【 F l y. A w a y. M u r d e r 】Literate || O/A

Anyone who hasn't posted yet, will be deleted Monday at 6pm.

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Total Votes:			[ 13 ]

[`MaliceMizer]

ӍᎪᏞᏦᏌ✝Ꮋ
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“Feeling pleasant today. That can't mean well.

Few Maquedors approached him with their plans of the night ready for approval. Malkuth easily gave them permission to carry them out as he made his way to the kitchen. He arrived a minute or so after the tea-time chime had sounded, swiftly moving to the table with a soft tap of his cane against the leg of a chair. Passing his polished, straight black cane to his other hand he pulled the chair out. Standing behind it with one hand on the back, his other hand motioned to it for the lady of the room - who was never to be missing from the room during this time - to be seated.

"Your chair, my Lady," the Father acknowledged. He waited for the slightest movement of the air, the twitch of the chair, the quiet sound of fabric moving to indicate that his Lady had taken upon his chivalrous offer. Once she was seated, it was a smooth push towards the table and he sought his own chair, roughly across the table from her. He placed his cane across his lap, folding his hands in his lap.

"Good evening, Lady Elizabeth," Malkuth greeted cordially. He wore a special, tight smile at this moment as if he were restraining that crazed one he sometimes got. "What tea have you prepared for our family today?"

[aestheticism]

ȿ i l a s

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ȼ o l l i e r

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While tension made the air in the kitchen sour, Silas was hopelessly lost in Edgar Allen Poe's endlessly appealing gothic world, where a jester-clad drunk was being deceptively led to his doom at the bottom of a dank, smelly catacomb. Such a place would not normally suit Silas's fancy, but the fate that awaited the drunk was as exciting and suspensful as it was grotesque.

However engrossed Silas was in his literature, nothing could have prevented him from hearing the high-pitched squeal of the alarm set in place by another Maquedor to wake the less efficient Maquedors than himself. Silas shut the thick book containing the full works of Poe and stood, straightening the simple form-fitting tee and jeans he wore when he wasn't on errand. There was a large mirror on one side of the room that was mainly there for decoration. Nonetheless, Silas used it to make sure his immaculately groomed hair was in order, and strode swiftly out of the room to make way toward the kitchen. On his way, he barely avoided bumping into the blind Father Maquedor, Malkuth. He stumbled rather ungracefully and thanked his lucky stars that Malkuth was blind and there was no one else watching. "Good morning, Malkuth." He said, barely slowing down.

The tension was almost malleable as he entered the kitchen. Elizabeth, also known as Mother Maquedor, was preparing tea with her back to the newcomer, Cain. He was momentarily surprised that more of the 'children' hadn't reported yet. Silas cleared his throat primly, hoping to ease some of the awkwardness. "Morning," He said imposingly, making sure to make his regal presence known.


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[Euphoric_Taste]

E l i z a b e t h


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Elizabeth pursed her lips at the young vampires decision to pass up tea time. What a poor impudent little whelp.... Taking a deep inhalation she turned her attention to the lovely Father. His chivalry was impressive, and his voice soothing in comparison to the brashness of Cain's. "Good evening, Father." Bits of her British inflection colored the words she spoke but weren't very heavy. She only let her words succumb to her place of origin when she was extremely irate. And it was best not to make her that angry.

She smiled at Malkuth's question. A genuine smile; when was the last time Liz had been genuine? Father really did bring out the best in her. "Oolong. And now I'm wondering where the children are." Taking a sip of the tea she let the woody-floral taste dance around in her mouth. She wanted to ask Father about his opinions on the rebellious Cain, but before she got a chance Silas made his presence known.

The man was looking immaculate, as always. He understood what it meant to be a Maquedor, unlike some others. And Elizabeth was almost positive that Silas shared her distaste for such vile, brute like people. Smiling towards the man she stood up once more and poured him a cup of tea. "Evening, love." Setting it down at the table, the smile faded from her face and it was once more the stone mask that inhabited her cold outter shell.

"I sent Miki out on an errand; helping me make preparations. Isn't he a doll?" Viper tongued words lined with sarcasm; flowing like the words of a poet, but dripping with expectations. She wanted to know how Father felt about Cain, and Silas as well. If the boys wished to dispose of him. The minx was aflutter with a lust for a fight; not an easy kill, but a struggle amongst her kind. Just another way she needed to secure her place at the top.

Lizzy™

[`MaliceMizer]

ӍᎪᏞᏦᏌ✝Ꮋ
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“.....“

"Oolong," Malkuth repeated. He was pleased with that little pleasantry of daily life. He enjoyed the East Asian teas more so than the European ones - they were less bitter. "Impeccable choice and taste, like always, Mother."

Malkuth did not turn his head to Silas' general area. Instead, he motioned with his hand to a chair beside himself for the boy to seat himself.

"That boy... the one with the wide gait in his step?"

(ahgh, short post... apologies. I have to run.)

[aestheticism]

ȿ i l a s

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ȼ o l l i e r

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Responding to Malkuth's sightless beckoning, Silas moved to sit beside him and nodded thanks toward Elizabeth for the tea. It was steaming hot, but the smell was soothing, and Silas took small sips as Elizabeth and Malkuth exchanged small talk for a few moments. The Maquedor parents were two of the few people in the world with whom Silas felt truly comfortable. It seemed that he could tell them anything, and they shared his views on many issues. With them, he almost felt he could remove his icy, impenetrable facade. Although he wasn't sexually attracted to Elizabeth, he nonetheless saw her as one of the most stunning, sensuous people on the planet. Her manner, her voice, her fashion sense. It all fit perfectly in Silas's vision of a supposedly vampire-filled household.

The warmth of the hot, sweet tea spread through Silas's body like the plague as Elizabeth brought up Miki, whom she had apparently just sent on an errand. Silas's eyes turned cold at the mention of the newcomer and he placed the dainty cup gently back on the saucer. "Elizabeth," He said after Malkuth's curt remark, in his quiet purr of a voice, "Something needs to be done about him. He's out of control." The contempt he felt for the one that constantly perverted the purpose of the Maquedors made him sick to his stomach. He picked up the teacup and took a small sip without another word, waiting to find out if Elizabeth and Malkuth shared his view.

The Maquedors were supposed to be refined and dignified, giving the world the impression that they were a force to be reckoned with. Strutting around using incorrect grammar and disrespecting the leaders of the group was not the way to intimidate the world. If people like that were admitted into the Maquedors, people would soon see the anarchy and the authorities would quickly find them. Everything would end, and Silas could not handle the thought of such a catastrophic event.


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[Ooc: Oh my goodness. I apologize for my last post. I totally messed it up.]

[Euphoric_Taste]

E l i z a b e t h


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The fire continued to burn in Elizabeth's jade green eyes. She longed for something more than mundane table conversation. Locking these unladylike thoughts she watched Silas react to Father's motioning. It puzzled her; Silas was all holier-than-thou and yet he bent to the whims of his elder. Queer, indeed. Respectable, though. Father's words were deliberate and flattering. "My pet, you know flattery will get you know where." Her voice was sweet to the point of sickness.

What Elizabeth meant by that comment was that she would never become his mistress. She would not become soiled or used. And she would certainly never love again. Her heart was colder than ice and hard as rock. Love was a putrid thing that only caused imperfections and insanity-- two things that Liz feared the most.

A man had once said, "A smile is a curve that sets everything straight." In Elizabeth's eyes a smile was not an imperfection, but an expression of pleasure or amusement. Like anything else she possessed her smile could be used in many ways; used to disarm, to frighten, to warn, to convey any message the raven haired Goddess desired. A pleased smile crossed her crimson lips, and for the first time all day she looked into someone's eyes.

Not through them like she did Cain, not on her hands like she did with Father, but into another pair. The eyes are the windows to the soul and yet she did not see the fevered dementia she saw within her own when she gazed in the mirror reflected in his. This realization made her sit taller; smile fading away into the darkness. She strived for perfection. She would be the end all, be all of woman hood. "What do you suggest we do, my dove?" She gently questioned. It was not a woman's place to suggest such a violent solution, even when it was needed.

Lizzy™

[ii Emy Ems]

live ｌｉｆｅ simply00000

and fully00000

ENTER

S α η ∂ y M ι ℓ ℓ ε ɼ s【 ↩ ↩

ENTER

Sandy's heals clopped down the concrete sidewalk, almost echoing against the brick buildings that lined each side of the street. The only reason why she was wearing such fancy footwear was for her part time job as a small assistant for some minor technology company. But they weren't any big, well known, business, also one that Sandy wasn't planing to stick with for a long time. She had high hopes of becoming a lawyer of some sort. The pay was suppose to be fairly high and it should be a nicely structured job too ( or so she was told ). Something that is a requirement for Sandy, a must for schedules and planing ahead of time. At least Sandy didn't have to dress in anything too formal for her part time job, that would have been much more of a hassle for her. The heels weren't much of a dress wear either, only about two inches high. But pumps and stilettos would have been too much for Sandy's feet to handle. She just couldn't even see how women could wear such shoes, just as if you were walking on tiptoes all day. They would have began to feel sore the second Sandy put them on. But that just might happen when the day she becomes an attorney comes around. But, the type of shoes you wear always comes after your job, well at least it does to Sandy.

The dark crimson colors of the brick building finally appeared just overhead. It almost appeared like a shabby bush compared to the surroundings skyscrapers. It didn't really stand out either, it had a dull architecture to it and the outside was all scrapped up. There were cracks and splits all over the outer walls, yet, just another sign saying that the apartment was only for those lacking the money to even afford a normal apartment. Sandy let a small sigh escape her parted lips, knowing that once she fulfilled her dream of becoming a lawyer, there will be no more measly apartments but a normal house. Sandy headed up the wooden plank steps, each move emitting a loud groaning sound form the wood. She wouldn't be surprised if it gave way any second from then.

Even the inside of the apartment had the words 'cheap' and 'old' written all over the place. There was barley anything that decorated the walls. Sandy silently headed towards the staircase, a shame that they had no elevator provided. But it wasn't that bad since her room was on the third floor, just two flights of stairs to walk up.

Once Sandy heard the loud blaring music being emitted from some room, she knew that she had entered the right floor. Sandy fumbled with sticking the key into the keyhole, apparently the door was also getting old. Once Sandy heard a satisfying click from the door unlocking, she turned the nob and opened the door. The sight in front of her wasn't an unusual one but also something that you don't want to come back to see everyday. Sandy couldn't help it. She didn't even choose a roommate like her. It was the only available room left in the apartment, and no one ever told her that her roommate was going to turn out like this. The clamorous music instantly filled her ear drums, threatening to damage them. Sandy quietly shuffled her way towards her own room, shutting the door behind her. She didn't bother to say 'hi' or anything, her roommate probably wouldn't have even heard her. Still, the music could be heard loudly and clearly. Coming back from work and being greeted by a nude friend wasn't something Sandy wanted to see.

Sandy dropped her bag on to her bed, also laying down on it. It had been quite a tiresome day and this was basically the only time for Sandy to relax. It wasn't good for a nineteen year old to be stressed just because of a part time job and a roommate. It wasn't that Sandy despised her or anything, it was just that Barbie's habits and hobbies were a little agitating and bothersome at times. But, Sandy's roommate wasn't all that bad ( besides a lot of things ), probably not the worse but not the best choice of a roommate either. But, Sandy had always found her name quiet funny, seeing how she practically was just like a Barbie doll.

ＬＯＣＡＩＴＯＮ !! Concreal Apartment Room 325

[`MaliceMizer]

ӍᎪᏞᏦᏌ✝Ꮋ
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“I never have to anything for myself anymore, now do I? I feel so lazy!”

Father Malkuth listened intently to his female counterpart's restrained dialog. He knew she did not speak what she wished to say, but instead waiting for a man to say it, as was proper. She would not be caught being the instigator of an inter-family scuffle. And she was so charming in the way she picked her words! He adored that, the familiarity with which she referred to people, her terms of endearment. Her mind was furthermore brilliant. Malkuth knew well that she had a heart of ice and attempts to sway her were futile. He knew that well yet still persisted with his praise of her as a way to show his appreciation. Of all the people who could be the Maquedor family Mother, he did luck out with someone so charming and genius and proper. Not that her freeze-out was of any harm to him. Sex led to a jumble of emotions and emotions would, without a doubt, distort one's sense of judgment. He could not afford that, therefore he had to bar himself from any fun. He was no longer a youth and reasoned his abstinence as being proper for his age and position.

Not unlike her sentiments, he disliked the possibility of conflict within the Maquedors. That would be most... unwanted. And if he were the one to suggest that Cain be taken care of, that would be catastrophic. He imagined that an underling hearing that Father wanted him disposed of would not fair well with the rebellious youth of the family. He knew that parents should always agree. He felt a twinge of instinctive restraint but, considering that it was only Silas - a most loyal and chivalrous member - in the room, he voiced his opinion.

"This is the boy who bit himself," Malkuth stated to clarify who they were talking about. "The boy, Miki, who insists on being called Cain. He is reckless, as we have observed. I believe we should assign him tasks that are far away from our home. If he survives and completes the tasks wholly, then we can see about giving him some etiquette and grammar lessons. But if he does not survive... it is no loss of ours."

The blind man's hand was slow in moving, careful not to knock anything over. He delicately slid a finger into the loop of his tea-cup and raised it to his lips. What a pleasant taste, indeed. After a momentary pause, Malkuth continued, "Silas, after tea, I think it best you follow after this Cain fellow. Make sure he doesn't endanger the whole of our family. Yet if he is in danger, do not risk yourself. You are far too dear to us to be treated as expendable."

[aestheticism]

ȿ i l a s

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ȼ o l l i e r

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Silas sat with the two people who were his redemption from exile, listening calmly to Malkuth's flattery and Elizabeth's exasperated rejection of it. Once again, Silas reflected that his situation was one in which he would never imagine himself: sitting alone in the kitchen with two leaders of a group of killers, sipping tea, coolly discussing the fate of an incompetent welp. He had never been happier. Elizabeth quietly asked him what he thought they should do about Miki, or Cain, and before he could answer, Malkuth interjected with his professional opinion. It wasn't bad. Sending Cain off to dangerous missions in faraway places would not only risk his expendable life, but it would also get rid of him for long periods of time and put him under the impression that he's needed as some sort of embassador for far-off lands.

"I approve." Silas said with a small smile, revealing his perfectly polished surgically implanted fangs. Being rid of the frustrating Cain was as good as Silas could hope for, but he was faced with a decision when Malkuth gave his order that Silas follow Cain on his mission. While there, Silas could very easily end Cain, making it appear as an accident, and report so back to Elizabeth and Malkuth. They would never know. However, the two had been very good to him since his initiation and the thought of defying them was somewhat unattractive in his mind. In the end, he decided against treachery against the Maquadors. Silas nodded obediently toward Malkuth. "As you wish." He said softly, inwardly basking in the fact that he was considered 'dear' to the Maquadors. "I'll leave after tea."


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[Dollywaffles]

| | ♥ b i d d i e b e l l - - | |

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Yaaaawwwwn.

Bridget Bell stretched languorously in her bed, arching her back like a spoiled kitten. She slid her hands over her satin sheets under her down comforter, enjoying the sensuous feel against her skin. There really was nothing better than sleeping in, waking up after sunset and feeling those satin sheets. Biddie knew that Mother would probably disapprove of the late hour she'd risen, but at the moment, she couldn't bring herself to care. She sat up in bed, tousling her hair lazily. Judging by the lack of sunlight valiantly trying to poke its way around her heavy curtains, it was already well into the evening. Biddie sighed and slid out of her bed, little feet padding across the floor to her full-length mirror.

She surveyed herself in the mirror; her little nightie covered in roses looked as cute as it did that morning, if a bit rumpled; her eye makeup was smudged, but all in all, she thought she looked rather well, especially considering the sort of night she'd had. Biddie had found a group of twenty-somethings to blend into and had accompanied her new friends to a club. Her fake ID had served her well, and she'd had a fabulous night having drinks bought for her. She'd only recently kicked out the boy that she'd brought home with her; he'd sneaked out of the window and down the drainpipe.

Biddie slipped into the bathroom and rubbed off most of the smudged eye make up, tousled her hair again, and shrugged on her silk robe. Again, she knew Mother would not approve of her attire, and would expect her to be ready for the night at sunset, but Biddie wasn't really one to worry too much about acceptance and rule-following. She opened her bedroom door and started off down the corridor and then the stairs, heading for the kitchen. Biddie shivered, wishing she'd put on her slippers, and then shrugged. She was already halfway to the kitchen, it'd take more effort to go back and get them than to just put up with her toes being chilly.

As she neared the kitchen, she noticed an air of tension. Biddie stood in the corridor, out of sight, and listen to the conversation for a few moments. She heard Miki's name, Malkuth was talking about Miki needing lessons, and then asked someone else in the room to watch him. Silas answered that he would leave after tea, and Biddie chose that moment to enter, yawning lazily.

"'Morning, family. So sorry, I overslept."
Despite her apology, Biddie's face didn't show any sort of contrition, and she plopped down at the table. "Ooh, are we having tea? I would love some Earl Grey, if we have it."


[Ooc: I hope this is an alright first post. Sorry it took so long, life got crazy there for a bit. :] ]

[Euphoric_Taste]

E l i z a b e t h


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Elizabeth sat in silence; contemplating Father's decision. It would suffice for now, but if Cain pulled another stunt she would surely take care of the boy and no one would have a say in it. Cracking the outer shell that made up Ms. Greene's facade was quite literally the worst idea one could ever dream up. Nodding towards father's decision her voluminous raven curls bounced with the movement.

Lovely Silas was obedient as always which pleased the minx to an endless extent. Before she could thank Silas for his compliance one of the children came into the room. She was a young one; barely legal if Elizabeth remembered correctly. The life of an immortal suited the blonde girl in a very unique way; she was full of sexuality. Poor dear, her hormones must have been way out of balance. What a human quality.

Morning, family. So sorry, I overslept. A single, immaculate eyebrow raised on Elizabeth's face. Bridget was a poor, dirty, weathered little pup who needed a bath. If she cleaned up better than Liz did the control freak might need to skip a few more meals. She was determined to be the best. The most beautiful.

Although as far as etiquette went Lizzy had that in the bag. When the heathen demanded Earl Grey Mother almost lost it.She sounded like a spoiled, indignant little brat. Elizabeth pushed her chair out from underneath her and made her way to the oven. Putting the kettle on the stove once more she brought the water to a boil. A cup and a saucer was the next step, setting it down with more force than necessary she turned to look at the blonde girl. She had already planned on giving her what she wanted, but the act of giving the thing to her now was disdainful. It made her blood curdle in her veins like milk in the stomach of the sick.

"My, my what an impudent little thing you are. I suppose you were never taught about etiquette. Poor dear." Pressing her lips into a thin line she handed the girl her cup of tea and folded her thin arms across her chest. A seat in between Silas and Elizabeth was the only seat open at the four chaired kitchen table. Taking a sip of her tea her face was adorned with a holier-than-thou, smug look.

Lizzy™

[`MaliceMizer]

ӍᎪᏞᏦᏌ✝Ꮋ
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“....Oh, drat.”

Malkuth was slow in turning his head towards where this new girl to the kitchen stood. He usually did not bother turning his head to 'look' at someone, because by the time he pinpointed their location to turn his head to, they would have moved, and then he'd be all off-kilter. However, the creep out people or to 'leer' at the disrespectful, it was worth it.

"Child," Father Maquedor stated firmly as if that one utterance in itself was a scolding. The glare that would have been on his face could be heard in the stern tone of his voice. "It is not acceptable to be so late to our daily tea. Are you even dressed? You sound as if you are barefoot, as well. Do not come out in public so inappropriately. It is not proper for a woman, even if our own home."

He took the ensuing silence after his scolding to take a few generous sips of his tea. He had finished it by then. Malkuth wondered an insignificant thing; was there more tea? He didn't want to go groping around the table for more water and to ask Mother for more would ruin the tension created by that reprimand. It could wait.

"Where are your manners?" He added in a quieter murmur, mostly to himself.

(Not sure if this tea is with loose leaves, or a tea-ball, or one of those tea-bag things and so I kept my post a bit vague..)

[`MaliceMizer]

ᎬᏒᏕᎢᎬ, ᎪβᎬᏞ.
LOCATION: CITY STREETS; ON THE WAY TO MONS VENUS FROM ETR HQ
MISSION: PREPARE FOR A POTENTIAL MAQUEDOR ATTACK AT MONS VENUS

Abel could not be upset over his domestic life for too long. Soon, the diligent ETR worker was being given his newest assignment back at base. However, even though the recruits were each assigned a specific area to patrol in small groups, it was rare that these trigger-happy youths actually carried out their tasks - except for a select few like Abel who actually did what they were told. Sensibly so, the head of the ETR branch broke up those hard-working members with the more rowdy boys to help keep them in line.

Bad move.

"Abe, yo, Abe!"

It was one of Abel's fellow group members. This one liked to call him Abe Lincolon. 'Abe' wasn't even remotely close to how 'Abel' was said, anyway. It annoyed him, but he never voiced his irritation. He had his assignment - a two adjacent block rectangle - with two other guys and was beginning to head over there, geared up with his vest and jacket and a scarf. Abel always wore scarves, even in summer. Even before the Maquedor scare, the boy kept his neck protected from the elements be it a turtleneck sweater or a scarf or a bandanna or a baby-blanket draped around himself like a poncho. Of course, he was the first soldier headed to the designated area and he would be the first to get there and the last the leave the patrol. Everyone else took too much time 'getting ready.'

"Hey, Lincoln, we got a lead. We hear there might be a small group of them Maquedors at Mons Venus. Yeah, we should go there, you know, hang out. That way, when the Maquedors come, we'll be ready for them."

Abel's eyes widened, astonished that his group-members were actually good for something. So they would actually get to work today? To actually bring down some of those creeps? Sure, it was in such a sleazy place as a gentlemen's club, but if it meant catching some of those Maquedors, then he could do it. What he didn't know, however, was that his teammates knew that Abel was incredibly gullible and he fell for their lame excuse to go hang out at a strip bar for the night. So, under the guise of work, the three soldiers headed to Mons Venus.

Woof woof! Dog of the military!

[Dollywaffles]

| | ♥ b i d d i e b e l l - - | |

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If Bridget wasn't still half-asleep and lazy, she might have bristled a bit more at Mother's scathing responses. As it was, she'd been expecting that, and tried not to let it bother her. A little twinge of guilt tugged at her as much as she tried to ignore it; she knew she'd been a handful lately, but really, what else was she supposed to do? Granted, she hadn't joined the Maquedors to do nothing but party and shag, but she wished the family would cut her some slack; she was only nineteen after all, and she had all those years stuck at the university doing nothing to make up for. This was her chance to be a bit irresponsible.

As biting as Mother's reprimand was, Father's was worse. His voice carried more admonishment than his face could show, and Biddie winced. She supposed he was right, she was barely dressed and rather late. Ah well, no use thinking on it any more than that; what's done is done, right? Biddie would be sure to make an effort tomorrow. She could barely think that thought without wanting to cackle.

"Maybe I left them at the club." Biddie replied sweetly, to Malkuth. She raised her cup to Mother in thanks, and then took a sip before screwing up her nose. "Eugh, it needs some sugar." She flounced to the other side of the kitchen and rummaged around in the cupboard, then dropped two sugar cubes in and stirred. She enjoyed the clinking of the spoon against the teacup; though she had been late to tea, she couldn't fool herself into disliking it. Tea was in her blood, and she liked everything about teatime, from the cups to the sugar to the tea itself. Biddie stood by the counter and sipped her tea. She knew that neither Mother nor Father would approve of her standing there, but after their scolding, she didn't particularly want to sit next to them.

"Do we have anything fun planned for tonight?" Biddie asked, turning to Mother, her face the picture of eager helpfulness.

[aestheticism]

ȿ i l a s

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ȼ o l l i e r

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Silas shook his head slightly as the new girl entered, ungroomed and requesting a tea that hadn't been previously provided. He felt the coming of the blistering scolding from mother and father before it arrived. And when it did, Silas fed relentlessly off the inferior position in which Bridget had been placed. He stifled a nasty smile and listened victoriously as she was bombarded with the leaders' fiery anger. The fact that she admitted to oversleeping had only seemed to worsen the situation. Additionally, her manner and appearance were considered extremely unorthodox in such a place and among such people. When the parents finished their scolding and Bridget had finished not being contrite, Silas turned to look icily at her, intentionally attempting to disarm her with his stunningly beautiful face. "You look atrocious." He said scornfully, his eyes scanning her up and down, from her unkempt hair to her bare feet to her silk bathrobe. Just then, he had an idea. He turned to look at Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth," he said, "If it should please yourself and Malkuth, I would be willing to have Bridget accompany me on my errand. She may learn something about our line of work, and perhaps feel the urge to behave herself." He didn't add the fact that, should something go wrong, to be rid of two incompetent people in one night would be considered a major victory for Silas. Her deliberate disdain for rules and regulations made Silas fume inside, and he did not wish for the Maquedors to be subject to any further humiliation at the hand of the ignorant newcomers.


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