- Messages
- 79
- Character Biography
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It was quiet in the manor owned by the kind duanann Ce-something-hard-to-pronounce-unless-she-twisted-her-tongue-a-certain-way. With winter a blink away, the manor in Winter Court was already sporting soft gray clouds that covered the pale blue sky. It was raining more often than when they had first arrived, and in the morning they would awake to the sight of their breath before their face.
Every day it was getting harder to leave the coaxing warmth underneath blankets. No matter how fast Signe hurried to dress herself the chill would immediately stretch itself over her skin and suck out any heat it could find. It made her appreciate the warmer days, to even think fondly of Autumn as freckled skin gave way to gooseflesh. The cold was also reminiscent of home and the harsh winters in Night Court.
She wondered if her siblings thought often of Alfheimr. It was in the crisp early mornings that the frigid air could make Signe imagine all the ice and crystals and frothy waters that would have broken sheets of ice crash into each other. Signe had been rather sad when they had moved to Unnuaq over two-hundred-and-fifty years ago. Unnuaq may have had better weather than Alfheimr but the storm giants were prone to making a fuss and causing screaming winds with window-shaking storms.
It had been much easier to sneak around during one of those fearsome storms.
Tiptoeing into Seryn’s room, Signe peeked over her shoulder to make sure she hadn’t been noticed. The quiet was ever present, the sort of quiet that pervaded throughout the whole estate so that every squeak of an old board sounded like a scream. Signe had made sure that Seryn was in the living room instead of the drawing room as it was further from the staircase that lead up to the bedrooms upstairs. Even though Seryn’s room was closer to the staircase, Signe had her fingers crossed that the new embroidery project was enough to keep her sister from hearing her erratic heart beat.
She was glad that all her efforts with dance, and the secret soon-to-be ballet, had granted her the ability to focus all her weight on one toe if she desired. Did it hurt? Of course it did without the block in her pointe shoes, but she really, really, really needed that pink lip oil that Seryn was always hiding from her. While Signe didn’t care for the color pink, this lip oil was special.
It was Seryn’s and it was Signe’s right as the younger sister to take what the older sister had. Whether it was a pair of cashmere socks or the vanilla-scented lip oil, all of it technically could be used by Signe. It was the way of the world that the Lusce sisters lived in. Even if Signe would get mad when Siobhan and Sybil enacted those rights on her— with only Sybil being immune to sisters borrowing her belongings— there was some sort of helplessness that would befall on her and let the younger ones get away with it.
It was why she felt little guilt when she began to search through Seryn’s room. There wasn’t much to go through as Seryn was rather neat and tidy despite the plethora of jewelry and clothing she owned. Signe only tended to be neat because she hated holding onto things that no longer suited her. Funny how that concept didn’t apply to her pining for home.
She opened up one of the jewelry boxes, looking through the collection of floral bracelets and earrings before going onto the next. More floral-themed jewelry. Some simple jewelry in another. Another with an assortment of gems in the shape of flowers on various hairpins that Signe was intimately familiar with when she put Seryn’s hair up. The last box had to have the lip oil. Signe knew it to be Seryn’s special box.
She wasn’t allowed to open it but she had plenty of times before. Seryn always ended up forgiving her in the end. And Signe knew with every fiber of her being that that particular lip oil was in there! So with little caution, she opened the box and pried off the velvet shelf that hid underneath all the good stuff. Signe had excepted to see the cherry blossom pink vial and the usual keepsakes, but instead she found a stack of letters. She saw Saang’s name.
Had Seryn been writing letters to Saang? Signe’s copper brows furrowed together, lips dipping into a frown. Seryn hadn’t told her of any correspondence with Saang. A hollow feeling came about her midsection as her stomach seemed to plummet into an abyss. Was something the matter? Had something happened that had to be kept from the other sisters? Was Saang injured? Their father dead? Mother harmed? Why wouldn’t Seryn tell her of these letters that Saang had sent? She opened the letter, recognizing Saang’s neat handwriting. She skimmed over the words quickly.
Her heart beat faster. She felt her face get red. She looked at the next letter, expecting Saang’s name once more but read a sloppy scrawl of the name Paetr. Without caring of the consequences, she opened this letter, skimming the words and confirming what Saang’s letter had said. There were more letters. She could stop here but… she couldn’t. Her hands moved almost on their own, her morbid curiosity getting the best of her. Signe went through every single letter, realizing that she was going backwards in time with the romance between her sister and the Night Court Lordling Paetr. Saang’s letters being brief intermissions in the building hurt growing in her chest.
Signe inhaled deeply, gritting her teeth as she held her breath. Tears didn’t threaten to spill just yet, even at the torrent of emotions that battled for the chance to control the dancer’s mind. Outrage won and Signe exhaled. All the other feelings, the betrayal, the confusion, the anger, the joy, the nervousness, the sadness, the bitterness, the practical patience— all of it took a step back, letting this fiery indignation come to center stage.
“SERYN!” Signe shouted, clutching the bundle of letters and wrinkling the paper. She softened her grip when she heard herself crumpling the papers, not wanting to ruin her evidence. Instead, her desire to move, to do something, went to her feet as she began to stomp down the stairs, letting everyone in the house know she was upset and she meant business. “HOW COULD YOU HIDE YOUR BoYfRiEnD FROM ME?!”
Seryn Lusce Siobhan Lusce Sybil Lusce
Every day it was getting harder to leave the coaxing warmth underneath blankets. No matter how fast Signe hurried to dress herself the chill would immediately stretch itself over her skin and suck out any heat it could find. It made her appreciate the warmer days, to even think fondly of Autumn as freckled skin gave way to gooseflesh. The cold was also reminiscent of home and the harsh winters in Night Court.
She wondered if her siblings thought often of Alfheimr. It was in the crisp early mornings that the frigid air could make Signe imagine all the ice and crystals and frothy waters that would have broken sheets of ice crash into each other. Signe had been rather sad when they had moved to Unnuaq over two-hundred-and-fifty years ago. Unnuaq may have had better weather than Alfheimr but the storm giants were prone to making a fuss and causing screaming winds with window-shaking storms.
It had been much easier to sneak around during one of those fearsome storms.
Tiptoeing into Seryn’s room, Signe peeked over her shoulder to make sure she hadn’t been noticed. The quiet was ever present, the sort of quiet that pervaded throughout the whole estate so that every squeak of an old board sounded like a scream. Signe had made sure that Seryn was in the living room instead of the drawing room as it was further from the staircase that lead up to the bedrooms upstairs. Even though Seryn’s room was closer to the staircase, Signe had her fingers crossed that the new embroidery project was enough to keep her sister from hearing her erratic heart beat.
She was glad that all her efforts with dance, and the secret soon-to-be ballet, had granted her the ability to focus all her weight on one toe if she desired. Did it hurt? Of course it did without the block in her pointe shoes, but she really, really, really needed that pink lip oil that Seryn was always hiding from her. While Signe didn’t care for the color pink, this lip oil was special.
It was Seryn’s and it was Signe’s right as the younger sister to take what the older sister had. Whether it was a pair of cashmere socks or the vanilla-scented lip oil, all of it technically could be used by Signe. It was the way of the world that the Lusce sisters lived in. Even if Signe would get mad when Siobhan and Sybil enacted those rights on her— with only Sybil being immune to sisters borrowing her belongings— there was some sort of helplessness that would befall on her and let the younger ones get away with it.
It was why she felt little guilt when she began to search through Seryn’s room. There wasn’t much to go through as Seryn was rather neat and tidy despite the plethora of jewelry and clothing she owned. Signe only tended to be neat because she hated holding onto things that no longer suited her. Funny how that concept didn’t apply to her pining for home.
She opened up one of the jewelry boxes, looking through the collection of floral bracelets and earrings before going onto the next. More floral-themed jewelry. Some simple jewelry in another. Another with an assortment of gems in the shape of flowers on various hairpins that Signe was intimately familiar with when she put Seryn’s hair up. The last box had to have the lip oil. Signe knew it to be Seryn’s special box.
She wasn’t allowed to open it but she had plenty of times before. Seryn always ended up forgiving her in the end. And Signe knew with every fiber of her being that that particular lip oil was in there! So with little caution, she opened the box and pried off the velvet shelf that hid underneath all the good stuff. Signe had excepted to see the cherry blossom pink vial and the usual keepsakes, but instead she found a stack of letters. She saw Saang’s name.
Had Seryn been writing letters to Saang? Signe’s copper brows furrowed together, lips dipping into a frown. Seryn hadn’t told her of any correspondence with Saang. A hollow feeling came about her midsection as her stomach seemed to plummet into an abyss. Was something the matter? Had something happened that had to be kept from the other sisters? Was Saang injured? Their father dead? Mother harmed? Why wouldn’t Seryn tell her of these letters that Saang had sent? She opened the letter, recognizing Saang’s neat handwriting. She skimmed over the words quickly.
Her heart beat faster. She felt her face get red. She looked at the next letter, expecting Saang’s name once more but read a sloppy scrawl of the name Paetr. Without caring of the consequences, she opened this letter, skimming the words and confirming what Saang’s letter had said. There were more letters. She could stop here but… she couldn’t. Her hands moved almost on their own, her morbid curiosity getting the best of her. Signe went through every single letter, realizing that she was going backwards in time with the romance between her sister and the Night Court Lordling Paetr. Saang’s letters being brief intermissions in the building hurt growing in her chest.
Signe inhaled deeply, gritting her teeth as she held her breath. Tears didn’t threaten to spill just yet, even at the torrent of emotions that battled for the chance to control the dancer’s mind. Outrage won and Signe exhaled. All the other feelings, the betrayal, the confusion, the anger, the joy, the nervousness, the sadness, the bitterness, the practical patience— all of it took a step back, letting this fiery indignation come to center stage.
“SERYN!” Signe shouted, clutching the bundle of letters and wrinkling the paper. She softened her grip when she heard herself crumpling the papers, not wanting to ruin her evidence. Instead, her desire to move, to do something, went to her feet as she began to stomp down the stairs, letting everyone in the house know she was upset and she meant business. “HOW COULD YOU HIDE YOUR BoYfRiEnD FROM ME?!”
Seryn Lusce Siobhan Lusce Sybil Lusce
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