(Untitled)

[medea_players]

Vashti taps patiently on the keypad, trying not to let the worry seep through. So far she has seen two others dead on the security footage, although some sections are offline. Backtracking what sections she can see only brought more problems

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[woven_threads]

The curtains billow slightly. The moon's light is hidden by the trees.

There is no breeze.

[medea_players]

She stops the cycle of images when she sees Lord Ishamael arrive to rescue Lady Shelley - yes, in a still image, it is easier to see the assailants. At least that went without a hitch, she cannot imagine his reaction had the girl been killed.

Inwardly she shudders. The memory of Luzah's death tends to do that.

[woven_threads]

Footsteps make little sound.

The acrid smell of mildew is barely perceptible.

Light gleams off of the blade of a knife.

[medea_players]

And light doesn't have an attention to be deflected, so when it hits the screen in front of her, Vashti throws herself sideways and away in instincts born of years in the cut-throat service to the Shadow.

A long thin blade drawn from under the desk slashes out defensively in the direction she had seen the light, never mind that she can't quite-