L
loyalist_historian
Guest
Original poster
((How old is David? How long has he had this job? Also, what's his last name? Also also, the intention is that he's the head of the military and the police force? That's my understanding of what you wrote =D. But how often do you think he's at the mansion? Is that where he operates out of?))
Carter did not wake Elodie up the next morning before he went downstairs, for which she was grateful when she did wake up. Around 9 AM, Elodie opened her eyes, to notice her husband gone, and his side of the bed was no longer warm. She missed him at that moment, but was grateful that he had allowed her to sleep. She hadn't slept very much in a long while. Elodie pushed the sheets off of herself, stepping off of the bed and moving to the shower, where she scrubbed herself to remove their hardened fluids from the night before. She washed her hair, the mass of curls annoying her. Quickly, she finished, stepping onto the rug and wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel. Elodie brushed out her long red hair, before blow-drying it until it fell straight. A hand-shaped bruise had formed at her jawline where Carter had squeezed the night before, and Elodie blinked harshly when she saw it. She did her best to cover it with makeup, but, then, her complexion was so white that the mark would still be visible to anyone who gave her more than a cursory glance. Elodie stepped into a conservative navy-blue dress, and then she sat back on the bed, holding her head in her hands. For a moment, Elodie could not stop the tears that fell, but she only allowed herself to cry for a minute. She wiped the tears away, and then she stepped out, reminding herself that she needed to talk to their daughter.
Mirette awoke around nine, and quickly dressed. She made her bed, placing everything along the top neatly, and then she left her room, heading downstairs for the dining room. Halfway there, she squeezed her eyes shut. She just. She didn't want to. She turned back for her room, once more, hopping on to her bed. Mirette swung her door closed once she arrived upstairs, but the handle didn't turn all the way and so the door remained slightly open. But Mirette didn't notice--she was preoccupied. Mirette punched her bed post in frustration before collapsing on her bed, finally allowing all of the tears she'd kept in, as well as those she'd just caused out of pain, to fall. She couldn't keep them in any longer, and she didn't need to now that her door--she thought--was closed. Her hand stung, and she held it tightly to her chest, crying heavily now. She just...couldn't.
Elodie heard not only the harsh thud, but also her daughters sobs. She quickly walked to her Mirette's room, ignoring the guards who, to anyone paying attention, very clearly took note of what was going on. Elodie delicately pushed the door open. "...Mirette?" She closed the door behind her, before rushing to her daughters side and sitting on the bed next to her, pulling the girl into her and tenderly taking her hand. "What happened?" Mirette's eyes widened when her mother came in to the room, but quickly melted into her, crying heavily into her mother now. "I-I...I h-hit the bed accidentally, a-and I h-hurt my arm..." The lie was alarmingly easy to tell, she thought, but she didn't care.
((This is after Anne leaves. Anne is already gone when Elodie goes to talk to her. On that note. How does David help her escape if he doesn't have direct authority over the guards, to tell them to turn, where to go, blah blah blah? Do you think they might fall under his jurisdiction, too?))
Carter did not wake Elodie up the next morning before he went downstairs, for which she was grateful when she did wake up. Around 9 AM, Elodie opened her eyes, to notice her husband gone, and his side of the bed was no longer warm. She missed him at that moment, but was grateful that he had allowed her to sleep. She hadn't slept very much in a long while. Elodie pushed the sheets off of herself, stepping off of the bed and moving to the shower, where she scrubbed herself to remove their hardened fluids from the night before. She washed her hair, the mass of curls annoying her. Quickly, she finished, stepping onto the rug and wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel. Elodie brushed out her long red hair, before blow-drying it until it fell straight. A hand-shaped bruise had formed at her jawline where Carter had squeezed the night before, and Elodie blinked harshly when she saw it. She did her best to cover it with makeup, but, then, her complexion was so white that the mark would still be visible to anyone who gave her more than a cursory glance. Elodie stepped into a conservative navy-blue dress, and then she sat back on the bed, holding her head in her hands. For a moment, Elodie could not stop the tears that fell, but she only allowed herself to cry for a minute. She wiped the tears away, and then she stepped out, reminding herself that she needed to talk to their daughter.
Mirette awoke around nine, and quickly dressed. She made her bed, placing everything along the top neatly, and then she left her room, heading downstairs for the dining room. Halfway there, she squeezed her eyes shut. She just. She didn't want to. She turned back for her room, once more, hopping on to her bed. Mirette swung her door closed once she arrived upstairs, but the handle didn't turn all the way and so the door remained slightly open. But Mirette didn't notice--she was preoccupied. Mirette punched her bed post in frustration before collapsing on her bed, finally allowing all of the tears she'd kept in, as well as those she'd just caused out of pain, to fall. She couldn't keep them in any longer, and she didn't need to now that her door--she thought--was closed. Her hand stung, and she held it tightly to her chest, crying heavily now. She just...couldn't.
Elodie heard not only the harsh thud, but also her daughters sobs. She quickly walked to her Mirette's room, ignoring the guards who, to anyone paying attention, very clearly took note of what was going on. Elodie delicately pushed the door open. "...Mirette?" She closed the door behind her, before rushing to her daughters side and sitting on the bed next to her, pulling the girl into her and tenderly taking her hand. "What happened?" Mirette's eyes widened when her mother came in to the room, but quickly melted into her, crying heavily into her mother now. "I-I...I h-hit the bed accidentally, a-and I h-hurt my arm..." The lie was alarmingly easy to tell, she thought, but she didn't care.
((This is after Anne leaves. Anne is already gone when Elodie goes to talk to her. On that note. How does David help her escape if he doesn't have direct authority over the guards, to tell them to turn, where to go, blah blah blah? Do you think they might fall under his jurisdiction, too?))