Snippet #1539411

Clarice was not sure snapped her out of her daze at first. Visions of a past she could not fully remember fled from her mind until finally she felt the heat. He had his arms around her, just like the "dreams" always had. Something about the way his warm skin felt against her trembling body was comforting. His smooth words uttered softly into her ear, the words that completly brought her back to the reality, the reality that she was still in a cellar, a dead body in front of her, but this time Helmut was holding her tightly, keeping the fear out.

His arms were more like a shield, as if he was protecting a sibling though it was utterly perfect despite the lack of romantic actions. He followed the embrace with pressing his lips to her forehead, before leaving her. She was not afraid anymore, the feeling in her body came back to life. This could not have been the first time Helmut and her had met in this life. Clarice could not believe that they had not been close in another time, or place. It was all to perfect. For the moment she could have given up her vixenous ways, never touch another man or paint her lips red to get a strangers attention.

For some reason she snapped herself out of that daze as well. Helmut was just another man, that wanted one thing. Clarice was just another exception to the rules of society as she wanted the same as any young man. There would never be any sort of love between the two, no matter how much her heart ached for something real instead of the lustful romances she had grown accustomed to.

“Alliance my ass” he said ready to throw the stone on the ground where it would shatter into pieces. Another stone wall opened to his left, making him change his mind. With a swift pace he entered the other passageway with stone in his hands to make light and found himself behind
“Ms. Renoldi! Weren’t you heading for home?” the tone in his voice stated surprise and sarcasm.

“Genevieveeee!” he roared in anger, smashing the stone on the floor. “What is the meaning of this?

The cold stone floor practically shook with the tundering of Lord Bryon's voice. There was anger in his voice then another emotion she could not identify as easily. Clarice followed him down the other passage way, not wanting to be left alone in the room with the skeleton (real or not).


“Lord Byron!” she called with her velvet-like voice , yet demanding.
“Maximilian Uliara!” she continued, looking straight at the illusionist. Her eyes went over to Clarice, but her lips did not open. “You have failed the task laid in front of you!”

Task? Test? What kind of place was this? Clarice was enraged. Blood flowed to every sufrace on her body, boiling and almost ready to explode. The mistress had not come here to deal with a task, she came to cure her boredom which had been urking her at her own home. The boredom of the same life and same story, running from her past and not dealing with the present. Clarice though just perhaps this trip could bring some antidote for the same run of the mill life she lived, but the fact that a task they had been forced into completing dealt with dark corridors and dead people was not fun or an antidote for anything. All the other words spoken by anyone else did not reach the heiress, to prevent herself from killing someone she zoned out once again, completly focusing on the warmth of Helmut standing next to her.

“I apologize on my friend’s behalf!” Genevieve said in a rough voice, looking first at Alayna who asked her before what was happening. She wasn’t angry, but she held her head high in a serious manner. “I never meant for any of this to happen! Please forgive me, it is my own fault for bringing you here in the first place!”

That snapped her out of the daze as well, but Genevieve? Why her? What did the lady possess that made Clarice's anger suddenly cease? She did not know, but for some reason she simply wanted to get out of the tunnels despite her dislike of the days events so far.

"Trust me, I am just as enraged as most of you all are, but for now, let us push aside our differences and feelings to simply escape this dank dungeoun of sorts?" She used her best voice and put on her best face. If she was willing to put aside the events for an hour or so, that meant every one else was capable as well. Clarice crossed her arms over her ribs in an attempt to keep the small amount of heat she had left in her body, in her body instead of floating around in the bitter air, waiting for someone to say something.