Basement Investigation || karnsteiins

Well, she had been expecting that response. Laura watched as Carmilla tossed her bag onto her bed and then proceeded to lay down on the bed. Laura stood up, briefly looked over the half page of excuses she had listed out during the day, and looked back over at her roommate.

"Oh c’mon, Carmilla. This basement could be holding all the information we need to figure out what the Dean is doing to these girls. Aren’t you even a little bit interested?"

Was that her pillow on Carmilla’s bed again?

"This place could also have other super secret information," Laura continued. "What if there’s something about how to beat the Dean? You can’t tell me you aren’t interested in that.”

Ugh, her excuses weren’t working. Why did her roommate have to be so stubborn all the time?

"Fine," Laura let out a defeated sigh. She turned and dug around on her side of the room for a few minutes. She later found her big wooden spoon and turned back around towards her Carmilla. "I guess I’m going alone." With that she headed for the door.

Beneath the pillow covering her lustrous mane, Laura's tingling voice shrunk to an ambient brouhaha. Her own breathing resounded loudly in the concise space, that until she swiftly shifted her head to the side, her cheek smoothing against the fresh sheet way too pleasantly, yet a bit too closely. Laura's squeaky chair quacked forward and rolled back in a low struggle thus the elevation of hushed arguments continued. As much as she tried avoiding her envies, she couldn't just let her go down all by herself. Bad... things might happen.

Carmilla had observed how deprecated by agitation was the overly invested investigator. She had a fragility about it, even though she kept targeting the little peace she'd thought earned and making sure to hold it down underwater ( much cruelly so, Laura was cruel ).

However, the resistance, or more so the detachment that often facilitated achieving her part of her mother's business was absent. She would not identify it as guilt or hope, perhaps just a presage that a difference would hustle the current of centuries she'd spent under the same quite acceptable fate. Cruel Laura would get her out. Maybe, perhaps the weird feeling announced more pain, though. She wasn't completely impervious to it.

For a sentiment announcing abrupt changes, she had barely noticed it, anyway. And in one movement, she slipped noiselessly to the floor, latching afar to the quirky steps headed to the basement. 

Vampires had pride, and the tiny one would never know she'd tagged along unless she required the help. After all, wasn't this her sole purpose in this entire fuck up from her part? Protecting one that wouldn't let herself be? She'd clearly said she despised this habit of her peers. She wasn't protecting her, she was compensating for that fact that Laura couldn't do it herself. Not in such hazardous situation.

She couldn't just let her die, she just--- there was no reasonable thought attached to that feeling, meandering around her neck and threatening to choke her if she didn't prevent her loss.

Laura was a bit like Elle. Tactless, non-gentle. Loud, depraved. Reckless. Nosy and also piercing like a cold arrow through her, leaving an after taste of...

She trailed off, shutting the door behind her as she entered the place and made one with a damp corner. Her sleepy eyes followed her roommate attentively, and she stopped the whole fake breathing thing.

Nothing abnormal, this was incredibly worrying for one that seemed to be so attractive to anything trouble. Including herself.