The woman was taken back by the reaction her question caused. It was not just Weaver but the Chef as well. She paused, the golden locks spilling away from her delicate features and for a moment Vivian found herself enamored by the inner working of the clocks, as if the woman was left to watch the world tick away as she danced to it's rhythm. The timepiece was hidden away as she decompressed, her gaze darted to Weaver just in time to catch the look on his face change to a smile as if he was tucking some secret away and wished to distract her. She found herself wondering too much what she could think of this living aberration of color.<br/><br/>The man seemed willing to accept what she offered and before she could be aware his hands had clapped and she had slipped away into a living dream.<br/><br/>The shadows crashed on her, a warm bubble that held her afloat. Colors swirled to life, wrapping around her and splattering against a wall. Weaver's voice was a lullaby as he painted the scene.  The ocean, the world beyond her bubble, Williams world. She was enchanted, no longer in herself but in this moment. It seemed to be the story of how Weaver found himself in the company of the man. The moment switched suddenly, it seemed to grow darker. She was leaning into it, watching the young man walk into the house. She felt heart press into her throat, her gaze stuck on the window trying once more to understand what she had seen there. Was it curiosity or fear, wonderment as to what had happened, why it happened. The moment drew to a close, unwrapping her from it's warm embrace and leaving her almost longing for the sensation.<br/><br/>Her mind stayed there, watching William step in, the sounds, the creature in the window seeming to peer back. She shivered, realizing she was cold as she looked upon the artist of the scene. He was smiling, making a comment on her getting dressed. She nodded her head but she didn't feel all there, like a daze. "Right of course," she rose to her feet but even then it didn't feel like she was on the ground.<br/><br/>She would carefully take the dress, certainly to the chefs dislike, she had lost her appetite now that her mind was so full. "I'll go try it on now," she informed before turning to the woman. "It was good, I will come back," she informed before moving to leave the pair behind.<br/><br/>Vivian stepped out into the hallway, she had only made it a few feet when she had to stop and look behind her as a shiver ran up her spine. She had felt like someone had passed her but her green gaze could find no one in the vicinity. She stood there for a moment staring at the empty air, she could have sworn- her mind had to be getting away from her. She was still working off the fumes of Weavers potion, she had yet to fully leave the moment it seemed.<br/><br/>She hurried to her room wanting to leave the feeling behind. After producing the key she slipped into her room. The dress was dropped onto her white bedding and she fell next to it with a sigh. Her gaze was upon the ceiling but her mind was somewhere else.<br/><br/>William. The story did not help her understand her master any more, if any less. Left her wondering if she truly did wish to see the real world. Vivian had always lived in a bubble, she could not remember the time before the home she had been in as a child. She did not recall parents ' childhood, just the repetitive movements of the day, the grounds of the estate. The sky there was always dull, the grass always trimmed and untrampled. There had been a large stone courtyard where,like animals for showing, they would go, always feeling eyes on them.<br/><br/><i>It was quite in the carriage, the only sound was the trot of the horses and the creek of the wheels. She had wanted to look out but had been afraid of her Master then. She was young and he was a stranger, she feared what might come or perhaps returning her to the home. It was dark in the carriage, she kept catching sparks of sunlight through the curtain.  Her small hand reached out to catch one of the beams, entranced by the way it lit up.</i><br/><br/><i>"Did you have a name?" Her master had spoken; it was the first time he had spoken to her and she was left tense and uncertain and how to answer.</i><br/><br/><i>"It is up to the master to name us," each child in the house a blank slate to be molded as others saw fit.</i><br/><br/>Vivian closed her eyes trying to recall every detail of her master when he was younger.<br/><br/><i>It felt like his blue eyes were sizing her up. His hand, aged but firm, took her chin. "Vivian." It was the first time she had heard her name but the memory was twisting in on itself, her master was becoming younger, it was William holding her chin. In the moment then, her master had told her there was no reason to look out and that was that but now in this vivid moment it had shifted. "Go ahead and look out," the curtains were pulled back and what felt like a thousand eyes were looking back at her.</i><br/><br/>Vivian eyes snapped open and she sat straight with a gasp, her hand pressed to her chest. She stared at the forest she painted on her wall but there was no hiding in this flat dimision. She tried to shake the thought from her head as she began to undo her dress.<br/><br/>The dress Mr. Weaver had produced fit perfectly, it was easy to slip on and she found that she did not have to have help to get into this dress like she did many. She would stand in front of the mirror on her dresser and peer at herself, her hand running along the silk fabric. She still felt anxious. Her gaze lowered to the silver hairbrush she had collected from her master's bedroom and placed here for safe keeping. Her hand stroked the cool metal as her mind continued to wander.<br/><br/>What was it really like, outside the gates? Was the world as cruel as it had been portrayed to her this last day.<br/><br/>Now dressed she did what little she could with her hair, she only slightly regretted cutting it off for now she felt like she looked a bit like a torch with her blazing red hair.  Satisfied, she left her room and began to make her way downstairs. At first she considered going to the kitchen but as she stood in the entryway she couldn't stop thinking of William. Like she with her previous master, she would find she knew which way to go to find him. She stepped through a doorway, simply knowing he was there. "William," she was already speaking, her words rushing ahead of her. "Can I talk to you."