[Sodium_noir] Hell is Other People

[SN Storyteller]

Sinclair Mansion
1-3am
Mara, Christine, Sandra, Bradley

Sandra waits a polite distance behind with her best socialite smile as she waits for Christine to make the first moves. She wanted to get a feel for the personalities she would be dealing with, quietly prayed that whatever was going on between her newfound charge and this Mara Ravenclaw would go smoothly.

The room smells wrong to sandra. Like more than one dusty old Tomb she'd investigated only to find the dead occupant was still moving around. The Children of Sutekh, the Nats, the blood drinkers. The Wyrm left his stink on his own and those they touched, and this room was cloying with that smell. 

Lady S. Spritly and fit for her age. Behind the lavender and old lace, there was the stink of falsly hindered aging. Of the tatste of undead ichor on her lips. Strange though it may be to find a Ghul of this age when the Undead preffered the young and beutiful as thralls. 

Lady S. wasn't the only one to cause Sandra's nose to itch, but of the mixed singals, hers was the most obvious.

~ Taggity Lady Sinclaire, Bradley, Mara, and Christine :-)

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