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Sigil
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Romero
canaryrose
Nallore
Warrior in the Shadows
Kuro
Veilsight
Almack's, London
Elizaveta looked over to Constantin and gave him a look of disdain. The man always seemed to have some sort of comment to make. This was a serious time, if she saw death it was more than just basic slaughter. It took what breeding was in her not to roll her eyes at his comment. "And even more when the trained overestimate their skill," she said as she stood there and laced her hands before her. Giving him a slight look and raising the corner of her lips into a smirk.
Though at Virginia's mention of Millicent it faded and she looked over to the pale woman. "I do not think she is gone, not from vhat I have seen. I have not seen death, I have seen pain," she admitted. She had seen in other's eyes Miss Wyndham and she had seen great pain. She feared that what Millicent had in her future was far worse than death. Yet she did not want to say more on the subject just then. There was much to do and she was already drained from the days events, she still had work to do this evening.
Turning her head she looked away and caught how the one man was looking at Virginia and how stoic he remained. "Use vords, not glares to communicate. You vill go further," she stated towards Thalken before looking to Mary and nodding. She understood the significance of the weapon being left behind as her new friend left. Reaching down once Mary left she wrapped her fingers around it and hefted it up. Resting it on its pole end and holding it straight. She would watch over it for now and hope that it was not needed for use other than for a deep meaning.
As Vlad spoke to her, her lips pursed. "It vas broken. Dark. There vas blood. There vas something, Soulless, I do not knov. I fear ve may all lose something dear before this year draws to a close," she said quietly. "I fear someone has already at this time."
Port Annan, Scotland - Teriny Inn
Calum found laying on the couch and closing his eyes was a far safer use of his time than anything that required movement. He wished to study his bible some, to find some answers in it perhaps but at this point he was half afraid that if he turned a page he would give himself such a paper cut that he would bleed to death before the morning dawned. It was best to just say his prayers and close his eyes and hope that things would be better come the morning. Thing like being able to walk without falling over a table. That would be a most welcome thing indeed.
He would have normally taken to his knees but the act of just getting onto the couch had been a miracle in and of itself. The parson was not about to push his luck be getting onto the floor and then attempting to get back into bed. He would most definitely die. Closing his eyes, he spoke to god. Repenting his sins, such as his gluttony for the pastries, and then there was Maeve. Oh he should not be turned over like this because of her. Yet there it was and he tried to repent for it though he wondered just how well that went over with the Lord God since he knew he would not stop thinking of how pretty she was.
"Oh fuddle..." he muttered before repenting for his curses of fuddles through out the day.
Wyndham Manor, London
Cook slowly walked into the room and glanced around as Gerard tried to tidy up as best he could. "She will not speak Mr. Connolly. She just sits there in the bath water as it grows cold. Unmoving. Oh poor Miss Milli, how could someone?" she said as she collapsed onto the couch and brought her fist up to her teeth. Biting down slightly as it became more and more clear to her what Millicent had suffered that evening.
Slamming her fist down onto the arm of the couch she shook her head. "Whoever did this should be tar and feathered and drawn and quartered," she said in a shaky voice.
After that she just went silent, thinking on the expression on Millicent's face when she went to check on her. The girl just sat there, like stone. Not even a ripple ran across the waters surface. It was still, like death. The light that had once been in Millicents bright dark eyes was gone and nothing but a bit of abyss remained. Cook had only seen some of the bruising but it was nothing compared to the look of nothingness in Millicents eyes.
Abigail came barreling into the house, the door closing hard behind her and calling out for Cook. "In here lass," she said as she stood up, drying her eyes. "Have you got it?" she asked solemnly.
"Yes yes Cook, I be gottin' it. Just gonna bes brewing up a tea fors it I will," Abigail said quickly, half out of breath.
"Make sure to be careful with the amount. You wish to prevent any quickening, not lay our Miss out on a slab in the family mausoleum," Cook warned.
"I's know, I's know," Abigail assured her.
"Are you sure this is what Miss Milli wants? I suspect it is, one such as her would not wish to raise a child of forced notions..." Cook said as she started to tear up again.
"I's don't knows rightly, shes won't speak. Has she spoke yet?" Abigail asked.
"No..."
Abigail nodded and ran off to the kitchen as Cook sat back down and shook her head. "Poor little one... Such a frightful night..."
