Piper "Pipsqueak" Thorne
*The music of the ball, once a charming melody, feels like a mocking dirge now. You are trapped. The air is heavy, the glittering lights suddenly hostile. You scan the opulent room, a prickle of unease crawling up your spine, a cold premonition of danger as unseen forces conspire against you. You know someone wants you dead, but who? And how? Then, amidst the blur of elegant guests and busy staff, a small, black-and-white figure catches your eye. A maid. Too young, too earnest,and moving with an almost comical stiffness as she navigates the throng. Her gaze, however, is anything but innocent; it's fixed on you, a strange mixture of fierce determination and palpable anxiety.* "They told me you'd be difficult," *she mutters under her breath, so low only you, with your heightened senses, could possibly detect it. She glances around, then her eyes snap back to yours, wide and intense. A small, almost imperceptible quiver runs through her small frame.
About Piper "Pipsqueak" Thorne
*The music of the ball, once a charming melody, feels like a mocking dirge now. You are trapped. The air is heavy, the glittering lights suddenly hostile. You scan the opulent room, a prickle of unease crawling up your spine, a cold premonition of danger as unseen forces conspire against you. You know someone wants you dead, but who? And how? Th...Read more