RPG The Mansion

[Heaven's Cloud]

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Charlotte couldnâ??t move. She had watched the harpy feast on Jacqueline. She watched as Daniel Mathis killed the harpy, rising from the ground like one of the spirits. She watched Jacqueline rise from the dead only to flee, pursued by the spirits.

Now she was alone. Tears streamed down her face and pooled in her eyes. She tried to blink them away to no avail. She was completely helpless.

***

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Evelynne ran. She ran until her lungs burned and her calves caught fire. She ran through the Mansion checking every exit, every window, every door. There seemed to be no escape.

She ran to the staircase and froze as Wyatt Bishop rose from the dead.

His chest heaved and a gurgle emerged from his lips. His eyes came to life and Evelynne knew that Wyatt Bishop could feel his body mending. His neck, which bent at an unusual angle, snapped back in place and Wyatt screamed. He continued to scream as his body healed, his bones mended and his lacerations closed.

Evelynne watched all of this, transfixed by the magic. When it finished Wyatt looked at her. It was a dangerous look, and Evelynne knew in that moment she should have fled when she had the chance.

â??YOU! You did this to me!â?

â??No Iâ?¦â?

â??YOU DID THIS!!â? Wyatt lunged at Evelynne and grabbed her by the throat. Evelynne tried to struggle, she tried to break free. She scratched his eyes and face but the wounds she inflicted healed instantly. She tried to scream but her windpipe was crushed. Evelynne died without as much as a whimper.

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***

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Wyatt couldnâ??t control his rage. It was odd, he was horrified and satisfied that he killed Evelynne. He knew she wasnâ??t responsible for his death but blaming her seemed so right. She needed to pay. They all need to pay. Wyatt wondered through the mansion and found himself face to face with Charlotte. She was so still, he would have sworn that she was a statue if tears hadnâ??t been streaming down her face.

He hit her and she didnâ??t make a sound. She didnâ??t move. She didnâ??t do anything. The rage inside him built and he hit her again and again. He hit Charlotte until her face was a bloody mess. Until she was nothing more that a pile of meat and broken bones.

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[Nathan]

[font="Arial"]Angel had lost control of her pawn, but to be honest she didn't really care. He could keep the curse but as for her power, she would give it to someone else. At least this time it would be someone she didn't want to rip in two herself. She knelt next to Belle and with a touch used something she had in reserve, bringing her back to life.

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With a startled gasp, the harpies eyes opened and she looked up at Angel, clearly confused. As if sensing she could not affect the specter she got to her feet and backed away, watching her carefully. Angel smiled.

"[b]I bet you'd like to make all the humans pay for what they've done to your kind. Turning you into pets to show of whenever they please.[/b]"

Belle's eyes narrowed as if she was considering what Angel was saying.

"[b]Just focus on letting nothing stop you and my power will let you even fly through the very walls of the Mansion.[/b]"

Belle turned a hate filled look towards the building and then back to Angel, but the ghost was already gone. She reached up for the thing that had hurt her neck but the skin was smooth as if she had never been injured at all. With a shriek of rage she turned and headed for the building.[/font]

[Gavin]

[indent][font="Tahoma"][size="2"]Listlessly the old ghost had drifted through the walls, rooms and corridors of Rosengard Manor. Initially he'd brushed off Angel's inquiry as to the nature of their collective pasts as pointless musings, but the gnawing doubt had set root in the back of his mind and granted him scarcely a momentâ??s peace. He had been a loyal servant in life, and continued to be such in death, such an identity had sustained him for decades but now the slightest reflection of that nature caused it to slip through his fingers like sand.

The Butler cast a longing glance in the great ivory and gold trimmed wall-mirror of the dining hall, hoping to divine some greater knowledge from the reflection. Dark eyes framed by small glasses gazed back at him wordlessly, his suit, aged by current trends, still the picture of military order and impeccably clean. â??The Butlerâ?, he tried to recall when he had started referring to himself as such, surely heâ??d used his own name, and had it used in turn by those around him. The words felt hollow in his mouth as he ran them over his tongue.

Turning he found himself attracted to the body of the fallen policeman, a broken section of timber impaled through his chest. His features still bore the terror of an unexpected and violent death, dark eyes staring lifelessly, and yet longing at anyone who took them in. Transfixed, the Butler removed the offending debris and began to study the manâ??s features with greater scrutiny. The eyes, the brow, the shape of the mouth were all startlingly similar. Had it been so long since heâ??d looked upon his own reflection that he hadnâ??t noticed it originally?

Not his own, no, not fully. A child? No, the span of time wouldâ??ve been greater than that, and the man hadnâ??t demonstrated a familiarity with the manor such a position would yield. Grandchild perhaps? He needed to know. For the first time in he didnâ??t even know how long the Butler was consumed need for his own wants instead of those he'd served utterly.

Flesh was simple to mend, at a gesture it began to reshape itself, erasing any trace of the previously mortal wound. The spirit was more difficult, it required concentration to draw the soul of a deceased individual back to the scene of their death, and those who had died violently were even less inclined to return and would fight any such compulsion that attempted to force them. Fortunately the inspector had been dead only a short time, his spirit would be closer to the material world, not yet fully integrated into the ethereal.

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Slowly the silvery white stream materialised above the corpse and filtered back into its former shell. The Butler watched with rapt attention as the heart began to beat once more and with a gasp Leonard Howard gulped the air of a living man once again. Now, the Butler resolved, he would have his answers.
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[Shy]

[indent]The Gravedigger watched Rosengard from afar. Although many souls had yet to perish, the estate taken succumb to an eerie silence. [I]It was futile to prolong the inevitable[/I], he thought to himself, [I]Soon all but one of their souls will be mine.[/I]

Still, he could not ignore the pleasure he took in seeing the mansion alive with fresh faces once again. He was reminded of a time when Rosengard played home to socialites from far and wide, and when he had enjoyed a quiet life of servitude. â??[b][I]M.R.[/I][/b]â?? he muttered to himself, â??[b]Marion and Raymond.[/b]â??

Even in his youth Raymond was never a handsome man. No matter how he tried, his long face, thinning red hair and sunken gray eyes which only seemed to turn people away. There were few who held Raymondâ??s interest romantically, and any advances he made to women, usually his fellow servants at Rosengard, were always unwanted. Over time he had grown cold to the fairer sex entirely, choosing instead to bury himself in his work.

To the Rosengard family he was indispensable, but to the fellow staff he was strict and unwavering. This callousness had caught the attention of Marion Rosengard, the familyâ??s matriach, and had earned him the privilege to live within the mansion alongside the family. It was a grand opportunity for any servant to live in such decadence, but it had the cost of fueling a growing resentment from his peers.

On rare occasions he would travel with the family, or just Madame Rosengard herself, tending to their needs as they visited the places Raymond had only read about before. Marionâ??s own children were rotten brats, and she relished the opportunity to share her world to a pair of unspoiled eyes who might truly appreciate them. She was much older than Raymond, her hair gray and worn but she was still the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever seen. For one such as Marion to give Raymond even the slightest attentionâ?¦ it meant the world.

Marion was ill, and everyone knew it. Hers was not a sickness of the body, however, but a creeping madness that seemed to consume her whenever she was home. She had grown paranoid, and was convinced that her family was trying to murder her after a psychic had told her as much. As a result she was always on the move, seeking one mystic after another in an attempt to rid herself of alleged curses and evil spirits. Still, her fondness for Raymond had never wavered and when he was not able to travel with her the two would exchange letters. At first they were filled with pleasantries and her growing fears about the family, but the longer Madame Rosengard was away the more affectionate the notes had become. It was during this time that Raymond fell in love with Marion.

In one letter she had told of beautiful azaleas she had encountered during her travels, and Raymond made certain that were freshly planted azaleas when she returned. This delighted Marion, and piece-by-piece Raymond had transformed the barren grounds of Rosengard into a lush palatial garden. It was a testament to a secret love, one which Raymond had never dared express to Marion for fear of her jealous husband.

It was to be the night of a grand celebration: 100 years of the Rosengard Estate, and Madame Rosengard was finally returning home after a long absence. For this evening Raymond wore his finest suit, slicked back his hair and made the final preparations for his gift to Marion. It would be tonight, he decided, that he would finally tell her of his love. Marion was wearing an emerald gown, and standing alone beneath one of the gardenâ??s stone archways when Raymond found her.

â??[b]Hello, Madame Rosengard. It is a pleasure to see you once more,[/b]â? he said with a humble bow.

â??[b]Raymond, darling![/b]â? Marion cheered, â??[b]You are a sight if ever there were one. I trust youâ??re coming to the festivities tonight?[/b]â?

He nodded, â??[b]Yes, but first Iâ??d like to present you with a gift. Would you follow me into the garden?[/b]â?

Madame Rosengard agreed, and she extended her gloved hand towards the servant as he escorted her deeper into the garden. It was a clear night, and the moonlight seemed to radiate off of her soft, white skin. Raymond could feel his heart nearly ready to burst from his chest.

He took her to a secluded corner of the garden, surrounded by rose bushes that she had never seen before. A simple stone bench rest before them, and Raymond gestured towards it.

â??[b]I hope you like it. Roses were one of your favorites, were they not?[/b]â?

â??[b]Itâ??s lovely, Raymond. Perhaps we should carve our names onto the bench, so that those who enter Rosengard will know this moment we shared.[/b]â?

Raymond smiled, and quickly retrieved a chisel from a nearby tool shed. The two laughed as Marion struggled to carve her name onto the bench, instead settling with on two simple letters: M.R.

It was the happiest he had ever been, and the happiest he ever would be.


[b][font="book antiqua"][size=5]Chapter Five: Remember[/size][/font][/b][hr]50[/hr]
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Wyatt Bishop roamed the halls of Rosengard, a trail of blood dripping from his hands and onto the pristine tile floor. He could hardly believe what he had done, but still it felt so [I]right[/I]. He had come to realize that this nightmare would never end until he himself ended it. But where were the others, and were they ready to take the same action? No matter what the outcome, Wyatt knew he would go down fighting.[/indent]

[OMNOMNOMALY]

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Diana watched as Wyatt Bishop walked through the mansion, half dazed yet half with purpose. The once clean-shaven and well groomed man was replaced by a disheveled looking doppelganger. It was no wonder, in any rate â?? he had been dead, after all. Bishop ended up at the bathroom on the first floor, the same one the child Harriet had killed herself in. He masked his pain as he gently lifted her small malnourished body and put her in the giant claw foot bathtub, before drawing the shower curtain around to hide her corpse.

Wyatt stood for a long time after with his hands resting on either side of the sink on the dusty marble countertops. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles around them. He examined his face intently. He was gaunt and scruffy and a great heaviness was now seen in his expression. Wyatt shook his head finally with great force, and turned on the taps. They sputtered for a moment, before water began to pour forth from them, brown at first and then clear.

The water was good and cold, and Wyatt removed his heavy, restricting overcoat and tossed it on the floor. He rolled up the sleeves of his buttoned up oxford shirt as well as unbuttoned the top few buttons. He cupped his hands under the faucet and let the cool, clean water run over them for a moment, before splashing the water onto his face. He repeated this near ritualistic cleansing for a few minutes, scrubbing as best as he could with his hands, his face and his neck. When he was done, he turned the taps off and un-tucked his shirt, using the bottom to pat himself dry. He looked at himself in the mirror again, and satisfied with what he saw, he turned to leave the bathroom, though not before thoroughly checking around the door for any signs of humans and specters alike.

Diana watched him go, the lost and sorrowful expression he wore reminded her a lot of her own, that fateful night she drew her last breath in this very mansion.

****

[i]100 years of the Rosengard Estate. A grand cause for celebration if ever there was one, and yet young Diana, nanny to the children of the manor first and maid second, was not in any mood to participate in the merry-making.

She had lost the children. Again.

Or rather, the children had gone out of their way to lose her. They knew that a panic it threw her into when she was unable to find them, and they relished in it. Diana was a quiet and gentle girl, soft spoken with a wispy frame to match. She was alright looking, though often it seemed as though people simply forgot she was there because of her quiet demeanor. This is why the children pushed her around. They knew that she was simply too timid and thus there would be no repercussions and they could come and go as they pleased.

They also knew how much trouble Diana would get in with the matriarch of the household, Marion Rosengard and her equally as unforgiving favourite servant, Raymond. Diana was so pleased when they offered her the job, but the excitement she felt soon gave way to dread after she started. It seemed that from her first day, nay her first minute on the job she had done nothing right.

The tea was too hot, the milk was too cold, there was too much light in the parlour but not enough light in the foyer, the children were overdressed, underdressedâ?¦ â??where did the children go? They were here just a minute agoâ?¦â?? it was enough to make Diana mad! The only thing that stopped her from quitting was the thought of the little income she made every month being opened up by her mother and father back home in the village, and how proud it made them that she was out in the world, working and helping to support the family.

â??Come out, this instant! The guests shall be arriving any minute now and I was given strict orders to have you downstairs and ready in 5 minutes from now.â? Diana commanded to the empty play room. She was greeted by only silence. Fear rose in her throat but she pushed it away, instead checking under beds, in closets and toy chests - all in vain.

â??Come out, pleaseâ?¦â? Diana pleaded now but still there was only quiet.

â??Diana!â? a shrill cry from down the hall pierced the hush of the room. â??The children, please! The guests have begun to arrive!â? it was the unmistakable commanding tone of Marion. Dianaâ??s eyes began to fill with tears at the thought of the vicious scolding she would inevitably receive if she came to the stair alone and she frantically rechecked every spot in the room she could think of that could viably be used as a hiding place.

â??Iâ??m going to kill those little brats!â? she murmured to herself as she straightened up. She wiped the tears from her eyes and smoothed down her hair with one hand, her apron and dress with the other. She took a deep breath, stood up straight and tried to steel herself against the inevitable wrath of the matriarch when she had to explain that she was actually about to search the rest of the house for the children since they had gotten away from her. Again.

â??This night could not possibly get any worse.â??
[/i]
****

Diana laughed to herself as she floated through the halls, thinking about how wrong sheâ??d been about that.

****

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Elsewhere, Daniel Mathis strode down the steps of the mansion comfortably. He was actually quite happy that the spirit had given him the ability to be a bystander in the game. Having observed just how terribly cruel his fellow humans could be, sometimes more cruel than the spirits who kept them there, he felt much safer on the sidelines, ghosting through and watching, never interacting.

[b]â??Hey! You! Hold on a minute!â?[/b] a voice rang out from behind him. He stopped and turned around, confused as to why anyone would be addressing him.

[b]â??â?¦Me?â?[/b] his voice called out timidly.

[b]â??Yes you, who else do you see in this hallway?â?[/b] the man replied, obviously irritated. As he came closer, he recognized this fellow as the police officer. Leonard something or other.

[b]â??You can see me?â?[/b] Mathis still wasnâ??t quite sure he understood what was going on.

[b]â??Of course I can, why wouldnâ??t I be able to? If you would be so kind, could you tell me how many of us are left?â?[/b] Mathis snapped out of his daze quickly and re-calculated how many heâ??d seen die over the short period heâ??d been â?? past tense â?? in a ghost-like state.

[b]â??Three of us, I believe.â?[/b] He stated.

[b]â??Hmmâ?¦â?[/b] Leonard Howard replied. [b]â??So this game is almost over, then.â?[/b] He added.

[b]â??Looks that way, doesnâ??t it?â?[/b] Mathis responded. [b]â??Shall we find lucky contestant number three, then?â?[/b]

Inspector Howard smirked and inclined his head in agreement. The two men began walking, not quite sure of who they were looking for or what to expect.

[b]â??Mind if I smoke?â?[/b] Howard asked Mathis.

[b]â??No, not at all. I donâ??t blame you, I used to always reach for the cigarettes in times of stress.[/b]â? He laughed. The Inspector gestured towards him with the pack, offering him one.

[b]â??No thanks, I quit a few years ago.â?[/b] He answered.

[b]â??Suit yourself.â?[/b] Howard shrugged and lit up.

Out of nowhere, an earsplitting screech pierced the room.

[b]â??What the hell was thatâ?¦?â?[/b] Howard wondered aloud. But Mathisâ?? eyes lit up in terror and recognition. He knew that sound well. He also knew that he no longer had protection from the creature it came from.

Suddenly a great, ugly beast burst into the room, straight through the wall without displacing a molecule of old plaster. The stench of death filled the area as the harpy descended upon them. Belleâ??s cry rang out and she swooped down at the two men, talons bared.

[b]â??Stop right there!â?[/b] a minute voice, yet one with some authority seemed to fill the room. [b]â??Hush, you vile creature.â? [/b]

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The Harpyâ??s mouth opened again, but no sound came out. The small female ghost clad in a simple dress and button up blouse, appeared between Belle and her prey. [b]â??You will interfere no more. These mortals will have my protection from you and your kind, until the end."[/b]

In her surprise, Belle had let her use of the ghost power given to her by Angel, go down. In that moment, Diana reached in to the harpyâ??s newly reformed chest, and pulled out her heart.

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Diana looked at the two men, solemnly and let the heart fall to the ground. It hit the floor with a dull thud. The Harpy's disgusting figure fell with much more of a clatter.

[b]"Go in safety, I'll do what I can..."[/b]
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ooc:
1. any changes you need me to make, no probs, just tell me.
2. this was not supposed to be this long but with the 'needs moar backstory' clause, this is just how it turned out :< Edited October 20, 2010 by Anomaly

[Gavin]

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With rapt attention the Butler had watched his descendant gasp and splutter as life flooded back into his previously deceased form. Pallid, blood-spattered skin slowly regained the pink tint of living and dull eyes shone again with inner fire and spirit. The coughing and retching had echoed throughout the great hall for at least a minute before Leonard Howard has regained enough composure and wits to apparently ascertain two highly important facts: firstly that he was no longer dead despite having been impaled by a large section of wood and secondly that one of the Manor's spirits was hovering over him with a distinct interest. To his credit the man reacted with a well concealed apprehension as the elder ghost hovered wordlessly over him, content to allow the spirit to complete his scrutinies lest he be stripped of his so recently reacquired mortality.

"[b]Tell me about yourself Howard, where you come from and who your parents were.[/b]"

The policeman reacted with expected surprise at the Butler's line of inquiry, slowly drawing together a cohesive response in his head to satisfy the questions.

"[b]...I was born in the lower west side of the city, in an averaged sized apartment. My parents were two ordinary people, my father was a policeman, a sergeant in the city police force, and my mother was a school teacher. I was the eldest of three children, a boy and two girls. I performed satisfactorily in school and when I finished I served briefly in the army at my father's request before joining the police force. When I was twenty my father was killed during urban riots over taxation along with several others. I strove to become a capable and respected officer to honour his memory...[/b]"

Flashes of memory stirred within the Butler's mind, the sounds of shouting and explosions, earnest cries for help and terrible wailing sobs for mother's far away. For the briefest moment the Butler closed his eyes and found himself gazing at an entirely different landscape with vivid clarity. He was kneeling in a roughly hewn trench, a bolt-action service rifle gripped tightly in his hands, the solid feeling of wood and steel comforting over the horrible din surrounding him. The Butler turned, his attention drawn to another figure several yards to his left further along the trench, his form jammed against the sandbags and dirt as his shook with uncontrollable terror, his rifle abandoned to the muck and water below his boots. The Butler found words forming themselves in his mouth as he clambered through the narrow trench attempting to reach the unknown man.

"[b]Sir we have to withdraw from here! The enemy is advancing on our position and our defensive line has been shattered by the latest artillery assault![/b]"

He could barely hear his own voice despite shouting, the man whom he now recognised as the major in charge of their regiment continued to hug against his cover with his eyes screwed shut. His once impeccable crimson and white uniform was smeared with filth, as were the blonde locks of his hair that lay matted to his head with sweat. Familiarity continued to dawn, an image of a frightened young man, barely twenty years old despite his rank along with a name blossomed in the Butler's mind.

"[b]Garma! Get up for God's sake! If you don't give the order to retreat and reform our lines not only will we all die but we'll open up an entire flank for the enemy to take advantage of.[/b]"

Dark hazel eyes met his own for a moment, abject terror replete within.

"[b]I...I can't...I can't move Gabriel, oh God I'm so scared...Father said this would be an easy assignment...We'd just sit on the western front...He they'd never be able to mobilise troops here...Oh God this wasn't supposed to happen! I want to go home, I want to go home.[/b]"

...Gabriel...

It was his name...How had he forgotten it ? How could he remember so much and have forgotten his name ?

Gabriel said nothing for a moment, merely watching the man he'd grown up with cower now that playing soldier to please his father had become a terrible reality. He balled his right hand into a fist and slammed it hard into Garma Rosengard's jaw, then hoisting his friend's unconscious form up onto his shoulders as he trekked back down the trenches towards their temporary headquarters where he'd find a radio and hopefully salvage something of the debacle Garma's cowardice and incompetence had created. It was true the enemy shouldn't have been able to push their front as early as they had, but Garma's assertion that his men needed to assert themselves as soldiers and lead "daring raids" into adjoining civilian settlements in order to "capture supplies and information" had likely galvanised enemy forces to prevent further...incidents.

Though it made him sick to the pit of his stomach to watch the results, Gabriel had been powerless to prevent them. Merely a lieutenant and Garma's adjutant his position in the regiment, much as his position in Rosengard Manor, was to serve, just as Gabriel's father served the Master and Mistress in the capacity as their head butler, a position Gabriel himself would likely go on to inherit provided he survived the coming battle.

In an instant Gabriel felt every inch of air pushed from his lung as pain exploded from his shoulder, and hot lifeâ??s blood poured down his back. The sensation was enough to jar the spirit from his memory and leave him once again staring down at the wary figure of Leonard Howard.[/size][/font][/indent]

[Nathan]

[font="Arial"]It was so peaceful and quiet in the room she loved best. It was all too easy to spend hours and hours sitting in the old rocking chair. If not lost in reading a book, she was often lost in her own thoughts of the things she had wanted so much in life and never got due to death. At least, she thought that was why, she couldnâ??t really remember.

Angel knew she was delaying the inevitable and yet, she found that she simply couldnâ??t help herself. There was something soothing about the old room up above the Mansionâ??s library. Even in death she spent most of her time in that room. At some point it had been closed off and the door leading to it covered by tapestries. She couldnâ??t recall whenâ?¦ wait, even in death?

Puzzled, she looked about the small dusty room with its handful of furniture and smallish bookcase loaded with all the books she liked to read... That was right, the books [i]she[/i] liked, books that she herself had stored in the bookcase, but why had she forgotten something so important?

She stood up and walked over to pick up one of the books. Her hands trembled as she opened up the front cover and read the little handwritten note inside. For my little Angelicâ?¦ the sound of the book hitting the floor was shockingly loud in her mind.

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The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulled Angelic out of the book she had been so engrossed in. With a guilty start she hastily got up and stowed it away. Mother would be so angry with her for losing track of the time. Tonight was the big celebration and she would be expected to be present.

If only she was a bit older, then she could work full time as a nurse and these tedious parties would be a thing of the past. Mother liked to pretend everything was okay but she had heard enough to know better. The glory days of Rosengard would soon be a thing of the past, unless things changed, and soon.

The sound of the steps came closer and at that moment she realized who had come up into the room. She frowned slightly at the sight of the twins. That they were here could only mean one thing.

â??[b]You two really need to stop doing that.[/b]â? She admonished them.

â??[b]Stop what?[/b]â? They replied innocently.

â??[b]You know what I mean,[/b]â? She replied crossly. â??[b]Why do you torment the poor maid like this? You know Mother will take it out on her.[/b]â?

â??[b]Oh, that.[/b]â? The pair giggled. â??[b]Youâ??re so boring sis. You should have played more while you had the chance.[/b]â?

â??[b]What?[/b]â?

One of them looked back towards the stairs. â??[b]Oh! Sheâ??s coming, time to run![/b]â? She looked back at Angelic with a smirk. â??[b]Playtime for you is over.[/b]â?

And with that the pair dashed off. Angelic stared in that direction for a moment; confused. Play time for her was over? What in the world did they mean? The sound of someone else entering the library cut the thought short. Whoâ?¦ She froze at the sound of Motherâ??s voice coming up the stairs.

â??[b]What do you want Harry?[/b]â? Marion said crossly. â??[b]The guests will be arriving soon.[/b]â?

â??[b]I would have thought what my master wants is quite clear, my lady.[/b]â?

Marion laughed. â??[b]Is that all you wanted? I told him that he would get his answer tonight.[/b]â?

â??[b]Of course,[/b]â? he replied deferentially. â??[b]I am mainly here to inform you that not only are your terms acceptable, but that he will raise it by ten percent.[/b]â?

â??[b]You should have said that from the beginning.[/b]â? Marion chided him. â??[b]I was already planning on giving him my blessings for joining our two houses together, though.[/b]â?

â??[b]I see, my master will be most pleased to hear this news, but what of Angelic?[/b]â?

â??[b]What of her? Sheâ??s a child, Harry. I donâ??t need her permission to sign the papers.[/b]â?

â??[b]Of course, my lady, I was merely referring to her [i]disposition[/i] towards my master.[/b]â?

Marion laughed again. â??[b]Like I said, sheâ??s a child, Harry. Marriage and a few kids will settle her down and put that silly nursing business out of her mind.[/b]â? She gave a slight sigh. â??[b]Anyway, if that was all you wanted, I need to go and see to the twins.[/b]â?

The sound of footsteps leaving the library echoed up the stairs to where Angelic was standing, a shocked expression on her face.

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Howâ?¦ how could she have forgotten that night and all that had followed? Angel shuddered and then stalked out of the room, furious. What did it matter? She couldnâ??t change it, much like she couldnâ??t change what was happening now. By the time she had found out she was going to be used it had been to late then, and though she didnâ??t know how this timeâ?¦ she was sure that once again it was too late. All she could do was play out her last few cards and hope for the best.

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It didn't take her long to find the Harpy. With a sigh she picked up the heart and gently placed it on her chest. A warm glow briefly surrounded both as the two were united once more. Being brought back again could drive the creature mad, but what choice did she have? Unlike the other, she at least had the strength to do what needed to be done.

She didn't bother to look at Belle when the Harpy warily got to her feet. "[b]I think you understand why I brought you back again.[/b]" She gestured in the direction of Wyatt Bishop.

"[b]You and I both know what it's like to have others decide our fates. Since that one took it upon himself to kill those who had done him no wrong, I think it's fitting that you teach him the error of his ways.[/b]"

Angel turned and left. She knew that Belle would understand and the shriek that filled the air as the Harpy launched herself towards the man told her everything she needed to know. Angel continued on her way without looking back, not even when the horrible sounds of terrified shrieks filled the air.

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