[center][h2][color=violet] Elizabeth Reinholt [/color][/h2][/center]

[color=violet]violet = speaking[/color]

[color=lightcoral]lightcoral = thinking/mental communication with servant[/color]

[hr]

Throughout the rental home that the magus had acquired as a base for this venture, the sound of crispy, sizzling bacon cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. It was to signal that it indeed was the morning...and that "mother" was indeed making breakfast for herself and Assassin, quite a nice yet simple one at that. A white apron tied about her that she had bought at a local store, she was turning over pieces of bacon, checking the provided waffle maker that had come with the home to make sure the sweet (but not overly sweet) chocolate-chip laden waffles were cooking just fine and not burning. As she finished each bit of the simple American breakfast fare, she placed them on a large waiting plate to the side, where it could sit until she would dish them out for her and her little girl. Nearby, and importantly, sat a hot bottle of maple syrup, ready to pour on the sweet and indulgent goodness that was this trademark breakfast condiment of choice. 

And at least she could cook simpler things like this without any issue, doing very well at cooking this fare in fact where she lacked the motherly skills for cooking more complex things. Still, a part of her wished that she could make some fried chicken to go with these waffles, just like a dish or two she had eaten in the past. Ah. But still, she was doing nothing but her best for the little adorable murderer that was her servant. She had noted she would reward Jack for stopping that Saber from attacking her and such last night, and if Jack wanted that last amount of burger she had not finished last night was safely wrapped up in the fridge.

Yet in part....well, doing all of this with a happy face covered up the horrors she had seen last night in her dreams. Actually...to call it her dreams was a lie, more like she was seeing Jack's memories of the past in vivid, first-person detail. The grey murk and mire of the smog and cold mists of London, how the very landscape itself and the people seemed warped into demons and giant, featureless monsters and the suffocating sensation of living in this mess. And then, well, the magus understood that normal humans had a convention of sorts to celebrate Jack the Ripper. Yet to see and experience her work firsthand, to feel that knife and see the blood, and feel the desperation and compulsion to return to that space where it was warm and safe.....it both struck a chord of empathy towards the child serial killer and sent a severe cold chill up her back like none other sensation ever had in her life before. Perhaps it was something she needed to expect to have seen if Jack's life if anything, and yet at the same time it was a shock that no human of this current time would perhaps understand without having perceived it for themselves as she had. 

Even so...

[@Raineh Daze]