She doesn’t live in the real world — she monitors it remotely, from her Dragonland.
A place where everything means something,
preferably more than necessary.
In Dragonland, moods come in cinematic scale,
details are overread, silences reinterpreted,
and exits rehearsed for maximum impact.
She’s not hiding — she’s curating.
From the outside, it might look like withdrawal.
From the inside, it’s precision work:
reading the subtext, archiving the missteps,
and designing her next great non-response.
Dragonland isn’t a fantasy.
It’s logistics with better lighting.