<div class="floatleft">(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd394/Vithe_rothe/Doomtown/doomtown11_zpsff59733c.jpg)</div><hr/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>Name:</strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;">             Lady Elisabeth Boyle</span><br/><strong>Faction:</strong>         Member of the Collegium.<br/><strong> Date: </strong>            May 4th, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day: </strong>  Evening, a couple of hours after dusk<br/><strong>Location:</strong>       Setting in the middle of a Mess!!<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>         Blood and parts, various people, a 'tattered man', more on the way <br/></span><br/><hr/><br/><br/><em>...screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail...</em><br/><br/>Elisabeth blinked open her eyes as she heard and felt the gathering crowd around her. Their murmurs, 'witch', 'murderer', 'demon' made her shake her head and wonder idly at the silliness of people in general. Why would anyone think she was at fault? Here she sat, clawed on her arms and legs and stomach, her face beginning to swell from bruises and basically naked and yet they blamed her for the bloody mess and ripped apart bodies. Like she had the ability to tear a man's arm off or from the look rip a face off a skull. Yeap it was clear she was at fault it had to be her...5 foot 4 inches and 125 pounds of solid nastiness and power. Why she should be afraid of herself.<br/><br/>Then she heard the words in french ...this had nothing to do with the father or the holy ghost..maybe the devil but she was not even sure about that. Latin followed in the same voice, one that tugged at her mind, she should know that voice. She had heard it before but where and why was it so hard to focus. The last time she could not focus her mind was years ago. Another place and another sort of nastiness that involved sex as well...at least that sex was something she could remember even if she did  not really want to. Whatever had raped her was no man that was one thing she was sure of. Another was that she was sure she did not enjoy it...she hoped.<br/><br/>Her voice murmured,<strong>"Non Timebo Mala"</strong>as she felt someone kneel beside her and wrap something soft around her and hold her gently. She took in a breath slowly filling her lungs which helped clear a bit of the exhaustion she felt. She was So tired she just wanted to lay down and sleep...<em>'no that was bad...wake UP 'Beth...wake up NOW!'</em>Elisabeth jerked a bit as her head snapped up and her green eyes looked up at the crowd.<br/><br/>Through gritted teeth she had to reply to the idiot Leo,<strong>"I am NO DAMN WITCH you idiot...my chemistry...my potions...I need them...can heal myself ...some"</strong>She took another breath and realized she had missed some part of the conversations around her. That worried her, it meant she was fading in and out and that was not a good thing. She really needed a stiff drink. Scotch, no a good whiskey maybe two drinks to help dull the burning pain and clear her head. It came to her in a rush with a sudden almost painful clarity,<em>"That is a lovely dress, Paris, isn't it?"</em>, the voice belonged to Marguerite, Marguerite Tuerny. Dark haired, new to town, looking for help...yes Marguerite at least that was settled. Now if she could just feel like moving and not hurting.<br/><br/><em><strong>"Where are you hurt? Can you move everything?"</strong></em>, Elisabeth twisted her head to look at Marguerite, the left half swollen and cut above her eyebrow. A bloody partial print that looked like a huge clawed hand covered half the right side of her face but her green eyes blinked and she shook her head slightly then the eyes blinked twice again and cleared. Her voice became more detached as if she was a doctor reciting someone else injuries. Her voice was low but clear the clear cut English accent adding to the detachment,<strong>"Multiple Lacerations on both arms and legs and lower abdomen that will require numerous stitches. Abrasions on my face, back and sides."</strong><br/><br/><em><strong>"Sonofabitch, Margeurite – get her to a doctor.  Then get her to a priest.”</strong></em><br/><br/>Silly, I am a doctor, where was I, oh... yes,<strong>"I believe there is Avulsions in the lower Abdomen. Both hips are cracked and I have been raped by something that was no man and do not know how badly hurt I am there but I KNOW whatever it was was larger then any man..." </strong>Her voice did not carry past the two women and tears misted her eye lashes, What had happened?. How could she be here and not remember why? It made no sense, had no logic, felt wrong.<br/><br/>She knew the next voice, Christian, Spooky, was Agatha here? Onneca? Dear god she did not want them to see her like this, what would they think? She was the strong one. Tough and confident. She did not feel that way now.<br/><br/><em>'gonna be fine..."</em>not hardly since some part of her knew that this was not over...somehow it fitted in with her nightmare and her reluctance to leave as if she was being kept here for some dark reason and now she knew...or did she?<br/><br/>She lifted her head a bit and her green eyes blinked away the tears as they looked into the Gunman's and she nodded her voice straining,<strong>"I understand...,"</strong>her mind though was whirling, pieces jumbled and ideas, perceptions shifting so though her voice was weak and did not convey any malice she continued,<strong> "but don't you have to leave, Spoo...Christian. You always leave...sorry that was wrong... I am going to need help to move...cracked hips and I am still bleeding mainly from my stomach."</strong><br/><br/>She blinked again and lost several more moments, darkness was hovering at the edges and she needed to keep it back, then a voice speaking with an accent from England, London, Cockney, lower east side she thinks from the lingo and speech patterns. Her tongue, pink and soft flicked out to lick dry lips but tasted blood. Her Own? Someones else? She wasn't sure but she focused on the Cockney, he was taking from the dead, well they did not need it. A sword? why would there be a sword here? did it matter? Let him have it if he was going after whatever was here. Hell's bells let him take a cannon if he wanted it.<br/><br/>She tried to shift and move but the pain washed over her making her gasp and groan.<strong>"I ...I can't stand, Get Teddy, no wait he is out of town"</strong><br/><br/><strong>"My Potions, white topper, healing...I need them"</strong><br/><br/>Elisabeth's head fell forward as she began to slip off to sleep, the darkness hovering closer. The fear curling it's tentacles in the night mists. She knew ...knew it was not over.<br/><br/><em>...screw your courage to the sticking-place...</em><br/><br/><em>for something wicked stalked the night</em><br/><br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">"Non Timebo Mala"  --Latin--"I will fear no evil"</div></div>