The Abbey

[Vanitypirate]

Tilly watched his expression with the utmost scrutiny, but he wasn't doing anything.

She just sat as he chuckled to himself, shattering the silence in the room with as much alarm brooked in Tilly as what a dropped wineglass would evoke. She withdrew the fidgety hand that cupped his, at last, all while the urge to flee the scene rose in her chest.
He wasn't saying anything. He only chuckled and shook his head, like it was some joke.

She knew, then, in rapid-fire thoughts that she had made a dire mistake in all of this.

It would have been better to await the emergence of more concrete, corporeal evidence that came with the progression of such things, facts that could be proven logically with matters as simple as base biology, a lack of blood or a mysterious nausea. Time would have brought it to reality.

'Lovely'.

Lekalis's actions were too kind to betray any sort of malicious or disbelieving intent, and felt the worry that rose with such a statement wash away in the face of his gentle touch. Her hat pulled back, his hand on her cheek, there was no place to hide, and she was infinitely thankful to have not found a need to.
He trusted her, he believed her, and her heart soared. Had she not been hanging onto each word of his explanation, scrounging for some explanation, she would have kissed him right then and there.

It was a relief, even as he mentioned Roderick; it was a relief that she hadn't the need to explain it to him, too.

"I'd always figured I'd die a spinster." She admitted with a newfound confidence, with her hand in his, his head beneath her brim. "It was not so much an... aversion, as it was an impossibility. I thought Roderick could leave, but I had nowhere to run to. I was only half right."

It was not so difficult to look him in the eye, but putting this new complication to words was proving to be a greater challenge.

"I know, now, that neither of us have anywhere to run to-- I ran out of hidey-holes ages ago." Tilly went on, finding an embarrassingly simple strength in his soothing motions. If all else, she was not alone in this. At her worst, she would at least have a single ally in Lekalis, and that fact alone was invaluable.

"Whether I want it or not, I can't run from my own blood... or yours." She fretted a touch somberly, her eyes upon his inky ones.
"I just don't know how to make this... work.I don't have the gold to retire-- I don't even have a home to live in. We haven't even married yet."

It was as though her worries caught up to her as soon as they left her mouth.

"Do you think anyone would... understand? It's so damnably early; you saw how Grace was acting..."

[Outisakanobody]

Grace didn't even spare a glance at the girl who addressed her, as if she hadn't spoken at all. She kept on as she had been, ascending some stairs now, slowly, moving toward the abbey's bell tower.

[Shinzon]

"G-Grace?!" repeated the young woman again, clearly worried. She swallowed, hesitant, and tentatively approached her hand, before finally putting it on her arm. "Grace, a-answer me!"
It seemed unlike the woman to be so catatonic, and it terrified the former vestal.

[Outisakanobody]

Grace looked at Maria, finally, her gray eyes as dark and stormy as a hurricane. "Leave me be. I've nothing for you." she grumbles as she continues towards the bell tower steps.

[Shinzon]

Marie recoiled in fear, remaining still for a moment, looking down to the floor in shame. What is her fault? After all, she should have tried to remain with Grace, despite her problems with the Church. She was one of the few people who ever looked out for her, and now, she felt like she let the woman down. Eventually climbing up the steps after the vestal, going faster in order to catch up, she spoke again, her voice choking slightly.
"Why? What happenned, Grace?"

[Outisakanobody]

"I'm...tired...very tired...of this place and these people and myself. Tired of it all..." Grace moped.

[Shinzon]

"Why so?" asked the young woman, her instinct kicking in; already she was searching for a way to help the Abbey's headmistress. "Why are you so tired of... everything, Grace?"
As she spoke, she started to secretly adjust the syringes of her glove. She couldn't see many reasons for them to climb up the stairs to the bell tower... and none of them were good.

[Outisakanobody]

"I can't stand this place any anymore...there's nothing here for me..." Grace says as she climbs the stairs.

[Shinzon]

"But, Grace-"
Maria stopped speaking, as she suddenly realized what the vestal was talking about. Running to catch her by the arm, she took her arm once more, clenching her teeth and risking a glance down. They were already up a bit alright; and her vertigo wasn't helping in this situation.
"That's not true", she said timidly. "People care about you, people count on you!"

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

"I think folk that should matter to us would understand." He reasoned quickly, and earnestly; there was steel behind his words that had them come out a touch harsher than he intended. Lekalis was well aware, as his almost apologetic shrug and glance away would signify.

"Yeah, someone will understand, I'm sure of it. The world's frighteningly colorful outside the drab greys and browns and blues of Europe, after all." He chuckled and nudged her shoulder with his hand again, pulling both of his and her one, to rest lightly on her knee.
"You shouldn't forget that this grave of ours is home to miscreants and outcasts, above all else. Folk with a queer mindset already." Lekalis went on to emphasize, as he chuckled yet again, finding amusement in her words, as he mulled them over.

"... And... Yeah... I've run out of castles to hide in too." He smirked, sombering up, as he closed the last distance between them, and pressed his brow against hers, looking down at their hands, where he still idly ran his thumb over her gloved knuckles.

"You can help me set up my Bathhouse, you know... There's more to forging our path in gold than harrowing expeditions." He offered, a smile brandishing his teeth and betraying a subdued excitement; his eyes flicked to look over hers in that moment, noting its fretful nature, he himself withheld a measure of delight.
"Once we have that established, we'll have a... A source of income, past the expeditions. But until then, we need to rake in as much as we can. Until you're... otherwise... Occupied." Lekalis chuckled, bringing their intertwined fingers to idly poke and prod at her belly button with his thumb, to allude to just what might be occupying his sosaid Love.
His eyes had cast downwards to inspect that desirous part of anatomy, he could feel his breath catch in his throat, before he let it out in a sigh. His eyes looking back to Tilly's after the momentary praise.

"We'll marry before anyone notices... If needs, we can do it in quiet; gather those we hold close, and commence the ceremony. Then, later... Perhaps then we can have something more... Ostentatious", dragging out that last word with an equally ostentatious air. The Ex-Lord gave her an affectionate squeeze about the hands, as he smirked,

"You needn't fret none over the hodgepodge drama of it all; moreover, have a mind to tell me how you're feeling--" His manner became a bit more calculating, his smirk flattening out into something mirroring Florence's own flat nature.
"-- We must stay atop this... Our child; have a mind to be more careful, would you? Not just to pity my poor tiny heart." he crooned, kissing the side of Tilly's oblong nose with a growing smile yet again.

"We'll have my bath-house-- or, rather, Our bath-house now, I suppose. And perhaps we can arrange things from there... I'm sure the Hamlet will need trainers, guides, the works." Lekalis supposed with a confident smile and shrug,
"We can make this work... Not you, nor I; but together: Us." He found himself speaking words of similar sentiment not but a few hours ago, to Florence... Perhaps they weren't too different in that regard.


//

[Outisakanobody]

"Even if that were true I wouldn't care. I don't want anyone relying on me." Grace says bitterly, trying to tug herself further up the stairs.

[relentless]

Aug 14, 2017 17:18:40 GMT -8 Vanitypirate said:

Florence sat at her perch in front of the desk as Libourg went about his ministrations with as much grace as a moth spinning dizzily about a lantern-- that is to say, there was a distinct lack of grace in his movements. As such, Libourg was in frighteningly good company with the stiff-limbed doctor.

"I thank you." She nodded her beaky head as her arm moved, like a lever upon a pivot in desperate need of oiling, to plunge the tip of her quill into the open inkpot. Although, upon second consideration, she plucked up the pot and moved it to the side of the desk opposite to where Libourg was situated.

Upon third consideration, she found it prudent to shuffle her notes, and to cleverly turn to a page with less incriminating information written on it-- namely, one filled to the brim with dull medical terminology and vaguely Italian verbage.

"I sleep here." She informed him with equal drabness.

Eventually, after an awkward settingup of the pile of books, dusting off the book covers and positioning them neatly atop each other, he looked back toward Florence with a furrowed brow as he remained squated.

"You... sleep here?"
Libourg scoffed in disbelief, chuckling at the 'jest' as he sombrely made his way back toward the desk, whirling his way round to the other end, before planting himself down.

"It's not a good place to sleep, creaky chair and a mouldy desk. Why would a professor of such scientific endeavours rest in such a place? After all, most of these books are mainly about religious understanding, culture beliefs and otherwise... though I haven't been here much."
Libourg says as he stretches in his chair, his injured gore arm resting against his chest.

[Shinzon]

"There is a huge margin between what one wants and what one does, Grace."
Slowly preparing herself, she knew what she had to do. Not only was the vestal ahead of her, her back turned, but she was in quite a catatonic state. Inhaling deeply, the young woman threw ethics out of the window. Again.

And so she lunged forward, aiming with surgical precision, aiming to sink the syringe strapped to her index right in the headmistress' inner arm, knowing where the vein would be located. Gritting her teeth, she hoped that Grace would not struggle too hard, or else she might miss the vein; and, although the powerful sedative would still work, it would take more time, and could cause damage to the tissue - or even the muscle. But she had to take the risk.

[Vanitypirate]

"Grace mattered to me."

Tilly was rather glum, in contrast to Lekalis' steel, at the words. Grace, indeed, was one of her last bastions of companionship. If her most long-standing friend offered such a callous, but understandable, reaction, she could not fathom the reaction from those who did not know her quite as well.
Beyond her, beyond Tilly's own Love, she was rightly on her own; Courcy hardly trusted her, it was plain to see, and Brenton threatened to stick a knife in her back just as well as he offered to help.
There was Jacques, if she dared to turn to him; she could always write him, and he may care to know. And Ariana, if she could find her.

"Who else do you hold close...?" She asked, perhaps with some desperation at the realization of her own, dwindling pool of dearly-loved ones.

She hadn't expected to grow so alone-- only mostly alone, she reminded herself.

It was a drastic change, though, as a period of lying down, tending to a business at home unfolded in her own mind-- granted, after a brief rush of expeditions. It was not an unfair duty, given the circumstances, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth.
Of course, there was the alternative of becoming terribly poor and starving that made the homefulness of the first option not quite as terrible.

Despite it, she gave a small smile at the kiss on her rather prominent nose as she leaned into him-- the smile went wide at the ticklish prods and pokes at her abdomen as she squirmed, and then retaliated with a kiss of her own, aimed right on his cheek in much the same way as that first, fatal kiss behind the abbey.

She had come to a resolution, of sorts:
It would be messy.
It would be very unfortunate to her reputation.
It would be a terrible drain on her wealth.

"Ah, pardon me..."

But she had someone she could trust to lean on, who would trust to lean on her. And perhaps it would be enough.

"We'll make this work, then." She affirmed, clasping her a palm over Lekalis', what which squeezed her own, other hand.

[Outisakanobody]

Grace didn'tstruggle so the syringe went true, the vestal making a small pained noise as she looked at her arm then at Maria. "What did you do..." she asks softly.