|The girl your Momma warned you about, Lourdes (notsoshy) wrote in athinblackline,|
@ 2009-05-25 23:31:00
|Entry tags:||mastermind, violet|
Who: Violet OT Mastermind
When: May 25th
Where: One of Wyngarde's homes
What: Jason comes by to check on Violet's progress.
The staff of the home Violet had been assigned to had found out very quickly they preferred to simply leave the woman alone. It wasn't that she was aggressive toward them in any way, but just her simple presence brought an oppressiveness into the room making it hard to breath. At current, the woman in question was sitting in a drawing room. The maid who had been cleaning in there had come out quickly leaving her to draw up in the chair and stare at the furnishings.
This was better than she had been in the two weeks she'd been cooped up in this place. She was moving from room to room and not running away from the staff. The fact that they were running from her did not diminish the progress Violet herself was making.
What she was wearing was a dressing kimono that only came to the middle of her thighs. Black. Most of Violet's clothes were either black or white. It wasn't that she didn't like colors, it was just that she came already arranged in three: white, brown, and purple that adding more just seemed to make one's eyes hurt. So she stuck to either end of the spectrum and stayed there. Black or white and she seemed to be more drawn to black. Underneath the robe, kimono thing, she had on her bra and a pair of boyshorts because modesty was something that needed to be observed when possibly in mixed company. There were men who lived on the premises, so she covered up the sensitive portions.
Truthfully, she didn't care if they looked. If they were old enough to watch television, they'd seen all there was to see. What was the difference seeing it in person versus seeing it on television? Her thoughts rolled to how long she had been there.
Days had started to run together almost immediately. Her hand was slowly healing, she could tell that because she wasn't finding as much blood in her bandages when she changed them. So at the very least she was developing enough skin to keep her blood in her body. She brought her hand up to her eyes and looked at the bandages swathing it from view.
I'll have to get another subject. Perhaps one of your little friends, Ethan whispered in her ear again. It was all in her head. She knew it was all in her head. Yet she still found her clenching her fists so hard her nails bit into the skin of her uninjured hand.
With a slow breath, she forced her fingers to uncurl. He was dead. There was no more danger from him anymore. Now she was the danger. And for the most part, she didn't care. Let them be afraid.