wicked world on the way to hell.

Eris Eternity · 05-24-2010, 05:48 AM

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392, D'Neville mansion.

The sable-furred woman lounged on the front porch of the mansion, her feet propped up on the railing. Someone had dragged this couch outside semi-recently—there was no way something in this condition had been sitting on this porch for the past twenty years. It was still in one piece, and there was no evidence of mold by sight or sound. Eris sure as hell hadn't dragged the cumbersome thing outside; she had much better things to do than that. Like sit on the damn porch and watch the goddamn rain. It rained all the time here, and Eris was not used to this.

In the desert, the rains had been brief and concentrated in one season. Eterne's region was generally more well-watered than the inner peninsula, but even there, it did not rain like this. All the sable-furred woman could remember for the past few weeks were these long and dragging days of rain, where she had nothing to do but sit in her room or roam the mansion. She had already found just about everything interesting in it—the basement was of particular interest to her, as there were several strange-looking devices there and chains on the wall. These she had recognized, and in that moment of recognition there had been another flashback, similar to what had happened with Snake. Just as quickly, that one had passed, and the sable-furred canine was puzzled once again.

Itzcitla was even less pleased with the rains than Eris, and he remained curled at her side on the couch, a scowl across his spotted and streaked face. His brilliant green-yellow eyes were half-lidded, but still the annoyance was evident in his posture and flicking tail. Absently, the shadow-furred woman reached over and stroked the ocelot along his neck and spine. A faint rumble issued from the cat, but that was all. The sable-furred woman had not yet contemplated what to do with him in winter; the climate here was far too cold for him to roam freely, and she considered keeping him in her room. It was small, however, and the spotted cat would be unhappy. These were the only things she contemplated as she watched the rain with her greenish-yellow eyes, her own sable-shaded ears folded back against her head. There was something positively phlegmatic in the woman, perhaps induced by the weather.

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