Location: Her Home ---> Outisde
Interacting With: No one
Eudora didn't know what she was expecting out of her new life here in Coventry. Did she really think she would've lived a quiet life? She rolled her eyes as another audible gasp sounded from the TV. A part of Eudora wanted to just switch off the TV and sleep this other nightmare away, but her insatiable curiosity kept eating at her and soon she couldn't resist it anymore.
"At this moment, the suspect is at large and is to be considered armed and dangerous. Do not approach the suspect if spotted. Instead, call the police hotline immediately. Rest assured, Valeska will be brought to justice, so help me God."
"God? Bah, old fool," she muttered bitterly to herself while continuing to listen.
"A curfew will be-"
She had heard enough. She laid her head back and sighed as all the sounds returned to dull meaningless vibrations and then to total utter silence as the TV shut itself off. She straightened her head back and sagged her shoulders, already tired at the thought of the cops knocking on her door. She turned her head slightly, observing her still room hoping the familiarity of it will bring her calm.
The room was spacious, which was a trait that wouldn't last long. Already all that extra leg room was being eaten up by scattered scrolls and a large cauldron. She turned her head at the black pot and smiled, thinking back to old memories before wiping the smile off her face as bitter memories formed too. She shook her head to rid her of them and once again sighed. A hopeless and bored sigh of someone with nothing to do or with too much on their plate. Perhaps both. The silence started to pound on her ears again. She shattered it with a groan and sunk herself deeper into the armchair. She thought of moving again, packing up and leaving before it all started to crash and burn again. But what would be the point? Surely trouble will follow her no matter where she goes. Nothing to do but to grin and bear it but Eudora was struggling with both those actions.
She once again looked about her room, her eyes flicking towards a pile of tomes and a switched off TV, where a turquoise evil eye charm stared at her intently from the wall behind it, before letting her gaze fall onto the door. It was heavy and pretty strong, good nails in it too. You couldn't take it down with a swift kick. Or so she thought. It was all false hope really. She looked at the window next, and
hoped that it was reinforced, she looked to the walls and
hoped they weren't easy to tear down, she looked to the floor and
hoped the neighbours would hear if she was in trouble. She sunk deeper into her chair, straightened out her legs and sunk her head into her jacket like a turtle as it finally dawned on her; she was scared.
She wasn't ashamed but rather annoyed by the fact she was scared. Why should she have to be sacred? She didn't want any of this. She didn't ask for such a horrible relationship between authorities and witches. She didn't want to have a murderer be on the loose. She didn't want to have to deal with the incoming horror show. But there she was, knee deep in an inescapable muck of trauma and sadness. She had to admit, though, there was a certain thrill to it all. It made her feel alive and young, powerful too. Maybe she'd the one to catch the culprit, be appreciated and world renowned. Go on adventures and snoop around with a magnifying glass like the immortalised detectives of the past.
A cold wind prickled her bare skin as she looked up at the ceiling and wrapped her shawl tighter around herself. Perhaps it was best to be a little cautious, though.
She got up from her chair, knees creaking like ancient wood. Despite being centuries old, age was finally getting to her. She waddled up to her front door, stepping out and giving her room one last look before closing the door and hearing her door lock behind her with an audible click. She bundled herself up in her shawl and went towards the stairs leading down, perhaps a brisk walk will lighten her mood.
As she begun to head down the steps, she turned her head upwards, looking at the way that leads up towards the 4th floor, above it would be the where owners lived. She knew it was out of bounds to residents, but then again, it wouldn't hurt to just check up on everybody, make sure they're ok, you know? Looking about timidly to make sure no one was around, she took a calming breath and started walking up. She took slow quiet steps upwards, careful to not make too much noise. She passed the 4th floor without paying any attention to it and continued moving upwards.
As she neared the top floor, a weight started to form on her shoulders, a cold sweat dripped from her forehead, her steps slowing and her heart pounding. She shouldn't be here, she wasn't some great detective with a snarky servant at her side. She was a weary old woman sticking her nose in things that didn't concern her, but still, just the wonder of what waited up there. She didn't know what she was expecting to see. A locked door? A bloody hallway? She raised her head up and peaked into the top floor for a split second, the image of what lay at the end of the staircase flashing before her for the briefest of moments before she bounded down the stairs in graceful, silent, yet hurried steps.
She reached the ground floor, panting slightly and her legs aching as she slowed to a walking pace. Dabbing the sweat off her with her shawl, Eudora walked through the front lobby, trying to look as innocent as possible while gliding past residents and staff. Abruptly, she stopped, looking out the swinging doors, feeling something she couldn't describe. Tiredness perhaps? Anticipation? Fear? Her dark shining eyes flicked to and fro, seeing all these faces moving past. She squirmed slightly in her outfit. The thin jacket, loose shawl, flowing dress, all in a dark chocolate brown you'd expect to see in a business suit or a discarded carpet. It all felt very wrong, was she meant to be here? To meddle in mortal matters? Was the universe punishing her for not living the way she was intended to? Eudora wanted to just strip off her clothes, let down her storm cloud grey hair, letting it reach her lower back and bounce with every step she took while she frolicked with the spirit of a deer.
But right now, in that AC conditioned room with her hair in a too tight of a bun, she didn't feel like a witch. She felt like an old woman. An old, tired, clueless woman.
For once, she stifled a sigh and just walked out in a disappointed silence.