If anything, she looks more like a cavalier than Gideon usually does, mumping along in Harrow's wake and gawking at any available displays of the female form. Harrow moves as she always does, swiftly and intently, like a great black bat swooping through the halls.
Canaan House is a weird place; beautiful and gone to seed. There is a profligate use of organic materials that made Harrow breathless when she first arrived, impossibly old and yet still somehow intact.
At one point she freezes and puts up a hand for Moiraine to halt; she waits in a doorway with hooded eyes until a wan blonde wraith lurking in the vestibule moves on. She does not worry about being seen by the skeletons in white robes. They can hear splashing as they pass the gymnasium.
Then they are in front of the living quarters shared by Harrow and Gideon; Harrow works quickly to disable the wards she has put on the room, then waves Moiraine inside. The Ninth quarters have low ceilings and wide-sweeping rooms, with enormous floor-to-ceiling windows that lpeek out from beneath the docks on a pale green undead sea.
The room was dressed, long ago, in dead jewel tones; to eyes not used to the harsh monotony of the Ninth it seems muted and peaceful, like a tasteful mortuary. Every piece of furniture seems twelth-hand and a day away from falling away to kindling.
Two late teenagers with no supervision have lived here for weeks, and there is a definite floor-based laundry system in play that Harrow has the decency to be embarrassed about. Her dresser stands with one door slightly ajar.
There are two great beds, placed at right angles to one another; one has been used and the other has not, and Gideon Nav is in neither. She is snoring like a foghorn from an adjoining room.
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Date: 2020-08-30 08:08 pm (UTC)Canaan House is a weird place; beautiful and gone to seed. There is a profligate use of organic materials that made Harrow breathless when she first arrived, impossibly old and yet still somehow intact.
At one point she freezes and puts up a hand for Moiraine to halt; she waits in a doorway with hooded eyes until a wan blonde wraith lurking in the vestibule moves on. She does not worry about being seen by the skeletons in white robes. They can hear splashing as they pass the gymnasium.
Then they are in front of the living quarters shared by Harrow and Gideon; Harrow works quickly to disable the wards she has put on the room, then waves Moiraine inside. The Ninth quarters have low ceilings and wide-sweeping rooms, with enormous floor-to-ceiling windows that lpeek out from beneath the docks on a pale green undead sea.
The room was dressed, long ago, in dead jewel tones; to eyes not used to the harsh monotony of the Ninth it seems muted and peaceful, like a tasteful mortuary. Every piece of furniture seems twelth-hand and a day away from falling away to kindling.
Two late teenagers with no supervision have lived here for weeks, and there is a definite floor-based laundry system in play that Harrow has the decency to be embarrassed about. Her dresser stands with one door slightly ajar.
There are two great beds, placed at right angles to one another; one has been used and the other has not, and Gideon Nav is in neither. She is snoring like a foghorn from an adjoining room.