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baconstrip2012-06-24 03:46 am
11ady) wrote in baconstrip2012-06-24 03:46 am
Entry tags:
★ it makes you burn to learn i'm with another man | sobbing on emily ;;
[In the months following the fallout from the holodeck fiasco, Une's been a bit of recluse. She's hardly ever seen outside HQ and her contact with the network is always kept to text. Faceless. It's easier to hide from the world in the midst of all that's happened. She's been betrayed by those she considered allies, thrown into simulated realities and toyed with. To enslave her mind like that was beyond criminal.
But she doesn't have the luxury of prolonged sabbatical. It's October. The holiday gala will be soon. A fire and ice ball to improve PR. Her engagement party...
For the first time in a long time, she slips into a dress.
Not blue; it reminds her too much of His Excellency's stare.
Not purple; it reminds her too much of her lost one-eyed king.
Not green; it reminds her too much of the uniform she wears while facing the challenge of duty.
No, she wears black. The color of mourning. It's a tight fit, hugging her curves in all the right places, cutting far enough above the knee to bare some thigh. The straps are thin and the neckline dips to show off some cleavage.
For the first time in a long time, she wants to be seen.
Clutching her purse, she walks down the street of the commercial district with no particular destination in mind.]
But she doesn't have the luxury of prolonged sabbatical. It's October. The holiday gala will be soon. A fire and ice ball to improve PR. Her engagement party...
For the first time in a long time, she slips into a dress.
Not blue; it reminds her too much of His Excellency's stare.
Not purple; it reminds her too much of her lost one-eyed king.
Not green; it reminds her too much of the uniform she wears while facing the challenge of duty.
No, she wears black. The color of mourning. It's a tight fit, hugging her curves in all the right places, cutting far enough above the knee to bare some thigh. The straps are thin and the neckline dips to show off some cleavage.
For the first time in a long time, she wants to be seen.
Clutching her purse, she walks down the street of the commercial district with no particular destination in mind.]
no subject
She does none of these things.
These are the desires of a woman long dead, someone she'd taken from a history book and asked a programmer to flesh out for the simulation. Little did she know that she would be stepping into Elle Hall's shoes. The poor girl supposedly had a lover after John but never married again. She died alone and destitute. The nurse at her bedside said Elle passed on to the next world with a smile on her face.
I'm going to see John again.
Une had nothing but pity for the other woman when she had read it. After all, she didn't understand. But now...
Standing before Jim Moriarty, she takes a deep breath and extends her hand to shake, doing her best to push the residual memories of Elle to the back of her mind.]
It's been a while, Mr. Moriarty. I almost feel like a second introduction is in order.
[She even manages to crack a smile, a small quirk of her crimson lips for his benefit, something to set him at ease.]