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Bellum Anon ([info]bellum_anon) wrote in [info]bellumlogs,
@ 2010-03-12 23:02:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:plot: fables

Fables Plot Public Post!
Who: Public
What: The Open Post for Public Threading for the Epic Fable Plot
Where: Throughout the building.
When: 12:01
Warnings: Any number of crazy things could end up in here.
Notes: Alright! This post is for public threads only, and will be run party style. Anyone can jump into a thread at any time--just use your judgment! Feel free to hop around, go to different parts of the building, and mingle through the madness.



12:01. The beginning of a new day, just broken in, still fresh. Most of the building was sleeping, as decent people ought to be at such an hour.

The building, down at its foundations, was restless. A storm had been gathering for the past week, in its joints and its doorways, in its windows and its keyholes. 12:01, the storm broke over Bellum.

It was as if the building stretched, yawned, shook itself. There was a shudder in reality, as if the air itself was nothing more than a funhouse mirror. Faster than you could snap your fingers and the thing was done, set into motion before the darkest hours of the morning had yet come around.

A twitch, a snap, a static shock.

And then the changes started.

((OOC: Alright guys, go crazy! Feel free to post your location in the header of your comment so people can do a quick visual scan for the right comment and the right location. Mingle! Chat! Fight! Tackle one another!))


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10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-13 08:40 am UTC (link)
Hannah had fallen asleep at 11, but she'd barely managed to keep her eyes shut for a full hour before she just couldn't do it anymore. Sighing, she sat up in bed and stared at the ceiling, unaware that the alarm clock beside her read 12:00 am. She didn't notice the change at first, since it was barely a whisper against her skin, but it was the slight pressure on her feet that alerted her to the fact that there was something wrong. It was too dark to see anything, so she slipped off the edge of the bed-- and nearly fell forward.

"What the--" She steadied herself on the night table beside her bed, fingers scrabbling for the lamp. Instead of being pajama-clad and barefoot, she was now wearing a ball gown and... were those glass slippers? Why the hell was she wearing a dress and shoes? She closed her eyes and counted to ten, but when she opened them nothing had changed; which meant she was either hallucinating or crazy, even though the two went hand-in-hand. Wandering out into the living room, she stopped short in the bedroom doorway.

There were mice in her living room. MICE. At least ten of them, and she was pretty sure that big one was a rat. Hannah blinked and edged her way around them towards the door, but they followed her. Literally. She opened the door and stepped outside-- and they followed her into the hallway.

She was in a ball gown, glass slippers that were impossible to walk in; and now she was being stalked by mice. It was official - she'd lost her mind. That, or it was a really bad side effect from her pills.

Running down the stairs didn't work well in her current garb, and she stopped halfway between the 9th and 10th floor to turn on her rodent companions. "Stop following me!"

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-14 08:07 pm UTC (link)
While some of the residents were finding it difficult to adjust to tonight, Vaughn's acceptance was almost effortless. She'd known she was a witch for quite awhile, tonight was only one more element in the grand scheme of her diablerie. Although, she did recognize that tonight, in so many ways, was different than the ones before it.

It was supposed to be unwise for her to wander the building openly, although she could not remember why. What could possibly be a standing force against her? And a dangerous one, at that? She was black magic, and therefore untouchable. She was Vaughn.

But.. was that her birth name? She suddenly wasn't certain, although the unfamiliarity did not worry her. Many names had found her over the years, hand picked by those that feared her, like so many poison apples. They were not her real name, but she wore them with relish because they struck fear in the hearts of men who dared to wander her woods. Her real name was forgotten through the torture of time, and it could stay that way for all she cared. She would be the only one to remember it.. if she ever could remember it.

Vaughn worked for now.

She'd heard sounds on the floors that she passed, but had no interest in pursuing them. She was not one to seek out her victims, they always came to her on the wings of fate. The vain princes and the beautiful young women, all with lessons to learn. They fell into her trap time and time again; if they were good, they were let go. If they were bad -- and the definition on what constituted bad changed from one minute to the next -- they were punished. Just like The Beast.

She remembered the beast then, and knew that it was he who resided at the top of this tower.

No -- Vaughn reeled out of the thought, halting on the stairs suddenly. Daniel lived on the roof of the building, and he was gone. Who was The Beast? Shane? He lived on... she couldn't remember.

It was while sorting these thoughts that the unknown young woman in the ball gown came rushing down toward her. Followed by a scurry of mice, and those barely gave the witch pause. From beneath the stark hem of her hood, none of Vaughn's features were visible, just the dark cast of a shadow and a worn voice that echoed weakly when she spoke. "Oh, child, will you help me up the stairs?"

From beneath the hem of her cloak, she extended a hand. The flesh was spotted with age, blue veined and withered. Fragile to the point of shaking.

It was showtime.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-14 08:48 pm UTC (link)
If Hannah had been able to recognize the change that occurred, she would have realized just how quickly it came upon her. She was confused, even a little scared if truth be told, but as she stared at the mice and started to turn away it made sense. Of course she was dressed like this - she'd just come from the ball. Her fairy godmother had told her to leave by midnight, and she had - but the dress and slippers were still there. Where were her usual rags and frayed slippers? The coachmen and footmen had been turned back into mice and rats, which she found a little sad, and her coach must have been a pumpkin somewhere. Why, then, hadn't this magic faded?

Cinderella - no, her name was Hannah - turned to continue down the stairs, stopping in surprise when she saw the hooded figure in front of her. "Oh--" She hesitated, feeling the mice scurry around her ankles without being particularly bothered by it. "Of course I will." She couldn't just leave someone in need, could she? Hannah took the withered hand in her own gloved one, stepping delicately down the rest of the stairs so she was at the figure's side. "Are you looking for someone? I think I am... or at least, I should be." She really should find the prince, since the magic hadn't faded? But where was he? Something about the eighth floor sounded familiar, but she couldn't figure out why. Besides, this person was going up, not down.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-14 10:38 pm UTC (link)
Whatever might have lay upstairs, it was not necessarily a priority. This blonde beauty held all of the witch's interest; her focus was solitary and easily engaged. Vaughn didn't have a need to climb the higher floors, not anymore. It had only been a curiosity about the gowned woman that brought about the request for help at all.

Although the young woman was beautiful, and was dressed like a princess -- two of Vaughn's favorite types to punish -- she seemed to be sincere. The young woman's heart was genuine, and although nearly bored, Vaughn wasn't disappointed. She squeezed the girl's hand with more strength than her papery fingers should have been capable.

"No, I am not. Who are you looking for, my dear?"

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-14 11:12 pm UTC (link)
Hannah wondered where the figure - she decided that it was a woman, even though it was impossible to be sure - was going, if she wasn't looking for anyone. Perhaps she was just trying to get back to her apartment, although she drew a blank as to why the prince's ball would have been held in an apartment building.

"I... I can't quite remember." She frowned, glancing up the stairs as if it might help jog her memory. "I was supposed to leave by midnight, you see, because the magic only lasted that long-- the footmen turned back into mice, and so did the horses." She gestured down at the group huddled around her feet. "But my dress didn't turn back into rags, and I still have the glass slippers." Part of her wondered if telling the mysterious woman all of this was such a good idea, and another part had no idea where she was coming up with this stuff - but they weren't large enough to have much of an impact. "I'd like to find-- the prince, I think." She didn't sound entirely convinced, and there was something about a stepmother and stepsisters tugging at the back of her mind. "I don't want to go back home to them, not yet."

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-14 11:36 pm UTC (link)
That was a strange bundle of information, and the witch couldn't place what it all meant. So many of the words felt congruent to some memory, or maybe just a dream. Footmen turning into mice, dresses into rags, glass slippers.

Unseen beneath the shadowy frame of her cowl, the witch mused over what she knew about these things. Although, the only definitive answer she could come up with was that because it was magic, she was familiar. She knew a great deal about magic. Maybe this was her magic!

A brief glance down at the huddled mice, one of which tilted it's little face up at her in curiosity, continued that hypothesis. If she could turn a man into a beast, she could surely turn a footman into a mouse.

Maybe that is why she was here, in this strange tower, instead of within her woods. There must be some dark reason that brought her here, and this pretty one was a part of it. Yes, this was all making a great deal more sense.

Mention of the prince is what cued the witch's curiosity, and her fingers tensed on the young woman's silken glove in starved excitement. Perhaps the prince would be who she was meant to punish!

"Let me help you find him, my dear."

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-15 01:21 am UTC (link)
She wasn't aware of the fact that she wasn't making much sense, mainly because it all sounded perfectly rational in her mind. There were moments where her certainty slipped and she realized she was supposed to be in bed, not in the hallway talking to cloaked strangers, but they didn't last long. Hannah glanced down at the mice, wishing they'd stayed in human form.

"You would do that?" A genuine smile lit her features, even though she couldn't see the woman's expression when she offered her assistance. Maybe she should have politely declined and gotten the woman off the stairs before going on her own, but she seemed nice enough. "Thank you."

She decided to go up, since it would be easier for the woman - who was probably old and frail - and the tenth floor seemed very familiar to her. For some reason she thought she lived there, but that couldn't be right. She'd had to take a coach just to get here. "He might be on one of the upper floors." She let go of her hand only so she could link her arm with the other woman's, offering more support. Hannah took a step forward, prepared to move slowly in order to accommodate her new companion while the mice scampered ahead.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-15 01:38 am UTC (link)
The witch linked arms with the woman, who she presumed to be a young princess. The thick, tufted edge of her cloak was folded back across one thin shoulder. Exposing a dark line of her wizened body and the decrepit arm that curled against the young blonde's. Although her face remained cowled, what could be seen of her dress appeared to be a an unfortunate series of tawny rags.

"What is your name, my dear?" The witch croaked the question affectionately as she took one shaky step up the first stair. Her voice was a hardened rasp as she leaned on the support of the princess who was leading the way.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-15 02:18 am UTC (link)
Hannah's glance was brief and fluid, shaped by years of training herself to notice things without being noticed. Her stepmother would stand over her while she made her do the housework but would always become angry if she ever looked up, and her stepsisters-- no, that wasn't right. She didn't have any siblings... did she? She gave her head a light shake, unable to keep back the stab of empathy the sight of the woman's aged body had brought forth. Her own dress seemed to shimmer like diamonds in comparison to what the old woman wore, but little did her companion know that the beautiful gown and jewels were nothing more than magic, a facade that was supposed to end at midnight.

"My name is..." She paused, wanting to say Cinderella without knowing why. Perhaps it was just a nickname. "Hannah." It sounded both wrong and right at the same time, and she pondered why as they slowly ascended the staircase. "Would you mind terribly, madam, if I asked yours?" Although Hannah wasn't usually rude, this was a whole new level of politeness for her.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-15 03:34 am UTC (link)
When the question was redirected to herself, the witch patted Hannah's arm with gentle fondness. She could not remember having ever met a Hannah, but the name struck her with a vague familiarity. She was certain she'd at least heard it once before.

The witch had many names, although that was not typically something to be confided upon strangers, even ones as sweet as Hannah. The shrouded woman tilted her head, and the fur of her cowled hood brushed Hannah's soft shoulder. In her true form, the witch easily stood as tall as some grown men, but that was not now. As the worn figure of an old woman, she was fairly diminutive. Her spine was warped and shoulders were drawn into a faint hunch, which was noticeable even beneath the heavy fall of her cloak.

"You can call me Vaughn," she said finally. It was the only name she remembered.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-15 04:39 am UTC (link)
She did feel guilty for dragging the woman along with her, since it seemed more like she should be sitting down and resting instead of climbing stairs. There it was again, that distinct feeling that she lived on the tenth floor - but somehow she knew her stepmother wasn't here. Hannah knew she was far, far away... so how could she live here? Oh, it was too confusing to think about it too much.

"Vaughn." She repeated the name, liking the sound of it on her tongue - but there was something oddly familiar about it. Where had she heard it before? In vain she tried to remember, but it just wasn't there. Oh, well; maybe she'd remember later. "It's very nice to meet you." As they neared the tenth floor, Hannah decided that the woman needed to rest before they continued. The prince could wait, after all.

"We should stop on this floor," she said gently, guiding her up the last few steps, "And rest for a while."

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-15 11:38 am UTC (link)
The witch liked hearing the name, particularly when spouted from the soft, innocent tongue of another. Vaughn. Yes, as unfamiliar as the name managed to feel, there was a rightness in it. It echoed through her mind with the comfort of nostalgia. Vaughn was as much her name as any of the others that wary travelers gave her over the years.

"You're too kind," the witch murmured, a little breathless from the climb, when they reached the top of the stairs together. Not only had Hannah seen fit to help the old woman, but her compassion recognized that a rest would be in order before continuing. Hannah was indeed as sweet as she was beautiful, she'd make a good princess.

Gathering the fabric of that heavy cloak in her grizzled hands, the witch gestured for them to take a seat on the top stair. It seemed like the perfect place to rest, and she eased to the floor. The old woman's sigh of relief was gentle, but it vibrated the shadowy fall of her cowl.

"Tell me about this prince of your's.." The curiosity in her question was real. After all, what kind of prince neglected his maiden in such dangerous woods? The Black Forest was no place for such innocence to wander freely; many foul things walked these lands that stretched along the border of France and Germany. Never mind that they were quite obviously not in the woods right now, and instead in some form of castle. And never mind that the very idea of France or Germany felt obscenely foreign for a split second.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-15 09:16 pm UTC (link)
Part of her did wonder when she'd become this trusting, so willing to help a stranger and put their needs before her own. It felt right, though, despite the occasional lapses in which none of this made any sense. It was too difficult to think, and all it did was give her a headache and confuse her even further. "It is the least I can do after you offered to help me," Hannah said softly. The mice waited for them at the top of the stairwell, scurrying to the side as she gently eased the old woman into a sitting position.

It was a touch difficult to sit in her dress, but somehow she managed to keep the skirt from spreading out too much. Her feet did hurt, granted, but taking off the glass slippers never occurred to her. Hannah paused as she considered the woman's request, barely noticing how the mice huddled around her feet on the stair below. Why was she finding it so difficult to remember him? One minute there was a vague image in her mind of a well-dressed young man with whom she danced around a ballroom, but it seemed like a distant memory that stretched across an impossible amount of time. Then there was the memory of someone much more familiar and... recent, but he wasn't a prince so she must have been mistaken. "He's very kind," she began slowly, trying to sort out the true memories from the imagined. "Generous, intelligent, and handsome-- I think that's why so many women are desperate to marry him. They don't know him like I do, though." Her voice turned wistful. "I'm really very foolish. He could never love me, because--" She paused abruptly, frowning. "He thinks I'm someone that I'm not." It didn't feel quite right, but the words came on their own.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-16 12:41 am UTC (link)
Now, there was conflict. It began with the urge to smoke, and only spread into other avenues from there.

The thought seemed out of place to her -- smoking? -- but when the witch glanced into her cloaked lap, there was a pack of cigarettes suddenly resting amongst the dark folds of velvet and fur. Her cigarettes. The pack felt strange in her wizened hand, but Vaughn easily folded back the lid and pulled one thin staff loose from it's group coffin. She was still listening to Hannah, although the witch found such a romantic tale quite dull. Kind, generous, intelligent -- what fun was that? Those kinds of princes rarely needed to be punished.

The witch lifted the cigarette to her mouth, and it barely protruded from the dark of her cowl. Although Vaughn did not light it, and the end did not burn, a plume of fresh smoke curled out from the fall of her hood in exhale.

With the taste of smoke came the second conflict. There was a strange desire to climb the stairs, go to the roof. But why? The witch pushed the urge away for the moment, turning toward Hannah with a new question.

"But where is he? Why has your prince left you here?"

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-16 12:55 am UTC (link)
Even though it was a struggle, Hannah was trying to think. It wasn't her who was pretending to be someone else, that much she knew, even with the dress and shoes. But why would a prince need to pretend? Unless... unless he wasn't a prince, but that didn't make any sense at all. Why did everything have to be so jumbled up and confusing? She barely even noticed that the old woman was smoking - which might have struck her as strange if she had - too absorbed in her newest questions.

"He did leave me." That much seemed right to her, and she nodded to herself. "He left me, Vaughn, because... because something happened. Something bad." It didn't fit with her fairy godmother and the prince's ball, but something inside of her was urging her on. "I can't remember what, though. I don't even know where he went-- but I think he's here, now. I just have to find him." Hannah wanted very much to find him, despite whatever it was that happened - she couldn't remember anyway. It made sense, sort of. She'd been at the ball looking for him, because she only had until midnight, but she hadn't found him. Maybe that was why the magic had lasted.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-16 02:01 am UTC (link)
"Something bad?" The witch straightened with real fascination then. Her disconcerting interest with climbing to the roof was gone in that moment. The rising obsession didn't make sense to the witch, and she was eager to brush it aside in favor of this fresh detail. Something bad, Hannah said, and that was exactly the kind of thing that Vaughn could work with. The hollow drum of her heart rattled with an excited beat, oh do tell her.. was it something completely horrible?

"What do you mean, Hannah?" The unspent cigarette was flicked down the stairs, it bounced all the way to the 9th floor landing, and she reached for one of the princess' gloved hands in support.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-16 04:45 am UTC (link)
Something was telling her to keep quiet, but the problem was she wasn't even sure what she was supposed to keep quiet about. Nothing that bad could have happened, right? He wouldn't have hurt anyone, never mind her. Maybe... maybe he hadn't meant to. Yes, that had to be it.

"It's hard to remember," she said carefully, smiling slightly at the feel of the woman's hand in her own. "It must have been while he thought I was-- well, like this." She gestured down at herself. "The rest of the time he would never even glance at someone like me. I couldn't believe he wanted to see me alone, and at first it went very well." The memory was fuzzy, but she did remember that it had started off nice. "It was nice, to be away from all the other people at the ball. But then... then..." Hannah frowned, horror dawning on her. "He changed. He was cruel, and frightening, and he hurt me." She probably wasn't making any sense again, but it didn't seem to matter. She had to be wrong, mixing things up as usual, unable to keep anything straight. Her stepmother was right about her.

"No. No-- I must be mistaken. I'm just confused..." She closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling heavily. "I need to find him, and then he can explain everything, and we can go back to the ball and I won't have to worry about the magic wearing off and having to go back."

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-16 09:48 pm UTC (link)
"I understand," the witch consoled Hannah as she struggled through the memory. Vaughn, herself, was having a difficult time with sorting through the strange myriad of conscious thought she found herself in. She wasn't confused, only conflicted. Part of her wanted to think about Daniel, but the witch was vehement that Daniel -- whoever he was -- did not matter. He was to be punished, not mused over. Just like the Beast; what worry was The Beast to her now? He'd made his choice, and she'd paid him well for it, in the form of a curse that she was fairly certain would never be broken.

Strange, how just as she was thinking this through, Vaughn could have sworn that she heard the echo of an angry roar from some floor above them. Her chin rose for a glimpse up the stairs, thoughtful. A brief cut of light illuminated the deep wrinkles of her face, but then her chin dropped, and it was gone beneath shadows once more.

As Hannah vaguely outlined the cruelty she'd met at the hands of this prince, the witch lifted her fingers. An experimental touch to such delicate, blonde hair. But something Hannah said gave the witch pause, and her withered hands returned to the dark folds of her lap immediately. "What do you mean, the magic will wear off?"

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-17 02:46 am UTC (link)
Part of her wanted to get up and actually look for the prince instead of just talking about it, but she couldn't just leave Vaughn here alone - nor could she make the woman follow her all over the castle. In fact, she probably shouldn't have wandered this far in the first place. The idea of this being an apartment building seemed very absurd, and she wasn't sure why she'd thought it in the first place. Was Vaughn this confused? For that matter, why was she in the castle?

When she felt the woman beside her touch her hair, Hannah turned to face her with a faintly quizzical expression. For some reason the action brought forth a long-ago memory faded by time, of someone - her father? - stroking her hair, and the recollection brought with it a sense of warmth and safety. But her father was dead now... no, he was still alive; he just didn't pay attention to her anymore. Her stepmother and stepsisters had him charmed, except she couldn't quite conjure up an image of what said stepsisters looked like.

"The magic..." For a moment she went completely blank, but then it flooded back to her. "Oh, yes. This magic." She gestured down at her dress and shoes. "The King and Queen decided that it was time for the prince to marry, you see, so they decided to hold a series of royal balls to find him a bride. My stepmother wouldn't let me go, but my fairy godmother came to me and turned my rags into this dress, and the mice into horses and footmen-- oh, and a pumpkin into a carriage." Hannah beamed at Vaughn, cheered by the remembrance. "I danced with the prince for nearly the whole night."

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-17 08:47 pm UTC (link)
Distantly, Vaughn was aware that this was an apartment building. Although the concept of apartment building seemed slightly foreign. She knew that she lived here, or near here.. so this building must have resided somewhere in her forest. As the only possibility, even that seemed scarcely plausible. After all, the only large structure that met with the outlying fringe of her woods was The Beast's castle. Was it possible that this was The Beast's castle, then? With that wonder, all former thoughts of apartment buildings were erased. Yes, the witch realized. Her eyes strayed up the stairwell again, that explained everything.

But as for Hannah's tale, that made no sense to the witch at all. Fairy godmothers? Pumpkin into a carriage? What kind of generous magic was this? Where was the point in it? No curses, no terror, no trickery?

Rather than remind Hannah of her prince's alleged cruelty, or question why Hannah was in this castle in the first place, the witch simply nodded her head. "It all sounds very beautiful, my dear, but are you sure that your prince is here?" Reaching for the stairwell's banister, the witch pulled herself with some effort back to standing. Again, her attention slid up the stairs. Now, she knew what her destination was.

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-17 09:04 pm UTC (link)
The prince's - or whoever she thought was her prince - supposed cruelty was already fading from her mind, replaced by a warm glow of happiness. Yes-- the ball had been wonderful, and the prince only had eyes for her; it was like a dream come true after years upon years spent as a slave in her own home. If the magic hadn't worn off, why did she have to go home? She could stay here, where her stepmother could never find her.

"I'm sure." Hannah didn't know how she could be so certain, but for some reason she was. He had to be here, and she was going to find him... but Vaughn wanted to go up, while she had the distinct feeling that the prince wasn't up there. There were only four floors above her, while there were nine below-- but how did she know that?

"Do you... I feel terrible, but I need to find the prince." Her face was earnest, almost naively so, as she looked at the old woman beseechingly. "I won't leave you if you can't climb up the stairs on your own, though."

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]shebringscurses
2010-03-17 10:21 pm UTC (link)
"I will be fine," the witch assured. As she took one step across the tenth floor landing, her posture seemed different than it had on any of the floors below. Upright, shoulders peeled back stiff and regal as headstones beneath the dark cut of her cloak.

"Your compassion is a rare thing, Hannah. I enjoyed your company, and will spare your beauty." If those were unusual parting words, the witch gave no inclination of noticing. She was already starting up the next set of stairs, this time with vigor. While a curse was always an underlying possibility with Vaughn, she liked this princess. This one was a very rare glimpse of true innocence, and despite Vaughn's personal affairs, even she understood that was something to be rewarded.

"Until next time, Hannah."

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Re: 10th floor stairwell, 12:05 am
[info]noglass_slipper
2010-03-17 10:44 pm UTC (link)
Hannah got to her feet as well, watching the woman curiously. There was something different about her - she just couldn't quite put her finger on what. Instinct told her to insist, but she wisely stayed quiet. If Vaughn said she would be fine, a voice whispered, then she would indeed be fine.

She didn't know what 'spare your beauty' meant, but it wasn't something she dwelt on. After all, Vaughn had been nothing but kind to her, and it was nice to be treated like that. She only took a step forward, but the woman seemed to be handling the stairs fine on her own, and it was then that Hannah knew she could take care of herself.

"Goodbye, Vaughn." For some reason she had the urge to add Good luck, although she didn't know why. Instead she turned to the - her? - mice, wishing once more that they were still human - or at least that they could talk.

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