queenofheartsrp | 001; action/video

001; action/video

[With Veigue being too preoccupied to have done much of anything but changed into her regular attire and read up on the bare basics, the Vine has taken it upon itself to showcase the newcomer. Alas, its timing leaves a bit to be desired.

The Vine zones in from behind, catching the woman's back and a frontal view of an approaching (and clearly hostile) harpy. Sword drawn, Veigue charges and raises her weapon in time to block the harpy's talons from clawing at her face. She wrestles with the creature, dead set on overpowering her foe.

She mutters a few words, gradually rising in volume until she's loud enough for the Vine to pick up her voice. There's a coldness to her tone that indicates she's in no mood to be dilly dallying with her opponent.]

. . . where is she? [Veigue knocks the harpy aside with a heave of her broadsword.] Where's Claire!?

[As though sensing the woman's temper, the Vine furls and sneaks away with the mirror. The recording ends with an abrupt screech from the harpy.]

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[despite being braced for them, those words sting.]

No...I'm not Her Majesty. I don't know where she is. I know it's hard to believe, but it's me. Claire.

[she grips the side of the mirror with a free hand, as though she's trying to get a hold of reality. The words sound sincere -- so, so sincere, but Veigue can't really understand how this'd be even possible.]

What are you talking about . . . Claire doesn't look like that. She doesn't look like you; she's completely different!

[she can't do this through a mirror. She has to be there, see Veigue with her own eyes.]

I know, it's--I don't expect you to believe me right away. It was that ceremony, it must have been... But please, wait for me, I'll find you. I'll explain.

[the ceremony . . .

she steps back from the mirror, her gaze averted to the ground. The Vine takes that as a cue to depart once more. She'll wait if it means getting answers.]

[she turns and runs, all thoughts of tonight's dinner forgotten for a moment, and a small calico cat stops to hear her request and leads her in the right direction. She's a little out of breath once she arrives, skirts held up out of her way. She drops them, stopping, her heart in her throat. This time it can't be an illusion. That would be too cruel.]

It's really you...Veigue. [male or female, her childhood friend is unmistakable. She can't help smiling a little in relief. She'd never gotten confirmation if Veigue and his friends had made it out of that ritual unscathed. Here it was.]

I'm so glad you're all right. [she takes a step forward, then stops again.] I don't know what Queen Agarte was trying to accomplish, but when I came to, I was...like this. [she gestures to herself.] I know it must be hard to believe. But it's true.

[on the other hand, Veigue tries to keep a straight face through all of this. When "Agarte" comes into view, she straightens and listens. Just listens.]

[despite her appearance, "Agarte" is too good with her words. Veigue remembers her first encounter with the queen; Agarte had essentially stuttered up a storm, and had stumbled over her own words in an effort to explain herself.]

[but it's too early to tell. After a brief moment of silence, Veigue replies quietly, neither a trace of certainty nor doubt in her tone -- it's just a question.]

Are you really Claire?

[she needs to hear it even though she already has. She needs the confirmation, the assurance.]

Yes.

[she doesn't hesitate. It's the one thing she can be sure of.]

It's me. [she holds out both hands, palm up.] Even if I look like this, it's me. We used to enjoy Aunt Popura's peach pie together.

[Agarte wouldn't know about that. Unless Claire told her, but what would possess her to tell her kidnapper something like that? Why? And why would Agarte even try to pose as Claire?]

[the days they had Aunt Popura's peach pie were simple but intimate. They mean more than they appear.]

[it has to be her. It has to be. It can't be. It has to be.]

Claire . . .

[attaching her name to that body feels wrong, but it slips out as she takes a few steps forward.]

What happened?

[she lets out a breath, not realizing how tense she was until that moment.]

The Queen, she said all these strange things when I met her...but the reason she took all those girls from their homes was that she was searching for a specific one. She said...she said that Huma must think all Gajuma are ugly. There was something she wanted, something she thought she couldn't do as a Gajuma...so she wanted the body of a Huma.

[she's thought about it many times, but while she can work through the logic of it, she's never been able to understand completely. Her body has never stopped her from doing anything. It's a matter of will, not what other people think. But if Agarte felt bound and restricted by the wills of others, than maybe...]

I can't explain more than that. I don't remember much from the ceremony, just that I heard you calling for me, and--then I woke up, like this.

Searching?

[and that all Gajuma must be regarded ugly? Whatever Agarte meant by that and aimed to achieve with a Huma's body, if what this body is telling her is true . . . the queen must have gotten what she wanted. Because Claire wouldn't lie.]

[this is Claire, right? Veigue had called out to her during the climax of the ceremony. Not Agarte.]

Does that mean Agarte is in your body?

[but the one Veigue had reached for was . . . ]

Those men who came to the village, they asked for the most beautiful girl, right? And only Huma girls. So it fits...it's still hard to understand, though.

I--

[uneasiness makes her waver, but only slightly. What she had seen that time wasn't real. It wasn't the Queen.]

She must be, but I don't know for certain. I haven't had any word from home until you came here.

Are you all right, though? You weren't hurt, or...

Edited 2011-10-23 18:29 (UTC)

[if that's the case, then no one else from Callegea is present. It's reassuring, but also rather concerning. With her nowhere in sight, how would they react?]

[wait, then when did Claire get here? She sounds far more adjusted to this than she should be. Is she overthinking this?]

[but that thought is pushed aside when the mention of "hurt" reminds Veigue of the wound on her arm. Nothing severe, but a cut nonetheless, and there's a slight stickiness where a small amount of blood has oozed from it. She rests a gloved hand over the torn material of her shirt.]

. . . no. It doesn't hurt.

[it honestly doesn't. She's too preoccupied with the matter right in front of her to pay it much heed.]

We should go somewhere safer. But--

[she clasps her hands together, letting out a breath.]

Veigue, thank you--for believing me. I missed you.

[her smile is a little sad, a little relieved. The situation still doesn't feel quite real, just like when she'd first arrived in the Gardens. She keeps expecting to wake up.]

[she glances at the unconscious harpy nearby, and decides that they should go somewhere safer immediately. But she stops short at the words she'd been hoping to hear from Claire.]

[and they are coming from Claire.]

. . . Claire . . .

[she really can't say anything more than that. As though saying more would shatter this delicate image and tear Claire from her again.]

[she holds out a hand, both intending to lead her and wanting to feel her, make sure she's real.]

Let's go together, Veigue.

[she stares at the hand -- the hand that most certainly does not belong to the average Huma, though that's no surprise (and yet, it is). Slowly, Veigue takes it with her clean hand, the gloved one that hasn't touched the cut.]

All right . . . Claire. But to where?

The place I've been living. It's high up, it should be safe. There are some people who need protecting there, too.

[she just hopes Reno won't cause trouble.]

[living?]

How long have you been here?

[it couldn't have been for longer than a few hours at the most, unless Veigue was out for over a day.]

[she pauses, her face clouding a little, though it clears after a moment.]

It must be...almost five months now. A long time. Time is strange here. I've been told that when we go back home, everything is the same as when we left, no matter what happens here.

That can't be . . .

[five months and absolutely no sign of this back in Callegea? Veigue doesn't know what to believe.]

What's the last thing you remember from Callegea? After that battle . . . ?

I don't...I remember the ceremony, and this...light, and you calling my name, and then I woke up here. In the Queen's body. [she brushes her hands over her skirts a little self-consciously.]

For a long time, I thought it was a dream.

[in the Queen's body. She knows that. She can see that all too well, and it's . . . tiring.]

But this isn't a dream . . .

[is it? It's too cruel to be a dream.]

I know. I've come to realize that. This is just a place where the strangest things you can think of happen. [she smiles a little, despite the heavy conversation topic. Veigue's hand is warm, real.]

I'm just glad you're here. We'll go home someday, I know we will.

[Claire's words are soothing. As long as she's here where Veigue can be with her and take care of her, then this place will be tolerable. The strangest things can happen, but they won't matter.]

Yeah. We will.

[the only problem is the body . . . and it's that one heavy thought that prevents Veigue from feeling that much better, with her lips still pressed weakly.]

[the silence she's used to, even after months of living with Reno's chatter. Veigue's usual taciturn self is nostalgic and familiar. But Claire knows that silence isn't a normal one, so she can't be completely at ease. She points to the apartment building rising from between the trees.]

There it is. Come on, we'll be safe inside.

[she leads Veigue through the front doors into the lobby, breathing out a sigh of relief.]

A woman named Gabrielle Monsigny is the caretaker here. I'm sure you'll meet her soon enough. She's kind enough to let people stay for nothing at all. Then again, there's no gald here.

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