[ Allowing others bundled up against the weather to board to the train before she does, Ysayle pauses to look at the station ceiling again, then at the train coaches themselves. If it is supposed to be cold, this woman appears unaffected by the local chill. Indeed, her pale complexion, eyes and lips are a near-match for the icy clime.
Ysayle has seen airships before, both Ishgardian and Garlean; her own followers had helped sabotage the former on occasion, and as for the latter..
Nothing like this, however. All of this technology is beyond her ken. Yet another element to set her teeth on edge in the midst of strangeness.
When she finally steps aboard, Ysayle makes a point to take up residence alone by one of the windows. All the better to view the mark forced on her in her reflection, fingers occasionally lifting to press against the long black line. The orientation had not helped set her at ease at all, either, and she cannot help but frown as one of the contract 'couples' employed to demonstrate what was considered acceptable behaviour walk past her.
Only once they're gone does she look around to get a better view of her fellow passengers. Is everyone on board here really okay with this..? ]
II. >> SUB SICKNESS
[ Being so new has lent Ysayle at least temporary immunity from such attention: her own mark has become more of a burgeoning purple lately, while she familiarises herself with the situation. Yet learning more of how the Up and Down co-exist (hah!) had simply served to remind her of the divide between noble and commoner in Ishgard - those nesting high in the Pillars having control over the lives of those sheltered in the Brume.
Contract or no contract - is this life really that different?
It is in the midst of being politely, but firmly, turned away by a fruit vendor who will not sell his wares to an unpartnered sub that Ysayle gets partial confirmation of her assumption: she pays witness to the manhandling of those who's disobedience have made them "unacceptable". There's a yell that catches her attention, and soon the sight of three distinctly different people, mark colours unclear (at least from her current angle), are being herded to the exit elevators in no small amount of haste, shoved and shunned, until they're trapped inside. It's unpleasant. It's cruel.
And the way others turn their eyes away is simply unacceptable.
Almost immediately, heedless of whether such a thing is appropriate in Duplicity or how it might affect her own mark, Ysayle begins to move in that direction. Her icy expression heralds her own intent - that of intervention for those under siege.
Care to stage an intervention of your own, before she ends up in over her head? ]
III. >> END IN THE DISCORD
[ How can anyone call this cacophonous mess of sound music?
That much Ysayle is able to register over the constant pulse she can feel in her bones, an unknown beverage shaded a brilliant orange held in one hand and a smaller ticker-pager device clasped tight in the other.
Curiousity demanded she enter the lottery, but that did not mean she had to follow through if she were granted an assignment. Mindful of her burden, the elezen maiden slips through the crowd with ease; everyone stands out here, meaning she doesn't at all, and she plans to make the most of it as much as everyone else does. Mindful not to touch as she goes, however-- She cannot even be sure that Mother Hydaelyn's gifts work here, after all, but better not risk it in a place like this.
When chance allows, she takes advantage of a balcony perch, all the better to watch those below-- or tries to. ]
Ysayle "Iceheart" Dangoulain // Final Fantasy XIV // Submissive
[ Allowing others bundled up against the weather to board to the train before she does, Ysayle pauses to look at the station ceiling again, then at the train coaches themselves. If it is supposed to be cold, this woman appears unaffected by the local chill. Indeed, her pale complexion, eyes and lips are a near-match for the icy clime.
Ysayle has seen airships before, both Ishgardian and Garlean; her own followers had helped sabotage the former on occasion, and as for the latter..
Nothing like this, however. All of this technology is beyond her ken. Yet another element to set her teeth on edge in the midst of strangeness.
When she finally steps aboard, Ysayle makes a point to take up residence alone by one of the windows. All the better to view the mark forced on her in her reflection, fingers occasionally lifting to press against the long black line. The orientation had not helped set her at ease at all, either, and she cannot help but frown as one of the contract 'couples' employed to demonstrate what was considered acceptable behaviour walk past her.
Only once they're gone does she look around to get a better view of her fellow passengers. Is everyone on board here really okay with this..? ]
II. >> SUB SICKNESS
[ Being so new has lent Ysayle at least temporary immunity from such attention: her own mark has become more of a burgeoning purple lately, while she familiarises herself with the situation. Yet learning more of how the Up and Down co-exist (hah!) had simply served to remind her of the divide between noble and commoner in Ishgard - those nesting high in the Pillars having control over the lives of those sheltered in the Brume.
Contract or no contract - is this life really that different?
It is in the midst of being politely, but firmly, turned away by a fruit vendor who will not sell his wares to an unpartnered sub that Ysayle gets partial confirmation of her assumption: she pays witness to the manhandling of those who's disobedience have made them "unacceptable". There's a yell that catches her attention, and soon the sight of three distinctly different people, mark colours unclear (at least from her current angle), are being herded to the exit elevators in no small amount of haste, shoved and shunned, until they're trapped inside. It's unpleasant. It's cruel.
And the way others turn their eyes away is simply unacceptable.
Almost immediately, heedless of whether such a thing is appropriate in Duplicity or how it might affect her own mark, Ysayle begins to move in that direction. Her icy expression heralds her own intent - that of intervention for those under siege.
Care to stage an intervention of your own, before she ends up in over her head? ]
III. >> END IN THE DISCORD
[ How can anyone call this cacophonous mess of sound music?
That much Ysayle is able to register over the constant pulse she can feel in her bones, an unknown beverage shaded a brilliant orange held in one hand and a smaller ticker-pager device clasped tight in the other.
Curiousity demanded she enter the lottery, but that did not mean she had to follow through if she were granted an assignment. Mindful of her burden, the elezen maiden slips through the crowd with ease; everyone stands out here, meaning she doesn't at all, and she plans to make the most of it as much as everyone else does. Mindful not to touch as she goes, however-- She cannot even be sure that Mother Hydaelyn's gifts work here, after all, but better not risk it in a place like this.
When chance allows, she takes advantage of a balcony perch, all the better to watch those below-- or tries to. ]
Ah, your pardon. Is this spot taken?
IV. >> WILDCARD
[ Have a different idea? Surprise me! c: ]