Voices from Heaven (
thespaceopera) wrote in
driftfleet2015-10-20 10:06 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
Sweet dreams are made of these...
( for A-M characters )
Before you post your topcomment, please:
1. Check the first letter of your character's name as its written in our tags. A-M names comment here, and N-Z names go to the other post.
2. Make a note in your topcomment if anything especially triggering or graphic might show up in the Calibration. If you're not sure if something's worth noting or not, we suggest listing it anyway, just to err on the side of caution.
3. Put your character's name (it can be shortened or different from the tag, this time) in the subject of your comment. This will help visitors find you easily, and help us update the list below.
4. Post your comment! It's fine if everyone's Calibrations end up looking and reading very different from one another. As long as you're having fun and following our guidelines, you're good to go. :)
5. If you have any questions or concerns during Calibrations, you are welcome to send them towards the mod team at any time, as always.
sight.
[It's amazing, Daria thinks, that this sort of thing barely fazes her anymore; after months of dealing with New Moore's unfortunate ideas about what's amusing, almost nothing surprises her about this situation. It's a new experience, of course, being held captive in such a clichéd manner. Daria has to make an effort to silence her inner monologue, keep it from veering into territory populated with serial murderers.
She doesn't struggle much once she realizes the truth of her circumstances - she's chained, she's alone, she's not going anywhere. She just sighs, loudly, and devotes her attention to studying the room, and everything in it.]
no subject
[What ends up happening is - dramatic, but also not; dramatic in that it happens suddenly, not because it doesn't happen with a poof or a bang or a clap of thunder. There's just, very abruptly, another young woman sitting on the edge of the vanity, legs crossed at the ankle, leaning back on her hands and regarding Daria with curiosity.]
[At first glance, she looks almost identical to the girl in the mirror. The big, obvious difference is that her black hair is cropped short and boyish, but otherwise she's the same: thin, small, pale, effortlessly graceful. She's dressed in black, but her black manifests as trousers and a long-sleeved shirt. She arches one perfect brow, quirks her lip, and eats a bite of what appears to be fruit salad from the bowl that's inexplicable in her hand.]
You didn't think it went both ways, did you?
no subject
[Great, Daria thinks, studying the other girl. Just what I needed. Vague, mysterious nonsense. Like there isn't enough of that already. She sighs again, letting her shoulders slump, an expression in response to the futility of everything.]
And who are you, anyway? What am I doing here?