[ The once queen of Mauretania sits at the edge of her bed, regal even in just a plain tunic and pants and sandals, combing her hair with her fingers before attempting to fashion them into a braid. The Kingdom and the world is in great peril, and tales of your exploits have reached far and wide across universes, Selene remembers being told when she'd awakened, alive and whole. They succeeded, then? Miriam was alive, and the Ark was safe? But what did it mean, that the world was in peril still?

She gazes absent-mindedly out the room's window, and for a moment she gets so lost in her thoughts that she almost doesn't hear anyone else coming in. There's a sadness in her, but only a sliver; more than anything she radiates with contentment and strength, bearing the look of someone who's been through hell and back, and survived. ]

[ Selene finds herself drawn to something familiar: the library. Ah, she remembers the Library, and how within its walls she'd learned so much about the Shards of Heaven. Perhaps in this library she'll come across the information she needs, too. Information to understand what's going on, what exactly they're up against. Are they dealing with more Shards? More demons? Have other gates been opened, other horrors unleashed?

So she starts with Thorne, and its tales and legends and history. And she's so engrossed that she doesn't realize how late in the night it's become, not until she's interrupted by a kind stranger. She lifts her head and peers up at the other with bleary eyes, blinking and stifling a yawn. ]

I'm sorry, I didn't realize the time...

[ Selene is no stranger to dungeons. Even just walking through it brings back terrible memories of her childhood that she has to fold her arms and hug herself to keep them at bay. But she's always been curious and inquisitive, and since she's trapped in a strange new world she might as well get acquainted with her surroundings. Including the unpleasant ones.

That's not to say she isn't hoping to see familiar faces, if only to prove that she isn't alone in this perplexing predicament, that this isn't just something concocted by the demons that have been unleashed upon the world she knows. So she searches the faces of those in the cells, trying to see if there's anyone she recognizes, though she's certain her scrutiny will be unwelcome.

Or maybe not. Because the prisoners she befriends will eventually get things slipped to them. Food, information, small items. The guards she'll charm to look the other way and not pay too much attention — or she'll stage some act of cruelty, some fight, some encounter that'll earn them the blind eye. She's good at this. She's learned to do this since she was a child. ]