Fuel to Fire - Printable Version
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Fuel to Fire - Ursula Black - November 4, 2025
November 5th, 1895 — Rigel Hall, Cumbria
Ella!
Elladoraaaa! Ursula waited impatiently for her sister-in-law to appear, draping herself unnecessarily over the banister of the staircase.
Elladora! She huffed irritably and pulled away from the banister, scowling to herself. She had thought the acoustics of the large hall would carry her voice to whichever downstairs room she assumed the woman was hiding in but apparently not - or else she was being ignored. With another huff, she stalked off towards Elladora's room supposing she might be in there.
She had wanted to dramatically pose at the top of the grand staircase for the start of this conversation but Ella was clealy intent on ruining her fun. So instead Ursula decided her sister-in-law wasn't owed a courtesy knock before she flung open the witch's bedroom door. Elladora! she neglected to lower her volume for the change of room as much as she should have and even managed to startle herself a little. Oh, you are here. Ursula exhaled heavily and then swept fully into the room, coming to stop in front of the nearest mirror. It's just arrived, what do you think? It's rather modern, isn't it? She smoothed the skirts of her new dress and turned a little to get a better view of her behind. After a couple seconds she finally tore her eyes away from the mirror to make sure Elladora was looking at her.
Outfit | Tag: Elladora Black | Notes:
RE: Fuel to Fire - Elladora Black - November 24, 2025
Ignoring Ursula was a dangerous thing most of the time, but Ella had been willing to risk a sulk for the sake of finishing her page. She was half-way through a thought, a mere whisper away from putting to parchment the specific taxidermical method for stretching elf-skin without it tearing – they were a flimsy race, she had discovered – and the interruption was not welcome. (Truthfully, she was amazed it had not come earlier.)
Sighing she lowered her quill and turned in her seat to observe her sister-in-law. The dress was indeed rather modern, though nowhere near some of the monstrosities she had seen displayed in London of late, and, quite inevitably, it became Ursula wonderfully. Most styles did, alas.
Elladora quirked her lip, making a meal of assessing the dress and the woman inside it.
“It seems rather snug about the waist,” she drawled, eying Ursula around the middle and observing privately that any tighter and the dress might be considered indecent, outlining as it did everything from Ursula’s hips upwards. “Though I daresay that is the intention. Where did it come from?”