[She wakes up feeling a bit different. Floatier, and like the air around her is dense water, difficult to swim through with any strength.
After yesterday, it's just troubling enough to give her pause. So is the way her hair has become tendril-like and flexible, almost wanting to possess a playful mind of its own. She considers quarantine. Perhaps if she can find someone to fetch supplies.
In the end, she does leave, moving like a ghost, though she catches Nala fairly early. Briefly, she remembers that she didn't have the chance to check in on her in the chaos. Cantarella hesitates and keeps her hands visible, folded in front of her.]
So we face another morning. Do you feel all right, and ready to face it?
[ Nala hasn't had much change about her, aside from the ram horns and ears that now adorn her head. She stops swinging as Cantarella comes closer and smiles]
...as long as I seek happiness and freedom, I am ready to face anything. [ thanks Lobelia] And you?
I do feel a little out of sorts. I thought I'd take some herbs from the field and see if it's just temporary discomfort.
[She'd certainly remember those horns after spending Thursday night in such close proximity, especially with how prominent they are. Even at a little distance, she can spot them. Cantarella tilts her head, likely shimmering a little in the light.]
Freedom, is it? I believe it should be everyone's natural right.
[ She is a little distracted by Cantarella's hair. She had always acknowledged Cantarella's beauty, even in the hotdog costume, but there is an even greater ephemeral nature to her appearance now; delicate and transient, something that would fade away if grasped too strongly]
Is that so? Then why is it so many of us have it denied to us over and over again?
[ She lets her thoughts on beauty distract her from the heaviness of her own words, a light distraction that her from sinking too far into a dark place she did not want to peer into]
Why would you clip a bird's wings? [she asks rhetorically. Cantarella doesn't dream of flying away like a bird any longer, but she's always associated the fluttering of wings in the air with freedom.]
[Nala huffs, a bitter sound as she kicks off on her swing again, letting the breeze catch her]
Typical. It is all about control isn't it? Here, back home...wanting to control people is admitting they're too dangerous and powerful to be left on their own, is it not?
[She can't help but think of the Order sending dissenters on "pilgrimages" to their certain death to silence questioners. But the Order, itself, is also being controlled, so—]
...yes. [Perhaps it's the ram-state of mind taking over, that loosens her tongue. Or perhaps it is Cantarella whose demeanour and way of speaking makes her lower her guard or the countless of people here who have dedicated themselves to her freedom and safety]
A place where everyone can live happily, safe, without worrying about soldiers and mercenaries.
[She had it once, and the warm faces that once brightened up her world are slowly becoming indistinct, fuzzy around the edges, like sepia photographs.]
In other words, the thing that will bring you the most freedom is peace.
[Nala has already mentioned wanting to be happy as one of the things that drives her, but there's a difference, however faint, between happiness and peace.]
Is that what you remember wanting right before the fog? [If there was something using wishes to trap them here... Cantarella thinks it was rather cruel.]
No. I never believed it was possible. I wanted...I wanted to be able to choose. [She had avoided this conversation before. But maybe Cantarella would understand] To stop my body from moving against my will, so I wouldn't hurt her anymore.
[ She swallows around the lump that suddenly rises in ber throat] I hadn't been able to choose for myself for so long.
[It's far too familiar to Cantarella, and, for a second, it's like the drowning sensation in her lungs is not simply a lack of air, but the Dark Tide itself crashing in, the tail of a sea creature around her chest.
Though she does her best to mask the physical reaction of being almost completely able to breathe, it stalls her from speaking for a moment.]
Your body and mind were no longer under your control?
... my mind is my own wherever I am. Here, so is my body.
[ a pause, as she tries to find the right words to explain it. Fear beckons that feeling of being trapped, of eyes staring at her, her limbs moving against her will. She hugs herself]
But back home, I am something people would like to control very much.
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timeasmymeasure
love how we now have to pay with animal crimes
Date: 2025-11-10 08:27 pm (UTC)After yesterday, it's just troubling enough to give her pause. So is the way her hair has become tendril-like and flexible, almost wanting to possess a playful mind of its own. She considers quarantine. Perhaps if she can find someone to fetch supplies.
In the end, she does leave, moving like a ghost, though she catches Nala fairly early. Briefly, she remembers that she didn't have the chance to check in on her in the chaos. Cantarella hesitates and keeps her hands visible, folded in front of her.]
So we face another morning. Do you feel all right, and ready to face it?
we suffer from hubris once again
Date: 2025-11-10 09:21 pm (UTC)...as long as I seek happiness and freedom, I am ready to face anything. [ thanks Lobelia] And you?
no subject
Date: 2025-11-11 02:09 am (UTC)[She'd certainly remember those horns after spending Thursday night in such close proximity, especially with how prominent they are. Even at a little distance, she can spot them. Cantarella tilts her head, likely shimmering a little in the light.]
Freedom, is it? I believe it should be everyone's natural right.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-11 11:48 am (UTC)Is that so? Then why is it so many of us have it denied to us over and over again?
[ She lets her thoughts on beauty distract her from the heaviness of her own words, a light distraction that her from sinking too far into a dark place she did not want to peer into]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-12 02:54 am (UTC)If something is free, it cannot be controlled.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-12 08:42 am (UTC)Typical. It is all about control isn't it? Here, back home...wanting to control people is admitting they're too dangerous and powerful to be left on their own, is it not?
no subject
Date: 2025-11-13 04:18 am (UTC)[She can't help but think of the Order sending dissenters on "pilgrimages" to their certain death to silence questioners. But the Order, itself, is also being controlled, so—]
Does freedom look like a peaceful life to you?
no subject
Date: 2025-11-13 04:23 am (UTC)A place where everyone can live happily, safe, without worrying about soldiers and mercenaries.
[She had it once, and the warm faces that once brightened up her world are slowly becoming indistinct, fuzzy around the edges, like sepia photographs.]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-14 04:39 am (UTC)[Nala has already mentioned wanting to be happy as one of the things that drives her, but there's a difference, however faint, between happiness and peace.]
Is that what you remember wanting right before the fog? [If there was something using wishes to trap them here... Cantarella thinks it was rather cruel.]
no subject
Date: 2025-11-14 05:36 am (UTC)[ She swallows around the lump that suddenly rises in ber throat] I hadn't been able to choose for myself for so long.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-14 06:28 am (UTC)Though she does her best to mask the physical reaction of being almost completely able to breathe, it stalls her from speaking for a moment.]
Your body and mind were no longer under your control?
no subject
Date: 2025-11-14 06:43 am (UTC)[ a pause, as she tries to find the right words to explain it. Fear beckons that feeling of being trapped, of eyes staring at her, her limbs moving against her will. She hugs herself]
But back home, I am something people would like to control very much.