Even Compulsion cannot stop the tears from flowing over as Shelley runs from the garden into the white stone hall of Ishamael's house. Her footsteps echo above the sound of her sobs as she slows and stops, standing still and waiting for the red-and-black liveried servants that approach her calmly. The girl hears her own voice as if from a very long way away.
"I am Shelley Winters. Ishamael sent me to you."
Although she never calls him that, she thinks oddly. as the two men before her bow deeply and turn as one to escort her between them deeper in through the twisting corridors. She is still weeping when the servants open a door for her and exchange a few words with a woman dressed in different livery - a slightly higher class, if she remembers right - then bow to her again and withdraw, door locking behind them. The golden-haired woman approaches her, dropping a curtsey in the way she had always hated before - it felt so awkward - and looking up in some concern.
"My lady? My name is Loira- I am to attend you, if you find me acceptable."
Miserable, unable to scream or move or stop herself crying - Trillian, Nita, Kim, oh God - Shelley nods. Encouraged, the woman steps closer, taking Shelley deferentially by the arm.
"There is a bath drawn for you- I will soon have you feeling better. Was it the portal that upset you? Lord Ishamael has a great deal of power, but he has made it very clear - you are an honoured guest."
One that is locked in and mindcontrolled not to cause trouble, she thinks bitterly, but goes along. There is no point getting the woman in trouble for not doing her job. No point.
He's killing them and here I am... taking a bath!
She shivers as the woman helps her disrobe - easy to slip back into these habits, very easy.
"I am Shelley Winters. Ishamael sent me to you."
Although she never calls him that, she thinks oddly. as the two men before her bow deeply and turn as one to escort her between them deeper in through the twisting corridors. She is still weeping when the servants open a door for her and exchange a few words with a woman dressed in different livery - a slightly higher class, if she remembers right - then bow to her again and withdraw, door locking behind them. The golden-haired woman approaches her, dropping a curtsey in the way she had always hated before - it felt so awkward - and looking up in some concern.
"My lady? My name is Loira- I am to attend you, if you find me acceptable."
Miserable, unable to scream or move or stop herself crying - Trillian, Nita, Kim, oh God - Shelley nods. Encouraged, the woman steps closer, taking Shelley deferentially by the arm.
"There is a bath drawn for you- I will soon have you feeling better. Was it the portal that upset you? Lord Ishamael has a great deal of power, but he has made it very clear - you are an honoured guest."
One that is locked in and mindcontrolled not to cause trouble, she thinks bitterly, but goes along. There is no point getting the woman in trouble for not doing her job. No point.
He's killing them and here I am... taking a bath!
She shivers as the woman helps her disrobe - easy to slip back into these habits, very easy.