She should have felt inclined to go to the debate, but in Adrienne’s mind she didn’t get much of a say in votes so at least the first debate was of little matter to her. Despite this, she’d still gone into London with Olympe, feeling the need to see the city bustling around her as opposed to the small village. Arriving in the city was much the same, and she headed through Diagon Alley first before making her way towards the Crowdy Memorial Library. Feeling uplifted by her new purchases, Adrienne was now grappling with potentially changing her mind about attending the debate. It wouldn’t hurt to peek in for just a little while, would it?
Deciding to turn back around from their position close to the river, Adrienne and her maid began their way towards the debate hall. It was halfway there that the sky was suddenly filled with screams. At first the witch thought nothing of it; there were plenty street performers that sought the crowd’s attention through fear, and she’d already had her fill of those today. The small gasp from Olympe was what caused her head to turn, only milliseconds before she heard the roars from dragons up above. The sky erupted in flames, and Adrienne seized Olympe’s arm to tug her towards shelter. It was only after she heard Olympe’s shout and felt the cold water on her leg that she realized her skirt had caught fire. Quickly dismissing whatever might have happened, Adrienne bustled inside a nearby shop with a crowd of people.
Panting from the quick dash to the store, she joined multiple people in catching their breaths. Her hand found cool glass and she turned to lean her forehead against it, muttering dark oaths in French. She’d been halfway through cursing whomever thought bringing Dragons to London was a good idea when an English-accented voice reached her. She looked up, blinking. “I think so. And yourself?” Except then she shifted her weight to see if the gentleman was alright, only to have her knee practically buckle underneath her. Olympe's gasp drew her attention next, and she grew pale at the sight of her leg through the burnt section of her dress where the flesh was now marred as if it was starting to melt.
Deciding to turn back around from their position close to the river, Adrienne and her maid began their way towards the debate hall. It was halfway there that the sky was suddenly filled with screams. At first the witch thought nothing of it; there were plenty street performers that sought the crowd’s attention through fear, and she’d already had her fill of those today. The small gasp from Olympe was what caused her head to turn, only milliseconds before she heard the roars from dragons up above. The sky erupted in flames, and Adrienne seized Olympe’s arm to tug her towards shelter. It was only after she heard Olympe’s shout and felt the cold water on her leg that she realized her skirt had caught fire. Quickly dismissing whatever might have happened, Adrienne bustled inside a nearby shop with a crowd of people.
Panting from the quick dash to the store, she joined multiple people in catching their breaths. Her hand found cool glass and she turned to lean her forehead against it, muttering dark oaths in French. She’d been halfway through cursing whomever thought bringing Dragons to London was a good idea when an English-accented voice reached her. She looked up, blinking. “I think so. And yourself?” Except then she shifted her weight to see if the gentleman was alright, only to have her knee practically buckle underneath her. Olympe's gasp drew her attention next, and she grew pale at the sight of her leg through the burnt section of her dress where the flesh was now marred as if it was starting to melt.
![[Image: VIzcNLA.png]](https://i.imgur.com/VIzcNLA.png)