The Madame gently put her hands on the girls. "My child…I do not understand what it is like to have a family, but I can feel your love for them. I will not try and convince you to go. I can only ask you consider it. While these people in this room may look better than you, while you may be intimidated by them; I can feel you have something to offer they need. You have that love in you, and something else they do not. I cannot ask you to stay, nor can I command you do it. I can only hope you choose what you want most." She gently took the tea now. "Thank you, dear." She sighed and sipped it, hoping to regain some strength.
Thatcher’s lips pulled into a tight, tense line. He was unsure of what his point in being there was. Sure, if someone needed killing, he could simply have Morana take care of it if he couldn’t. Either that, or someone had to write the names of who they wanted dead on the notepad. But binding a reaper was dangerous. He remembered a time, many centuries ago, when a human had gotten ahold of the notepad, and used him to kill many innocent people. Of course, when given the chance to free himself, Thatcher slaughtered the ignorant man.
Still, he shifted the thoughts from his mind and rolled the pen back and forth under his hand, brow furrowed in thought.
Luella bows her head, with a soft, "Thank you, Madame." She steps away again, back to the table, but this time she chooses to sit, pulling her bag to rest on her lap. There's a lot for her to think about, yet she knows that her heart is set. She wants to help, in whatever way she can, to ensure a future for her family. She left for an adventure, to learn about the world. It seems this experience will be a very important lesson to learn. Albeit, a somewhat terrifying one.
(Nice reference! @Opia ^^)
The Madame took a deep and shaky breath, slowly sipping the tea. "Whoever wishes to go, I'll need to help you get the map from the King…to do so, I need you to sneak into his palace and his office while he is performing my execution. His office is behind the throne room, the map will be something that is clearly out of place. You need to get it and get out of this damn capital before he catches you."
(Gonna go for a bit, feel free to have your characters get to know eachother I should be back in a few hours ^^)
(Aye thanks)
Thatcher nodded, The Madame’s words snapping him from his thoughts. “Why don’t we just take you out of the capital?” He further questioned. Hi mind was always busy, going over alternatives and logistics. There were so many different options skimming in and out of his thoughts, but he couldn’t seem to keep them long enough to really consider them. His mind felt too messy.
(Back~)
The Madame tilted her head. "Taking me out of the capital? How would that work, child?"
Luella thinks to herself, before she muses aloud, "If you were to go missing, would that not provide ample distraction for us to take the map? And then nobody would need to die." She knows it's an optimistic outlook, but, she doesn't like the idea of blood on her hands. She knows very little of politics here, it was never something her family discussed. It doesn't stop her feeling something heavy in her gut.
Thatcher frowned at The Madame’s choice of words. If it had been anyone else calling him child, he would have struck them. His eyes flickered over to the other girl, eyed narrowing in thought. “Possibly, but even while they searched, they would be on a high alert.”
Slowly the rouge lowered his head. "The Matriarch will not be persuaded, we must respect her decision. She has no wish to leave these walls alive, seen more than her share of the world. We must not stand in the way, only find what we must do to carry on her wishes." Long ago he had learned to respect life, and respect when one had made the decision to sacrifice themselves. Calling her the Matriarch is a tell-tale sign that he is from the Fog, and he wonders if the others will pick up on it.
Luella sighs, withdraws in on herself once more. Her feet sliding beneath the chair, her ankles crossed. There is experience at play here that she doesn't have, and she respects that. But it is hard to understand why someone would walk so willingly to their deaths. The great moral question, she supposes. Would you sacrifice your one life for many? It used to be a common topic of debate amongst her siblings. But she thinks for now, it is easier to be quiet and learn. She'll need all the knowledge she can get.
Thatcher frowned more at the man’s word choice. Matriarch, it sounded familiar. Morana shifted in the corner of the room, the ears of her three head spinning back tightly as she laid down. The hound gave a sound that seemed to be a mix of a clicking noise and a low growl. Thatcher shifted his gaze to the hound and gave a quick click of his tongue, seeming to understand the beast.
He turned his attention back to the group at the table. He thought about the options a bit more, blindly grasping for the jumbled thoughts in his mind. He made a slight hum in response to what the man said, boot tapping on the floor.
The Monarch gave them only that pretty motherly smile. "Children…I am touched you wish to save me somehow, but I know that some things just have to happen." She sipped her tea and moved to the other desk in the room to get them some paperwork, handing a stack to each of them. "I've already approved of all the supplies you need, take these to the markets to gather your things before you go. I've also gotten your transportation out of the capital, all you need to do is get the map from the Kings office and leave with the supplies you gather."
The cloaked man nods, hood still completely covering his face. "I will do what I can. I promise, Matriarch." Taking the offered papers he looks them over, and stills in surprise. "I cannot possibly accept all of this. Not from you." For a moment he seems to calm himself, knowing that she wishes for him to have it. "Thank you Matriarch, for everything. I cannot offer you much in return, only a painless death if you would allow me. You should not be burned like the others were."
Luella flinches at the mention of burning, the reality of the situation settling in on her. She sits frozen before looking through her papers in silence. Trying to understand what is about to happen. To grieve for what she has not yet lost. She says only a quiet, "Thank you, Madame." It is barely louder than a sigh. She knew she had lived a sheltered life until now. She did not know just how sheltered.
Thatcher continued to stay silent as he flipped through the papers. Did he really need all of these items? He had gotten by with just his notepad and pen, scythe, and Morana just fine for centuries. He didn’t think that any of this would be useful to him. He didn’t say that out loud, of course. He had to simply appreciate the Madame’s offer in his silence.
( Wow, thanks for starting without me…)
Lizzy had stayed silent the entire conversation, not wanting to participate for now, but watching from the distance observing what was happening. She had listen for what Madame was planning to do. She thought it was unnecessary, but she was willing to do what she wanted. She tapped a message on the table without thought and was confused on what it said. Why? She was glad the others in the room probably didn't know it.
Raising his head, one of the figures looks over at Lizzy. "Why do you ask?" Definitely masculine in nature, a strange melodus quality to it. He doesn't seem unkind, and seems genuinely curious.
Lizzy was genuinely startled by his reply to her. " What do you mean?" She asked in a soft , calming tone.
(Sorry guys I got called into work but I'm back now.)
The Madame looked between them all then outside… "I suggest you all quickly get your things together. I would hate to see you leave important things behind. Quickly, go."
"Once again I will offer to give you a death with grace, and set fire to this place in your absence. I fear there are a great many things here that the king should not see, many more than we could ever hope to carry. For you, Matriarch, I would call Shadows to try and save some of the knowledge kept here." Using the word again, 'Matriarch,' an odd word to choose. A ring to it that light folk wouldn't use.
Turning back to Lizzy, he shakes his head as if to clear it. "Apologies, I must have been hearing things."
The Madame looked at him…and slowly nodded. "I suppose you're right. A fire it shall be then." She glided her hand along the desk, clearly sad to see her life go, but still accepting of it.
He in turn nodded his head. "I can give you the choice of your death, Matriarch. Fire. Poison. Suffocation. Knives. Choose and I will make it so. Those 'kingsmen' will not have their pleasure in killing you. You deserve so much more than to die here Matriarch, but you will not die alone." As strong as he seems to be, the next breath he draws holds the hint of a tremor, as if he s trying not to cry.
