Ariadne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
demonicbeauty) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deernet2022-06-01 11:35 am
demonicbeauty) wrote in deernet2022-06-01 11:35 am
[ACCIDENTAL VIDEO]; UN: [USER NAME NOT SET]
[The feed springs to life without warning, as so many of the share memories have been doing, lately. At first it's mostly a wash of shadow and golden firelight, difficult to pin down to an exact time or place or person.
That changes as a mirror appears. A little girl is standing in front of it. She can't be terribly old. Maybe ten. But she's unmistakably green. It's Ariadne, no question. Skin the color of the underside of a maple leaf. Hair blue as candy floss, pulled into a tight braid over her shoulder. Little girl or adult, she has the same look of wonder in her gray eyes. Like she's completely fascinated with every single thing she encounters.
Right now, that wonder is her reflection.
An older--impossibly beautiful--woman appears at her side. She seems to be Human, with pink skin and black hair. She puts a hand on Ariadne's shoulder. Very, very carefully. Her voice is equally gentle.]
How do you feel?
[Ariadne looks at her in the mirror.]
Tired, mostly.
[The woman nods.]
Yes, that's to be expected. Does it hurt?
[Ariadne frowns.]
A little.
[She turns, looking back over her shoulder to keep her eyes on the mirror. The back of Ariadne's dress is stained with blood. Two long lines of it, running down each of her shoulder blades. She gasps, looking more startled than hurt. The other woman holds her steady.]
There will be scars. But they'll fade. In time. And you'll be able to pass for a Human, once you've healed. We'll survive. Together.
[Uncertainly, Ariadne wraps her arms around the woman's waist, burying her face against her side. The woman strokes her hair lovingly, as the memory fades.]
That changes as a mirror appears. A little girl is standing in front of it. She can't be terribly old. Maybe ten. But she's unmistakably green. It's Ariadne, no question. Skin the color of the underside of a maple leaf. Hair blue as candy floss, pulled into a tight braid over her shoulder. Little girl or adult, she has the same look of wonder in her gray eyes. Like she's completely fascinated with every single thing she encounters.
Right now, that wonder is her reflection.
An older--impossibly beautiful--woman appears at her side. She seems to be Human, with pink skin and black hair. She puts a hand on Ariadne's shoulder. Very, very carefully. Her voice is equally gentle.]
How do you feel?
[Ariadne looks at her in the mirror.]
Tired, mostly.
[The woman nods.]
Yes, that's to be expected. Does it hurt?
[Ariadne frowns.]
A little.
[She turns, looking back over her shoulder to keep her eyes on the mirror. The back of Ariadne's dress is stained with blood. Two long lines of it, running down each of her shoulder blades. She gasps, looking more startled than hurt. The other woman holds her steady.]
There will be scars. But they'll fade. In time. And you'll be able to pass for a Human, once you've healed. We'll survive. Together.
[Uncertainly, Ariadne wraps her arms around the woman's waist, burying her face against her side. The woman strokes her hair lovingly, as the memory fades.]
no subject
"That isn't fair you had to do it," he says, but he guesses it makes sense, if anything like that can make sense.
"Do you regret it?"
no subject
The Chocolatier had reminded her of that fact. And Ariadne chose to believe it was a gift, rather than a taunt.
But that was just Ariadne's way.