Solarel once knew a seer - a Terenian, actually. She could say when it was going to rain by the feel of the air on her skin. She knew the approach of storms by the stiffness in her joints. She could call the results of municipal elections based on not liking a politician's smile. It was miraculous each time, being able to predict the future with such effortless confidence. Some days Solarel couldn't even tell if she'd get out of bed.

That made the Imperial schedules all the more mind-bending for her. This document said exactly where everyone was going to be, down to the [i]minute[/i], weeks in advance. It felt unreal, a prophetic vision. Where people would stand. Where people would sit. Somehow she could look at this screen and see the future. She couldn't figure out if that was more or less impressive than the people who had [i]decided [/i]that this would be the future. Did they not realize how impressive this was, how many instincts they were overriding? People weren't going to sit with their friends or vanish into the shadows because they didn't feel social enough, they were going to sit in their assigned places for the assigned duration and no one was going to question any of it.

Her predictions worked on the range of seconds, her plans worked on the scale of individuals. She had, like, impressions of what she was going to do going in but that was about equipment - possibilities she was giving herself, adaptive ways to experience the moment. She'd been kind of confused and intimidated the last time she'd gotten involved with Imperial ceremony, at the co-ordination of it all, but seeing this hidden substructure to it was even more terrifying. The door guy reading out all the titles wasn't just, like, doing that because he was a skald, drunk, and wanted to amp everyone else up? [i]Wild[/i]. 

She feels cold. Just the kind of cold, shivering tiredness that made her want to just layer on furs until she was invisible. Her metabolism isn't working right, her battery charge is misaligned, the clouds aren't cooperating and the heat from the fire isn't soaking in. There's so little here that's for her, that she's good at, and now she needs to figure out how to navigate this world of fabric and smiles and clockwork precision. It's not what she signed up for, can't she just come down sick? The thought is a shiver of relief. All she'd need to do is just physically fall apart and then...

... but Mirror was going to be there, and that was a Reason that prevented her from dissolving into blankets. The effort needed to be made. She could see the shapes of things in the distance - watches and leather, spiraling belts and veils, restraint in time - but she couldn't articulate the thought to the spirits. Her hands weren't smart enough to hold the idea. So she had to go to her fallback. Something she'd worn before, something she knew worked. 

It was as brutally straightforwards as she could get: a skintight bodysuit in a cool grey that complimented her scales, with a vibrant fire-patterned jacket that blazed with heat and light. It was a straightforwards, raw uncomplicated kind of sexy and that was enough to provide the confidence she couldn't get anywhere else. She felt a long way from the glittering ice-planet brain, but this was a way to be she could manage from here.