[locked to Salazar and Kilroy... and Thorn if he wants]

[gremlinctrouble]

The past few nights within the Trüble Estate had been anything but cheerful. Death loomed over the rooftop and breathed down Anna's neck like a furnace beckoning to the cold. The stormy clouds beating down over Paris made the night air chilled and heartless. Every breath was like swallowing an ice cube and getting it lodged in your throat. Even the

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[8th_castellan]

*Salazar quietly entered the mansion, taking a moment to sadly scan the state of decay, chill and neglect the building seemed to have fallen under in these past few days. What would happen to this place after Anna was-...?

Forcing such details from his thoughts right now, he instead tightened his grip on the shining blade in his hand, the red gem in the pommel of said sword glinting in the failing light.

Before he had departed from his previous, extended visit last time, she had tearfully instructed him as to where he would find her when this day came. He knew he would have to hurry. Anna was waiting.

Steeling himself for the task that was now, after so much dread, at hand, Salazar made his way to the Truble mansion's basement....*

[gremlinctrouble]

Tattered strips of cloth lined the floor, looking more from struggle than from plain decoration. Bits of sheer fabric and lace and hues of emerald and black. Spots of red dotted the stone floor, leading off into the shadowing corners no light dared to roam. The room itself is hollow feeling and dark, shadows toying with your glances as they silently crawl along the walls. The air stunk of magic and evil, all of it wafting from Anna. Too quiet for just a woman in the basement.

Quiet enough to hear a heartbeat...

[8th_castellan]

*Decending the stairs, Salazar's eyes immediately began glowing a faint reddish-orange from the depth of his pupils, indicating that he was now adapting his eyesight to the dark. The effect made his eyes somewhat resemble two smoudlering cigarette lights in the deepening gloom. Scanning the room before him now, he couldn't help but be reminded of some of his own dungeons back in his castle. How could this been the place Anna would have wanted her final graces carried out? She deserved better. But then again, the only other place he could think of was her bedroom, and he really didn't think he could have beared that...

Then, from one darker end of the basement, he detected the slight sound of movement, the rattle of chains. Turning his illuminated gaze in that direction, Ramon's eyes fell upon the bound form of Annaliese...*

[jackandkill]

"She's ready when you want to, uh... Just... Listen, I'm not really... I can't watch this," a voice, male, called from the dark corner of the basement. His figure leered out from the shadows, black mist flooding off of his skin as he walked forward into was very little light the basement held. Disheveled and tired, Kilroy Hastings joined the couple on the base floor, bare feet touching torn cloth and drops of blood. His blood.

A gash lay across his arm, bandaged by a torn sleeve of his linen dress shirt. Night glowing blue eyes peered over to Anna, saddening at the sight.