Entry tags:
[ CLOSED ] Smells Like Teen Angst
WHO: Athessa, Jenny Lou, Matthias
WHAT: Some light B&E
WHEN: Post-Abomination (that night or the next)
WHERE: Hightown
NOTES: potential cw for rape mention because of the location, tags will ofc be labeled
WHAT: Some light B&E
WHEN: Post-Abomination (that night or the next)
WHERE: Hightown
NOTES: potential cw for rape mention because of the location, tags will ofc be labeled

Nobody has moved into the Devigny estate.
To claim that as the only concern with breaking in to lay waste to whatever remains within those walls would be only mostly true, with the remaining however-many percent belonging to Athessa's mind alone. (She never saw the body; how can she know without seeing for herself?) But since the doubt is far outweighed by the certainty of darkened windows, a notice on the front door, and the evidence of prior misdemeanor, the only reason not to pursue this to its hopefully satisfying end is the possibility of arrest.
The kitchen entrance at the rear of the manor is open but aside from broken glass from the window scattered over the floor, it seems to have suffered very little for being so exposed. Perhaps a cupboard is open and bare, perhaps a bottle of wine left out next to a stained glass.
"Careful," Athessa whispers, pointing to the glittering shards on the floor as she navigates around them. Funny, how a place that has haunted her for so long can feel so lifeless at last. Empty, entirely.

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Distracted by the chandelier and by marking out its fall--it will be a far fall, how good--he looks around at Athessa again to see what she will say. Now he can see her in profile, the tight winch of her jaw.
There's an itch in his fingers. He sidesteps so he's closer to Athessa, but gives his attention back to the chandelier.
"Everyone house here has grounds and gardens and walls and all. There's no way we'll be heard, right?"
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"This is the small one. There's an even bigger chandelier over the great hall, just through there—" Athessa gestures to the other door in the room, to their right and sitting directly opposite the fireplace. It looks like someone, in the past six months, had a nice little picnic in here, and left the scraps for the rats.
Looking up at the glittering spectacle they're about to destroy, she smiles, eyes gleaming. "Mind the shrapnel, yeah?"
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It falls and Jenny Lou wishes they had a camera or something, but it falls and lands on the grand dining room table. It hits and the sound is cacophonous, wood splintering and crystal pinging off the marble floor. The silence in the aftermath is even more stark.
"And now we got firewood," Jenny Lou says, stepping towards the remains of chandelier and table to stomp and yank and pull one of the table's legs free.
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He's grinning when the noise goes away, and he darts forward to kick at a clump of crystal. It sprays off like ice, smatters on the floor in smaller pieces. Pleased, he does it again, kicking the largest bit into a smaller bit, and then smaller, kicking again.
"Let's have a fire and drink whatever wine is left."
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"Now you're talkin'!" She fetches up a fistful of crystal and throws it against the wall, smack-dab in the middle of a painting over the fireplace. "Do we even wanna use the fireplace? We could just set the fuckin' table on fire."
The entrance to the wine cellar is back the way they came, just beyond the kitchen door beneath the stairs. She'd cited that as the place she most wanted to destroy, but now that she's here, she wants to go through that other door, into the rest of the house.
She turns to head back towards the kitchen. She can wait. "The wine's back this way."
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"Be a waste of a perfectly good table if we didn't use it," she says, kicking around some of the loose crystals herself. Shouldering her club, she follows Athessa, pausing only to lift her club like a bat and send some vase on a decorative table flying. "Bet a rich fucker like this had some nice wine."
Not that she would know the difference. Not that it mattered.
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"The minute we're back, I'll have the whole thing burnt up," he promises cheerfully. "And if we still want to have another fire when that's done, we can use the fireplace then. This is brilliant."
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She can smell it. The wine. The bitter bite of it in the stale air, a sharp vinegary scent hinting at just how long it's been undisturbed. Someone broke a bottle down here, Athessa sees the severed neck of the bottle with the cork still inside, connected to the underside of a storage shelf with cobwebs and more dust.
On the bottom step, she hesitates. Takes a deep breath, and when she steps down — it's just a step. It's just a dusty cellar floor, bordered with tall racks of dusty wine bottles. A bundle of garlic hangs on the wall, some dried rosemary, a spare cheese board on a hook. Relief draws that breath back out, and she steps around the broken glass to grab an unbroken bottle.
"How many shall we spare?"