She had come, due to her aunt, though arrived disappointed that her only family in Orlais had conveniently skipped town just as Adaria entered. The Beauvais were friends of Mica’s and while Adaria wasn’t personally acquainted with them; she offered them congratulations on behalf of her, despite her aunt's message of apology. [color=#9a00b2]I had hoped to see her, but alas, my timing was off.[/color]
It was a pleasant change for her though, exchanging dirty, travel-worn garments for silk and finery. Sneaking into her aunt's estate in the city, it was easy to render the staff compliant, a simple modification of their memories that Mica had been expecting her easily planted. Even if Mica found out, there would be no scolding, only relief that she was safe and maintaining a degree of vigilance.
Still, she couldn’t hide her status completely, merely maintain the few steps lead she had against her family’s desire to rein her in. Adaria wished to usurp the notion she was some wild child of the Royal House, brash and impulsive. Spoiled. Her dress, while elegant and simple, shone brightly, yet didn’t cause a glare to the eye. It shaped her figure, and she glided easily across the floor of the reception until quickly discovering the lack of stimulating company.
Adaria retreated, carefully nudging any seeking her attention elsewhere by planting a need to relieve themselves. It was all rather childsplay, and she chuckled quietly as she pushed into the servant's passage. This rabbit warren of passages, rooms and corridors brought back memories of the Palace, how they offered moments of escape and solitude during these busy events.
She was distracted by her own thoughts when rounding the corner, gaze missing the crouched over figure entirely until the collision. She stumbled over him, dress growing taut as her shoes stepped on part of the hem, which caused her balance to tip dangerously one way. Instinctively, Adaria’s hands splayed out in reflex, magic coming to her will easily. The air grew momentarily thick, almost humid as her body froze, mid-air in mid-fall.
[color=#9a00b2]“What a foolish place to bend over!”[/color]
OOC: Dress
It was a pleasant change for her though, exchanging dirty, travel-worn garments for silk and finery. Sneaking into her aunt's estate in the city, it was easy to render the staff compliant, a simple modification of their memories that Mica had been expecting her easily planted. Even if Mica found out, there would be no scolding, only relief that she was safe and maintaining a degree of vigilance.
Still, she couldn’t hide her status completely, merely maintain the few steps lead she had against her family’s desire to rein her in. Adaria wished to usurp the notion she was some wild child of the Royal House, brash and impulsive. Spoiled. Her dress, while elegant and simple, shone brightly, yet didn’t cause a glare to the eye. It shaped her figure, and she glided easily across the floor of the reception until quickly discovering the lack of stimulating company.
Adaria retreated, carefully nudging any seeking her attention elsewhere by planting a need to relieve themselves. It was all rather childsplay, and she chuckled quietly as she pushed into the servant's passage. This rabbit warren of passages, rooms and corridors brought back memories of the Palace, how they offered moments of escape and solitude during these busy events.
She was distracted by her own thoughts when rounding the corner, gaze missing the crouched over figure entirely until the collision. She stumbled over him, dress growing taut as her shoes stepped on part of the hem, which caused her balance to tip dangerously one way. Instinctively, Adaria’s hands splayed out in reflex, magic coming to her will easily. The air grew momentarily thick, almost humid as her body froze, mid-air in mid-fall.
[color=#9a00b2]“What a foolish place to bend over!”[/color]
OOC: Dress
11-14-2023, 12:23 PM
