<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/c4/a2/eb/c4a2eb3622a5fd5f4149b8e094a22fa3.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Danae Vine-Lott (https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/13428552/mqOlTT)<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Asylum - Rehner’s study<br/><strong>Wearing: </strong>Asylum clothing<br/><strong>Content: </strong>Charmed<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Margaret, Dr Rehner<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Wisdom saving throw</div><div class="spoiler_body">At 2020-03-18 19:16:09, MdG (uid: 41210) rolls: 1d20a1 Result: 9 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=145479)</div></div><br/>There was an abyss in Rehner's eyes.  To be drawn into them was to tumble down the rabbit hole, and see only the light of their pupils glinting in a sea of infinite, warm black.  There was a manner about her that was all of a sudden reassuring.  It was, perhaps, like finding a long lost friend, one to whom she could share her confidence.<br/><br/>"We need to find the survivors of the<em>Charlotte</em>and leave.  This is not the place for them."  She paused, and saw Margaret, once nervous, was also seemingly at ease.  "I am responsible for them now.  When I firs boarded the<em>Charlotte</em>I sought to free my mind from certain<em>afflictions</em>I suppose the alienist called them.  I did not anticipate we would be caught in a storm, nor that we would be rescued by the<em>Mercy</em>and brought to this place.  Though it is no small boon to find a place of civilisation on this island, we cannot stay for long. And all inquiries we make of its true nature are met with further questions."<br/><br/>Danae leaned forward on Rehner's desk, and felt, absurdly, she had known the woman her whole life.  She would speak with her more liberally than she would have with her own wife.  "This place reeks of madness.  But then again I do not know if I, too, have become mad, and this is all some laudanum-induced nightmare." She peered over the French polished desk, fixing Rehner, wanting to be believed.<br/><br/>She saw the scene vivid and fresh in her mind<em>Polly is sprawled out on the guestroom bed, wild fiery ringlets soaked with sweat, her back and her enormous arse freckled, culottes around her ankles, sighing and still trembling, and Danae sees the pink mole on freckle-sprayed scapula between damp ginger curls and her blood goes from molten iron to ice</em>.<br/><br/>"She had the mark, you see," Danae hissed, "the Craft is everywhere, and we blind ourselves to the truth, saying this is an age of reason."