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[ph] gala entrance post
Sep. 21st, 2025 02:25 pmLaura Roslin breezes into the room, perfectly confident in her tailored suit rather than a ball gown, and accepts a glass of some delightfully fizzy concoction. Drink in hand but untasted, she glances around to get her bearings.
She knows what the prophecy says, knows that by now everyone who's aware of her visions thinks that she's the one who's supposed to "know the truth of the Opera House," but it's never looked anything like this. If the truth of it all is a gala celebration beyond the rules of time and space, how is she supposed to interpret that?
(Maybe it's just the chamalla and it doesn't mean anything more than that this time. Maybe.)
"On with the show," she murmurs to herself, and straightens her shoulders. She can't afford to look weak, not even now. Especially not now. She'll be handing her duties over to Lee Adama soon enough, but at present she's still the President of the Colonies, and it's up to her to make that mean something for as long as she holds the office.
She knows what the prophecy says, knows that by now everyone who's aware of her visions thinks that she's the one who's supposed to "know the truth of the Opera House," but it's never looked anything like this. If the truth of it all is a gala celebration beyond the rules of time and space, how is she supposed to interpret that?
(Maybe it's just the chamalla and it doesn't mean anything more than that this time. Maybe.)
"On with the show," she murmurs to herself, and straightens her shoulders. She can't afford to look weak, not even now. Especially not now. She'll be handing her duties over to Lee Adama soon enough, but at present she's still the President of the Colonies, and it's up to her to make that mean something for as long as she holds the office.
