Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Daphina Taraias (inmyelements) wrote in watchers_rp,

Daphina had quite forgotten how much being at court taught you to appreciate the quiet. At Deleik unwanted noise, usually in the form of speech, could be dismissed with an eyeroll before she removed herself from earshot. That, however, was less about seeking peace and rather more about avoiding the disturbance. She had spent a few days ghosting about the near-silent halls of the castle, both impatient to join the crowd of people in the main hall, and not all that eager to be noticed by them just yet. Watchers, I left court and became a shying violet. How depressing. There had been young Thyme to consider, at least. She’d promised her niece she would show her the most radiant parts of the gardens, and while the others were off busying themselves with father’s plan to take over the world, she had done just that. If the child had a true Taraias mind as opposed to her father’s then she would likely remember for when she went to court. Was there any harm in beginning preparation for that now? No, Daphina thought not. On reflection, she thought her own education on the matter was begun too late.

Idly swishing crimson skirts, the dress chosen almost entirely to set her apart from her family, she let slippered feet take her along the familiar route to the library. There was a specific book -- she wondered if it was still in the same place, for she certainly hadn’t shelved it correctly -- that had been her faithful prop for the best part of her four year stay. Perhaps it is still there… Realising the library was not as empty as she thought it had been, Daphina cursed at herself internally for crushing a handful of her skirts childishly, and quickly smoothed them out. Only once she had seen the other person present was she secretly pleased she had given into a fool’s vanity and fixed her appearance for the library, of all places. Before she gave herself the chance to stare shamelessly, she turned her eyes to the bookcases. She thought it might have been the third shelf from the top, but now she was distracted.

At the first statement, Daphina gave a curious glance, if only because most people did not speak in a library if they did not wish to be heard. Had it been this difficult to refrain from gawking when she was younger, or was it an art perfected in adulthood? The latter would certainly explain Daemyn. She gave a slight smile as she considered the rest of the lady’s predicament, very nearly amused by the conclusion she found she had reached: “I think perhaps they do. It would certainly explain why small ideas spin wildly out of hand. And,” she began, turning away from the bookcases and toward the reason she could no longer recall where she left the book. Watchers, those eyes. “I believe they continue while we sleep.” Truly, she did. “I think I’ve had some of my best ideas while dreaming.” She gave a smile that was far from self-conscious, but acknowledged that some might dismiss what she had just said as silly. “Though if that is not what you intended to create, I would be interested to know what your mind envisages. For my part, I see not a thing wrong with it.” Quite the opposite, in fact. And before she forgot and made herself seem rude: “I’m Daphina.”