1.

A carry-over from mortal life, the stiff, blonde woman still got head aches. Often they escalated to such intensity that the only way to seek relief was to turn the lights off and shut herself in the bathroom.

Not that it was anything new for her, but Therese was agitated, although she couldn't figure out why.

She rubbed her temples, another reflex carried over from sunlight days. Being that her body was still quite dead, massage or the like did no real good. Only willing her sludgy, eldritch blood to seek out the source of the throbbing pain would eliminate it.

"Oh, I'm just overwhelmed. As usual..."

Yes, that was it. She was stressed. That was why she felt so out of sorts. And with all the chaos that had ensued in the last few days, why wouldn't she be?

Moths fluttered outside her window. She thought they were disgusting creatures, and stupid as well. In her opinion, these little insects resembled the mortal masses. Blindly throwing themselves toward oblivion, completely unwilling to learn from their mistakes, vulgar in appearance and short lived.

Jeanette cooed over the moths. She identified them as "my little friends."

Therese wanted to kill them all with the bug spray she kept nearby in case another roach infestation manifested in her bathroom(which had been looking quite dingy as of late, if you asked her). But Jeanette would throw a bitch fit and cry and make her out to be a cold, heartless bitch, so the sharply dressed woman conceded to let them carry on their frenzied, aimless existence.

Not such a big deal, she supposed. They're just little insects. But why do they bother me so?

"Shit."

Covering her mouth, the self consciousness that had been engendered within her by father, by her schoolteacher; it dissaproved of any cursing. She made a mental note to watch her mouth. Nasty words were for nasty people, after all. No need to make mention of excrement when one was perturbed.

"LaCroix Foundation" popped up on caller id. But to her disappointment and, curiously, her relief, the number was not the new prince's but some representative's.

"Therese Voerhman speaking."

"Yes, Ms. Voerhman, I hope you're well. This is Sascha speaking. Hopefully you remember me from when we last spoke, yes?"

"Thank you, yes, of course I remember speaking with you last Thursday night."

"Wonderful. Ms. Voerhman, I'm calling on behalf of Mr. LaCroix. He wanted to inform you that the meeting that had been scheduled between the two of you on Friday the 23rd at 9:30 PM must be canceled. He gives his apologies."

"Very well, thank you for informing me of this well in advance, Sascha. Give my regards to the Prince."

"You're welcome Ms. Voerhman. Have good night."

"Good night, Sascha."

This was the second time he had canceled. How the hell was she supposed to get anything done if the Prince wouldn't even conduct a brief meeting with her?

Collapsing into her favorite teak chair, she felt on this verge of tears. Did he not take her seriously? What could she have possibly done to put him off so?

"Jeanette..."

Of course her sister's reckless behavior didn't help merely by association. They both ran the club and they both played an influential part in the Santa Monica scene. As baron of a relatively quiet, desolate city, surely her inability to even hold the reins on her own sister would detract from her standing on a professional level.

Father watched over her from above, as always. Or he "loomed" over her, as Jeanette would quip. But Therese felt his sombre gaze to be a comfort. When Jeanette suggest that the painting be replaced with "something more cheerful", Therese struck her in explosion of temper. This sort of behavior was out of place for Therese, and it shocked her. Thereafter for at least a week, her sister refused to speak.

"Oh father, Jeanette ruins everything for me! They say that we carry an ancient curse in our veins, but I believe that it pales in comparison to the plague I call my sister!"

Streaks of white impaired her vision. This always happened when the migraines got really bad.

This one is very painful...

"Ugh...I just need to calm down...need time to think about what I'm going to do.

Locking herself in the bathroom, she stripped off her clothes and lit a single candle in the dark.