You say her name like that, and she is in that moment once again the awkward girl caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Or, more likely, with a frog in hand rather than a cookie.

“What?” she says, and not without sounding ever so slightly defensive. And is it your imagination or has her step quickened just enough for her to be leading you now?

She knew the look on your face all too well, shrewd and calculating. That same expression as you had worn when first you had spotted her lurking about the murder scenes in the Old Town all those months ago. Before you had made the connection to your childhood selves.

He would be somewhat of a failure as a member of a secret society if he kept sharing details of said society at will. It was not merely that he trusted you, but each truth shared was like a breadcrumb dropped; plotting a trail which lead back to Eidyn House, and your involvement with the work of the Scions, which he hoped you would one day follow.

He could be patient, for now, one crumb at a time.

But the conversation had turned and your trip to the seaside had initially seemed quite an ordinary thing; every sensible Victorian knew that fresh, sea air was a constitutional of unparalleled benefit to one’s vitality. That colour in your cheeks had piqued his interest, however, especially when you added that bit about Elsie. Why would you not bring your maid? What woman ever dreamt of travelling without her maid?

“Delilah,” he strung out the last syllable of your name, a dark brow lifted at you. He was uncertain as to just what you were up to, but it was as plain to him as the nose on his face that you were up to something. He trusted you, of course, his investigative senses were prickling, and the frontage of The George hotel was still a block away – time enough for answers yet.

moaning
dreaming

…about Mommy

Asleep in my bed

She finds it somewhat amusing that you used the collective ‘us’ when you were hardly the most normal of human beings yourself. But she doesn’t let her amusement distract her, and listens with an almost palpable hunger for the details you so casually drop about your Order. Although she knows that it is a testament to how much you trust her that you tell her anything about it at all, casual or no.

And she wonders why you live at all in this world outside it which to her seemed drab and grey in compare.

Your answer only invites more questions – How many motherhouses and chapterhouses, and where? What does a school for Archives even teach? But she saves them for another day as you start to explain the curiosity of this centuries old malaise. She couldn’t pretend to understand even half of it, but you save her from trying to as you drop that weighty ‘So,’ into their conversation.

Her gaze slants towards you, only for you to bring up her planned trip. Schooling her expression into soberly appropriate diffidence, she shrugs nonchalantly as if it was nothing really of import. “Oh yes, that. I thought a few days by the beach might blow away the last of the cobwebs.” She feels the blush creep onto her cheeks and adds, a little too hastily “Elsie is coming with me, of course.” As if she needed to reassure you that she would be properly chaperoned.

out

~*~PleasureMistress~*~ has started a new game with the following players:
~*~PleasureMistress~*~

" S T A R T G A M E : t r u e "{ " g a m e I d " : " 1 7 1 9 7 5 2 4 4 9 " , " p l a y e r L i s t " : [ " p l e a s u r e m i s t r e s s " ] , " r o l l N u m b e r " : 0 , " c u r r e n t P l a y e r " : 0 , " d i c e " : { " f a c e s " : [ 0 , 0 , 0 , 0 , 0 ] , " r e r o l l " : [ t r u e , t r u e , t r u e , t r u e , t r u e ] } , " s c o r e 0 " : { " 1 " : n u l l , " 2 " : n u l l , " 3 " : n u l l , " 4 " : n u l l , " 5 " : n u l l , " 6 " : n u l l , " p l a y e r " : n u l l , " u p _ t o t a l " : n u l l , " b o n u s " : n u l l , " 3 k " : n u l l , " 4 k " : n u l l , " s s " : n u l l , " l s " : n u l l , " f h " : n u l l , " y a h _ t o k e n " : n u l l , " y " : n u l l , " c " : n u l l , " y a h _ b o n u s " : 0 , " b o t _ t o t a l " : n u l l , " g _ t o t a l " : n u l l } , " o w n e r " : " p l e a s u r e m i s t r e s s " , " s t a t u s " : " r e a d y " , " r o u n d " : 0 , " l a s t P o s t " : 1 7 1 9 7 5 2 4 4 9 }

in

ok

sorry I have to leave now

As they walked along, he answered that half-question of yours with a gentle laugh. “Oh, there are so many among us who are fully normal human beings, Lila, though I would hesitate to label any of them as ungifted. Dedication to a cause is its own sort of gift. Those other Archives, though, most certainly fall under the preternaturally gifted category.”

He considered further for a moment. “Of their number, I cannot say for certain. Each motherhouse holds one, as do the chapter houses, those in training even among their number. We have a school for the Archives as well, where each receives her first training.”

Allowing a carriage to pass in front of them, he guided their steps along the crossing to George Street, and began to make their way along the northern side of the street. “We do not think it is a plague, in the conventional sense. The Cowgate would be inundated with cases were that the true cause.”

Gently tucking your arm against his side in a gesture meant to offer reassurance, he considered his next words carefully. Explaining that they thought this spirit was somehow the locus for a psychic-to-biological transfer of some malady seemed madness even as the thought occurred to him, and he was well versed in the details.

Instead, he opted for that time-honoured approach to such matters and promptly changed the subject. “So,” he let the word hang between them for a pregnant pause, “Hettie tells me that you have decided to take in some good, clear, sea air to aid in your recovery, and that you will be leaving for Portobello by the week’s end?”

There is no new topic due to illness this week

AI of trump who not good for America or maybe just America
The rest of the world will get a 10% tariff on everything entering the USA and in Canada he killed the 3 amigo deal has a 25% tariff on our soft word and pumps our crude boil and tar sands to the Texas refineries converted into the products made from it and sells it back for a profit

ok

excuse me for just a few

Out

mutual masturbation

with each other

What is it you want to play?

Of course your doctor wasn’t just any doctor. Her expression, as you layout the medic’s qualifications, is one of quiet wonder. “Are there any amongst your Order who are not gifted?” she asks with just a touch of flippancy.

You tip your hat at a passing couple and she acknowledges them with a nod and a polite smile, recognising them from the societal fray if not actually acquainted with them personally herself. But such were the rules of promenading, every passerby was if not an acquaintance then an acquaintance by extension.

“Her sister Archives? How many of them are there?” If her earlier question had had an undertone of envy, she barely even tries to hide it now. The idea of being an independent working woman for someone of her station was beyond her reach as it was, but to be working for so noble a cause was even more unthinkable.

Swallowing down the green-eyed monster, she lets her gaze sweep over the wide street before them that had been planned as the principal street of this New Town. The earliest residents had since been usurped by shopkeepers and showrooms, but they were as grand and befitting of the Georgian architecture they now inhabited as those who had first lived here.

“Please do keep me informed if your doctor finds a solution to this plague.” This plague, that had survived centuries. She felt a chill fear encircle her heart at the thought that something that had persisted for so long would not be easily cured.