It's about time that we set it off
Red lights, I could never stop
Red lights, I could never stop
She is there where she always is, a home that wasn't home, an establishment that drew more bad than good--but really how different from that was she herself? There was no other place she frequented more often, a room in the corner at the end of the long hall designated for open rooms waiting to be claimed stamped with her symbol of a red rose. It was hers, and sometimes it saw the likes of those she considered worthy enough of sharing it with her, but come nightfall it would stand empty again while she prowled the Scarab floors in search anything she could find useful.
What did she search for, out there where the grounds were too crowded to make it safely from one end to the other without any contact, where the noise either always seemed too loud or too soft to make anything out, where the secrets somehow always found their way to the surface? Why did she stay there, night after night, refusing to call it home in fact she only ever left to take outside jobs or make headway on her own projects? Why did she go back time after time into the lap of a place that cared not for whatever transpired under its roof, likely a place more dangerous should one not keep their wits about them than being the presence of a god?
Really, there was only one answer, and it lay with someone who only sent in the occasional letter instead of appearing himself.
But how stuck she was, to consider no other options for refuge. And how naive she might have been to drag her baggage into the one place everyone would know to find her. She dared them to find her.
--- --- ---
Raum had been there. She had sent him a letter and he obliged its words, followed her instructions and stepped away from Day long enough to share that space within her room. They had laughed, they had reminisced, they had disagreed, they had understood, and then they had split. It was their cycle, their style, and that time had been no different. She had heard the rumors of a rebellion, the dissent in Day becoming too great for their tyrannical King to quell, and she had feigned concern. Her pieces had always lay where she would benefit the most, and at some points in the past that had been with Raum. But time was proving the need to place that piece elsewhere, and with the rising voices Manon had to take action in a way that would protect her interests the most.
Seraphina lived; she didn't die at the hands of Raum as once thought, and Manon was already switching sides.
And so she had called on Raum to pledge her loyalty to him (for little did she reveal what she had learned and what she intended to do), and he believed her as he always had. With the rising sun they said their goodbyes with a promise to meet again, and she set about to writing her next letter intended for the once-Solterran queen.
--- --- ---
Some days or weeks after obtaining information regarding her father, she had her sights on a boy in the Dusk Court. He knew him, they told her, knew who he was and where he was hiding. Knew how to get to him. And those were not things Manon could pass up, and so she went to the boy in Dusk and feigned a sprained ankle, and after much convincing and struggling they made it to her room.
She had managed to overtake him before he could react to her clearly very healthy body, no sprains that would hold her back from passing the chloroform over his nose and gently laying him down. It was the safest place to keep him, there in her room in the Scarab, away from prying eyes where no one dared go without her invitation in.
Interrogation would begin when he was closer to waking, Erd, the one who seemed far too innocent to know her father; but who was she to question the leads handed to her?
--- --- ---
He slept soundly behind that rose-painted door, and she had slipped out to the second floor. She had other matters to attend to, so what better way to kill time than flattering and wooing the high-status men in Denocte? They fawned over her, with her copper-kissed skin and bones so fine they could cut through glass, and she allowed them her attention long enough to steal their secrets and maybe even their hearts if only for an evening.
While they downed drink after drink, laughter bubbling like her champagne, her slim frame draped over them as they wrapped themselves around her finger, she would have never noticed a girl dressed in the same shades of blues as the servers. And even if she had been quick to catch her face, it would have raised no alarms within her chest; she would not have recognized her, though other patrons might have. The girl was not someone she had met, nor paid any mind to. That might have been her very downfall that night.
Manon quickly skipped from nobleman to nobleman, keeping along the side of the room for an easy getaway should something arise. Perhaps it was the sheer air the stranger carried with her, or the fact that she didn't deviate from a path straight to the crowned woman that raised the initial alarm bells, for none of the Scarab staff dared bother her while she mingled in the lounge. A laugh that trailed off and a smile that lowly began to slip from her dark lips was the only indication that she gave that something was amiss, and with tri-colored eyes she turned to stare at the one approaching.
With a face hidden, and a body covered, Manon wondered what sort of things a mere child could be bringing that was worthy enough to interrupt her.
What did she search for, out there where the grounds were too crowded to make it safely from one end to the other without any contact, where the noise either always seemed too loud or too soft to make anything out, where the secrets somehow always found their way to the surface? Why did she stay there, night after night, refusing to call it home in fact she only ever left to take outside jobs or make headway on her own projects? Why did she go back time after time into the lap of a place that cared not for whatever transpired under its roof, likely a place more dangerous should one not keep their wits about them than being the presence of a god?
Really, there was only one answer, and it lay with someone who only sent in the occasional letter instead of appearing himself.
But how stuck she was, to consider no other options for refuge. And how naive she might have been to drag her baggage into the one place everyone would know to find her. She dared them to find her.
Raum had been there. She had sent him a letter and he obliged its words, followed her instructions and stepped away from Day long enough to share that space within her room. They had laughed, they had reminisced, they had disagreed, they had understood, and then they had split. It was their cycle, their style, and that time had been no different. She had heard the rumors of a rebellion, the dissent in Day becoming too great for their tyrannical King to quell, and she had feigned concern. Her pieces had always lay where she would benefit the most, and at some points in the past that had been with Raum. But time was proving the need to place that piece elsewhere, and with the rising voices Manon had to take action in a way that would protect her interests the most.
Seraphina lived; she didn't die at the hands of Raum as once thought, and Manon was already switching sides.
And so she had called on Raum to pledge her loyalty to him (for little did she reveal what she had learned and what she intended to do), and he believed her as he always had. With the rising sun they said their goodbyes with a promise to meet again, and she set about to writing her next letter intended for the once-Solterran queen.
Some days or weeks after obtaining information regarding her father, she had her sights on a boy in the Dusk Court. He knew him, they told her, knew who he was and where he was hiding. Knew how to get to him. And those were not things Manon could pass up, and so she went to the boy in Dusk and feigned a sprained ankle, and after much convincing and struggling they made it to her room.
She had managed to overtake him before he could react to her clearly very healthy body, no sprains that would hold her back from passing the chloroform over his nose and gently laying him down. It was the safest place to keep him, there in her room in the Scarab, away from prying eyes where no one dared go without her invitation in.
Interrogation would begin when he was closer to waking, Erd, the one who seemed far too innocent to know her father; but who was she to question the leads handed to her?
He slept soundly behind that rose-painted door, and she had slipped out to the second floor. She had other matters to attend to, so what better way to kill time than flattering and wooing the high-status men in Denocte? They fawned over her, with her copper-kissed skin and bones so fine they could cut through glass, and she allowed them her attention long enough to steal their secrets and maybe even their hearts if only for an evening.
While they downed drink after drink, laughter bubbling like her champagne, her slim frame draped over them as they wrapped themselves around her finger, she would have never noticed a girl dressed in the same shades of blues as the servers. And even if she had been quick to catch her face, it would have raised no alarms within her chest; she would not have recognized her, though other patrons might have. The girl was not someone she had met, nor paid any mind to. That might have been her very downfall that night.
Manon quickly skipped from nobleman to nobleman, keeping along the side of the room for an easy getaway should something arise. Perhaps it was the sheer air the stranger carried with her, or the fact that she didn't deviate from a path straight to the crowned woman that raised the initial alarm bells, for none of the Scarab staff dared bother her while she mingled in the lounge. A laugh that trailed off and a smile that lowly began to slip from her dark lips was the only indication that she gave that something was amiss, and with tri-colored eyes she turned to stare at the one approaching.
With a face hidden, and a body covered, Manon wondered what sort of things a mere child could be bringing that was worthy enough to interrupt her.
@
TO LIVE MY LIFE THE WAY I WANT
TO SAY AND DO WHATEVER I PLEASE
click for character page
(Please tag me in every post)
(Please tag me in every post)
