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Thread: The Marionette- 1x1 W/ Ashen

  1. #1
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    Default The Marionette- 1x1 W/ Ashen

    Myrefall is run by the Nightingale family, a clan of people who often keep to themselves. They are filthy rich and often put money into various town functions, and though their morals seem to be a bit confused (donating to questionable organizations), they don't bother people directly. At least, that's how they appear to people from the outside.

    Really, they're a family of vampires, and their maid is trapped under their fangs for fear of her life. They are funding various organizations to eradicate humanity, and slowly but surely they are preparing for a vampire uprising. They've been collecting data, samples, anything that can get them hints on who next to turn and who next to delete from everyone's memory.

    People have started catching on, but those who speak against the family tend to go missing. Most rebels are silent in the town, and their underground messages are encrypted. They have a plan to kill this family and hopefully save Myrefall from vampires entirely. They're just waiting for the right moment, the proper opportunity.

    Mags is part of the resistance. They were born into it, and they've been hatching this plan for as long as they can remember. There was never time for a childhood while they were plotting the demise of their vampiric dictators. While the vampires haven't hurt anyone yet, they know there's no time to waste. Being just moments too slow could mean the end of humanity.

    Mags is tasked with staking out, and as they approach the Nightingale mansion, they notice someone. A human? They look so unhappy, yet so peaceful, poetic, beautiful. they are filled with an impulsive urge to find out more, to save this person. But, living under their roof, they must be a Nightingale ally... right? Or, Mags thinks, they could be the final push to their years-old plan.
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    Throughout the ages, the same stories have been told by humans, their lessons repeating. One of the common stories being of a wolf in sheep's clothing, and the poor victims who fall under the false sense of security the wolf provided. The thing was, in those stories, the wolf didn't feel guilt. It didn't feel regret, or empathy, or any type of emotions other than its own feeling of greed and desire. It was, no matter what shape the wolf took, a monster at its core. But this wolf, she had emotions. She felt regret and guilt, she felt the shame of her actions, and it showed in the melancholic expression she wore. The fact of the matter was, however, that she was still the wolf, and the poor people of the town were her victims. Even those who cried 'wolf', calling out the true identity of the family that housed her, were victims. In fact, they ended up worse off than those who stayed blissfully ignorant.

    With a sigh, Ophelia made her way to her chambers, on the second floor of the Nightingale manor. There was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to just return there and never leave again, especially after her most recent hunt. The Nightingales had been wanting a very specific young woman by the name of Veronica. It had taken her several weeks to get Veronica to trust her enough to follow her into the woods, and by that point she had been building an actual friendship with the girl- something nonexistent in the manor. That being said, when she had led Veronica to the manor's drawing room, and watched vermilion eyes surround Veronica while she closed and locked the door, it took everything she had not to turn around. Not to open that door back up, and help Veronica escape, even at the risk of her own life. Even now she could hear the poor girl's wails, though she knew they were no more than a memory at this point, a banshee haunting her mind. " Just ignore it. They are just pawns on the chessboard." she muttered to herself, knowing it was a lie. It was simply what the Nightingales had told her to cope. She figured they had just assumed by this age she would've grown numb to it all, and instead feel she was helping out with some bigger, better, even. After all, she had been doing this for as long as she could remember. However, this was no time to be pondering on her actions, or her situation. Right now, she just needed to take her mind off of things, maybe read a book or two- the manor's residence were at least kind enough to grant her some requests, within reason.

    At the thought of books, the slightest of glimmers appeared in her eyes. She had recently gotten a new one- The Chronicles of Narnia, she believed it was called. She hadn't gotten too far into it yet, but she had read enough to wish she could simply walk through a wardrobe and end up in a completely new world.
    With that thought she curled up in the alcove of her room's bay window, a pillow, blanket, and book in hand, gazing up at the stars. " Even Narnia seems much better than here."
    Last edited by Owl0430; 04-09-2020 at 09:00 PM.

  2. #2
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    The midnight oil was always burning in the apartment at the end of Windflower Lane. The tattered curtains did little to hide the low glow of candlesticks, but the apartment's inhabitant had given up on caring about that long ago. She twirled a spoon absently in the mug of black tea she'd made. She was restless. One of the members of the guild was supposed to contact her when he found out the information from this mission, but he'd been silent for hours. She paced around the tiny apartment, thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong. Had Tyrain finally been claimed by the vampires? Was he no longer man but food for the bloodthirsty beats? Checking her watch for the umpteenth time within the hour, she clenched her jaw. Her patience was wearing thin. She had to do something.

    Mags couldn't remember a time she had been apart from the Resistance. She'd been born into it, and she'd risen in the ranks of her guild of rebels by being good at sneaking around and being generally liked among her superiors. She didn't have parents, and no one had been able to tell her what had happened to them. To her, that didn't much matter; the rebels were the only family she had ever known, and she'd willingly give her life for their cause.

    She knew she had to alert someone, but she also knew doing so would probably land her in a lot of trouble. Mags wasn't allowed to act on her own yet, but this was ridiculous. Waiting for signal that might never come was not how the Resistance would end the vampires. Irritated, she flung open her closet doors and pulled a hood from underneath other articles of clothing. Tucking her silver knifes into her garters and belts, Mags set off into the night,eager to save her guildmate.

    She'd been to the manor countless times, so now it didn't even bother her to linger around the property at night. Still, she was seldom alone here, and the independence filled her with both pride and fear. She poked around the premises, looking for Tyrain. She couldn't find him, so she dared to peer into the windows. Very little could be ascertained through the curtains, but she noticed pulled blinds on the second floor. Gracefully lithe, Mags made her way up a tree to peer into the only room she could see. In it was a girl, one of the family's daughters or so--but, Mags realized, she wasn't. She didn't recognize this girl. A new vampire? Were they bringing in more of them? But as Mags strained to stare without being seen, she realized that that was impossible. The bright, sad eyes, the rosy skin; that girl was a human yet.

    What was she doing there? She was just reading a book as if she lived there, in the manor of vampires. Why wasn't she panicking? Mags watched her for several moments, confusion furrowing her brow. It didn't make any sense. Was a human working for vampires? Why? Rage bubbled inside her at the very thought. If a human being dared to help the enemy, Mags would make sure she'd die first.

    A low chirp caught her off guard, and scrambling, Mags moved to silence her phone. She had a new message from Tyrain. He was back at the apartment after acquiring no new information, and he was asking Mags where she was. She gulped, shoving the phone back into her pocket and looking back to the window. Had the girl heard her? She stayed perfectly still, watching, waiting. She needed to get home, to get back to her roommate, the guild, her life. But this girl--who was she?
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    For a while she had continued reading, loosing track of the time- not that it really mattered. She had permission to go into town in the morning, maybe buy herself a new outfit or two. Not that she really cared much for the clothes- she much preferred literature and artistic supplies. She had no need to doll up and dress herself up for the men unless the Nightingales specifically desired the blood of a male. However, she felt she was beginning to tire, and was in the middle of a yawn when, out of nowhere, a chirp-like noise from outside.
    Closing her book she shifted, peering out the window until- to her suprise- she located the source. The sound was not from a nocturnal creature, but rather a person up in a tree. A girl, seemingly near her age, at least based on appearance. Wait... a person? Why? How?! That was well near impossible for there to be a living person near the manor. Though she supposed her biggest concern should be as to why there was a person there. Especially at this time of night. " Who are you..." she spoke quietly to herself, her gaze locked on the girl in the tree. " and why on earth are you here?" a thief, maybe? or some curious fool who actually believed the ramblings of the 'insane' towns folk who claimed the manor's inhabitants were vampire, and mysteriously went missing afterwards? She reached her hand towards the latch on the window in order to warn the trespasser to leave- she did not want another death on her conscience. However, as her hand reached the latch of the window, she heard the knob of her door turn, she herself turning back around just as the door opened and one of the manor's inhabitants walked in. To her relief it was one of the nicer ones- though he had the same blood-lust as all the rest. At least he did not threaten her if she did not get them a new victim soon enough. Then again, he was also the youngest of the inhabitants- next to her, of course- so he was likely the most open to new ideals then the rest of his family. His name was Alec, and she had a sinking feeling she knew why he was here, and it was not to talk.
    " Good evening Ophelia....or, I guess it is evening for us, anyways. It is late night for you. I do hope you had a delightful day. Though, if I may ask, why do you seem so nervous? You stopped fearing my presence long ago.
    As much as Ophelia wished to quit the small talk, she could not forget about the girl in the tree. If the stranger was smart they would leave. She would just have to humor Alec in the meantime. If the girl was discovered because she stuck around, however....well, then it was on the girl. Not her. " It is very rare I have a 'delightful' day, Alec. Out of everyone her you should know that the best." she responded, trying to casually angle how she was seating to best hide the stranger from Alec's line of vision. " As for my nerves, I had thought I saw a coyote outside, only to find it was nothing more than my imagination. You simply startled me is all." Years of perfecting the art of lying had not come without a few benefits. For example, in situations like this, she could keep her heartbeat perfectly calm and lie with a straight face. That being said, Alec was easier to fool than some of the other residents.
    " Hm. Very well then." Alec said, glancing at the window briefly. " Well, enough chitchat. It is that time again. You know the drill, but I hope you do not try to resist this time. It was too much of a hassle last time, and you need to keep your strength up."
    " Do not fret, I have no intentions of resisting tonight. I am much too tired, and really not in the mood for trouble." she did have to give him credit for at least changing his clothing this time around- last time he had waltzed into her room wearing a shirt adorned with bloodstains from that nights meal. Turning her head to look out the window one last time, she mouthed two short phrases, hoping the girl was able to read her lips. The phrases were "leave" and " I'm sorry". Afterwards, she pulled the curtains to the window, though there was still a bit of a gap in one section, though one would have to be angled just right to see through it.
    Letting out a heavy sigh, she walked over to the nightstand by her bed, grabbing a clip from a drawer and pinning her hair up before pulling a stool over to the side of her bed, where Alec was sitting. She was glad she had remembered to place a cup of water there before she had departed earlier that morning.
    As she sat down onto the stool, Alec used one of his nails to draw a thin line across his wrist, from which soon beads of vampiric blood began appearing from, steadily followed by a decent flow. He then held his wrist out to her, and, with hesitance, placed his wrist to her mouth. She had closed her eyes, as if doing so would make the moment go away. Immediately she gagged at the taste of it, a taste she would never get used to, but Alec placed his free hand on her back, as if reminding her not to resist.
    After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, Alec removed his wrist from her mouth, the cut he had made quickly healing over. That should be enough for tonight. Get some rest, trick dove. You've had a long day." to her relief he left immediately afterwards, and she wasted no time reaching for the water on her nightstand, clumsily spilling some of it on herself as she chugged it, desperate to get the iron taste out of her mouth. After she had downed the water, she grabbed a washcloth to dab her face dry, before turning in for the night. Even when she had shut the lights out and curled up beneath the blankets of her bed, she did not look out the window again that night. She wanted to believe the girl left, and escaped unharmed. If she was wrong, however, or if the girl had witnessed what had happened, she would rather not know.

  4. #4
    The Ashen One
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    It was just her luck to have been heard. Mags watched as the girl glanced up and approached the window. She hadn't been scheduled for a mission that night, so of course Mags had not silenced her phone. She never did when she was home; otherwise, she'd never hear the frequent alarms, distress signals, call to arms from her guild leaders. But how now could she have forgotten to silence it when she left the house? Cursing her stupidity, she just hoped it did not get her killed.

    The girl in the manor was saying something, too quiet for Mags to hear. Would she come to kill her? To draw her in for the vampires to feast on? Every knife hidden on her body seemed to grow heavier, reminding her of their presence. Mags had been trained; she knew how to fight her way out of this such situation. But if she failed... She shook the thought and waited, frozen, for the girl to open the window. But just as it seemed she was going to, she stopped and turned away. Mags slunk closer to the bark, glued to her perch, watching. A man came in then--no, a beast. He had the lifeless skin, the monstrous eyes, those spikes poking through his lips. Mags scowled. He was one of them, one of the ones she'd been trained to hunt and kill. Now is not the time, she reminded herself. Go home.

    But she did not budge. Mags couldn't remember ever being this close to a vampire alone. She absently fingered the hilt of a knife in her boot as she observed. She couldn't hear the conversation, but from the girl's expression, it seemed she was used to this, or tired of this. There was an exhausted submission painted across her face. Maybe she wasn't the enemy after all.

    After they talked for a few minutes, the girl came to close the blinds. She mouthed something, some kind of warning? Not one Mags was willing to heed. She'd been here this long; she needed to know what was happening. Once the blinds were shut, Mags made her way down the branch she was on, careful to keep her balance. She could only gaze into the room at the very edge of the limb. She kept low, silent, praying her weight would not send her and the branch tumbling to the ground. She doubted she'd be able to get away at all, then. She squinted into the sight, and it was then that she saw the human girl drink from the vampire.

    ...What? She stood, baffled, trying to comprehend what she had seen. It should have been the other way around--! Hearing a crack under her, Mags darted towards the trunk of the tree, clinging onto safety. This branch would not hold her long. Silently, she made her way down the tree and away from the manor, all the while lost in thought. But the girl-- What purpose-- Why? She asked herself question after question until, finally, she arrived at her apartment door. She unlocked it and went inside, and there she found a very angry roommate.

    "And where the hell were you?" Tyrain was a thin man. His dark eyes pierced her, and his crossed arms demanded of her an answer.

    "You didn't message me," she replied simply. "I was worried, okay?"

    "And I haven't been?" he retorted, voice raising. He stood, towering over her, and came to the foyer, inches from her. "I don't need you looking out for me. What would I have told everyone if you got killed because of me?"

    "Have some faith in me," she spat, averting her gaze. "Stop freaking out. I'm fine. Go to bed."

    "Don't you tell me to go to bed." His voice was still rising. "When will you learn that you can't do whatever you want?" He reached a hand out to grab her, pulling her chin so that she was facing him. "Please," he said more gently. "I don't want to lose you, too. I love you, Maggie."

    Mags pushed his hand away. "I have to go to bed," she muttered. She pushed past him and ducked into the bedroom. She threw off her boots and hood, slipped out of her pants, removed her shirt. In only her underwear, she curled into bed, wrapped herself in the covers. It wasn't until several minutes later that she heard Tyrain settle into bed beside her.

    "They have a human," Mags blurted.

    There was a pause. "What?"

    Mags turned to face him. In the dark, without his glasses, she found the shine of his eyes all the more beautiful. "The Nightingales. They're keeping a human, and she feeds on the vampires."

    Tyrain studied her . He reached a hand to her forehead, feeling for a fever. "Maggie, sweetheart," he murmured, "go to bed, okay?"

    She turned away. Of anyone in the world, she expected Tyrain to believe her. That just meant she'd need to find her answers by herself.
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    Despite how late she had gone to bed, Ophelia woke up around 8:30 in the morning. Though she was a morning person, the recollection that she was allowed to go to the town for her own reasons today lifted her spirits- at least a little bit. She could pretend for a bit that everything was normal. So she got up and showered, afterwards putting on a lively white sundress that reached down to her ankles and cinched at her waist, embroidered sunflowers lining the hem of the skirt. After drying her hair, she clipped it up to the back of her head with a simple golden hair clip.

    By the time she reached that point, however, began the challenge- getting out of there without running into any of the other residents. If any of them had requests, they would tell her to keep an eye out for any candidates, with no regard that this was essentially her day off. They stayed indoors during the day, but that did not mean they slept.

    Creeping up to her door, she opened it slowly, looking both ways before stepping out into the hall, quickly walking towards where she knew the staircase was. So far, so good. Unfortunately, all hope vanished when she heard a voice sound behind her

    " And where do you think your going?"

    She was ready to respond when, as she turned around, realized just who's voice it was. " Just kidding." Alec spoke, leaning against the railing. " and do not worry. The others are all busy right now. They pose no threat to you leaving for the day- though the appeal of the daylight to you continues to baffle me. You really should consider venturing out into the night with me sometime- I assure you you will not regret it."

    "Not in a million years. Now, if that is all, I would like to be on my way."

    "Very well, Ophelia. Though I do hope you change your mind one of these days." he spoke, continuing to stand where he was as she made her way down the staircase and, eventually, out the door. Once outside, she wasted no time hurrying away from the manor. Thankfully she he quickest way from the manor to town, and soon enough the outskirts were in her sights.

    Once she set foot on the pavement of the town's sidewalks she slowed her pace, taking in a break of fresh air. The air here did not seem as stale as she felt it was near the manor. Nonetheless, she had bigger things to consider- like, for instance, where she was going to start her day off at? The bookshop? A walk through the town's park? no.....she knew what she wanted. A treat from what she considered to be the town's best pastry shop. Afterwards maybe she would head over to the bookshop, followed by maybe some clothes shopping. Granted she did not run into any issues.

    Therefore, that was exactly where she went- to the small pastry shop in the east end of town. It was a cute little store, decorated in light and mid browns along with a pale yellow, giving the shop a warm and welcoming atmosphere. It was there that picked up a small thing of cinnamon roles- one of her favorite treats- and a small iced coffee from the little area the pastry shop had given to a family-owned coffee shop.

  6. #6
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    It was another fitful night. Mags didn't even realize she was in the throes of a nightmare until she felt a hand grip her arm. She jolted, blankets falling from her bare body as she sat upright. The unwelcome cold wrapped her body, spiking bumps across her skin. Sweating, she frantically looked around, trying to remind herself of where she was, where she wasn't.

    "Maggie?" Tyrain had been woken up by her evidently, and he sleepily looked at her with tired, nearsighted eyes. "Are you okay?"

    Mags hugged her legs to her chest. She was silent, feeling the drumming of her heart.

    "Can we talk about it?" Tyrain knew better than to ask about her dreams, but a part of him still wondered, still wished she would open up.

    Mags looked to him again. She was silent for a long while, details replaying in her head. "Vampires," she murmured, looking away from him. "They got me. The transformation... It was so painful. Everything we've ever fought for..." She bit back tears. How would Tyrain understand why her dream bothered her so? She shook her head and shoved herself out of bed. "Go back to sleep," she said more softly. "I need some air."

    The bathroom sink always showed her just how little she slept. Mags winced at the sight of herself. Her pale grey eyes were lifeless, and the bags under them were darker than her cursed irises. Her skin was blotchy, red; her infrequent freckles were lost in the sea of her rosacea. Mags turned the faucet and splashed herself with water. Her short hair barely fit in the ponytail holder she used to contain it. It had been dyed lavender long ago, and she was surprised at how slowly her roots grew, how infrequently she had to touch them up. With her face as fixed as cleaned as it was going to be and her hair as tamed as she was willing to make it, Mags returned to the bedroom she shared with her roommate.

    Tyrain had already fallen asleep again, so she silently got dressed. Mags dressed simply, hating being the center of attention. Once finished, she grabbed her keys and set out.

    Mags didn't have a destination in mind, so she aimlessly wandered about town. She found herself at the Nightingale manor, and she cursed herself for her carelessness. Her mind was fixating. How could she distract herself now? She started off in the opposite direction, letting her legs and her stomach guide her to a cafe. She could relax over a bagel, decide what to do. Once she'd paid for her food, she sat at one of the tables in the cafe and scanned the crowd. The place always had a decent flow of traffic, owing it to the heavenly smell ever-present in the air. Mags sighed. She hated being idle like this, she knew she had to do something for the Resistance--

    Wait. Mags set her bagel down and squinted. The girl waiting for her coffee, was that...? Mags rubbed at her eyes. She was being silly; what would the Nightingale's captive be doing outside in the morning? But the resemblance... Mags bit her lip, wondering if she should dare make her presence known. What did she have to lose?

    Abandoning her bagel, Mags made her way to the pick-up line and lingered around the woman there. She clenched her fists, trying to find the right words. "Excuse me," she said evenly. "Do we know each other?" It was safe enough, she hoped, and she wondered how this woman would reply.
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    To Ophelia's dismay, the line for coffee was taking longer than she liked. She would much rather be outside right now than in this line- it was turning out to be a beautiful day in terms of weather. Nothing would prevent her from feeling the sun today.

    However, she was startled out of her thoughts when a voice sounded next to her, asking if they knew each other. She glanced over at the voice, responding with an emotionless, "Hm?... No, I do not believe we know each other" and for your sake I hope we never do. Yet, after taking another glance at the woman, she stiffened. Something about this woman....she almost looked liked she could have been the girl in the tree from last night. It had been dark, so it had been relatively difficult to see the woman's features, but her room had provided enough lighting for at least some visibility. If so, it meant she had lived. Yet it also meant the girl recognized her. Had she seen anything? Did she know anything?

    This was difficult. Ophelia had no clue how to respond to the situation. Was a word of caution best? She was relatively certain it was the girl from the tree. However, if it wasn't her, or if she didn't recognize her, it would be best to play it off, as if she was a perfectly normal girl.

    As she went to say something more, the line began to move, and she found herself receiving her coffee up at the counter. Thanking the barista, she began to pay, when all of a sudden a nearby conversation caught her attention. A man's voice talking to a female, asking if she had seen his sister. She went by the name Victoria, and proceeded to describe her. Apparently she hadn't returned home last night from an outing with a friend. But just the name alone had her slightly tense, her hand shaking a bit as she handed over the money and took her receipt. She needed to leave. " Now, while I would love to chat further, I'm afraid I have quite a bit to do before sundown. With all the disappearances, the stores are closing early. Therefore, I must bid you good day, miss." she spoke with a bit of a rushed tone now, proceeding to promptly turn around and leave the store.

    Hopefully it would be enough of a warning while still being casual enough it would throw the girl off if she was suspicious of her. She could not afford to arouse suspicion from any of the townsfolk. The Nightingales would be furious. Additionally, if she spent too much time around the girl, her scent would linger on her. If she returned to the manor and the Nightingales liked the scent, chances are the girl would end up being their next meal. '' I am not in danger, my dear, I am the danger." she whispered to herself as she walked.Curiosity often leads to danger.

  8. #8
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    The girl was playing hard to get. Mags stiffened at the dismissive response she got from this not-stranger. Countless ideas were spiraling in her mind, and she wondered how quickly Tyrain might have shot down all of them. She would already be worrying him by daring to talk to this woman. Would he ever find out? She took a step away as the woman grabbed her coffee, but there was something about her. The way she tensed, the way her eyes darted to others in the cafe; Mags was not going to let her go so easily.

    The woman was starting away. Mags let her get outside, away from the crowd in the cafe, but she followed. Before sundown? she thought to herself. She wanted to wait longer, until they were both further from the open streets, but Mags could hardly contain herself. Just a couple blocks away, she caught up with her again and cleared her throat. "I'm not stupid, you know." There were passersby around them, people who would notice the scene she'd be making if she threatened this girl. Mags knew better than to get arrested again; Tyrain probably wouldn't even let her leave their apartment after last time. She shook the thought, concentrating on the woman's features, memorizing them. "You know who I am," she said evenly. What was she doing? If this girl worked for the vampires, then Mags would be as good as dead any moment now.

    But to Mags, it didn't quite matter. It didn't matter that she no longer had the veil of moonlight shrouding her features. It didn't matter that, with purple hair and pale eyes and freckles, she was far from plain. She knew the danger she was putting herself into, had been trained for years to take the right steps and avoid doing exactly what she was doing, yet... "I know you work for the Nightingales," she blurted, not loud enough for anyone else to hear but undeniable nonetheless. "I've got some bones to pick with them, actually. Maybe you can tell me what exactly you do?" Her eyes were locked on the girl's, but in her head she was taking in every reaction, every breath, every twitch, every step. If this girl were too act too rashly, she'd have a silver dagger through her neck in seconds.

    Mags took a step towards her, intimidating still at 5'0". "So let's try this again," she said, a mere growl. "We know each other. Let's skip the formalities. Who are you?"
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    To be blunt, she wasn't surprised to find she was being followed- in a way, she almost expected it: the other woman had been lurking around the manor, saw her, and then boldly approached her in the cafe. She wanted something, and whatever it was, it probably wasn't good for either of them. Talking to the woman about what she might've- but by the looks of things, likely did- see, what she knew about the Nightingales, could get her killed. Nonetheless, the woman was relentless. But everything had a breaking point. Even the will of people. Maybe if she stayed silent long enough, then she could get through this without revealing anything.

    So, as she walked, she glanced back at the purple-haired woman before continuing to walk forward, trying to buy some time: but she stopped in the tracks when she said ' I know you work for the Nightingales'. When then asked what she does, she promptly turned around, a desperate, pleading look in her gaze. " Please, whatever you saw or think you know, forget it. It won't do you again good, so just-" she spoke hurriedly, and quietly, trying to fit what she had to say in, up until the girl spoke again, a growl to her tone. There wasn't getting out of this, was there? " Fine" she spoke, a pained look in her eyes. " But not here. Definitely not here"

    With that, she returned to walking, assuming the girl would follow her in order to get some answers. After a few minutes, they reached the public park- not overly crowded at this time of day, mainly some early morning joggers- but it provided enough witnesses if anything happened to either of them, but enough space between people their conversation wouldn't be overheard.

    Sitting down at picnic-type table, she let out a pained sigh. " You asked me who I am?...Well, it all depends on who you ask. To the townsfolk, I'm an enigma. But traditionally, I'm Ophelia. Ophelia Nightingale, essentially the foster child of the Nightingales. Needless to say, Nightingale isn't my original last name- but I couldn't tell you it even if I wanted to. I don't know what my original last name was.'' Ophelia paused, giving the woman a chance to process the information. " As for what I do, that's not important. Nothing about the Nightingales is important. So, I beg of you, just leave it alone. I don't know who you are, or who you work for, but I can say this: What I do isn't my choice. Whatever horrors you've seen are likely dull in comparison to what I have seen. Upon my shoulders is a grief beyond what you can imagine. So let it go...." carefully contemplating her next choice of words, it was a few minutes before she spoke again. "You were in the tree last night, yes? I am glad to see you are alive. I was worried they were going to find you...that being said, I beg of you, please stay away, not only from me, but from the manor as well. There are two kinds of secrets: Those you keep in, and those you don't dare let out, and sometimes, learning such secrets come at a great price. You are young, with your entire life ahead of you. What you seek is not worth your life. "

  10. #10
    The Ashen One
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    This woman was so flustered, so skittish, Mags wondered if she had been the same girl in the Nightingale's manor. Of course she was, her reactions proved that, but how could someone so timid work under real vampires? Mags watched with a wary gaze, sizing up her enemy, not bothering to listen to the excuses she gave. Finally, after some convincing, the girl decided to open up. "But not here," she had said, and just like that she was starting off.

    Mags allowed several paces between them before starting after her. She had no idea where she was being led, but if it was to someplace--or someone--dangerous, the distance between them would allow her time to fight or flee. Mags followed the girl to the town park, and by the time she sat down at the table the woman had specified, Mags had already surveyed everyone around. It was a quiet hour, and she was thankful for that; Mags didn't know what sort of threat this girl--this Ophelia--posed to the public.

    Ophelia Nightingale. The surname caught in the air between them, cold. Mags didn't want to believe it, but she was sitting before a member of the clan in the flesh. She wasn't a vampire though; that much was evident, even if it hadn't been before. But she was protecting them, for some reason... Mags sneered at her, disregarding her warnings, hating her for even issuing them. "What I throw my life away for is not for you to decide," she snarled, a new light in her eyes. "You can't sit here and tell me the Nightingales aren't important when they are everything to me." Her voice was raising. A woman with her toddler looked towards their table, and Mags had to pause to calm herself before continuing. "You have no idea what I've seen, Ophelia. How dare you claim your horrors worse than mine when you work under them. You pitiful slave."

    Her hands were shaking. Why was she so fired up? Had Mags ever been this close to a vampire-lover before? Not a live one, anyway. The weight of her weapons reminded her of her power, of how easily she could squash this stranger, but she had to remain calm. She was in public. And besides, Ophelia didn't know how to talk to strangers, to empathize, but she hadn't quite done anything against Mags herself, had she?

    "Your warnings aren't going to work on me," Mags said, this time her voice low. "I don't need your well wishes. I've been training my whole life for combat. I'm not some dainty little thing, despite how I might look." She lowered her gaze, kept her ears trained to sudden movement. "You're not going to shake me. You can tell me what I want to know, or I will come back, tonight, and tomorrow, and every day if I have to until I get my answers. So." Her eyes found their way back to Ophelia's. Mag's brows were furrowed, an anger she couldn't shake, but she knew she had to remain civil, lest she ruin her chances. "What's a human like you doing in a manor like that? What are these so-called horrors you think are so much worse than mine? And tell me, Ophelia, since you seem to know the worth of mine; what's your life worth dying for?"
    Thanks to Craze for the beautiful Bravely set!

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