[12/1: Wed] In the Land of the Blind

If ever there is a city wide meeting, it will be held here. The rules of the Camarilla stand strong here, and Prince Capone is very strict.

Re: [12/1: Wed] In the Land of the Blind

Postby Aesthetic Anarchist » Sun Oct 24, 2010 9:00 pm

It was over. No matter what the rest of the lot would think, Wells included, it was over. Done, with Chicago still in one piece and Ian still somehow standing; miracles happened every night apparently. "Later," he said to Chason's request, knowing it was more of a demand, yes, but deciding just then to be dense. "Let's rest a night on our laurels. Tomorrow will come soon enough." Ian nodded to the man and turned before any protest could come, moving from the dais and through the remaining shards of that ridiculous chair. The others were filing out, thankfully too preoccupied with their own troubles to pay much attention to the prince. Places to go, plots to hammer out, and it at least kept them busy.

Ian crossed the room and took Mary a little forcefully by the hand, worried for a moment that she would protest or another of the Roses would come along or any of a number of things would happen before he could get the both of them out of Elysium. "I know," he muttered in her ear once they were through the door. "Everything you're about to say, I know. Let's just get home, all right?"
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Re: [12/1: Wed] In the Land of the Blind

Postby Maeve Glaistig » Sun Oct 24, 2010 11:40 pm

She hadn't been about to say anything, in fact. There was nothing in particular to say on Elysium grounds, surrounded by other Roses and gossips and god knew who else might be listening. Certainly not anything about what an incredibly stupid move he was making, or how he couldn't possibly be silly enough to not realize what a terrible position he'd put her in, or how she was somewhat enamored of the idea of tossing her hands in the air and her shoe at his nose.

No, she really hadn't been about to say anything right now, so she let him take her hand, smiled and bobbed prettily to the Roses (all of whom, of course, wanted to immediately gain her attention and find out what she wanted and where she would be holding her salons and what her new standards were and what fashions would put them most in favor with the new Primogen, who they were no doubt hoping would be easily marionetted by a few sweet words), and let him lead her out. "Mr. Kross," she said, in between smiles, and it was as satiny smooth as anything she was saying to the Roses, "I should like nothing more than to go home." And then some.
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