[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/yc4QQo5.png[/img][/center]

[color=#758173]Time:[/color] Morning Sola 28th
[color=#758173]Location:[/color] Her room—>Art Gallery 
[color=#758173]Attire:[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/a/Nw0imNj]Dress[/url]
[color=#758173]Interaction:[/color] Rohit [@Helo] & Milo [@PapaOso]
[color=#758173]Mentions:[/color] Munir, Alexander [@FunnyGuy]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/BCGMDwO.png[/img][/center]

Mina groaned as the faint whispers of the spirits pulled her from sleep, their voices a chaotic mix of scolding and disapproval. She blinked against the early morning light filtering into her room, burying her face in the pillow as if that could silence them. [color=#758173]"What now?"[/color] she muttered, her tone groggy and laced with irritation.  

[color=pink]"[i]Stupid girl! Reckless, foolish girl![/i]"[/color] the voices hissed, sharp and scornful. Mina rolled onto her back, glaring at the ceiling as though the spirits could see her exasperation. [color=#758173]"Save the theatrics,"[/color] she said flatly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. [color=#758173]"I’m too tired for your cryptic antics this morning."[/color]  

But the spirits continued, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of displeasure. [color=pink]"[I]You had no right! Flirting with [/I]him[I]! Letting him feed from you! Continuing to interact with him after! Do you even care what you’re doing?[/i]"[/color]  

At that, Mina let out a low laugh, propping herself up on one elbow. [color=#758173]"So that’s what this is about? Alexander? This all started days ago and you choose [I]now[/I] to scold me?! Good lord."[/color] She shook her head, her amusement clear. [color=#758173]"You really think I’ve gone soft? That I’m falling for him? Swooning over his charm?"[/color] Her laugh grew louder, almost mocking. [color=#758173]"Oh, that’s rich. I must be better at my tricks than I thought."[/color]  

She stretched lazily before rolling back over in the bed. [color=#758173]"Alexander is a means to an end. Nothing more."[/color] Her voice was steady, cool, and certain. [color=#758173]"If I have to let him bite me, pretend to swoon, and let him think he’s got the upper hand for a while, so be it. It’s all part of the game."[/color] She glanced over her shoulder, addressing the spirits directly. [color=#758173]"He’s trying to use me, too. I’m not blind to that. But if playing this game gets me the access and the knowledge I need? Then it’s worth every second."[/color]  

Mina smirked, running a hand through her hair before shrugging nonchalantly. [color=#758173]"Now, if you’re done with the morning lecture, I’d like to go back to sleep. Surely there’s something more pressing for you to haunt rather than bother me, right?"[/color] The spirits hissed faintly in reply, but their presence began to fade, leaving Mina alone with her thoughts.

She yawned before grabbing the covers, pulling them up to her chin as she closed her eyes. The voices of the spirits had finally begun to fade, their hissing and chiding whispers dissipating into the stillness of the room.  

Almost.  

A chill pricked at Mina’s senses, and her eyes snapped open. She felt it before she saw her–felt the familiar weight of guilt settle heavily in her chest. Slowly, her gaze shifted to the corner of the room, where the faint, shimmering form of a woman stood.  

The Sultana. Munir’s mother.  

She held a baby in her arms, cradling him close. Her expression was sorrowful, her eyes watching Mina with a quiet intensity that pierced straight through her. The Sultana hadn't spoken, she didn’t need to.  

Mina sat up slightly, gripping the edge of her blanket as the familiar wave of guilt washed over her. It clung to her like a shadow, growing heavier with each passing second. She knew what the Sultana wanted, what her presence meant.  

[color=#758173]"I know,"[/color] Mina said softly, her voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. She looked away, unable to meet the woman’s sad gaze. [color=#758173]"You don’t have to remind me."[/color]  

The Sultana didn’t move, didn’t speak. She simply stood there, holding her child with a mournful tenderness, her eyes fixed on Mina as though begging her to understand the weight of her actions.  

Mina clenched her jaw, shutting her eyes tightly. [color=#758173]"I did what I had to do…to protect him,"[/color] she whispered, her voice barely audible. But the words felt hollow even as she said them.  

When she opened her eyes again, the Sultana was still there, unmoving, unwavering. Mina swallowed hard and laid back down, turning on her side to face away from the lingering specter.  

The air felt heavier than before, but Mina forced herself to close her eyes, letting exhaustion creep back over her. The Sultana’s presence didn’t fade, not entirely. She lingered in the corner, silent and still, her sorrowful gaze burning into Mina’s back as the young woman drifted into a restless sleep.

[hr]

Mina stepped into the Sorian Gallery of Fine Arts, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. The warm glow of chandeliers above her cast light that seemed to dance along the art-covered walls, illuminating masterpieces that demanded attention. She wasn’t in a rush to be seen. Her posture was confident, as always, but there was a slight heaviness to her steps, a faint shadow in her eyes. 

She had chosen an ensemble that bordered on avant-garde: a black gown with a fitted bodice and sweetheart neckline, with long bell sleeves and a full skirt. A black choker necklace with a large reddish brown gem adorned her neck, and her ginger hair fell in loose curls. Atop her head sat a large black hat decorated with dark red roses. Her attire was dramatic yet elegant, an extension of the enigma she so often projected. But beneath it all, she felt unmoored.  

The lingering image of Munir’s mother haunted her as she wandered through the gallery, her eyes tracing the soft curves of sculptures and the bold brushstrokes of paintings. Art, usually her solace, only heightened her inner turmoil tonight. She paused before a large painting from Milo’s [I]Reflections of Reverie[/I] collection. The piece was haunting, reminding her of a darkened forest where shards of light broke through the canopy above, casting fractured shadows that seemed to shift and move under her gaze. Chaos and tranquility indeed. 

Her fingers instinctively reached out to the air between her and the canvas, as though she could physically grasp the meaning within. And then, that familiar chill slid down her spine. She froze.  

[color=pink]“Mina…”[/color] The whisper echoed in her ears, soft and mournful. It wasn’t like the cacophony of the other spirits; no, this one was distinct. She closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe, but the voice persisted.  

[color=pink]“Mina.”[/color]

The whisper grew more insistent, tugging at her resolve. She stepped back, her heel catching on the smooth marble floor. Her body pitched to the side, unsteady, and before she could catch herself, colliding into the solid frame of another guest. Her hands shot out instinctively to grab hold of something, anything, but it was too late. She was falling.  

Her heart leaped into her throat as she twisted mid-air, her eyes catching the faces of two men just as she went down between them. Bracing herself for the inevitable impact with the cold, unforgiving floor, she closed her eyes, silently cursing whatever ghost had brought her to this point.