Susan Pevensie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gentlearcher) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-03-25 11:00 pm
gentlearcher) wrote in driftfleet2016-03-25 11:00 pm
Entry tags:
.01 where have you gone my feather-light heart?
Who: Susan Pevensie
Broadcast: Video
Action: Marsiva
When: March 25th
Action/Accidental broadcast
[Susan wakes up, and that is the first thing that's wrong. She isn't supposed to be waking up; she's supposed to be stepping through space and time and returning to the place where she now knows she belongs. Her brothers and sister are supposed to have come with her, and that is the second thing which is wrong: a quick glance to either side of her under the strange light (the third thing which is wrong) shows that though there are other beds, she is quite alone. She quickly sits up, feet swinging to the floor with a swish of long skirts (a forth thing that is wrong), and glances around her. Her voice is tart, anger and irritation (something has gone very, very wrong) disguising a gnawing fear.] What is going on here?
Susan glances around for any clue, but this place is foreign; far more so than Narnia had been. The sterility reminds her of a hospital in better days, the days before the War, and there is a strange, canned smell to the air. There's strength in her step as she strides to the window, strength more than Susan from London and she realizes that the Narnian air hasn't left her completely, and it is a very good thing indeed as standing at the window she suddenly finds it very hard to breathe. Hesitating, she places a hand flat on the cool glass as she stares and stares into a night sky.
She is in a night sky. Impossible was a meaningless word, but it was still the first thing she thought. Since impossible was a meaningless word, and Susan was, at her heart, a very practical person, the first thing she did was turn away from the window. The second thing she did was take a deep breath, gaze darting everywhere for any sign of her family, any hint of a weapon (she'd left her bow back in Narnia, given her horn to Caspian - Caspian - and there was no hint anywhere of the sunshine which followed Lucy, the warmth that was Peter, or the perception that was Edmund, making a joyous raucous in such a sterile, sterile place. She would look for them anyway. Surely she wouldn't have been the one sent off on an adventure on her own. They had to be here.)
After finding someone on the ship to help her, the video purposefully flickers on. The camera is initially too close, and picks up part of a conversation--]
[Deliberate Video]
--like this? [A muffled answer, a shot of light, intent eyes, and then the camera pulls back to frame only Susan's face. She is doing what she can to not reveal the dress.]
I've been given to understand that this device communicates with those assembled here against their will. I am sure this is not an unusual request, but any further information about the nature of this place or how we all came to be here [Is it Magic? It doesn't feel like Magic.] would be greatly appreciated.
...and if anyone has heard of my brothers, Peter and Edmund, or my sister Lucy, I would appreciate you contacting me. [She adds, as if this was not a driving force behind her finding out how to make such a post in the first place.] Thank you.
Broadcast: Video
Action: Marsiva
When: March 25th
Action/Accidental broadcast
[Susan wakes up, and that is the first thing that's wrong. She isn't supposed to be waking up; she's supposed to be stepping through space and time and returning to the place where she now knows she belongs. Her brothers and sister are supposed to have come with her, and that is the second thing which is wrong: a quick glance to either side of her under the strange light (the third thing which is wrong) shows that though there are other beds, she is quite alone. She quickly sits up, feet swinging to the floor with a swish of long skirts (a forth thing that is wrong), and glances around her. Her voice is tart, anger and irritation (something has gone very, very wrong) disguising a gnawing fear.] What is going on here?
Susan glances around for any clue, but this place is foreign; far more so than Narnia had been. The sterility reminds her of a hospital in better days, the days before the War, and there is a strange, canned smell to the air. There's strength in her step as she strides to the window, strength more than Susan from London and she realizes that the Narnian air hasn't left her completely, and it is a very good thing indeed as standing at the window she suddenly finds it very hard to breathe. Hesitating, she places a hand flat on the cool glass as she stares and stares into a night sky.
She is in a night sky. Impossible was a meaningless word, but it was still the first thing she thought. Since impossible was a meaningless word, and Susan was, at her heart, a very practical person, the first thing she did was turn away from the window. The second thing she did was take a deep breath, gaze darting everywhere for any sign of her family, any hint of a weapon (she'd left her bow back in Narnia, given her horn to Caspian - Caspian - and there was no hint anywhere of the sunshine which followed Lucy, the warmth that was Peter, or the perception that was Edmund, making a joyous raucous in such a sterile, sterile place. She would look for them anyway. Surely she wouldn't have been the one sent off on an adventure on her own. They had to be here.)
After finding someone on the ship to help her, the video purposefully flickers on. The camera is initially too close, and picks up part of a conversation--]
[Deliberate Video]
--like this? [A muffled answer, a shot of light, intent eyes, and then the camera pulls back to frame only Susan's face. She is doing what she can to not reveal the dress.]
I've been given to understand that this device communicates with those assembled here against their will. I am sure this is not an unusual request, but any further information about the nature of this place or how we all came to be here [Is it Magic? It doesn't feel like Magic.] would be greatly appreciated.
...and if anyone has heard of my brothers, Peter and Edmund, or my sister Lucy, I would appreciate you contacting me. [She adds, as if this was not a driving force behind her finding out how to make such a post in the first place.] Thank you.