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Post by Nicole Hatter on Apr 29, 2011 18:25:48 GMT
The iron gates screeched open, let the carriage pass, then slammed shut. The carriage stopped infront of building. Cole stepped down from inside it with the help of the footman that had come along. She nodded in thanks to him. He answered with a hesistant and frightened smile. He was a newer employee of the Hatter househole, so he had yet to expereicance the powerful air around Cole. This only made her smile last longer. She looked up. The building looked like anyother medical building in London, but there was something different about it. It towered over her like a monster ready to swallow her whole. The wind picked up around her, swirling her skirts and hair then blowing toward the door. Cole giggled and put her hand over her locket. It seems this will be our home for now, Drareg. She stepped forward. A step in the direction of her new life.
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Post by Madam Mournington on May 21, 2011 16:01:55 GMT
The huge door in front of Nicole slowly opened. Out came a rather small, but seemingly powerful woman wearing a black dress. "Welcome to The Asylum For Wayward Victorian Girls," she smiled and made a welcoming gesture. The smile wasn't a happy smile, more a smile of pity. "Follow me," she continued, turned around after she had shaken the new inmate's hand, and walked back towards the building. "I do hope your will enjoy your stay. As you probably already know, the amount of days, hours, maybe years, you will be staying here with us, is not planned. If you recover from your insanity, you can come back into the world again. But you will have to stay here for now."
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Post by Nicole Hatter on Jun 24, 2011 6:25:42 GMT
Cole followed closely behind the woman. She listened intently with the smile still on her face. When the woman finished speaking, Cole politely spoke up, "Permission to speak, Miss...?" She trailed off. She couldn't recall if the woman had given her name or not. Maybe I am going mad. The thought would have made Cole laugh any other time. For now, she kept smiling.
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