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ManaSaying Coventina never left the secluded comforts of the Phantom Lord guild hall would be facetious - an exaggeration, surely, because how else did she eat? Not every meal would wander up to her in those backrooms - oh, despite her ever-meticulous efforts - and they did get ever so cross if she made a mess. Discretion only brought you so far. She didn't have friends or allies among the associates in her guild; this was a matter of convenience for all of them, wasn't it? This would suit her just fine but offer little leeway to bend the rules of the establishment to her whims. She had her role. They all did. Any trouble to the guild would be trouble for her head.
She wasn't willing to give up the security it offered, either. It wasn't a matter of stability: you had to be somewhere to get anywhere, and a guild of criminals was better than a gang on the street. She was far too precious for that kind of grime now. It fed her hunger for more ... and she was about starving, sighing between paled cherry lips until her canines caught the streetlights. This also meant she received little in the way of financial support; she didn't seek it from Phantom Lord, but it wouldn't hurt, would it? What a poor pretty woman, fending out here for herself. Her coffers might mysteriously never find themselves empty, but Coventina Carmen didn't settle for scraping by.
A single quiet step, maneuvering her heels as if attached with a silencer, was all it took to cross the threshold out of her guild and into the folds of night. She was an empress between them, glittering beneath the first peek of moonlight as the sun rocked itself down to sleep. There were always a band of straggling members at these wee hours, especially in this crest of twilight -- and they could express their befuddlement with her appearance, especially before the dead set in its later hours, but she paid them little mind. Yes, absurd to suggest she never left her chambers.
But so strange to see her, wasn't it?
[ 371 ]
She wasn't willing to give up the security it offered, either. It wasn't a matter of stability: you had to be somewhere to get anywhere, and a guild of criminals was better than a gang on the street. She was far too precious for that kind of grime now. It fed her hunger for more ... and she was about starving, sighing between paled cherry lips until her canines caught the streetlights. This also meant she received little in the way of financial support; she didn't seek it from Phantom Lord, but it wouldn't hurt, would it? What a poor pretty woman, fending out here for herself. Her coffers might mysteriously never find themselves empty, but Coventina Carmen didn't settle for scraping by.
A single quiet step, maneuvering her heels as if attached with a silencer, was all it took to cross the threshold out of her guild and into the folds of night. She was an empress between them, glittering beneath the first peek of moonlight as the sun rocked itself down to sleep. There were always a band of straggling members at these wee hours, especially in this crest of twilight -- and they could express their befuddlement with her appearance, especially before the dead set in its later hours, but she paid them little mind. Yes, absurd to suggest she never left her chambers.
But so strange to see her, wasn't it?
[ 371 ]
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