shelley_winters | (no subject)

(no subject)

Shelley doesn't move for a few minutes, the soft wind outside the windows roaring mutedly in her ears. Slowly, she pushes herself up on her elbow, dry-eyed and distracted. The blood soaking the front of her dress has cooled quickly, feeling sticky and horrible. The knife lies beside her, and with dizzying fascination she notes the faint line of red along the end of the blade.

The girl doesn't move again, cold and silent. More than anything, she feels sick.

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The door slid open and Vashti hurried in quickly. Her orders from Lord Ishamael had been fairly indistinct just to care for Lady Shelley while he was recovering. Her eyes flitted about the room as she called out.

"Lady Shelley, I heard there--"

Her eyes caught sight of the blood-soaked redhead.

"--Qana Azkara!"

Shelley looks up at the Head Maid, white-faced, and pushes herself up to sit tensely on the seat, wincing as the motion twists her left arm. Red streaks are drying on her cheek, like a kind of macabre warpaint.

Lifting her black and red skirts, Vashti hurried to Shelley's side, peering down carefully she quietly inquired. Carefully avoiding thinking of the consequences of not having Shelley well by the time Ishamael returned, Vashti had little need to feign concern.

"Are you hurt, mistress?"

Shelley shakes her head convulsively, trying to clear it.

"...W-what?"

She looks down, swallowing hard at the red-stained gown. Hurt. She wants to know... The girl chokes back hysterical laughter, ducking her head and breathing slowly to calm down.

"Only a-a bit. He went."

Vashti was taken aback by her response. What... She had always thought that Lady Shelley was a bit odd, but this was beyond even eccentricity. Lady Shelley was mad. Somewhere in Vashti's mind, she wondered why this surprised her as much as it did.

"Do you... need a Restorer?"

Something was not right here... There was a large amount of blood on Lady Shelley but she did not seem to be overly injured, and Ishamael had been...

"No."

A hand covers the thin cut on her arm almost absently. No Healing, definitely not. It's hard to breathe, just in one room. After a pause, Shelley reaches for the window latch.

Vashti nodded warily as she watched Shelley's actions. There was something so very off about this situation. The uneasiness, the excessive amount of blood on Shelley for her apparent lack of injuries, Lord Ishamael's sudden departure to the Restorer... Glancing about the room carefully, she saw the blood-stained knife.

Oh.

Oh my...

Unable to stop herself, Vashti inquired quietly, uneasily.

"Lady Shelley... di-did you stab, Lord Ishamael?"

Shelley doesn't look around, struggling with the latch. If only. She couldn't have managed it if she tried, and...

Grimly, after a moment of quiet,

"He did it all himself."

That... made even less sense. Was she rationalizing her behavior? No matter, unless this was some weird test from Ishamael, and that prospect terrified her, Vashti would do as she was told.

"...Very well."

Leaning forward, Vashti twisted one of the latches and opened the window. What exactly was she wanting with the window? Surely, she did not think that she could actually escape? Not that Lady Shelley was demonstrating a lot of rationality...

But the girl sits back, breathing as evenly as she can in the slightly damp breeze, which admittedly isn't very. She is silent, kneeling next to a sharp knife which she ignores determinedly.

Her head still buzzes, but the cool air helps.

After watching Shelley for a moment, Vashti quietly inquired. It had been a very long time since she had been a lady's maid, but there was little to the matter really.

"Should we get you out of those bloody clothes?"

Shelley nods.

"Okay."

She doesn't actually move, but looks uncertainly in the direction of the bathroom.

"I'll go and have a wash."

There was no way that Vashti was leaving Shelley alone for an instant lest she have to answer for Ishamael for it. With an impressive amount of deference in her tone, she quietly inquired of Shelley.

"Should I ready a bath, mistress?"

Shelley shakes her head, then glances at Vashti, eyes suddenly sharp.

"Not your mistress. Where did that come from?"

Then she bites her lip hard and looks away, waving a vague hand - a small red cut in the centre of her palm.

"Never mind. I'll go in the shower."

Backing away slightly, Vashti commented quietly. What was wrong with this girl? Something was definitely... more off than usual, though she had apparently just stabbed the man who loved her so who knew what to expect from her?

"Of course I am, Lady Shelley, you are the lady of this house and as such, that is your title."

Pausing momentarily, Vashti commented quietly.

"Let me help you with the dress, and I will have new garments sent for."

"You know I don't want to be here."

Really, they all must, at least to some extent. It's not really a secret. A deeper breath, and she stands up, swaying only very slightly.

"I don't need help. He keeps some dresses in here. In the boxes over there."

If anyone else touches her today, she will scream. And she doesn't think she'll be able to stop.

Vashti was never particularly inclined to investigate into the niceties of Lord Ishamael and Lady Shelley's relationship, what she did see made little sense, but given the individuals involved she did not expect it to do so.

"...It is not my place to comment. Now, what dress would you like, mistress?"

Shelley walks to the bathroom deliberately slowly.

"Something modest. Please."

If he bothered to have anything of the kind on hand.

It was Vashti's business to know everything about the house that she could and so it takes little time to select Shelley's garments. She knew better than to offer a black dress. While she never understood Lady Shelley's bizarre sense of modesty, she suspected that the choice between walking about clad in nothing or in a black gown might be easily made.

With garments in hand, she quickly strode over to the bathroom door. As she suspected, Shelley had locked it. Inputting the override code, the door slid open. Barring places locked personally by Ishamael, and his private study which no one, not even Lady Shelley may enter, Vashti could enter any place in the building and access nearly all security feeds.

From inside the shower, Shelley glares in Vashti's direction, her expression hidden by the opaque door. She is still fully dressed, apart from her shoes, not having had time to disrobe before she heard the lock click open.

Stepping inside, she set the clothes down on the counter and stepped around the shower door to see Shelley standing in her bloody dress in the shower. This just got more and more odd. With a sigh, she stepped into the shower after Shelley.

"Let me help you with that dress, mistress."

"No. Get out, I can do it."

She does not need help to take off a stupid dress that she put on in the first place - and why is the woman in the shower with her, what is wrong with people here?

Vashti nodded calmly. What an utterly insolent girl... No matter. Just smile and nod. Stepping out of the shower stall, Vashti stood in the door with her hands folded in front of her.

"If you need any help, please ask. I will take the garments when you are finished and have them dealt with."

Shelley nods.

"...Thank you."

She attempts to pull the door shut, but is prevented by Vashti's presence. There is a pause as she waits for the woman to move away - when it doesn't happen, her expression closes.

"D'you mind?"

Vashti nodded calmly. Her sense of modesty was very odd, she knew. What was the problem with undressing in front of one's maid, even if she is a substitute? She was mad.

"Ah, yes."

Calmly, Vashti turned her back to Shelley. While she was loathe to allow the girl opportunity to conceal a weapon on her person, she could afford the girl some of her bizarre modesty.