[center [font "Times" [B Welcome to Edgefield, the home of the Hackett family, affiliated with the Blackwood and Hackett company, and the Harding factories and funeral homes, and the rest of the rather eccentric society folk from all around. Those peculiar folk that everyone knows. A part of a niche of high society that to some seems even higher, or too high according to some, too contented in themselves. They are above and uninterested in most folk, but are entirely kindly about it, generally.
Tonight, the Hackett family has cordially invited one of these 'others' to join in their Fall festivities. A party, and they've invited some new guests.]
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[font "Times" Matthew patiently maintained politeness on his face, though his features had long since cooled and solidified into apathy. It was only his voice that portrayed any interest in what was going on. His brows arched as he waited and then nodded to the man, folding his hands in front of himself, "[+maroon Very good.]" and slipped past the two of them and out the door.
Anna's eyes remained on Estella's when hers landed on her, maintaining contact as she saw the relief alter the young woman's countenance, her brows shifting as she turned. However the alteration to her eyes did not go unnoticed. Anna's brows rose as she saw it. Rather it wasn't the existence of the black pupils, it was the change back to the blue that made it evident. Her own eyes were dark enough that they at times in certain shadow seemed colorless in that manner, but the blue was unmistakable. The corner of her lips twitched just slightly in pleasant amusement. That meant a great many things, as it was a symptom of any number of conditions from a possession, demonic or otherwise, to an influx of power. This surprise guest was becoming more interesting as the night wore on.
Anna's smile tightened and widened at the interruption from Father Williard, her hands flexing harder, folded like they were in front of her stomach. "[+brown I'm afraid I don't know what her coat looks like. She must come with me.]" the young woman added after the ugly man's command, her dark brown eyes growing hooded as she looked at the two of them.
She held the man's gaze as Estella came over to her before her eyes shifted, offering her elbow. His daughter was not the intended. Once the other's slipped to link with hers, Anna turned and led the young woman down the hallway. Her eyes slid over to Estella as she noted her hand going to the site of the strike and catching sigh of the blood. "[+brown I'll get you something for that.]" Anna murmured as they passed the cloak room, Anna urging Estella on with her. Moving down the short hall past the basement door and the pantry they turned into the large in-house kitchen instead.
The kitchen staff were milling around, talking and laughing when they had arrived, turning and looking curiously towards the two young women who had entered with questions and cooed concerns before Anna smiled and gestured for them to relax and return to what they were doing. Leading Estella to the retaining counter, the young woman in the cream and midnight blue skirts eyed the surprise guest a moment as she bent to retrieve a cloth. Shame about this. The family was surprised that Estella had even been brought along, and now she was in a compromising position, poor thing. "[+brown Peculiar evening.]" she said, tilting her head a little with a gently amused look and handed Estella the cloth.
[right [pic http://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/c1/22/fe/c122fe75ebe53f790b3e9b71ecbe0679.jpg]] Winnie's breath pulled as she lent her senses to Esther, the creature stumbling forwards as it was suddenly swarmed with senses, an immaterial hand landing on the wall as the creature tried to suck up enough energy to materialize. To the naked eye, the sound of the hand landing on the wall was audible, and if one could tell against the fanciful red striped wallpaper on the wall a short distance away, one could see a spidery, black, greasy handprint dripping quietly from where it was before slowly disappearing, or seeming to soak into the wallpaper. But advancing from it along the dark, wooden floors and over the carpet before stopping and pooling was a trail of drips that seemed to come from an unseen body.
The material moved towards Father Williard, seemingly attached to a body. The tension in Winnie's stomach was almost unbearable as she itched to see.
The creature, Esther as Winnie had named it, huffed a low, hollow sounding wheeze of a breath as it moved closer, audible as it shifted between the planes and scenting Father Williard. But suddenly she did appear, flickering for just a moment a towering, spindly creature in writhing, damp-looking cloaks. Perched atop a crooked neck was a long, bird-like mask with a long, curved beak like that of a raven, resembling the skull of the creature with empty, hollow sockets all shadowed under a dripping, moss covered, wide brimmed hat that made the creature crane its head so that it could see him. Its whispy, shrouded body reached out to seek the man Winifred had her eyes on before it vanished.
Winnie lingered where she was, a grin pulling across her lips as excitement ate at her and her fingers pressed hard into the wallpaper of the wall she was secluded behind. Her green eyes were cold as she watched the creature pull up completely from the shadows, dripping, black, and potent as its head craned, twisting around and face Father Williard with an abysmal socket of the mask.
Towering over the man at just over seven feet tall, the spindly pillar of the black, rotten fabric appeared again, pulling dangerously close to the human man. It reeked of putrid blood and cold, damp stone and earth and plant rot. Its aura was visible, fierce around itself in a black, seething cloud that shrouded most of the creature's chilling body and flecked with embers.
She could feel it, something around her that she could not quite put her finger on. The energy swirling around her, it enticed something deep within the pits of her stomach.
Like a snake uncoiling itself from the depths of its hole, wrapping itself around her insides and up through her throat.
The black veins continued to crawl; her father’s eyes adverted to the other direction. Yet she could hear them, the others that were coming from the room to stop them.
Estella attempted to control her veins, stringing her fingers together and holding them tightly. She could feel the muscles in her body tightening, threatening to reveal all that she had kept hidden for so long.
Yet she did not realise that another had already witnessed the display of events between the two, in the spur of the moment she had not seen the figure of Winnie standing there around the corner. She should have noticed, but she did not.
Sounds of footsteps drew closer as the three came towards her, Matthew addressing his speech towards her father.
The Priest did little to hide his distaste towards those before him, but he would not so outwardly avoid speaking with them.
He had completely forgotten about their means of transport home, also realising what the young man had said was completely correct.
Straightening his back, he pulled the edge of his coat down with a small huff, coming to the realisation that at least one of them would have seen him strike his daughter.
This was not a good public look for a man of the cloth; he should have controlled himself better.
[font “Times” “You are quite right, Sir,”]] his voice was rough, coming from the depths of his throat, [font “Times” “I had not thought of the horses, please do call them. I do wish to get home to my wife and family at once,”] the man spoke yet refused to meet the eyes of the man younger than him, he kept his eyes burningly fixated on his daughter.
Estella’s eyes quickly darted to the sound of her name, meeting the warm but knowing smile of Anna.
The question passed through her mind, exactly how much had the woman seen.
For the split second her eyes flickered to Anna, the small amount of control she had faded, her eyes showing a deathly black pupil and iris before quickly returning to their natural blue.
She knew in that moment, she had let a single moment slip, Estella crossing her fingers in hope that she could just pass the entire thing off as a bad moment of lighting and shadowing.
[center “Miss Williard, you've forgotten your coat,”]
The words were heavenly to the woman, a moment aware from her father that would allow her to breathe.
She could feel the air becoming stuck in her throat, having to will herself into ensuring that it pushed up through the snake coiled in her throat.
In the back on her mind played the lullaby she had sung to her as a child, a sung from a terrifying woman in a blood red gown.
A woman that she had never seen nor met before in her life.
[center "Allow me to bring you to the cloak room so we can find it."]
Deep breathe in.
Deep breathe out.
She followed the instructions the tall man in the black top hat had given her, to hide her true nature from those around her.
Estella returned the smile to Anna, of course forgetting in the moment that she had left her coat behind.
She stepped away from her father, only to be caught back by his hand on her arm.
[font “Times” “I want you to stay here, they can fetch your coat for you,”]
[font “Times” [b “Let go of my arm,”]]
The words hissed from her lips like a snake hissing a death sentence filled with poison, her eyes fixed solely on nothing other than her father’s. She knew he would not dare strike her in direct attention of those around them, she took her chances and yanked her arm free.
She could hear her own heels clicking against the marble flooring, silence filling that around them. It was as if almost everyone was holding their breathe.
Finally, she made it to the spot in which Anna was standing, taking the woman’s arm in a sign that would seem nothing other than polite for company but instead for support.
For something to hold onto in case her father was to run after her.
As her back was turned, she lifted a hidden arm to touch the side of her face where she had been slapped, the skin red and stingy.
There was evidence that he had split the side of her lip, a small drop of blood falling down her porcelain skin and to the ground.
She did not turn around to face her father, nor did she speak at all.
Slowly but surely, the veins slowly decreased around her shoulders, the Priest having returned his attention to the young man before him and the other woman, once again missing the strange reaction of his daughter.
[font “Times” [b “Can we walk faster, please?”]] Estella whispered to the woman next to her, the spare hand holding the edge of her skirts.
[font "Times" The hosts and the others listened to the explanations of their focal guest attentively with looks of glee or interest, even, on some. Contemplation or disbelief and some chortling had expressed itself from the majority of them as he explained. The stringent values of his made many a pair of brows arch . But their questions as the night continued became bolder, more challenging as they engaged with him. Why not? Is it not hate and bigotry to...? And so the man's face did redden, and those who could, they tasted his pulse quickening.
Winifred's lips curled into a purring smirk as she watched the look on the man's face, this 'father'. She felt a whisper behind her shoulder and the brush of an immaterial, blind hand as Esther's spidery appendage reached for her, reached for her senses, and touched her shoulder in one respect, but touched the rest of her in another. The anger pulled from the man permeated the room, both twins honing in quietly on the Christian man's reaction with quiet eyes slotted into the corners of open, interested sockets. The room grew at first warm with the activity and then yet chilled somehow at the edges. The room felt the same temperature, but had a cold edge to it as the man's emotions fluctuated and suddenly a rift formed between two bodies of reason; the rest of the table, and Father Williard. Even Thomas' eyes flickered up as something seemed to strike him, his breath catching a little, shoulders tensing as he looked above Winifred's head and then over to the darkly clad man of the cloth.
Cain hummed in surprise as Henri kissed him, his hand slipping up to his cheek before they parted, grinning at one another. "[+crimson Oh, my my.]" he said, both sitting back in their seats again, the blonde looking at his ginger partner and bit his lip.
"[+red Oh, my good man, we aren't lying at all! We're sitting at this table enjoying a nice conversation about ideals.]" Henri said, gesturing towards Father Williard with a warm smile.
The guests had quieted by now, unless they were talking amongst themselves and not paying attention. Thomas blinked, eyes snapping back to Mr. Hackett before returning to Williard. As Estella moved he almost reached out for her, Winifred considering the same but she was gone to the man's side by then. "[+brown My,]" Anna crooned, glancing at her brother across from her briefly before looking back at Father Williard. Her smile was polite, gently poised over her lips, but her eyes held a dangerous edge, and yet a note of amusement danced in them. "[+brown that's quite insulting.]" Her smile widened slightly.
"[+maroon I do believe that he is ignorant of ours.]" Matthew added to his sister, and the two laughed. His eyes were half-lidded, looking amused as e glanced over Williard, considering his figure underneath his religious vestments.
Henri stood up, looking shocked as the man handled his daughter and drug her out, his wife looking shocked as well. A few of the gentlemen and some of the women managed to stand politely before the man swept out of the room. One of them was Winifred, depositing her napkin on the table and the twins. "[+red Er, children,]" Mr. Hackett said, turning to his two middle children, "[+red please see him out.]" The twins exchanged a look of glee.
The hallways were silent now, and empty, and within their lush quiescence there were two dots of movement; and angered father leading his daughter outside. But among them were others. The shadows flickered briefly, a whisper of something of whose attention had been caught, a prick of an ear. But as they moved, as a certain someone's energy spiked, as Father Williard's anger rose to a point of striking his daughter something changed in the energy of the house that was not just the young woman.
Winnie was quick, slipping outside but lingering back around the corner so as not to interrupt. But the sound of a slap surprised her and her hands clenched in her skirts, mouth pulling sourly- how dare he- but something else kept her still. She saw Estella's reaction, of course, but the advent of those veins that leapt up above her gloves and up her bare shoulders and to her throat. Now [i that] was interesting.
Coming up behind her was a group from the table, the twins Matthew and Anna. She swept an arm out to stop them briefly. Behind Winifred she felt Esther's hands crawling up her back; she wanted to see, wanted to touch; and Anna's favorite was hovering close by.
The young man behind her whispered in her ear, Winnie listening and then nodding. Matthew then passed around her, the brunette offering a polite smile to the pair in the hall. "[+maroon Please allow me to call your carriage for you, sir. I'm sure your horses are stabled, as we hadn't been expecting you to leave so soon.]" he said, keeping his expression neutral and cordial. He was a young man who had a disinterest in his eyes as a feature at rest, it never left, but he was polite.
That was when Anna moved, smiling and looking to the young woman, "[+brown Miss Williard, you've forgotten your coat,]" she said, giving the young woman a pointed look as she gestured her to follow. "[+brown allow me to bring you to the cloak room so we can find it.]"
Winnie lingered where she was, watching.
Jonathan did not enjoy being questioned by those he thought to be inferior to himself, he could not stand it in fact.
It was bad table manners.
Yet that did not mean that he would not ensure that his voice was heard.
His eyes had strayed away from watching the expression of his daughter, ensuring that he had missed every part of her sudden disenchantment with the questions that had begun to take place.
[font “times” “In fact-“]
[font “Times” “No that’s not-“]
[font “times” “You cannot-“]
[font “times” “Not in the eyes of Go-“]
The Priest was unable to get a single sentence in before another question was shot before him.
[center [b “Now, now, how about this”]]
The anger boiled through the man’s veins, above all, homosexuality was one of the worst sins.
Jonathan almost rose to his feet yet caught himself, not wishing to show the same level of disrespect towards the hosts.
Red shot through his face, a hand clenched loosely into a fist under the table, other clutching at the stem of his glass.
He fought to maintain his emotions.
[font “Times” “Man shall not lie with another man,”] he quoted the words to those before him before finally returning his attention to his daughter, [font “Times” “Estella, I believe it is time for us to leave now. I do not wish to show any sign of rudeness towards our hosts but I am unable to be within a household that shows such utter disrespect towards another beliefs,”] The Priest had begun to finally rise to his feet.
Estella’s attention, now having returned from the pits of her mind to find her eyes fixated on the gentleman she had wandered in with, had been brought directly to the men that kissed.
She could not help but let a small giggle pass through her lips at the totally ridiculous outrage of her father, oh how he had never had his own emotions in check.
Yet as he rose, and continued to speak, she knew that this was no longer a joke to him. She knew the man that was her father was now on the defense and refusing to take any more.
[font “Times” [b “Father, please, sit down.”]] she rose to move by his side, gently trying to push him down with her fingers, [font “Times” [b “You are being incredibly embarrassing!”]] she hissed the words towards him.
[font “Times” “Oh, I am embarrassing you? Daughter, you should be embarrassed to be surrounded by people that have clear ignorance for the word of our Lord and Savior,”]
[font “Times” [b “Father, please, just sit down.”]]
[font “Times” “No,”]] Jonathan took the arm of his daughter in such a tight grip that it begun to leave marks almost instantly on her pale skin, [font “Times” “I bid you Farewell, gentlemen and ladies,”]
The Priest dragged Estella by the arm through the large doors they had already entered, the likes of which closed behind there.
In an attempt, she struggled free, releasing her arm from his grip.
All too suddenly, his hand was brought down across her face, almost knocking the smaller woman to the floor.
The hallway which was swarming with people earlier was now deathly empty.
Estella rose to her feet, the clear anger surging through her eyes and powered through her fingers. The black veins began to crawl up the tips of her fingers, hidden by the gloves.
They moved further up her arms to her neck.
It is here that she caught herself, she could not allow her father to know the secret she had kept so well.
She would be hung.
[font “Times” “Get in the carriage, NOW!”]
[font “Times” [b “No.”]]
[font "Times" Winifred's eyes followed Estella as she came over next to her, offering a smile and folding her hands in her lap. "[#003300 [B I'm glad you're having a good time. We weren't expecting your father to bring company,]]" she gave the woman who looked just under her age a little glance and a more genuine smile. "[#003300 [B but the word, and how Mister Fletcher is acting, says you are a genteel and enjoyable person.]]" The young, raven haired young man seemed actually rather at ease, despite his trembling hands, for walking in with a complete stranger. Having known him as long as she had, she wasn't surprised by the way that Estella kept glancing at him, but quietly kept her smiles to herself.
She smiled knowingly, eyes tracing and making contact with the person across from her before her eyes trailed up towards the ceiling. "[#003300 [B This house has been here for a long time and has seen a lot. Time makes you wise, if not cynical.]]" Her eyes slid sidelong to Estella as she noted the other looking around as well. "[#003300 [B It's been a haven for ages. The Hackett family has kept its doors open to their intimates.]]"
Anna smiled at her, giving the newcomer a quick glance over, taking in her body language. She didn't seem nervous, at least. She reinvigorated her smile, "[+brown Well, I hope it isn't too overwhelming. It is quite a large party.]"
Matthew and Winifred gently began to notice the manner in which the two relatives would avoid one another. His dark eyes flickered to her sharp green ones as she was taking her own delicate sip. From underneath the brim of her hat, the young woman arched a dark brow at him and he could detect the telling lines of a smile in the manner with which the apples of her cheeks rose. His own brows rose and his eyes slid over to his father who was looking gleeful. [i So this was the man with which he was so focused.]
[right [pic http://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/8d/e8/19/8de8191d12144595817842e15f5e036f.jpg]] Thomas, the quiet fellow that he was unless directly addressed, found his thoughts drifting to the nearly embarassing mess that had become of his unexpected interaction with the young woman in one of the rooms of the house. The guest that no one had expected. And with those thoughts drifting as they did, so did his eyes up to the woman herself. Estel- rather Miss Williard, he corrected himself. She seemed distant and thoughtful, but her face was falling, a shadow drifting over it. Presently, to allow her intimacy with her thoughts as he felt distinctly intrusive to be gazing at her in such a manner even in curiosity, he averted his eyes as Henri addressed Father Williard again, or whatever his title was.
It was becoming clear, the more the man spoke, to the mostly black clad, or black accented individuals at the table, his reception was either with clear amusement, such as with Anna, her father, mother and a number of the rest. Or with apathy, disinterest, [i hunger] by others. Thomas was indifferent, fighting his hesitation at the damning words that came out of the man's mouth about forces of evil, sin, and the parameters thereof. He grew uncomfortable, his own eyes dropping or shifting to Winifred.
Henri had been asking him question after question until the rest had begun to join in, poking and prodding at his ideas, more alcohol being consumed to loosen lips, and they would jeer, laugh, get into smatterings of arguments with the man all with an air of levity and critique of which Thomas wondered how much the holy man recognized as he continued sternly instructing the rest, almost, with his tone. But he could see and feel the heat grow in the religiously Christian bedecked guest.
Thomas eventually looked back at Estella, curious to see how she was taking this, to be met with a surprise at seeing her emotional shift had become leaden and heavy and in fact she wasn't paying attention at all, her eyes unfocused and elsewhere. Curiosity touched him, weighing whether her reflection was as a result of the escalating events of the table or of an entirely internal narrative. She suddenly looked at him, Thomas freezing at the idea of being caught staring and quickly gave her a concerned look, received by a weak smile. She didn't seem [i bothered] that he had been staring at least, he marveled. How peculiar.
"[+red Now, now what about this?]" Henri said, gesturing to Mr. Cain beside him. The blonde man leaned towards the ginger, and master Hackett cupped his face in one hand as the two men then came together and kissed, Cain humming in pleased surprise and steadying himself on the table, brows arching.
Estella smiled at the man, he’s offer of company seemed to warm the pit of her stomach. Such a day full of wonders, things that she did not deem possible to her in this lifetime.
[font “Times” [b “I would thoroughly enjoy the company,”]] she continued her smile and took the man’s arm.
She followed Thomas throughout the house, unable to wipe the small grin from the edges of her lips as she slowly made her way through. Her dress continued to trail behind her slowly.
For once, she did not feel as though she was the odd one out.
Oh how she never ever wanted to leave this place again.
Through the door and into a room that truly stood up to its name, the first person she spotted was the man who had called out to her. Mr Hackett she recalled quickly.
Across the room Estella shot an award winning smile towards him yet did not let go of Thomas’s arm.
Her grip tightened slightly as her eyes ran over the figure of her father. Her mood dropping almost instantly.
[font “Times” [b “Thankyou,”]] she whispered quietly to Thomas before pulling out her chair and sitting herself beside Miss Blackwood, [font “Times” [b “I did not think I would ever have the chance to experience anything as beautiful as this place…”]] she spoke quietly to the woman beside her before dragging her eyes around the room.
Her eyes were taken away from the woman next to her and directed towards the twins; it was not often that twins were seen in their small town.
In fact, she could already feel her father’s distaste towards the pair, he quite often thought that twins and most other things that came in pairs were the Devil’s work.
Oh how wrong he was, for Estella knew the Devil came in sets of three.
She softened the skirt of her dress while staying seated, eyes still on the twins as they introduced themselves.
Under the layers of skirt she hit the three tally marks, one set on each of her pale hip bones near the top of her thighs.
If only they knew, they things she had seen and the things she kept hidden.
For a single moment she swore she could hear the sound of a Crow in the distance, of course, she was still being watched.
He would not allow her to be in danger for even a moment.
[font “Times” [b “It is a pleasure to meet you Anna and Matthew, it seems every time I think I have met everyone there could be to know, another person appears,”]] she smiled and took the glass of water in front of her, taking a delicate sip, [font “Times” [b “I do not think I have socialized this much before in my entire life,”]]
As the moments passed, Estella avoided the gaze of her father who bore anger into her being. She knew exactly what would be awaiting her at home by the end of the night.
Estella attempted to close her eyes, for only a moment she saw the memory flash behind her eyelids.
The pinnacle moment in the scheme of her life that had tipped the balance for all.
[i A young Estella walks through the halls of her father’s church, skipping her feet as she goes. Her sister had refused to follow down the dark and damp stone floor, not wanting to upset the balance of things that she did not understand.]
[i Estella had laughed at her, only at age of twelve she had more courage that most that lived among her. Taking the key from the lock where it was always kept, she wandered into the forbidden halls and through the smell of rot. Small hands shrugged the shawl tighter around her bare shoulders. The temperature had dropped so much that she could see her own breath before her face.]
[i Why had her father forbidden her to venture into these halls? What secrets had he hidden down her?]
[i It was of no surprise that Estella’s younger sister, Viola, had always been the favorite. The young girl was certain that if her father had he’s way she would have been handed off to a different family in a different town at birth. She even questioned the love of her mother who refused to look in her eyes anymore.]
[i For a child of only twelve, she had seen too many nightmares that she could not explain. She was scared and alone, the only solace the girl found was between cold stone walls.]
[i Eventually her curiosity brought her to a large chamber where only the scratches of rats and the drops of stale water made their way to her ears. The darkness plunged to her for a moment and she could not see.]
[i After several long moments of waiting for her eyes to adjust, she let out a startled squeal at the figure of a tall man clad in black standing before her. How had she not noticed him before hand? Would he hurt her?]
[i [font “Times” [b “Child, are you lost?”]] the tall man with the deep voice said quietly, not moving from the position he was already standing in.]
[i [font “Times” “No, I am hiding,”] she replied.]
[i [font “Times” [b “From whom?”]]]
[i [font “Times” “My father and mother,”]]
[i [font “Times” [b “Why, child?”]]]
[i [font “Times” “My father thinks I am a witch. He told me he wishes I was dead. Mother does not love me anymore. They love my little sister, Viola. She’s the favorite,”]]
[i [font “Times” [b “Do you feel alone?”]]]
[i [font “Times” “Yes,”] tears trickled down the small girl’s cheeks.]
[i [font “Times” [b “Oh child, do not cry,”]] the tall man moved towards her and picked her up, hugging the child as if she was a precious flower, [font “Times” [b “I promise you that you will never feel alone again. Do not worry, I will always be here to look after you, and so will He.”]]]
Estella opened her eyes once more, unsure of how long she had not being paying attention to the scene around her.
The smile had long since left her lips and her face seemed to pull into a sadness which she was all too familiar with.
Her hand reached out for the glass of champagne that had been left for her, the gaze of her ocean blue eyes rising slightly only to reach the questioning glance of Thomas across the table from herself.
She offered him a poorly attempted, weak smile before adverting her eyes downcast once again.
[font "Times" Henri's smile brightened, reaching a hand out and gesturing at Estella as she approached the table and then looked to the two fraternal twins. "[+red Lieblings,]" he said, looking excited, "[+red Anna, Matthew, this is Estella Williard.]"
[right [pic http://i.imgur.com/B409o4g.jpg]] The twins both had the same dark, thick burgundy hair that had the red undertones of their mother's brunette. They had dark brown eyes and the pleasant, pale pallor of the aristocracy. The young woman, Anna, gave Estella a quiet smile, looking at her with interest, her dark eyes intelligent and interested as she viewed the young woman. Her hair swept behind her head in a fashionable, teased lady's updo. She had a cream blouse with a fitted, tall collar on a slender neck and a kerchief pinned at her throat by a brooch cinched into a dray/black skirt. Next to her, her brother, was a similar fellow with a delicate spray of freckles across his cheeks with intelligent and sharp brown eyes and his hair slicked, short on the sides, longer on top unlike Mr. Fletcher's soft curls. Matthew was dressed in a formal, black suit and a cream and gold filigreed brocade waistcoat with a gold watch chain, he bowed his head to her, a delicately polite smile touching his lips. "[+maroon A pleasure, Miss Williard.]"
[font "Times" Thomas gazed at her a moment through clear blue eyes, his eyes searching hers for a lie in her composure. He hadn't seen her because he had been so distracted and had walked in on a young woman who seemed not but patient in tolerating the company. "[+goldenrod I- oh.]" he looped a slender finger around the chain on his black satin waistcoat, following it to the pocket and pulling out his little worn silver pocket watch, clicking it open. "[+goldenrod Dinner isn't for a little while longer, you need not worry. This is a special night,]" the dark haired young man mentioned, shutting the watch carefully. "[+goldenrod they eat rather late.]"
The pocket watch disappeared in its pocket again, Thomas smoothing the material of his waistcoat with his hand, the signet ring on his index glinting lightly. "[+goldenrod I had only the pleasure of seeing the man from across the ballroom, I'm afraid. But Mr. Hackett had been excitedly crowing about his guest for this year.]"
"[+goldenrod I am Thomas Fletcher. It's a pleasure to meet you.]" he said, smiling at her mildly, trying not to look too incredibly meek as he did so, dropping his gaze soon afterwards. [i She is rather open with herself,] he thought to himself at her bold and surprisingly at ease mention of her father's distasteful company? Or was it an attempt at summoning sympathy...? He never soent much time with society ladies to know. Many were feathery, flippant things he hesitated around save for the breed of his own company, the Hacketts, Blackwoods, Addams, and such.
"[+goldenrod Oh no,]" he put up a hand towards the black clad young lady, dressed similarly to himself. But here it wasn't so unheard of. Much of the festive garb of the other guests had much more black in it than what would be considered proper for one when not in mourning. He put a hand up as she stood there a moment, "[+goldenrod it was me who had interrupted. I'll just see if I can't find the novel I was looking for and then I'll leave you be, I do apologize for interrupting.]" With that he made a gentle bow to her and turned towards one of the built in bookshelves.
His eyes then moved over the bookshelf then, seeking the spine of the little burgundy novel that he had loved so much. Thomas tried to be as unobtrusive as possible as he did so. Some time passed as he did, not knowing how much, but the sound of the young woman rising caught his attention and he turned, fingers holding open a little novel in his hands, brows arching at her. Nervously, he gave her a fleeting smile as she spoke. But the polite smile broadened, closing the book and slipping it back into its place. "[+goldenrod No, no trouble at all. I would be delighted. The house is large and unfamiliar, I imagine.]" he dropped his gaze a moment before turning to her. "[+goldenrod You might get lost.]"
With that he set his glass down next to a couple of others on a small table and offered his elbow to her, "[+goldenrod Would you like to accompany me, then? That's where I've been seated as well.]"
[right [pic http://i.imgur.com/zLWclse.jpg?1]] When the young woman accepted his offer Thomas turned and walked back down the hall again. Outside, the lush wallpaper reflecting the lights as they passed and their feet tapping lightly on the floorboards, a number creaking notably as their weight shifted over them. The halls had cleared some now, it seemed and had become quiet. He led her past the ballrooms, through the corridors and to the red dining room. Some of the others had been converted and cleared, with some tables and chairs added here and there and a buffet styled selection set down. The one single, sit-down table he led Estella to was set with a number of places. Mr. Hackett sat at the head next to a slender woman assumedly his wife, and Mr Dietrich right next to the little ginger man. There was a pair of fraternal twins who resembled the couple near them, Miss Blackwood and Alice from earlier, and a number of others. Estella's father sat at the opposite head. And there was an empty place a little distance from the man, and the other across from it. Estella was seated away from her father, and Mr. Fletcher was across from her.
Henri Hackett lit up when the two arrived, "[+red Why hello my dear! Good to see you! We were just about to begin.]"
Miss Blackwood, next to Estella's spot, smiled brightly, "[#003300 [B Estella- come here!]]" she said, glancing at Mr. Williard briefly before beckoning her over.
With that, Mr. Fletcher released her arm with another bow and turned to go around the other side of the table.
The soft sounds of the band still ran through the walls, vibrating the very tips of her fingers as she sat silently.
Nothing but herself and her thoughts. And the Crow.
The Crow was a constant, always surrounding her, engulfing her with a secret that was too dark to tell a soul.
Her palms were flat against the satin fabric covering the small lounge, her eyes slightly closed and lips parted, a breathe escaping between the ruby pouted skin.
This was something she could get use to, although she had no hope for it to remain for to long.
Her silence was destroyed by the opening of the door she had been sure to close behind her. She was no longer alone.
What a shame.
Ocean blue eyes directed towards the tall male, short dark locks and skin as pale as her own. He was ridiculously handsome.
It was obvious she had not yet noticed her, although she was not sure how that could be, she stood out stark dressed in black against the gold interior desgin.
Finally, he’s eyes came to meet her’s, studying for a long time before finally lowering. A slight smile held on the edges of her mouth.
He muttered an apology.
She listened intently.
Her fingers still dragged in the vibrations of the music through the lounge.
[font “Times” [ b “Oh please, there is no need to apologise. You did not startly me in the slightlest,”]] she stood and smoothed out the wrinkles in her luxurious gown, [font “Times” [b “I should probably leave anyway, I haven’t the slightest clue where I am and it would be rude to be late for dinner,”]]
Although she spoke of leaving, she did not move in the slightest.
[font “Times” [b “But.. If you didn’t mind, we do not have to speak, but could I stay for just a little longer? I promise to leave you be afterwoods,”]] she searched for his eyes and smiled when she finally met them, [font “Times” [b “I really am just enjoying being able to finally relax, moments like these are hard to come by in my own life,”]] she looked around aimlessly, [font “Times” [b “I’m Estella Williard by the way, you might of already had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting my father Priest Williard. It is him that I am avoiding,”]]
She stood for a few more moments, deciding it was acceptable to stay before taking her seat on the lounge.
Estella did not know whether not he wished for her to stay, or if he would rather be alone so she sat in silence.
Her gaze pierced out the window.
She never wanted to leave this place, not ever again. Unable to quite make it work in her head, the logicial reasoning as to why she felt so at home here, for sure that could not be true? She had only been here for no longer than a few hours yet she never ever wanted to leave.
She wanted to roam the halls deep into her last days, she wanted to be carried over the threshold into this house by a loving husband.
Estella wanted to feel as if she finally [i belonged] somewhere.
For as long as she could remember, it was all she ever wanted.
After a number of minutes, maybe even hours, had passed she finally rose. Clearing her throat slightly, she looked over at the man across from her.
Had he been watching her like she had been watching him from the corner of her eyes? Had he studied her every movement, every breathe? The inhale and exhale of precious life from her lungs?
She did not know.
[font “Times” [b “I think maybe I should try and find the room with all the food,”]] she smiled to herself, [font “Times” [b “Sorry, that really wasn’t that funny.”]] her eyes adverted down, [font “Times” [b “I know, it’s a bit lot to ask but would you be able to show me to the Red Room? Mr. Hackett and Mr. Dietrich have invited me to dinner and I think it would be quite rude to deny their request,”]]
[left [pic http://coolspotters.com/files/photos/896814/like-a-virgin-and-moulin-rouge-gallery.jpg]] [font "Times" "[+red Sector,]" Henri repeated, smile but broadening on his face, "[+red how delightful. Such officiality and grandeur.]" the man made a tiny shiver as if excited by the notion. "[+red I do love it!]"
The man turned towards Miss Willard, Winifred's eyes following his and keeping her polite silence. Her entertainment could only stretch so far, feeling figurative hackles raising at the man's stern, black and white mentality about the whole thing. She felt her smile become placed, poised just as any facade, and held her quietude. "[+red Yes, I can tell indeed.]" Mr. Hackett said, nodding gravely at her. He then offered a smile to the young woman, about to ask her what she was passionate about, but she excused herself. A thread of disappointment was strung inside of himself, but he quelled it.
Henri's eyes followed the young woman as she left, that bright smile yet on his face. He was again so [i glad] that the man had attended, though the average sized ginger's heart went out to a young woman who was under the thumb of such a creature as him. And he hoped that she would not mind their playing with him for an evening. The problem with the religious fellow bringing his daughter is that either he could drag her into the Hackett family's shenanigans by either raging at her, [i or] she would feel some sort of secondary embarrassment, which was the not in the least the point of the evening. His eyes then returned to the other man, tilting his head up a bit, "[+red Roman Catholic,]" Henri said in an attempt to diffuse some of the tension, "[+red I've always been a fan of the architecture of the Catholics.]" he said, eyes distancing a little bit to envision the rose windows and the vaulted cielings, humming to himself.
He would save further question until such a time that they would be at dinner, where he could share the joy with the rest of the table. The Hackett's and the Addams's and the Blackwood's... a lovely evening laid out for them.
[right [pic http://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/8d/e8/19/8de8191d12144595817842e15f5e036f.jpg]] He had been standing beside the lady of the house, eyes scanning over all of the warm bodies surrounding them and swallowed patiently to himself. It was an exertion on himself to watch all of these people, all of the movement, and not feel trapped, as if he couldn't breathe. Much as he wished to stay beside Anna he was beginning to get restless. A slow exhalation and he looked down at the champagne in his hand and wondered if he would want a stroll outside, where he could breathe some amount better. Generally he was fine with large gatherings but tonight he felt... off. Perhaps due to the events of the previous day. They weighed on his mind, tensing the line of his mouth and he turned his head towards the brunette standing beside himself instead of her brother, brows arched forwards in apology.
Her smile was gentle, as it ever was, unchanging as it ever was. He looked at her a moment, a hum low in his throat before he added his thanks and then turned to walk away, adjusting his waistcoat a little more comfortably on himself as he moved down the halls, finding some of the quieter chambers...
He left the grand hall, going down the mirrored hallway, avoiding looking up at the windows, and the couples standing hither and yon talking to themselves. Their gazes were unobtrusive save for the fact that they were pointed at someone else. He heard their conversations continuing as if uninterrupted entirely, simply acknowledging someone else. He then turned down another hallway towards the main house and into one of the libraries.
The door opened, an exhaled sigh exiting through the mouth of the owner, eyes down on his drink, a sparkling, golden liquid that he wanted to tear his throat up without cessation. He wanted the feeling, he [i wanted] it, but knew that he would temper himself for fear of illness. That was his current train of thought at least until he heard the shift of another person in the room. His eyes shot up, stepping back instinctively and expecting something else entirely, the shrouded form of... until he realized it was a human being on the chaise lounge, turned around to look at him from her seat, dressed in black, ivory reaching above her neckline instead of whatever else he immediately banished from his mind. He felt his skin crawl despite that. "[+goldenrod Oh,]" he said, blinking blankly before dropping his head a little bit, blinking and averting his gaze before puling his expression together to look at her again, brows arching forwards in apology. "[+goldenrod I am so sorry, I didn't realize anyone- I do hope I didn't startle you.]" His fingers lingered on the doorhandle, prepared entirely to leave even if not becked.
Estella watched the man leave, she not speak yet let her eyes do it for her. Although her lips may not move often, she had learnt to speak through expression.
One of the manner talents her mother had taught her in order to deal with her father. Even a woman with the status of being the wife of one of the most powerful men in the town knew that her own voice would not be heard.
It was one of the downfalls of the society that surrounded them, woman, just like children, were to be seen and not heard. Or so Estella thought to believe until she came to this place. This towering beauty of architecture. The women spoke so freely, without fear of repercussions or being struck.
She had almost lost focus on those speaking in front of her, that was until the man with the piercing blue eyes asked the question she so hated to hear.
[font “Times” [r “What, er, discipline are you in your faith? If that’s what it’s called.”]] He remarked.
Estella could almost feel the pressure building in her father’s head before he even opened his mouth, she adverted her eyes.
[font “Times” “Sector. It’s called a sector, Sir.”] The words rolled off he’s tongues rather harsher than expected, [font “Times” “And I belong to the Roman Catholic sector. The only real religion that should remain. Surely you should understand that much, I do not understand how these protestants seem to think they shall remain. The Lord above will provide judgement upon them when their day comes,”] Jonathan straightened he’s back and pulled the vest of he’s suit down.
Once again Estella felt as though she must correct her father.
[font “Times” [i “My father is rather passionate about he’s faith.. He does not believe that there could be more than just what he believes.”]] she adverted her eyes away from him and shook her head slightly.
[font “Times” “You are either a believer, or a sinner. And Estella, my dearest daughter, your judgement day is quickly coming upon us.”] he’s words were laced with venom she was being to become accustomed to, yet she would not allow him to embarrass her in such beautiful company.
[font “Times” [i “If you will excuse me, I must use the Ladies room,”]] Lie. [font “Times” [i “I will meet you at the carriage later, [b Father.]”]] she spat the words at him, not wishing to stay a moment longer within he’s presence. She gathered her skirt in her hands and turned her back to the male, gliding into the crowd of people.
[font “Times” “If you know what is good for you girl, you will not leave my side,”]] Mr. Williard called after her, the rage within her building once more yet she was not listening.
Estella moved her feet faster as she weaved in and out of the dancing figures, finding herself to a door once more. Yet sure was certain this was not the one she had entered through. Once the crowd had lessened, she allowed her skirt to drop to the floor. The large trail once more dragging behind her as she clasped her hands in front of her.
Her eyes took in every feature of the large hall, small groups of people watching as she passed by. Did she really not fit in that make that they had to stare? Surely not.
It was not long until the woman had found herself within another room, much smaller and more intimate. Slow jazz played from somewhere in the background, the tunes calming the jumping nerves within her body.
The gold glistening accessories caught in her eyes, bouncing against the sky blue. She sat herself on a golden lounge, crossing one leg over the other and letting a soft sigh through her lips.
A ting jumped into her throat, accepting the fact that she would not make it to dinner as she had no idea exactly where she was or where she was to head.
Not that Estella really minded that much, more time aware from her father the better.
She had sat herself beside the window, watching the lights of the town from a far distance away. The sound of a beak tapping on the glass brought her attention to the black crow that almost blended in with the dark night. Of course, the male she had left in the town would ensure that her safety was secured.
Alice and Winifred glanced at one another at his mention and snickered. "[font "Times" [#009688 [B What a quaint notion, sir.]]]" Alice said, sliding him a once over. "[font "Times" [#009688 [B And uh, you sir? Has your own vanity fled from your being because of god's will?]]]" the young blonde asked with an innocent looking smile up at him. "[font "Times" [#009688 [B That's how it works, isn't it?]]]"
Winifred glanced at Estella, then gave a dissenting hum at Alice, "[font "Times" [#003300 [B Now now, be civil.]]]" she said, turning her gaze up to the priest. "[font "Times" [#003300 [B I apologize. She's an insightful woman. We forget to keep our tongues in the presence of one such as yourself.]]]"
Alice smiled innocently, "[font "Times" [#009688 [B Well, at least one of you looks lovely as a result of their attention paid.]]]" she looked at Estella briefly.
"[font "Times" [#003300 [B Oh, we really did so precious little of it ourselves.]]]" Winifred said, gesturing around them at the warm wooded walls.
Alice leaned into her, "[font "Times" [#009688 [B Just wait until you see the ballroom.]]]"
[center [pic http://coolspotters.com/files/photos/896814/like-a-virgin-and-moulin-rouge-gallery.jpg]]
"[font "Times" [+red Brilliant.]]" Mr. Hackett said, turning his gaze to the man's daughter, carefully ignoring the stiffness with a replenishing smile. "[font "Times" [+red Lovely to meet you my dear, simply lovely.]]" the jovial man said, inclining his head towards her and returning her curtsey. "[font "Times" [+red Now,]]" The ginger little gentleman said turning to the man next to him. "[font "Times" [+red this is my dearest partner, Mr. Franz Dietrich.]]"
The slight, blond man smiled at them both and bowed kindly, "[font "Times" [+crimson A pleasure.]]" his voice was light and slightly nasal, and his words accented like a Frenchman. He smiled at first to Estella and then nodding in a reserved manner towards Mr. Willard, shifting his footing. "[font "Times" [+crimson Truly.]]"
"[font "Times" [+red We would introduce you to the children, however it seems they aren't around.]]" Henri clapped his hands together, "[font "Times" [+red Do make yourselves at home and enjoy yourselves. There are some volunteer serviceman about that can direct you anywhere you need to. Dinner will be in an hour. This is a large gathering, so we've set up multiple rooms for dinner, feel free to choose whichever you like. Reginald, myself and my family will be in the red room.]]" The master of the house then turned towards Mr. Dietrich. "[font "Times" [+red Would you be a dear and tell Miss Ivory to begin preparatons to serve, please?]"
Mr. Dietrich smiled at him fondly, "[font "Times" [+crimson Of course.]]" and with that he nodded to them and stepped away, "[font "Times" [+crimson Do excuse me.]]"
Henri then turned to Mr. Willard, "[font "Times" [+red I'm desperately curious sir- if you wouldn't mind my asking.]]" he said, arching his brows. "[font "Times" [+red What, er, [i discipline] are you in your faith? If that's what it's called.]]" Winifred glanced at Estella for a moment before glancing away and catching the eye of a certain person across the room. She smiled gently and returned her attention to what was happening. Despite Mr. Hackett's interest, she really had little patience for the man, though she was the one who politely defended him earlier and nudged Estella lightly in the arm.
“You must be freezing,” the words went through the woman’s head almost a million times. No one had once mentioned the temperature of her skin, and she was sure that through constantly always wearing gloves none would ever notice.
The sound of loud music and laughter rang through the halls as they passed groups of people after groups of people as they descended further and further into the enormous mansion.
Estella could not help but wonder how many more rooms could be left, it had felt like a million had already gone past her yet the two women in front of her Father and herself did not seem to be slowing to a stop anytime soon.
The oil portraits were what caught the Priest’s eyes, the faces staring back at him to a point where he almost felt uncomfortable. When he was sure no one was looking, the man passed the sign of the cross with he’s hands over the sides of he’s chest and face. Just on the off chance that something was very wrong within this house. He’s nerves already standing on end.
[font “Times” “We were late, due to dear Estella letting her vanity getting the better of her. She is quite a vain creature, something that men will not find appealing. Surely you two lovely women will understand that, she is getting quite old and if we are not to have her wed soon, no man will want to marry her,”] he shot a deathly glance towards he’s daughter, still looking disgusted with her.
[font “Times” [i “We were late because you were too busy yelling at my hand maiden for supposedly being in your way..”]] Estella retorted quietly enough for her Father not to hear, rolling her eyes with her head turned to the side. She did not doubt that he would strike her with he’s fist if he had of heard her statement, [font “Times” [i “I do apologise, ladies, I would have loved to partake with the decorating. You have all done an outstanding job regardless.”]]
Her father shot her another look.
They were lead into a room full of people waltzing, beautiful designed dresses swirling around with their owner. Estella could not believe the beauty and timing before her eyes, she had never seen anything like it. Although, that came as no surprise, as her father had forbidden both herself and her sister from ever attending any form of party or ball until they were much other.
It was honestly a surprise that the woman was even here right now.
The Priest followed the taller woman, not even noticing that the other had disappeared into the crowd. He’s daughter followed closely behind her, skirt also in her hands just like the woman in front so not to be stepped or tripped on by the extensive train.
Not much further through the crowd and the cause of the louder laughing and talking was brought before the Priest and he’s daughter. The look on he’s face staying as neutral as cold marble, much like the colour of Estella’s skin.
[font “Times” “Mr Willard. Jonathan Willard. Pleasure to meet you Mr Hackett,”] Jonathan responded with a firm handshake, not quite extending the same amount of friendliness as the male before him, [font “Times” “And this is my daughter, Estella”]
Estella looked up at the pair, her blue eyes extending kindness as she smiled and bowed her head once more while lifting her skirts into a curtsy.
Winifred held the smile on her face as she took the man's hand in hers, letting her grip be firm and unyielding. He was clearly surprised by her unfeminine manner. It gave her a trickle of satisfaction. Letting the smile pull a little wider, and thus a little more crooked, to the one side, she released him, arching a brow.
Alice behind her, reaching over to Winifred and retrieving the glass, taking another drink, and arched a brow as well at his blunt statement. They were expecting him to be a little more pompous. Wasn't that the way that his kind was, those religious types? Especially the men in charge and such. Judging on how he was dressed, perfectly for his role that night, wouldn't that be true? Or was he truly an adherent of that doctrine, by chance?
Alice hummed a note of amusement at Estella's correction of her father's behavior. "[font "Times" [#009688 [B Ah, a woman of true grace.]]]" she said, glancing her over appreciatively. Neither had expected the young woman to have come with him. It was a delicious comparison, even for how brief their meeting had been. But they were positive that they would like her very much.
Winifred smiled at Estella as the young woman offered her own hand and removed her own glove. The dark clad brunette in the bowler's hand was cool, her skin tinged just barely ashen, but not as much as Estella's. She arched a brow at her, "[font "Times" [#003300 [B Ah. You must be freezing.]]]" she said, letting her very dark eyes turn up to the young woman, as she had bowed down, sweeping her hand with the glove in it behind herself. "[font "Times" [#003300 [B Come on.]]]" she glanced briefly at Estella's father as she released his daughter's hand and stood straight again. Winifred wasn't a short woman, bringing her glove out and slipping it back on her hand again, flexing her fingers before gesturing for them to follow.
With that she turned and led them down the entrance hall as a laugh rose up from the parlor, echoing behind them as entering the smaller, narrower inner hallway muffled the noise. This hall was carpeted as the rest, muffling their footsteps but the bare creak of the floorboards when and if they did tally their groaning complaint of service. The hall was lined with dark oil portraits of peculiar looking people, or of darkened, curious landscapes overhung generally with trees. There was one aprticularly large painting of the house itself overhung by its trees. There were the sillhouettes of people out and around the property, and inside. In most of the pictures were difficult to tell whether or not it was day or night.
Alice smiled at her, moving close to her down one of the halls as they moved and speaking quietly. "[font "Times" [#009688 [B Isn't it lovely? It's one of the oldest buildings in society. That is why so many architectural details reflect so many different styles.]]]"
"[font "Times" [#009688 [B But to be very honest, the decorating was shared by most. You two are here a little later.]]]" she shrugged a bit and continued walking.
[center [pic https://40.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m9vn4b5TR41roq8wco1_1280.jpg]]
Presently they passed through another long, formal hallway lined with people chatting. Those present were dressed in any number of fashions, and generally in dark garb. Not everyone was in black, but bright colors were rare, often muted, or richly dark and offset by accenting colors. The retaining hall echoed with a slow, waltzing drone of an accordian and a string band, violins and cello that leaked through the doors to the ballroom. Inside that was where Winifred was leading them, who as yet hadn't introduced herself or Alice. Entering into the room was a wash of warmth from the number of bodies moving, doing the Vienna waltz around in a group. The swish of satiny skirts accompanied the rhythmic slide of shoes on grand wood.
Food on tables and groups of people chatting away accompanied the light from the number of chandeliers lit above them, hung with beaded spiderwebby nets of glass beads, glinting lightly with the flicker of the many candles. Winifred gathered her skirts in her hands so she could slip between people and gestured her pair forwards that she was leading. Alice, presently, disappeared.
She then came up to a man with bright, bright red hair who was jovially speaking to another, taller, slender man with blonde hair and a face that resemled lightly siftening wax. Bringing the two towards the man, Winifred tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around. Intelligent blue eyes widened to take in the two and an energetic, joyful smile bloomed across his lips as he took in the Priest.
"[+red By George you've come!]" he said, offering his hand energetically, clasping him in a friendly manner. "[+red Wonderful, wonderful. Dinner will go over swimmingly!]" The man beside him let his gaze sweep over the starch collared man with an arch of a blond brow, brushing his fingers over a thin moustache and turned his gaze to Winifred who took a side role now that the jovial man had come around. She met his gaze and gave him a knowing twitch of a grin, quirking her brow. He returned the smile, laughing quietly to himself.
He smiled, "[+red Henri Hackett, sir. Very good to meet you Mr. ...?]"
[center [pic http://coolspotters.com/files/photos/896814/like-a-virgin-and-moulin-rouge-gallery.jpg]]
Estella had watched the women come down the stairs, she had seem the glances of those people around her.
She had watched as the both of them had giggled at her Father and she could not help but let a smirk pass across her lips. Surely the both of them realised how ridiculous he looked.
What she did take not of, and was sure that her father had not, was the way the brunette took a glove out of her pocket and place it on her hand before taking that of her Father’s and shaking it.
[font “Times” [i “How peculiar..”]] Estella whispered low enough to herself, watching both of the women.
They were pale, the both of them. And oddly different from anyone she had ever seen before. Even the air around them seemed to be more.. Estella struggled to find the word.. Suffocating. Yet not to her, she could breathe just fine.
The Priest, on the other hand, was having a much more difficult time in breathing. He’s palms were sweating as he stiffly shook the brunette’s hand. They did not look much like the type he wanted to associate with. The blonde with the curls was laughing too much and the brunette was dressed in all black, much like her daughter. Black was an unholy colour.
[font “Times” “We graciously accepted, it would be rude not too.”] both he’s gaze and he’s stance was stiff. He did not wish to engage anymore then he had to.
Estella removed her glove out of courtesy before offering the brunette her hand, her manners were beyond sensational she found. Once her hand was returned, she slid the elbow length black glove back over her pale, stone cold skin.
She had listened to her Father’s words. That man had no grace in the way he spoke. He was much too rude, and harsh, for Estella’s liking. She would not be embarrassed in front of the Higher Society. No matter what the consequences would be when she returned home.
[font “Times” [i “I think what my father meant was that it is an honor to receive an invitation to such an exquisite party.”]] she smiled at both of the women, trying to show how appreciative she was of the invitation. Anything to get out of that, ironically enough, Godforsaken house.
The Priest’s head turned to look at he’s daughter, momentarily forgetting that they were in front of company as he shot a look of ice cold disgust towards her.
[font “Times” [i “Might I also add, that this house is beautiful. I have never seen anything quite like it. And the extent that you have gone into decorating it.. It must have been terribly exhausting!”]] she took another moment to take in her surroundings, a small smile playing on the edges of her lips.
Estella focused her attention on the women once more, allowing them to speak and smiling politely. As they requested her Father and herself to follow, she let her hands fall softly her side.
Her back straight, head held high, dress flowing perfectly behind her. She noticed she fit in better then she ever assumed she would.
Her blood red lips parted, blue coal rimmed eyes focusing on the smaller details surrounding her. The way corridors and doors lead off to different areas, the scatter of people around them. The sound of music and laughter, the clinking of glasses with toasts.
She was completely unaware of where they were being lead, but she did not mind. The woman, unlike her father, felt completely relaxed as she wandered through the people.
Estella herself, was a picture of striking beauty with the hint of danger about her. In the right amount of shadows and light, you could swear for a second the woman had eyes as black as Satan’s himself.
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.