Forsythe
RPM
Achronum
kittyluna45
Scrawl Banditta
Not a Sayan
KazAlkemi
Neziul
Location: Crypt Townhouse Near the Strand, London
Virginia's mother had adored nightmares. Before Freud had begun his exhaustion of the psychoanalysis of dreams, Lady Dywell would ask her children about what phantoms visited them whilst they slept. Dreams were a horrid occurrence--but night terrors? Why, they were entirely welcome. Her father agreed with his wife wholeheartedly, with Alfred, ever present, smiling grimly at the conversation.
Poison us, strangle us, break our bones: we will come back for more! Those were her mother's words, the parting pieces of wisdom that caused Virginia to welcome every misfortune, to relish in the dark and fear the touch of the light. But not all nightmares were pleasant. No, Virginia could not enjoy the sounds of her brother's screams, his desperate pleading. This was not a mere murder attempt--this was destruction. Homicides are all in good fun and good manner, but Cargast was another matter entirely. Virginia would willingly walk into the night and bathe in the forces of destruction.
But her brother? No. Such a fate was not meant for him. Dear James, whilst he may be called the Viscount, was nothing more than a boy, his head filled with fantasies of arson and betrayal. Death must stop for him and wait; and so it should, as he was a Crypt. The news of her parents, lost at sea as they claimed, did not frighten Virginia or send her into despair. They would return one day, once they were ready. Who would she be to prevent their enjoyment of immense suffering?
Yet it could not be that simple. By the peculiar laws of the land, James would be forced to assume the earldom, if her parents did not return within the year. Domesticity and normality, Virginia feared, would crush her brother's spirits. It was perhaps more horrendous than that phantom of a dream, of a terror that did not know its place. She utilized her talents, her training, in order to spy upon her brother. He had already arisen, trapping a spider within a glass jar. Virginia had smiled slightly, spotting a vile in his hand.
His experimental phase would compliment his pyrotechnic proclivities, she was certain.
Dressed in pale lilac, her gloves upon her fingers, Virginia left the sanctity of her room, moving down the stairs of the townhouse, her feet bare. The chill of the floor caused her discomfort, but she minded it not. At the bottom of the staircase, Alfred stood ready, three cups of tea waiting on his tray--one for her, another for James, and one for himself. Virginia insisted upon him joining them for meals.
"What flavor am I enjoying today?" Virginia asked, sniffing at the cup. Almonds. She smiled a bit, before drinking it all the same. "Cyanide, dear Alfred? If you were to make an attempt on my life, I am wounded. This is not nearly extravagant enough."
Alfred shook his head, chuckling slightly. "No, my lady. Roasted almond tea. There are some gentlemen who desire an audience with you. They require more funds for their research."
Virginia nodded. She cared not whom they were--it was a matter of duty for her to meet with them. And besides, the Crypts had continued their fortune through investments. They were a selective group that received funding from the Crypts, and in general, reflected the interest of the current house head. Virginia fiddled with the opal ring on her finger, always owned by the Crypt house head. It would soon belong to James, if her parents failed to return. She led the home as reagent.
"I shall see to them. Alfred, dear, if you would be so kind as to ensure James is ready for the day? The arachnids can have their torment spared for another moment. I wonder whether it it perhaps time we speak to him about performing the tests so as to begin his training...He has nearly attained the proper age."
