The Duchess Elstwhere, Posting (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pervy_elf_fancier) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
testrun_box2012-07-21 11:58 am
pervy_elf_fancier) wrote in testrun_box2012-07-21 11:58 am
Entry tags:
Possibly for queenofheartsrp
1 - Action
The newest woman in the Gardens isn't outraged or panicking; she's seething as she physically hoists a rabbit away from her corset, her pink gown, and her crown. She flips her white shift over her head without any hesitation and begins dressing herself.
"If my latest kidnapper addresses me as 'the Princess of Aerisland,' then I swear by Hurane and the god of exhausted patience as my witnesses that I shall simply strike him and affect my own rescue," she says as she attempts to tighten her own corset. "At least that way I shall gain some welcome respect from the Fellowship."
2 - Action
The Mother of Monsters latest foray into the Gardens proper has been repulsed, at great cost to the inhabitants of the Garden - yourself included. The vicious claws of the harpies of Arimoi are not diseased or envenomed, thank whatever Gods you favor, but they still cut deep.
The Duchess Elstwhere winces at the results of her cursory examination, then sighs and begins to flex her hands and whisper some appeal to Huraine. Her hands begin to glow with warmth and light and life. "If you will let me tend to your injuries with this Cure Serious Wounds? I will have to touch the wound. It may sting."
3 - one could call her a woman of Action
At some part of the Gardens, there is a bath and there is wine, and her Grace is indulging in both along with you. She drains her cup, and laughs, and rolls her shoulders, simply allowing herself to soak and relieve tension.
"Milady, if you would indulge me, I would like to hear something of your home and your deeds," she says, leaning forward with a subtle kind of smile. "I confess myself curious about you."
Perhaps she is flirting. Perhaps she is not.
The newest woman in the Gardens isn't outraged or panicking; she's seething as she physically hoists a rabbit away from her corset, her pink gown, and her crown. She flips her white shift over her head without any hesitation and begins dressing herself.
"If my latest kidnapper addresses me as 'the Princess of Aerisland,' then I swear by Hurane and the god of exhausted patience as my witnesses that I shall simply strike him and affect my own rescue," she says as she attempts to tighten her own corset. "At least that way I shall gain some welcome respect from the Fellowship."
2 - Action
The Mother of Monsters latest foray into the Gardens proper has been repulsed, at great cost to the inhabitants of the Garden - yourself included. The vicious claws of the harpies of Arimoi are not diseased or envenomed, thank whatever Gods you favor, but they still cut deep.
The Duchess Elstwhere winces at the results of her cursory examination, then sighs and begins to flex her hands and whisper some appeal to Huraine. Her hands begin to glow with warmth and light and life. "If you will let me tend to your injuries with this Cure Serious Wounds? I will have to touch the wound. It may sting."
3 - one could call her a woman of Action
At some part of the Gardens, there is a bath and there is wine, and her Grace is indulging in both along with you. She drains her cup, and laughs, and rolls her shoulders, simply allowing herself to soak and relieve tension.
"Milady, if you would indulge me, I would like to hear something of your home and your deeds," she says, leaning forward with a subtle kind of smile. "I confess myself curious about you."
Perhaps she is flirting. Perhaps she is not.
no subject
"So there is a smallest thing that can said to live... I wonder what healing magic does to close wounds. If we're speaking of a monk's cell, would it patch the holes in the walls, I wonder? Build more rooms where they were torn away?"
She opens her eyes and looks at you. "And what is a monk's cell without a prayer book. This is where the 'book of life' you speak of is kept? You will forgive me if I stretch these analogies."
no subject
In response to the question, Mir reached down with her fingers and drew short lines inside the inner circle. "That's it. It's sealed away within it's own little cell within the cell. That keeps it safe from anything that might damage it, and if the rest of the cell needs instructions they can be copied out." A few dots were poked on the surface of the squiggly thing that took up most of the space inside the dirt drawing. "Truth be told, it can be more like a city than a monk's personal quarters. There are workshops and engines, warehouses and ports. We live in the middle-sized world, unaware of the world of the tiny things within us, and the vastness between the stars." Mir felt almost poetic, considering the connection between stars and cells.
no subject
"So, within that vast small world, cells contain that writing, those instructions. Is that how they know to be hair or nails or skin?"
no subject
"Ahh." Mir sat back and looked up, drumming fingers on her thigh. "That would be the case, would you not expect it to be? Shockingly enough, all the instructions are the same from hair to womb to bone. It is only which ones that are carried out which vary. There is, if I recall my lessons correctly, a sort of cascade of effects, starting when one is little more than the size of the head of a pin. Top and bottom, left and right, these things are decided very early on. And on the left and right, there must be arms and legs, so there are instructions made for such things. Each limb must have it's digits, each digit requires a nail, and so on."
Mir lowered her gaze and gave a cheeky grin. "A careful charting of the growth of the fetus will reveal that masculinity is the derived condition. Of course, here in the gardens, it would seem to be a condition that has been excised completely from the population."