<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/c0/db/77/c0db77cbef981c004a07d1f8d376e85a.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Adelaide Meeks (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=269826.msg13302961#msg13302961)</strong></span><br/><br/>Place:     A strange room with stranger people.<br/>Tagging:  The Wicked and the Dead<br/><br/>Adelaide woke with a start, though she did not move or even allow herself to breathe. She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. It was frightfully similar to the "shadowed room" of the Diogenes Club and the "womb" of Le Comte Franzetti's estate. It left her momentarily puzzled where she was before she retraced her steps.<br/><br/>It made sense that the "secret rooms" of her hedonistic acquaintances would crib notes from Malcanthet. Chances were they followed her ways already, possibly without knowing.<br/><br/>She traced her fingers across her chin, finding it unmarred from her previous abuse. Glad for the fact she wouldn't have to cover up the bruises, she murmured to herself a line she enjoyed from a play whose name escaped her, "<strong>All hail the new flesh...</strong>"<br/><br/>Hopping to her feet in a most unladylike fashion, she took a second look at her surroundings. She pulled a silken case off of a pillow, just in case...<br/><br/>Strangling someone might be necessary and she thought it would be thoughtful on her part to use silk. Adelaide could not tolerate cheapness in someone's last moments. It was just rude. Adelaide reached for the carafe and sniffed it curiously. She didn't think their hostess was keen on poisoning her this quickly after hiring her. It was just a reflex, and one that continued to serve her well as she made a face at the clear liquid, "<strong>... water</strong>."<br/><br/>She never touched the stuff. Fish fucked in it.<br/><br/>Still, she spilled a dab on the table to confirm nothing other than lemon had been added. She had once given a man a salt acid mix with his mead. He had complimented the flavor moments before his throat dissolved. If there was no reaction she would test a minute amount.<br/><br/>The silk felt nice against her knuckles as she wrapped it around her fist. She hummed to herself softly, not wanting to rouse the others as she examined the door. These rooms were usually well groomed prisons to keep the meat inside for the amusement of the aristocratic. How long was polite for them to wait on their hosts before trying to leave?<br/><br/>And if they couldn't leave, how long was polite to wait before eating each other? No doubt the barbarian girl would have some thoughts on the matter. She ran her fingers along the seams, looking for anything suspect in the wood work before knocking gently against the door, "<strong>Bon soir? Anyone out there?</strong>"