Cornelia li Britannia (rogue_viceroy) wrote in marinasylum, @ 2010-01-11 22:37:00 |
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[Accidental Video | Please Come And Piss Her Off]
[ooc warning: Definite spoilers for R2. Also, so sorry for the tl;dr. I seriously fail at intros.]
[Have an accidental video of a face that I'm sure is QUITE recognizable for a lot of the inmates of Marina Asylum. Some of you have seen her before because she's from your world and others have seen a younger version of her, one with shorter hair and a translucently ruthless look in her eyes. Now, however, she looks slightly different. With long flowing hair and features that appear to be a bit older. It's not necessarily a physical change, but more so mental.
The furrow in her forehead creases, transforming her face into one etched with confusion and anger. Her eyes reread the accusations on the screen, mouth forming a thin white line as the color drains from her face.]
[At first, she thinks she's fallen victim to her younger half brother. By now, she's grown used to his deceitful methods for kidnapping his blood relatives. Or worse. Murdering them.
But the last thing she remembers before she fell unconscious was her older half brother... Schneizel. Swallowing, a painful, almost fearful look instantly replaces her ire. She looks downward, the bullet holes she remembers tearing through her clothes and skin now gone. As if they had never been there. As if she had dreamed the entire thing. The verbal dispute with Schneizel. Raising her weapon and pointing it at him furiously. The snap of his fingers, crisp and with a finality that made her blood run cold. The curl of that distinctly Britannia mouth while his dispassionate gaze watched her as she fell. And then the darkness, swallowing her hole, the vision of a girl with pink hair smiling at her before she lost consciousness.
Blinking back the emotion struggling to surface in her eyes, her nose flares, mouth opening to take in a much needed breath of air. Did he put her here?]
[Her chin lifts sharply before she stands up, instinctively reaching for the sword-gun that she keeps sheathed at her side. But her fingers graze her hip instead, and she releases a low groan as lavender eyes peer around the room incredulously. She isn't surprised that it has been confiscated.
The only thing she is sure of is that this is not a room at the palace or a room in the Damocles. Not knowing who to direct her animosity at, and failing to notice she is being recorded for the entire network to see, fists form at her sides, and she stands tensely there, directing her indignation above, as if she expects some sort of hidden intercom or camera to receive her insults.]
I DO NOT appreciate being dragged from my home in such a cowardly manner! I demand to know where I have been taken at once!