The dream always starts the same way. Trilla's at home -- one of her homes, anyway, the house she and her mother had stayed in the Red Court lands. She'd been young then. The memory is hazy but for the sense that she's waiting. Waiting and waiting until she begins to truly worry, for her mother has never left for so long before, even having told Trilla to lock the doors and draw the curtains and not make a single peep until she returns. If he finds them he'll take her away and she won't be able to come back, not ever.
Trilla's still young enough that the desire to see her father again isn't strong enough to overcome the fear that her mother has instilled into her. So she waits. There's someone with her; someone she's forgotten until just now, in the strange way that dreams can change. She glances over to the other person with a frown, tries to work out how they've come to be here, and if they are friend or foe.
"Did she send you? I don't need protection, if that's why you're here."
A Nightmarish Curse [ cw: kidnapping, torture ]
One moment she's waiting, and the next rough hands are grabbing her, tearing her away from her hiding place and the person she'd been quietly whispering to in the dark. She tries to fight but her hands are bound and they've done something to her, something that makes her feel weak and dizzy. She struggles blindly, kicks and screams until everything goes dark.
When she wakes she's in a place she doesn't understand; figures in black, all with helmets, flank her on the left and right of the contraption she's strapped into. She can't make out what they're saying. They're asking her questions. They're saying a name she doesn't recognize but she understands in the way of dreams that this is who she was waiting for back in her other home. Not mother. Mother hadn't left her alone. She hadn't been the one to betray Trilla and leave her to this pain. This is what she'd warned her about, isn't it? That it would hurt, and that she would never come home?
A part of the machine she's strapped to descends upon her face and the pain begins. Trilla screams until her voice is gone and just keeps screaming; if she has no voice she cannot tell them what they want to hear. She cannot truly break. If she breaks she can never go home.
Winter Games
The curse may have been broken leaving her physically not that much worse for wear, but Trilla was particularly snappish and sullen in the weeks that followed, and kept to herself more often than not outside of required classwork. So it's a rare thing to see her watching the figure skating competition with a look of rapt enjoyment that looks a little like longing.
She has a cup of something warm, and for the first time in weeks she seems like she might be making her way back down to something like calm. Feel free to ruin it by approaching her and pointing it out, however.
Trilla Suduri | Black | Novice
The dream always starts the same way. Trilla's at home -- one of her homes, anyway, the house she and her mother had stayed in the Red Court lands. She'd been young then. The memory is hazy but for the sense that she's waiting. Waiting and waiting until she begins to truly worry, for her mother has never left for so long before, even having told Trilla to lock the doors and draw the curtains and not make a single peep until she returns. If he finds them he'll take her away and she won't be able to come back, not ever.
Trilla's still young enough that the desire to see her father again isn't strong enough to overcome the fear that her mother has instilled into her. So she waits. There's someone with her; someone she's forgotten until just now, in the strange way that dreams can change. She glances over to the other person with a frown, tries to work out how they've come to be here, and if they are friend or foe.
"Did she send you? I don't need protection, if that's why you're here."
A Nightmarish Curse [ cw: kidnapping, torture ]
One moment she's waiting, and the next rough hands are grabbing her, tearing her away from her hiding place and the person she'd been quietly whispering to in the dark. She tries to fight but her hands are bound and they've done something to her, something that makes her feel weak and dizzy. She struggles blindly, kicks and screams until everything goes dark.
When she wakes she's in a place she doesn't understand; figures in black, all with helmets, flank her on the left and right of the contraption she's strapped into. She can't make out what they're saying. They're asking her questions. They're saying a name she doesn't recognize but she understands in the way of dreams that this is who she was waiting for back in her other home. Not mother. Mother hadn't left her alone. She hadn't been the one to betray Trilla and leave her to this pain. This is what she'd warned her about, isn't it? That it would hurt, and that she would never come home?
A part of the machine she's strapped to descends upon her face and the pain begins. Trilla screams until her voice is gone and just keeps screaming; if she has no voice she cannot tell them what they want to hear. She cannot truly break. If she breaks she can never go home.
Winter Games
The curse may have been broken leaving her physically not that much worse for wear, but Trilla was particularly snappish and sullen in the weeks that followed, and kept to herself more often than not outside of required classwork. So it's a rare thing to see her watching the figure skating competition with a look of rapt enjoyment that looks a little like longing.
She has a cup of something warm, and for the first time in weeks she seems like she might be making her way back down to something like calm. Feel free to ruin it by approaching her and pointing it out, however.