It was a week night near the turn of the year. Above, the kine drank and danced with an energised hum, as if they were already anticipating the festivities to come. Outside, the downtown city was a churning mass of late night shoppers as the herd succumbed to the clarion call of crass commercialism; greed and need; joy and excitement.
The Elysian Field was devoid of life. The presence of Martha was almost gone - no more scent of lemonade or lavender. The mint that remained was a faded afterglow almost completely faded. And Hildegarde did not feel the presence of another of her kind. She was totally alone and her Beast had roused itself, crawled up from her spine and had extended itself, gingerly, onto the top of her head. Longfingerspseudopodia caressed and massaged her scalp. It was a new experience and may have been why the Lord was smiling to herself.
Tonight the Whip of the Lords was sitting on a sofa quite naturally. No poses. She was too busymasteringwrestling with her new toy. Iago had "upgraded" her to a new smartphone. This one granted her access to the "internet" and had a whole host of other features. Which was a pity as he had failed to fully explain their purpose before handing the device over. Maybe... just maybe... her enigmatic attendant had a sense of humour.
If anyone else slipped into Elysium tonight they'd catch sight of a Lord prodding an expensive electronic device with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.
She hadn't screamed yet or thrown a tantrum. But who knew what could trigger a rage in the doll faced Whip of the Lords?