ArchivedLogs:Vignette - The Mirror and the Veil: Difference between revisions
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| subtitle = | | subtitle = | ||
| location = <NYC> Isra's apartment - Morningside Heights | | location = <NYC> Isra's apartment - Morningside Heights | ||
| categories = Xavier's, Mutants | | categories = Xavier's, Mutants, Private Residence, Vignette, Isra | ||
| log = Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Isra gazes ruefully at the khimar in her hands. Her faint sigh is swallowed by the thunderous notes of the third Brandenburg Concerto from her bedroom. She runs long fingers over the fabric, soft, gray, and worn. Then she lifts her eyes to the image in the glass. Two ridged ivory horns, each almost eight inches in length now, sprout from her hairless skull just above her temples and sweep back, curving slightly outward. | | log = Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Isra gazes ruefully at the khimar in her hands. Her faint sigh is swallowed by the thunderous notes of the third Brandenburg Concerto from her bedroom. She runs long fingers over the fabric, soft, gray, and worn. Then she lifts her eyes to the image in the glass. Two ridged ivory horns, each almost eight inches in length now, sprout from her hairless skull just above her temples and sweep back, curving slightly outward. | ||
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Exiting her bathroom, Isra folds the gray headscarf back up and returns it to its drawer. Her wings trail behind her, unbound, and from beneath the hem of her abaya her tail lashes the air like that of an agitated feline. There are no unsecured objects below waist height in her room, but the tip of one wing knocks over the makeup brush stand as she passes her vanity. She stares down at the brushes for a moment, then retrieves a smartphone from her pocket and scribbles a note with a stylus. | Exiting her bathroom, Isra folds the gray headscarf back up and returns it to its drawer. Her wings trail behind her, unbound, and from beneath the hem of her black abaya her tail lashes the air like that of an agitated feline. There are no unsecured objects below waist height in her room, but the tip of one wing knocks over the makeup brush stand as she passes her vanity. She stares down at the brushes for a moment, then retrieves a smartphone from her pocket and scribbles a note with a stylus. | ||
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“Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face, | “Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face, | ||
But you are life and you are the veil. | But you are life and you are the veil. | ||
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror, | Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror, | ||
But you are eternity and your are the mirror.” | But you are eternity and your are the mirror.” | ||
Isra smiles wanly and tucks the note into the outer pocket of her laptop bag before slinging it over her shoulder. Then she drapes the shawl loosely around her neck, letting it cover the base of her wings where they emerge from the custom scyes. | Isra smiles wanly and tucks the note into the outer pocket of her laptop bag before slinging it over her shoulder. Then she drapes the shawl loosely around her neck, letting it cover the base of her wings where they emerge from the custom scyes in her abaya. The shawl's color is spring rendered into fabric dye, the precise shade of a newly sprouted leaf. It smells of incense. | ||
Descending the steps into the entryway, Isra takes more time and care than wonted in wrapping her feet. At last, hesitating only briefly with her hand on the doorknob, she steps outside. | Descending the steps into the entryway, Isra takes more time and care than wonted in wrapping her feet. At last, hesitating only briefly with her hand on the doorknob, she steps outside. | ||
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Latest revision as of 16:30, 13 October 2015
Vignette - The Mirror and the Veil | |
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Dramatis Personae | 2013-04-30 It's time to leave the hijab behind. |
Location
<NYC> Isra's apartment - Morningside Heights | |
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Isra gazes ruefully at the khimar in her hands. Her faint sigh is swallowed by the thunderous notes of the third Brandenburg Concerto from her bedroom. She runs long fingers over the fabric, soft, gray, and worn. Then she lifts her eyes to the image in the glass. Two ridged ivory horns, each almost eight inches in length now, sprout from her hairless skull just above her temples and sweep back, curving slightly outward.
But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror, But you are eternity and your are the mirror.”
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