As soon as footsteps approach, Gideon's eyes flicker open from what - at best - can be described as fitful drifting at the borders of consciousness. Every muscle in her body seems to ache inordinately, strain pulled tight around her shoulders, but she still manages to bear her teeth at the skittish guards as they swiftly back away from her. An impotent threat, but she'll seize her small satisfactions where she can find them.
Lenore shows no such signs of fear as she steps into her cell, as she goes so far to lock it again behind her. Gideon arches a brow quite pointedly, but says nothing aloud of the vampire's quiet confidence. For now she stays silent - hard as it is for her to fight back the urge to run her mouth - and watches as Lenore places the various items before her with an obvious deliberateness. Curls of steam rise up from the buckets and let her know there'll be no frigid shock this time, and the smell of the stew has her insides twisting hard in continued, desperate need. It's clear enough what's being said without words here; refrain from violence and she'll be given more of what she so furiously requires.
She does think about it. Considers reaching for the pale and slender stem of Lenore's throat, tries to calculate the likelihood that she'll be swift enough to squeeze, whether she has the strength in her to snap it. Maybe it'd be worth it even if she can only get one good, clean hit in-- but ultimately decides against it. Better to give this a little more time, wait until she has a stronger advantage. So instead, once the cuff is removed she very slowly lowers her arm, rolls her shoulder in its socket. Battles hard to keep her face steely and indifferent even as pain shoots hard through muscles forced into one position for far too long. She just about manages it, aside from a slight tension around the mouth, a brightening of her eyes. Then she fixes her gaze on Lenore's face and waits to see what she'll do next.
no subject
Lenore shows no such signs of fear as she steps into her cell, as she goes so far to lock it again behind her. Gideon arches a brow quite pointedly, but says nothing aloud of the vampire's quiet confidence. For now she stays silent - hard as it is for her to fight back the urge to run her mouth - and watches as Lenore places the various items before her with an obvious deliberateness. Curls of steam rise up from the buckets and let her know there'll be no frigid shock this time, and the smell of the stew has her insides twisting hard in continued, desperate need. It's clear enough what's being said without words here; refrain from violence and she'll be given more of what she so furiously requires.
She does think about it. Considers reaching for the pale and slender stem of Lenore's throat, tries to calculate the likelihood that she'll be swift enough to squeeze, whether she has the strength in her to snap it. Maybe it'd be worth it even if she can only get one good, clean hit in-- but ultimately decides against it. Better to give this a little more time, wait until she has a stronger advantage. So instead, once the cuff is removed she very slowly lowers her arm, rolls her shoulder in its socket. Battles hard to keep her face steely and indifferent even as pain shoots hard through muscles forced into one position for far too long. She just about manages it, aside from a slight tension around the mouth, a brightening of her eyes. Then she fixes her gaze on Lenore's face and waits to see what she'll do next.