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 Eleonora's room

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PostSubject: Eleonora's room   Fri Dec 19, 2014 12:57 pm

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...For a few moments she could pretend it was 1890 again...

Eleonora Tilly, the woman was a living monument. Frozen in time she became the embodiment of the Victorian Era. Today was her day off and she had just gotten back from traveling back in time thanks to a cozy little Tea Room that she had discovered along the Thames. It was Spring when she had managed to get herself lost again in London and stumbled upon 'Annabelle's Cozy Corner'. She became a regular customer, visiting them whenever she got the chance.

Today Nora was wearing a floor-length, white, lace dress with broad shoulder straps and a well-endowed cleavage. The back of the dress had a small bustle with ruffles flowing down to her ankles, she wore matching heels. Over it she wore a simple black under-bust corset laced together on the front with silver colored ribbons that ends in a bow near her cleavage. She also wore a long-sleeved, black, lace cardigan. And since she had just returned to the manor she was still wearing her black gloves, and black and white hat decorated with roses and tulle.

She walked down the basement steps with bag in hand, making another turn before she reached her room. It was odd for a woman like her to want to stay in here of all places. It wasn't that she didn't like staying in a beautiful room where one could be greeted by the sun and the tjirping of birds in the morning. It was more about safety, she preferred dark rooms where she could have access to her powers to defend herself if something should happen. That and she got sick and tired of bright rooms.

She opened the door and turned on the lights. There weren't any windows, the light sources were simple lamps with light bulbs to resemble like candles like a simple chandelier and a table lamp or two. She put the bag on one of her dressers. She had two, a tall wooden closet next to her bed, which was covered with satin blankets and pillows. And the dresser near the door that had an oval mirror hanging above.


Sitting atop the dresser was a red gramophone, she gently moved the needle in place as the tunes of Chopin began to fill the room.


She reached into the bag sitting next to it and pulled out a snow globe with a miniature Eiffel tower. She shook it a couple of time and smiled as tiny snowflakes swirled about. She took it with her as she walked towards her vanity, she placed the globe next to a perfume bottle and started to take off her hat. Taking off the few hatpins and placing them back in a small jar while she took off her hat and set it aside.

She sat down and took off her gloves while watching the globe. "Well, it's no Bayonne but close enough." The Basque didn't really have a monument suitable for a franchise, all they have is their music, food and unique language that you will not find anywhere else.

Maybe she should visit Bayonne again for Christmas. She had permission before to visit her old home somewhere during the Summer. She was appalled by what she discovered.


The manor had become an attraction. Public tours were given to this restorated and haunted home. Everything was still as it was, well most of it anyway. Her room was untouched, she had to chuckle when she saw it. It was probably untouched because people feared being plagued by whatever was 'supposedly' haunting her back in the day. As she listened to the tour guide spouting forth lies about her family. Stories about how her father was a slave trader...Well, partial truth there. The biggest lie was about herself...A promiscuous witch that dabbled with the Devil and haunts this manor still.

She couldn't help but laugh when the guide spoke. Everyone stared at her for a while until she apologized and then continued the tour. Soon after a boy drew her attention. He had said that she looked like 'the lady in the paintings'. He pointed at one of the paintings decorating the house. It was one of her old portraits.

She got separated from the group while she stared at herself. The portrait showed her with a green dress, her hair was pinned up and she was carrying a fan.


She blinked a few times, pushing back the memories and stared at the mirror on the vanity. She really hasn't aged at all... "135 years...", she whispered. The only difference was that her skin was no longer unblemished, she thought to herself as she runs a hand over her mourning locket and then the scars on her chest.
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