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 Posted: Mon Oct 24, 2011 6:35 pm
Who | Dragomir Meschke, his Phasmas Chayele, and the Servos, Lettie Arelgren.
Where | Shyregoed, just outside Dragomir's small home.
When | Midmorning.
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Posted: Mon Oct 24, 2011 6:36 pm
Dragomir wondered what hellish things he had done in a past life - or even this life! - to deserve this. To deserve being faced with a choice he could not choose from - sacrifice his soul for the lifes of others, or forfeit his life. Because though it sounded easy, leave the Obscuvans, doing was so much different. Doing was death. Doing was inciting Andromeda to come after him, to have him, to take him...
It was enough to give him nightmares. He shuddered just thinking about it, actually, and gathered Chayele up as though she would be his shield, his protection from Andromeda. And, perhaps, in a sick way, she might be. He sighed quietly, under his breath. He hated feeling this way - feeling as though he were a trapped animal, struggling to find his way out when faced by a predator finally revealing itself for what it was.
He sighed and opened the door out of his hut. He glanced over towards the mansion in which his most mortal of enemies lived. It had been awfully quiet lately, he mused to himself. But he had not heard anything of it, so he assumed that Arelgren was off doing something that he deemed appropriate and Dragomir did not wish to know of. The winter air hit his face in a rush and he felt winded - the cold air seared his lungs but it was wonderful - he breathed deeply before looking out and starting on a walk, Chayele still gathered to his chest.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Oct 24, 2011 6:49 pm
Lettie Arelgren was an awfully troubled Little Ghost. Being quite aware of this, she pinched the fabric of her dress, lifting it as she walked across the cobblestone pathway that descended from Mr. Meschke and the late Mr. Arelgren's homes. Each step only reminded her that her Grimm had walked upon the same mineral and probably thought of her darkly as he did so. Her dotted mouth wobbled with anxiety, and the ribbons on her dress suddenly didn't seem so pretty to her anymore. One of them had come undone from her earlier running trip and now was stained with dirt's stigma.
Mr. Arelgren must be very very very very very upset still, Lettie thought to herself, knowing it to be (probably) true. She didn't know where to go without him. She always thought it was the opposite way around, that he was rather at a loss without her. He'd admitted it to her himself earlier and it seemed as if it was all for naught. Dorian didn't return after two days of his departure, and Lettie doubted he planned on changing his mind.
She wasn't certain if she wanted to speak to anyone. The leaf plagues from before were kind to her, but she was careful and articulate enough to avoid too much unnecessary prying. Yes, Lettie was a responsible Hot Cocoa! She would not tell anyone what had happened between her and Mr. Arelgren, not Hopkin, not even Chayele or Mr...
Mr. Meschke?
But it was! But it was Mr. Meschke!
She saw the brooding man approaching her, Chayele hugged against his chest.
Her dotted mouth grew larger and her gloved hands flew to her face. Had he seen her?
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Posted: Mon Oct 24, 2011 7:03 pm
Dragomir had not noticed Lettie. He was in another world, in such a fabulous place that he was burdened with neither enemy nor plague; in which he was - in which he could read and be and find some semblance of happiness. But such was the stuff of children's fairy tales and dreams; those things were most certainly above him. And yet... Even when he shook his head to take in the cold, pristine whiteness of the landscape, it came back to him. It clung persistently to his mind, screaming that it would not be denied.
No, he was in his own existence and only barely paid heed to Chayele, who had noticed her friend! She tugged rather violently at his coat and kicked him, too excited to fear being tossed into the snow (which, she knew, was not so much a fear as a terrifying possibility - she hated to be cold or hot but Lettie was worth it!), wanting him to realise that the pretty Servos with the prettiest dress she had ever seen and the nicest personality that made Chayele feel downright mean was right there! Really, truly she was! She made urgent noises, sour and sharp notes, wanting his attention, demanding it.
His voice was sharp, hoarse from the cold air. "What, Chayele?" It was not a question insomuch as it was a demand; she had succeeded in snapping him from his wonderful dream world and she would explain this instant as to what she wanted.
She pointed, emphatically, towards the other small excito, her smooth face crinkling slightly in excitement - but when Dragomir looked and looked and could not see her, it became more and more of frustration than anything else. But, ever constant and determined, she continued to point, her small finger a beacon.
For once giving Chayele a measure of trust, he continued to creep towards Lettie, following Chayele's pointing and grunting - but it was unlikely that his windstung eyes would see Lettie if she were to climb his clothes; he was not expecting her and perhaps did not even want to see her (not because he hated Lettie or even disliked her; he had nothing against her, so much as her grimm), and so missed her entirely, with unerring accuracy.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2011 2:05 am
The Hot Chocolate Locos's hands quickly grabbed whatever was nearest to her, in her case being a stray leaf. She saw that Chayele had identified her, yet she was truly unsure if she wanted her friend and the latter's Grimm's company at the moment, as she had only been in an awkward despair earlier. Her little fingers shredded the leaf she held moments ago in her hand, and her dotted mouth grew larger with a gasp--Lettie was duly confused, and Dragomir Meschke, once Dorian Arelgren's lovely neighbor-brother and daughter was suddenly an intimidating force. The absence of Dorian made the other Grimm even more frightening to Lettie, for she always had the inkling that the shorter Grimm disliked the gadfly Arelgren to some extent and was not his most passionate admirer.
Still, Lettie remained frozen, weighing her options: shredding more leaves or making salutations.
After more leaves were viciously shredded (she was sure Cavalier and Nelody would cringe at the sight), she decided that she had no more leaves nearby to shred and Chayele Meschke deserved a greeting from her friend. Her empty hands held only fragments of greenery, and her ribbon-embellished cap tilted a little over her head. She could feel her aura grow hot as her ghostly cheeks pinked a deeper hue, and she suddenly missed Nelody and Cavalier's company, despite that Chayele was regarded in much higher regards to Lettie in terms of love and companionship.
She rubbed her hands to rid them of leaf remanants, and cried aloud, "Chayele! Chayele it's you!"
And as if that alone were not enough: "Oh! I am ever so glad to see you again, Chay!"
Feigning a cheerful bell-like laugh, Lettie dashed across the cobblestone and stopped in mid-run before Dragomir's feet. If he was not careful, he would surely step on her. She grinned up at the Shofar girl, spreading her arms wide in preparation for a familiar hug and the sound of beads rubbing against cobblestone.
"It's Lettie! Lettie's come to play!" she cried, though she'd only "played" moments before with the younger leaf plagues. It was different with Chayele because the two of them had a mutuality that other Plagues would not be able to identify. Both had Grimms that sided with Obscuvos, though Lettie could only wonder how the bird-man's cult affected the Phasmas's Grimm. Dragomir Meschke always seemed so troubled, and before Dorian introduced Lettie to the House, she could not fathom why.
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Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2011 4:42 am
Dragomir had continued looking, though Chayele became more troubled; she had watched as Lettie shredded leaves and her finger faltered; if Lettie could see her, then why would she not greet her? She struggled but knew that Lettie was not Dragomir - Lettie loved her, she knew, and Lettie would not hurt her. She rubbed her horns lightly with her other hand, finding some comfort in them; they never left her and, though they could hurt others, they could not hurt herself. A small, breathy sigh left her.
Dragomir turned his attention onto Chayele when his eyes caught upon Lettie running up and Chayele's soft grunting had come to a fevered pitch. He screeched to a halt, not wishing to hurt her, and went to one knee despite the coolness on his leg. The two wanted a greeting (Chayele had immediately brightened when Lettie said that she was glad to see her; she wiggled as hard as she could against his chest and tried to free herself and get to Lettie, even if it meant falling the considerable distance to the ground) and he at least would give it to Lettie. He placed Chayele on the ground surprisingly gingerly but the girl tore from his hands before her feet were even touching the ground.
She came in front of Lettie and hugged her tightly, her fingers fixing her hat lightly - though her face had no aspects to it, it was doubtless that she was beaming with all her might; Chayele had missed Lettie and could not help but want to hold her and make sure she was alright - except for the soft hum escaping her, an almost rapturous noise.
Dragomir, now sitting on the cobblestones (because kneeling on the stone hurt, and if he were to do anything, he would do it right; he suspected these two would be here for awhile), smiled slightly at Lettie. "How have you been, Lettie?" He cocked his head slightly, eyes taking the small Locos in. "Are we detaining you from anything, or can you chat awhile?"
Though he sounded rather nice, asking her plans was not her benefit but his - if he could escape before Dorian came back (where was he? Dragomir wished to ask, but if he truly was gone, and Lettie was here, it could not be a good thing; Chayele became despondent enough when Dragomir left her for some period of time and greeted him like a dog - what if Lettie was the same?), all the better.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Oct 28, 2011 12:34 am
Lettie’s guilt tripled when Chayele embraced her. Once, from her qualm with Dorian Arelgren before, twice, when she failed to give her salutations to Dragomir Meschke, and the third and final time was as a result of not greeting Chayele earlier. The Shofar’s warmth was altogether undoubtedly the most comfortable contact Lettie received in the recent time span, and she reached out with her tiny arms to return her friend’s love and care, hugging the Shofar's decorated waist. Lettie had long noticed that Chayele was always so delicate with the way she treated other Plagues, but Dragomir would n** at her nonetheless. Immediately, the Locos drew the direct comparison: Dorian Arelgren was the polar opposite of Dragomir Meschke, and she had only now noticed the stark contrast. Though she continued to hug the Phasmas back, Lettie could not help but to feel envy towards the Shofar. Despite that Chayele regularly irritated Dragomir Meschke, the Grimm never failed to remain a constant. His icy features would always scan his Plague in disapproval, and sometimes, the same expression was transferred from the Meschke to the gadfly Arelgren. But Chayele was still his and he was still Chayele's and that was all that mattered to Lettie, and that was all that could matter to Lettie.
She chimed her loved, bell-like giggle in harmony with Chayele’s perfect-pitch hums. The sound they made was quite marvelous, and Lettie unwillingly reminded herself that Dorian would have liked it very much.
The Hot Cocoa smiled bashfully when her friend fixed her hat; she was unconscious that her own fidgeting had set it askew. Frankly, Lettie felt as if she did not fidget enough, for the anxiety within her did not align with her current demeanor at all. Dorian Arelgren no longer wanted anything to do with her, and she had little to no idea on how to react to his decision. She couldn’t beg to be taken back. He was no longer there to take her back, his availability vacant. She was, at least, comforted by the thought that he would not adopt another Plague to replace her. He was better off loathing her lot than substituting her with another. Even in her pathetic state, the Locos still retained her vanity.
"How have you been, Lettie?" Dragomir cocked his head slightly, eyes taking Lettie in. "Are we detaining you from anything, or can you chat awhile?"
Despite its simple structure, the questions were very hard to answer to the small, Locos girl. She wasn't used to her name being called by another Grimm, especially another male Grimm. It always had a special chime to it, when Dorian spoke her name. Lettie--Little Ghost--Darling Lettie, yes, she used to be adored! She released Chayele, carefully sidestepping as to not trip on the latter’s beadwork. Slowly, she raised her chin to gain eye contact with Dragomir Meschke, the man whom Dorian considered as among his closest of friends.
It was odd to her. If Dragomir was such a rarity to Dorian, why was it that Lettie's heart could only feel an imminent fear? Dragomir Meschke’s eyes were more intimidating than they ever were, it was as if Lettie was gazing into a winter storm. She fumbled with word possibilities in her head before she managed to string out a sentence that she felt was appropriate. Her cheeks pinked again, and she pinked some more when she realized how visible her blush was (as it always was).
“I’ve been—well----“
How had she been?
The answer was an obvious one, though she wasn’t quite sure how to make Dragomir understand. She would try her best.
“—not very good.”
There. She managed to say it.
Lettie tugged on her neck bow, stretching the satin as she spoke the next, grudging words that she hoped she wouldn’t regret later: “Mr. Arelgren got very cross with Lettie because she forced him to get even with bad men. He said ‘Lettie, I am not a killer’, but I didn’t listen to him!” Lettie cried, undoing the bow altogether by pure emotional force. She plopped down, a pile of brown and ribbonry, resisting the urge to tremble and altogether crumple. “I-I made Mr. Arelgren leave! He was already upset because the House made him murder people and Mr. Arelgren never intended to murder people and—“
And what?
“—And…and…”
The words were caught in her tiny, Excito throat. Lettie had nothing in mind of what her next move would or should be. She didn’t know what the precedent of “and” was, she simply couldn’t say it.
No. That was a blatant lie.
She did know what followed after "and"; she knew it very well. It was just a matter of admitting it at face value, not only to herself, but before Dragomir and Chayele. It was a frightening experience as it was the frightening truth:
"...And he's not coming back. ...Ever."
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Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 8:16 pm
Dragomir smiled as the two remet each other, and remained quiet. He had nothing to say; he did not wish to upset the small Locos and so let her meet - however, her reaction was strange to his questions. He had expected he report that he would be back any minute, but his navy blue eyes lit upon a scared but almost defiant, in his own eyes, plague instead. This was no happy plague.
Chayele felt the discomfort in her friend and sat behind Lettie as she talked. Her thin arms twined around herself gently as she watched Lettie talk. She wished to embrace her friend as such and make her feel better, but she could not and so found some reassurance in keeping herself this way. She listened, totally intent on what Lettie was saying, and found herself chilled. She was the opposite; she hated death. It scared her - and yet Dragomir had had to hurt people to help her out... she could hardly stand it. However, she understood; fear was a mighty thing. Chayele knew what it was to be afraid of bad men and she could only assume that Lettie too had been afraid.
Dragomir, in the mean time, did something surprising. His eyes flashed grief and misery and self pity as he recalled - but then they softened ever so slightly, for Dorian and for Lettie. "So he understands what I know." He murmured to himself, "the weight of a life."
His fingers came up to his lip. "I cannot fault either of you. Sometimes the taking of a life is necessary but it is also difficult. The House has a way of making it doubly as difficult, in my experience." He sighed softly.
"I am sorry that he reacted in that way towards you, Lettie." He extended his hand to her, tenderly, and lifted the corner of his lip in a small and reassuring smile. "Come inside then. There is nothing to be done out here except freeze. It is not as decadent as what you are surely used to, but I hope you can consider it homey enough, in its own fashion."
He did not want to force her - he wanted her to come by choice.
Chayele stood up and latched almost dramatically onto Lettie. She knew that Lettie could do no wrong, so Dorian Arelgren, the strange man she had been fond of, had to be wrong. She patted Lettie's hand gently, hoping to console her in the simple way she could. But she too wanted Lettie to come; she wanted Lettie to be her sister now, as Dorian and Dragomir had been - perhaps they could stay together! The mere thought made her tremble with excitement even in so solemn a time she would've cried if she'd had the eyes to - finally, she would not be alone!
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2011 9:31 pm
Dragomir Meschke's confession surprised the Locos. Her grip on Chayele weakened when Dragomir began, and they fell to her sides altogether when he solemnly arrived at: "the weight of a life."
Though Dragomir Meshke did not elaborate any further on his own tale, Lettie was nonetheless curious at its content. Additionally, she never truly thought about it that way before, the idea that a life was a burden. She always felt that death was a burden, for Dorian was strongly afflicted by Ms.Nancy's passing and some more. She blamed the House for his ordeal and Dragomir only reinforced her opinion. The House did indeed act as a reaper in itself, commanding death and dying, perceiving them as sacrifice and necessity. The expression the Meschke man briefly wore only alarmed Lettie more, for she wasn't aware that he was capable of making such a face. It was the mention of his deed that evoked karma in his features. The same frown appeared on Dorian's face repeatedly throughout the week. Dragomir Meschke and Dorian Arelgren were not bad men. It was the very truth in such a statement that made their stories all the more frightening.
She suddenly became conscious that she'd released Chayele, and not wanting to worry her Phasmas friend, she quickly grasped her hand. There was a slight difference this time; this time, she couldn't bring herself to smile. Dragomir's confession was something that worked an ill spell over Lettie, and she felt the dilatory guilt for acting as a catalyst to Dorian's guilt finally arrive. Lettie opened her mouth to speak, but what was there to say? That she didn't regret telling Dragomir Meschke the incident of the cross Dorian Arelgren and his offender, Lettie? Telling him such a thing wouldn't change any of the facts or justify anything further. All that she could have said had already been spoken.
"I am sorry that he reacted in that way towards you, Lettie." Dragomir extended his hand to her, and his lips performed something that resembled a rare smile. "Come inside then. There is nothing to be done out here except freeze. It is not as decadent as what you are surely used to, but I hope you can consider it homey enough, in its own fashion."
Lettie was not an opportunist. She had been taught by observing the urbane to be wary of etiquette and not to take advantage of kindness, it was a rare thing that could be easily perversed. Nevertheless, she had nowhere else to go. Arelgren House was no longer a suitable place to live, at least, not without Dorian. Chayele's warm palm was a promising beam of hope, and perhaps Dragomir Meschke could do with her company.
If she could make one Grimm smile more, perhaps she'd frown less about the Arelgren man.
Shyly, she nodded, but added: “Mr. Meschke, you're very kind and I am humbled by your offer. I-I will only take you up on it if I am not a burden!”
The words seemed to be insufficient.
"Please smile more, Mr. Meschke," Lettie genuinely quipped, gripping Chayele's hand tightly and gazing at the latter's Grimm with a firm stare. "It'll ease your burdens, even if just for a little bit. It did for Mr. Arelgren...at least before he left."
It was true. All Dorian could do then was smile and pretend. The issue was for how long could Dragomir Meschke pretend.
Lettie hoped for his sake and Chayele's that it was long enough for him to regain himself. If he lost himself, Chayele was in danger as well. She would ensure that Chayele and Dragomir would stay together--the incident between her own Grimm and herself was not to be duplicated.
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2011 10:47 pm
"I can do this, Lettie." He smiled to show her he wasn't lying, then nodded his head. "Come inside then. I will smile more, if it pleases you; you are no burden. Rather, a blessing, sent to me to keep Chayele company."
He left it at that, going no further; as of right now, he still sounded kind, as though he wished for Chayele to be anything but lonely. Chayele knew better. She clutched Lettie's hand tighter and buried her face in her friend's lacy dress, but made no noise and no motion to argue with Dragomir through grunting or signs. It wouldn't do anything but perhaps upset Lettie, something she was loathe to do, something she would have rather died than done. Lettie was upset enough; Chayele knew how deeply it would hurt her if Dragomir went away, and Dorian had always seemed rather fond of Lettie - Dragomir never had. She too smiled at Lettie. Perhaps Lettie's advice would help her too; maybe.. Maybe it would make her hurt less. It wouldn't hurt anyway. Maybe she'd be happier if she smiled when she wanted to cry.
She pulled Lettie towards the house, eager to show her around. While she was sure that it was nothing like what Lettie was used to, it was nice enough (in Chayele's own mind) and wanted Lettie to be comfortable at any expense, even her own. If Lettie needed Chayele's own "room," then Chayele would sacrifice it with a smile; she would not let Lettie down. Not so long as she had a breath left in her; she could make it better. One person, one other person, she was around all the time would like her - would love her, even if she had to attempt killing herself in the process.
Dragomir followed the two absently, looking around at the neighboring house he now knew to be empty. His lips twitched upward, a quicker, relieved smile, that had the hint of something cruel; not for any particular reason save for that he felt a huge weight had been lifted off of him. An Obscuvan no longer lived next to him - could no longer report when the pair went missing and did not come back (should things go well).
"Lettie, I think that we might be leaving here as well, soon." He paused, then added, "But you are more than welcome to come with us. I should think think that neither Chayele nor I could leave you here by yourself. I would all but insist you accompany us."
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Dec 17, 2011 10:01 pm
Lettie managed to grin back when Dragomir smiled at her. C-could it be? That she, the Little Ghost, unwanted and unpleasant---could it really be? She was considered a blessing to the Meschke man, a familiar term her Grimm used so long before in his fondness of her. She wondered if it was illusory, but Dragomir's features seemed more softer to her now than they had been in Dorian's company. It wasn't a poor compensation, and she was glad if Dragomir could smile more, not to please her, no, but to please the Shofar girl. There was much Lettie wanted to say in response, but the words and feelings couldn't correspond the way she'd hoped them to. Instead, she gave a little:
“It would please me very much, Mr.Meschke! I hope that Chayele will be pleased too.”
She clung to Chayele in response, glad that a body of warmth offered itself to her in the coldness of Shyregoed and her own mind. The absence of the Arelgren was substituted with the presence of two Meschkes, yet Lettie was aware that Obscuvos was still in affect, for Dragomir was a member of the House. She dared not to question him about how he fared in the House, and if they would punish Dorian for making her leave him. She was to be his tool, after all, another Plague to add to the Obscuvian collection. Dorian was of a separate group--he was a "Grimm"--weaker in certain aspects.
It must be difficult to be human.
From what she'd observed from Dragomir and Dorian, humans didn't smile easily as they made themselves appear to, and often there was truly nothing worth smiling about. But that in itself was the unique perfection of it all--the ability to lie so willingly to the self that the face expressed it and the mind oftentimes believed it.
It wasn't exactly an effortless task in being a Plague either. Grimms and Plagues retained different roles, their difficulties were unique to themselves. Dorian's discarding of her made the fact clear enough. The miseries were mutual, the disdain, however, one-sided when the situation arrived for them to be.
“I will accompany the two of you to whichever destination calls,” Lettie said carefully, a finger tugging on her bow. “Two Plagues are much better companions than one, hopefully, Mr. Meschke!"
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Posted: Sun Dec 18, 2011 9:09 am
"Then I too am most pleased you will be staying with us." The smile was there in his voice if not on his face as he was turned away. "I think that she would." He murmured, quietly, his tone taking on the hint of boredom the second he was forced to continue to speak of Chayele, as he entered the house.
"Yes.. I think two companions, should you decide that you truly will accompany us, would be better than one. But first things first, Lettie. Feel free to make yourself comfortable; I don't have much, but I do so hope it is enough. There isn't any rush to talk about where we're planning on going; you let me know when you're settled in." He sat down in his usual chair and sighed quietly. Subconsciously, his hand came up to cradle his face, as though the weight was too much for his neck to bear.
Was he doing the right thing? Was it safe to bring Lettie with him? What if Dorian came back and wanted her back and then he'd know where Dragomir was and that he'd left and all sorts of amunition against him. But could he leave her here? Being alone had the tendency of being a miserable, opressing thing that took all will to live away if loneliness was imposed and not willingly chosen. He knew. He supposed that was the only good thing Chayele had done - take away some of that damned loneliness and given his days some light. His hand shifted to cover his mouth as he thought, sighing softly.
Chayele kept tugging at Lettie before giving up and darting ahead, looking back over her shoulder to make sure that Lettie was an appropriate distance away (which was pretty much anywhere that Chayele could still see her, she didn't want to rush Lettie any more than she already had), though her humming was at a higher pitch than usual, the only sign of her anxiety other than her tiptoed running that was visible. She needed to make Lettie comfortable, so she hurried into her small room, a hole, really, and tidied up as best she could. She pushed at the weights and tugged at the ribbon to make the semi-functional chair-bed she'd created would be firmer and more capable of supporting weight. She moved some of the other things around quickly, as quick as she could, to neaten it up more. Once it was done to her standard, she gave a pleased sigh and looked around, poking her head out so that Lettie could find her if she'd gotten lost. She made a motion with her hand and hummed softly, calming down now that it'd been awhile.
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knife effect Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Feb 21, 2012 3:21 am
“O-oh, it's very much fine, Mr.Meschke, I--ah! Ch-Chay!” Lettie cried, skipping a bit in her running to catch up with the more musical Plague. She finally caught the Shofar girl's sleeve and she clung to it tightly, afraid that Chayele was planning on running further and leaving her more distance to catch up to. The Hot Cocoa realized that her sudden action was rude towards the Shofar's Grimm and immediately folded her hands nervously, releasing Chayele's sleeve and defeating the purpose of having grabbed it at all. With pinker cheeks, Lettie reached for Chayele's hand while keeping her focus on Dragomir, afraid that any single action would refute the previous one. She shyly mustered in her bell-like voice: “I too believe that the more is indeed the merrier, and I am very very very grateful of your suggestions in my comfort, Mr. Meschke!”
She laughed a little to reassure him, and caught up in the moment of euphoria, completely forgot that she'd been crying earlier. Joining Chayele and Dragomir was in itself a comfort to the dainty ladyplague, though she knew in herself that Dorian's presence was nothing that could be easily replaced. Lettie wondered if Dragomir and Chayele were merely compensation on his behalf--which was very different from the deed of actually replacing the Arelgren man. Dragomir and Chayele seemed eager to receive her, though she used much of her own effort in making them believe that she felt the same way. It was a difficult thing to do, lying. While Lettie didn't like to do it, she knew that sometimes, just sometimes, it was the better alternative. Remembering that such advice was given to her from Dorian caused her cheeks to pale to its original shade of white.
Thoughts of her Grimm aside, the Hot Cocoa Servos hoped her decision in accompanying the duo was something that she wouldn't regret for later. It wasn't something she'd like to think about, and she noticed that recently, just recently, she didn't like to think very much. It made making decisions more difficult.
END
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