In the cellar vault beneath the Avalon nightclub, far away from the press of dancing Mortals, the lights are low.
Down in the cellar vault of the Avalon, away from the sweaty press of people and the nightclubs' bright lights it is quieter.
A calm atmosphere prevails.
Recessed lamps cast a soft glow and the bright and rich scent of freshly made lemonade and squeezed lemons fills the air.
Tiny and sweet looking Martha sits on a couch within sight of The Stairs.
Martha is neatly attired in her usual modest English school uniform: a neat straw boater, a black blazer...a pair of scholarly spectacles are perched on the end of her nose, she wears a long gymslip which shows her legs to mid calf...her raven black hair is tied into two very long twin tails, each with the red ribbon bows.
A swift glance would reveal that most of her left leg is obviously a C-Leg prosthetic. She wears a white kneesock on her flesh leg and a pair of carefully polished black Oxford pattern shoes, a crisp white blouse is obvious where the Edwardian style gymslip reveals it, as is her red necktie tucked neatly into her gymslip. She wears a useful looking school satchel and a simple metal walking cane rests at her side. Though smelling of minty toothpaste and lemonade, she's shunned more obvious cosmetics for everything but bright red lipstick. The small creature is happily reading a copy of Hugo Young's "This Blessed Plot."
She emits no Beast but has shunned Blush of Life for the evening.
Her petite presence may seem almost palpably sweet and innocent.
Martha smiles to herself as looks up from her book to watch the Courtyard and keeps a careful eye on The Stairs...