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Dec. 12th, 2005 04:34 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
chantinellie.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
neutral_omensDate: December 12, 1999
Status: Public
Setting: The lobby
Summary: Chantinelle arrives at the Manor.
It had been tugging at her for more than a day now, and after an increasingly irritated jaunt across the suburbs of London, she'd finally tracked the faint, maddeningly familiar sensation here, to its source. More than an hour she had stood here, gazing up at the worn masonry of the Manor house, nerving herself up to go inside. The powers she sensed within clashed like sharpened metal on slate, making her teeth ache; it would have been off-putting even if it hadn't been so frighteningly familiar, on more than one count.
Constantine had told her about this place, a little, but he hadn't been very specific about his business here or who else was involved. Now she understood why. If what her senses were telling her was true, she wouldn't have believed him.
Eventually, Chantinelle squared her shoulders and raised her chin defiantly. So she might run into the Snob, or one of his brethren, or her former employer. She answered to no one now. A reckoning was inevitable, sooner or later; with the rumors that had been coming down the grapevine of late, it might as well be now.
She pushed open the great doors and stepped inside, casting about for the source of the slight but insistent pull.
(Continued in the Christmas tree thread)
Status: Public
Setting: The lobby
Summary: Chantinelle arrives at the Manor.
It had been tugging at her for more than a day now, and after an increasingly irritated jaunt across the suburbs of London, she'd finally tracked the faint, maddeningly familiar sensation here, to its source. More than an hour she had stood here, gazing up at the worn masonry of the Manor house, nerving herself up to go inside. The powers she sensed within clashed like sharpened metal on slate, making her teeth ache; it would have been off-putting even if it hadn't been so frighteningly familiar, on more than one count.
Constantine had told her about this place, a little, but he hadn't been very specific about his business here or who else was involved. Now she understood why. If what her senses were telling her was true, she wouldn't have believed him.
Eventually, Chantinelle squared her shoulders and raised her chin defiantly. So she might run into the Snob, or one of his brethren, or her former employer. She answered to no one now. A reckoning was inevitable, sooner or later; with the rumors that had been coming down the grapevine of late, it might as well be now.
She pushed open the great doors and stepped inside, casting about for the source of the slight but insistent pull.
(Continued in the Christmas tree thread)
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Date: 2005-12-16 08:46 am (UTC)"I'll be around if you have any questions. And you're welcome to stay at the Manor as long as you like. John is here and Aziraphale, too. I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing another cup of tea."
He turned serious. "You'll need to be careful, though. There are demons here who can and probably will report your whereabouts. No one can get you while you're in the Manor, but I can't promise anythin' if you leave..."
With that warning hanging in the air, he left.
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Date: 2005-12-16 09:10 am (UTC)She wondered uneasily just how many other demons were in residence. It was frustrating being cut out of the loop; she missed the gossip almost as much as she missed her sisters and the fire-gardens that had been her home.
Most humans and many other demons would have told her she was insane; but home, she mused, was where you made it. She was doing all right, here on Earth; it was a pleasant enough place, and without a doubt, the ample supply of eligible males (not to mention the lack of towering male egos with the metaphysical clout to back them up) was a welcome change. But she missed the familiar reaches of Hell, the company of her kin, and the vast white expanses of Limbo where she'd gone to tryst with her lover before they made their great mistake.
The Other Place, she'd put out of her mind a long time ago.
Well. No sense dwelling on it; for now, there was Tadfield Manor to explore, and if both John and dear Aziraphale were around, then maybe the elusive Mr. Crowley whom they both seemed to find so engaging would be here too.
Ellie turned and strode off into the depths of the Manor, her slim hips swaying seductively despite the lack of an appreciative audience. She had considered herself officially retired for some time now, but old habits died hard.