The Main Hall in Elysium - 29th August

[Viktor]

At about 5 minutes to 11pm on the 29th night of August, a figure carrying a book in one hand emerges from one of the shadowed doorways of the dimly lit room and finds a quiet corner to sit in. They make very little noise as they move to be seated and are dressed in a simple black cassock without perhaps the expected white collar; the only adornment that they wear is a cream coloured rosary hanging around their neck. The figure looks to be in their mid thirties, is mostly bald but short, dark stubble lies on the sides and back of their head and their features of their face are soft and gentle. Once seated they open the book at the beginning and begin to read.

[Mary Anne Weatherby]

From the stairs to the basement there's the sound of steps and a gentle sloshing. The neat figure of the elysium maid appears, apron spotless and dress neat. The only oddity abut her is the really rather fancy hair comb currently pinning her bun in place. She's carrying a pail of water, mop and scrubbing brush.

She's apparently unaware of the figure sat in the corner, indeed, her attitude is far more relaxed than when skulking in the corners at a gathering of the court. Now she's humming as she walks and her expression is contented. She heads to the opposite corner by sheer chance and setting the bucket and brush down begins to mop. She's diligent about it and the brush is used interchangeably with the mop when she encounters a stubborn spot on the floor.

[Viktor]

The figure briefly looks up from their reading to watch the maid for a moment before silently going back to the book and ignoring her presence.

[Mary Anne Weatherby]

Having mopped that quarter of the hall to her satisfaction, Mary looks across the room, spots the seated figure and squeaks in dismay. The Master is going to be so disappointed in her. She's been mopping whilst one of the Ladies and Gentlemen have been present! Her heart beats faster in her rising panic and the room sways a little, but, mindful of the Master's unhappiness with her last time she fainted in public she grips the mop tightly and takes deep breaths until the room steadies again.

Still, whilst it's not an ideal situation (why, oh why didn't she think to look around before she'd started the mopping?!), the Master's instructions on what to do when presented with one of her betters were quite clear. She props the mop and bucket in the corner and timidly approaches the seated figure, stopping just out of reach (thank heavens it's not the pretty Gentleman who chased her giggling) and bobbing a curtsey.

This Gentleman looks kind, but Mary knows better than to take anything for granted. The Ladies and Gentlemen are important people, who may not wish to be disturbed. "Begging you pardon sir, I didn't mean to intrude. I'm ever so sorry Sir."

It's clear from her downcast eyes and miserable expression that she really is sorry. The Master will be so dismayed when he hears of this mishap of hers. She hates to upset the Master and to have done so by sheer thoughtlessness is almost to awful to be contemplated. Still. Instructions have been given and at least she can carry them out.

"Please Sir, is there anything you're wanting that I can fetch for you?" She offers timidly.

[Viktor]

The figure doesn’t look up at the sudden squeaky end to the humming and continues to read until she begins to make her way across the hall toward him. He gently closes the book and places it on his lap as he looks up just before she reaches him and curtseys. The book itself is old and well read, the corners are bent and worn and the gold gilt of the wording on the front is faded. Despite that though there is enough left for her make out that it is a copy of the Bible upon his lap. The figure smiles and returns the curtsey with a polite nod.

“There is no intrusion Miss Weatherby and there was no wrong doing on your part so there is naught to forgive.” He replies in a gentle, friendly tone of voice. “I apologise if my quiet manner has caused you consternation or any undue disruption to your duties. Should where I sit be in the way of your passage about this room cleaning please let me know so I may move to more suitable location to allow you to continue.

Thank you for offer but there is nothing I require of you this eve. ”

[Mary Anne Weatherby]

Mary stares at him, aghast. Miss Weatherby?! Oh this was dreadful, really it was. The Master was going to think she didn't know her place when he found out about it. As for offering to move, for her? He must be one of those awful Progressive Types Matron had warned about, back in the orphanage.

"Oh no Sir, I..." She stutters off into a tiny dismayed squeak. Frantically she wracks her brain for the Next Instruction. Oh yes, that was it. Report The Visitor.

"I'm sorry Sir, I have to go Sir, I have other duties!" This was a terrified string of words, barely audible and accompanied by several bobbed curtseys as she backed away as fast as she could whilst curtseying. The mop and bucket are collected and she vanishes back down to the basement in a swirl of skirt, apron and panicked breathing.

A short time later (once she'd gotten her breathing under control, put the mop away and found the her cloak from where it had lain, unused for years) Mary quietly leaves the building through the servants quarters. The feeling of being outside leaves her almost reeling, but she has a duty to carry out...

[Viktor]

The figure simply nods in understanding at the end of the comments and politely says “Of course.” before turning his attention away from her. There was little else that could be said or done to assuage her anxiety and nervousness. He picks up the book again, opening it in the same calm and quiet manner as before, unbothered by the maids disconcerted and swift exit from the room. He does pause for a moment though and takes in the position of the hands on the clock as her footsteps hurriedly pitter-patter away along the corridors and stairs of the building.

A hand reaches up and the fingers gently rest on the cross of the rosary for a second as a flare of concern for her well-being makes itself known within them. He considers calling after her. If she is indeed rushing off to see who he assumes they are then Mr. Beauclair would likely wish to know who it was Miss Weatherby had found lurking within.

Were the situation different with the Roses of the Court then perhaps a helping word and name would have been provided for her to deliver. The events of recent months and the decisions of their Clan during the last gathering of Court had siphoned away any consideration or patience toward them alas.

Unfortunately for the poor maid in question so was the concern for her well-being in it's wake. The kindness of the Master Harpy only ran so deep. The hand touching the cross moved away to turn a page and the seated figure began to read in silence once more.

[Mary Anne Weatherby]

After about an hour and a half has passed, Mary returns to Elysium. Her footsteps are light and her pocket jingles slightly as she walks. The Master hadn't been cross! He'd said she'd done the right thing! Her conscience reassured and her heart giddy she hangs the cloak in her room and takes a moment to straighten her apron before heading up to the hall.

This time, knowing there may well be someone in there she takes care to make sure her footsteps can be heard and pauses just for a moment before opening the door and slipping inside the hall. She looks carefully around the room this time (she's not going to make the same mistake twice if she can help it) and then heads quietly back to the robed figure, stopping, as before, just outside of reach and curtseying.

"If you please Sir, I've a message for you. I'm to thank you for your attention and to tell you, that the owners of this establishment are not currently available, but if you wish to make your introductions you are welcome to leave a card with any suitable references and call again tomorrow." She waits, a trifle anxiously, for his response.

[Viktor]

The silence, or as near as it could be silent with the ticking of the clock, was wonderful. There were no distractions and even the constant weight of responsibilities and concerns felt lighter within the Hall. It was and always had been a place of peace and reflection for him when empty. It was such a shame the quality of the Roses within the city had…deteriorated…since the situation a year ago. The loss of both the former Keeper and the Master Harpy had stripped away a significant portion of the blooms within the Domain. Which was unfortunate; it left behind a number of shallow, diseased flowers and the space replaced with newer, unknown buds that were yet to truly blossom.

There were many of his Clan that would not even contemplate thinking twice about the absence of either Miss Margaret or Lady Dyonisia (or any other Rose for that matter) from the Court but he had known them both a significant amount of time. They were creatures to be respected and admired and both of their absences were a grave loss to the Domain even if such were never voiced openly. Both had held post as long as he known them before the fires and violence swept through the city and the loss of one to them was ill-fated. The survivor’s fleeing was not unexpected however. With such a savage wound dealt to her pride followed by the liberal pouring and rubbing of salt and vinegar by his own appointment into the wound he was mildly surprised she only travelled as far as Bristol.

In all of this though there was a constant. Miss Weatherby had been present within these halls and been in service to Miss Margaret for as long as he could remember. That she did not remember the face he presented had been a little surprising but then it had been a long time since he had last used it, let alone within these hallowed walls. Time and Blood can often have a strange effect upon some. Now however it would seem Mr. Beauclair had taken over her care as Domitor or he was guiding her with another as her new Master or Mistress. Considering Miss Weatherby’s age that the poor woman had not perished between Miss Margaret’s…disappearance…and the new Keepers appointment was something to perhaps be considered more deeply and with greater interest.

At the sounds of footsteps flitting through the building his reverie and contemplation was slowly broken and he closed the book once more and placed it upon his lap. A slow look at the clock appraised him of the time and he turned toward the sound of footsteps as they entered the hall and watched the maids approach with the same friendly, gentle expression as before.

“Ah, I see. May I enquire as to who you are speaking of when you refer to the owners of this establishment?”

[Mary Anne Weatherby]

Ah. Mary stared at him in confusion and uncertainty. She didn't know. Everything was topsy turvy these days, ever since the Mistress had become unhappy. Then she'd disappeared (along with all the rest of the servants, leaving Mary in this new awful position of having to speak to the Ladies and Gentlemen, what she wouldn't give for a butler to be employed again...) and there had been that awful time of uncertainty and the scary man who'd visited occasionally. Things were definitely better now The Ladies and Gentlemen were visiting again and obviously the Master was wonderful, though very busy and yet...

"Please Sir, I'm... not sure." She winces, aware that this is a less than professional response.

"I believe there has recently been a change in owner Sir." She tries again, uncertainly.