wormintheglass: (shoulders)
[personal profile] wormintheglass
[It's not that Bianca hasn't been enjoying the party. She's been everywhere, but fleetingly: pouring drinks, drinking toasts, absorbing the ambience, drinking some more. She has made no effort to take centre stage - till now.

It's during the last days, when everyone is feeling the worse for wear and the riotousness has died down some, that Bianca appears on the network.

She is not on a stage, not using one of the karaoke machines. She's in her house, the lights low, and one of her pet hyenas props her back up while the other acts as a footrest. She has an open bottle of tequila in one hand, and the carcasses of several empties lie around her. When she stares into the video feed, the unfocused look in her eyes suggests that standing up might currently be beyond her power. Her mirror lies on her lap.

Instead of speaking, Bianca starts to sing. Her voice is deep, powerful and true, and she doesn't speak until the song is finished.]


My cavemates. My friends. I fell here from a great ship between the stars, one just as inescapable and dark as these tunnels, just as full of monsters.

It had its own mirror, its own equal and opposing force. I shall not bore you with the tale of the two ships' struggle for dominance, of how I changed sides and fought at my own side for love and redemption.

[She says these words with derisive emphasis, and then smiles.]

I was sure I would die. What does one do, after one's great heroic sacrifice is rejected? After one wakes from the final battlefield to find oneself on another battlefield, ridden by yet more gods and monsters?

[She answers her own question by raising her bottle shakily to take another deep swallow.]

I am Bianca. Tell me, my children, where did you arrive here from? Where is your home?

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