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video — un: vast & furious.
( Last Emilia di Carlo was seen, she rode a thestral into the dark of night, with flowers burning in her hair and fury blazing in her eyes. Tonight, she looks somber and composed, her resolve no less steely for it. She sits at her desk, hair half braided into a coronet and the other half down in loose waves.
She's dressed practically, unlike when they're conforming to the city's fashions. )
I've gathered some donations from the nobility.
( Influence with the gentry (and their connections) helps, as does rich guilt. Emilia still takes great issue with everyone else being left to fend for themselves during the siege, but she decided to channel that anger into something productive. People need resources, not the consequences of her temper.
She'll need remember to do so on behalf of Vannozza. The siege doesn't, unfortunately, put an end to why they're here. )
I invite anyone that would like to help with its distribution to join me. Furthermore —
( Her brow furrows at the sudden commotion outside. The desk is close enough to the balcony that anyone who's decided to listen in is privy, as well. Much like the chimney debacle, really, except these are no protesters. No, these are two gentlemen suitors. And they bring ... poetry?
It would seem harrowing experiences turn already insensible men into impulsive brutes. Impulsivity further prompted by the fact Emilia, catch of the season, has yet to accept any offer. She's betrothed to someone else, in truth. Though at the moment, she'd like to eschew the presence of any and all men.
Forever.
The clearing of a throat: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day — "
"Look around, you complete and utter toadstool. It is far from summer, and you cannot propose when I intend to do so."
"The lady will not marry you. I am the one she favors — "
"No, I shall be her heart's truest desire in the end."
"Dear man, you know little of desire, if all rumors prove true."
"You besmirch my character! There is only one way to solve this — "
"Yes. Y e s - !"
"We duel at dawn!"
Emilia closes her eyes.
Draws in a deep breath. Prays to the goddess of strength and reasoning: may she keep a moon daughter from committing any violence this evening. )
You'll excuse me.
( Before she ends the transmission, a third unaffiliated voice can be heard, wailing in the distance, "I'm so alone." )
( ooc: this post is for their network only, but the commotion outside is, of course, free game for anyone to catch wind of.
this post is open all month. there's no such thing as too late.)
She's dressed practically, unlike when they're conforming to the city's fashions. )
I've gathered some donations from the nobility.
( Influence with the gentry (and their connections) helps, as does rich guilt. Emilia still takes great issue with everyone else being left to fend for themselves during the siege, but she decided to channel that anger into something productive. People need resources, not the consequences of her temper.
She'll need remember to do so on behalf of Vannozza. The siege doesn't, unfortunately, put an end to why they're here. )
I invite anyone that would like to help with its distribution to join me. Furthermore —
( Her brow furrows at the sudden commotion outside. The desk is close enough to the balcony that anyone who's decided to listen in is privy, as well. Much like the chimney debacle, really, except these are no protesters. No, these are two gentlemen suitors. And they bring ... poetry?
It would seem harrowing experiences turn already insensible men into impulsive brutes. Impulsivity further prompted by the fact Emilia, catch of the season, has yet to accept any offer. She's betrothed to someone else, in truth. Though at the moment, she'd like to eschew the presence of any and all men.
Forever.
The clearing of a throat: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day — "
"Look around, you complete and utter toadstool. It is far from summer, and you cannot propose when I intend to do so."
"The lady will not marry you. I am the one she favors — "
"No, I shall be her heart's truest desire in the end."
"Dear man, you know little of desire, if all rumors prove true."
"You besmirch my character! There is only one way to solve this — "
"Yes. Y e s - !"
"We duel at dawn!"
Emilia closes her eyes.
Draws in a deep breath. Prays to the goddess of strength and reasoning: may she keep a moon daughter from committing any violence this evening. )
You'll excuse me.
( Before she ends the transmission, a third unaffiliated voice can be heard, wailing in the distance, "I'm so alone." )
( ooc: this post is for their network only, but the commotion outside is, of course, free game for anyone to catch wind of.
this post is open all month. there's no such thing as too late.)
no subject
( To help, that is.
Part of what infuriated her about such a childish display of antiquated masculinity is it took away from her intended message, but if she's honest with herself, it's the whole situation. She hates to feel powerless, and she hates to feel weaponized. The Merchant and Taravast have a way of accomplishing both simultaneously. )
There's more to distribute, but I'm not sure it will be enough for very long. ( The generosity of Taravast's finest will only go so far. This won't help the tensions and resentments that are brewing, but that's just as well. They deserve whatever they have coming to them. )
no subject
I guess it's too much to ask that a crisis would unite everyone towards a common goal. [ It definitely didn't on 7/15, when the only thing anyone was interested in was where to place the blame. He can imagine it's frustrating for her for other reasons, but at least she's doing something. ]
You've gotta start somewhere. Just point me in a direction.