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                                                  Thus far, it had been a rather strange sort of day for Gilbert.

                                                  It was almost as if he had woken up under a bad star, had gotten out of bed on the wrong side, or had accidentally broken a mirror in his sleep. From the movement golden eyes had blinked open to stare blearily up at the ceiling, the dark haired man had been blanketed with the strangely stifling sensation that things were a little out of whack. He couldn't say what exactly, nor why, but the feelings of paranoia had been impossible to ignore. Maybe, if he had been someone else, he might have brushed it aside as a silly, idle thought and not spared another moment from his day thinking about it. But the sort of life Gilbert Nightray had lived up to that morning had made him aware of one thing, if only one thing: that it is always best to be wary, especially when one's nerves insist upon it. And, as it was, Gil's premonition, if it could be called as such, had served him well. 'Well', as in his feelings of an unusual day before him had been spot on. It had indeed been a strange day, a day only a smidgen away from having been a bad day. The only reason it hadn't been labeled the latter yet was that it was still relatively early in the day; Gilbert didn't want to issue a challenge to the universe by saying things were as bad as they could get. Because they really weren't, considering, and besides, the universe had a habit of rising to such a challenge without fail. So, despite the barrage of bad luck Gil suffered through, the young man stayed mostly silent as to his fate, a twitching eye and a look of irritation for the universe in general the only reaction he allowed as the morning progressed. He maintained this response even when he nearly fell down the stairs leaving his home, even when he missed getting run down by a carriage by the seat of his pants, even when he was forced to run from an oddly affectionate cat that had clearly seen better days, even when he was nearly arrested in a case of mistaken identity, even when a pack of hooligans had attempted to steal his wallet, and even when his hat had been picked up by a particularly strong breeze and deposited into a rather dirty looking river. Well, perhaps he did falter slightly when it came to the situation with the cat; it was difficult to stay furiously stoic when one was retreating in such an alarmed fashion.

                                                  So, needless to say, it was almost noon, and Gilbert was not in the best of moods.

                                                  "I would say this day can't get any worse..." the dark haired man muttered as he wandered down the worn cobblestone street. "But it can."

                                                  Stuck in a pessimistic mood, Gilbert sighed, then lifted a gloved hand to tilt back the brim of his black hat. It was a beautiful day despite the misfortune that he personally had been experiencing; there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and as fate had already shown, there was a nice breeze blowing to keep it from getting too hot. It was a good day to be outside, and the streets were inhabited with shopkeepers, possible patrons of said shopkeepers, and people like Gil, who seemed to have just stepped outside of their doors for an aimless walk. In good company, Gil shoved his hands into his pockets and moved forward through the moderate crowd, his bright eyes scanning those he passed only idly.

                                                  Truth be told, it was strange for Gil to be just wandering out by himself without any long term destination in mind. Usually his time was evenly split between spending time with Oz, arguing with Alice, dodging Pandora plans via Sharon and Break, or at the very least making the mandatory appearance at the Nightray manor that was occasionally necessary to remind them that, yes, he was still around. But, as previously stated, it had been a strange sort of day, and the golden eyed man felt almost like taking some time away from the norm would probably be best for the norm's health. It was by no means scientific, but Gil didn't want to show up at his friends' doors already in a bad mood. So instead of focusing on gaining himself company, the man in the hat turned his attention to his stomach. And his stomach was politely informing him that it was lunchtime, and it was very much in need of food. Had he been at home, Gil would have gladly just cooked but, seeing as he wasn't, it was clearly time to visit one of the outdoor food vendors or open air bakeries. There were plenty of options, and the tempting smells that were wafting his way were certainly inviting.

                                                  A goal in mind, Gil followed his nose into the crowd, forgetting, for the moment, that the universe was out to get him on this particular day.


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gilbert nightray
R A V E N

Fanatical Lunatic

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                                          "What a beautiful morning!"

                                          The words were light and lilting, spoken with an almost childish enthusiasm, but they warranted no response from anyone in the immediate vicinity. That was partially because it wasn't really a response that always got a reply, but also because there weren't any other living beings in the immediate vicinity: the dark haired girl was seated alone. Dark blue eyes did not appear troubled or embarrassed in any way by her speaking to no one; leaning on her palm to peer out of the dirty window of the cab in which she sat, Wilhelmina Davenport's smile stayed on her lips, her eyes constantly tracing over the people that the cab drew her past at a rapid speed. Of course, 'rapid speed' is a bit of an overstatement; the horse that pulled the cab plodded along at a rather unenthusiastic pace, head lowered and blinders hiding a bored expression that was matched only by the cabby that directed it. Said cabby was a scruffy, unshaven sort worn thin by the monotony of his work and enchanted only by the thought of the fare that would soon be due to him. It was this fare that was usually kept Mina from using the cab service that was so common; as a young woman living on her own despite her insistence otherwise, money was to be carefully squirreled away for things she couldn't do given time and determination with her own two feet. In fact, the only time the young woman splurged and took a cab was for work purposes.

                                          'Mina.' a stern voice spoke, sounding exasperated.

                                          The girl who went by Mina didn't seem to find the voice that spoke from nowhere to be discerning in the slightest. Leaning back from the window with a small sigh, she raised a gloved hand to rub at the material covering her heart. Underneath the dress of her own creation was a curious black tattoo; it always twinged in the oddest of ways when he spoke to her.

                                          "You already sound impatient, and I haven't even started yet, Momerath." Mina sighed, cutting her eyes to the side to trace over the parcels that took up the majority of her side of the cab's seat. The largest bundle was packed with measuring tapes of varying lengths and widths, pin cushions, pieces of parchment and stubby little charcoal pencils, while the smaller bag contained bolts of cloth to help with the selection process. "I hope you're not going to talk to me the whole time I'm measuring for Lady Rainsworth. This is a big opportunity for me, you know. People of high society usually do business at well established boutiques. For a little nobody like me to be asked to service any member of the Dukedoms is a chance I can't afford to miss. And, as long as I make a good impression on the Lady, you and I won't have to worry about the bills for a while."

                                          'I never worry about your bills.' the voice snipped. 'Waiting around for you to mend dresses wasn't what I signed on for.'

                                          "I know that." Mina answered him, an odd expression lighting her face behind her smile. Shaking her head slowly, she continued, "Don't worry; there will be time for that later, just like there always is. Just be patient."

                                          'Fine.' he grumbled in response. 'But I'm certainly not going to stay awake through this nonsense. Wake me when it's all over.'

                                          "I won't!" the girl chirped with a light laugh. The voice in her head didn't respond, already having gone to 'sleep', or whatever it was Momerath did when he wasn't talking to her. She wasn't sure is all Chains spoke in the minds of the people they were bound to, and she wasn't sure at all what it was that her Chain did when he wasn't nagging her, to be honest; she wasn't the sort that raged with questioned about the strange entity to whom she was tied. When Knave was of a mind to share information, he'd share; she was a relatively patient girl.

                                          The carriage jolted to a halt, and the voice of the cabby called back to inform her that they had arrived at the Rainsworth manor. Gathering her bags and juggling the fare to the cabby as she simultaneously clamored from the cab, she wished the man a good day and he tipped his hat to her as a courtesy before nudging the horse into pulling away. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, the dark haired young woman paused before the door. Shaking her nerves off as best she could, the young woman squared her shoulders and knocked.


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wilhelminadavenport
M I N A

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