(no subject)
Who: Azmaria Hendric and The Butcheress
When: after the completion of this
Where: Azmaria's room.
The last thing she could remember was hitting the pillow. There had been a mad dash, and Azmaria remembered pulling Bathory by the wrist; the small girl was scared to look behind; terrified of a vampire or the psychopath, but she just had to get inside... and with Bathory in tow, she managed. The door was locked, a chair pushed in front to keep it from being forced open, and that was that. Azmaria had gone straight to the bed and passed out. The white, glowing wings on her back began to shed, white feathers littered around her until there were no wings left at all. She slept seamlessly for hours, oblivious to anything around her.
The walls were decorated with white glowing crosses. They had no substance but seemed to be made out of light themselves, stretching across each wall, the ceiling and floor. Little silver pegs were stuck in every corner of the room. Other then that, the place was unimpressive; the walls and floor were stone, there was not a lot of furniture (a bed, a dresser, a mirror), and a huge window dominated most of the far wall; it was a modest, tidy room.
It was hours later Azmaria stirred, rubbing her eyes with a tiny girlish squeak. She sat up, obviously still half asleep, but appearing somewhat panicked. She hadn't meant to pass out; she was still worried about Miss Bathory!
"Miss Bathory?" she called, dropping her hands, seeing the woman pacing back and forth across her room. Azmaria gave a small relieved smile; at least she was up and moving, that must mean she felt better. "Miss Bathory, how are you feeling?" she asked, a slight bit of weakness apparent in her voice.
When: after the completion of this
Where: Azmaria's room.
The last thing she could remember was hitting the pillow. There had been a mad dash, and Azmaria remembered pulling Bathory by the wrist; the small girl was scared to look behind; terrified of a vampire or the psychopath, but she just had to get inside... and with Bathory in tow, she managed. The door was locked, a chair pushed in front to keep it from being forced open, and that was that. Azmaria had gone straight to the bed and passed out. The white, glowing wings on her back began to shed, white feathers littered around her until there were no wings left at all. She slept seamlessly for hours, oblivious to anything around her.
The walls were decorated with white glowing crosses. They had no substance but seemed to be made out of light themselves, stretching across each wall, the ceiling and floor. Little silver pegs were stuck in every corner of the room. Other then that, the place was unimpressive; the walls and floor were stone, there was not a lot of furniture (a bed, a dresser, a mirror), and a huge window dominated most of the far wall; it was a modest, tidy room.
It was hours later Azmaria stirred, rubbing her eyes with a tiny girlish squeak. She sat up, obviously still half asleep, but appearing somewhat panicked. She hadn't meant to pass out; she was still worried about Miss Bathory!
"Miss Bathory?" she called, dropping her hands, seeing the woman pacing back and forth across her room. Azmaria gave a small relieved smile; at least she was up and moving, that must mean she felt better. "Miss Bathory, how are you feeling?" she asked, a slight bit of weakness apparent in her voice.