...agaaaaaain ( Read more... )

It's never a good sign when the morning starts with a slightly concerned, "Oh dear," from Jaenelle's study.

Nor is it a good morning when one is wandering through the Mansion when said "oh dear" takes effect, quite suddenly and randomly, creating rapid and alarming transformations. Jaenelle herself is looking sheepishly unicornish somewhere, ( Read more... )

Melisande is bored. Bored Melisandes are rarely a good thing ( Read more... )

Typist: JOSCELIN AND IMRIEL'S POSITION ARE PRE-DF CANNON  AND DO NOT CONSTITUTE A SPOILER FROM THE IMRIEL CYCLE.  Blame the typist for wanting to bring the puppet in a little differently.

My name is Phèdre nò Delaunay, Comtesse de Montrève. Some may know me as Delaunay’s Anguissette, Kushiel’s Chosen, Death’s Whore, or the Queen’s Confident, but ( Read more... )

"Ha! You ill-begotten, unworthy wretch!  You did not kill me!  Nothing can kill Master Steerpike, nothing!" He claims, repeats, singing and dancing madly as he flails in the darkening, rainy night.  Until... In a surprising deft movement he turns and stares at an uncanny source of light, a beacon in the night, and he suddenly realized he is no ( Read more... )

Melisande, looking supremely relaxed and thoroughly pleased, lounges in a chair on the first floor, sipping red wine, her hair loose over her pale shoulders and blue eyes half-lidded, looking for all the world like a panther that has just fed. She tilts her head back and laughs a bit, then stands with utmost grace and moves over to a window, ( Read more... )

He approaches the mansion at a run, and is nearly there before realizing that this is not the guesthouse he was intending to approach. He stumbles to a halt, shaken, almost shaking, eyes wide with disbelief and a little horror. He glances back over his shoulder, but no Abbey presents itself. He slowly knees, pressing the palms of his hands flat ( Read more... )

*Hedda's bored. And everyone knows what things get like when that happens. So, if you hear gunshots out by the lake, don't worry too much - it's just Hedda finding some outlet for the pent up coil of aggression that being trapped in the Mansion tends to build up inside her eventually. She's not shooting at anyone ( Read more... )

She hasn't been around for a while, but mostly because she's been keeping to her rooms. However, she reemerges now, gliding through the hallways with the air of a queen and looking around herself with subdued curiosity. Staying inside was all very well during winter, but now that the weather is warming, she has a hankering to go outdoors. She ( Read more... )

Melisande is spending the afternoon downstairs, as her rooms have become rather cold and she hasn't gotten around to figuring out how to light the gas fireplace yet. Wearing sumptuous red velvet and sipping a glass of rich, red wine, she twirls the stem in her fingers and examines the fireplace, lips curved in a slight smile of amusement. Her ( Read more... )