-Hail to the Queen- [ Closed to the Floral Court ]
The morning of Merrymeet, Dahlia steps into Town Hall for the very first time since her birthday.
It feels strange to be back in this place, a few feet from the desk where she sat for so many of her days, signing in new residents, receiving unnecessary signatures from Sheogorath, chatting over coffee and tea with her coworkers. Her friends. She stands close to Fever, nearly behind her for shelter. She listens intently as Mayor Poe reads the results.
"...and in first place," Hellen says, taking a long pause. The Mayor swallows roughly, and smiles, just a little. "Dahlia Leeds."
Dahlia just stands there, among the fourteen other contestants for Flower Queen, looking like she's just been dropped out of the sky. What? Say that again? Who did you say was Flower Queen? The words don't come. They stick in her throat like chilled molasses, and her mouth falls open in shock.
A realization washes over her. All her life, Aster had told her that she could never reveal what she was. "You are not like them," he would say. "You are a monster, born and bred to consume them, to take from them. That's all that you are, Dahlia. You wear the mask of a pretty little debutante, but it's all a charade to hide you in plain sight. You aren't one of them. You never will be. If any of them ever find out the truth, they will never, ever accept you."
But that's not true, is it? Not just Laios, Daisy, Radar, and Fever, but---
But a whole lot of people, it seems.
Dahlia places her head in her hands, and sobs. She can't help it, even in front of all those people. The veneer of demonic royalty and trained socialite cracks at last, and what's left underneath is the delicate center--- a girl who only ever wanted to be liked.
-Party Prince-
By the time lunch is served, Dahlia has managed to calm down a bit and is just looking... happy. She seems more herself now than she has in ages, chatting with people at the head table before hauling Radar out to the Green for a dance. She's happy to save a toast or a dance for anyone who wants one! Come greet your Flower Queen!
-Wildcard- [ Whatever ya like! I didn't have any specific plans for her for Sad Time yet. ]
Dahlia Leeds || NPC || OTA
[ Closed to the Floral Court ]
The morning of Merrymeet, Dahlia steps into Town Hall for the very first time since her birthday.
It feels strange to be back in this place, a few feet from the desk where she sat for so many of her days, signing in new residents, receiving unnecessary signatures from Sheogorath, chatting over coffee and tea with her coworkers. Her friends. She stands close to Fever, nearly behind her for shelter. She listens intently as Mayor Poe reads the results.
"...and in first place," Hellen says, taking a long pause. The Mayor swallows roughly, and smiles, just a little. "Dahlia Leeds."
Dahlia just stands there, among the fourteen other contestants for Flower Queen, looking like she's just been dropped out of the sky. What? Say that again? Who did you say was Flower Queen? The words don't come. They stick in her throat like chilled molasses, and her mouth falls open in shock.
A realization washes over her. All her life, Aster had told her that she could never reveal what she was. "You are not like them," he would say. "You are a monster, born and bred to consume them, to take from them. That's all that you are, Dahlia. You wear the mask of a pretty little debutante, but it's all a charade to hide you in plain sight. You aren't one of them. You never will be. If any of them ever find out the truth, they will never, ever accept you."
But that's not true, is it? Not just Laios, Daisy, Radar, and Fever, but---
But a whole lot of people, it seems.
Dahlia places her head in her hands, and sobs. She can't help it, even in front of all those people. The veneer of demonic royalty and trained socialite cracks at last, and what's left underneath is the delicate center--- a girl who only ever wanted to be liked.
-Party Prince-
By the time lunch is served, Dahlia has managed to calm down a bit and is just looking... happy. She seems more herself now than she has in ages, chatting with people at the head table before hauling Radar out to the Green for a dance. She's happy to save a toast or a dance for anyone who wants one! Come greet your Flower Queen!
-Wildcard-
[ Whatever ya like! I didn't have any specific plans for her for Sad Time yet. ]