ｐｏｄｓ Before she even opens her eyes, Elizabeth is conscious of two things: one, there is something hard shoved down her throat, obstructing her airway. Second, and worst of all: she is in a very tight space. Her scream echoes off the walls of her pod. Her arms and legs strike at them, as she twists about to try and break herself free. Her throat is raw and she coughs, choking on the tube in her throat.
The pod releases her abruptly, and she tumbles hard onto the ground. Her throat is raw, as she splays on her hands and knees to try and recover her breath. She does not even notice that she is naked. What is that compared to almost being choked to death, and compressed in the tightest space she has ever seen? The lights are so bright, surely ungodly and unnatural, and she has to squint in order to see even a sliver of anything.
"Cecily?" she croaks, and reaches blindly for the wall, in order to pull herself up. "Where are you?"
ｓｈｏｗｅｒｓ This room is yet another marvel for her. And Elizabeth isn't quite down with public bathing. Just because the Romans used to do it in Britannia doesn't mean she wants to try it. But this gel-y stuff is all in her hair, which she is terribly vain about keeping clean. So she meanders inside, and might look funny, as she gives the faucet a perplexed look before tugging it to the right.
The water is cold! She yelps, and tugs the lever sharply in the other direction, only to almost scald herself.
What is this thing, anyway? Not really sure but equally not in the know as to who to ask, she tries the lever again.. and lucks out, finding a temperature that is suitable for her needs. The soap is much more straightforward and she can wash now no problem. Even if she has never heard of conditioner, and someone might want to point that out to her.
Elizabeth of York | The White Queen | OTA!
Before she even opens her eyes, Elizabeth is conscious of two things: one, there is something hard shoved down her throat, obstructing her airway. Second, and worst of all: she is in a very tight space. Her scream echoes off the walls of her pod. Her arms and legs strike at them, as she twists about to try and break herself free. Her throat is raw and she coughs, choking on the tube in her throat.
The pod releases her abruptly, and she tumbles hard onto the ground. Her throat is raw, as she splays on her hands and knees to try and recover her breath. She does not even notice that she is naked. What is that compared to almost being choked to death, and compressed in the tightest space she has ever seen? The lights are so bright, surely ungodly and unnatural, and she has to squint in order to see even a sliver of anything.
"Cecily?" she croaks, and reaches blindly for the wall, in order to pull herself up. "Where are you?"
ｓｈｏｗｅｒｓ
This room is yet another marvel for her. And Elizabeth isn't quite down with public bathing. Just because the Romans used to do it in Britannia doesn't mean she wants to try it. But this gel-y stuff is all in her hair, which she is terribly vain about keeping clean. So she meanders inside, and might look funny, as she gives the faucet a perplexed look before tugging it to the right.
The water is cold! She yelps, and tugs the lever sharply in the other direction, only to almost scald herself.
What is this thing, anyway? Not really sure but equally not in the know as to who to ask, she tries the lever again.. and lucks out, finding a temperature that is suitable for her needs. The soap is much more straightforward and she can wash now no problem. Even if she has never heard of conditioner, and someone might want to point that out to her.