THORNE Pavetta is dragged from the fountain, coughing and choking. Drowning. Dying. The last thing she remembers is… a ship. Duny. Their argument. Falling overboard. Drowning. Dying. She’s dead. She’s supposed to be dead. But she very plainly isn’t. No, she’s wet, and naked and laying on a stone platform. Breathing, her heart pounding in her chest. Two things that would be quite absent if she were dead.
Cirilla. At least Cirilla is safe from Duny and his machinations. Safe with Calanthe. No one will keep her daughter safer than her mother will. The Lioness of Cintra will see that no harm comes to her granddaughter. That makes her breathe a little bit easier. Just a bit.
Despite her nudity, Pavatta holds herself tall. Or tries to; whatever had been done to bring her here has left her weak, the power within her barely a flicker. Arching an eyebrow as the stranger with the book asks her to calm down, she remains silent. She’s as calm as any might be, having been saved from death and brought naked to a strange place. At least she is finally given clothes.
Dressed, she listens as one of the apprentices rattles on about the castle and why they’ve brought her here. Which concerns her. Do they know? Do they somehow know of the power that runs in her family? (After what has happened, that would not surprise her.) It only makes her all the more… wary, of her hosts. And their reasons.
She claims a bed in a room without fanfare, remaining to talk with those who she will be sharing space with for a bit, perhaps, before setting out to explore the castle at large. “This certainly isn’t Cintra,” she murmurs softly. What machinations will she find here, she wonders.
Sitting in the dining hall, a plate of food at hand that she nibbles at here and there (her appetite is hardly existent), she turns to someone near her. “These symbols,” she starts, indicating the one embroidered on her tunic, “Do you know what they mean?” She’s noticed that there are a number of them, not just the one she wears. It’s interesting.
As soon as she is able, Pavetta sets out to explore the town. To see what she can learn, and begin trying to discover what sort of place she’s found herself in. It’s abuzz with the arrival of the new guests. Which includes her as well, she supposes. It only serves to make her warier.
FREE CITIES Pavetta is dragged from the pool, coughing and choking. Drowning. Dying. The last thing she remembers is… a ship. Duny. Their argument. Falling overboard. Drowning. Dying. She’s dead. She’s supposed to be dead. But she very plainly isn’t. No, instead she’s wet, and naked, and laying on the ground. Breathing, her heart pounding in her chest. Two things that would be quite absent if she were dead. (As would be awareness of her surroundings.)
Cirilla. At least Cirilla is safe from Duny and his machinations. Safe with Calanthe. No one will keep her daughter safer than her mother will. The Lioness of Cintra will see that no harm comes to her granddaughter. That makes her breathe a little bit easier. Just a bit.
Despite her nudity, Pavatta holds herself tall. Or tries to; whatever had been done to bring her here has left her weak, the power within her barely a flicker. The woman in the much more fancy uniform is plainly in charge, and while the ease and the grinning, the smile, are welcoming, she doesn't trust her. She’s as calm as any might be, though, having been saved from death and brought naked to a strange place. At least she is finally given clothes. And the beginnings of an explanation, although she doesn't know if she believes it or not. Oh, it's probably partially the truth. But she doubts it's the entirety of it.
Pavetta stays to the edges of the training grounds. She's not her mother. She doesn't have the ferocity on the battlefield the way Calanthe does. She prefers reading, and quiet. But she watches. Wonders if she should learn. Wonders what might happen if she did.
The communal baths do take a bit of getting used to. The curtains around the tubs do help, but she tries her best to go when there's no one else there, slipping into the hot water filling one of the raised round tubs with a sigh. She doesn't mind water like this. But the memory of falling from the ship into the sea, the memory of drowning is too clear in her mind for her to be comfortable with more.
Curling up in an out of the way corner of the mess hall with a plate in front of her, Pavetta picks at her food. Her appetite is barely there, but she can at least nibble at it. Thinking. Do they know? Do they somehow know of the power that runs in her family? (After what has happened, that would not surprise her.) It only makes her all the more… wary, of her hosts. And their reasons.
Which is why she wastes no time in taking the wagon to Cadens proper, to get away from the barracks and explore the city. Wandering the markets, and the shops; listening to conversations and sometimes striking up a little conversation herself, searching for a bookshop as well, until she finds her way to an inn. She has nothing much in the way of money, but she has no desire to remain in the barracks. Perhaps she can barter. For now, though, she sits inside, a single drink in front of her as she listens and watches. Thinks.
WILDCARD
[Feel free to choose your own adventure, or message me and we can figure something out!]
Pavetta Fiona Elen | Witcher Netflix | The Lovers | SPOILERS FOR THE WITCHER
Pavetta is dragged from the fountain, coughing and choking. Drowning. Dying. The last thing she remembers is… a ship. Duny. Their argument. Falling overboard. Drowning. Dying. She’s dead. She’s supposed to be dead. But she very plainly isn’t. No, she’s wet, and naked and laying on a stone platform. Breathing, her heart pounding in her chest. Two things that would be quite absent if she were dead.
Cirilla. At least Cirilla is safe from Duny and his machinations. Safe with Calanthe. No one will keep her daughter safer than her mother will. The Lioness of Cintra will see that no harm comes to her granddaughter. That makes her breathe a little bit easier. Just a bit.
Despite her nudity, Pavatta holds herself tall. Or tries to; whatever had been done to bring her here has left her weak, the power within her barely a flicker. Arching an eyebrow as the stranger with the book asks her to calm down, she remains silent. She’s as calm as any might be, having been saved from death and brought naked to a strange place. At least she is finally given clothes.
Dressed, she listens as one of the apprentices rattles on about the castle and why they’ve brought her here. Which concerns her. Do they know? Do they somehow know of the power that runs in her family? (After what has happened, that would not surprise her.) It only makes her all the more… wary, of her hosts. And their reasons.
She claims a bed in a room without fanfare, remaining to talk with those who she will be sharing space with for a bit, perhaps, before setting out to explore the castle at large. “This certainly isn’t Cintra,” she murmurs softly. What machinations will she find here, she wonders.
Sitting in the dining hall, a plate of food at hand that she nibbles at here and there (her appetite is hardly existent), she turns to someone near her. “These symbols,” she starts, indicating the one embroidered on her tunic, “Do you know what they mean?” She’s noticed that there are a number of them, not just the one she wears. It’s interesting.
As soon as she is able, Pavetta sets out to explore the town. To see what she can learn, and begin trying to discover what sort of place she’s found herself in. It’s abuzz with the arrival of the new guests. Which includes her as well, she supposes. It only serves to make her warier.
FREE CITIES
Pavetta is dragged from the pool, coughing and choking. Drowning. Dying. The last thing she remembers is… a ship. Duny. Their argument. Falling overboard. Drowning. Dying. She’s dead. She’s supposed to be dead. But she very plainly isn’t. No, instead she’s wet, and naked, and laying on the ground. Breathing, her heart pounding in her chest. Two things that would be quite absent if she were dead. (As would be awareness of her surroundings.)
Cirilla. At least Cirilla is safe from Duny and his machinations. Safe with Calanthe. No one will keep her daughter safer than her mother will. The Lioness of Cintra will see that no harm comes to her granddaughter. That makes her breathe a little bit easier. Just a bit.
Despite her nudity, Pavatta holds herself tall. Or tries to; whatever had been done to bring her here has left her weak, the power within her barely a flicker. The woman in the much more fancy uniform is plainly in charge, and while the ease and the grinning, the smile, are welcoming, she doesn't trust her. She’s as calm as any might be, though, having been saved from death and brought naked to a strange place. At least she is finally given clothes. And the beginnings of an explanation, although she doesn't know if she believes it or not. Oh, it's probably partially the truth. But she doubts it's the entirety of it.
Pavetta stays to the edges of the training grounds. She's not her mother. She doesn't have the ferocity on the battlefield the way Calanthe does. She prefers reading, and quiet. But she watches. Wonders if she should learn. Wonders what might happen if she did.
The communal baths do take a bit of getting used to. The curtains around the tubs do help, but she tries her best to go when there's no one else there, slipping into the hot water filling one of the raised round tubs with a sigh. She doesn't mind water like this. But the memory of falling from the ship into the sea, the memory of drowning is too clear in her mind for her to be comfortable with more.
Curling up in an out of the way corner of the mess hall with a plate in front of her, Pavetta picks at her food. Her appetite is barely there, but she can at least nibble at it. Thinking. Do they know? Do they somehow know of the power that runs in her family? (After what has happened, that would not surprise her.) It only makes her all the more… wary, of her hosts. And their reasons.
Which is why she wastes no time in taking the wagon to Cadens proper, to get away from the barracks and explore the city. Wandering the markets, and the shops; listening to conversations and sometimes striking up a little conversation herself, searching for a bookshop as well, until she finds her way to an inn. She has nothing much in the way of money, but she has no desire to remain in the barracks. Perhaps she can barter. For now, though, she sits inside, a single drink in front of her as she listens and watches. Thinks.
WILDCARD
[Feel free to choose your own adventure, or message me and we can figure something out!]