The Avalon was quiet now. The others had gone and left Martha alone with Brenn.

Bashful and gentle, Martha had hobbled close to Brenn. She was inspecting her carefully. As if trying to assess Brenn's mood...and, briefly, her shoes. Leaning hard on her cane, Martha is very pale and small.

She makes a gentle gesture with her free hand towards the Meeting Chambers, "Would you care to join me in resting in one of those, miss? I assure you I do not snore! My aim is only to offer mutual support to you, miss, during the hours of daylight!" she giggles, all bashful, careful to watch Brenn's eyes and face. She does not flinch at Brenn's deformity, sincere in her words, it seems, "I have a spare nightgown, which I will happily lend to you! It would be a pleasure to do so, in fact! You are free to use the washroom facilities and other such things to change!" she smiles as she makes the offer. Her free hand instantly goes to rubbing at her crippled hip and thigh once the pointing to the chambers is done. Quietly waiting any words or gesture from Brenn.

Brenn's eyes had been half clouded in fog, the light of her focus drawn inward, but as Martha offered her Hospitality a large grin broke over the Haunt's features. "I would gladly share a room with you, Herald, even if said room happened to be submerged in water. But, I'm afraid I'll decline the nightgown. I don't really see the need for one since we don't sweat and our bodies don't host many types of bacteria. One of the many perks of not having a pulse, isn't it?" she asked wryly.

Martha smiled. Seeing Brenn smile seemed to delight Martha in some way and she nods eagerly. "I dare say, miss, that you are correct! I suspect my old habits die hard! If you would care to select a meeting chamber, miss...I shall be along presently to join you! I shall bring you bedding, miss! Three knocks shall announce me!" she adds, all smiles and clearly excited at this whole idea. "If I am longer than 15 minutes...please come and find me...I intend to be in my chamber...do please make yourself at home till then! Unless...unless you wish to accompany me there...?" she asks, suddenly bashful.

"Accompany you there? Well, the choice is entirely up to you," the Haunt replied slowly, clearly somewhat confused. "I would be glad to lend a hand and carry the bedding, so that you wouldn't have to run around to accommodate my needs, but the bedding is also not really necessary. As soon as the sun rises it won't matter if I have blankets or not, but I don't want to insult your hospitality."

Martha pauses. There wasn't much time left in the evening and Brenn was right. Martha nodded. Her retention of the old habits of bedding and bed seemed suddenly useless in the face of Brenn's practical sense. Martha laughed happily. "Ah, very well, miss. You are both practical and right, of course. Without the need for bedding and bed our task is made so much easier! Please, miss...follow me...we can use the couch and floor in the Keeper's Chamber. It shall be comfortable and safe enough for our needs, I trust. I insist you make the use of the couch!" smiling, she begins to limp over to the Keeper's Chamber. Her leg is more dragged than walked. Looking back to see if Brenn is following.

If Brenn follows, Martha opens the Keeper's Chamber. It is as before: decorated with two prints. A modern, if large, photo of a ballerina in a tutu holding a ballet pose against a dark background and a large framed copy of John Waterhouse's 'Lady of Shalot.'

A tall Chinese screen is erected in one corner of the room which conceals that part of her chamber. Two fire extinguishers now, a desk which is piled high with neatly stacked notes, books and school style notebooks. All look well used. The two book cases, both half full with pre-owned books. There's a cheap looking laptop and printer too. A few chairs and a couch. A coat rack and a seat opposite her busy looking desk..on the desk is a e-book reader and Brenn's own book of poems rests near it. The chamber has a strong aroma of lavender.

Martha gestures for Brenn to sit upon the couch with a gentle hand gesture and sneaks a glance to Brenn's legs before smiling to Brenn again. "Please sit, miss! Be at home!" Martha takes off her blazer and hat, hanging them both neatly on the coat rack. This act exposes her pinnafore gymslip and the whiteness of her blouse beneath. With some difficulty, Martha sits in the chair nearest the couch. Her leg stiff as she sits, Martha busies herself briefly brushing out creases from her dress before smiling, watching Brenn with sincere excitement and eageress. Clearly delighted to have Brenn here. "This is a treat, miss...to have your company tonight!"

Brenn followed behind the keeper, adjusting her clomping gait to a much slower trundle, murmuring a thank you along the way. The Haunt surveyed the room with a curious eye, her gaze dwelling briefly on the prints before her settling firmly on something on the Heralds desk. Brenn went absolutely rigid, her eyes narrowed theatrically, and with a gravid gesture somehow akin to a judge striking their gavel, she cast forth her hand and made the sign of the horns, her little finger and index finger pointed undeniably at Martha's e-book reader.

"In the name of Ray Bradbury and General Ned Ludd, I condemn thee," she spouted, before shooting Martha an odd smile and moving to take a seat. "Thank you, very much, Herald Villiers, I feel very fortunate to be able to talk your ear off for evening. How have you fared? If you've had to frequently deal with problems like the argument that happened tonight, you have my sympathies."

Martha watches, somewhat perplexed, at Brenn's exorcism of the e-reader...she thought she caught the references...she guessed Farenheit 451...and the Luddite's of course...her mind wandered briefly to cross dressing as a result...Brenn's mention of the argument brought her mind back to reality with a theatrical shrug. "Thank you, miss. Thank you for answering the call to the Avalon tonight too! Most gratifying to see you! You contribute so much, miss! Thank you!" a genuine smile, again, she does not flinch from Brenn's deformity, nor does she pay undue attention to it. "The talk tonight was disquieting...though, I hope we can all meet with renewed vigour soon enough. There is tough work ahead...and I have a Nemesis to avoid, if possible!" she offers. Not wishing to linger too much on a difficult evening. "Having said that, miss, until tonight I have fared mostly quite well, thank you for asking! I hope you have too!" a genuine smile is offered, Martha allows her hand to rub at her stiff knee as she sits watching Brenn. "I should very much wish to listen and converse with you on topics that occupy your thoughts, miss!" she offers. "Though, can I make you, in anyway, more at comfort?" she asks, eyeing the couch. Her concern and interest seem sincere.

"No, no, I'm fine," Brenn replied, waving away the offer of further accommodation. "I'm just glad that, unless I am completely misreading this situation, that I can speak with someone who might actually be a friend. Which brings me back to something that you said. What do you mean about having a Nemesis?" the Haunt asked, leaning forward suddenly. "I don't want to butt in, but if someone has it out for you, then I want to help you. As a friend."

Martha smiles, obviously genuinely moved at the notion of Brenn as a friend. "Ohh...thank you, miss! Oh...Nemesis only in so far as the mysterious vision Miss Zhong had...the idea that Miss Brown...Mr Connery and I may perish..." her cheery smile falters a moment..."in flames in the up coming investigation and confrontation with The Brides..." she now rubs very hard at her stiff leg, moving from knee to thigh to crippled hip. "Goodness! Your friendship, miss! Thank you! I would prize that very highly indeed, thank you!" she looks to Brenn with wide and sincere eyes, her tone is clearly impressed by the offer.

Martha wanted to leap from her seat and embrace Brenn at this...she moved uneasily in her seat, as if preparing herself for the action, but was fearful that Brenn may be embarrased by the act and hesitated a second...trying to gauge if Brenn would be appalled or embarrased at such a display.

"Um, do you want me to...get something for you?" the Haunt asked, completely mistaking Martha's intent for a desire to get out of the chair. Brenn leaned forward, preparing to get up, but otherwise her body remained as still as a pitted iron cast, completely devoid of the little ticks and flutters that those with a beating heart possessed.

Martha smiled warmly, shaking her head in delight at Brenn's offer. "Oh...you are kind! What a splendid lady you are!" she enthuses, all wide eyed. "No, no thank you, miss." she settles in her seat. Deciding against an overt display of joy for the moment, but is no less eager.

Settling back in her seat, she gestures again to Brenn, her busy hands gesturing as if to invite conversation, sneaking a look to Brenn's legs a moment before beginning again with a happy tone. "Ah...it has been a busy day! I have enjoyed your book, miss! Have you written any more poems recently?" she asks, clearly eager to listen, her attentions fully on Brenn's eyes now.

"I...haven't, no," the Haunt said slowly, slumping back into the couch. "I'm glad you liked them, though, and, honestly, I am very, very glad that you...well, think highly of me," she continued, a a creep of emotion slipping into her voice. "Which, honestly, I'm not quite sure how to react to, just because it's literally the opposite of what most people seem to think. I mean, it seems like its been years since I've actually had a conversation with someone; a conversation that's not ruled by the constant shift and relation of power and advantage which is so rife in our society, that is. There's just so much shit out there that I think I can finally understand why eventually we will all go insane...There's only so long the stalwart monolith can stand against sea, and even while it rises valiantly above the waves, the constant tumult at its base eats away at it, tearing pieces away, molecule by molecule until it fractures under it's own weight."

Martha watches Brenn with a sadness of caring about her. Hearing all this seems to fill Martha with a dismay. Brenn always seemed so strong. To hear her plight now, well....tiny Martha struggles from her chair and heavily limps over to sit next to Brenn, not too close, nor invasive: but close enough to let Brenn know that she's showing a willingness to care and listen. Martha doesn't seem to care now about whether her leg sticks out (which it does) or whether her gymslip is neat. She offers no trite moral reposte about bending willows and strong oaks. No. Those are as obvious to Brenn as they are Martha. Instead, Martha just seems to care to show Brenn moral and physical support, to offer her... "Oh, miss! Here...in this room...with me know...you need not worry about the tumult. Let this room be an oasis for you." she nods. "A refuge." she seems sincere, her gentle attentions on Brenn.

"Well...thank you, again, but let's not make this about me and my bitching. I know for a fact you've already had to put up with more than your share of annoying neonates tonight," Brenn countered, marshalling her composure around a bit of humor. It wouldn't do to whine and moan and show weakness. If nothing else, her time here had proven that it truly was Dog eat Dog out there, and it would just be suicidal to bare her metaphorical throat. Especially in this supposed oasis...She wouldn't cast off Martha's kindness, a kindness that might not be kindness, but Brenn wouldn't let her guard down, either.

"But," she said suddenly, "there is actually something that I've been meaning to ask you: Does there exist a Regency beneath the city? Is there a Necropolis that the Prince has sanctioned?"

Martha's dismay was obvious. She did want it to be about Brenn. She looked to her stiff leg and rubbed hard at it where her thigh meets the socket, though that is concealed by her uniform. Tiny Martha looks to Brenn with some sadness. "But...I did want this to be about you, miss...I wish you to unburden. I can carry the load of a friend..." she offered, and gave some thought to the matter of the Undercity. "The Necropolis? I have heard of it, of course. I shall make an inquiry on your behalf, miss..." she sighs a moment as she rubs at her thigh, looking to Brenn's eyes with a caring expression. "Why, miss? Did you wish to live down there?" an honest question.

"Not unless I have to," Brenn replied, a smirk twisting her upper lip in twain. "No, the reason I asked is this: according to a Kindred that goes by Lord Culler, the sewers beneath the city, the necropolis, have been recognized as a Regency, and according to Culler's claims, the Prince made him the lord of the necropolis, granting him the full Regency. This claim was one of the main things that stopped an active investigation that the entirety of my clan, along with Deputy Greyson, was on and I thought that it was horribly odd that the Deputy didn't know such a Regency existed. My clan doesn't seem to care about the Necropolis, but I want to know what the deal with it is, and thus I thought I could ask you about it, Herald Villiers. If Culler is lying, then this is fortunate for me; if not, then it is fortunate for the Domain. Either way, the question should be asked."

Martha watches Brenn with obvious attentive care. No matter how gruesome Brenn may feel her deformity is, Martha meets Brenn's smile with an honest and gentle smile of her own. Her attentions only wander to study Brenn's knees, then back, with the same wide eyed look of care, to Brenn.

"It is odd that we do not know of this. There must be an explanation. I shall look into this matter, miss!" she offer Brenn with another smile. "No investigation should be stalled if it is at Royal command. The interferrence of such would be viewed with dismay." sneaks another look to Brenn's legs, this time her thighs, before looking to add, "I shall ask and report back to you, Miss!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Villiers," Brenn said, nodding at the cheerful Herald. "That would put me at ease...Also, do you mind if I don't add in your title, just for the moment?"

Martha nods and smiles happily. "Oh, of course, miss! Please call me Martha if you wish!"

"Oooh. A first name, then. Please feel free to call me Brenn, as well, Martha. I vastly prefer first names, but I know that for some reason, most people consider it rude to use it. Almost as if an even greater distance is needed between two acquaintances or colleagues."

Martha nods and smiles. "Quite so, Brenn!" she smiles, delighting in using the name. "For my own part, when I was younger, first names were reserved for only the most intimate of relationships! Indeed...often even husband and wife would resist using first names when in public...and some just as often in private! Imagine! That we erect these barriers to contact is in no way proof that we think less of anyone for a more formal mode of address." a happy smile. "Rather, to some, it signifies greater respect. The First Estate, for example, well....I need not labour the point!" a happy giggle. "When we are beyond these doors my title would suit well, when in here, Brenn...please do feel free to call me Martha!" she offers with more than a touch of a glee in her tone. As if, by way of example, using the first name is a great thrill to her. Martha eases her hand on her crippled hip and upper thigh, as if rubbing at a pain that lingers. But she smiles to Brenn with obvious glee. "The dawn will steal upon us soon, I dare say! While chance offers itself, Brenn, did you have other matters which you wished to talk upon?" she asks with obvious delight. Careful to pay close and sincere attention to Brenn.

"Your cultural observations are true, indeed, but I personally find them to be strange and, perhaps, unnecessary. Still though...when in Rome," Brenn replied with a shrug. "Um, but no, there's nothing else that's on my mind. What of you, Martha? Is there anything that you wish to discuss before we die again?"

Martha smiles and nods. "There is much I wish to talk with you upon, Brenn! A great deal. But, if I can evade the prophecy outlined by Miss Zhong, I hope there will be many nights yet to talk with you. I shall offer though, miss, that...please do not hesitate to come to talk with me on anything you wish. My door is always open to you, Brenn." a shy smile. Martha sits back on the couch, smiling modestly at Brenn as she lets her body settle into something like a comfortable position for imminent rest.

"I'll be sure to take you up on that, Martha," the Haunt replied, a grin splitting her lip once again. "The reverse of that offer is always open for you as well."

Clearly delighted at this, she meets Brenn's smile unflinchingly with a happy one of her own and settles down to die once more, settles closer to Breen and, smiling, there's a gentle, sincere, "Thank you, Brenn." on her lips.