It will be at least ten years before you can beat me

❝ ▋▍@themarchionesss

             ❛ —- In other words, you are requesting                for me to host a party?❜

  ❝  Yes, that is what i’m asking. Elizabeth has been looking forward towards it, but I must be away for business. I do hope it’s not too much to ask. ❞

      ❝ How long have you been working with horses again? ❞

                                                             {♔}

    When Elizabeth had imagined, when she was younger and her curiosity had gotten the best of her, that when she died, she would travel up to Heaven. She had believed from a very young age, that if she was a good girl and continued to be so until the day she took her very last breath, that that was where she would end up. Up in the skies with the creator of the universe, living a happily ever after with all of her family. If only she’d knew what card life would have dealt her, she sure would’ve done better with her thoughts than had carelessly dreamed all that time.

    In her earnest opinion, she’d believed she’d gotten the short end of the stick. Rather than earning her ticket up to Heaven, or her punishment in Hell, the noble had been instead placed in a world that the human race had no idea, becoming a creature that you thought had only been in fairy tales, coming to people who were ready to die and dragging them to their destination; wherever that had been. And though she’s new at this horrible job of hers, she knows things won’t get much worse. Especially when she gets to go out by herself.

    Years had come to pass by, and with that, she’d quickly rose up into the fame of being good at her job. And though she’s gotten so busy that she has just enough time at night to get a few hours worth of sleep, she still finds herself doing her weekly routine; visiting the Midford manor, to check up on everyone-her mother especially.

    Tonight had been a particularly sad night for Elizabeth. Not only did it mark the eighth year anniversary of her death, but the more that the reaper peaked in at her sleeping mother from the tree that sat outside the window, the more Elizabeth could see how her mother was starting to grow older. And just the thought of that made her want to weep.

    “Oh mother,” she started off once she saw Francis wake up, a sigh coursing her lips as she leaned closer towards the window to get a better look at her mother; praying she was out of sight enough so that the woman couldn’t see her. “Stop growing so old, yes? You’re supposed to last forever…you’re not ever supposed to leave this earth…remember? How dare you grow old in my presence…”

    Life is something that will never stop, no matter how much one would try. There is only so many steps one can take before their feet begin to hurt. Only so many words they can speak before their voice gives out. Only so much food someone can eat before they start to feel sick. When you look at it life is filled with so many limits. Should death be any different? 

    The aging woman felt an uneasy chill climb up her back, her gaze shifted to the window. Ghosts and the undead never really bothered her before. Well that was before a fateful night on the open seas. Even so, the thought of someone watching her didn’t occur to her. Had she left the window open that night?

    The book was placed back in it’s rightful drawer along with a pair of glasses. A frown crossed her face, there was a reason why Francis wasn’t fond of colder weather. Wood creaked under foot as she crossed the room over to the dresser. She was up, no point in avoiding the unavoidable.  Plus, she’d freeze if the window was actually unlocked.

   Not today, Francis couldn’t just stay at home and read. Her gaze softened, catching the gimps of a picture besides the wardrobe.

“No, I think I would not. They are so awfully proud of their dormitories that I simply would not have the heart to ruin it for them.

     ❝ I would have to agree, as if my husband isn’t an example of that himself. As for myself, I don’t there isn’t anything I would change. Perhaps leave it up to students.  ❞

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                                               ___ . { 👑 } . ___

◤♛ ⋮ ——   “No, no, he just had a little DISAGREEMENT with someone from my house in the dining hall this morning and they both yelled a lot, but I’m sure they’ve made up by now!”

Whether or not the friendship(?) had been mended may not have been her primary concern, but he’d interpreted the inquiry in the only way he knew how  as they made their way towards the library.

                “Hmm… but only being remembered as someone who was never tardy and never slurped their tea is too boring, isn’t it?? I’d want to be known for something SPECIAL !  Like coming up with some incredible invention, or being able to speak every language in the world!!”

      ❝  An argument? I guess that’s what should be expected when you put several young men in a room together. ❞

      That didn’t mean Francis wasn’t disappointed with her son’s actions, he should have known better. Then again there was no point in being upset over something so petty. Most likely no one would remember it by next week anyway.

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"Can I buy you a drink?"

"I've heard a lot about you"

"Welcome to _____ "

"Can I take your order?"

" _____, you're under arrest"

"Looks like we're room-mates"

"IT Support, how can I help you?"

"Do you know the bride or the groom?"

"Hi, I just moved in next-door"

"Excuse me, is this your dog?"

"Help, please! Somebody help me!"

"I guess I'm your new partner"

 In Depth Headcanon Prompts;

  No human body is perfect as much as some people might want you to believe. During her younger years Francis tended to be more of a modern tomboy. Enjoying her time exploring the woods, getting messy and causing the maids to fuss about her looks. She has no regrets about her time messing around, but does feel uncomfortable about several scars on her body. 

   Most of them are small, little nicks and cuts on her arms and lower legs. It’s one of the reasons why she wears longer clothing and gloves most of the time. Since she holds herself in such high regard, If another were to see them, she believes others might see her as weak. If she was vulnerable, what kind of chance do they have in this cruel world?