It's not like she hates this place. What she hates is how she's been taken away from her world, from her duty, and forced into another one. Her father was nowhere to be seen, and she can't trust that time will somehow stop back home, no matter what people say. And unfortunately, just dimming these emotions and putting on a pretty face isn't enough here.
Far from it. She'll never get home if she keeps... waffling around, genuinely unsure and genuinely distraught. So instead, she picks herself up, along with her amulet. And she turns her attention to what she's always been spectacular at, for better or for worse.
Diao Chan was made to dance.
The world around her may change. Technology may make leaps and bounds, leaving her behind. The seas and the skies themselves may swap places, or cease to exist at all. But it remains a fact that Diao Chan is very, very good at the things she trains herself to do. Dancing is, technically, just another art that is expected of her. A maid of such a high-class man must be refined, after all.
(Except she is no maid, and he is not just her master. But that's for another day-- if she dwells on that now, it might start raining.)
The unique... intricacies of the world make it hard for her to hide her emotions. But adaptation is key, and she's taken to over-exaggerating her feelings instead when the situation calls for it. She's the perfect image of a 'weak woman', after all-- she can fake a fainting spell to explain why the flowers around her wilting. A spontaneous fever to explain why a tree nearby caught fire. People will be swarming to help her.
At least... those who don't see right through the whole disguise. The people from back home, especially those who've heard the legends of a 'silver-tongued vixen' bringing down a tyrant, would probably be smart enough not to underestimate her from her looks. And yet, she looks so... innocent, now, dancing along the roadside.
Instead of wilting, flowers are springing up at her feet. It's a pretty sight.
If anyone sees her, she may or may not pretend not to notice them.]
why do we do this to each other
It's not like she hates this place. What she hates is how she's been taken away from her world, from her duty, and forced into another one. Her father was nowhere to be seen, and she can't trust that time will somehow stop back home, no matter what people say. And unfortunately, just dimming these emotions and putting on a pretty face isn't enough here.
Far from it. She'll never get home if she keeps... waffling around, genuinely unsure and genuinely distraught. So instead, she picks herself up, along with her amulet. And she turns her attention to what she's always been spectacular at, for better or for worse.
Diao Chan was made to dance.
The world around her may change. Technology may make leaps and bounds, leaving her behind. The seas and the skies themselves may swap places, or cease to exist at all. But it remains a fact that Diao Chan is very, very good at the things she trains herself to do. Dancing is, technically, just another art that is expected of her. A maid of such a high-class man must be refined, after all.
(Except she is no maid, and he is not just her master. But that's for another day-- if she dwells on that now, it might start raining.)
The unique... intricacies of the world make it hard for her to hide her emotions. But adaptation is key, and she's taken to over-exaggerating her feelings instead when the situation calls for it. She's the perfect image of a 'weak woman', after all-- she can fake a fainting spell to explain why the flowers around her wilting. A spontaneous fever to explain why a tree nearby caught fire. People will be swarming to help her.
At least... those who don't see right through the whole disguise. The people from back home, especially those who've heard the legends of a 'silver-tongued vixen' bringing down a tyrant, would probably be smart enough not to underestimate her from her looks. And yet, she looks so... innocent, now, dancing along the roadside.
Instead of wilting, flowers are springing up at her feet. It's a pretty sight.
If anyone sees her, she may or may not pretend not to notice them.]