[ It lends credence to the possibility that they are somewhere beyond, but she'd walked here largely in a daze before, taking note of few details along her route. Wherever they are, whoever is responsible for their being here, has drawn in people from different times, places if what Dorian's telling her is to be believed — and what reason does she have for not believing him? For all his unique mysteries, those secrets she has not ventured towards unlocking for herself, he has withheld few answers to questions she has posed.
She's lost, momentarily, in a reverie of her own making, expression distant for a few measures before she lifts her eyes to his face. For all her earlier attempts at composure, it's likely that he can see the distress playing itself out in her gaze, feelings she struggles to mask. ]
January. [ A month that would signal new beginnings, new possibilities, were there the chance of any to be found; she feels adrift, uneasy even as much as her present company offers a comfort all its own. ] Tell me, what is the last thing you remember before finding yourself here?
no subject
She's lost, momentarily, in a reverie of her own making, expression distant for a few measures before she lifts her eyes to his face. For all her earlier attempts at composure, it's likely that he can see the distress playing itself out in her gaze, feelings she struggles to mask. ]
January. [ A month that would signal new beginnings, new possibilities, were there the chance of any to be found; she feels adrift, uneasy even as much as her present company offers a comfort all its own. ] Tell me, what is the last thing you remember before finding yourself here?