Introduction; a secluded room in the mansion

[southernpoison]

At the end of a hallway where no one usually goes, there's a spartan room. Inside lives a woman, flanked by anonymous nurses that stick with her as obediently as lapdogs. She wears old-fashioned, expensive clothing, including a black mourning veil draped over her face, and her hands, withered and ancient, lay on top of an embroidery sampler in

Comments

[permanent_blur]

rosencrantz is very fond of hallways where nobody goes, even if he can never remember going there, and stops at the end of this one with a sweet, sweetly-puzzled sort of look. "oh -- i don't know. what've you got?"

[permanent_blur]

"oh." he looks down, himself, something sheepish in the gesture, these-aren't-my-nails-are-they? before tentatively pulling his hand away from his mouth. "sorry."

[southernpoison]

"Quite all right, just don't do it again."

[permanent_blur]

"sorry," he says again, still a little shame-faced, stumbling up to his feet and burying his hands in his trouser-pockets -- he finds a few crumpled paper-swans there and offers one to her, smiling.

[southernpoison]

Cornelia might usually look at a crumpled sheet of folded paper in disgust, but it isn't easy to accept a gift so honestly given as this, and she holds out her hands and cups them around the swan. "Thank you."

[permanent_blur]

rosencrantz only smiles -- guileless, innocent, a smile. "you're very welcome, ma'am."