[Giuliana] Time Flies... (Jan 9, 2010)
The Mekhet awakens in the darkness of her suite at Le Dessin Manoir, stretching limbs stiffened by the stillness of daysleep, and rolling over on her side to reach out and lift the small device off of her nightstand and unplug it from it's power source. Tapping a few simulated buttons on the smooth screen, she quickly accesses her email, going down this list of unopened messages. A few replies to condolences are sent out, a few messages from sources are scanned for intel, and then the next subject line catches her eye and makes her pause: A Message to Godaric the Punk
Arching a brow, she opens it. Within the first couple sentences, the petite Mekhet is on her knees in a twisting roll, moving faster than the human eye can see, and she hurls the phone across the room, shattering it into dozens of pieces. She freezes, kneeling in a pile of fine linen, her eyes fixed on the remains of the iPhone as she struggles to regain control and calm down.
Jonah Desoto is a dead man. I don't care if he really had a hand in killing Bennet or not... Jaw muscles clench, and then relax again, and she drops back into a sitting position, her hands burying themselves in the sheets and twisting tightly.
Her head tilts to one side as she picks up the faint sound of rapid steps in the hallway, the door to her suite opening, and the steps come towards her bedroom door. Vitae floods her muscles, instinct taking over as she prepares herself for flight and goes dead still, concealing herself from the sight of whomever is about to enter.
The door bursts open and Victor strides in, confusion crossing his face as he looks around and sees an empty room, his eyes fixing on the shattered phone, "Gia, love..." His pupils dilate, and he looks directly at her, "Well, I..." deciding not to comment on her bare flesh, "What's wrong, and why did you break your phone?"
Giuliana exhales forcibly and slides to the edge of the bed, walking across the room towards her closet, "Check your email. I'm certain you'll figure it out. I'm going for a drive."
He frowns, watching her reach into the mass of clothing and pull out jeans and a black cashmere sweater, "Are you certain that's a good idea?"
"It's an excellent idea."
The Ventrue eyes his vassal critically, "You look positively murderous. I think I'll join you." Make sure she doesn't get caught breaking any laws, mortal or otherwise.
She nods without comment, sliding black calf-high boots on over the jeans, and lifts a key ring off the dresser before turning on one heel and leaving.
Arching a brow, she opens it. Within the first couple sentences, the petite Mekhet is on her knees in a twisting roll, moving faster than the human eye can see, and she hurls the phone across the room, shattering it into dozens of pieces. She freezes, kneeling in a pile of fine linen, her eyes fixed on the remains of the iPhone as she struggles to regain control and calm down.
Jonah Desoto is a dead man. I don't care if he really had a hand in killing Bennet or not... Jaw muscles clench, and then relax again, and she drops back into a sitting position, her hands burying themselves in the sheets and twisting tightly.
Her head tilts to one side as she picks up the faint sound of rapid steps in the hallway, the door to her suite opening, and the steps come towards her bedroom door. Vitae floods her muscles, instinct taking over as she prepares herself for flight and goes dead still, concealing herself from the sight of whomever is about to enter.
The door bursts open and Victor strides in, confusion crossing his face as he looks around and sees an empty room, his eyes fixing on the shattered phone, "Gia, love..." His pupils dilate, and he looks directly at her, "Well, I..." deciding not to comment on her bare flesh, "What's wrong, and why did you break your phone?"
Giuliana exhales forcibly and slides to the edge of the bed, walking across the room towards her closet, "Check your email. I'm certain you'll figure it out. I'm going for a drive."
He frowns, watching her reach into the mass of clothing and pull out jeans and a black cashmere sweater, "Are you certain that's a good idea?"
"It's an excellent idea."
The Ventrue eyes his vassal critically, "You look positively murderous. I think I'll join you." Make sure she doesn't get caught breaking any laws, mortal or otherwise.
She nods without comment, sliding black calf-high boots on over the jeans, and lifts a key ring off the dresser before turning on one heel and leaving.