shipwrecked || furina & neuvillette

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Furina is lying in her bed, a pillow over her face - she hopes that it will stop the sun from rising, beginning another day in Fontaine. Of course, she wants everyone else to experience the brand new day. But it isn't something she is particularly interested in experiencing herself.

It has been thirteen days since she last left her apartment. She doesn't really know what to do with herself now, doesn't know where to go or what to do. She'd been carrying the weight of Fontaine on her shoulders for five hundred years and now... she isn't sure what to do without that pressure. She knew who she was when she was playing the role as the Hydro Archon, her place in the world had a purpose. And it was hard, it was isolating and impossible... but now... it feels like she has nothing. It feels like everything she's ever known has disappeared and she is lying in the wake of ruin.

The first few days of her newfound freedom had been exciting, she'd helped Lumine and the theatre company in directing their performance - she'd felt like she was important. But the show had ended, and although she might have a Vision now, she feels more isolated than ever. It's been nearly an entire month since then - and she has lost all confidence she had.

Turning over on her side, Furina stares out the window.
It is raining.
That's the first thing she notices on this Wednesday morning. She flinches at the realisation. If Furina is honest with herself - which she's not - she'd admit that she's scared of water. She is scared of the sight of it, of how it feels on her skin. Of the smell when it rains, of the sound it makes on the pavement, or her roof... of how it tastes in her mouth - Furina hates it all. She avoids it at all costs.

It all just takes her back to that awful day, the day where she failed to escape the prophecy, failed to save everyone in Fontaine. The tears that fell down her face as she sat there, the way Fontaine took days to dry up and even now, she still sees a puddle and panics.

It all just takes her back to that moment, and even the thought of it is enough to make her feel nauseous. So she turns back to stare at the ceiling, holding her pillow close to her chest. Sometimes she wonders if maybe she should come up with a new character, someone else to fill her shoes. She figures that would be easier than finding herself - who she is behind the script, behind all of the lies she had to tell these past five hundred years. Sometimes the Hydro Archon just comes out - it is in her character now, sometimes she will catch herself laughing, catch herself acting as if the Hydro Archon would have. But that is not her - not anymore. Now... she is simply Furina.

Furina.

She's not sure who that is, or who she's supposed to be, or what kind of person she should be. She's not the mortal half of an Archon, she's not walking a dangerous tightrope... she's not who she was brought into this world for. Her purpose in the world vanished like one of Lyney's magic tricks.

The girl with silver hair gets out of bed, glancing at herself quickly in the mirror. She smiles - it is fake, but sometimes she likes to check that she still knows how to act. Just in case.
She moves a lock of hair out of her face when a knock on the door makes her flinch. The sound makes her panic - she is still worried, even now, that someone will be coming to take her away, that maybe she'll be taken back to the Oratrice and she'll be sentenced to death again. She goes to head downstairs but realises that she is only wearing a nightgown. So she reaches into her closet and slips on her robe. It is fashioned of silk, and has floaty sapphire blue feathers cuffing the sleeves. Even now, even just as Furina, she still very much looks like an Archon. Slipping on a pair of ballet flats that she often wears around the house, Furina heads downstairs.

She hovers on the bottom step, her anxiety getting the better of her. Clearing her throat and forcing herself to act nonchalant about the fact there is someone on the other side of the blue door in front her, she speaks.
"Who is it?" They are the first words she's spoken out loud in days and her voice gets stuck in her throat. She curses herself, knowing that she has just ruined the impression, the act, the show that she is trying to convey.
"Neuvillette," the voice speaks softly.
"What is it that you want from me, Monsieur Neuvillette?" Furina takes three steps closer to the door, her voice inquisitive. The voice outside hesitates, and Furina clutches her hand around the door knob.
"I wanted to make sure that you were indeed still alive and well." His voice spoke solemnly.
Furina gazes down at the floor. Before she can reply, he speaks again.
"Lady Furina, are you going to open the door?"
She sighs, but can't help the hint of a smile on her lips as she hears him. Her hand is still on the door handle but something is stopping her from opening it. She doesn't know what it is, but she doesn't know if she wants him in her home. He was from her old life, he knew the old Furina. They've worked together for five hundred years...she doesn't know why she felt ashamed to have him see her like this.
"Furina?" His voice is gentle, and she closes her eyes. She forces herself to open the door.