in a world where you can do anything: love
the honeysuckle princess
It was hot. Unbearably hot really. Sweat rolled down her forehead as the Madame gazed into the fireplace of her personal apartment. She was wrapped in heavy blankets, the windows flung open to let the Torchline heat in. Branbast and Pim had abandoned her in search of cooleer places. But Phoebe remained, honeyed gaze vacant but fixated on the dancing flames.Within them were little ballerinas, spinning around, jumping in time with the crackle of of the wood. How fun that would be - dancing upon the logs in a fire red tutu! Spinning, spinning, spinning...oh the whole room was spinning. She hummed low, rocking slightly in the general direction of the spinning room. Eyelids fell halfway and her mouth opened and closed with a dry 'pop' noise. Was she thirsty? She definitely didn't want water...
The crackle of the fire gripped her attention again as she stared at it.
PHOEBE
