Damsel in Distress

No… Earthlings? No… Asians, Europeans, Africans? Lily’s always been a skeptic, finding little comfort in organized religion, and certainly very little faith (re: none whatsoever) in a deity that could allow her family to fall on such hard times that they had to sell their daughter. No, believing in one’s self and one’s ability over divine intervention is one thing, but entertaining the possibility to other worlds is just… well, it’s like a punch to the ovaries. And white folk are so entitled and Eurocentric in Lily’s home time and world that even the great philosophers have yet to wax poetic on the possibility of other dimensions. She is still at the proverbial top of the food chain, right below a white man. Here? Here, she doesn’t know where she stands, what the rules are (not that the rules have ever truly stopped her, but that’s not the point)... if MAGIC is possible, OTHER WORLDS are possible… and… and… Lily just shakes her head in amazement, allowing the words and their meaning to glide over her head for now. She’ll pick them apart later, have a breakdown and then come to terms with it all when she’s alone. Falling apart now is not an option. She’s a goddamn survivor, not a damsel in distress! Bastien is rambling on, courteously leading her along, so she tunes back in, but at the announcement of a church and religion, her stomach turns a little. Yes, she’s only just got there! While it’s kind of him to offer her a place to stay (and she will gladly take him up on that), the redhead cannot help but find it a little distasteful that he’s already trying to bring her in. He’s like a Baptist, she supposes. Or one of those diehard missionaries crying in the city square - minus the hellfire and brimstone and sins bits. Nevertheless, she puts on a weak smile and is prepared to blame it on the cold, clutching again at his shawl. “I’m not really the religious... sort… but I would be happy to hear more of it.” It’s only polite. A warm place to stay for the price of a conversation - hell, she’s done far worse.   lily as if you were on fire from within the moon lives in the lining of your skin