Room 406, OMG early Tuesday morning, NFB
Nov. 6th, 2006 11:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
izzyalienqueenIsabel had slept reasonably well Sunday night. She supposed talking to Parker yesterday about the Dupes and the problems with Max had helped. Parker was right, she wasn’t Lonnie or Vilandra and despite what they had both done, it didn’t mean she was going to betray or hurt Max. She’d lived a completely different life, was a completely different person. And despite the alien essence she shared with them both, her irrational fears about Vilandra coming out, were just that, fears.
After Interstellar Relations, and a quick stop in the common room for food, Isabel returned to her room and started reviewing the latest polls on the election. When she had enough of that, she watched the download of the latest Wreathmist episode, before finally getting ready to bed.
Vilandra was back on the balcony, watching the reddish light from the double moons cast shadows over the garden. Inordinately pleased with herself she took a sip of the iced wine and closed her eyes. A part of her wanted to run through the staid hallways of the palace shouting out what she’d done. But she waited, amusing herself by picturing Zan and Rath’s faces when they realized the truth. It was all a matter of timing he said. Of waiting until things were in motion and she, they, couldn’t be stopped. Staying quiet was going to be difficult in the face of the condescension she dealt with daily. But she would do it. Waiting for the day they would never be able to ignore her again.
The alarm sounded and Isabel reached out to shut it off, but she didn’t move from the bed. She could almost dismiss the first oh-so-real dream from Saturday night as nothing more then the result of fighting with Max about Vilandra and what she had done. But another dream? That built on the first? With emotions so real they carried over when she woke up?
She turned; burying her face in the pillow, certain she knew what was happening but unwilling to face it.
[OOC: Wreathmist = Torchwood. It’s actually an anagram of Mister What courtesy of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
soldtoarmenians. Just establishing. Not open for interaction.]
After Interstellar Relations, and a quick stop in the common room for food, Isabel returned to her room and started reviewing the latest polls on the election. When she had enough of that, she watched the download of the latest Wreathmist episode, before finally getting ready to bed.
Vilandra was back on the balcony, watching the reddish light from the double moons cast shadows over the garden. Inordinately pleased with herself she took a sip of the iced wine and closed her eyes. A part of her wanted to run through the staid hallways of the palace shouting out what she’d done. But she waited, amusing herself by picturing Zan and Rath’s faces when they realized the truth. It was all a matter of timing he said. Of waiting until things were in motion and she, they, couldn’t be stopped. Staying quiet was going to be difficult in the face of the condescension she dealt with daily. But she would do it. Waiting for the day they would never be able to ignore her again.
The alarm sounded and Isabel reached out to shut it off, but she didn’t move from the bed. She could almost dismiss the first oh-so-real dream from Saturday night as nothing more then the result of fighting with Max about Vilandra and what she had done. But another dream? That built on the first? With emotions so real they carried over when she woke up?
She turned; burying her face in the pillow, certain she knew what was happening but unwilling to face it.
[OOC: Wreathmist = Torchwood. It’s actually an anagram of Mister What courtesy of
soldtoarmenians. Just establishing. Not open for interaction.]
