Where is everybody?
Nuare smirks knowingly and lets some belladonna cherries fall into his chalice, then adds more wine. His nose is bleeding slowly, and he absentmindedly wipes it with the back of his gloved hand. He's really drunk, and yet he knows that if anyone in the inn gets any strange ideas about mugging him, he can break them in two in less than a second. This irritates him.
Seraph is too busy sword practicing with his teacher to notice the bleeding cuts on his body.
Dorian removes the last blood from under his nails and then dries the sink.
Filigree and Catkin juggle with knives that they throw to each other rapidly, taunting each other in a language no-one has heard in a very long time.
Lash removes his top hat while offering a single white rose to the girl with the violin. Its thorns are vicious enough to prick him through his white glove. Reality pulls apart gently in order for him to manifest in our age, like a curtain made of whispers.
Arunas tiptoes centimeters away from the edge of the roof, while humming to himself a traditional Lithuanian song. Should he lose his balance, the fall will be very, very long. He smiles quietly. He tried it just before.
Etielle finds himself over a torn corpse with no memory of what took place. Again.
Elizabeth listens to them all.
Blood and pain unite them all.
One homeland for all.
Myself.
