Death!

[Carlotta]

As was often the case in winter's grip, a storm had befallen upon the land. It was before this transpired, the Baron and Baroness Basinstoke of Westminster had taken their leave and traveled to the home of one Ard's colleagues in his practice. In fact, when they had departed after spending a grand evening with dinner and entertainment, the storm had yet to strike. It would be during their homeward travels such would take place. Gale winds that cut through a man and beast like the razor edge of a sword's blade. Snows heavy, driven to the point of being blinding. A combination that would be the cause and effect to the Basinstoke's demise.

None shall ever know for sure the full circumstances that caused their death. Be it the horses perhaps spooked by the foul weather, or the drivers inablity to visualize the road ahead, turning when he should have continued straight. Which ever the course of action, the Noble's carriage ended up careening over the roads edge at a point where the embankment gave way to a thirty foot drop.

The carriage was demolished, the Baron, Baroness, driver and footman survived not. Two of the four horses also would not survive, one to be badly injuried with a broken hip and leg. The fourth, miraculously managed to survive, running a short distance away to be found in thick cover later.

The heavy snow that fell would cover the carnage in a white blanket, though the spots of those injured gave the tale tell signs of red to freeze about them. It would be not until late morning the next day the accident would be discovered by two hunters tracking a stag. Then the matter of contacting proper authorities, followed by the process of identifying the bodies found, and to make proper announcement to any whom it effected.

[Carlotta]

Pain-:It was a simple matter of climbing about the rail and
into carriage housing. He took seat across from her, and immediately removed
the glass face he had donned. This was a bit of a chore for him, he had
wanted to use the masque event in a variety of ways, and yet now what
remained of his humanity was forcing him to do this. For once the Fox did not
immediately address her, he thought on his words. Usually it was an ease to
paint the picture he desired, here there was not so much a painting of a picture
but to ensure the continued function of one of his game pieces. To do that,
he had to be truthful in more than one way. He leaned forward, towards her.
His elbows came to rest on the girth of his thighs, it was an intimate
position made more so by the secondary masque which fell from his face. Gone
was the roguish ways, or stoic mask. Replaced instead by a heat, a warmth of
understanding. Whether it was false or true mattered little for the attempt was
there. :...Carlotta, forgive me in that I am not the one who should need do
this, nor is it something I can claim...proficiency in. :A pause, before his
voice continued onwards.: As you know I use information, today some of the lower
reaches of men charged with policing our fair country brought to me news they
thought minor and useless. News that will not be announced for a day, or two,
so as not to interrupt the events taking place...:This was said as if
the words left a sour taste in his mouth, the carriage turned on angle before
continuing onwards at face pace.:...A night ago your parents, during a storm,
had taken a route not often traveled. One of their horses came up lame on an
embankment, and caused the carriage to fall over. Your mother died
instantly...:It was not true, but it was a saving grace.:...It took many
hours for them to be found, and only was it noted when a single horse came wandering back. They pulled your mother from the wreckage, and your father...it was only noted then that he was still alive, for he is a strong man. They took him to the nearest building, it is where I now take you for he is dying....and while I am not your friend, nor any personal being to you. I am human, and I would rather have seen my father if it were I, then dance....:With this words the carriage came to a sudden halt, and the door was opened to offer view of a
smallish house that no doubt was some sort of storage...outside of it men in
uniform milled around, laughter ceased at the view of the door opening...and
speech went into silence.:


In a way he was spooking her, the heavy silence that hung
between them was nearly oppressive. When he leaned closer, she actually
pressed back more into her seat. Hand lifted to brush back the errant
tendrils that hid the unpatched eye. Using her name so casually in the beginning, threw up warning flags left and right. As he continued to speak, she suddenly felt as if being drawn backwards into a deep hole. His words, clearly heard, though sounding distant as he divulged this information. Shock, disbelief would be the mask which now adorned those delicate features. One chestnut hue which was visible began to blue slightly, though a hand lifted to defiantly wipe it away. "There's been some mistake. I'm sure of it. It can't be my parents, their driver was too proficient to permit such to happen." When the door of the carriage opened and out it she looked, it was the visage of the men outside that made her heart sink. Frozen in place, if she didn't step out that door, then none of this would be real. A battle within herself, accusations of
being lost in the depths of a nightmare, an illusion is all this was.
Anything but willing to accept the truth of what was dropped upon her shoulders. When her focus shifted to settle upon him, a look of loss and fear now touched her eyes and expression. Many things she was prepared to face in her lifetime,
and this wasn't one of them.


Kindness-:He allowed her a moment, but only a moment. Time
was precious...her father's body was broken and it was only a stubbornness
that kept the man alive. He reached out, coiling his hand gently about her
wrist. By his strength he led her from the carriage, his arm falling to coil about her back and give her both place to prop herself and a means to which to hold her upright should she need it. The men, many older and overweight, parted
before them as a red sea completely with matching uniforms. The door to the
mill wrights opened, and inside there were more of them. All turning and toss
around a small side room. A man that was no doubt a doctor, stood stuffing a
bag of sorts with many implements. His hand moved to cover her eyes
instantly, for to the side several sets of white sheets lay stained with
blood. His voice was cold, and callous.:...What in the blood hells do I pay
you for, get that out of here!...:It was a low, harsh whisper. The sound of boots scuffing could announce that it was met with action and the sheets were taken away. Much had been spent to make the man look presentable. Here the door was opened, and inside her father lay...wrapped in a variety of sheets to keep the blood from seeping through. A woman, no doubt the doctor's assistant, stood
at hand with a small clothe. Dabbing at the corner of his lips and under his
nose when the coughs brought blood to the surface. Other than this, he looked
pale...but himself. Here the Fox released her, and turned to close the door.
Odd when even he knows not what to do.:


Her movements were like that of a zombie, not under her
thoughtful control as she was lead like a blind woman from the carriage
interior. It was like a dream being walked through, a glance at the faces
that gazed back upon her. They would offer her smiles, though she knew it was a matter of compassion for the moment. Her own features retain that lost expression, and when the house was entered, that feeling of dread only increased when she felt his hand rise to cover the one eye; as the patch still adorned the
other. It was then she found herself released within the room, his hand to
lower and now offer her the view of her father's prone form. Still in denial
that this was going on even with the man laid out before her. When the door closed behind her, her father's eyes would open and turn to rest upon her. "Papa?" A title not used since she was but a child, and the demand of the formal use in public because of station superseded.

He offered just a small smile, taking in his daughters state of dress. His smile then twitched into a slight grin. "Seems I'll never get you to stop wearing pants, will I child." A statement more than a question posed, a reference to that very childhood of her's.


Puzzled for a moment, it was then she glanced down and realized how she was dressed for the Masque. Looking back up at him, hand lifted to quickly pull off the tricorn and toss it haphazardly aside, followed by the patch. Kerchief still graced the crown of ebon in the form of a skull cap. Swift strides carried her to his bedside, and there she lowered to take his cool, clammy hand between the warmth of her's. "You're so cold." A bare whisper as she began to slowly rub his hand to warm it up. The next round of coughs had her gazing upon his face, and this time she wouldn't fight back the tears that welled in her eyes.

His other hand rose to rest it's cooled palm against the heat of her soft cheek. Eyes closed which caused a trail of tears to spill over cheeks, head tilted to press more against his hand. "I'll be warm soon enough my
little Carly. It's you who I worry about most."


Slowly eyes would open as she'd gaze upon him, now the tears would stream steadily. "I can take care of myself, you should know that by now."


As he gazed up at her, a loving smile would form. "I've no doubt you could lass, but your spirit is strong, too strong sometimes. You tread on dangerous grounds too often." Again a coughing fit would wrack his battered form, causing one of the wounds to begin to bleed more freely. The tale tell signs now showing through the thickness of those covers.


This time she snagged the cloth from the nurse and tended to her father on her own. "You're the one who taught me, never give up on your dreams. Fight for what you believe in. I'm doing nothing less than following your advice."

His hand would pat her cheek lightly. "You can't do it all by yourself Carly, although you think you can." Another barrage of coughs, this time the blood began to steadily trickle from the side of his mouth. "I made my peace with God, Carly. I want to do the same with you. I love you, you know this. I have never wanted anything but the best for you. It'll not change with my passing, the best is all I wish you to ever have. To be happy and live a good life."

Tears, they blinded her, causing his face to melt before her. Hand lifted as it's back was drawn across to wipe them free.

"Fetch me the Captain Carly, quickly. I fear there's little time left." A hoarse whisper.

Puzzled by his request, she'd nod and quickly move to seek out
the one her father asked for. Once found, her voice cracked slightly as she
spoke. "Sir Adolph, my father wishes to speak to you." Once she had said what
was needed to be, she was quickly to her father's side once more.


Time-:Odd that as one of the class he was currently part
of, he actually did his best to not listen. It was a difficult venture but
one he pulled off well enough. He had no desires to think upon that which
sent him down his path, that which was very much tied into family matters. He had turned his back in politeness, though stayed in the room as defense against
any others as well to be there for her. He could not stop the memories, of
family deposed and killed in the name of religion. Though his father had been
a wise man, and no doubt knew it was coming. Having a wife who was Spanish,
and Muslim was not a good combination. It had been only a matter of time
before an enemy with ties to the Catholic church ended his childhood forever.
His name broke through the wall he had placed, and he turned...un-able to
hide the risen eyebrow. Him? Why on earth would the man want to speak to him
of all people. Yet he did not voice it, instead coming about the bed in a hurried manner to bed low at waist. What else was he to do? Say no? His voice was soft, but loud enough for the man to hear. It held none of the confusion he
held internally.:.. Yes my Lord Baron?...


When the Captain neared the bed, Ard would beckon him closer, the words were to be whispered near his ear. "I leave her in your charge." The last words to impart the Baron's lips, as a cough wracked the
man's body, blood began to flow readily from his mouth.

It was with horror she looked on, not that it was the first time she had ever seen a man die in a violent manner. This was her father laying before her, which made it more impactual than a friend; close or not. The nurse moved around to push her back from the bed, leaving her standing there looking down at him feeling more lost. No longer could she bear to witness the sight, and as his last breath began to leave his body, she turned and fled from the room. Pushing past all the men as she ran through, bursting through the door and out into the chill of the night. Deep breaths being taken, oh God, she felt as if she was going to throw up. Bending forward, hands pressed to the top of thighs, just in case that feeling decided to be more instead.


Fool-:He was frozen, as the man being to cough...to hack.
He half heard the door open and the Lady run out of it even as her father
grew still in a pool of his blood and spit...Anger welled in him.:...Old man,
wake up...:His hand rose to shake the body at which point the nurse nearly
fainted.:...This is not funny, I do not have time to play babysitter-...:He
growled lifting instead, this was some kind of fool joke. Who the hell was he
to be in charge of anyone, what the hell was he to do anything. He was not
going to be morally obligated to the barrister, he had things to do. He
looked down upon the corpse, behind the Lady’s' departure men came in, the
first to pose a question of what to do with the Baron?:...That is not the Baron, it is a cadaver...take it to wherever you have his wife. Arrangements will be
made...:With this he too turned and left the room, the sense of anger and
annoyance slowly dissipating to a simple sense of dis-satisfaction. It was
not difficult to find her, she had not gone far and even without a dress it
is not hard to distinguish the woman from the men especially in current
position. A fact that was not going un-noticed by those gathered, and one he quickly rectified. Taking up place to her side, he blocked view as his hand fell to her back and began to rub in small circles...silently. He wasn't even sure he
was welcomed, now he was to what? Play daddy?:


When she felt the touch to her back, she quickly
straightened and stepped away. "I'll be alright." As was the way of grief,
anger would be felt and exhibited. Angry at what or whom, she would be unable
to answer that question clearly at the moment. Her mind was reeling. She knew well the events that should now take place, having the bodies delivered and
prepped for burial. Her parents were members of the church, so it would mean
a formal service, as much as she dreaded such. The contacting of her siblings and aunt. Right hand lifted, hand to cross over her eyes in a momentary hold
before fingers began the gentle message of her forehead. It was then she
remembered, as her hand slowly lowered to have those pained tear filled eyes now rest upon him. "What did he say to you?" More of a demanding tone in wanting to
know what her father's last words were.


The truth in the lies-:He was correct of her, ever the
strong one. His arms folded behind back as he straightened to look at her.
She was very beautiful, and her momentary weakness only made it more so. She
did not need a dress to be an alluring creature. He could take advantage of this, or at least try. He did not...perhaps it was some compassion, or simply a
momentary lapse in judgment. Instead his voice instantly responded with the
ease of a lie, a lie that was easier to swallow then the truth.:..He said,
"Thank you for my daughter."..:It would appear she was the last of his
thoughts. It would make sense also that he would thank the Captain for
bringer her to see him, and it was what he would use. Besides what did it matter, it was not like things were changed...but...could he still use her, or could he still toss her away with that dying man's words in his head? He was not sure, for the first time in a long time. Perhaps he would need to re-think things, re-work them. The thanks he got for being kind, or at least partially.:...I will take you home now Lady...


For a long moment she just stood there looking at him, it
was then with a sigh and sloping of shoulders she'd nod. Steps forward would
have her stepping past him, though to pause as his side and glance up. "I
thank you too, for giving me the little time allotted." How she wish she could
have done the same with her mother, but that wasn't possible. Where had their
so called God been in their time of need? Only another spur to put in the
heart of the woman who believed not in their ways. Just as she was about to
move, hesitation in her steps, another glance up at him before she'd speak
again. "I'd say your costume was quite befitting this night, offering view of
your familiar." Oh yes she dubbed him the Fox, but unlike the manner other's did. "I'm sure you'd like to return to your ladies in waiting, you need not
accompany me further, Sir Adolph." Giving him leave of her presence, she'd
not ruin the man's night in the way her's had been. It was then she stepped past, heading towards the carriage, that was until she spied a loose tied horse in the distance. Here her path shifted and it would be towards it she now moved.


Intercept-:She would not be allowed in her plan to run away
so easily. Once more, the third time tonight, his arm hooked into her own arm
and had every intention of steering her back towards the carriage.:...They
will wait. I am not so vile a creature, but thank you all the same...:He
would rather go rut a woman than escort her home, was the basics of what she
had said. He would forgive her for now.:...Besides, my balls have been
entrusted to a Lady who has yet to return them to me....:He smiled, a fake smile that was intended to make her at least pretend to laugh. He would not take no for an answer, he was not going to let her ride off and do something silly.
Besides no matter her manner he did not think she wished to truly be alone.:


Again she found her arm linked within his hold and being
lead back towards the carriage. His attempt of humor would have indeed
illicit at laugh or smirk in another place of time. Tonight, however, she'd
simply look up at him and offer the slightest, and yes, faux smile she could. "I never accused you of being vile, Sir. This is not a problem of yours and I
obligate you not in it." In truth, she wanted to simply scream at the top of
her lungs, to curse all things that lead to her parents death. She wanted to hurt something, make something hurt as badly as she did within. Toiling emotions
out of control, like a volcano in the midst of eruption. Once they were at
the door to the carriage, here she would halt and pull her arm free of his
grasp and looked up at him. "As for you bullocks, Sir Adolph, I can assure
you they're in safe hands." Bit of a grin that appeared more smug than a
showing of teasing words. Waving off the hands of any who approached to assist,
she'd enter the carriage on her own accord and plop down upon the seat. Before all who now witnessed her actions, she’d appear strong, brave. A good front, when inside she was falling apart. For the first time in her life, Carlotta Basinstoke knew what it felt like to house a broken heart.