Damian was already looking toward her before she had opened the door, and his eyes simply declared that she may enter. "I am unsure of what you might have to ask me, but I would suggest you make it quick. If Marcel comes back here, you may be in for some trouble. Now come in here if you are going to speak, the couch you were sleeping on earlier is free," he said with a butler like bow. One hand pressed firmly to his chest while the other was aimed at the couch, as if presenting it. Once again his movements were fluid, and the smoothness of the action was very similar to Marcel in this case.<br/>--<br/><br/>As Marcel stepped into the painting, he felt a warm heat grip his body. A familiar feeling overtaking him as he almost took another step in. With a vision of chains sliding against one another in darkness, his eyes flashed open widely in panic. Though his face quickly contorted into that of confusion. Where he had been once entering the painting was but a wall, and he was now by that barred window where he was when Missie saw him. His vision was groggy as he peered up at a lithe figure... this figure was using there legs as a pillow, and one of their lithe fingered hands was holding something sharp, and gleaming above his heart. He could barely see who it was before the figure jumped at a sound, and pushed him off there lap. A feminine voice sputtering something like a curse word from the figures direction. As of now, the sound of footsteps echo's turned to nothing, and a new figure was leaning over him... Green eyes looking down toward his red ones seductively.