The doors were closed behind him, shutting the open living space complete with a small fire—one fit for a townhome of this size—from the world without. Isabella-sama generally scoffed at his hate for the chill. It didn’t bother her like it did him; it hadn’t for ages since she’d grown accustomed to more European weather patterns—ice, snow, and at once point stone palaces with corners freckled in frost. But it would always agitate him.
Always.
His bare feet padded across a large rug covering wood floors that were likely installed when the home was built in the late 1800s, stopping only to gaze upward towards a stairway that led up to a loft-room. Silver eyes laced with cool blue focused on a set of emerald ones cutting through the dark. At the very same time something pricked at his senses before a knock at the door sounded.
“It’s a woman.”
Marcus took pause at that, his eyes narrowing as Isabella-sama’s voice whispered within his skull. “Odd,” he mused aloud. And perhaps dangerous. They were not expecting a woman. Any woman, for that matter. The last long distance phone call he’d placed had indicated that O'Rourke was coming in person. Unless he’d mistaken the voice, or had been misled, there was no reason for a woman by herself to show up for the transaction. Well... unless they had some other sort of visitor; which was highly unlikely.
“Are you going to answer it?”
“You certainly can’t,” he told her.
“I could, but it might be unwise.”
Marcus refrained from snorting at her jest. Instead, he took the hint and checked the ring on his finger, assuring it was still there should he need it, and went towards the stairs leading down. He passed by the another open space that was a kitchen, living room, and dining area all rolled into one: In the kitchen a large counter operated as both a work station for cooking and table with stool seating; another fireplace was on the far right wall, two couches across from one another, there were also a few bookcases, and then a single antique cushioned chair adjacent to the two couches and between them on the end farthest from the fireplace. A wooden and round coffee table sat between.
As he neared the door, he could tell the water for his tea was nearly ready to boil. He would take care of it after, he supposed. For now, he braced himself for the cold as he opened the door.
What he found standing there was not expected or unexpected, but he took in the redhead all the same. She wasn’t dressed for winter, making him think she wasn’t as disinclined towards the cold as he was. He didn’t want to call her a mouse, but at a height that was well under his own six-feet and one inches, she did seem tiny. Size, he’d learned in his long life though, was rarely an adequate measure of power.
Still, he retained his stiff detachment and responded politely to her presence. “Can I help you?” It was easy to tell he had a slight accent, but it was also just as easy to tell that it had faded over the years. Generations, actually, but she wouldn’t know that.
“She’s quite lovely,” Isabella-sama said in his skull.
He didn’t like to imagine she was spying down at the girl from the balcony above... somehow. It really wouldn’t do for people on the street to spot her, but Marcus didn’t reply, even telepathically.
Always.
His bare feet padded across a large rug covering wood floors that were likely installed when the home was built in the late 1800s, stopping only to gaze upward towards a stairway that led up to a loft-room. Silver eyes laced with cool blue focused on a set of emerald ones cutting through the dark. At the very same time something pricked at his senses before a knock at the door sounded.
“It’s a woman.”
Marcus took pause at that, his eyes narrowing as Isabella-sama’s voice whispered within his skull. “Odd,” he mused aloud. And perhaps dangerous. They were not expecting a woman. Any woman, for that matter. The last long distance phone call he’d placed had indicated that O'Rourke was coming in person. Unless he’d mistaken the voice, or had been misled, there was no reason for a woman by herself to show up for the transaction. Well... unless they had some other sort of visitor; which was highly unlikely.
“Are you going to answer it?”
“You certainly can’t,” he told her.
“I could, but it might be unwise.”
Marcus refrained from snorting at her jest. Instead, he took the hint and checked the ring on his finger, assuring it was still there should he need it, and went towards the stairs leading down. He passed by the another open space that was a kitchen, living room, and dining area all rolled into one: In the kitchen a large counter operated as both a work station for cooking and table with stool seating; another fireplace was on the far right wall, two couches across from one another, there were also a few bookcases, and then a single antique cushioned chair adjacent to the two couches and between them on the end farthest from the fireplace. A wooden and round coffee table sat between.
As he neared the door, he could tell the water for his tea was nearly ready to boil. He would take care of it after, he supposed. For now, he braced himself for the cold as he opened the door.
What he found standing there was not expected or unexpected, but he took in the redhead all the same. She wasn’t dressed for winter, making him think she wasn’t as disinclined towards the cold as he was. He didn’t want to call her a mouse, but at a height that was well under his own six-feet and one inches, she did seem tiny. Size, he’d learned in his long life though, was rarely an adequate measure of power.
Still, he retained his stiff detachment and responded politely to her presence. “Can I help you?” It was easy to tell he had a slight accent, but it was also just as easy to tell that it had faded over the years. Generations, actually, but she wouldn’t know that.
“She’s quite lovely,” Isabella-sama said in his skull.
He didn’t like to imagine she was spying down at the girl from the balcony above... somehow. It really wouldn’t do for people on the street to spot her, but Marcus didn’t reply, even telepathically.
Sometimes I feel like a girl~... sometimes I don't~
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Paper Trail [Closed] - by Blade - 09-04-2016, 08:15 PM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by Blade - 09-04-2016, 10:10 PM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by saronym - 09-07-2016, 09:55 PM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by Blade - 09-13-2016, 08:01 PM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by saronym - 09-13-2016, 10:48 PM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by Blade - 09-13-2016, 11:34 PM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by saronym - 09-17-2016, 10:35 AM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by Blade - 09-24-2016, 05:05 PM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by saronym - 09-27-2016, 08:28 PM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by Blade - 09-28-2016, 02:03 PM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by saronym - 10-03-2016, 09:10 PM
RE: Paper Trail [Closed] - by Blade - 01-06-2017, 11:24 PM