It's in remarkably good condition for having been dyed. You take good care of it.
[Which was probably expected for those that make a living off of doing hair. No one washed to have someone with a rat's nest in their head doing their hair.]
I would love for you to braid my hair.
[Settling one more to relax, eyes falling closed, ianthe hummed in thought.]
It's important to feel like yourself. It's expected in the House I'm from, especially among the royalty, to... fix any flaws and be made into works of art. Almost everyone has work done to some extent. I never bothered.
[ Still part of her Mother's insistence that stuck with her, the preoccupation with her appearance was likely something that would never go away. It was more valuable than not. After all, she'd gotten Ianthe's attention, hadn't she? People often paid more attention to what you had to say when there was something pretty to look at.
To be made into works of art was the part that stuck with her. The part that could have been something her Mother demanded of her children, if she didn't have other purposes for them. ]
Body work. We're a House that excels in flesh magic.
[Among other things.]
Boobs, ass, getting rid of unwanted fat, reshaping the face to be more pleasing, altering hair color, texture, length. Anything unwanted physically for whatever a person's purpose was.
We're the pretty people, the House of the Shining Dead. A way to disarm people. They say all sorts of things when they forget that there's a vulture or a viper under that pretty face, depending on whether they're a necro or not.
[The Third House was the Empire's information brokers, its spies. Chameleons. Ianthe had always been good at her job - too good. Even if she'd wanted it, she wouldn't have been allowed to become perfect like her sister. She needed to be overlooked back then, to carry the con off. By Third House standards, Ianthe wasn't considered attractive.]
[ She began, the soft sound of the blades cutting into the hair filling the spaces in between words. Ianthe brought up vultures and vipers, but the word that came to Robin's mind was parasite. ]
That sounds like a lot of pressure, I think.
[ Spoken without judgment or pity, because she understood. Perhaps she would have looked very differently now, if Mother had ever permitted (forced) her children to do that. No— they had to be modeled to perfection through their behavior, their health and her rules. ]
Was it something you enjoyed at the time? Performing your duties?
[A lot of pressure? Robin had no idea the amount of pressure Ianthe had been under growing up to be necromancer enough for both her and her twin sister. It made her laugh - a low, mirthless sound - for a couple seconds before she stopped so as to not jostle Robin's hand with those scissors.]
Sometimes. There was definitely a rush and a sense of accomplishment, but so much of it was just... empty. It was never for me, always for her. It turned me into such a mean bitch.
[Ianthe met her own gaze in the mirror with her stolen eyes.] But it was worth it. Just another price I had to pay. Nothing to shed tears over.
[ She didn't mind the laugh. Robin could almost guess what the sound was made of — the feelings tied up inside like knots, memories that followed like a shadow. She'd be laughing if someone knew the truth about her and said the same.
But so much of it was just... empty. Robin's hands slowed down then, gaze turning dull for a moment. It was, wasn't it? But it didn't seem like it'd made Ianthe hollow. If it had, then Ianthe was an incredible liar, and if she was a liar, they were both in deserving company. ]
I'm glad it was worth it.
[ She continued, standing behind Ianthe now. Looking at her through the mirror. ]
[Ianthe was indeed a liar; she was trained very well to present the face necessary for her goals. But she mostly didn't care anymore. The vast majority of people just weren't worth her notice. Extras in the background of her life...]
Mhmm. Twin sister. No other siblings. My House grav-carries instead of using VAT, and I ruined that for my mother with my birth. Though I suppose since they need a new heir, they'll probably reconsider VAT.
[She paused then, meeting Robin's eyes in the mirror.] I'm a princess.
[ Quietly listening, as always, Robin offered little more than a nod. Immediately understanding and accepting that Ianthe was a princess, even if the terms that had come before were foreign to her. She could be lying about that too, but it wasn't a very meaningful lie. Not here, when even Queen Alicent recognized that she was no longer a queen of anything.
Just like Robin was no longer the heiress of a renewed world to be. ]
Princess Ianthe.
[ Trying it on her tongue. It didn't seem like she intended to keep using it, unless Ianthe asked her to. ]
Could you tell me more about those terms you used? 'VAT'.
Ugh, just Ianthe is fine. I haven't really been Princess of Ida in two years and it's the least of my titles. I only bother pulling them out if someone slaps their title dick down on the table.
[And they didn't matter. Deathwarden meant more here than anything else.]
VAT is an acronym but I don't remember what it stands for. So, in the Nine Houses, when people procreate, they can either grav-carry - which is in utero on a planetary installation with natural gravity - or make use of a VAT womb. That's a technological incubator that gestates a human embryo.
Ah... VAT is used during non-planterary procreation, so those that have good off to war can continue the family line even if they die, or the rich that literally don't want to grav-carry and go through the birthing process. Most VAT births start as grav-carry into the embryo reaches a certain stage and then they are transferred to the VAT to finish gestation.
[ She slowed down temporarily, more attention on Ianthe's words than her own work, imagining what such a world looked like. Then imagining if Mother had access to such possibilities. Doubtful that she'd take part in any way using her own body, but she certainly wouldn't have had to bother with all the bribery, the corruption, the vulnerabilities that eventually culminated in the raid and her arrest. Her little army of children could have grown even larger, then, and what a terrifying fate that would've been. ]
I see. [ Going back to her steady rhythm, ] Are there adoptions?
Goodness, [ She breathed out, hands pausing for a moment.
The shock wasn't genuine. Robin wasn't an orphan, as far as she was aware, but she'd been taken to another family. And she'd been fighting long before she was that age. If anything, her indoctrination made her inclined to think that those orphaned children were fodder for a cause that'd never be relevant to her, even if the Family had somehow shared the world Ianthe came from.
They probably would've thought the same of the Beckers, unless Mother had found a way to place herself among the families that mattered. ]
[Ianthe didn't see it for being as fucked up at it was. It was just part of life, part of the Empire, and the propaganda was very strong. The only reason Ianthe hadn't served as an officer in the Cohort - as expected being a seat of education along with the practical military service - was because of Corona's con. They had private tutors so no one would learn that Coronabeth had not a single necromantic bone in her body.]
It could get a bit chaotic with so many of us, but — I was happy. It wasn't perfect. [ Something she would have never admitted before. ] I think that's normal with every family.
[Ianthe hummed in acknowledgement. Ezra. She would remember that name, not for the apparent favoritism but because the longing. It was barely there but caught her attention.]
[Even when the family wasn't large. It must be a requirement.]
That sucks. Maybe reconciliation can happen in the future. If not with the family as a whole but between you and him. Especially if you're his favorite.
[ Was, she wanted to repeat. Reconciliation required either her or him to admit something else: that one of them was wrong. Ezra — who even changed his named to Norman — for rejecting everything Robin had ever known, or Robin, who thought of her past as a monster that haunted her, yet had left a hole in her chest.
She'd find a way to change that, here. The more people grew attached to her, the more protected she'd feel, and protection meant security. One day she might even become untouchable. ]
... I hope so. [ Empty words. Then, as if someone reminded her to smile, ] We'd have to be in the same place, first.
[ She was done with Ianthe's hair. Her tone was kinder, now that her attention was back on the other woman. ] We should let your hair dry now, unless you want to change something.
[ That same smile grew when Ianthe thanked her. Robin began to put her things away after; she'd style it later, keep talking about other topics if she'd like. Ianthe's company was enjoyable regardless. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Which was probably expected for those that make a living off of doing hair. No one washed to have someone with a rat's nest in their head doing their hair.]
I would love for you to braid my hair.
[Settling one more to relax, eyes falling closed, ianthe hummed in thought.]
It's important to feel like yourself. It's expected in the House I'm from, especially among the royalty, to... fix any flaws and be made into works of art. Almost everyone has work done to some extent. I never bothered.
no subject
[ Still part of her Mother's insistence that stuck with her, the preoccupation with her appearance was likely something that would never go away. It was more valuable than not. After all, she'd gotten Ianthe's attention, hadn't she? People often paid more attention to what you had to say when there was something pretty to look at.
To be made into works of art was the part that stuck with her. The part that could have been something her Mother demanded of her children, if she didn't have other purposes for them. ]
What kind of work?
cw: reference to magical plastic surgery
[Among other things.]
Boobs, ass, getting rid of unwanted fat, reshaping the face to be more pleasing, altering hair color, texture, length. Anything unwanted physically for whatever a person's purpose was.
We're the pretty people, the House of the Shining Dead. A way to disarm people. They say all sorts of things when they forget that there's a vulture or a viper under that pretty face, depending on whether they're a necro or not.
[The Third House was the Empire's information brokers, its spies. Chameleons. Ianthe had always been good at her job - too good. Even if she'd wanted it, she wouldn't have been allowed to become perfect like her sister. She needed to be overlooked back then, to carry the con off. By Third House standards, Ianthe wasn't considered attractive.]
no subject
That sounds like a lot of pressure, I think.
[ Spoken without judgment or pity, because she understood. Perhaps she would have looked very differently now, if Mother had ever permitted (forced) her children to do that. No— they had to be modeled to perfection through their behavior, their health and her rules. ]
Was it something you enjoyed at the time? Performing your duties?
no subject
Sometimes. There was definitely a rush and a sense of accomplishment, but so much of it was just... empty. It was never for me, always for her. It turned me into such a mean bitch.
[Ianthe met her own gaze in the mirror with her stolen eyes.] But it was worth it. Just another price I had to pay. Nothing to shed tears over.
no subject
But so much of it was just... empty. Robin's hands slowed down then, gaze turning dull for a moment. It was, wasn't it? But it didn't seem like it'd made Ianthe hollow. If it had, then Ianthe was an incredible liar, and if she was a liar, they were both in deserving company. ]
I'm glad it was worth it.
[ She continued, standing behind Ianthe now. Looking at her through the mirror. ]
So she was your only sibling.
no subject
Mhmm. Twin sister. No other siblings. My House grav-carries instead of using VAT, and I ruined that for my mother with my birth. Though I suppose since they need a new heir, they'll probably reconsider VAT.
[She paused then, meeting Robin's eyes in the mirror.] I'm a princess.
no subject
Just like Robin was no longer the heiress of a renewed world to be. ]
Princess Ianthe.
[ Trying it on her tongue. It didn't seem like she intended to keep using it, unless Ianthe asked her to. ]
Could you tell me more about those terms you used? 'VAT'.
cw: pregnancy/childbirth discussion
Ugh, just Ianthe is fine. I haven't really been Princess of Ida in two years and it's the least of my titles. I only bother pulling them out if someone slaps their title dick down on the table.
[And they didn't matter. Deathwarden meant more here than anything else.]
VAT is an acronym but I don't remember what it stands for. So, in the Nine Houses, when people procreate, they can either grav-carry - which is in utero on a planetary installation with natural gravity - or make use of a VAT womb. That's a technological incubator that gestates a human embryo.
Ah... VAT is used during non-planterary procreation, so those that have good off to war can continue the family line even if they die, or the rich that literally don't want to grav-carry and go through the birthing process. Most VAT births start as grav-carry into the embryo reaches a certain stage and then they are transferred to the VAT to finish gestation.
no subject
I see. [ Going back to her steady rhythm, ] Are there adoptions?
cw: child soldiers
[There was also that people would end up joining the Ninth House if cast from their own for whatever reason, but Ianthe didn't want to bring that up.]
The Cohort - our military - tends to be where most orphans end up. The Junior Cohort will accept applicants as young as eleven.
cw: child soldiers, indoctrination
The shock wasn't genuine. Robin wasn't an orphan, as far as she was aware, but she'd been taken to another family. And she'd been fighting long before she was that age. If anything, her indoctrination made her inclined to think that those orphaned children were fodder for a cause that'd never be relevant to her, even if the Family had somehow shared the world Ianthe came from.
They probably would've thought the same of the Beckers, unless Mother had found a way to place herself among the families that mattered. ]
I was adopted. All of my siblings were, actually.
no subject
Were you happy with them - your adopted family?
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[Ianthe's brow furrowed for a moment.]
Who ended up being the favorite? The oldest?
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Yes. Ezra. [ A beat. After that, with a trace of longing, ] And I was his.
But we haven't spoken in years.
no subject
What happened?
no subject
Something happened, and he wanted nothing to do with us anymore.
[ Abandoned them. Abandoned her. ]
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That sucks. Maybe reconciliation can happen in the future. If not with the family as a whole but between you and him. Especially if you're his favorite.
no subject
She'd find a way to change that, here. The more people grew attached to her, the more protected she'd feel, and protection meant security. One day she might even become untouchable. ]
... I hope so. [ Empty words. Then, as if someone reminded her to smile, ] We'd have to be in the same place, first.
[ She was done with Ianthe's hair. Her tone was kinder, now that her attention was back on the other woman. ] We should let your hair dry now, unless you want to change something.
no subject
[And then Ianthe could decide if he would go on her No Fuck list.]
I like it long. You can leave it to dry. I just wanted a trim and a little pampering. Hands on my hair is so relaxing. Thank you.
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I will.
[ That same smile grew when Ianthe thanked her. Robin began to put her things away after; she'd style it later, keep talking about other topics if she'd like. Ianthe's company was enjoyable regardless. ]