Guitar in hand… The body cradling its musical craft… Lithe fingers pick and play a slew of notes most somber. It's a contemplative sort. Something simple and something sweet. A melody her hands could strum on their own while her thoughts went to the galaxy beside.
She needed to get her mind off of things. And onto matters more, ah, introspective. The stars in the sky… The nighttime air. The very grass underneath, the sighing winds that played with hair and leaves alike. The breath of life that filled the chest with something all the better for her. Something human. Something more than 'cosmic entity'.
Rosalina had found herself wanting. All of these years, and all of these forsaken tears. Stardust from the eyes, glittering rips in the seams of stained-glass skin. It seemed it was all coming to a head, now. Night was changing. Something… Something had to change, by the gods, something had to change. We can't keep going like this, you know. This behavior was never meant to last. No matter what our mighty, shining blood may tell us.
…But what was there to do? Where to go, what to say, how to say it, and who to beg for help? As that was it, wasn't it? Help…
Help on how to be human. To let these simple desires for freedom of duty take the whole of her away and find comfort in the degradation of self. For this current self of hers had never truly been perfect.
It was a liar. It was a mask for people to believe in. Her voice, her words are chosen from dialogue options. Pre-sets to pick out of a slew. Turning a blind eye to churning misfortune for the sake of upholding a station. Station, she could spit. Jurisdiction. Pre-ordained favor. Help the mighty and let the weak struggle. Pretend to be righteous and pray the good and clean never bother squinting to see what they truly reach out for.
—Yet self-flagellation will fix nothing. She, too, has tried that. And she is still right where she was always meant to be.
(playing, playing.)
(her fingers dance. she quiets.)
(glossy lips sink into a beautiful frown.)
oh, how she wishes she could cry. but never for herself. the backs of her eyes are stabbed with the sting of past mistakes. that is all she will be afforded.
No… What she needed was a decision. If change were to happen, she needed to know what would be voided in order to reach the other side. For she has seen it. Those brief windows into sanctuary. She… She can't get that moment with Jae to stray from her memory. Her heart has improved slightly, hasn't it? A Rosalina of the past would have never admitted she'd learned something from that experience, right? After all, her past self never wanted to admit she was wrong about Qbby—
—A skip in the cord.
She... she flinches.
Fingers fumble as a melody fuzzies. It grows ugly for that briefest of moments. And oh, quick is the recovery. Too quick. Like she'd be burned for letting her imperfections be seen. And unseen would her faults have gone were an audience around to view them. She would have gotten away with it, as she has done so for centuries uncountable.
…
…
...Her playing ceases.
Another song, perhaps. Let's play something else…
So… A plan more actionable. She had been in this place before. She knew what she wanted. ...Mostly, the voice at the back of her mind chimed. But mostly was better than not at all. It was only a matter of getting it. Never mind the part of herself that would kick and scream and claw and bite when it was finally time to change. How would she even get to that point?
The status of her station was a wall that barred her way first and foremost. Then, beyond that sat her general deposition and how the universe perceived it. Some landings view her as a god... And with how she carried herself in even the most casual of occurrences, it wasn't hard to assume why.
...Maybe she could fake her own death? —No, no... Too dramatic, we're trying to get away from the dramatics. Mayhap a simple... dress-down of things. Lose the gown for a while, as pretty as it was, transform her crown into some type of, hmm, lovely bracelet instead of an accessory that innately demands respect.
Voice low and quiet, it can't help but mumble. The more thoughts ruminate and roll upon themselves, her mind can't shake the feeling. "...Is what I've been searching for all this time a simple vacation? A... working vacation, perhaps, but... some time to just find myself and get lost like the olden days sounds... quaint. Mayhap a slow-going one-hundred years or so to try and sort myself out. To discover what of me is a character being portrayed on the pages of a storybook, and... what is truly me...?"
—Ah. So that's what hope felt like. She had forgotten it after all this time. How lovely. And strange. The idea warms her. To forgo the idea of station and destined duty. To roam the stars as her own, all without this celestial chain around her neck. The tome of do's and don'ts that ruled her every thought. The human inside of her begged for nourishment as well. For years nigh unending, it had only been the star in her heart that decided where steps strided.
Perhaps it was time for that other side to rove. At least for a little bit. After all, the balance of the universe was what most stars strived for, was it not? Such was what she had been taught as a youngling. And now, in this moment, rather unbalanced was her soul.
Yes... a conversation with those Stars was certainly in order. In due time. In due time.
