FADE RIFT [INBOX]

[shri]

ＬＡＤＹ ＬＡＫＳＨＭＩ
( Lady Lakshmi, Bai Saheba, Rani Lakshmibai )

ＶＯＩＣＥ | ＡＣＴＩＯＮ | ＮＯＴＥＳ

Unavaliable To All:

• 30mins around dawn
  
  Only to Voice:
  
• Hour training morning and evening
  
• Any time she's gone riding.
  
• When she's in the field.
  
  Only to Book:
  
• When she's otherwise in a meeting, leave a message.
  
• Very late at night or early in the morning.
  
  Other:
  
• She usually takes her morning meals in the mess hall with everyone else.
  
• Her days are usually spent in Kirkwall seeing to either her personal business or Inquisition tasks.
  
• She has a bath twice a day, every day.
  

Comments

crystals;

[wythersake]

Have you seen these enchanted books they're pushing now?

[shri]

[ And - far more sedated than she had ever been. ]

Seems presumptuous of the creators of such things to believe everyone can read.

[wythersake]

Anyone can draw. Press leaves. Invent the leatherbound napkin.

[ well someone sounds like hot garbage, and it can't be isaac ]

Have you got one with you now?

[shri]

[ At least it's still #hot. ]

I regret to inform you, you have met someone who surely cannot draw.

[ But - alright. ]

I do.

[wythersake]

My lady. I never said you had to do it well.

Hand on the page, there you are, go ahead and trace around it.

[shri]

I should give you mudras, and see what you do then. [ She grumbles, like it is all too much bother. But distantly, there is a shift of papers being flicked over. A fresh page being found and smoothed to stay flat open as she runs a hand over it.

The ink pot clinks with the quill, and then one long-fingered hand appears on the page, drawn in a slow line. Slightly splayed so she could trace around each finger individually.

Then at the bottom corner, carefully, she writes her name so he could be sure it was hers: महारानी ]

[wythersake]

Mudras?

[ the pronunciation's careful — for all the rest of his speech remains terribly, chronically psuedo-french.

a pause (the slight discolouration of indentation; the pad of a thumb moved across the script), and another hand begins to wind its way about the lines of her own: now a little larger, one finger crooked at a slight and involuntary angle.

blocky trade inks its way in opposite her own. isaac.

they're holdin hands. ]

[shri]

[ It's a good effort, a decent effort. As much as the hand is a decent effort. It can't make her laugh, not right now, her heart is too full of her home. Too full of that misery, that sensation of something so close but snatched out of her hands and his is -

Another drawing begins, an embellishment. She colours in the tips of her fingers red, draws the circle in the middle of her palm. Round and red. At the base of each of his fingers, she draws a dot and curling lines below it that she mirrors on her own. ]

They are very specific hand-gestures, done in a dance style, called Kathak. [ And with the words of home, so too bleeds the voice of home, lilting at the edges on the harsh ku sounds of the word. ] Each one has a unique meaning which takes a part in telling the story the dancer is portraying. [ A little doodle takes up the bottom of the page. ] Alapadma. A bloomed lotus flower.