Interlude – Fracture
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
Isha stared into the looking glass.
In the flat green eyes of the woman who stared back at her she saw defeat and confusion; it was there in the bow of the bony shoulders that seemed sharp enough to poke through her chemise, and the dull cast of her translucent skin seeming dry and paperlike in the artificial light.
Everyone had been so kind to that woman, and Isha could not understand why. She viewed the woman with contempt; contempt for her arrogance, contempt for her weakness and contempt for having allowed Getal to humiliate her so utterly.
But Isha was an ambassador, she had a job to do and she did not have another day to waste sitting here staring and wondering how to deal with that woman, the one that wanted to stay here and hide.
A fanned comb already pinned up Isha’s set hair, someone from one of the many salons on the promenade had been brought in earlier to arrange that and had long ago departed, Her outfit had been chosen with great care, she reflected as she pulled on the stiff collared silvery blue jacket. Its long sleeves clung to her arms and as she fastened the column of tiny iridescent buttons from her waist to throat each one clinched the fitted jacket in a little more the constriction giving her body support that immediately showed in the angle at which she held her head; this was not merely clothing, it was armour to disguise what was going on behind her serene mask.
And that mask was the last thing that Isha had to attend to before she returned to public life and left that other woman here. Reaching out with a perfectly manicured hand she selected a jar and flipped the lid off. It landed with a clatter and rolled on its edge to a standstill as she dipped her fingers in the jar. Lifting her fingers to her face Isha began the final stage of her transformation as she smoothed, blended, smudged, brushed and painted the other woman away.
As she laid the final brush aside Isha was satisfied with what she saw. The perfect visage, remote and beautiful. A benign front concealing divisions and struggles, pains and passions beneath the deceptive unified front; the living embodiment of the Stelam Shiar.
I have not worn so much make up since my wedding, Isha thought as she examined at her reflection in the looking glass.
That pathetic creature was gone, almost.
There was nothing even Isha could do to force the fire back into her eyes.
OFF
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
| Title | Fracture | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | Commander Isha t'Vaurek | |
| Posted | Sun Jun 06, 2010 @ 2:24pm | |
| Location | Isha's Dressing Room | |
| Timeline | ~ D22 |
In the flat green eyes of the woman who stared back at her she saw defeat and confusion; it was there in the bow of the bony shoulders that seemed sharp enough to poke through her chemise, and the dull cast of her translucent skin seeming dry and paperlike in the artificial light.
Everyone had been so kind to that woman, and Isha could not understand why. She viewed the woman with contempt; contempt for her arrogance, contempt for her weakness and contempt for having allowed Getal to humiliate her so utterly.
But Isha was an ambassador, she had a job to do and she did not have another day to waste sitting here staring and wondering how to deal with that woman, the one that wanted to stay here and hide.
A fanned comb already pinned up Isha’s set hair, someone from one of the many salons on the promenade had been brought in earlier to arrange that and had long ago departed, Her outfit had been chosen with great care, she reflected as she pulled on the stiff collared silvery blue jacket. Its long sleeves clung to her arms and as she fastened the column of tiny iridescent buttons from her waist to throat each one clinched the fitted jacket in a little more the constriction giving her body support that immediately showed in the angle at which she held her head; this was not merely clothing, it was armour to disguise what was going on behind her serene mask.
And that mask was the last thing that Isha had to attend to before she returned to public life and left that other woman here. Reaching out with a perfectly manicured hand she selected a jar and flipped the lid off. It landed with a clatter and rolled on its edge to a standstill as she dipped her fingers in the jar. Lifting her fingers to her face Isha began the final stage of her transformation as she smoothed, blended, smudged, brushed and painted the other woman away.
As she laid the final brush aside Isha was satisfied with what she saw. The perfect visage, remote and beautiful. A benign front concealing divisions and struggles, pains and passions beneath the deceptive unified front; the living embodiment of the Stelam Shiar.
I have not worn so much make up since my wedding, Isha thought as she examined at her reflection in the looking glass.
That pathetic creature was gone, almost.
There was nothing even Isha could do to force the fire back into her eyes.
OFF
Ambassador Isha t'Khellian