no more dreaming of the dead, as if death itself was undone

[commandsthewind]

Who: Elizabeth Tudor and whoever feels like straying in here.
What: Nightmare plot, which in this case is just how awful the 16th century is to hapless queens.
When: All through the plot.
Where: The back pages of her mind.
Rating: R, for blood, beheading, death, sex, death and beheading.

[Elizabeth herself has fallen at her table, reading a book. A nice enough book for that matter, something silly and senseless.

Nothing at all that reflects what her dreams are about. Welcome to court, ladies and gentleman. 'Tis a merry occasion it seems.

For those taken into this part of dream -- it's not so bad at all, or at least not to start with. In fact the whole of court appears to have come out to this event, the great hall of Hampton is teeming with people. The gold and silver tapestry glitter like fairies wings in the candle light, the clothing of the courtiers is bright with colour, and their extravagant jewels shine so brilliantly. Something not unlike the Masquerade Ball so recently. The ladies with their perfectly made up faces, the men with their elegant manners. There is music playing in the background, and for the most part, it seems to be such a happy and lively place. Banners hang with the emblem of the royal family, the double rose in red and white. It's sewn into the servants clothing, it hangs around the neck of some men and women, carved into the stone and wood in some places, a mark of the gracious hospitality of the host. But what stands out most is they all seem to adore you, bowing to you as you pass as you make your way to whatever is in the centre.

It seems beautiful -- too beautiful. For there is something off with almost off with all of it. Behind their pretty laughter of the women, it sounds so subtly like a snake's hiss. The men smile and their teeth look like the fangs of a wolf. The back of your neck seems to prickle as you make your way through your crowd.

But come, stay a little while? Surely it cannot be so bad? It's just so lovely.]

Comments

wander off;

[commandsthewind]

[Perhaps this is a little too much for you, perhaps gatherings of this nature aren't your interest. So you decide to turn away. Take another door out of the room, or perhaps someone comes up to you that seems to know you and asks you to join them somewhere else. Either way, time to wander off else where.]

[doublethefun]

[no, the pageantry isn't for her. So with little more than a glance, she heads away from the Great Hall.

She looks warily at all the humans. Dreams (and nightmares) are pretty much part of her domain, but how did she get here?]

[commandsthewind]

[As soon as Luna turns away, the whispering starts to get louder, and no matter how far you try to go, there just seems to be more courtiers.

Only glance again, what is that in their hands? A blade, or just a cup? It's hard to be sure, because as soon as you look, it's changed to something harmless again.]

[doublethefun]

[oh hello paranoia, old friend. She spends longer than necessary staring at the courtiers before picking up her pace. For there to be a dream, there must be a dreamer.]

[commandsthewind]

[She is in there, somewhere. But for now, it seems to get worse. Not in any obvious way, they begin to press in closer. There is no escape from them it seems. But they could hardly hurt could they? Their smiles do not falter.]

[doublethefun]

[she finally stops when the press of the bodies prevent her passage completely. She snorts, horn lowered and wings spread, hoof pawing at the ground. It's a clear enough warning.

She chances a look at the sky, hoping for a clear way out of this mass of smiling humans.]

[hedonic]

[ The imagery itself isn't unfamiliar or even disturbing to Echidna. The only thing she's unsure about is all this clothing she's wearing, but it doesn't seem as stifling as it normally would. In fact, this all almost feels normal, if...annoying.

She's not interesting in seeing a wedding, or what morbid effect it has on the family. Instead she'd rather explore, taking in the shadowy hisses and gleaming fangs as if they're nothing, instead admiring the architecture and seeing if there's some food somewhere else she can eat without having to wait for ceremony. ]

[commandsthewind]

[A gentleman approaches her when he sees her wondering away by herself. He's charming, but it's hard to focus on his face. It swims a little, but there is a overwhelming of how handsome and confident he is.

He's well mannered, and his voice is low as he leans in and asks her to dance. The warmth of him is almost enthralling.]

[hedonic]

[ She's compelled to go along with him, though somewhere in the back of her mind she recognizes the oddity of it. A dance, with a man of all things, and yet she's enjoying herself. Intoxicated despite being sober. ]

[commandsthewind]

[He sweeps her up immediately, and it's immediately intimate, an arm around her waist, pulling her close against him, and he turns to whisper in her ear.]

My queen.

[hedonic]

Your queen...

[ His? She wants to deny it. Almost does. But she says nothing else, an unease starting to settle in. It's hard to tell if it's hers or if it's somebody else's. What is her name again? ]

[workaphilic]

[It's against his nature, to linger in a room so full of people doing so very little. The blatant and excessive attention makes his skin crawl. (Never could appreciate his public spotlight.)

He can't remember his reason for coming, can't remember if he even had one, so he turns away to find a door, an exit, anything that might be even the slightest bit more engaging.]

[commandsthewind]

[The minute he walks through that door, it's a completely different room. In fact, it seems to have nothing in common with the room behind him.

This room is lined with men dressed in black. Everything about them is immovable, stone faced, with harsh eyes and harsh mouths that say nothing but cruelty. To the far end of the room, another set of men are sat at a long table, a rank above the rest, marked by the gold chains around their necks. In front of them however, a woman is knelt. The long red hair is a give away though she doesn't look a day over twenty when she turns back when she hears the door open, but she doesn't say anything.

The man to the right of the line bangs a long staff on the floor before he speaks. ]

The Prisoner has entered the chamber!

[workaphilic]

[Yes, this is better.

He hovers by the door, not allowing any shift in his expression. His eyes slide along the men at the table, lingering for a moment on the man with the staff before snapping to her and staying there.

He folds his hands behind his back and steps forward into the room, silently. (There's not anything to say.) He's apparently meant to be here, so he might as well fulfill his role.]

[commandsthewind]

[The eyes of the men follow him, whispering amongst themselves as the speak continues, reading out from a scroll.]

You are accused of conspiring with Sir Thomas Wyatt and others against their sovereign Majesties, Queen Mary and King Phillip to raise the Lady Elizabeth to the throne.

[Their eyes turn to Elizabeth again, and her hands are clasped tightly together, and she tries, oh she tries.]

For the last time, my lords, I did nothing. I am a faithful subject. I love my sist--

[One of the men rise, slamming his hands against the table, shouting so loudly it echoes off the walls.] Silence, woman! [Elizabeth recoiled, head dropping again. The room regards her silently before looking back up at Sherlock, waiting for his reply to the charges laid against him.]

[workaphilic]

[His gaze lingers on Elizabeth a few seconds longer, and then it rises to meet the speaker.

He sets his shoulders back and breathes in so he can project to the entire room.]

I have no idea what you're talking about.

[Calm and collected. It's the truth, after all.]

[squartatore]

[the charged atmosphere is increasingly stifling, and after a while, Sayaka gives up on her wallflower impression to find someplace less crowded. Whispers seem to follow her as she goes. That can't be, she tells herself, she doesn't even know any of these people, no one pays attention when she turns to find who the voices belong to]

[commandsthewind]

[They keep following, and the people seem to swim and shift around her, and their words become less background noise, and more harsh.]

Look at her -- who let her in here!

[squartatore]

[WOW RUDE. She doesn't bother to try facing them this time, just continues on her way]

I'll be gone once I find the exit! [dang, how big is the place anyway]

[commandsthewind]

[As it turns out, they don't care anything she has to see, and it becomes a little more violent. They reach to touch her, and when they do, it's like having fine needles scraped over skin.]

Vile child, witch's daughter.

[squartatore]

[recoiling, she clenches a fist, pulse beating in her ears]

Least you can do [her voice has turned rasped without her knowledge, still human if only because of the permanent loss] is get your facts right.

[ignorant, worthless humans...!]

Re: wander off;

[the_effect_she_has]

[... Katniss hates lovely. You can't trust lovely. Lovely is poison.]

[So she tries to back out of the hall, but it's hard in these damned skirts. Cinna didn't make these - they are stiff and tight and Katniss finds it hard to breath.]

[It's like the Capital, all over again, and Katniss starts looking around the tables for a knife herself ...]

[commandsthewind]

[Lovely hides only the worst sorts of cruelty.

But this bitter sweetness is Elizabeth's life, which as it turns out, when she comes to the table, Elizabeth is there. Cup in hand, and the other held by a rather important looking man who kissed the ring on that hand. A show of fealty, the grand lie of court.

But when she turns, she's completely shocked to see Katniss. Katniss dressed like one of her court no less.]

What are you doing here?

[the_effect_she_has]

[Oh. Ew. Why is he kissing her jewelry?

Katniss's lips pressed together as she moved to Elizabeth, looking around warily.]

I don't know, but your clothing leaves a lot to be desired. How do you breath?

[commandsthewind]

[Tch, Katniss, wait till the moment they fall to their knees and kiss the hem of her dress.

Elizabeth wasn't amused though, looking down at the younger woman with a frown on her face.]

In through your lungs, I've been wearing them since I was ten, so do all ladies where I come from.

[she looks away again, staring around the room at the men and women there, and she's clearly on edge, because she knows how this dream ends.] You need to leave. Now.