Madeleine Gray (burnlyrical) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-09-29 06:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | #solo, 2009-07-28, madeleine |
Would you mind if I killed you?
Who: Madeleine + familiar
Where: Her home
When: Mid-afternoon
Not a single word had been uttered since the front door closed. There was still a steady hum of fury throughout the house that the fires would not allow to die. Despite all the open windows, the temperature within the building would have driven anyone else insane.
Ulysses had successfully shaken her with the mysteriously shattering glass in the next room. The first book that flew at her had knocked any illusion of her own safety out of her, and those that followed had left her dwelling in a head full of white noise. As soon as the books hit the floor, Madeleine had torched them. She didn't bother looking to see what they were first. They could have been first editions of the first books ever printed and she would still have left them as piles of ash. No one treated her like that. No one. Anthony had hit her once and she had been out of the door faster than he could recall what his own element was. She did not have that luxury here. Her sense of vulnerability had been stripped bare in a matter of seconds, and she had had to let Gibbon walk away, unable to retaliate because her hands were tied. Ulysses boasted the acquaintance of Zaviar, which automatically drew a line she would not cross willingly. The bastard had just left, leaving her framed by telekinetic projectiles and no means by which to erase how weak she felt. Never would she admit that he may actually have frightened her. That the reminder of how, out of all of her acquaintances, she seemed to be the breakable one, may have shaken her more than anyone had managed in the past. It was bad enough that Gibbon may have felt it himself and that, at some point, Antonin would pluck it from her mind. The words would never make it past her teeth.
The idea of warning Antonin that his arch nemesis was too close for comfort crossed her mind as she eyed the remains of her mother's shattered vase. The glass had spread right across the floor, as though he done it deliberately to keep her away from the hearth. The bastard had somehow succeeded in setting up barriers inside her own house. It could stay there. Madeleine wasn't cleaning up after his temper. The books, they had become her own temper, but this? Abandoning the mess and the notion of doing her cousin a favour, she seized a bottle of wine and a glass, kicking off her shoes on her way up the stairs. He may have cut her off from one hearth, but the second was in her room. It disturbed her that it took Ulysses Gibbon to make her realise she had somehow mended her connection with her element. It disturbed her even more that it could not comfort her.
Althea found her on her bed, legs curled up underneath her. The bottle on the bedside table was half-empty. 'What is that?'
"Wine," was the delayed response. She was drowning her sorrows, for want of a better phrase. Frankly, she'd rather torch them, but setting light to alcohol defied the point of drinking it. The snake was skirting around her and the main subject on her mind as delicately as she could. She was a blunt thing by her very nature -- they both were, even if Madeleine knew how to behave otherwise -- but contrary to her behaviour thus far, she knew when to be quiet. "Alcohol," the elemental clarified at length, realising that her first answer meant nothing to Althea. "Intended to calm me down." Or just numb her. She needed to smother the fury that her element was practically feeding before she could consider herself a functioning human being. Right now, she was crippled by her temper and obstinately refusing to leave the sanctuary of her bedroom.
'Is it working?' The snake approached with a fair amount of caution, slowly draping herself across her ward's lap when she showed no signs of objection.
"In a manner of speaking," she mumbled, running her fingers over Althea's scales before setting aside the wine and curling up underneath her. The fires alone weren't comforting, but the addition of her familiar was. "Zaviar said hello."