xii council | action; open
Gabriel;
[The minute Elizabeth woke up, everything was wrong. Which was easy enough to place the reason why, it started with the fact there was a man in her bed. A man that was certainly not her husband, he hadn't joined her in years. It forced her awake quickly, and she started squirming to get away. She hoped she could get away before anyone saw this, and an angel no less, she was surely going to be condemned for it.]
Selina;
[... Which led to however much later, Elizabeth banging on the door to Selina's room. She wouldn't want to wake her, but she was feeling desperate like this, vulnerable without someone's, especially another lady's, company. She couldn't stay here, not by herself.] Lady Selina? [Even her voice sounded tired, strained, this was really too much for one day. All too much. She wanted to go back to Anjou, to be alone once more, wanted to go back to England and never see any of this again.]
Rabbit; video
[It's just a little short message, to see if he would mind, but she's not fond at all of talking over these things if she doesn't have too.] Master Rabbit? Are you free perhaps this afternoon? I long for company, and should greatly like to hear you sing, if you felt so inclined.
[a/ sanctuary; action]
[Elizabeth was... far more comfortable like this, secluded and shut off in one of the rooms that Helen had put her in, though she left the door open, but her back was turned, sat by the window. She sung softly, since there was no one else around as she sewed. Her stitches neat, precise. The same thing she always did, the mixed emblems of her house, and her husband's family. Out of habit, she began to stitch her son's name, perhaps she could make another... no, she forced it back, angry at herself, she began to viciously pull out the stitches again, never minding how they cut into her fingers, how the material ripped. The singing turned into a violent curse, snapped in Italian before breathing a sigh and forcing herself calm.] To all things there is a season, God forgive me ever forgetting this.
[a/ shopping; action]
[She crept by, trying to be unnoticed as much as possible, her cloak wrapped around her, hood pulled up to hide her face. Just finding the closest shop that sold chocolate really. Like this, she couldn't say she liked anything very much about the modern world. People were impolite and far too familiar, she hated it, couldn't stand it. Wished they'd mind their place as she minded hers. But there were other things she liked, the sweets for one things, and if she could do it with as little contact as she could, that would suit her well.]