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aboveallthings[In your hand is a fidget cube, a rounded white cube accented with buttons, dials, and switches in the color of a certain Family on the ship.
Play with any of the fidget cube's six sides and you'll receive a vision. There are two problems with this:
1) some very important information seems to have been blocked out, and
2) you know, with a bone-deep certainty, that this vision isn't yours.
But if this vision isn't yours...then whose is it? Maybe the color of your cube is a clue.]
BACK TO THE EVENT POST
Play with any of the fidget cube's six sides and you'll receive a vision. There are two problems with this:
1) some very important information seems to have been blocked out, and
2) you know, with a bone-deep certainty, that this vision isn't yours.
But if this vision isn't yours...then whose is it? Maybe the color of your cube is a clue.]
BACK TO THE EVENT POST
CHANT
Date: 2025-11-14 10:26 pm (UTC)~
[You’re reclined in the pavilion your lord husband built for you, laughing merrily as you sip fine rice wine from the jade cup in your hand. The musician bows his way off the stage, the last echoes of his lewd song fading. Your ears twitch where they are hidden in your headdress, listening for which courtiers politely mask their distaste and applaud, and who murmurs of scandal to their friends, foolishly thinking you cannot hear.
Your lord husband leans over to you, chuckling, red in the cheeks from alcohol and mirth. “A fine performance, wasn’t it, ■■■■?”
His humor is as genuine as his lust; he’s a creature as shameless as yourself, given a little encouragement. It’s why you like him. It won’t stop you from playing your games until he burns as well, but you do regret a little that he’s human, and not like you in body as well as mind.
“It was pleasing, dearest.” You pluck a piece of meat from the filigreed branches hanging low nearby for your convenience, then trail your cup in the running stream from the central pool, refilling it with wine. “But I think Lady ■■ is not as appreciative, no?”
The lady in question blanches behind her powder and paint, and you smile at her with your bright eyes and small sharp teeth. She’s at least smart enough not to scream when your lord husband beckons the guards with a lazy wave, to take her. Perhaps you’ll let her take a very warm walk later, as a reward, instead of just letting her waste away in a cell.]