Exeunt

[medea_players]

As often happened, Loira was in the room dusting while Shelley laid about the bed, absently petting Abdiel who as usual purred contentedly at his mistress's ministrations. Loira thought the little redhead was particularly fond of sulking about whatever Lord Ishamael had done or not done depending on her mood. She could never quite figure the matter

Comments

[shelley_winters]

"The usual thing, Loira. Hating the world."

It is surely driving her mad, trapped here, she thinks sadly. No way out, and fending off the... attentions, if that is the word, of a man who can, and has, tortured her on a whim.

It isn't something that goes away.

[medea_players]

A frown on Loira's face for a moment as she set the vase down. She was always so gloomy... A cheerful comment to Shelley.

"Now, cheer up, Lady Shelley. It is not that bad."

[shelley_winters]

"No, it really is."

But since you won't let yourself ever hear my side of the story, you will never get it, she thinks sourly.

No. The woman has to be careful, working for who she does.

[medea_players]

"Everyone is very fond of you."

Loira did not even have to lie. After all, compared to the lord of the house, the lady was quite the... improvement. One could not deny the presence of Lord Ishamael's... feelings, though they worried Loira. Turning away, Loira placed her hands on her hips and looked for something else to dust.

[shelley_winters]

"I still don't like being here."

And she will never think otherwise. Ever.

Elan's... feelings worry her too, though they always did. He could do anything, and she knows she can't stop him.

Though a very small, very quiet, and viciously ignored part of her does wonder what happens when he gets bored and stops.

[medea_players]

A small sigh from Loira as she frowned and sat on the bed beside Shelley. Smiling faintly, she tickled Abdiel's nose with the duster. The tiny kitten swatted vigorously at the duster with his tiny, but very sharp claws. Even she had to admit the little pervert was cute.

"Shall I make you a cup of tea?"

[shelley_winters]

Shelley sighs. Useless.

Not that she'd really expected Loira to listen this time. Precedent was against it.

"...Yes please. Are there any fruity ones?"

[medea_players]

Loira nodded firmly. Rising from the bed, Loira bobbed her head before quickly leaving. She always tried to be quick about these things.

"Yes, certainly."

The door slid shut behind her.

[shelley_winters]

Shelley sighs and sits up. No good getting dressed if she just lies about on the bed all day. Abdiel pounces into a half-open drawer from the dresser with a mew of triumph. Unable to supress a smile, the girl wanders over to fish him out before he chews up everything in there.

"Silly cat."

His head pokes out to peer up at her, and she scratches affectionately between his ears.

[nights_daughter]

The door slid open. Instead of Loira's cheerful face and plump body, there is a taller, elegant woman with mouse brown hair dressed in the black and red of the servant's livery. A smooth, graceful nod and an accompanying curtsey.

"My lady."

[shelley_winters]

Shelley turns around, and blinks. Odd. Normally no servant she doesn't know comes in here. Which, essentially, means Vashti and Loira and no others.

"...Hello."

She takes a step closer, wondering if the woman was sent with a... no, a message would be given to Loira or sent through the comm system.

[nights_daughter]

The servant reached into the bodice of her dress and removed a small device. Pressing a button, she instead carefully reverse-wove fire and air to form a burst of electricity. No reputable lady would allow digital stock of her more intimate moments, but one never knew with Ishamael. That should take care of any surveillance.

Smiling, the Mask of Mirrors melted away revealing an impossibly beautiful woman with long, raven black tresses with eyes as dark as night. Around the waist of her white dress was a belt of silver stars.

[shelley_winters]

Shelley blinks twice, staring as the image of the servant fades into... A woman she recognises. That face is unforgettable, even without the dress. Lanfear.

She is in deep, deep trouble.

And there is nothing she can do - running won't help, or screaming if she knows anything about the Forsaken. She is very, very white, but doesn't make a sound, wishing she could have stopped her eyes from darting to the door.

[nights_daughter]

With a small smile, Lanfear carefully set down the device. No fingerprints would be left with her soft white leather gloves. She was not quite sure whether to use her more formal name, or the apparent nickname that Mesaana told her. Formal would be best.

"A pleasure to see you again, Lady Selae."

[shelley_winters]

Shelley bites her lip rather harder than necessary. Apparently the false name she had given had spread.

"Lanfear. I'm... sure it is."

Her voice sounds deeply uncertain of that fact. She's going to die.

[nights_daughter]

Producing a small letter, Lanfear walked from in front of Shelley towards the table to set it down. This would suffice for a deception, certainly.

Nothing needed to be said to the little redhead. After all, what could she do?