Rose Colored Snow (Full!)

[Hatter Coon]

Oliver De'mare

I count down to zero, pull the trigger, no parole
No mercy on your soul

Extending his arm in invitation for her to take it, he offers his apologies. "Forgive me, Madam Vitani. My name's Oliver. I work as a physician for the troops overseas, as well as a personal doctor when I'm back home." The half lie ran smoothly over his tongue, worn into a fine habit by years of use. He had been enlisted multiple times for his services and came back with more than one scar to prove it. The medals proved to be excellent cover up for when he was issued a far more interesting task via the Queen or his father. "There's two wings we can look over at your leisure. I believe my belongings are still in the room I placed them in, at the end of the east wing. Where do you wish to start?"

Movement from the stairs drew his eyes upwards just as Illia plopped herself down onto the first step with a huff, shirt fluttering around bandaged knees. Oliver blinks, tilting his head at the huffy woman-child when she suddenly buried her flushed face into her hands. "Illia. Come join us. I'm assuming you've already explored the residential levels of this place? " The statement, though mildly spoken, was not an invitation. Something told him leaving the girl to her own devices would prove to be an error. She also seemed to have a more in depth knowledge of the layout, which would be helpful for Aidan if not him.

OOC: Short post, sorry. XD
Where: Foyer, near the staircase.
With: Aidan and Illia.

Maelyn

Huggable Overlord Nyx

[T o o t e l e f r o o t]

「 ♫ J U L I A N ─ M A R C E L L I ♪ ↔ Musician ﹁
T H E Y tab S A Y tab W E tab A R E tab W H A T tab W E tab A R E tab ─ tab B U T tab W E tab D O N ' T tab H A V E tab T O tab B E
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"I should be flattered. The bloody queen of England is concerned about my marital status. Me, a low life musician that can't rub two coppers together." Julian laughed with the driver. He just shrugged and laughed as well. Julian chugged down a complimentary bottle of wine that was in the carriage. He'd never been inside a carriage before. It made him uncomfortable so he ended up sitting next to the chauffeur. He had tried fruitlessly to share his wine with the man but he took his job way too seriously. "As time goes by, you'll regret giving it all to your job. Trust me. I might not have wine to share then." the man just laughed and kept driving. Julian decided to drop it "So these girls huh. You've seen any of em'?" the man quirked his lip "Them broads be finer than that bottle of wine you're emptying lad." Julian almost choked on his drink a bit. He'd been so eloquent before. He smiled, relieved and patted his shoulder "Then they must be mighty fine. This wine is no joke, you would know if you'd try some. Bloody Queen of England doesn't skip on expenses."

One empty bottle later, his spirits were lifted and the carriage had arrived at the castle. It was huge and he wondered if this was some sick joke. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten a grand opportunity to have it all been a scheme to crush him. He could hear someone faintly screaming on the inside and had a fleeting thought of leaving, but it wasn't like he had any better offers. The driver helped him with his stuff, he had a lot of musical instruments and little clothes but he didn't care. At least he didn't have to pay rent at that s**t-hole anymore. The driver opened the door and placed his instruments next to the entrance. Julian patted his back in gratitude "Thanks man, here." Julian handed him the unopened bottle of wine and winked "Share it with your wife." It was easy for Julian to bond with others. Everywhere he went, he found friends. Maybe that was the reason depression didn't rule his life. People liked him and he liked people. Well... almost all people but, what are the odds of him ever encountering that person again?

As the driver left, Julian sucked in a breath. "Honey, I'm home!" he said in a loud voice jokingly. The place was too good to be true. But first things first; he needed to get all his belongings to his new bedroom. He took his little bag and then juggled his instruments the best way he could.

A few steps from the entrance, he saw three people heading somewhere. There was one man and two girls. "H-Hey there. I'm the newest addition." he couldn't see them well over his instruments. He tried to move and the gesture almost made everything fall on top of the girl with the weak knees. Luckily, he caught it in time. "Whoa. Close call. Uhm...let me just set this down here." he placed his things aside and sighed. He could breathe again. He smiled warmly "Much better." and he meant it. The chauffeur wasn't lying when he spoke of the girl's appearance. One had long lashes that probably fanned her cheeks with dark sensous lips and the other had bright amber eyes and the most angelical features he'd ever seen. The last one seemed to be in a bad mood. He smiled at them nonetheless, knowing full well never to bring attention to bad things when it came to women... and also not to make physical contact unless you wanted to lose a hand. "I'm Julian. Are there any good rooms left, by any chance? Or am I too late?" It was a big place and he didn't want to wander aimlessly with all his stuff. He didn't want to bother them either if they were going someplace... he could bother them later after he settled in.


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I ' M tab B A D tab B E H A V I O R tab B U T tab I tab D O tab I T tab I N tab T H E tab B E S T tab W A Y . . . ♬ ♩ ♭

[SUDO SANDWICH]

Well, love was kind for a time x o x o Now just aches and it makes me blind x o x o x o

No. Ikaia imagined his mouth speaking, as he found himself silent as Illia left, and Mira took her place. Was he alright? His heart was filled with pain. Pain that this world had left in him. And his brothers, and stole his eldest from him. And then his family; his fiancee and his unborn child. And then his mother. But he lived, with this poison in his heart, fighting it every day. He was still sick. Sick with hatred for the people who'd hated each other enough to cause the war, burning the lands and sickening its soil. Jealousy filled him, for those who'd lost much less than he had, and greed, for wanting it all back. He was poisoned too. But he'd wanted his cure and salvation of his still suffering people, despite his grandmother's efforts. He wanted them return to their joy and happiness with everything he had, so that he could too. It's what Lenore had wanted. Alright for him, was touring the hospitals once a week to thank the still wounded and dying for their service to the crown, and sympathizing their pain. They fought for his grandmother, his father... For him. Alright was helping his father pass food out to the poorest in the streets, and watching their eyes alight with joy at the smallest piece of bread, that often seemed like his leftover on his plates. Alright was the time before. He was alright before. Now, he'd... He'd been lost. His mother's final words the only thing to push him forward. To keep him strong enough to stand tall in his father's shadow, and step into his own light to share with his people.
'Heal your people, my love, for they are broken. Guide them from this darkness. In it's shadow they are miserable. Repay the debts we owe to the Gods and believe in them, my son. Love them, and love your people. Lenore is with them now, and she will watch over you. Should you ever need guidance, just think of her. She will be your salvation.'
Heal. Everything kept telling him that. But how? He'd already forgiven himself for not being well enough to save Lenore. He still had so much on his shoulders; he didn't know where to start. Shoulders, the same one's that Lillian had so boldly wrapped her arms around, and planted a kiss upon his lips. A kiss lacking any sign of love or sexual desire, as she admitted herself. It twisted his mind and upset his heart. He'd grown up so differently than she had. Manners and etiquette were what filled his days, and she'd committed so many faux pas in so few seconds it made Ikaia uncomfortable still, only to think of it. Shows of affection were reserved for private quarters, and touchings forbidden unless it was shaking of hands, or the like. Ikaia regretted his luxury of proper manners here in this place, where he was jealous of what he saw and understood to be 'normal'. His life was so vastly different from any of theirs. Many of them that he'd met so far seemed to be of the lower class, bless their souls. Ikaia found that he'd liked them much more so for their mannerisms than his social peers, and suddenly felt like he was born to the wrong family, as much as he loved his own. He idolized his father, and his elder brother before his death, and his mother was a pure saint. But the question still stood.
"Mira. You have a very pretty name, and you're kind and humorous at the same time. You're the first to ask about my well being since... My family died." Ikaia finally spoke, realizing he'd been silent as she kindly cleaned the broken porcelain.
"The pleasure is mine," he started, staring at the cooling tea, "as would it be if you joined me?" he asked, wondering where Illia could have gone, his thoughts distancing themselves from the past, to the present. He'd touched a nerve with Illia, asking about that mark. It was most certainly a horrible memory for her. Ikaia would have done the same, had she asked about his family.
But her mind wasn't in the right place because of his ignorance. His social skills only seemed to worsen everything every time he opened his mouth. Ikaia felt a sort of compulsion to find her, and make sure she was alright, but part of him told him to leave her be, before he made it worse. It was rather hard to cut yourself on porcelain, unless of course, she'd done it... purposefully? This was deeper than he could see, and he knew it was deeper than that still. Ikaia decided it may be best left alone.
"I'm going to head back to my room to retire for the night. I've been awake for a little too long, and it's been exhausting for my psyche. I feel as though I've gone along a washboard today. I was hoping you could accompany me as I walked?" Ikaia played a forced smile across his lips, praying it wasn't too horribly obvious, and that she hadn't taken his words inappropriately. He would have, and was continuously kicking himself for his lack of sociability. Regret for the way he'd lived his life was settling in hard, but the thought had never crossed his mind that he'd lose Lenore.
Now he swam in the largest sea after his life shipwrecked, and there was no land in sight.



x o x o But do not ask the drice I daid x o x o I must live with mu duiet rade
x o x o But do not ask the price I paid x o x o I must live with my quiet rage


OOC:: Geez, three days later. haha
Kitchen
Mira

[Queen_No]

xxxxxＣＨＡＲＬＥＳ ＮＯＢＬＥxxxxx
Tнe Aυтнor

Because of his actions, Charles had a feeling he had made everything awkward between them. They were both strangers. Lillian had no reason to share her sad story to him. It all came from his question about her admiration about his books. She wanted to show the reason where her admiration had began, but it got so emotional that Charles couldn't just ignore her words. Now that he thought about it. There was a time in his travels when he had met a man with almost the same kind of story as Lillian. Charles and this man had shared drink in his hotel room. He didn't know if it was just a coincidence. Overall, he had this deep desire to let her know that she wasn't alone in this world. His heart felt heavy as he saw how she was holding in her tears. It was clear she was having a hard time right. And it was soon confirm when she asked to be alone. Charles was conflicted by it. He wanted to please Lillian, but in his heart, he felt that she shouldn't be left alone. After so much debate between his brain and his heart, he had decided. "Don't be hard on yourself. I bet there's no ugly side of you." He said with a smile. He didn't like how low was her self-esteem. He planned to change that eventually. "But I'll leave because I have made it awkward for you and I don't wish to make it difficult for you." He explained as he wanted her to know the real reason of why he was going to leave her side. Charles stood from his chair and gracefully bow to Lillian in respect. "I bid you good night." Then he quietly left her room and gently closed her door behind him.

[Maelyn]

★Thoughts►Ah so cute.. Ugh, WHAT AM I SAYING?!!
★Where► Going up the stairs.
★With ►Oliver, Aiden, Julian
★Outfit► Maid outfit
★Music ♫ ►EKLIPSE - Wonderful Life
★Doing ►Going to her room.
★Out of the Cold►

yum_cupcake

Illia still stewed on the steps, thinking of how much she was starting to detest someone she had just met. She found it hard to believe, because of how sweet-natured she is. “I will just not talk to him..ever!” She thought, before hearing a voice call to her. She shyly looked up from behind her hands, feeling a little like she had been caught doing something wrong. She was actually glad to see Oliver standing there, along with Miss. Vitani. She was about to answer him, but was cut off by the sound of the front door.

The front door?! It was locked before when Lillian had tried to get out, and now it opened for someone. Illia perked up some to see who it was, and soon a man with a lot of instruments came walking over to them. Illia quickly jumped up, as he almost dropped them on her head. It hurt her knees a bit to move that fast, but she ignored it. The medicine that Max put on her, had really helped a lot. She gritted her teeth for a moment, as he once again popped back into her head. She pushed the thoughts away, and smiled at the stranger.

He sat down the instruments, and Illia slightly blushed. He had such a handsome face, that it cause s flutter in her tummy
."I'm Julian. Are there any good rooms left, by any chance? Or am I too late?"
She cleared her throat a bit, before look back over to him. “It's nice to meet you. My name is Illia, and um..as for your room.” She pointed down to his belongings, only they seemed to be missing now. “I believe the castle has already put them away for you.” She couldn't help but giggle a little bit. “ I know it sounds crazy, but do you believe in magic?” She could only give him a warm smile now.

“I am just assuming here, but I would guess that your things will be near the music room.” She said, glancing back up the stairs. It was true that she had most of the layout of the castle down. It was her job to know the layout of the houses she would be working in. So here it really wasn't any different. Illia looked back to Oliver, and Aiden “ Maybe I could take you up on that offer some other time,Oliver. It is way past my bedtime, and I feel I have had enough excitement for one day. “ She gave them a small bow of her head. It felt a bit awkward to be speaking to Oliver again. The last memory she had of him, wasn't really a pleasant one. “ If you would like, Julian. I can show you where the music room is. I pass it on the way to my room.” With that said, Illia turned and started to make her way on up the stairs.

xXTengokuXx

SUDO SANDWICH

The Godzilla Threshold

[Amelia Graywaters]

Night had fallen and soon, one by one, the candles, lamps and fires dwindled down until there was nothing but darkness throughout the entire castle.
Hours passed as it fell into silence, but soon the sounds of birds chirping brought life and the promise of a new day. As the sun began to rise, so did what was left of the dust that covered every inch of the inside and soon, there was no trace that there had ever been any dirt, dust or other undesirables. The paint chips that littered the floor did the same, finding their places onto the wall until it was flawless. The paintings remained broken however, still torn and unrecognizable. As the fall wind blew, the tension in the air lifted and the doors and windows unlocked themselves. Baths filled with clean and warm water, towels seemed to appear out of nowhere like magic, crisp and folded as did many other things that one might need to live comfortably.

[Amelia Graywaters]

My only escape...

Lillian Harrington
The Heiress



Part of her hadn’t wanted Charles to leave her that night yet another part of her did. She was fine with company.. But their talk, her story… had put her in a place she didn’t know she could find herself anymore.

Lillian sat in bed, her hair a complele mess and her white silk nightdress in wrinkles. She had nothing but nightmares all night long and the dark circles under her eyes was clear proof of the lack of sleep she had gotten. “Marie!” Lillian called out, still half asleep. “Marie!!” she called out again, but soon, a frown turned her lips upsidedown as she realized she was not in her room at her home but in a castle.. Mysterious as any place in a fairytale’s land.

“Oh, that’s right… She isn’t here…” Lillian whispered to herself, her head dropping down and her blue eyes looking into the palms of her hands. She was a mess and she knew that without the help of others, she was practically useless. Who would fix her hair? Who would draw her baths and cook her meals? Wash her clothes and help her dress?
Only the night before had she struggles to untie her own corset so she could change.

Pulling the blankets off of her and to the slide, Lillian slid her feet onto the cold, wooden floor. With a light sigh, she stood and walked over to where her vanity was, taking in her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was everywhere. Curls in one section, straight in another. She would have probably terrified her own mother with her splotchy skin tone and dark eyes.
Such a sight had reminded her of Paris and the darker times in her life.

“Washroom.. I need to find one..” she thought to herself, reaching her hands up to try and fix whatever she could.
Oh, if someone were to have found her looking like this... The shame...

Looking around the room, she noticed a white door, one she hadn’t seen before. Walking towards it, she took hold of the silvery knob and gave it a twist.

The room was large and spacious with a comfy looking sofa and raised up near the back of the room sat a claw footed tub, steam rolling off the top of it’s contents. To the side was a large dresser with oils, soaps and towels lining the top of it.
Her eyes widened and she looked around the room. Had that woman, Illia, come in to do this? Had she been so gracious enough to know that she wouldn't be able to draw her own bath?
Lillian made a mental note to ask her later.

Without another thought, she stepped inside the room, closed the door behind her and began to untie the bow ontop of her nightdress. It slid to the floor with ease and Lillian stepped out of the bunched up fabric and walked towards the bathtub. She reached down, leaning over the warm porcelain to test the water. It was a perfect temperature. Without another moment's haste, she climbed inside and slid down into the water.

It was like a dream. The oils made her skin feel so soft and had a light scent of roses to it. She couldn't help but sink further until only the top half of her face was visible. On occasion, she would slip one leg out and then the other, almost like a silly, childish game. It was then she had noticed something... the room, there was not a single speck of dust anywhere. Infact, as she thought back to it all, her own room had been rather clean, much more so then it was yesterday.

It gave her the shivers, despite being immersed in such warm water.

The time seemed to tick away as she enjoyed her bath but her skin was soon becoming wrinkled and the water was losing it's warmth.

It didn't take her long to climb out of the bath, walk over to the long dresser and take one of the folded towels that lay neatly piled ontop of it. She started with her hair, drying as much as she could before padding down her body. Now, standing infront of a long mirror, she looked back at her own reflection. Her hair no longer held it's usual curls and laid flat, plastering itself against her soft skin. With a sigh, she reached up and took hold of a small stand, examining it. "I liked the curls..." she spoke with a pout, but there was nothing she could do. Even with the many times her maid had pinned up and tied her hair, Lillian had never thought once to watch her. No... she had been much too concerned with other things her entire life.

Without a care, she made her way back to her own room, leaving her night clothes and a wet towel behind on the floor. She would have to manage to get herself dressed and go and find something to eat. Ah, the thought of having to cook her own breakfast was enough to give her a headache.

Nearly an hour had passed by before she was wandering down the hallway, rather pleased with herself that she had managed to get dressed with just a tad bit of difficulty. Lillian had decided to wear the one dress her mother hated, mainly because the black jacket had been an altered men's jacket that she simply had to have. Her mother had never been so appalled, but in Paris, dressing like this was rather accepted. Times were changing and even woman were wearing pants now!
No, she wasn't that adventurous with her own fashion, but she admired those woman for changing the norm.

Making her way down the staircase and back into the main entrance way, Lillian stopped and looked around. She was so puzzled as to where anything was at. "Now.. if I were a kitchen... where would I be?" she asked aloud, lifting her hand to tap the bottom of her chin with an outstretched finger.

Is between the pages of this book....

[TenoutofTen]

...The night is long and the path is dark

【where】Barbican>>>Kitchen
【with】No one

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
ℳ A X W E L L ☸ Θ S T R A T H

тнє B U T L E R XXXXXXX

Maxwell had been up long before the sun crested the horizon and the birds began to greet the morning with their songs. The night before, after he had thrown Illia out, he had gone back to making his plans until even the evening bugs finished chirping. Despite the lack of sleep he had gotten, as always, he had woken up long before he needed too. A habit perhaps. Both as a butler and an assassin he found he could always get the most work done in the early mornings.

What really had woken him up however was a change of smell in his room. He woke slowly with much effort to pry himself from the mountain of pillows. Lifting his head from bliss he groggily looked around the strange room. It took him awhile to remember exactly were he was and why. Normally it would have caused him to go on high alert being in a strange place in the morning but something kept him from lashing out. As he turned from his belly and sat in the bed, his look rather disheveled and careless, he felt rather blank.

For once he did not have nightmares nor night terrors.

For as long as he could remember they plagued him even though he did his best to hide it. Sleep was often a terrifying time for him. Being vulnerable was terrifying. Waking to someone hovering over you whilst wielding a dagger was terrifying. His hand instinctively went down to trace the large jagged scar that zigzagged across his ribs and grew thick at his gut. After it happened he never killed someone in their sleep. Rather he turned to poisons of both fast and slow acting varieties. His brothers and sisters often teased him for becoming sentimental and soft. He found nothing soft about poison.

When he finally pried himself out of bed he found the source of the strange smell. It was the bath in his room. A small tub only big enough for one person. It was full and still steaming. He tried his best not to question it. While the idea of someone being in his room while he was sleeping was disturbing, what was more disturbing, was the possibility no one was.

Once he was clean and moderately dry he got dressed. Instead of getting into his normal stuffy clothes he just wore a white shirt and dark blue tailored pants. Feeling a bit of a chill from the fall morning air he also pulled a pale yellow cotton vest with two thick red stripes bordering the v-necked collar over his head. Smoothing out the fabric he rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbow and pressed them smoothly before heading out into the dimly lit halls as he tied his swords to his hip.

A few hours had passed before he found himself in the kitchen. It had been his destination but he took quite a long side trip to explore the castle. He quickly discovered the doors to the exterior were now open and that the castle itself was cleaner again. If it kept going this way there would be no need for him to do any maintenance on the grounds. So of course this made him restless. He was someone who always needed to be doing something or he would become rather irritated. Being left alone with ones thoughts was not always a good thing.

With the sun finally starting to shine though the kitchen windows he sighed.
" Breakfast then." He said to himself as he stood in the middle of the floor, wondering what exactly to make. The kitchen had everything and as such he could make anything he wanted. " Perhaps Eggs Benedict, hash-browns and a fruit salad?" Stroking his chin he nodded silently to himself.

First he started on the Hollandaise sauce quietly whisking the egg yolks with expert precision. Eventually adding butter and various spices. Next came the thinly sliced ham which he sizzled on a pan until fully cooked and tender brown. As the ham cooked he quickly chopped a large bag of potatoes into bite sized pieces before putting them on a greased tray and putting them all on different levels in the large oven. Returning to the ham he slipped the slices onto a plate and placed them in a warmer. While the hash-browns cooked he took the time to chop up the fruit for the salad. Apples, grapes, kiwi, mango, pineapple, banana and even pieced and cored some lychee nuts. Wrapping the large bowl he put it in a cold room to chill while he went into the oven and rotated the potatoes, sprinkling them with some sea salt and dill. After that he broke more eggs and left them to broil as he went to get some honey and thinned it with water. Afterward he crushed some mint leaves and juiced a lime for the dressing. Finally when the eggs and hash-browns were finished he put it all into a warmer before cutting some bagels and putting them in the oven to slowly toast

Sighing with satisfaction he set a pot of water on the oven to boil as he took out all of the pots of tea leave. Opening each and smelling them, finding the one that would best compliment the time of day and food. Putting the rest away be poured some boiling water into a large tea pot. Turning down the oven to just warm he put the hash-browns, hollandaise sauce, and eggs in to keep them fresh, warm and ready to be served whenever someone arrived.

Sitting on a stool he poured himself some of the freshly brewed tea and leaned on the counter, gazing out the window. Holding the cup to his lips he breathed the fresh scent feeling rather at peace with himself at the moment. I was quite nice, not having to serve anyone and doing whatever he liked. While he still made more than enough for everyone he did it because he wanted to not because he was ordered to. Indeed he could really come to like this place, even for all of its oddities.

Steel your heart, the dawn will come...

[Amelia Graywaters]

My only escape...

Lillian Harrington
The Heiress






Although she hadn’t known where she was going, finding the kitchen wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. She just had to follow the wonderful smells that were traveling down the winding hallways. Coming to a door, she pushed it open and found herself un such unfamiliar territory, but what the really shocking thing was, was that she was not alone in the kitchen. A very familiar, disagreeable man was there. She did not know his name, nor could she remember if he had mentioned it before he had begun ti argue with her. Still, even infront of such a man, she felt so self conscious as she did not look her normal self. “Is it alright for me to be in here?” she asked, not so much for permission, but because it was early and she did not wish to argue with this man again… even if that meant she wasn’t going to be able to eat.

The smells were so delightful however, it made her stomach turn in pain, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast the previous day. Lillian tried to stay strong though. She wouldn’t concede to such things! She had to remain proud and show she wasn’t afraid, not infront of this man, but then again, she was only human and faintly, her stomach let out a growl.

Quickly, she placed her hand on her stomach, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment as she looked away from the man and over to the white wall beside her. “Stupid.. Stupid.. Stupid..” she repeated in her head over and over as she closed her eyes for a brief moment.

Lillian wanted to just turn and leave. Maybe save some kind of face, but then to do so after making such a sound! Oh, she could only pray that he hadn't heard... Oh! It would have been a miracle if he hadn't heard such a thing in that kitchen... but she knew better then to hang all her hopes on that.
No, it had happened and well... there wasn't much she could do about it at this point.
Still in the doorway, one hand placed upon the open door and the other falling from her stomach, she looked at the man before her.

Is between the pages of this book....

[TenoutofTen]

...The night is long and the path is dark

【where】Kitchen
【with】Lillian

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
ℳ A X W E L L ☸ Θ S T R A T H

тнє B U T L E R XXXXXXX

Maxwell was just reaching the bottom of his first cup of tea when the first activity of the day appeared in the doorway. Glancing up from watching the loose tea leaves at the bottom of his cup with a rather tranquil expression he smiled lightly.
" Of course. Please sit." He said holding his hand out towards a chair by the small table in the room. While it was not the dining table it would probably be less lonely to sit at a small table than a large one. Looking away he enjoyed the last sip of his tea before he got up to wash his hands when he heard the woman's stomach growl loudly.

Taking a cloth he opened the oven and pulled out the hot plates of breakfast one by one and placing them on the counter. First he scrutinized it all thoroughly through his tangled mess of hair. Annoyed he pulled an elastic from his pocket and pulled back his bangs, tying them on top of his head and out of the way. Satisfied he went back to preparing a plate for the woman. Starting first with the Eggs Benedict he put the freshly toasted bagel, buttered lightly, then the ham followed by the poached egg. Next he put a small portion of the hash-browns next to the Benedict. Striding to the cold room he took a container of cottage cheese over to the plate. Using a small glass bowl he scoops a bit of the cheese into the bowl and placed it on the plate beside the Benedict and the hash-browns. Finally he sprinkled a small amount of salt and pepper of the hash-browns and cottage cheese and topped it off by pouring a liberal amount of hollandaise sauce on the Benedict. Finishing it all with a bit of garland.

Once he was pleased with it he picked up the plate and took it to where ever she decided to sit. Placing the plate before he placed some basic cutlery beside her plate, not really caring for all the formality that she would be use to. Without a word he turned and returned to the counter taking another teacup from the cupboard. Deciding to let the tea brew for a bit longer he went to the cold room and brought out the fruit salad. Using another small bowl he scooped a bit of salad into it, drizzling the citrus mint dressing onto into the little bowl. Putting the bowl, tea pot, cups, sugar and cream onto a tray he returned to the woman.

Placing a cup and the bowl of fruit salad in front of her he poured some tea for her. Gesturing to the sugar and cream he invited her to help herself before sitting down at the table opposite of her. Pouring himself another cup of tea he reclined in the chair casually. Watching the woman for a moment his gaze drifted off to the window and soon his expression was of one that was looking far away. One could even call it a daze.

Steel your heart, the dawn will come...

[Amelia Graywaters]

My only escape...

Lillian Harrington
The Heiress




Lillian was more then confused by this man. Had he not been such a rude thing last night, she may have found herself comforted by his company, yet instead, she was unsure of how to handle herself infront of him.
“Thank you.” she simply replied, walking over towards the small table as the door behind her closed softly now that she was no longer holding it open.
She had decided to sit where she would have sat back home, near the end, on the right side. Quietly, she pulled out her own chair and sat down, watching as the man went to work, fixing up a plate. Ah, the smells were so delightful. She couldn’t help but close her eyes and take it in.

Never before had she eaten in a kitchen. Infact, only a handful of times had she ever been in one since they all resulted in her mother screaming her head off at her. Now that she had the chance to, she looked around, taking in all the new sights before her. It was amazing to think that all these things, like the stove especially, were all created by man. Oh, how far had they come as a society. It was very remarkable.

Soon however, she was brought back as the man placed a plate infront of her and then some silverware. Still, he was not done as a bowl of fruit salad and a tea with little pots of sugar and milk were added.

It was remarkable that this man alone, had made such a feast by himself. She was so astonished and could only stare at him as he sat across the table from her.
“You are very talented…” she couldn’t help but say, not really wanting to praise him but knowing that it was due for such a feat. In her own home, cooking was done by many women. She couldn’t even imagine making something like this on her own… or even a pot of tea for that matter.
“Perhaps he’s not such a bad man….” her thoughts carried her away as she looked down at the delicious plate of food.

Taking hold of the white napkin, she unfolded the fabric and placed it neatly on her lap before picking up a knife in one hand and a fork in the other and started in on her food.

Despite being so hungry, she took small and dainty bites. She was brought up to do so and that was a habit she was unwilling to change, even here. Besides, she had embarrassed herself already this morning and did not wish to continue her shame.

Everything was cooked perfectly. She could not complain about a single thing. Part of her wanted to ask his name, yet the other part took notice of the silence that had fallen in the kitchen. He was a strange man… a strange man indeed.
Setting her knife and fork down gently, she reached over to the small pot of milk and gracefully poured it onto her cup of tea. She had not been one for sweets although a bit of chocolate every now and then was quite enjoyable.
Satisfied with the amount, she placed the small pot back down and firmly gripped the small saucer her teacup laid upon. The dark tea was now a rich, creamy color as she took hold of the handle and brought the cup to her lips, tasting the tea and finding it even more delightful then the kind served back home.

“Oh…” the word escaped her mouth. “This is very delicious… “
Setting her cup back down, Lillian picked her fork and knife back up but gave a moment’s pause as she looked across the table at the man.

“I’m sorry… I fear that I am here, eating the food and drinking the tea you have made, and I don’t even know your name. I know we might have started off rather poorly…. But since we will both be stuck here for awhile, I would like to try and mend that. My name is Lillian.. Could you perhaps, tell me yours? I would like to thank you properly for this meal.”

Is between the pages of this book....

[Hatter Coon]

Oliver De'mare

I count down to zero, pull the trigger, no parole
No mercy on your soul

The room was quiet as the sun slowly rose to send questing tendrils of light through the open windows. They highlighted a messy, but utterly abandoned bed with orange flecks that seemed to playfully chase after one another while time passed. Soft breathing gave away the position of the room's sole occupant. Oliver, hair free from it's braiding and torso bare to the early morning, sat in a meditative doze in front of the fire. He didn't stir when the sun finally found him, too deep in his odd sleep to be awakened by those trivial means. In...Out... In... Out... The fire crackled to life at the castle's demand, jolting the tall man to consciousness. Thick eyelashes parted to reveal the near black irises beneath as Oliver tried in vain to remember when he had moved from the oddly comfortable furniture and lightened to their usual green when he cursed. Of course he couldn't remember. Of all the life threatening things to happen in his sleep, it had to be the fact that he wandered around while unconscious. Hoping against all hope that none of the others had seen him in that vulnerable state, Oliver rose to go through the morning's processes.

Thirty minutes later, he shaved the last bit of cream off his face and ran a hand over his face. Travel had made him forget the scruff that grew into a short beard over a period of a few days. Thankfully, one of his sibling's must have remembered his habit and sneaked a shaving kit into his bag. Smiling faintly at the image of his sisters tiptoeing their way around the house to make sure he hadn't forgotten something. They were a herd of overprotective hens that constantly bullied any male member of their family save for their father. He wouldn't trade them for the world. Tucking the long black braid into his collar, Oliver reached for a pair of moccasins he acquired on a recent visit to his mother's family and tugged them on. Time for an adventure.

The kitchens proved to be already occupied, much to his surprise. The two people whom had been at each other's throats the night previous were settled quietly at the table sipping tea and eating breakfast. "Good morning...", he hummed, careful not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. Spotting a bowl of fresh clementines, Oliver helped himself to several of the tiny oranges and slipped away. He could never get into the habit of eating more than fruit or other light food stuffs in the mornings, product of a boyhood spent running barefoot among orchards and forests.

Where: Kitchens
With: Lillian and Maxwell
OOC: Food first, then adventure. c:

[Riichaaan]

SUDO SANDWICH

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To be able to sleep in an unfamiliar place such as this came as a surprise for Mira when she woke up only for the feeling to diminish as she sank deeper into her cozy bed. The room she was sleeping in seemed both familiar and unfamiliar to her. It was like there's this nostalgic feeling stirring deep within her as she rolled over the blanket draped above her. I could get used to this, she thought. Her arms wound themselves into one of the pillows cluttered around her, pulling it closer to her person. Mira was so absorbed in her dreamy state, not even the melodic singing of the feathered creatures perched outside her window could disturb her. But the feeling soon left when she finally gained full consciousness.

She sat up the bed and searched for the brush she deliberately left beside her.

Mira was never an elegant riser. For some unknown reasons, she would sometimes wake up on the other side of the bed with her legs all tangled up with the blanket while a pillow or two would be kicked out of the bed. Combined with her monstrosity of a bed hair, she was an eyesore to wake up too.

After taming her hair, she proceed to what she hoped would be a clean washroom. Imagine the delight she felt when she opened the door.

Her change of clothes consisted of a simple blue dress her mother bought her a few months ago. After that, she found herself curiously rummaging the dresser she supposedly owns now for anything odd. It would appear that someone moved her clothes from her suitcase to the dresser and Mira couldn't help but laugh when she realized that most of her clothes were blue. Blue has always been Mira’s favorite color; like the sky, it has a calming and soothing effect to the observer, yet mysterious and enigmatic, like the deep sea, she once had the fortune to sail. She just didn’t expect to own that many blue dresses. No wonder her mother once called her The Blue Lady.

Her mother was truly a lively and an amusing woman. She felt lucky to be adopted by her family. It was sad to think a person could lose so many loved ones all at the same time. She commends Ikaia, the young man she talked to last night for being strong after all those time. If it were her in his shoes… Mira could already see her sight dimming as she imagined her parents dying. She will seek blood to anyone who tries to hurt her family. Whether they are ethereal or not, I will have blood.

Speaking of Ikaia, she remembered asking him if they could have breakfast together. She rushed out of her own room and went over to Ikaia’s door. She knocked about three times before leaning into the wall opposite the door while contemplating on whether she should surprise him on his way out or not.

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[Eternally Gone]

The night had proved a dull one for the Captain, as she had wandered around the castle alone until she grew tired. It had been years since she had been on land for so long, she forgot how tiresome walking was. As she had walked, Noriel could hear the delicate conversations going on around her, but she never intruded. She was wondering exactly what in the hell the Queen of England was planning to do with her while she was here. Was the old broad trying to teach her a lesson? As far as Noriel was concerned, that damned Royal Navy couldn’t do anything, and she was out protecting the coast from other bandits, yet the Navy got all the credit. That was fine – she would get her come-uppance.

When she had finally gone to a room that had felt like it was calling out to her, she found a simple bed, and an armoire filled with clothes she would have found appropriate. In fact, the bed was much like hers aboard ship, and in no time, she was asleep. To her, it even felt like the bed was rocking gently, as if waves were lulling her to sleep. The things she had been thinking of during her walk around the castle halls no longer plagued her mind.

In the morning, she was awoken by a stream of light pouring through a slit in the curtains. Had she closed the curtains last night? She couldn’t remember. As she lay in her bed a familiar scent, her scent, was coming from somewhere in the room. Getting out of bed, she followed it to the bathroom, where a warm bath had been drawn for her. Did someone draw the bath for her? There were no maids that she could recall seeing, except one of the chosen women selected to come here. That girl wouldn’t have come into the room would she? They barely knew each other. Shrugging, Noriel sunk into the hot water and immediately sighed in comfort. The water was also laced with the smell – Sandalwood. It was her signature scent; her enemies knew it well.

Having been in the bath for almost an hour, Noriel decided that she could not waste her entire day in there. How long had it been since she’d had a proper relaxing bath? Far too long, she decided, and would bring this up with her men the next time she saw them. She would be treating them to the bathhouse far more often. As she picked her towel off the rack, she dried properly, and wrapped her towel around her body, returning to the armoire. Inside were corsets, billowy shirts, leather pants, and a variant of leather tall boots. Starting with her undergarments, then pants and boots, Noriel decided to forego an undershirt. If anyone questioned her clothing choices, she would shrug it off with the ‘I’m a pirate’ line. She wrapped the green and black corset around her and fastened it starting at the bottom. Feeling her laces, she began pulling and tightening them. She was grateful that her mother had taught her how to do this; being on a ship with twenty men who did not understand the delicacies of womanhood taught her much independence. Once she was laced up, she donned her octopus jewelry – something her men had given her after her first successful brigade against an enemy pirate ship. Fixing her hair and applying cosmetics, she was ready to embrace the day.

The house was quiet for the most part, and now completely dust free, she noticed. Having discovered the kitchen last night on her meandering, she felt confident walking into it. Familiar faces, well two of them, were occupying the kitchen along with the gentleman from last night who had spoken so brashly to Lillian. He had moxie, and Noriel respected that. “Good Morning, lovelies,” She said smiling to them all. She didn’t want to intrude on any prior conversations that might have been going on, and spying Oliver with fruit in his hands, she agreed that was the best choice for breakfast. She winked at Lillian as she too grabbed several pieces of fruit – not just the tiny oranges, but an apple, two bananas, and a cluster of grapes. Fruit did not keep well on a ship, and was like a tiny treasure to her. When they were in port, she ate it as much as she could, before returning to a ship filled with mostly meat and some hard cheeses.

Unsure of what the day would bring her, she stayed quiet in a corner of the kitchen, eating her breakfast and thinking of what she would do afterwards. Her personality was not acclimated for indoor use, so she was thinking she would wander the grounds today. In her room, she had discovered the windows were unlocked – the doors had to be unlocked as well. She had also heard a new voice come in late last night, so perhaps they had a newcomer? Noriel was curious what he was like, and of course, what he looked like. While romance was never truly on her mind, she didn’t mind looking.

Where: Her Room > Kitchen | With: No One > Lillian, Oliver, and the man from last night | Wearing: Sassy Pirate | OOC: Sorry it's so long! I am making up for the lack of posting.

Hatter Coon

Amelia Graywaters

TenoutofTen

[TenoutofTen]

...The night is long and the path is dark

【where】Kitchen >>> Courtyard
【with】Lillian, Oliver, Noriel >>> No one

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ℳ A X W E L L ☸ Θ S T R A T H

тнє B U T L E R XXXXXXX

Unfortunately it seemed Maxwell's peaceful state of mind was not to last. While he held a half smile on his face as Lillian praised him for his cooking and she tried to make peace with him for the night before. It was not as if he had a problem with her to begin with and had no intention to hold a grudge over something so petty. Still it was mature of her and quite unlike a noble lady to care about a servant as a person and not a tool.

" In all honesty," Placing the cup back on its saucer he ran his finger along the lip, catching any tea that dared to stray. " I had completely forgotten about it." Placing his finger in his mouth his gaze drifted to the arrival of a man. Oliver if he recalled correctly. The one that had been giving him some distrustful gazes. The man was likely more than he seemed, just as Maxwell was.

Almost as soon as the man opened his mouth Maxwell was annoyed. How could he take unprepared fruit when there was a large bowl of prepared fruit just sitting there? It was extremely wasteful and if there was one thing Maxwell hated it was wastefulness. It was not only Oliver apparently. A woman entered, he had only seen her briefly the evening before, and she too went and took unprepared fruit when the fruit salad was sitting right there. A rather unladylike amount of it too. It was not like it was that they didn't eat his food that had him so angry. He was not as shallow as that. People had different tastes and he knew it well.

Nonetheless Maxwell felt bristled.

Tearing his eyes from the two disrespectful pieces of trash in the kitchen his cold gaze returned to Lillian.
" Maxwell," He growled. " My name is Maxwell Ostrath. A pleasure to formally meet your acquaintance Lillian." And he finished at that. Getting up from the table he took his tea cup and saucer to the sink and was out the door before Lillian could respond or even nothing to greet the other two.

Soon Maxwell found himself outside in the clean, crisp morning air. His gaze drifted around the courtyard taking notice on just how different everything was from when he arrived. The lawn and hedged were trim, not a weed to be seen but the flowers all were beginning to wilt with the morning frost biting at their petals. The trees as well. Occasionally a leaf would fall and gracefully float to the ground but they were all still quite lush and vibrant. It was enough to cool his temper somewhat.

Finding his way into an alcove Maxwell pulled his vest over his head followed by him unbuttoning and removing his shirt. Folding them both up nicely he placed them on a bench. Pulling one of his swords from it sheathe he held it parallel to his eye. Checking for any debris or imperfections, which there never was, he inhaled deeply. He feet put themselves habitually into his usual stance. He stood there completely still for some time before he started moving again. Slow at first, warming up his body before he finally and suddenly switched into full gear.

His strikes were a blur of controlled motion attacking invisible enemies with every intent to kill. The muscles in his body gleamed prominently with each stroke of his blade and every calculated pause. Normally his form was rather sooth much like his middle eastern side; frail, smooth, nearly hairless skin covering a sinewy build. However his European side was also very obvious. His skin was dark but his shoulders surprisingly broad and chest deep. It was a rather strange looking mix but rather potent. European men were usually large, bulky and rather slow moving while middle eastern men were fast yet frail. Maxwell was a good balance of the two; small and fast yet still strong and solid enough to not be pushed around.

Steel your heart, the dawn will come...