[Such a wondrous and inexplicable sight laid before her, a tapestry more grand than any mortal eyes should rightly see.

Dorothea doesn’t know how long she’s been swept away in this terrifying and beautiful cosmos, but eventually she finds herself drifting closer and closer to the awaiting emptiness of the void. It beckons to her as memories of years spent at war whisper ceaselessly in the back of her mind, no matter how hard she wishes to forget. Something about it feels almost poetic—the kind heart of the diva slowly but surely worn threadbare by the unavoidable tendrils of violence, until it can do nothing but buckle under the weight of it and succumb to nothingness.

Such a tragic opera it would make.

She’s so caught up in it that she doesn’t notice you until you’re practically right there beside her. Before she can even really think about it, she flinches and shoves at you with a mixture of suspicion and contempt marring her beautiful features. A familiar feeling, one etched into her as a struggling child that never truly went away, even as life seemed to brighten for her. Rooting out the darkness in one’s heart was a hard thing indeed.]

[The comfort of the warmth surrounding Dorothea proves to be a meager shield against the slow rise of unease that accompanies her returning senses. She pushes against the all-encompassing embrace tentatively at first, but the resistance serves to only stoke the embers of that unease into full-blown panic. It feels like it takes a small eternity for her to break free.

By the time she finally crawls out to the cool, open air, her heart is pounding heavily in her chest and her limbs are shaking traitorously beneath her. After she takes a few lung fulls of shaky breaths, it finally hits her that she is crouched there on all fours, completely naked. She sits bolt-upright, arms hurriedly attempting to cover herself up as she glances about in search of anyone who might be nearby. Blessedly, the peculiar surroundings seem devoid of others for the moment, but the thought of wandering around here naked is not an eager one.

A handful of feet away sits a large crystaline boulder that immediately seizes her attention. She grabs a broken piece of the chrysalis she’s just crawled out of—meager defense is better than none at all—then scrambles to crouch behind it where she can mostly keep herself hidden from view from the cavern at large.

Her nerves are rattled enough that the moment she glimpses movement, she throws the glass-like shard in her hand at it without much thought.]

I’m not decent! So just… stay back! [The briefest of pauses as she feels her cheeks reddening, then she adds:] Please.

[Dorothea could think of worse places to end up after such a tiresome and eventful day than this. Clothed and secure and surrounded by such a wondrous sight, she would be hard-pressed not to finally let her guard down a little. And frankly, she’s thankful for that; being on edge for so long is far too tiring.

By now she has shaken enough of her apprehension to dare to venture around the area a bit to take in the sights of the ruins more fully. A blanket is draped over her shoulders, less of a fashion statement and more of an extra layer of comfort, judging by the way she pulls it tightly against herself with both hands.

She drifts along the shimmering shores mostly without aim until her path draws her close to someone seated on the sands. Judging from either their expression or their garb, Dorothea pegs them as a fellow newcomer, which puts her at ease enough to get her to approach. She’ll settle down beside them with a quick flash of a smile before turning her gaze upwards toward the watery ceiling above them.]

It’s beautiful. Like something out of a fairy tale, isn’t it?

[Dorothea had been glad for the opportunity to get some space and rest for a time after all she’s endured since waking here, but before long some of her earlier unease begins to return. Not so much from current circumstances, but rather the lingering question of what the future would hold for her now. As beautiful and ethereal as this place is, it’s clear to see that this is only something of a waystop.

She seeks out someone who looks like they know what they’re doing here—anyone who doesn’t look like a lost puppy draped in the simple clothing she and her fellow new arrivals wore—and strides toward them with as much confidence as she can muster. She tentatively reaches a hand out to their arm to get their attention.]

Excuse me. [A quick flash of a smile—seemingly genuine, if brief—before she continues, words direct yet cheery.] Hi there. I was just wondering… what comes next, here?

[Feel free to throw anything my way, or shoot me a DM if you’d like to plot something out beforehand. For those canon-familiar: I’m playing Dorothea from mid-late Crimson Flower route, so she’s post-timeskip!]