MarinaNova Asylum

[ a strangely passive face appears on the communicator; controlled, almost eerily so, as observant eyes flick to and fro as if she were recording each inch of the area around her. grass, stone. a building in the distance.

this was nothing like the desert, nothing like arrakis; too cold, too moist. she could feel the water in the air-- how curious it was, how foreign that feeling had become in such a short time. she was to be in arrakeen, preparing and arranging for the small social party, but now-- ah, she didn't know where she was, but her robes were replaced with a suit of orange... her jewelery replaced by a headset. naturally, so naturally, she is unsettled-- a deep foreboding filling her. i will not be able to save leto here, she thinks, ah, but he was doomed, no matter what i could have done. mohaim, she made sure to make that clear-- ]

It would be pertinent, I suppose, to find more suitable clothing than this. [ she takes a small, thoughtful pause; the barest of emotion twisting the corners of her lips into a momentary frown before she snaps it back. allows the mask of the bene gesserit to resettle in it's rightful place. her voice, although, shows a small tinge of bitterness, of sadness, of self-admonishment-- much to her chagrin, upon noticing it. ]

The colour, after all, is not appropriate for one in mourning.

[ she will be wandering around quatro park for a while before moving into sector four proper! feel free to respond how ever you'd like-- video, action, or audio! ]