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It's a quarter after 2 AM when Candice wakes up with a start, instincts screaming that something is happening in this house. Considering this isn't the first time lately that something has gone on at this hour, she's not hugely surprised - but she doesn't take long to consider that lack of surprise, sliding hurriedly out of bed and making her way ( Read more... )
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Mr Dessoir, for his part, is sleeping and might as well be dead to the world - but maybe that's not such a good metaphor when the curtains on his four-poster are burning around him. A glint of silver hangs from one, probably a slightly lower priority, and Martel himself starts to stir at the sudden disturbance, groggily beginning to wake.
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"Mr. Dessoir!" She starts beating the flames out of the curtains, breathless and panicked - her voice isn't as loud as she thinks it is, but hopefully it'll be enough to jar him fully awake.
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...smoke. Smoke...fire. Fire he didn't st-
And that, as well as her voice, is enough to get him moving, half-stumbling out of his bed to yank the curtains down from their hooks and stomp them out into ash and charred fabric. In a truly marvelous show of priorities, he lunges for the hanging silver chain and its wrecked amulet (swearing at the heat of it, not dropping it).
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She beats out the last of the fire, and turns to retrieve Martel - only to find him in the midst of acquiring his amulet? That gives her a split-second pause, but she shakes her head and focuses on getting them out instead.
"Mr. Dessoir, we have to leave, come on--" She figures downstairs is the best way to go. Away from that attic.
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