[Sometimes the necromancer leaves her alone. She's certain that there are all manner of trigger and trap spells woven around this room, even if she could facilitate an escape with the manacle around her ankle that's keeping her tethered over the sigil, so she doesn't bother with notions of working herself free somehow and trying to run. No, the strength of the Speakers is always in numbers, and it's the same for the three of them. The instant she starts thinking she's alone, she's done for, and so she makes sure never to forget.
Her captivity leaves her plenty of time to think, and as she does, she tries to predict what Trevor and Alucard will be doing. One is considerably easier than the other; Alucard will be fretting himself sick, and she can't hardly blame him. It's far, far too close to what had happened to his mother, and in the very morgue where she'd been seen to, besides.
But Trevor — Trevor has his map, his runes. They'd talked about it before, how to find people. How to track the Speakers, how to track the spread of a story. Trevor, she thinks, will be trying to find her. The magic-swallowing sigil will make it difficult, but —
...But it's wood carved into a floor. Just floorboards, deep down. And maybe she can't do much, but...
The links of the chain holding her are made of steel. Certainly more durable than wood. Not nearly enough of an edge to be ideal, but better than nothing.
And so, in the time she has to spare when she's alone, she shifts and finds a segment of the circle that's easy to hide from view, and sets the rounded edge of the chain to it and starts to rub. If she can cut a groove in it, even the smallest groove, then maybe it'll upset the circle's function just enough for something, anything, to get through.]
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Her captivity leaves her plenty of time to think, and as she does, she tries to predict what Trevor and Alucard will be doing. One is considerably easier than the other; Alucard will be fretting himself sick, and she can't hardly blame him. It's far, far too close to what had happened to his mother, and in the very morgue where she'd been seen to, besides.
But Trevor — Trevor has his map, his runes. They'd talked about it before, how to find people. How to track the Speakers, how to track the spread of a story. Trevor, she thinks, will be trying to find her. The magic-swallowing sigil will make it difficult, but —
...But it's wood carved into a floor. Just floorboards, deep down. And maybe she can't do much, but...
The links of the chain holding her are made of steel. Certainly more durable than wood. Not nearly enough of an edge to be ideal, but better than nothing.
And so, in the time she has to spare when she's alone, she shifts and finds a segment of the circle that's easy to hide from view, and sets the rounded edge of the chain to it and starts to rub. If she can cut a groove in it, even the smallest groove, then maybe it'll upset the circle's function just enough for something, anything, to get through.]