The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: EroticWinged on 22-09-2010, 14:17:00</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>EroticWinged</strong> on <strong>22-09-2010, 14:17:00</strong>
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				Virginia Dare set the rather informal letter down atop the pile of other papers and letters, her usual morning reading.&nbsp; She raised her black-lace gloved hand to cover her pretty mouth as she thought.&nbsp; Washington Hale, her massive black manservant and majordomo stood off to the side, but he could see just how hard she pressed her hand to her lips.&nbsp; There were no other servants around and the butler was off haranguing the maids, no doubt.&nbsp; He pulled out the chair next to his mistress and sat with a fluidity and grace that belied his massive bulk. <br>&nbsp;<br>“Another invitation?” he asked, his voice as deep and gravelly as one would expect from such a giant.<br><br>She did not answer for a time.&nbsp; When her blue-gray eyes finally snapped up to lock into Hale’s bright brown eyes, she still did not release her grip on her jaw.&nbsp; Finally, after another long moment, she seemed to regain some composure and sat up straight.&nbsp; But before she spoke, she looked away from her oldest friend and stared out the windows at the bright, west Texas sunshine.<br><br>“Have you heard of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen?” she asked.<br><br>Hale arched a dark eyebrow and his large, flat nose flared at the wide nostrils.&nbsp; Normally, the implacable giant was not prone to even such minor displays of emotion.&nbsp; Of course he had heard of the League.&nbsp; He was aware of the Illuminati, the Knights Templar, the Masons, the Grimm Sidhe and at least a dozen other groups.&nbsp; He was more than a mere bodyguard, after all.&nbsp; He nodded gravely in response to Virginia’s question.<br><br>“And the Æther Knights?” she asked.<br><br>“Technically, they are ‘Her Majesty’s Royal Order of Psionic Knights’” he answered instantly, though quietly.&nbsp; “Another trap?” he added finally.<br><br>“Some one calling himself Mr. O and claiming to represent the League – unofficially, of course – warns that ‘Her Majesty’s Knights’” she said the name rather sarcastically, “have started another round of inquisitions and that the new consular knights arriving shortly in Washington have specific orders to interview me.”<br><br>Hale leaned forward and the little round table complained with a creak as he settled his elbows on it.&nbsp; “We have to move carefully,” he said needlessly.&nbsp; His mistress was nothing if not careful and deliberate.&nbsp; “They could be great allies, or…” he trailed off.&nbsp; He was not saying anything she did not already know.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>22-09-2010, 20:00:34</strong>
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				<strong>The Kane Country Estates, just outside of Sussex</strong><br><br>The coach ground to a halt in front of the brooding manor house as the footman dashed up to help the woman who stepped out. Who pointedly walked right past him without a word to him or the other staff who were waiting for her. She met the eyes of her agent as she walked towards the door and walked in. He turned to the staff and made a 'carry on' gesture before moving after her. <br><br>"Mr. Ashbridge, was I not clear in my message? I had no need to meet the staff." She turned and walked into the brooding library without missing a step. "I definitely don't like the fact that the two sons of Lord Hightower were waiting for me at the landing in London. He's wanted the estate for nearly twenty years Reginald. He, his kin, his solicitors, his BLOODY DOGS are not to allowed on the grounds. One of his whelps actually tried to kiss my hand. Any of his folk show up, they are to be run off my land immediate." She opened the hidden cabinet and poured herself three fingers of aged double malt before taking a seat behind the desk. She glowered at the man as she pulled several items from her person. A strange collection of items that included several pistols and a large knife. <br><br>"Well Lady Kane.." She cut him off quickly.<br><br>"Reginald, who do you work for?" She asked as she pulled a cigar out of another hidden drawer to his surprise. The instructions of what was stored where had been in place for decades, he and the head butler stocking the room themselves in case of the return of a Kane but how did she know where such things were? There hadn't been a Kane in residence in her lifetime.<br><br>"You m'lady."<br><br>"Then it's Selene or Miss Kane.&nbsp; I'm an unremitting Yankee. The only reason the gentry here will ever address me as 'Lady' Kane is in the hope of getting into my garters and gaining the keys to the family fortune." He blinked at the vitriolic tone of her voice and bluntness. This was more of a shock than the weaponry she carried about herself. He was used, through the tales of his father and the histories, to having members of the Family carrying weaponry. The Kane family were a discrete little secret in the Gentry, titled for 'acts of gallantry' but never cited for WHAT sort of acts. Quietly paid and made into nobility, they had done great works for Crown and Empire for centuries. Rumor had it that the scion of the line, Solomon Kane, had been a puritan who struck a deal with the returning monarchy in exchange for certain 'somethings'. The problem was the current Kane was an American. And a woman.&nbsp; He shuffled the cards in his hand as he mulled over how to remove the card from Lord Hightower, and the ones from the sons. <br><br>"Of course.. Miss Kane." He put the rest of the messages on her desk, sealed letters over cards and telegrams on bottom. "I honestly don't know how they found out, but I shall talk to the staff and put out that directive. I've contacted the .. persons you asked for. The 'gentleman' at Baker Street said he'd look for your man, I put out a few other discrete enquires to others of a similar ilk. All are known for their discretion. I hired a man to .. negotiate for access to the files at the Yard like you asked. At twice remove as well." He had handled the Kane business in England for years, and his father before him, and was used to doing things of.. dubious nature from time to time, but never had he thought he'd be telling the lady in front of him about them, much less such intense investigations for a scoundrel like Ephraim Waite. She nodded as she picked the cards and started shuffling though them.<br><br>"Good, I see that there are few ..events here I won't be able to avoid here." She said as she slit first one card or letter open after another with that massive knife. Tossing them into two piles before diving into the pile of telegraphs. "Did you get the list of who owns the books I sent you?" She asked without looking up as she pulled out a small notebook and made entries on the pages as she read each telegraph in turn.<br><br>"Yes Miss Kane. I put the list in your desk, in the upper right hand drawer." She pulled that list and ran a finger down the list, alternating between the list and one pile of cards as she looked.<br><br>"Ah, tell me.. is way to get into this estate?" She says as she pulls a card up for him to show the seal. <br><br>"I'll make discrete investigation into the possibly Miss." He said as she returned to the pile of correspondence that she had to work though. Clearly the chase for this Waite man would require her attention here for a time, then on to wherever. He bowed politely and withdrew, he had to send messages to the dozen men through the country looking for him along with agents on the continent and throughout the Empire looking for Ephraim Waite. He knew there were at least a dozen telegraphs to send to see if there was any sign meeting her criteria. He pulled the door closed behind him as he left. <br><br>Selene leaned back and sucked on her cigar angrily. She had been close in Rome and the evil man had only escaped by a single night. Of course the Monsignor hadn't survived the escape. Only with luck had she survived with a hint of what Waite was looking for now. A lost treatise by a German madman that MIGHT be in this or that indulgent lord's library. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Brittlby</strong> on <strong>22-09-2010, 20:37:42</strong>
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				<strong><br>Treni par Perigi Milano, Italy <br>Approaching the Outbound Train for Paris, then onwards to Calais.</strong><br><br><br><br>Marylebone loved the railways. <br><br>Sounds of steam caressed his senses, from the soft hiss as it escaped into the world to the bubbling murmur of boiling water, the birth cry of steam. The railways were a place of wonder for him. They seemed to reach deep into his soul and give him an affectionate squeeze, earnest but wanting like a naive lover. It was often all he needed to soothe himself, regardless of what was going on in his life.<br><br>But not today. <br><br>He woke this morning, believing himself to be part of a crucial mission. Glory and honor were in short supply behind his desk. His spirit hungered for the adventure that others indulged in, while he remained behind. This was a sacred task, one he had longed to be trusted with. Admittedly he was not human, but he had long strove to prove his loyalty to the Grand Designers. The eye in the pyramid could find no fault in the werewolf's behavior or loyalty, the restraints which he had placed himself under willingly, earning him a place as one of the most trusted agents in the field. But as the day wore on, Marylebone found he was less than pleased with his part to play in this adventure. It was in simplest terms, escorting Her and a package to a steam engine, then returning to his desk.<br><br>Her. <br><br>There was a certain tone that slipped into a person's voice when they were discussing "her". It made her namelessness seem less of an issue than one would expect, as everyone intuitively seemed to know when she was the point of conversation. They said she was mute, but Marylebone was almost certain she could speak just fine. She was just a bitch.<br><br>Marylebone glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as the buggy came to a jaunty stop a street down from the Milano Train Station. Stretched out and dozing, her long curls pillowed about behind her shoulders like a lion's mane, a misshapen hat cocked atop her head to keep out the sun as she slept. Her full lips were painted, her only feminine vanity, the stark shade of whorehouse red that promised so much without saying a word.<br><br>Despite her strange and unlikely upbringing, she was remarkably fastidious. It looked good on her, that obsessive attention to details. An awkward meticulousness that despite being a conscious fabrication, made her seem vulnerable yet tidy. Not to mention that she filled out her strange get up in a way that made Marylebone question the merits of non-fraternization between practitioners. Tall and gracefully crafted, she wedged herself into a tweed gentleman's suit. It wasn't the best quality, but then it was clean and she was quite set on keeping it so. <br><br>When she bothered to open them, her eyes were a cold hue of arctic blue, warmed by her vibrant red coral lips that were slightly turned up in a half hearted smile. Her hair was a bronze mane, while her pale flesh was left exposed by the dangerous neckline of her tweed coat. Her smile was a caricature of the real thing, but dazzling despite that, managing to shine a radiance of adoration upon those she chose to deign with her attention.<br><br>Yet he hated her. And even her animal magnetism didn't serve to alleviate how much he hated her. It just made him want to fuck her like he hated her. It was sour grapes talking, he knew that deep down. But it seemed unfair that she should be tasked with this, while he was stuck cataloguing.<br><br>About to wake her, his eyes fell on the envelope in her breast pocket. A small missive on good paper, he knew the waxen seal immediately, the eye in the pyramid staring back at him. Was that the package? Would it hurt if he peeked at it?<br><br>Certainly not. He was part of this after all. And if she wasn't a better warden of the document, than... well it would behoove the elders to know, wouldn't it? His breath caught for a moment, and he reached out gingerly to take the edge of the letter. Carefully he began to pull it, trying not to disturb her hankerchief. He fancied he could hear the rasp of the cardstock against her rough coat fabric, and he dared not breathe. Marylebone handled it as if it were nitroglycerin as he managed at last to remove the stiff parchment. <br><br>He let out a soft sigh, his thumb fumbling across the wax. His attention was diverted rudely by a shooting pain in his foot. Letting out a shrill yelp, he noted as he jerked his shoe away that her umbrella was wedged tip first against his laces. <br><br>With the innocent deadpan that was typical of the woman, she sat up, adjusting her malformed hat atop her head. Deftly she snatched the envelope from him, tucking it back in her pocket as she stared at him. Her expression was as glacial and impenetrable as her eyes, betraying little of her thoughts. <br><br>She had always been hard to read. She understood she had what was called a "poker face". She also understood it hardly mattered how expressive she was, because those with guilty consciences tended to see what they expected to see. <br><br>Marylebone growled, standing up delicately on his injured foot as he stepped off the buggy, "You will keep such accusatory glances under that cheap hat of yours. I am not jealous of the likes of you. I have had frequent opportunities of learning of your worth, and must candidly admit that I consider you to be entirely mismatched for this duty. You are scarcely my better, regardless of what they say. You got this far on... whatever the hell it is you do. But of what value do you think that will be in the thick of battle? Are you intent upon making the unseemly creatures of the dark giggle themselves to death?"<br><br>Her response was to simply follow him off the buggy, her shoes sending the dust flying as she leap down in a most unladylike fashion. Demurely she opened her umbrella against the sunlight, her free hand stretching out to retrieve her case from the back of the buggy. Wordlessly, she turned away from him and began the trek towards the depot. <br><br>Marylebone's job was done. He'd played his part in this already. But somehow that just wasn't good enough. When he'd been her superior, she hadn't seemed to take any of his wisdom to heart. This in some way felt like his last chance to put her in her place. He hobbled to catch up with her, the pain fading away slowly as his foot began to mend.<br><br>"You may be pleasant company, but by neither word nor deed have you ever encouraged trust amongst the Eye. It is a fine thing to be everyones bosom companion, but this is a war you have been born into. Warriors must trust each other with their very lives." She made no motion as if she were listening, simply walking along next to him, the ticket counter growing ever closer. As she reached into the breast pocket of her coat for her billfold, his hand came down on her shoulder. Spinning her about, heedless of onlookers, he hissed inches from her face, "Do give me the courtesy of some small sign you understand what I am saying to you."<br><br>This close with his inhuman senses he could smell her breakfast on her lips, coffee and quail eggs, yet couldn't divine a trace of fear in her sweat. Even her body language was mute today. His rage was gnawing at his innards, Marylebone's violent tendencies causing his teeth to grind audibly. At last she turned slightly and he caught something in her eye. It was a moment before he realized what she was doing, her case shifting in her grip slightly as she turned.<br><br>The hard lacquer case collided with his crotch, fireworks and red fury clouding his vision as he sank to his knees. He could feel his muscles twist and turn beneath the skin, his lips catching on his elongating teeth. It was the stare of the Ticket counter attendant as their eyes met and the humans paniced recoiled, that brought him to his senses. Regaining his composure by slow degrees, he shouted past the gate at her, "You filthy bitch whore. I hope they suck the god damned marrow out of your bones."<br><br>By way of a response, she hooked the handle of her umbrella around her arm, so she could lift her hat at him. Turning to leave, Marylebone noticed at his feet was the letter marked with the seal of the Illuminati. It had fallen out of her pocket when he had grabbed her. He stooped to recover it, about to call out after her, when he thought better of it. Hell with her. Maybe after his superiors learned of her carelessness, they would send him along behind her.<br><br>With a smirk, he cracked the waxen seal, unfolding the stiff parchment. His teeth clenched as he stared at the contents of the letter. In loving detail his face had been captured in stark brush strokes. He knew her odd penmanship well enough. She had made up a mock grievances poster proclaiming in bold letters, "Carente per la scopata del cavallo".<br><br>Tearing at the parchment, he swept his fingers beneath his chin, flipping her off, "Oi, I have had my fill of your slander, putana! I am NOT a horse fucker!" He had bit his lip, the blood filling his mouth lighting more ferocity within him as he watched her vanish. <br><br>+++<br><br>Marylebone was at best a bit part, and she knew this. He knew it as well in his heart of hearts. She knew the components of a good story, and at best Marylebone would only be used as a lead in to a more important character's tale of glory and adventure. He was two dimensional and badly conceived as far as people went. Maybe it was poor parenting or maybe just the sad fact there was no cure for the chronically stupid. Either way, she was relieved he had left her story. She didn't like his kind. Werewolves were filthy creatures, regardless of their usefulness. Then again, he probably thought much the same of her.<br><br>She showed her ticket to the conductor, who pointed her towards the first class cabin, as she wondered why Marylebone had been necessary in the first place? Were things truly so dire they expected a legion of monsters to stand between her and the train?<br><br>The Grand Architects were ever cautious and ever patient, this much she knew. Patience had never been her strong suit. There were those who could with out compunction spend their lives in a steady crawl across the chess board, but she was not one to wait generations for her efforts to bear fruit.<br><br>She checked her timepiece, eyeing the steady progress of it's second hand. She had to get to England and soon. There was a tremble in her fingertips, her veins darkening briefly as something in her stomach shuddered and stretch. It had been moving much more frequently in recent months.<br><br>She wasn't long for this world... but then if she wasn't successful in her charge, the world wouldn't be far behind her on the way to underworld. She wasn't sure if that was reassuring or not.<br><br>+++<br><br>Six cars behind "her" it seemed perhaps the concern of the Illuminati were justified. In the seedier private cabins, Roberto Boccaccio had been traveling for some time... the screech of the train was becoming his constant companion, so much so that he hardly noticed the guttural screech of steel at each town. Italy was unifying and the railway was it's life line.<br><br>And he was one of it's parasites.<br><br>To any casual observer he was well dressed, possessed of a certain meekness of character. It took a keen pair of eyes to notice his suit was threadbare in places, and was mismatched, as if he'd assembled it one piece at a time. Keener still was the one to note the dappling of blood on his left trouser leg. <br><br>A wolf in sheep's clothing, he made his living on the rails, preying on whomever crossed his path. Pilfering from the drunken, taking his due from the starry eyed women on their way to France. It had supported him for a handful of years without incident, so he could hardly complain that today was his last day on earth. He hadn't necessarily lived a good life, but then, he had enjoyed himself. <br><br>Death walked in at 10:30 in the morning.<br><br>She'd joined the cabin as they were just crossing the French border. Dark as a negro just brought fresh from Africa's shores, there was a certain something in her face that denied direct relation, her long hair a sun bleached blond. Roberto Boccaccio hadn't seen quite her ilk before, nor had he heard such an accent as she chimed pleasantly, "Good day." in such a way as to blend it into a single word. Dressed in creme hued leather, it was a older Florentine stlye suit, cut in that inexplicably sharp fashion that in no uncertain terms assured everyone silently that it had cost a tidy sum. <br><br>She traveled light, only carrying one item on her person. Wrapped in a dark snap cloth was the longest rifle he'd laid eyes on. Hidden as it was from prying eyes, it was hard to ascertain just what brand the weapon was, and Roberto was hardly an expert in firearms. He realized he had been staring, and quickly removed his hat, standing up swiftly in the presence of a lady, "Pardon me... have a seat."<br><br>"Merci." She replied with the same accent tainting her French, as she apparently didn't speak Italian. She wasn't British clearly, but there seemed to be an undertone of the "redcoat chirp" in her speech. Her amber eyes followed his down to her gun, and she smiled almost sheepishly, before stowing it away in the top compartment, "... pay it no mind, oui?" Her vest hugged her thin frame as she sat down, the long coat still dripping from the light drizzle outside. <br><br>Boccaccio made no comment as her wet clothes began to stain the cheap cotton seat, instead taking the time to ask with an innocent air, "Travelling alone?"<br><br>"No... you are with me, sir." she replied in an almost quizzical manner, her fingerless white gloves settling onto her knee as she crossed her legs demurely. Her ants made an ominous creaking noise as the leather was taxed from the motion, which she paid no mind as her ebony fingertips played out a silent tune against her thigh. <br><br>He could hear the "all aboard" from the conductor, his eyes trailing back to the woman. With practiced ease Boccaccio's foot slid slowly across the door catch, locking the cabin from outside intruders, "Shouldn't you take off that wet coat? You are going to catch your death, mademoiselle."<br><br>"Last time I caught death, I threw him right back... but thank you, sir." <br><br>Boccaccio didn't much like to hear the flip tone of the Negress, and as the train began to move, he knew the shriek of the machinery would cover any protests, "I do not take flippancy from a woman, especially a negro... I said take off your coat." He drew a hunting knife from the seat cushion, the blade dull and rusty, and all the more intimidating looking for it. Notched from misuse, some of the rust patina... wasn't rust.<br><br>Death sighed softly, before unbuttoning her top button.<br><br>+++<br><br>Roma tossed the bones against the table in the club car a sixth time, her face twisting into a scowl. Her soup had long since grown stone cold, but she paid it no mind, glaring at the collection of etched bones. Her eyes bulged slightly, a shudder taking over her body as her teeth clenched. <br><br>Nothing... <br><br>They knew well enough that the carrier was on this train, but all she could find was a vague feeling of their target's presence. It was like a jungle cat in the grasslands, hiding silently, almost in sight. <br><br>That would make things difficult. Roma dabbed at a thin stream of blood as it dribbled down her lip. Her nose had started bleeding again. It seemed they would have to track this courier down by the mundane means. She looked across the table to her companion, the little boy's indigo lensed glasses staring back silently. <br><br>As a Romani, they used to tell her tales of horror about the boy's kind... back when she was the little boy's same age. A bandanna was tied about his neck, resting atop his nose, covering most of his face. The pair of dark lensed glasses had claimed to promote good eye sight, and he seemed to like them. Ten years of age if one were to go by looks, his garishly colored clothing made him look as if he were the son of a wealthy merchant.<br><br>What he was REALLY playing at more accurately was being human. Roma nodded her head back towards the cabin car, "Sunday... get up, please." The boy hopped down from his chair, never turning away from her. She pointed back towards the cabins, "We need to speak to McFlynn..."<br><br>He turned quietly, sauntering down the hardwood aisle as Roma took a slow drink of her brandy, before slamming it back on the table. The boy was a thing of gypsy mythology and when she had first been hired, she had loathed the creature. But over time she'd grown accustom to him, in much the same way one felt comfort with an attack dog. It didn't hurt that her second companion, McFlynn was far far darker in Roma's estimation...<br><br>They passed through the other service car, the air thick with pipe smoke and sweet ports, more then a few eyes wandering her way. Noting her plain sense of dress and the little boy that ran ahead of her, the first class boarders seemed to assume she was some nanny. How else the gypsy whore had afforded the ticket was beyond them.<br><br>The cabin car was largely empty, as the price had been rather ridiculous for such ratty accommodations. It was the height of style ten years ago, the chipping of the paint and the fine network of cracks in the wood marking it as largely untended in the passing decade.She reached out for the door because Sunday could not. For some reason, the little creature couldn't open doors for himself. She knew much of the legend, but little about the reality. And Sunday didn't talk. <br><br>Roma could smell the coppery tang of blood already, and as she opened the door, the smoke of the soul poured past her. Sunday's head turned to watch the departed spirit of Roberto Boccaccio as it escaped the room, settling on the downwards trajectory that would root it in the guts of the earth. In the strictest sense, the physical and spiritual couldn't truly effect one another, but then Sunday rarely made sense, strict or otherwise. He stomped on the wisp with a crackling noise audible only to himself and Roma.<br><br>"Oi, nipper... stop playing! Got some work for you." The Aussie chided from inside the cabin. Sunday lifted his head slowly to peer at the aborigine. The "work" needed hardly be spoken aloud, as the broken corpse of Mr. Boccaccio was laying on the opposing chair, limbs twisted at impossible angles. <br><br>The cabin was fitted with the thick double pane viewing windows, able to withstand some of the rough treatment of travelling merchants and drunks. They had fared poorly against Roberto's skull, a series of spidery cracks decorating the glass. Crimson traveled via the crackled edges, the effect of the morning sun playing through it casting ghastly red shadows.<br><br>Sunday Finest stepped past the Aussie as she met with Roma in the hall. The little boy reached up to his bandanna, tugging it from his face as she slid the door shut. McFlynn smiled a thin little grin at Roma, "Bring me something from the kitchen?"<br><br>"No. I can not find him. I see a lacquered case and a suit, but that is all I see of the Courier. The ones who have put us against this messenger... they are black. It is not a good cause." Roma explained, lowering her eyes as she made out the silhouette of Sunday through the frosted glass of the door. The little head shook and worried at something like a dog, a rustling feral sound unruffled by the thick door.<br><br>"Spirits ain't helping then? That's bloody bad news, isn't it? You should have brought me a sandwich to cushion the blow. That would have been the polite thing to do." Catherine played idly with her lucky coin as she stared off into space. <br><br>Roma eyed the coin warily. She wasn't well verse in history of the Europeans, beyond her own people, so she didn't know what a brass sestertius was. All she knew was what she felt from the tarnished roman coin. It was old, black with tarnish, and had passed hands numerous times as compensation for murder. Whether it was truly accursed or assassins simply banded together through the centuries and so did their money, it seemed somehow appropriate that McFlynn had chosen it as her favorite bauble. The Aussie shook her head at last, apparently less focused on their quarry and more on her stomach, "I'm too peckish, too right. Let's grab something, yeah?"<br><br>Roma didn't reply, food the last thing she wanted to think of as she heard the sound of teeth scraping on bones. The steady grinding noise was maddening and incessant, but it foretold something much worse. Roma winced as the bone gave way with a crackling sound, like a tree limb snapped underfoot. Sunday was hungry. <br><br>"We should not do this thing. The spirits do no approve."<br><br>"We were all paid separately. If you want to return, that's your business. If you give them back the gold, maybe they'll let you live. Probably they'll just lop off an ear. What does a gypsy need with two ears?"<br><br>"Romani." Roma insisted with an grim stiffening of her jaw. There were fewer and fewer things each day she would even consider attacking the Aussie over, having seen what she could do when aroused. But Roma's pride was one of the few things she still clutched to. Outsiders liked to give things their own names to limit things in their own mind. It was a practice she didn't like, particularly when they were naming her own people "... we need to split our attention then. We will cover more ground."<br><br>"Spirits be damned? Good for you. We'll make a cultured woman out of you yet." The aborigine smiled thinly, eyeing the shadow cast by Sunday on the glass. As far as they could tell, his face was pressed against the sunlit window, something long and slithering sweeping across the cracks, like a serpent's tongue, "I'll give the kid some money and he can keep an eye on the rails. Let's get a bite to eat while Sunday finishes."<br><br>Not particularly hungry, Roma bowed her head softly, preferring to be away from the creature as it fed. Her people had hunted such things when they were found in the wild... she felt as if the longer she was near it, the darker her soul became. <br><br>"How's the service? I fancy a bit of steak." The Aussie reminded Roma frequently though, that humans had potential to be far worse then any monster. She just hoped this nameless courier was worth all the trouble...<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rukio</strong> on <strong>23-09-2010, 01:41:35</strong>
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				<strong>Paris, France<br>At the top most floor of the Eiffel Tower.</strong><br><br>Drake looked out over the city. It was said that Paris was the most beautiful city in the world. He smirked, his honey colored eyes flashing in the sun light. Paris was indeed beautiful with its wide, inviting streets and quaint architecture, but that wasn't why he'd decided to settle there for a time. It was the infinite opportunity to make money in the city of love. Drake had many criminal enterprises that he'd founded. He controlled them all from the shadows with an iron fist. He had to. What with nobody alive that could even remember his face if he wasn't right in front of them. But that was part of what made him so dangerous. He left no traces and he couldn't be tracked. It made another smirk cross his pale face. There had been so many times over the decades where he was certain someone would figure it out, but still he reigned. There was nobody who could keep up with him. Not the Templar Knights, not the Illuminati, and most certainly not those AEther Knights. The Sidhe were powerful contenders, but only barely equals in his empire he was building. And he would not be stopped. His "Brotherhood of Shadows" may sound like something out of a comic book, but soon enough the world would know them as their masters.<br>"It only gets easier from here."<br><br>He turned, his deep red hair flying with the force of the motion. He liked to keep it long. It added to the effect when he revealed himself to people. As he strode towards the elevator, he noticed a small, mousy looking man standing close and looking scared. It was his contact with his Paris branch of the brotherhood. He walked towards the man with a saunter in his step that suggested dangerous confidence, And why shouldn't he This man was but a mere human. He couldn't grasp the fact that Drake had been around the age of twenty nine for ninety five years. Why would anything intimidate him now that he'd finally acquired the only means of killing him? The mousy fellow finally noticed him and jumped. He didn't know Drake by sight, but knew that he had to be the emissary for Shadow. That's what the brotherhood had decided to call him. He rather liked the sound of it. But Drake was all business now, he slipped his left hand into the pocked of his crisply tailored, black trench coat and heald his right hand out for the papers the man was carrying.<br>"I take it you have a favorable report my brother? Shadow doesn't enjoy receiving bad news and he tends to find that punishing the messenger is a good way ot avoid it."<br><br>The mouse trembled at the thought and quickly handed over the file folder with the Paris report.<br>"No sir. Everything is going as smoothly as Shadow expects. There were a few minor incidents with the local police, but the men in question have been taken care of."<br>Drake was surprised at this statement. The mouse here was more ruthless that he seemed. That pleased him a great deal. He needed men who were going to be of use to him. He flipped open the file and began to read. It was mostly the usual business and financial tranactions, but there were a few entries of several of his rival groups snooping around in his operations. That gave him pause. He really didn't need his enemies doing too much digging too deeply. Not this early in his plans.<br>"Why have the spies from the rival factions not been dealt with yet? Shadow is at a very delicate phase in his plans. He wants nothing to go wrong."<br><br>The mouse straightened his tie. He looked so much like some mild mannered accountant type. Drake was only starting to notice the signs of a deadly killer beneath the mousy exterior.<br>"We're waiting for them to dig a little deeper. We don't want Shadows enemies to get the idea that we're hiding something huge just yet. It would give away too much to have them killed before the opportune moment."<br>Drake nodded once and then turned to go. He didn't bother speaking to the mouse again. He knew the man was already moving back to the stairs. Drake punched the button on the elevator. The infernal contraption took forever to reach the top floor, but Drake wanted solitude on his trip down. Too many people frequented the stairs for his liking. He would have to arrange for a car to take him to his villa outside the city limits. There he could review the documents more closely and make his next move. For his business in Paris was, for the time being, concluded. He would have to make his way to Italy now. Another one of his favorite countries. The food was exquisites.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>23-09-2010, 04:51:56</strong>
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				Veronica stood on the bow of the ship Majesty, her red tinted eyes watching the coastline as it drew closer little by little.&nbsp; They would be in Paris by nightfall.&nbsp; It was the time of day that she enjoyed the most.&nbsp; Though she could tolerate the sunshine thanks to the human blood that ran through her half human veins, she never felt quite as strong as she did at night when the suns rays didn’t weaken her.&nbsp; It was the same when she went without blood of some kind for an extended period of time and sustained herself on a diet of human food.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>It had been nearly 5 years since she had last been to Paris, the place of her birth and the place where she had grown up the first 13 years of her life with her mother mademoiselle Debusy.&nbsp; Then in the blink of an eye her life had changed.&nbsp; Her mother had been raped and murdered by thugs that had accosted her in the street.&nbsp; That had been the first night she had tasted human blood.&nbsp; It had been irresistible in the haze not to give into the vampire part of her.&nbsp; Her mother had told her to go knowing that she wouldn't be safe to stay in paris anymore.&nbsp; So Veronica had fled form her home and travelled abroad spending time in London and then going to America, Veronica shifted uncomfortably as the old painful memories of her last night in Paris threatened to resurface and was grateful when a she felt a tug on the sleeve of her violet dress.<br><br>“Mademoiselle, the gentlemen in the black cloak with blond hair has asked me to coney his wishes that you join him for a drink.” a man dressed in a sailors outfit.&nbsp; Veronica had made it a point of not getting too familiar with anyone despite the time she had spent on this ship.&nbsp; Being familiar with other was a dangerous thing especially since she didn’t know if the next person she talked to was a Templar who would be more than happy to slaughter a half vampire if they got the chance.&nbsp; <br><br>She flashed the sailor a dazzling smile.&nbsp; “A drink you say,” she laughed darkly at her own humor.&nbsp; It was doubtful that she and the man had the same idea when it came to drinks.&nbsp; “I don’t think that would be a good idea, but tell him thanks for the offer...”&nbsp; <br><br>She was cutoff mid sentence as a man who matched the description the sailor had given her approached.&nbsp; He placed a hand on the sailors back,&nbsp; “Thank you, my good man,” the blond haired gentlemen said handing the man a sack that presumably was filled with a number of coins.&nbsp; “I’ll take it from here, my compliments.<br><br>“Of course Mister Worthington, thank you kind for your generosity,” the sailor said as he tucked the bag of money into his coat and wandered down the deck toward whistling a tuneless melody as he went.&nbsp; <br><br>Neither of them paid much attention to the man as strolled away.&nbsp; Veronica was studying the blonde man before her and it seemed that he was doing the same.&nbsp; He was a handsome man with blue eye, an American from the sounds of his voice.&nbsp; From the slight bulge beneath his coat she would say that he was armed and she immediately grew distrustful of the man.&nbsp; <br><br>He watched Veronica as though waiting for her to break the silence.&nbsp; When it became clear that she wouldn’t he decided to get the ball rolling.&nbsp; “You’re a tremendously difficult woman to track down Miss Luana,” Worthington said smiling a confident American grin.&nbsp; “I’ve been looking for you for a long time but you always seem to be a few steps ahead of me.&nbsp; “I just missed you in Boston.”<br><br>Veronica maintained her composure though it would have been in her nature to hiss.&nbsp; She didn’t like people following her, though she knew that she was on many hit lists on both sides.&nbsp; “You seem to have me at a bit of a disadvantage Mister Worthington,” Veronica said cooly, but politely.&nbsp; “You know who I am, but I don’t have any idea who you are.”<br><br>“Ah, forgive me where are my manners?” Worthington asked himself looking genuinely apologetic.&nbsp; “My name is Edmond Worthington, and I am a member of an organization that is interested in recruiting you for your unique talents”&nbsp; He smiled her apparently expecting his words to flatter.<br><br>They had the opposite effect as Veronica’s brow knitted together and she shifted her position subtly&nbsp; ready to fight if it came that.&nbsp; “What the hell do you know about me?” she asked in a low voice that only he would be able to hear.&nbsp; She absolutely hated being at a disadvantage like this not know if this Edmond was friend or foe.&nbsp; As a pessimist she always assumed the worst of others.&nbsp; “Which organization do you work for?&nbsp; The Templar’s, the Illuminati?”&nbsp; With a sniff of the air she verified that he was human and more than likely one of the two.&nbsp; <br><br>“All in good time my good woman,” Edmond replied as though he hadn’t noticed any change in her posture or attitude.&nbsp; He was still smiling a friendly smile.&nbsp; “All you need to know at the moment is that I don’t mean you any harm.”&nbsp; He turned and walked to the rail and leaned our looking into the bay.&nbsp; “We’ve been watching you for a very long time young one,” he said not looking at her.&nbsp; “We know the kind of life you live... a part of both worlds natural and supernatural yet welcome in neither.&nbsp; You put on a good show of it in the human world though, but your always careful not to get to close to anyone.&nbsp; Despite your other half you resist the urge to kill humans, though you do make exception’s from time to time killing particularly vile humans who only prey on the weak powerless.&nbsp; The organization that I represent could use a woman like you.&nbsp; Give you a place to belong....”<br><br>“Not interested,” Veronica said almost immediately.&nbsp; It was a habit and nothing that he had said.&nbsp; She didn’t join causes, never had.<br><br>“I thought you might say that,” Edmund said a smile twisting at his lips.&nbsp; “Though I’m sure I can convince you to change your mind.&nbsp; Our intelligence gathering is one of the best in the world.”&nbsp; He turned to look at the half vampire half human hybrid.&nbsp; “We know you are looking for your father, we can help you with that search if you let us......”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>EroticWinged</strong> on <strong>23-09-2010, 15:12:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Philadelphia, P.A., Express to NYC, 1:52 a.m.</strong><br><br>Washington Hale practically collapsed back into the seat.&nbsp; Virginia was certain she felt the train car shift under his weight.&nbsp; She had never before seen him actually stop to catch his breath, but at least the blood had stopped flowing from the stump of his severed left arm!&nbsp; Well, severed wasn’t quite right, their quarry had torn the man’s arm clean off in the fight atop the train.&nbsp; Virginia stepped gingerly over the vampire on the floor of the little cabin as she rummaged through the suit case for replacement clothes for Hale.<br><br>“Why…” Hale started to ask something, “did it take so long for him to die?”<br><br>Virginia turned to look the man in his beautiful eyes, still full of life.&nbsp; Sighing with relief she glanced down and saw the stump of arm regrowing before her very eyes.&nbsp; “Is it always like that?” she asked, holding out a shirt for him.&nbsp; He took it in his good hand, it was covered with blood, mostly his own.&nbsp; “Oh, silly!” she yelped, chiding either him or herself, and yanking the shirt back.<br><br>“What, this?” Hale asked, lifting the growing stump of arm up.&nbsp; Even as he did, the end was bulging and clearly a hand would grow out of the silently elongating, pink and brown lump.&nbsp; “yeah…”<br><br>“No, no…” she said, quickly, if quietly, cutting him off.&nbsp; “The fighting… up there,” she turned her gaze toward the roof of the rattling train car.&nbsp; “It was so… brutal.”<br><br>“Yeah!” Hale said a little too loudly.&nbsp; “Put up a good fight din’cha, Victor?” he said, giving the vampire at his feet a good kick.&nbsp; It was easier to mock his dead opponent than to look at Virginia and see the pain and concern in her eyes.&nbsp; “But why?” he said again, wanting to get back to the point.<br><br>Virginia sighed and looked at the floor.&nbsp; But the dead Victor could not or would not be ignored, so she looked out the window.&nbsp; The black emptiness of the Alleghany countryside made a mirror of the glass so she finally looked back to Hale.&nbsp; “He was old, very old and… very evil.&nbsp; I’m sorry-”<br><br>“No,” said Hale, cutting her off, now.&nbsp; “It’s my… job to be in harm’s way.&nbsp; Don’t worry about me,” he added, not wanting to touch upon that particular emotion.&nbsp; And yet, “I’m just worried about you.”<br><br>“He was very old-” she started to repeat herself.<br>“You’re 263, last I counted.&nbsp; I don’t even know how old I am.&nbsp; How old is old?”<br>“You’re 137,” she whispered.<br><br>“Yeah, well,” Hale said quietly, unable to bring himself to ask her if she was still willing to kill for the cause – her cause.<br><br>“No, no,” Virginia said, more conversationally, “besides his innate strength, he probably had some magic at his disposal.”<br><br>“Should I send some people to go over his lair?&nbsp; Maybe there’s a grimoire or…”<br><br>“No, his underlings will have already cleared the place out – and kept the best for themselves,” she dismissed the plan.<br><br>“Damn Hydra, this bunch,” Hale complained.&nbsp; “Whatta you reckon I do with old Vic, here?” he asked, giving the shriveled old corpse another kick.<br>“Emma Place is among those meeting us on the platform.&nbsp; You will debark and bring her on the train while I keep the cabin occupied.<br><br>“Yes, ma’am,” Hale answered curtly.&nbsp; Once his new hand had grown sufficiently enough to use, he took off his tattered jacket and shirt, used them to wipe away most of the blood and then dressed in a clean shirt and jacket.&nbsp; <br><br>“I know how you feel about her,” she said.&nbsp; She wondered if the man had any idea how painful it was for her to even utter those words.&nbsp; “I promise you, Hale, she can do this, it will not hurt her.”<br><br>Hale literally growled.&nbsp; He didn’t want to let loose the words that came to mind.<br>Virginia leaned forward and laid her hand atop Hale’s right hand.&nbsp; Not the new left hand – that would have been just too creepy.&nbsp; The man sighed and seemed to calm down immensely.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>23-09-2010, 19:49:53</strong>
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				<strong>Afternoon, the Kane Estate outside of Sussex</strong><br><br>Reginald Hightower watched the Lady of the house walk with the children after their afternoon of play. She had shown many faces in the last few days since her arrival. She was a blunt sarcastic woman who worked the staff hard but fairly, and worked herself even harder. She was a lovely woman who seemed to care nothing of her appearance but sought to hone her mind to the utmost. She worked dozens of plans at the same time, sending encoded telegrams and ornately sealed letters out at all hours. The maps on the back wall of the study were covered with notes, pictures, and sketches. All focused on one man. Ephraim Waite.<br><br>But all faces she shown never prepared him for this. A Lady Kane who was laughing and dancing with the children of the staff. She actually had taken a trio of them through the ornate gardens on the estate, telling them the mundane facts of the things growing on the ground. It was a very confusing picture to him. She was kneeling with them, whispering as she showed them something. They giggled and dashed off as she stood and headed towards him. They waved and called out to her as she walked up the steps to the house, folding something that he couldn't quite make out in the afternoon sun.<br><br>"Lovely day isn't it Reginald?" She asked with a smile of all things.<br><br>"Yes Miss." He said as she she tucked away the thing she held into the folds of her clothes. <br><br>"Tell the cook, that the children are to have anything they want tonight for dinner. They showed me something ..quite rare." She said as she walked in, the smile fading from her face to be replaced by the normal blankness.<br><br>"What was it Miss?"<br><br>"A moment of pure joy, they should be savored." She said with a sigh as she vanished into the shadows of the house, the clicking of her shoes echoing in the paneled halls. "Best we get to work, Lord Fisk's gala is the day after tomorrow and I've got much to prepare before my arrival there. I'll be in the library, see that I'm not disturbed."<br><br>"Of course Miss." He said before hearing the door close, pausing to collect the already large pile of missives to be sent. The stable boy was getting a lot of time on the estate's best hunters, he thought wryly as he checked the list of instructions she left on the table. <br><br><strong>Two days later, at Lord Fisk's London Estate.</strong><br><br>"Lady Selene Kane-Waite, and escort." The doorman announced as Selene strode into the gala. Only a handful of face turned to look at her. Reginald slid his arm free of hers and leaned in to whisper in her ear.<br><br>"Are you sure that you wish to do this alone Miss?" She leaned back over to reply. <br><br>"There are exactly six other men in the entire country I trust in this undertaking. Two are currently in London chasing down leads at my instruction and aren't available, one is in Ireland chasing down something that best not wake, and Lord Quartermain was last seen departing for darkest Africa. You, Reginald, are the only other I trust to listen to me and do what you're told. You know the plan, stick with it and all will be well." She slid her arm free as she met his eyes and nodded. He sighed and nodded, stick to the plan. The reckless wild plan that screamed of suicide, but he had to admit she had the skills and tools he didn't to pull it off.<br><br>"We'll be waiting Miss." He said as he turned and vanished into the bustle of the Gala. When things had settled down enough, he'd return to the coach that brought them and wait for her signal. He was sure this would go south, but she was the Kane and he was the servant. There was a way to these things.<br><br>Selene watched him vanish into the bustle of the crowd as she put on her 'social face'. Lady Kane-Waite smiled, was charming and appealingly witless way. An appalling amount of pounds had been put forth to get a briefing on who to watch, who to speak with and who to avoid. Lord Fisk was luckily 'occupied' she noted, intent on some pretty little waif who had the wit of lukewarm milk. <br><br>She watched the flow of the party, looking for a flow of things. Seeing who was there on invitation, and who was there to hunt. It didn't take long to spot the flow of prey and predator. Lord Fisk's influence was in a large part due to his 'shadow world' connections. As a result of that, she had to spend a lot of time preparing her move. A small charm, slipped onto one particularly frumpy dowager, who had harrumphed her disapproval at her being unescorted at the gala, drew interested eyes from her at the right moments. A touch of glamour and illusion, nothing more. Lucky for her that the Lord had minions with little or no willpower of merit. She slipped down one hall and was quickly at his study door. His locked study door.<br><br>She smiled as she pulled a small clockwork from her dress, only one of a dozen items she had secreted about her. The dress had cost her at least five times what it should, and was the product of a particularly specialized seamstress from Paris. Normally she designed and made dresses for a clientele of 'negotiable virtues'. Highly paid women that were discrete and .. flexible. Her gown looked suitably normal and didn't stand out too much, but had all sorts of extras that would have had a normal dressmaker screaming at her in fury. Several twists and she slid it home in the lock where it clicked and whirred quietly. <br><br>She leaned against the door and waited with one ear tuned for those who might take umbrage to her intruding the Lord's sanctum. She opened the door as the clockwork clicked itself off and unlocked the door, she pulled it free and tucked it away before opening the door and sliding into the room. She gestured as she closed the door, and a witchlight flared into life over her shoulder. <br><br>"Time to get to work Selene." She muttered to herself as she started scanning the room for the book in question. The glamour wouldn't last long and if one of Lord Fisk's 'exceptional' friends could easily pop it like a soap bubble. Then all manners of trouble would come about. She sighed as she leaned on her 'parasol' and looked at the locked desk in front of her. <br><br>"Looking for something Lady Kane-Waite?" A voice asked as her clockwork cracked the lock open. She looked up to see the massive bear-like frame of Lord Fisk and pair of men at the door. "I was curious, the Kane family I've dealt with on and off for the better part of two hundred years. Annoying nosy folk for the most part." He said as he walked into the room, leaving the guards at the door while he opened a cabinet and poured a pair of drinks. "But I don't know of any Waite family of note in .. why at least two centuries. There was a small group of Waites in Cornwall, but as I recall the Roundheads killed them off. In fact, if I'm not wrong.. Solomon Kane himself killed the last of the ones in England did he not?"<br><br>"The Waites are a New England family, scholars who owned massive fishing interests near Ismouth in Massachusetts." She stood up and picked up her parasol as she smiled to the Lord as she took the offered drink. "Sadly, the family line has.. fallen on bad times. Thank you." <br><br>"Oh? What happened?" Fisk asked as he looked her over.<br><br>"Me." Selene said firmly as she looked at him, all civility draining from her face. "I did. There are exactly two Waites of that line left. At least for now. I need Unaussprechlichen Kulten by Friedrich von Junzt, the copy your library contains has a provenance that goes back to a particular location. Give it to me and we can go our separate ways in relative peace. That, Lord Fisk, is an offer that Solomon Kane wouldn't have made."<br><br>"Indeed, he was quite.. forthright and direct, like a cannon shell." Fisk said with a smirk. "But why should I simply give up a prize like that at your request. However blunt and direct it might be."<br><br>"Simply this Lord Fisk." She said as she stood, banishing the seeming to show what she was carrying wasn't a woman's parasol but a walking stick of some age. The cat's head and beset with hieroglyphics down it's length added to an unspoken menance, the wood seemed to drink up the fitful light of her witchlight and gave little back. Her other hand slid a massive knife set in silver out from her dress that she drove point first into the desk. "I will burn your little fiefdom down, chase down every one of your blood besotted drones and put them to the knife. I will buy the ruins of this nice little house and turn it into something nice and pure, and bind your dark soul to it forever. I can do that, I know a nice rite that can keep you here forever, just beyond the veil. Unable to touch, taste, or feel anything that feeds your kind. I'll find your entire bloodline and kill them all. Scatter their dust over the ocean. Undo all your plots, plans and machinations."<br><br>Lord Adam Fisk, the first and only Lord Mountover, opened his mouth and bared his fangs to the woman barely two thirds his size. <br><br>"I'd like to see you try girl." He said to her with a smirk.<br><br>"Careful what you wish for vampire." Selene growled as she stepped out from behind the desk and pulled a small pouch out of her dress. "You might get what you wish."<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>23-09-2010, 23:07:26</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Huxley Estate: Kingsport, Massachusetts</strong><br><br>The sun hung low and fat in the sky over Kingsport, a glob of phosphorescent paint smeared against a sickly orange sky that throbbed uselessly behind the encroaching pall of heavy rainclouds.&nbsp; An amber light seeped into the worn shingles of gabled rooftops, saturating hordes of moldering old colonial houses until they glowed like dim coals in a dying fire.&nbsp; &nbsp;The buildings seemed to cling to one another for support, second and third floors jutting precariously over poorly paved roads until they nearly touched the neighbor opposite them, forming makeshift tunnels and cavernous alleys that twisted the old port town into a labyrinth of decadent architecture.&nbsp; These jutting piles of worn edifices clustered up against the shore and rotting shipyards like pigs to a sty, their faces turned away from the newer parts of the town where wide streets bustled with wide-eyed tourists and motorized trolleys, and modern houses whose lifespans measured in the single digits sat proudly with plenty of space between them.&nbsp; <br><br>Overlooking the hoary old fishing community was a wide and ancient hill, and upon that hill sat a wide and ancient steeple, its paint fresh and white in spite of the age that weighed down on its sagging roof and swelled gluttonously in its wooden beams.&nbsp; But above that weary place of worship lies yet another building, a great and masterfully constructed manor of untold antiquity set right into the very rock of the mountains that served to cloister Kingsport from the rest of Massachusetts for so many years.&nbsp; Great spires erupt from its sides and spear themselves towards the oily sky above, the dark walls and crumbling stonework bringing to mind the fantastic and foreboding castles set deep within the dark countries of Eastern Europe, a near-perfect replica transplanted across the world and altered into a crude facsimile of the houses far beneath it.<br><br>And within that manor is a room, its walls and floor and sparse decor tinted a fetching shade of lavender that quickly becomes painful and obnoxious to the eyes; even the air itself seems to be visibly perfumed with the stench of it, wafting about in clouds that ought to make one wretch from the sheer potency of it.&nbsp; A single chair crafted in the vague shape of some foreign beast, its four legs ending in sculpted claws, sat facing the door and the large expanse of emptiness between them.&nbsp; There were no windows, and the poor ventilation had allowed years of dust to settle into the undisturbed corners.<br><br>The Widow Huxley sat in the beastly chair, her excessively fashionable mourning garb a refreshing shade of deep blue that billowed about her in silent waves of silk cloth and accented with a green panel of embroidered lace over her corset-restricted chest, the collar held shut with a brooch of similar color.&nbsp; Her hat was crowned with black feathers that sagged over her deathly pallid face like a veil, allowing only the thin line of her purple lips to show.&nbsp; At a glance it was clear that she was a woman that cared a great deal about appearances, even if that appearance was one better suited to corpses.&nbsp; <br><br>"Machen is <em>here</em>?&nbsp; In <em>my</em> town?" she asked incredulously, her glassy voice scraping unpleasantly against her throat.&nbsp; <br><br>The startlingly cruel-looking man standing between her and the door shook his head.&nbsp; "Not presently, no.&nbsp; But we do know that he is currently <em>somewhere</em> in Massachusetts.&nbsp; If he is truly becoming as bold as has been suggested, it seems likely that he may come here in search of information."<br><br>The Widow's lips curled.&nbsp; "You think it's bravado that lures him into my nest?"<br><br>"Ignorance," the man corrected.&nbsp; "It has been some time since he last stepped foot on American soil, and he is viewing his former home with new eyes and insight.&nbsp; But he is trudging forward blindly, unaware of what lies beneath his every determined footstep and probing question.&nbsp; Suspicions and paranoia aside, it is unlikely that he is even aware of our influence here."<br><br>"Then why not stay in Europe?&nbsp; Why must he cross the oceans to make a nuisance of himself on my doorstep?" she snapped back.&nbsp; "Not that I do not relish the chance to return every slight and impudent transgression back to him tenfold and deliver his remains to the Speaker."<br><br>The man furrowed his brow, the sharply pointed ends of his mustache wriggling as he slid a tongue to wet his cracking lips.&nbsp; "Presumably to escape Lady Rigby, M'lady."<br><br>The decrepit woman let out a harsh laugh like the crack of a musket, a sneer disappearing beneath the feathery veil.&nbsp; "I'm not sure whether I should praise his intelligence or mock him for his shortsightedness.&nbsp; I can't think of a single soul that <em>wouldn't</em> want to be rid of that insufferable brat, but it is only because of her continuous incompetence that he has not been captured and the Key returned to us."<br><br>"I would advise against underestimating them, M'Lady.&nbsp; Helena and Machen both."<br><br>She scoffed, dismissing the advice with a wave of her meticulously manicured hand.&nbsp; "Do not lecture me about such things.&nbsp; She wields power only because her father is a slave to her whims and holds enough influence for his demands to have weight.&nbsp; She can't even capture one mortal man despite all the resources she could ever <em>dream</em> of and enough fae-folk prancing to start a Wild Hunt!&nbsp; I could care less if she's a prodigy.&nbsp; In the eyes of the Speaker, only results matter."<br><br>The cruel man remained silent for a moment.&nbsp; "Mortal Machen may be, but normal he is not.&nbsp; Lady Luck seems to have designs upon him, and his voice is said to have an uncanny effect upon the mind.&nbsp; We would do well to approach him with caution, M'Lady."<br><br>"It is his <em>mortality</em> that makes him barely worth acknowledging,"&nbsp; The Widow retorted venomously.&nbsp; "Fortune may indeed have smiled on him the day he stole the Key, but it is the stupidity of our own that allowed him to escape.&nbsp; He is utterly <em>inconsequential</em> in the grand scheme of things.&nbsp; What can a man of a paltry few decades possibly do to us?&nbsp; This town is far older than he, and its people older still.&nbsp; Our order is even older than that.&nbsp; The relic that he has so callously taken from us was here long before his eldest ancestor crawled up out of the mud.&nbsp; What chance does a single human man possibly stand against the legions of the Manifold?"<br><br><br><div align="center">-------------------------------------------------</div><br><strong>The Boar's Head Pub, Boston</strong>&nbsp; <div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Characters/RobbieJarvis2.jpg)</div><br>Meanwhile, one Philip Ramsey Machen was doing a helluva job trying to keep most of his alcohol in his mug or in his mouth, as opposed to sloshed all over the bar and the front of his suit.<br><br>"Another round on--what'd you say your name was again?"<br><br>The thoroughly drunken man turned to his neighbor, a heavy-set fellow whose face was about as red and blotchy as a cart of bruised tomatoes, and and nearly as bulbous around the edges.&nbsp; His overalls were completely saturated with liquor--not that that was much cause for alarm, as it seemed the entire pub had gone completely mad and was quickly riding an adrenaline high into a non-communicative stupor.&nbsp; The floors were absolutely soaked, the man at the piano was attempting to play some incomprehensible piece with his feet and a leg of lamb and failing to be heard over the chorus of raucous laughter that split the air whenever someone toppled to the ground, and at least three tables had been broken under the weight of dancing drunkards.&nbsp; Asking for another round seemed laughably pointless, as the bartender had long since collapsed and was currently sleeping in a puddle of his own drool.<br><br>And Philip, of all the people in the room, was the focal point for all of it.&nbsp; On the street he'd be the sort of person one's eyes would just sort of pass over without noticing, too nondescript and unassuming to even take note of.&nbsp; Not too short but not too tall, not particularly handsome and not especially cute but falling right square in the middle of the spectrum, average and just easy enough on the eyes to get by.&nbsp; His hair was short and brown and looked to have been cropped by an unwieldy pair of hedge clippers, eyes just a little too wide and a lusterless shade of blue.&nbsp; Philip was physically unremarkable in just about every way, with a cyclist's build hidden under drab and tattered clothes and a jacket that looked to have been patched up so many times that none of the original cloth remained.&nbsp; A total nobody.<br><br>But everyone, for reasons that couldn't quite explain at the time whilst heavily inebriated, <em>loved</em> him.&nbsp; He was an old friend, a brother, a celebrity, a rich relative promising a sizable inheritance, a trustworthy ally, the President of the entire damn United States; whatever he had asked them to believe, their minds had filled in the blanks in whatever way they chose to.&nbsp; Philip hadn't dared let himself go and abuse both his gift and his liver for nearly three years, and now he'd come home and all was right with the world.<br><br>At least for tonight.&nbsp; Through the growing buzz that had settled in over the chronic ringing in his ears, he could hear Carter's words droning:&nbsp; <em>"Kingsport.&nbsp; That's where you should take your questions.&nbsp; But Phil--you may not like the answers, if you're stubborn or mad enough to go looking in the dark for them.&nbsp; Probe too deeply and you may dredge something up that aught not to be."</em>&nbsp; The look in his eyes had reminded him of something.&nbsp; It had reminded him of the first time he'd looked in a mirror after losing Sandra.&nbsp; The horror was palpable in it, etched into every wrinkle and crevice in his skin.&nbsp; Randy was a dreamer--always had been from what he could recollect--but he too had seen something in the intervening years.&nbsp; Perhaps something even more terrible than the <em>thing</em> Philip had seen through half-blind eyes in a cellar back in Italy.<br><br>Philip could feel the hangover already, but he'd need that pain tomorrow.&nbsp; Kingsport was calling.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>24-09-2010, 04:15:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Veronica’s eyes narrowed slightly suspicious of the American calling himself Worthington.&nbsp; Her body was tensed.&nbsp; She was very ill at ease that he seemed to know so much about her.&nbsp; She had tried to remain as under the radar as she was able and yet somehow this man seemed to know everything their was to know about her, and she knew nothing about him other than that his name was Edmond and he worked for some top secret organization.&nbsp; <br><br>“Just relax lady Veronica”, Edmond said moving forward a few steps.&nbsp; He could see that it would not be easy to get the half vampire to trust him.&nbsp; It was truly a wise policy, very practical to not trust too easily or quickly.&nbsp; When you trust you give someone power over you, yet if you never allow yourself to trust you can miss out on some truly wonderful things.&nbsp; “I have no intention of hurting you.&nbsp; You have my word on that.”<br><br>Veronica did relax a very little, though it would not appear that way to Edmond.&nbsp; “You ask me to trust you, but you won’t trust me without really telling me anything,” she stated coldly.&nbsp; “That is asking quite a bit in my opinion.&nbsp; Until you give me some answers I’m not agreeing to anything.<br><br>“Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to simply take me at face value,” he said with a nod as he appraised her face.&nbsp; “The organization that I work for is responsible dealing with threats that are too big for the Templars or the Illuminati to deal with,&nbsp; our members are picked because of their talents, some are exceptional shooter others like you have have other gifts that are very useful in the work we do.”<br><br>“Work that you won’t tell me detail about,’ Veronica said wanting a solid answer from this man asking her to join his organization.&nbsp; “I’m not interested in being used as a weapon or a tool......”<br><br>They we’re silent for several moments the only sound coming from the waves of ocean.&nbsp; Veronica relaxed and walked over to the rail.&nbsp; Edmond moved over a few moments late.&nbsp; “We don’t want a weapon, we need individual of principle who will help us face the most evil creatures on the planet.”<br><br>“I’m guessing your not with the Templars or the Illuminati, neither of those organizations would have anything to do with me,” her voice was dark as she spoke and her eyes looked out over the darkening sea, to the shore which had drawn closer in the time she had spent talking with the man.<br><br>The man considered for a fraction of a second and then came to a decision.&nbsp; “No we are neither with the Templars or the Illuminati though our goals are similar,” Edmond replied watching intently.&nbsp; “We are the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and we do not discriminate the way they do.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>EroticWinged</strong> on <strong>24-09-2010, 13:34:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Emma Place stood bouncing on the balls of her feet – this was about the closest the petite girl ever got to standing still.&nbsp; Her arms moved, her feet and hands moved, her pretty little head moved.&nbsp; It was downright annoying to the two other members of ‘The Family’ who stood a ways behind her on the platform.&nbsp; It was barely after 5 o’clock in the morning and the platform was already bustling with businessmen, market runners, merchants, commuters and servants all rushing off to work.&nbsp; Emma certainly fit in with the New York scene.<br><br>As people bustled past her, whatever money they had in their pockets, wallets, purses or bags would appear in Emma’s little hands as if by magic.&nbsp; It certainly wasn’t magic and she was no pickpocket.&nbsp; There wasn’t a magician in The Family that could detect her working and no one ever missed anything, because nothing was ever missing from their pockets – unless a more mundane pickpocket got to them after Emma did.&nbsp; Emma copied things: everything from fancy jewelry and wads of paper money to sheefs of stocks and bonds or knives and guns.<br><br>She often wondered on how it was she could perceive the things she couldn’t even see.&nbsp; Her best – and only plausible – explanation was that people’s minds were often fixed on the things they thought valuable and she was somehow attuned to those thoughts.&nbsp; Now if only she could read people’s minds!&nbsp; That would be a great gift.&nbsp; She envied the few telepaths in The Family.&nbsp; Curiously, they envied her.<br><br>Frequently, Emma would saunter over to the man and the woman with whom she was working and stuff little piles of loot into their bags.&nbsp; Normally they did this once or twice a month at most.&nbsp; For the past several months, Emma had been plying her trade as frequently as possible, several times a week, now.&nbsp; It was the best way to collect the massive sums of money Mistress Virginia had ordered.<br><br>As the train from Philly thundered into the station, Emma gave up all pretense of working.&nbsp; They were here, after all, to meet the Mistress.&nbsp; The people around became harder marks anyway, as if their thoughts had turned to schedules, pressing appointments or anything other than where their valuables were.&nbsp; This was a good moment for regular thieves.<br><br>A screech of brakes was followed by billows of steam.&nbsp; The busy New Yorkers didn’t wait politely for the train passengers to debark, they fairly rushed the doors, eager to get the best seats or cabins.&nbsp; But they could not bully their way through Washington Hale.&nbsp; The giant man had rarely to actually use his strength to make way through a crowd.&nbsp; No, People naturally got the Hell out of his way.&nbsp; The moment Emma saw him she squealed and raced toward him.&nbsp; Weighing next to nothing, she could not muscle her way through the throng, so she nimbly dodged around people with the speed and agility of a small bird.<br><br>“Chickadee!” bellowed Hale as Emma took a running leap into his open arms.&nbsp; He held her up and swung her around in a wide circle, her feet pelting several people on their elbows or upper arms during their spinning embrace.&nbsp; No one dared complain, they only moved further away.<br><br>“Look at you!” Hale said, setting the tiny girl down and holding her at arms length.&nbsp; “Your hair is darker,” he added.<br><br>“I know,” she said.&nbsp; “The sun never reaches the streets of this blasted city.”&nbsp; She pulled a long lock of reddish-gold hair around to stare at it for a moment.&nbsp; “How was Texas?&nbsp; God, I miss Texas.&nbsp; Where’s Miss V.?&nbsp; Is she here?”<br><br>She would have gone on and on had not Hale stopped her.&nbsp; Normally the girl’s frantic energy always amused Hale, but he was not smiling now.&nbsp; “Yes, she’s here and she wants to see you before she gets off of the train.”&nbsp; Even the ever oblivious Emma could not miss the man’s change of mood.&nbsp; She craned her long, slender neck to see the other Family members, but Hale gently turned her toward the car’s door, “Just you for now,” he said.&nbsp; She had completely missed his subtle signal to the others to wait.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>24-09-2010, 21:32:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>A back street of Paris, France<br>Looking up at the Eiffel Tower</strong><br><br>"Lexi what are we doing here?" Her nervous voice cut there the silence as I stared up at the Eiffel Tower. I shushed her with my hands as I squinted my eyes against the harsh sunlight. We should have been too far away to see anything but if I tried hard enough I could just glimpse the two man on the top most floor.<br><br>"Lexi." her voice broke my concentration and I turned to level my violet gaze on her. "What?" I asked sounded put out, a bit of french accent clinging to my singly word question. "We shouldn't be here, if they found out..." She trailed off looking over her shoulder as if expecting the very shadows to come alive as eat her. I rolled my eyes and went back to looking up at the pair, "We won't be caught." I said in an off handed manner not really caring if she believed me, she never did anyway.<br><br>"We never should have followed him" She said wringing her hands, pacing, making it completely impossible to focus. Sighing I stood up and leaned back against the cool building "Aren't you the least bit curious? They say he meets with the Emissary." I said a smiled lighting my delicate elfin face, "I just want to see if it's true." I said with a playful smile. "Now come on I'm going closer can't see anything good from here anyway." I said in parting before dashing off.<br><br>I moved gracefully running with ease my raven black hair streaming out behind me as I wove threw the streets knowing every street and ally as one only does when they've grown up on them. I stopped just across the street from the tower and leaned against a building just inside one of the ally openings. No one would notice me unless they were looking for me. I looked up and could only see one of the men now. He looked diffrent from this close more substantial some how. I shrugged off the odd musing and waited. <br><br>I hadn't told my friend but more then casual curiosity drove me to follow our boss . I'd always seen to the truth in things, it was just the way things were. So in a society cast in shadows was a lure for a girl like me. Plus I didn't like mystery around me and this was a big one. Hidding in the shadows myself I had every intention of trying to figure out who these masterminds of lives was starting with the Emissary.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>24-09-2010, 21:40:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Lord Fisk's London Estate, outside</strong><br><br>"So the young Miss, Mr. Hightower?" The coachman asked as he checked the four horses on the coach. <br><br>"Is there a question in that sentence Howard?" Reginald asked as he watched the front of the house. He alternated his focus between the window on the third floor and watching the patrols of men walking the estate. The coachman chuckled as his eyes flitted back towards the house as the patrol he was watching for came into view. <br><br>"Well I'm a few years younger than you so I never met the Miss' grandfather or any of the other Kanes, so I don't know if this is the sort of way they do things. Is she being reckless or what?" Hightower smirked a bit, a comic image of Jacob Kane doing this sort of thing. The image of the old scholarly old man in a gown was amusing, but he said nothing of the image.<br><br>"Lord Kane would have gone in looking for what he needed. Lord Fisk would have known better than issuing an invite to the old man, though he wasn't half the hell his father was. The Lord's father was very much the image of his namesake, Solomon. The building would be burning, we'd be picking off the remaining blood sots with a pack of hounds and shotguns."<br><br>"She going to take the subtle path?" The coachman sounded a disappointed at the idea of not putting some of his less obvious skills to work, almost all the staff had been asked from time to time to help the Kanes dispose of this or that problem. Since Jacob's departure for the former colonies, they had been discrete in discouraging the longer lived of the Kane's rivals from encroaching on the estate. Usually with a crucifix, silver and/or rowan stakes.<br><br>"Looks to be going that..." His reply was cut off with the crack of thunder as a pair of bodies were ejected from the study window. He reached into his jacket as Howard leaned into the coach and pulled out a pair of shotguns and bag that he slug over his shoulder. <br><br>"Do we go inside to assist the young Miss?" Howard asked as he trotted to catch up with the fast striding Hightower. He handed over one of the shotguns to the taller man. Who took it with one hand as he walked up to one of the fallen men, taking in the burned man's appearance. The man should have been dead, had he been mortal, the skin burned away to show the fangs of a vampire. "A sunburn? At this time of night? How did she pull it off?"&nbsp; Hightower pointed his pistol down and fired into first one then the other man's skull.<br><br>"Miss Selene knows a little trick or two, Howard. She showed me what she was taking inside the vampire's lair. A pocket full of sunshine." Reginald grinned as he pocketed his pistol a spun the shotgun in line to the first of the guards come charging out the front door and fired. <br><br><strong>Lord Fisk's London Estate, inside the Study</strong><br><br>Selene turned back to face the now much more docile Lord Fisk. She could barely make out the massive handlebar mustache among the burned ruins of the elder vampire's face. She stepped over the piles of ash that were the remains of the two vampires that had lurked behind him at the start of their confrontation. The other two had been a bit more resilient, and if she hadn't used a spell, they might have taken her in the initial rush. The blast of sunlight she had used was quite bright, a bit more than she had expected and she had been a bit bedazzled herself. She barely had time to drive a stake into Fisk before the other two were upon her. She shook her head to clear it, pausing to pick up the glass of double malt he had poured her.<br><br>"I think I will have the drink after all m'lord." She said as she leaned against the desk to regain her wits. One of the men had nearly connected with her when they came charging in. She suspected she hard bruised a rib or two from that near miss. She looked at the man on the floor, clawing at the wooden spike she had pulled from her hair and pinned his hand to the floor with. Already she could see the veins in his hand as the toxin she used as a lacquer spread through his arm and beyond. "Sorry all I have to offer in return is saint's blood, that is what is on the pin."<br><br>The lord's response was a mess of gurgling and obscenity. She shook her head with a smile as she stretched a foot out to wiggle the pin in place in his hand. She was rewarded by a howl of pure pain as she moved it to fro in the wound. She picked up her blade and tucked it away as she got up and walked around to checked the locked drawer of the desk. A massive ledger, and a small trio of bags sat upon a fourth larger bac bag. She emptied each out in turn, whistling at the massive number of cut gems and deeds that she found in the smaller bags, before opening the last bag. The smell of bitumen and pitch filled her nose as she pulled out the preserved hand. A Hand of Glory, at most a decade old. <br><br>"You've been busy m'lord." She said as she returned to where he lay. "Why don't you tell me what I want to know and end this. The saint's blood can't be too enjoyable." Her foot returned to wiggling the small spike and she was rewarded with a scream as she heard the roar of gunfire outside along with the screams of party goers fleeing the house. She sighed as she pulled a pistol out and snapped a shot at the doorway. A second shot rang out and one of his drones flopped to the floor. "Excuse me a moment." <br><br>She strode across the room and shut the doors, pulling a small wax tablet from her gown and pressing it in place. A word of power set it into place with a sizzle of wax and burned varnish. She turned back to the fallen elder vampire with a smile.<br><br>"We'll have more privacy now." She said as she walked back to him. "At least till some of your more witty men realize that they can most likely crack a wall down more easily than the door frame now. Now we were discussing your copy of Unaussprechlichen Kulten. " She pulled the knife out and held it into view. "Give me the book and you can die quickly, which is more than any of the legions of victims you had over the centuries."<br><br>The elder vampire started screaming as she turned her hand to the 'questioning' at hand.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>25-09-2010, 03:24:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Paris, France&nbsp; 8:30 pm<br><br>Darkness had fallen in earnest when the ship finally docked in the harbor as the passengers descended the ramp to the dock in Paris.&nbsp; Veronica had not brought much just a bag with clothes and other necessities.&nbsp; Though she enjoyed the finer thing in life it isn’t very convenient hall around a bunch of jewelry and sparkly things.&nbsp; The only jewelry she owns is a necklace that was given to her by mother.&nbsp; &nbsp;It wasn’t worth very much compared to some of the other pieces she has worn but it is the most special to her, a keepsake that she cherishes very much.<br><br>Following a short distance behind her to Veronica’s great annoyance is the man named Edmond.&nbsp; The red headed Vampire tries to ignore him hoping that he will go away if she ignores him long enough.&nbsp; ‘I should be so lucky’ she thinks to herself, as he feet reach the dock.&nbsp; She had told him plainly before that she wasn’t interested in joining his League and yet still her persisted.&nbsp; “Is your order deaf?” Veronica asked her voice sharp and irritated.&nbsp; “I told you I’m not interested.&nbsp; Why can’t you understand that.<br><br>The smile that appears on Edmond’s face is infuriating.&nbsp; “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies innocently.&nbsp; “I have other business in Paris besides you.&nbsp; It is only coincidence that we seem to be walking together now.”&nbsp; <br><br>His excuse is plausible, and yet Veronica doesn’t believe his innocent smile or his words for an instant.&nbsp; She huffs and picks up her pace along the dock.&nbsp; Edmond following in her wake.&nbsp; <br><br>“You really could be of great help to us though, and we could be of great help to you as well,” he said confirming her suspicion.&nbsp; “If you change your mind I will be staying at the inn here in town for the next couple of days.”&nbsp; <br><br>They reached the end of the dock at that point when the wood planks of the dock meet the water front.&nbsp; Veronica sighs planning to make her point a little plainer if he doesn’t go about his business when they reach the dock.&nbsp; “I’ll think about it but I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” she said her heel stiletto’s&nbsp; making first contact with the cobblestone street.&nbsp; <br><br>“That is all I ask,” Edmond replied calmly as though he expects her to change her mind.&nbsp; “Have a good evening Mademoiselle Lunau, I hope you have a pleasant stay in Paris.”&nbsp; With that the man moves ahead of her heading off down a street that will take him into town.<br><br>Verornica&nbsp; moves along the water front for a ways before turning down another street.&nbsp; He thoughts turn to her purpose here.&nbsp; She wonders privately if she is mad for coming back to this place even to pay her last respects.&nbsp; Five years surely isn’t a lot of time for people to forget about her.&nbsp; If anyone recognized her she was sure to draw the attention of every Templar in a 20 mile radius of Paris in on her.&nbsp; After all to them she was a monster, she wasn’t even human.&nbsp; Just another vampire.&nbsp; Yet she had to come here.&nbsp; She owed her mother that much to say good-bye.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rukio</strong> on <strong>25-09-2010, 03:36:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Drake hadn't known that Mouse was stupid enough to have been followed, but, upon further examination of the area, he'd found a girl hiding in the shadows. She seemed to be waiting for someone. Drake, taking advantage of his ability to become completely unnoticed, walked closer to where she was hiding. Sure enough, the second she saw Mouse, she began to tail him. Drake was furious. How could such a fool have risen so high in one of his factions? His eyes flashed with anger, looking more like pools of molten gold now. He would deal with Mouse later. Now he was merely interested in seeing what the girl was up to. If someone had managed to infiltrate without Mouse knowing, Drake was going to have to take a personal hand in putting his Paris operations right. A problem that would set his plans back for decades. He did not want it to come to that. He would have to see what she knew. And soon. Mouse had noticed her. He was sure of it now. Mouse was walking along as though he didn't know a thing, but the slight change in his gait and step suggested otherwise. Mouse was not a stupid man. He was simply a very underestimatable one. Drake followed them for a short time, not bothering to hide himself. There was no way they'd know he was there anyway. And when they reached a particularly shady area of town, one that was home to Drake's biggest ware house, he decided to act. He couldn't afford to let this go any farther than it already had.<br><br>He withdrew his power from the girl, making his presence noticeable only to her. Then he strode towards her, his expression one of cold, calculating intellect.<br>"What business do you have following Shadow's man Girl? It's not safe to meddle in things that don't concern you."<br>He slipped his left hand into his pocket, grasping the hilt of the dagger he kept there. He didn't know what this girl was capable of, but it wasn't likely that she could take the poison he'd coated the blade with without some kind of trouble. Drake was nothing if not cautious when in a dangerous situation. He'd had plenty of practice doing so after all. Almost a century in fact. And he wasn't about to let his guard down with this girl. No matter how innocent or otherwise she may be.<br>"Why are you following him? Speak and I might let you live for now."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>25-09-2010, 08:45:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The water front was most quiet as she walked along the waters edge.&nbsp; Only a few people moved along the streets.&nbsp; Almost everyone that was out was visiting the local drinking establishments cooling off after a long day of work.&nbsp; Veronica didn’t want to think about drinking right now.&nbsp; It had been along time since she had hunted and the thirst as growing nearly intolerable.&nbsp; After she went to visit her mom grave she would have to make a side trip into the country side to hunt, unless she stumbled across a murderer on the way.&nbsp; She frowned to herself, she couldn’t count on that, and she knew it.<br><br>“Excuse me miss could you spare some money,” a man with long matted grey hair spoke his words slurred.&nbsp; To Veronica is sounded as though the man had already had a few to many to drink, and knew that if she gave him money he would just use it to buy more.&nbsp; Course it could also be a ruse she knew to make her drop her guard.&nbsp; The man would regret it if that was it.&nbsp; <br><br>“No sir I’m afraid I can’t spare any money right now.” Veronica replied watching the man ready to strike should he make the wrong move.&nbsp; Instead the man simply stumbled away grumbling under his breath.&nbsp; Veronica relaxed slightly and set of again down the street.&nbsp; <br><br>After another few minutes along the coast she turned down a dark street heading into the city.&nbsp; It was the kind of street where respectable people avoided.&nbsp; The kind of place where the seedier forms of life dwelled and hunted.&nbsp; Perhaps she would get lucky and one of the thugs would peg her as an easy victim.&nbsp; &nbsp;She doubted she would have that kind of good luck though.&nbsp; <br><br>Up ahead there was a situation developing.&nbsp; To her sensitive ears could hear what seemed to be altercation between a man and someone else.&nbsp; It was difficult to tell but it sounded like the man was threatening the person who from this distance looked to have a female form.&nbsp; Silently Veronica disappeared into the shadows moving in closer to get a better grasp on the situation.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>25-09-2010, 09:34:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				My eyes widened considerable with suprise and what could easily had been named shock when the man startled me. I pulled out of the crouch I'd been in hidding behind the barrels as I'd followed boss and looked over the man. The hair was unmistakable but how I'd not seen him was irritating. I always saw what was hidden, always. How had I missed a whole person?<br><br>I knew my emotions were playing across my face and tried to wipe them away and take on an air of innocents but the effort was wasted. I was angry at losing boss and being made and further more by not seeing him. I pinned my eyes too him and smirked lightly when he spoke "It's not safe to make assumptions about what does and doesn't concern a person. Why I'm following him is really unimportant."&nbsp; My eyes lit on his pocket just over where his hand grasped the hilt of his poisoned blade and I looked back up and him and gave him a look that plainly said 'you've got to be kidding me'.<br><br>I backed up slightly and perched on the top of one of the barrels completely unconcerned with the veiled threat implied by the knife not to mention the not so veiled threat in his words. I took another moment to look at him trying to find anything of use any truth about him that screamed out to me but I was uneasy and it made reading him even harder then it would normally be. Just looking at him memorizing his distinct look felt like it was driving nails into my skull. I rubbed my temples lightly my raven hair falling slightly in my face as I did so hidding the momentary expression of pain in my expressive amethyst eyes, "Besides if you were going to kill me I think you would have done so already." I said looking back up at him brushing my hair out of my face and pinning him with my stare.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Brittlby</strong> on <strong>25-09-2010, 09:56:00</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"I do not need to tell you how rare such a creature is. She is the opener of the way."<br>"She is dangerous. We should have an end of this. You play with fire letting such a child live."<br>"Think of the doors she can open for us. Vistas you can not even imagine."<br>"I have thought on it. Have you?"<br>"Reward is not without risk."<br>"What if she opens up something we can't shut?"<br>"... we all die. Reward is not without risk."<br><br>+++<br><br>The courier examined her case habitually, a nervous tick that was as consistent as it was unnecessary. Its cherry hued lacquer was polished with an obsessive compulsive zeal, reflecting the flickering lamplight in her cabin. The nighttime landscape of the French countryside passed leisurely by the window, the steady click-clack of the rails laying out an almost hypnotic rhythm. <br><br>The cabin was garishly decorated with satin drapery, presenting the illusion of finery. She had noticed that the drapery was actually in place to hide the gouges and carvings in the wall. Left by passengers past who had applied their peculiar wit to the polished oak with a knife point, unsurprisingly, they were mostly fart jokes. The French always did love their roman comedy and fart jokes. <br><br>She had read them all the first hour. The good ones she had read twice.<br><br>There was a strange odor in the cabin that she had tried unsuccessfully to recognize for the first five hours of the trip. Like the graffiti, the railway had tried to cover it up, rather than actually tending to the source. The pungent orange oil did little to mask it, instead just sickening the already queasy messenger. It was a very small and personal victory for the courier when she at last found the lunch pail left in the top luggage compartment. There was nothing so gratifying as solving a mystery. That out of the way, she stared blankly around the cabin, filled with a growing disappointment that her only source of entertainment had expired.<br><br>Five minutes passed before she checked the case again, running her fingers across the embossed masonic seal. Again, it was largely unnecessary for three very important reasons. The first being that it had been in her possession for the last fourteen hours. It had been her only companion in her private cabin. Depressingly it was as silent as she was. <br><br>Secondly, it was possessed of no lock, snaps, or even hinges. There was no complicated puzzle or sliding seams or in fact, any method or manner to opening it. But she always managed. That was her gift. She could open things. Locks, tumblers, combinations, door jams, sliding chains, mystic seals, hammer and nails, and bloated housewives in chairs. There was no means of impeding her if she wanted to open a door. <br><br>There were those who told her it was a rare and powerful gift. She knew a fellow Illuminati member who could make a person fall in love, empty their pockets, or die straight away with a single glance. It was apparently much more common to have such an evil eye, than to be an opener of the way. She didn't feel lucky. Particularly today, infirmity tearing through her body and the enemies of the Grand Architect hunting her.<br><br>The third reason she wasn't concerned was... less pressing to her than checking the case once again. <br><br>Predictably, some might say, it was still in her lap.<br><br>Her eyes opened wide at a sudden and unnatural growling sound from within the cabin. While her particularly lavish imagination entertained all manner of beasties for a paniced eternity, she sheepishly realized that she had not dined. It was easy to forget the mundane necessities of living at times like this.<br><br>She had been trying to keep a low profile, but she rationalized that dying of starvation was very much not low profile. Retrieving her bolder hat and parasol, she examined herself in the reflection of the viewing window. It was unseasonably hot in her room, but she had refused to remove her tweed coat. Parasol wrapped about her wrist, she grasped her case. Her knuckles were white beneath her gloves as she felt her guts twisting again. As she stood up, her contents shifted, making her queasy. <br><br>The air was thick and warm in her lungs, offering little comfort as she gasped. In the grip of her illness, she shuddered feebly, her forehead pressed against the door of her cabin. The pain faded by slow degrees, and she drew in a ragged breath to compose herself before opening the door. There was an almost oval burn in the wood where her forehead had rested. Ravenous despite her nausea, she lurched out of the cabin. It was delightfully cool in the passageway, somewhere in the mid seventies she guessed. Steam rose from her body briefly as she acclimated to the change in temperature. <br><br>She could make herself out in the looking glass, her veins standing out starkly on her pale skin, pure indigo lines crisscrossing beneath the flesh as the sickness shifted briefly once more. It seemed to settle at last, the color returning to her face slowly. As she walked down the corridor, the deadbolts and twist locks of the cabin doors serenaded her, clicking open and twisting as she passed. <br><br>It was late, but the meal car was still in the back end of its service hours. Food would do her a world of good, she knew. Gripping the rail as her strength slowly returned, the courier felt clammy as if she were suffering from a particularly bad hangover. <br><br>The few faces that were still prowling the service car blended in with the garish upholstery, as simple background noise in an otherwise miserable personal hell. She plopped down in a seat, reaching out a trembling hand towards the menu. The calligraphy was so sharply rendered, that trying to read it was making her nauseous again. She tapped her water glass as the rail server passed, and he wordlessly filled it. <br><br>Unnoticed by the courier, she had caught the attention of another passenger. Roma eyed her from across the room. Or more accurately, the gypsy eyed her case. Roma had seen it in her minds eye dozens of times today, the lacquered cherry wood etched into her memory. Furtively, she looked about, hopeful that McFlynn was still in the car.<br><br>She wasn't. <br><br>The aborigine had been making a habit of irritating Roma, so it was hardly a surprise that she was consistent even now when she needed her. Roma would have prefered that the monsters were the ones to get their hands dirty. Without a sound, she reached into her hair to draw out a hat pin. She gripped it in an underhanded hold, the glimmering steel hidden behind the frills of her dress as she stood up casually to approach the courier. <br><br>Roma gnawed on her lip nervously, taking another step towards the courier's exposed back. She had done it a hundred times before, but it never got any easier. Insert the pin into the spine sharply between the vertebrae, inducing paralysis instantly. Roma didn't need to see through the heavy tweed jacket. She could feel the sweet spot from eight paces away. <br><br>Seven... six... five...<br><br>The courier drank gratefully from her glass, the cool water doing her a world of good. The sea within her stomach began to settle considerably. The cardstock menu felt strangely reassuring between her fingertips as she set down her empty glass. She heard the creak of the floorboards behind her as Roma approached, but paid it no mind, instead taking the opportunity to examine her case again.<br><br>Yes... It was still there.<br><br>Roma let out a sharp hiss of breath as she lunged forward, the needle meeting little resistance from the tweed or the tender flesh beneath. The courier's eyes widened and she let out a soundless scream. Roma was shocked to find that for the first time in her recollection... her victim could move. She swung her case as if it were a bludgeoning weapon, the wood making a solid "CRACK" against Roma's forehead. <br><br>The courier flopped out of her chair, awkwardly trying to reach the pin that was still wedged into her spine. Like a mime in it's death throes, she gnashed her teeth noiselessly as she flailed in a panic. Roma clutched her bleeding face, the few night time passengers still in the dinner car too shocked to react. The woman in tweed lunged drunkenly to her feet, her case clutched in a death grip as she took a jaunty step back towards her cabin.<br><br>The gypsy cursed, pulling herself up into a dining chair, blood streaming down her scalp and into her eye. Gritting her teeth as she began to see double, Roma moved to give chase, but stopped as she felt something whizz past her head.<br><br>Something buried itself in the couriers shoulder, spinning her around like a top. She felt her shoulder-blade shatter from the impact, her parasol falling from useless fingers as she hit the ground. It was almost three seconds after the impact that she heard the rifle report in the distance. Eight cars up the train, McFlynn blew a stray bit of powder off of her lens, working to line up another shot. She held her breath, feeling the target in the distance.<br><br>Her father had been a dowser. In the outback, he could find water, food, shelter. All he had needed was a stray bit of ash wood and the will. Miss McFlynn didn't need to find any of those things. The only thing she ever looked for was blood. The great thing about her job was that she often found it. In abundance. <br><br>She squeeze the trigger, the kickback of the rifle stirring something almost sexual deep within her as she fired again. The courier had been weakly crawling along the floor of the car, attempting to get back on her uncertain feet. The second bullet landed squarely against her case, breaking her fingers as it was pitched free of her grasp. It clattered to the ground in pieces, but it's owner was past caring. The woman in tweed made it to her feet once more and with her shattered hand resting against her chest, she took the last few steps towards the diner car's exit.<br><br>As the door slid open, she found a small boy on the other side peering up at her with amber eyes. In the moment of hesitation, as she took a confused step backwards, he pulled down the bandanna that covered the lower half of his face. There was a gaping maw where a mouth should be, the absence of a lower jaw replaced by a long, prehensile tongue. Wickedly edged, the barbed tongue lashed out like a snake, opening a fatally deep wound in the courier from crotch to sternum. She fell backwards, the screams of the passengers growing ever further off in the distance as her hearing began to give out.<br><br>Roma stooped to pick up the shattered case where it had fallen, shaking at it curiously. Splinters and nothing more rattled free from the housing. The case was empty. She flung it away with a curse, striding towards the courier as her blood began to stain the carpet. Seeing that her little "friend" was intent upon feeding, she held up her hand, "Sunday... stop!" <br><br>The woman in tweed was breathing rapidly now, a wheezing sound filling the cabin from the punctured lung she'd received. Roma stood over her, hiding her sympathy behind a mask of ferocity, "I will make it worse. The pain. I will make it so bad you long for hell. Death will not save you from me, messenger. Tell me where it is. Where is the parcel?"<br><br>The courier lifted her hand, her fingers bent at unnatural angles as she rested them on her chest, trying to stop the blood. She gripped at her ribcage, exhaling slowly as her fingers sank into the seam opened up in her flesh. With a sharp tug and a crimson spray, she opened herself up like a cabinet. There was no crack or pop as of broken bones. Impossibly, she simply... opened. <br><br>Like a puppet with it's strings cut, she fell motionless, her chest left swinging and open. There were no organs or even any blood. Just blackness inside the woman, like the opening of a particularly deep well. And then something reached out from the velvety darkness, though it was like no hand Roma had ever seen. It was inexplicable in shape and terrifying in size. <br><br>It pulled itself out of the courier, too large to have ever fit inside the slender woman in the first place. Wedged within her remains, it dragged itself out onto the floor of the train car with a chattering sound that made Roma nauseous. Her mind tried to cope with the visage of the thing, the sheer impossibility of it's existence pinning her still with dull animal terror. The air around it warped and twisted in a heat haze as if reality itself could scarcely tolerate it to exist.<br><br>Sunday stared up at the creature as it filled the cabin, still wearing the courier like an ill fitting pair of pants. Her spine twisted wetly as the thing managed to pull it's other arm free. Sunday knelt, prostrating himself before the thing as it glared down at him with eyes that belong in the unseen depths of the sea. Too many to count, they were unblinking and without the capacity for mercy. It was far too late for fealty to the greater horror, and the demon, Sunday, trembled as the thing's serrated teeth were bared, it's jaw dislocating like a snake's as it lunged forward to consume him.<br><br>Eight cars ahead, McFlynn stared at "it" through her scope, her gorge rising as she felt fear for the first time in her adult life. As far away as the thing was, she could see enough to know she didn't want to see it any more clearly. The aborigine slammed the butt of her rifle into the window, tumbling out into the night time countryside. She skidded down the rocks, grateful for each bump and rock that she collided with, the pain reminding her she was alive and out of the train.<br><br>The service car was a blood bath, the thing spreading death and madness with each step it took towards Roma. The gypsy stood her ground, her lip quivering as it approached. It extended a long and sharply serrated limb, like a mantis claw, a glistening spike crowning it's tip. The thing caressed her bloodied forehead like a lover, whispering something from a thousand mouths in a language that had not been spoke since before the birth of man. There was a "CHOCK" sound as the tip of it's limb was wedged sharply into Roma's skull. <br><br>She twitched briefly, feeling a sensation unlike any she had before. It was as if she had been in a dark room her entire life and only now had someone turned on the light. She could see what the thing saw, the vision of its hundreds of eyes feeding directly into her brain. It could feel her terror and she could feel its gratitude for her freely given fear. Roma watched her own mouth open as she screamed. <br><br>The chatter of the thing whispered in an almost feminine voice, "I will make it worse. The pain. I will make it so bad you long for hell. Death will not save you from me." Somehow the gypsy knew the voice didn't belong to the thing. It was too alien to waste time mocking a creature as insignificant as Roma was. It was the Courier speaking to her. And she was right. <br><br>Roma already longed for Hell as she divined the creature's intentions moments before it acted on them. <br><br>++++++++<br><br>She tapped on the display glass, drawing the clerk's attention to the suitcase inside. Spanish leather of a vibrant chocolate hue, its snaps were silver and iron. The slim locking mechanism was a glistening lion's head, it's teeth ringing the keyhole. It looked sturdy and well made, but more to the point it was quite stylish and went well with her new parasol. In short, she had to have it.<br><br>"Oh, it's very nice, miss. You've a good eye for quality." The clerk retrieved it from the display case, sliding it forward for the woman to examine. Strangely dressed in a gentleman's tweed suit, she at the very least had money, despite her unusual taste. She adjusted her hat fussily atop her mane of blond curls as she leaned in to examine the case with a skeptical eye. <br><br>Oh yes. She had to have it.<br><br>"You are from Italy?" The clerk asked, noting the make of her suit. The Courier nodded affably, hooking the grip of her parasol around her wrist as she began to dig through her billfold. The clerk shook his head, "Have you heard the trouble on the rails? Such a tragedy the crash. So many dead. But then I have never been one to trust those trains."<br><br>Wordlessly she counted out the bills, spacing them on the glass carefully, one next to another before sliding them towards the clerk with a soft nod of her head. Seeing that she was not in the mood for conversation, the clerk accepted the money, resting the suitcase and its key on the table, "Merci for your generous purchase, mademoiselle. Welcome to Calais. The ships to Sussex will begin boarding in the morning. Enjoy your evening here."<br><br>The Courier nodded her thanks, savoring the feeling of the leather against her fingers. The case had a reassuring weight to it that she appreciated as she stepped out into the street. As she made her way towards her inn, she could make out the islands across the Dover Straight. The cool sea air was doing her a world of good, her delicate stomach complaints having all but vanished for the past two days.<br><br>She tapped her parasol against the ground, enjoying the sound of it's tip against the cobblestone. It was a glorious evening, and she swung her newly purchased case with a bit more swagger than she might. New clothes and accessories always invigorated her. Come world's end, she was always much more at ease when she was fashionably dressed.<br><br>Passing the docks, she spun the key to her suitcase idly around her finger, eyeing it in the moonlight. As impressive as the lion's mouth lock was, the key was distressingly unremarkable. She paused briefly, kneeling over the case as she locked it up tightly. Satisfied, she tossed the key into the Dover, giggling silently at the "splash" sound as it skipped briefly over the surface.<br><br>+++<br><br>"What if she opens up something we can't shut?"<br>"... we all die. Reward is not without risk."
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>25-09-2010, 19:47:41</strong>
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				<strong>Notre Dame Cathedral (http://projectvisual.net/photos/nikon_d300/february09/23-interior-notre-dame.jpg), Paris, France, 2:31 PM. Five months ago.</strong><br><br>Lucas Joseph Judas Carpenter entered the magnificent cathedral, awed by the glory and beauty of the building. <br><br>The stain glass windows winked and glowed in the sun’s hot, loving warmth. The light was giving the splendid area of worship an atmosphere of warmth and strength, making Lucas feel like he was returning home after a long and treacherous journey from a dark and dangerous place. And, in a way, it was true. The new scars that adorned his body were proof of that.<br><br>The lithe, blondehaired man shook his head, chiding himself for even trying to complain about his work. It was for the Lord, he reminded himself. Anything for the Lord is worth the trouble. Even if it meant fighting temptress with magic, demons and the occasional monster that leeched on the blood of the living, he would continue it. It was a job that served the Lord and Lucas was willing to do it no matter what.<br><br>His light blue, almost grey, eyes looked up at the inside of the building once more to admire the details and devotion the builders and architect had put into this. He could feel the faith, love and devotion in the air, fuelling his tired body with the energy the patrons inside this house of God were showing. He smiled a bit; glad to see that there was still faith in the Lord even with these dark times.<br><br>He walked to one of the front pews, wishing to be closer to his Father in any way. He kneeled down and clasped his hands together and thanked Father for protecting him during his latest mission in the name of the Church.<br><br>People in Notre Dame stopped to look at the young man, barely in his mid-twenties, as he prayed. In a contrived (and impossible to happen to anyone else) coincidence, the light of two of the glass stained windows, opposite of each other, shone in a way that it landed on him. It was leaving him in a bathe of light and good warmth, relaxing his sore and taut body as he prayed.<br><br>He heard footsteps coming to him. Measured and soft, as if wanting to sneak up and not have him notice their presence. He did not stir or become afraid, instead welcoming the person with open arms. Well… an open heart at least. His hands were clasped together at the moment.<br><br>“I see the Lord is playing favourites again. He never has done that to anyone else before. I hope you are not becoming pampered and spoiled from this treatment,” the person said, their voice amused and light.<br><br>“I assure you, Father,” he said. “That I am not feeling special or treated in any way the Lord treats me. He treats all of us as equals and simply gives what he feels is just.”<br><br>The person next to him by his right laughed. The voice was firm but kind. The speaker had a rich, deep tone to it, like honey and sugar turned into sound itself if Lucas ever had to explain what the sound of the man’s voice was. <br><br>“Still talking like you’re a priest yourself I see,” the man said. “It has been a while since you’ve came here to Notre Dame, dear Lucas. I have a feeling it is to not just to pray to the Lord though.”<br><br>He turned around, seeing the small and elderly Father Frollo. The man was at 5’3 and hunched his shoulders a bit, looking tiny compared to his 5’7 frame. While small, the man made up for the quiet confidence and grace he showed with the way he looked at Lucas straight in the eye, and the steady but open gaze he kept one the younger man’s face. The priest was not wearing his usual outfit, the cassock and all, but instead wore the everyday clothing making him very ordinary to the eyes of the other people here.<br><br><em>A good thing</em>, Lucas thought to himself as he stood up and hugged the man in greeting. <em>Considering the fact he must not be seen and noticed at all.</em><br><br>-------------------------------------------<br><br>“What mission from the Vatican requires sending a strapping young man like you to me?” Father Frollo joked as they walked out of the cathedral together as he watched the busy streets before him. “I do hope you didn’t do anything to upset the others to make yourself a babysitter for an old man like myself.”<br><br>Lucas laughed, shaking his head. “I love spending time with you, Father Frollo. You literally raised me since I was a little boy after all. And fear not. If you came to Vatican and asked how I am doing there, I believe most people would like me well enough to send me packing away for trips like these.”<br><br>“May I ask why you are ‘protecting’ me then?”<br><br>The two walked in amiable silence after that, going to a quiet part of Paris, a rare thing, to continue their talks. Their conversations could not be overheard. Who knows who is spying on them or not?<br><br>“Someone is out to get you Father Frollo,” he finally explained at last. When they were alone in the streets, a place where it was mostly rundown and boarded up now. “It is that… that… that woman. Caroline Richardson. You know her, no? The nun who ran away from her convent to become a witch and made a deal with some… unsavory things to get her power?"<br><br>“I know her,” the priest said.<br><br>“It seems that she’s been murdering priests for sacrifices for her magic for a few months," he said. "Burning them. Burying them alive. Stabbing their lungs. Drowning them. It seems she is doing this in the name of the elements, as some of our sources says, and has been doing this in every major country. She… she has her eye on you now, now that she in Paris. I have been sent here to protect you.”<br><br>“Ah, I see,” Father Frollo replied casually.<br><br>“Why are you not surprised?” he asked the priest, looking surprised himself. “A witch, a temptress who kills others for her own gain, has marked your soul for death! Is that not worrying Father?”<br><br>“Caroline, like all people who practice the dark magic, is simply a lost soul,” the man said gently, trying to calm him down. “I’m sure the young lady can be talked down from this if you’re willing to listen to her.”<br><br>He couldn’t help but sneer, shaking his head. “Someone like her… she will never change Father. She chose to dance with the Devil and clearly revels in the chaos and blood in it.”<br><br>“Lucas,” Father Frollo said. He stopped walked, making him halt as well, and took his hand into his gnarled, calloused hands. Rough and coarse from years of hard work and devotion to the Lord. “Be kind, be open and be willing to forgive. That is the message of the Lord and Jesus Christ himself and we must be able to practice that to all. Even to people like Caroline. She is just a human. Like you and me, like everyone else. She too deserves to be treated with forgiveness and respect.”<br><br>Lucas felt his heart soften and he was about to say something when laughter exploded from behind them. It was a beautiful sound, he recalls. Like bells pealing in loud, piercing cries.<br><br>“You’re a man with a talent for words Father,” a voice, a woman’s, purred with seduction and arrogance laced into it. “Too bad that it won’t help you. <em>Incendia</em>!”<br><br>And then the blinding pain came.<br><br><strong>In a motel, London, 1:12 AM. Today</strong><br><br>Lucas cried out, his hand reaching out to get his broadsword, Fides, as he was wrenched away from his nightmares. He opened his frightened, scared eyes and hissed when he realized it was just a nightmare. Yet again.<br><br>“Another one,” he sighed, sitting up from the hard mattress to look out the window to see London thriving. “Another one this week alone.”<br><br>He wished not to be in this state of melancholy but he was. Ever since the brutal murder of Father Frollo, he has been having nightmares of the events. He did not remember what happened next, since the pain alone made him pass out. When he had woken up, Father Frollo’s burnt remains lay next to him. A note attached to the smoulder skill.<br><br>Can you forgive me for this? It read.<br><br>“No,” Lucas hissed, feeling anger bubble into his heart. “I will never forgive you Caroline Richardson. Never.”<br><br>Ever since that day, the day he couldn’t protect the one person he loved more than the Lord himself, he has been tracking down the whereabouts of Caroline. Hoping to exact his revenge in name of Father Frollo. He has danced with her many times but she has gotten away, leaving him angry and flustered every time.<br><br>He stood up from the bed to put some proper clothes on, remembering that he was going to meet some people today and he would have to meet them soon. The whole reason why he was London was about Caroline, since the people claimed that they had information about her and will give it to him in return of his services for a task they need help in.<br><br>At first, he was leery of the offer. It seemed too good to be true. But his other leads and tracks of the witch have been turning up empty, so he might as well try.<br><br>He throws his coat over him body, cloaking his scabbard broadsword to some degree. Clasping his cross necklace on his neck for good luck, he stopped his hurried pacing to touch the iron and silver cross. He felt nostalgia and sorrow come to him. This was the last birthday present Father Frollo gave to him.<br><br>Pulling himself out of those thoughts, he left the motel room to meet the people soon. He hoped he wasn’t late already.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>25-09-2010, 20:46:07</strong>
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				<strong>The Fisk Estate in London, Last night</strong><br><br>Howard's shotgun blew the last of the lord's minions in half. He turned to watch Mr. Hightower finish with his man with a skull crushing blow from his shotgun. The two of them had stepped in when Fisk's men started trying to drag some of the party goer's&nbsp; back into the building. Clearly the elder vampire's hold on them was wavering. <br><br>"The young Miss must have done something with the old Lord, I reckon Mr. Hightower." He said as he reloaded, pausing to sniff the air. "And I think she's about to make her departure." <br><br>"Indeed I am Howard." Selene said as she walked into the room, her dress rustling as she stepped off the stairs. The two men's look over her made her smile as she waved the bag she was carrying with her. "The blood isn't mine." She touched her split lip with a shrug. "Well just a touch, I suggest that we leave soon. While the fire I called is our ally I doubt the remains of the building falling upon us will be as kind or as considerate. Best, gentlemen, we be on our way. I doubt that the circumspect nature of the police's absence from his lordship's neighborhood will last much longer." <br><br>The two men nodded as they fell in step with their Lady, paying little mind to the screams they could just hear over the flames.<br><br><strong>The Kane estate in Sussex, this morning</strong><br><br>Selene was eating breakfast in the study, must to Cook's displeasure. The older woman has certain opinions, one being that eating in the study was the purview of men. A lady, on the other hand, wasn't supposed to rush through or engage in things of importance beyond house operation and planning for her eventual wedding. It had been a long engaged feud, which is why Selene suspected the eggs were a bit runny and she was drinking tea rather than the coffee she had brought from Rome. Cook had lost the intial engagements, the threat of being shipped off to the house in Scotland and having another member of the kitchen staff before their time.&nbsp; The older woman was punishing her in the subtle ways only a house cook could do.<br><br>Still, she was eating in the study and while she didn't like the menu choices aside from runny eggs, they were of high quality.&nbsp; Hightower walked in as she worked and handed a pile of messages, telegrams and the papers fresh from London.<br><br>"Cook says the beef is off and that we'll be having chicken for a day or two." She sighed as her man continued. "I've sent an agent to pay off our man at the Yard to keep an eye on the Fisk estate fire. Our solicitor has orders to acquire the land as soon as it comes on the market, strangely enough no one seems to know why the entire house burned to the ground despite the efforts of the fire brigades." Selene shrugged, the fire she had called was an ally of one of her allies. It wouldn't have ceased till all the house was burned beyond recovery. She continued looking through the book she had brought back with her. She had started searching through the book by witchlight on the frantic ride back to her estate.&nbsp; They had nearly set the horses to foundering before meeting their train.<br><br>"Good, I imagine if you hint that I'm not partial to mutton we'll be needing to stock up on mint sauce soon." She observed wryly. She continued to make notes as she slid a pile of messages to be sent out. "Hint that I might waver but that I'm getting cranky with my terrible addiction to coffee being unsated and mention that I'm sending for a special machine to install in the study so I can make my own." She paused in her notes to slit open a sealed message and looked up. "Who is Wallace Campion?"<br><br>"He's a representative without papers from Whitehall miss. The sort that does the back stairs communications that keep things going without scandal or informing those who think they are in charge." Selene nodded, she had dealt with similar folk in America, gentlemen of influence with no real station or title. They kept the government's dark secrets while the elected men did the business of politics. <br><br>"And why would he wish to see me?" She asked dryly as she continued working, pulling another book from the pile as she did so. <br><br>"I think your encounter with the Late Lord Fisk might be part of it, of course the Kane family has been called upon from time to time to render discrete aid to the crown." She nodded. <br><br>"Well I replied to his message earlier, as well as the others. There is a list of names that I will be willing to receive in red ink. Keep it upon yourself and get me my damn coffee before I set fire to Cook's herb garden."<br><br>"Of course miss." He said with a slight smile before withdrawing. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rukio</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 01:42:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Drake smirked at the girl's reaction to him. She was scared. Perfect. Drake liked it when he had the upper hand. And his adversary being scared of him was a great way for him to be on top of things. She was convinced that he had no intention to kill her. How mistaken she was. Drake just didn't intend to kill her yet. For all his criminal ventures and ruthlessness, Drake refused to kill people without a reason. It wasn't always a great reason, but he lived by it as a kind of moral code. His eyes narrowed as the girl spoke to him, being completely belligerent. There was no call for that attitude. He was simply exerting his right to find out why a stranger was following one of his men.<br>"You seem to be under the impression that I have some reason not to kill you for being here. And also a strange delusion it doesn't concern me. You're dead wrong girl. That man is a client of mine and anything that happens to him would set my business back for quite a long time. Now I ask again. Why are you following him?"<br>He withdrew the blade, enjoying the way the low light in the street danced mysteriously along the blade. He would indeed kill her if she proved to be a threat to him. Drake didn't care one way or another about her life. As far as he was concerned, she had already offered it to him by drawing his attention to her with her actions.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 02:03:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Kane estate in Sussex, 8:12 AM.</strong><br><br>He was very, very late. <br><br>Lucas was certain of that. This was his first time to London without Father Frollo since the man had always insisted on coming for personal reasons that he never revealed. Because of this, the young man was a bit lost due to the fact Father Frollo knew the roads better than him and his map reading skills were not his best skills that he was trained for. <br><br>It took him a good three hours running around, asking random strangers where this was or that before he realized that he was going in the wrong direction.<br><br>He was pushed and cursed at, nearly run over, propositioned by the streetwalkers and the prostitutes (he lectured them on the sins of that until they actually called the police him for being a 'another religious whackjob') and nearly got into an altercation with two drunk men in the busy streets of London. And almost got run over for that as well.<br><br>He yearned for the serenity Vatican after that ordeal had but calmed himself down enough to remember his mission at the moment. He couldn't complain or moan about it. It would do nothing at all. The Lord has done much and asked for so little. Could he not do the same as well for a little while? He tapped the cross he wore on his neck, asking for strength before continuing on.<br><br>The young man walked up to the gates of the Kane estate and stopped there, taking his time to feel the presence of faith in the Lord before attempting to let them know that he was here. It was a force of habit he has had ever since Father Frollo's death, just wishing to see what type of character and person he will meet and to be prepared better for events that will come to him. He closed his eyes, trying to find the faith and love for the Father.<br><br>There was none. He opened his eyes, wide in shock, and stared warily at the estate now as if it will come up and attack him. How could no one believe in the Lord? Having been raised in the Vatican all his life, exposed to God and religion nearly everyday for the past twenty four years, it perplexed and befuddled him to no end.<br><br>There he was again! Complaining. He shook his head, mad at himself for being such an ingrate like this. If these people know something about the girl, he would be more than happy to talk to them. Besides, it wasn't in his right to pry into their matters or view of God. All he could do is pray for them after this was over. Now... how does he knock? He had a feeling knocking on the iron bars wasn't the most sane of choices.<br><br>"Hello?" Lucas called out, looking for something that will let him know that he was here. He saw a rope that hung nearby him and wondered if that was what he should touch. He tugged on it in experimentation, and did it a few more times for good measure. "Hello? It is I, Lucas Carpenter. I'm here for the... ah, conversation you wish to have with him that we conversed earlier before."<br><br>He stood back and waited, touching <em>Fides</em> which was in its' scabbard for comfort. The broadsword glowed and hummed warmth and protection, making him fell at peace. <br><br>For five months, it was almost <em>Fides</em> alone that gave him the will to live and to continue on after Father Frollo's brutal murder. He had almost lost hope when he had learned in the hospital, being treated for burn wounds, that the Vatican were planning to cover the murder of Father Frollo up like the others had done.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 02:46:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Kane estate in Sussex, the front gate</strong><br><br>Three men appeared to greet Lucas, two had the worn clothing and bearing of groundskeepers. All three moved with the care of men used to sudden bouts of violence, and the leader looked a bit like a nobleman himself.<br><br>"Good morning Mr. Carpenter, Miss Kane is expecting you. Or rather, she has put your name on the list of folk to be admitted. My name is Reginald Hightower." His eyes looked Lucas over carefully, lingering over the scabbard and it's contents. "She knows better than to try and part you from that, but till we know your reasons for coming here, she has asked token in return." He held up a length of burgundy ribbon. "She asked that you peace bind <em>Fides</em> into it's scabbard. The Vatican and the Kane family haven't always had an.. amiable relationship." He says dryly. Behind him the sound of gunfire is heard, distant echos of a pistol being fired on the other side of the main house.<br><br><strong>The gardens</strong><br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i741.photobucket.com/albums/xx51/Calliedelnoire/Elizabeth_AWE_promo.jpg)</div>Selene continued to fire the pistol, trying it out first slowly firing with care before spinning to one side to fan the hammer and put the rounds into the targets along the hedge. She slowly opened the cylinder and freed the rounds in it out. She wanted to fire one of the nine rounds that had come with it but she had no more luck decrypting how they were made than the gun itself. She set the gun back in it's case and started finishing the letter as she cleaned the gun and put it away in it's case.<br><br><em>...<br>I have examined the Colt extensively, as well as the remaining bullets. They are silver and inscribed with the numbers one through nine, and if the other four were as potent as these, I would say that Samuel's claim was indeed true. This is a weapon that can kill nearly any being you cross paths with. The enchantments aren't replicable, as I do not fully understand what other role the gun serves. With time, I could possible do something to extend the bullets past the thirteen round limit but I seriously doubt it could be done till the other purpose is served. I am returning the gun to you as agreed and suggest you take care with the remaining rounds with the utmost care. This is indeed a weapon of importance, one of the few that I have been privileged to handle. </em><br><br>She finished the letter and sealed it, sliding it into the case with the gun. She closed the case and wrapped a black ribbon with silver threading in it around the case till all four corners were wrapped and she knotted the ribbon into place and set a wax tablet on the knot. She put her hand to the seal as she spoke several words to set the Fenris Chain in place. Once the spell was in place no one but the named person on the seal could open it without great effort.&nbsp; She heard Hightower approach as she finished the spell. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 03:07:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Kane estate in Sussex, the front gate</strong><br><br>He was surprised by the sudden appearance of the three men, wondering where they had come from. He bowed in reply at the sight of them, hoping that this will be a good start of something.<br><br>"Hello Mister Hightower," the blonde greeted. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm honored that Miss Kane is willing to see me and has put me into her approved list."<br><br>Lucas blinked and frowned, touching the hilt of his broadsword when he was asked to tie <em>Fides</em> to its' scabbard for the remaining time during his visit at the estate. As if deciding if he'll really do that in return for a conversation. Finally, he nodded and said he'll comply. "Of course, I'm more than happy to do so. We are all friends here after all, no?"<br><br>He took the ribbon and tied the scabbard and sword, feeling awkward now that he didn't have the ability to use <em>Fides</em> in case for anything. But he needed to believe in the Lord, since He wouldn't let anything happen to his children. To show that he wasn't trying to lie or find a loophole in this agreement, he tied it with the Devil's Tongue knot and tugged on it, hard, to show that it wouldn't fall out easily. <br><br>It didn't, the ribbon staying on the scabbard. Keeping the scabbard and broadsword together.<br><br>"Is this better for Miss Kane?" Lucas asked the three men, smiling at them to attempt to show he didn't mean any harm. Truly, he didn't. He just wanted to see what kind of information and task Miss Kane had. "I-"<br><br>He heard gunshots from the other side of the house, looking up and raising his eyebrows in surprise at the sounds. But he said nothing, simply keeping his opinion to himself on that sudden event. "May I see Miss Kane now? I wish to talk to her soon concerning about some private matters," he asked politely.<br><br>Without a word, he was lead to the gardens.<br><br><strong>The gardens</strong><br><br>He walked to the gardens, and saw the woman there. She looked to be his age, though he wasn't sure if she was either older and elder than him. All he could make out was that she held a letter in her hand and was muttering something under his breathe.<br><br>"Hello Miss Kane," he said to her when he approached her close enough. Smiling warmly at her as he bowed in greeting, hoping to make a good impression. "It is an honor to meet you at this fine day. I thank you for seeing me today."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 03:37:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Kane Estate Gardens.</strong><br><br>Selene looked up from her working, her eyes glancing down at the sword on the man's hip. She looked to be around twenty one or so and clearly cared nothing for the fashion women were supposed to wear. She was dressed in a style that if it hadn't been for her curves would have made some think her a brigand or highwayman. She handed the pistol case to Hightower, who leaned in to whisper something to her. <br><br>"This goes to the vault till Mr. Carpenter's man comes to take it back to the States." She said, her eyes never leaving Lucas' face. She was clearly looking for something as her man took the case and walked away, the groundskeepers withdrawing from earshot. "And have a pot of coffee sent out here." She seemed to take a bit of mischievous pleasure at the instruction.<br><br>She motioned for Lucas to walk with her as she headed towards a small gazebo to one side. She looked over at the sword on his hip.<br><br>"It's not everyday I get to see three weapons of power in one day." She observed as she tapped the ornately carved staff she carried with her. It was a strange wood that seemed to drink in the light around it, and oozed an unspoken hint of power. "I haven't seen that blade in a long while. I'm sorry to hear about Frollo.." She stopped as if to correct herself before continuing. "He and my .. family sometimes clashed over things in the past but we both served the purpose of the Lord in our intent." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 04:03:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lucas nodded at the young woman's greetings and agreed to take a walk with her. He couldn't help but feel leery at her. He didn't mind her age or her clothing, but it was rather the staff and the magic he felt coming from her form. A powerful, steady pulse that was both confident and strong.<br><br>He was rather apprehensive of the intricate staff she carried, his first encounter with powerful magic a bad one. But he knew better to look bias against the magic, reminding himself not all things were the same and evil is simply how you abuse the gifts His Lord bestowed.<br><br>But still...<br><br>He stayed mostly quiet as they headed for the gazebo, his face neutral and peaceful... until Miss Kane mentioned Frollo. His face twisted into grief and rage for a few seconds, before he pulled himself together and simply pursed his lips together in an attempt to keep a sight to himself.<br><br>"I thank you for your condolences," he said, smiling a bit. "Father Frollo was a good man and did not... deserve to go the way he did. He raised me when I was orphaned and is the sole reason why I am here today. He is the reason why I am even here, if I can be honest Miss Kane. I wish to avenge his unwarranted death somehow."<br><br>Lucas stopped walking and looked at her, hearing her comment about <em>Fides</em>. "You have seen <em>Fides</em>?" Lucas asked, surprised as he touched the sword of unconscious emphasis. He did not think anyone else knew of it, since it was personal gift from Father Frollo when he was knighted into the Order. "When?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 04:17:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"In another lifetime." Selene says wryly. "I know of it, and it passed thru the families hands for a while. Solomon Kane supposedly passed it to member of the Church when he was on his death bed. Claimed he was told to do so by an angel. Micheal if the family legend is to believed. Said it wasn't our burden and duty to have." She shrugged. "The Kane family hasn't always gotten on well with the folk in Rome. We have clashed, as the interests of Rome and the Crown haven't always been aligned."<br><br>She sat down and tapped her staff on the floor of the gazebo. She looked at him carefully. She had heard something of the murders going on, but sadly as a woman she didn't have the contacts that Jacob Kane had held with the Church.<br><br>"Tell me what your problem is, I am on a hunt myself. It was delayed many years," Her mind flashed back fifteen years, a night of pure terror as she put her talents to the test. Her hand tightened as she pushed the dark night away. "The hunt has been long and difficult. Frollo was one of the few that would talk to me."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 04:30:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Oh, he was the Solomon Father Frollo talked of," Lucas said, realization dawning on him. It could explain why Father Frollo apparently knew the Kanes then. The deceased priest had always claimed he has had it in his family's possession for years when it was given to them by a 'Solomon'. "He talked warmly of the man, though I doubt he knew him."<br><br>He looked away when the Crown and Church was mentioned, sighing. He wasn't new to this type of situation, remembering many times his missions were compromised or force to finish quickly due to this or that from this person or that person. It could be irritating.<br><br>"Two parties of interests will always forever clash on things," he said to her, touching the broadsword as if remembering something unpleasant. He remembered the scuffle over him being giving <em>Fides</em> in the first place, remembering how some of the people wanted it back in London and how the Vatican were refusing. They were still fighting over it if he bothers to check in on the political nature of Church every once and a while.<br><br>"Father Frollo was open to all," he said. "He believed in the best of people and was happy to help in anyway that could. He believed in forgiveness and second chances, forever citing the Prodigal Son as his favorite. It... it was his downfall in the end, sadly. That... that wi... that <em>person</em> killed him when he was defending her."<br><br>He was lost in his own, selfish thoughts until he bothered to look at her and saw her as she spoke. Lucas felt empathy for the woman when he saw the way she tightened her hand on the staff, as if holding onto something real and not something no longer real. He's been doing that for the past few months. He smiled at her in hopes of giving her some form of comfort. <br><br>"I'm glad Father Frollo's legacy of good deeds still lives on," he says. "Tell me, what is this hunt you're having? I am more than happy to help with it along with the task you wish to give me."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 05:16:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Only someone who didn't meet him could speak nicely of the first Lord Kane. Solomon Kane was a puritan, a witchfinder and generally a very nasty man to cross. He wandered the world putting down evil with a sword and gun." She hefted the staff. "This is one of the things he found. Supposedly he was given it by a medicine man to help him fight an evil sorcerer."<br><br>She looked around, her fingers drumming over carved cat's head. Clearly she was mulling over what to tell him. The matter at hand was evidently personal and long going. She had been hunting her quarry for fifteen years, that would have her starting her hunt when she was around six or so. <br><br>"The name of my foe is Ephraim Waite, though I doubt he goes by that name at the moment. He's a body theif, and I know for a fact that he's at least five centuries old. He told me that when he tried to take this." She tapped the staff again. "It didn't like him." She smiled grimly as she recalled the cat's head growl being heard as he threw it aside. <br><br>"He threw a massive spell at us when he realized he had revealed himself for what he really was." She stopped as Hightower escorted one of the house girls up with a tray. She quickly placed the tray on the table and withdrew, bowing to her with a muttered 'your ladyship' to Selene before dashing off after the withdrawing Hightower. Only after they were out of earshot did Selene continue. <br><br>"I was the only one in the family that the staff would accept. When he cast his spell, he called something.. dark and fell." She paused for a moment to pour a pair of drinks, sliding one to Lucas. "There are things, dark and fell that predate us. Afterbirth of creation you could call them. Shadows of reality that dwell outside the early realm. He called one into my home. It unmade many things and people in our house in Massachusetts.&nbsp; When I finally cast it back into the eternal dark, we had to burn the house ruins. It was .. indescribable the malice that thing held. I've been tracking him ever since."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 06:24:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"A man who tries to do the Lord's work is still a good man deep down," Lucas said, though he didn't truly believe his words. Most likely it was one of Father Frollo's sayings. "An interesting history of your staff, Miss Kane. It certainly explains the power and energy I feel from it at the moment."<br><br>He tilted his head when he heard the story, dimly recalling what a body thief was during his lessons and studies under the Vatican. "Nasty piece of work, body thieves are," he commented, making a face when he remembered one part of information he did remember. <br><br>Apparently, stealing the body could be... painful for the person. Easy for the invader but painful for the victim. Very painful. If those illustrations in his old study books were right... "Generally soulless, if I recall correctly. May I ask why he was after your staff and not the other items your family possibly have?"<br><br>He set his jaw when he heard the rest of the story, looking angry at the destruction one man made against an entire family for one item. "And you wish to find him to exact revenge or pay him equal in his deeds then? I can understand that, Miss Kane. Very much."<br><br>"Now, before I help," he said, frowning a bit. "I need to ask first the task you ask of me to do. It is the reason why I am here. While I love to help, I am still human. A human with needs. And one of them is curiosity of knowledge. Especially anything considering Caroline Richardson."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 07:03:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Selene smiled, a wry knowing smile, as she holds it up. <br><br>"It's hard to track how far back it goes, but it was given to a king as gift from a visiting queen. He was a man of impressive wisdom and power, the binder of many evils in the world. Her name is sadly lost to the mists of history, but the king's isn't. It is called the Staff of Solomon, and not for my ancestor." She nodded. "The theft of your body, the tearing of a soul from it's home and hearth and cramming it into another is.. trying. One doubts their own mind. You cannot begin to describe what it feels like. It leaves scars." She sips her coffee with a shaky hand. "At least the manner Ephraim uses. There are other methods, but they require different methods. Sorcery is tricky, Ephraim's mentor was a cultist of a particularly dark ilk. The templars put most of the cult to the sword, but he slipped away and has been cultivating small groups over most of Europe. I recovered a book that belong to him and have set about&nbsp; deciphering it since I got my hands on it."<br><br>She sipped her coffee again as she mulled over the question that he asked to her. <br><br>"I know a little of this Richardson woman, but not much. She's a apostate nun is she not? One who turned the witchcraft if I'm <br>not mistaken." She tapped the staff on the floor of the Gazebo. "If Frollo's murder was part of the cycle, she's doing some sort of compact but I'd need to know what she did and where, possibly when."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 07:18:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Nasty work, that man is." His voice was hesitant when he used the word 'man' because is that monster, someone who used others for their own benefit and caused grief truly a human still? If only Father Frollo was here... "Ah... the Staff of Solomon itself, I remember it. I didn't recognize it. A very, very powerful item."<br><br>"The sword? As in <em>Fides</em>?" He didn't know that. All that he knew of the broadsword was that in the true iron, pure iron from the earth itself and made with the elements naturally, was that is it possibly has one of the nails from the Cross in it. "I did not know that part. To be honest, I do not know a lot from this sword. Father Frollo gave it to me as a gift for becoming a Knight Templar."<br><br>Lucas sipped his drink, looking at her shaking hand with some concern. "What is the language that it is in? I know a few people in the Vatican that know how to translate and decipher hidden language. They owe me a few favors and I'm more than happy to use of those favors for your benefit."<br><br>He closed his eyes, feeling a bit angry that he had to recall the memories but desperate for answers. "You must promise not to tell anyone else, or I shall be in trouble for telling you sensitive information."<br><br>"She killed a priest in every major country," he started to explain. "She would correspond it the elements. For earth, she would bury them alive. For water, she would drown them. For air, she punctured their lungs. For fire... she... she burned them to death. She would do it again and again after that."<br><br>"From what I can tell," he said, looking away, trying not to look upset. "Was that Father Frollo was her final victim. After him, she stopped doing it and has been simply doing demon summonings, spell casting and all that. Father Frollo was burned alive. I... I don't know how she did it though, I was passed out."<br><br>He hung his head, feeling shame filling him up but he touched <em>Fides</em> desperately, trying to calm himself. "Does that help you in anyway?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 08:54:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The blade flashed in the low light and I felt a sliver of real fear, he wasn't a man to play with, or one I could easily twist around my finger. Maybe I shouldn't have followed boss but I didn't regret it in the least. He spoke of the boss again referring to his as a client making any hesitation about drawing a line between the two disappear.<br><br>I folded my legs underneath me, twirled my fingers aimlessly, and smiled lightly, "In perfect honesty I followed Boss to see if what was being said about him was true. It drives me a little crazy not knowing the truth about things, so when the opportunity arose to find out the truth I took it without hesitation and now I sit here before the answer to all the questions." I said smiling lightly as if all we were talking about was the weather.<br><br>"Will you kill me over my curiosity?" I asked lightly but my actions bellying the lightness in my tone as I stilled completely and raised my violet eyes to stare heedlessly at him as if searching his face for something illusive.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rukio</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 09:22:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Drake's honey colored eyes flashed dangerously when she looked into them. She dared to talk to him as though she was in no danger. She did have courage. He'd give her that, but she also had a complete lack of discipline that drove him mad. He may be able to salvage her though. He raised the knife to his face, holding it in front of his eye. Then, with a movement that was much faster than any normal man, he was right in front of the raven haired girl, his blade at her throat. The fact that she hadn't even moved yet was testament to just how fast he'd moved. It wasn't human, but.... Then again. Drake wasn't exactly human anymore either. He was far more than a mere human. His coat fluttered slightly in the breeze as did his hair. He glared at the girl from under a heavily knotted brow, searching her eyes for some trace of humility. If he found it he might be able to use her.<br>"You call Mouse your boss. And yet you follow him from our meeting as though you're a spy. And you ask me if I'd kill you for curiosity? If you think you know who I am, then you know I've killed far more powerful people for far less that that. Now you will answer another question of mine. What kind of jobs does Mouse have you do for him? They can't be tracking. You're too obvious about it. What do you do in The Brotherhood?"<br>Drake still heald the knife at her throat. It's blade perfectly still in his hand.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 09:45:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As Veronica drew closer she got a better look at the man with the knife, and was surprised to note that she had seen him before.&nbsp; They had never talked or met face to face, but she knew of him.&nbsp; She caught a few snippets of conversation, hearing enough to know that he intended to kill the woman if she could not provide him with a compelling reason not to.&nbsp; There we're several options for the half vampire to take.&nbsp; It was truly none of her business if he did kill her so she could simply continue on.&nbsp; She didn't like that option very much, due in large part to what had happened to her mother the night she had been raped and murdered.&nbsp; Though it was true that she did not know the full story the situation before felt similar.&nbsp; When she saw him move and so that the tip of his blade was at the woman's throat Veronica had her answer, she would act, to prevent a senseless death.&nbsp; <br><br>She moved swiftly, and silent as a gentle breeze through the shadows.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her speed was impressive and in but the blink of an eye she was behind the man her hand gripping the wrist with the knife. "Hmmmmmm, don't you know its rude to point a knife at lady?" Veronica asked coyly as she wrapped her other arm around his neck not enough to cut off his air, but enough to restrain.&nbsp; Her voice was pleasant almost nonchalant, though she did flah her teeth duller than a full vampire but much sharper than a humans.&nbsp; &nbsp;"I assume you have good reason."&nbsp; Her tone indicated that she doubted it, but for all she knew he might.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 12:01:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I don't work for him persay. I'm not in 'the brotherhood'" I said with a&nbsp; sigh. The knife at my throat was alarming but when compared to the rest of my past nothing very new. If I could learn to play nice and keep my mouth shut maybe I'd stop having my life threatened but it just wasn't in the cards for me it seemed. I didn't bother to move away from the cold metal knowing it would just cause him to lean forward pressing the blade in deeper drawing my blood and being a merely gifted human I didn't like the idea of being nicked by the dangerous blade.<br><br>"I guess I should explain, my names Lexie and the man is know as Boss around my camp and he brings me people some times, to learn things." I considered leaving it vague but it seemed a bit pointless, I didn't know why Boss hadn't told him probably because he wanted all the credit but it mattered little. "I see the truth of things, I don't know how else to say it. If you lie to me I know it, if you hide something I will see it anyway." I shrugged. "Boss brings people to me he thinks are traitors I think and asks them a single question and then pays me to find out if the answer was truthful or not."<br><br>I finished rambling and brushed a bit of hair out of my eyes and realized he was still staring at me. It was a bit unnerving like he was searching for something. I had a sudden empathy for the people I stare at but just smiled slightly no wonder so many people think I'm weird. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>26-09-2010, 20:15:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Kane estate, the gardens</strong><br><br>"It's not the language per se that is the problem. It's a margin cipher. He used three books to lock his locations. After my.. misadventures last night, I have the key tome I need. All that remains is figuring out his patterns." Selene sipped her coffee <br>as she mulled over how to explain how she knew. "Ephraim is a very.. regimented mind. He works on great plans, but he has several sanctums and archives he uses. Massive stores of wealth, power and grimoires." <br><br><em>Indeed he does, my Lady</em> Selene spins to see a massive cat balancing on the edge of the gazebo's railing. A blank one that seems more feral than evil, something that radiated a sense of cold to it. <em>Greetings, Lady of the Courts. I bear tidings from my Lady, my Queen and their counterparts. Last night you used the gifts of Summer to your own ends. They wish an accounting. Was this in pursuit of the Usurper? And why are you dallying with a Knight of the Sword? Has your fast finally ended?</em> The cat's emerald green eyes lock on the man in question. Selene looked to the cat with a grimace of distaste.<br><br>"Graymalkin, mind your tongue. I know you are Winter's mouthpiece but you risk much in taunting me. Yes, I used the gifts given to me by ..my blood sisters." She said with a glance over to Lucas. "I have something of Waite's now and I am working on undoing the cipher as fast I can." Graymalkin's eyes sparkle.<br><br><em>Ah, good. The Queens will be pleased that their blood sister is being properly arduous in her hunt. Winter will be pleased if you find another target for the Hunt, Innsmouth was such a wonderful start to their campaign. </em> With that the great cat slinked along the railing and leaped towards Lucas, vanishing before it could reach him. <em>Best be careful Knight of Fides, she is greatly loved by both Summer and Winter. Hurt her at peril of your mortal soul.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rukio</strong> on <strong>27-09-2010, 08:31:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Drake's eyes flashed again, for some reason they looked a deep crimson this time, but then the look turned to one of surprise as he turned, breaking Veronica's grip on his neck. It was that woman he kept seeing all over. How was it possible for her to just be there now? Or was she following him? That couldn't be true. Nobody could even see him if he didn't want them to. And she was strong too. He'd almost not been able to break her hold on him. His wrist was still caught in her grip, but no longer was the blade of his knife pressed against Lexie's throat. He glared furiously at this new woman whom he hadn't even noticed until she had him in her grasp. She must be at least part vampire. He would have seen or heard anything else move. What was she doing here? How could she even see him? And why did she dare to interfere? His voice came out almost a snarl of rage. He really didn't like being surprised.<br>"Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? What could a vampire such as yourself be doing here right now?"<br>He wrenched his arm from her grip, moving a few steps back in less time than it took to blink. She was very strong. Even for a vampire. Drake would know. He'd killed a few in the past. This one seemed to be less pure than some others he'd met. She had a scent about her that spoke of a half breed heritage. For once, Drake figured he'd take the more cautious road in a conflict situation though. He raised his hands slowly and slid the dagger back into its sheath. Then he slowly pulled his hand out of his pocket and let it fall to his side. He was itching to reach into his coat and draw something more deadly than the dagger from it, but didn't. His voice was back to its smooth, friendly sound again now as he spoke again.<br>"For your information, Miss, I was simply trying to find out why Lexie here was following a client of mine. My methods are overly cautious sometimes. It's a habit of decades I'm afraid."<br>He narrowed his eyes scanning the woman's movements. He was sure the girl was no threat to him, but the woman was an entirely different matter. She could be a real problem if she wanted to be.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>27-09-2010, 09:10:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				This man was no ordinary human of that Veronica was positive.&nbsp; His strength was a dead give away to her.&nbsp; No normal person could have broken her grip the way he had unless she had wanted him too.&nbsp; If he was to be an enemy to her, it would be very foolish for her to underestimate him.&nbsp; Strong though she was, she knew that their we're creatures with greater power than her own who could kill her in the blink of an eye if they we're of a mind to.&nbsp; She didn't think this strange man whom she had seen many time before was of that caliber of strength but it would not be an easy fight for her either.&nbsp; For now it seemed like he was willing to talk, but her muscles remained tensed to spring at a moments notice should she need to defend herself.&nbsp; She watched him as he slide the dagger back into its sheath.&nbsp; "No, to tell you the truth I don't have any idea who you are, though I have seen you a few times before now," Veronica replied conversationally a slight edge to her voice.&nbsp; "As for what I'm doing here now, I was simply passing though on my way to visit my mother...."&nbsp; He voice broke an octave and then she controlled herself.&nbsp; "I saw you threatening her." she indicated to Lexie.&nbsp; "I'm not fond of those who bully women mister....."&nbsp; her tone was subtly threatening<br><br>Not taking her eyes off Drake she spoke to Lexie.&nbsp; "Are you alright?"&nbsp; she asked her.&nbsp; "He didn't hurt you did he?'&nbsp; She was sure that he the dagger had not punctured the skin.&nbsp; She would have smelled the blood if it had and yet it never hurt to check.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>27-09-2010, 11:05:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm perfectly fine" I said unfolding my legs and hopped down, stretching slightly as if the whole occurrence had been completely boring. "But thank you for your assistance..." I looked at her closely for a moment before smiling lightly, "Veronica. I owe you a debt of gratitude, the whole life threatening things is getting very old." I said tossing a look at Drake that was a mix of annoyance and amusement.<br><br>I smiled lightly as I looked at our little group gathered in some back ally behind a vender's set up. I knew there were other people as diffrent as I myself was I just ad never met anyone not normal before. Meet two in one day was extremely exciting, but it just didn't seem the time to try to have a light conversation with either of them. I half wondered if they were about to fight or something equally as counter productive. <br><br>Taking a deep breath I focused on drake and with much more focus then required for Veronica I found his name. "I'm sorry if I alarmed you following Boss, Drake. My only intention was to satisfy a bit of my curiosity not to cause problems though honestly I gave little thought to what the consequences of my actions might be." I said with a slight smile as if to say it was a common enough occurrence.&nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>27-09-2010, 12:30:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Kane estate, the gardens</strong><br><br>Lucas was about to say he knew someone that could help her in the deciphering when Graymalkin came out of nowhere and had his conversation with the woman. He watched it all with a passive face, even when the cat leaped at him as if to attack or seriously maim him. When he was certain the cat was gone, he leaned forward a bit to look Selene better in the eye.<br><br>"Sisters?" Lucas said, cocking one of his eyebrows in reply to what the large cat had said to him after it had disappeared from thin air. He didn't seem fazed or scared by the cat's appearance, as if used to being threatened and warned by spirits from the Courts that could kill him with a single thought or a wave of hand. "I see... you're related to the Fae then? Father Frollo said he knew people of great interest and it looks like he was telling the truth."<br><br>He gave a polite smile at the end of those words, though they didn't reach his blue eyes. The young man&nbsp; leaned into his chair, sipping the drink quietly as he took the information in. His stomach rolled, wondering how the animal (Graymalkin, correct?) knew that he had <em>Fides</em>. Don't tell him that Father Frollo knew the faeries as well.<br><br>"How on earth are you related to them?" Lucas asked, honestly sincere in his questions. "Graymalkin mentioned blood sisters... is that possible? Or is it some odd term of endearment that the Fae use for themselves and others? And, I apologize if this seems rude, but can I know if the information I gave to you about the murders... help me in anyway?"<br><br>Then, he felt <em>Fides</em> hum. Actually hum and suddenly jerk towards the north, where Selene was sitting. The Knight Templar cried out, crashing against the table when that happened and only stopped there when he braced himself. He was pale now, but not from the broadsword's sudden movements, but from the meaning why.<br><br>"That witch is doing it again!" Lucas growled, spitting the word 'witch' out as if it was a curse. "I... I knew coming here was a mistake! Somewhere now, she's using the innocent while I'm just dallying away. Argh!" He smashed his hand against the table, nearly cracking it, as he attempted to control his temper.<br><br>He stepped away, fixing himself with shaking hands. "I'm sorry Ms. Kane... it's just while I do know little of Caroline Richardson, I still know things about her. And all the facts are not pleasant..." He looked up, his eyes hard and cold now as his hand on the hilt of <em>Fides</em> was in a death grip. "Tell me, Ms. Kane. Do you know the Ceremony of <em>Mihi quod Mihi Unus</em>? If you do, that is what she is doing right now. And unless I know what she wants, she'll keep doing it again and again."<br><br><strong>Meanwhile, in New York at the same time Lucas and Selene were talking...</strong><br><br>What was happening in the cellar shouldn't be happening. It should only exist in only the most twisted of daydreams or the most horrifying of nightmares. It should not be seen in the real world or the world of the supernatural, but only seen in the privacy and make believe of one's soul and mind in a deep, dark corner.<br><br>But it was here. Real, tangible and horrific.<br><br>In the dark, made more ominous with the few lit candles here and there, there a group of women and men there. All of them young and having the look of homeless children. The lost and the ones no one will ever care for. Dressed in tatters and in their own filth. In their hands were large goblets filled filled with a dark, sludgy material that they eagerly consumed to the last drop. Without a thought, they threw the goblets against the walls and screamed with unearthly delight as the glass shattered.<br><br>They started to dance, stripping their clothing and the clothing of others off while doing so. Their eyes were sleepy and heavy and their cries, shrieks and howls sounded too high and pitch to be the work of a concise person. When their clothing was all stripped off, it showed marks and cuts, still bleeding even, as they fell to the ground and made love on the dirty, debris covered floor. Moans and cries filling the room as the group started an orgy.<br><br>In the corner of the rooms, stones glowed and so did the wall. A steady, low white than a bloody red. <br><br>A woman's voice could be heard over the sound of sex, chanting Latin fluidly. She wore a scarlet dress that flowed around her, matching her scarlet ringlets as she threw her head back and chanted louder and louder, her eyes milky white now. Along with the woman, there was a makeshift altar in the center of the room the woman. Made from a large slab of stone with a dark cloth draped over it. On it were withered roses and what looked like stains of fluids. <br><br>And on the makeshift altar was a man, who was sadly clear of mind in this nightmarish scene that he was part of. Bound to the stone with barbed wire by his wrists and ankles, he could only look on at the woman as he struggled and cried for help. The people ignored him, continuing to shriek consummate one another as if he didn't exist.<br><br>"<em>Mihi quod Mihi Unus</em>," the woman said, looking down at him now. Her pure white eyes and red clothing and hair made him think of the Devil and her actions now only confirmed it. Especially as she raised the dagger she held higher and higher into the air, pointed at his chest. The man screamed, sobbing as he begged her to not kill him. That he had a wife and two children to feed and that no one will help them if-<br><br>The woman knew no mercy. She brought it down in a sure, swift motion. Striking in the very middle of his chest and dragged it down. The man twitched and gurgled out blood, watching her with dimming vision reach down as she pulled out his heart and raise it to the air.<br><br>Caroline Richardson smiled as the blood splattered on her skin, feeling her dark magic come back and the curse she was forced to have slowly wither away from her soul. She took out her tongue, swallowing the blood that landed on her tongue. She felt herself become lighter, stronger. She was restored. She tossed the heart away like it was trash, looking at the orgy before her with an arrogant smirk. With a wave of her hand and a sound from her lips, she commanded them to go to sleep and they did.<br><br>She was left alone now in the room awake. The smells of blood, dust, decay, bodily fluids and candles surrounding her like a wonderful, intoxicating perfume her mother used to wear. She took a deep breathe, enjoying the moment when she felt someone tap her bare shoulder.<br><br>"Someone," the person said behind her in velvety voice, "seems to be having fun at the moment. Like the spellbook I <em>loaned</em> to you?"<br><br>The redhead turned, smiling at the tall and handsome man dressed in resplendent clothing that was colored dark but, at the same time, seem to shimmer and twinkle. She felt her heart race as she looked at him, knowing well what was truly under that mask of a handsome person. The man who showed her the light. The one she gave herself to and still has been. The man who gave her a choice. Both blessed and cursed her at the same time. <br><br>She touched the spellbook (http://www.spellboundsupplies.co.uk/WebRoot/GroupNBT/Shops/fw57jr6ak63g/4A59/C62F/9EE4/CE70/B136/0A0A/33E7/B124/leather_bos.JPG) as it lay on the altar. The pages open to the ceremony she had just performed mere seconds ago. "Why yes, I am enjoying it my dear. And why did you say loan to me? Did I not fulfill my end of the bargain five months ago?"<br><br>"You did," he said, reaching out with a gloved hand to caress her cheek. Shivers running up and down her spine. "But I clearly told you that it was for a limited time. While I admire your work, you need to give me more than just sacrifices dear."<br><br>"Maybe this?" Caroline said, holding up the dagger casually. "I'm more than happy to trade this dinky little thing for that lovely spellbook of yours."<br><br>"<em>Dubium</em>," the man whispered in awe, surprised for once in his long, long lifetime. He stared at the dagger she presented to him, as if not expecting its' presence at all. It hummed and vibrated with power, fueled by the actions that were happening around it. The man took the dagger from her hand, admiring the true iron it was made from. "One of the weapons made in retaliation of the Virtue Weapons. Especially the blasted <em>Fides</em> and <em>Spero</em>. It was supposed to have been destroyed over a hundred years ago during the... I... how... how on earth did you find it?"<br><br>Caroline Richardson, former nun, witch and murderer, smiled as she said, "A gift. From Frollo."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>27-09-2010, 18:12:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Kane estate, the gardens</strong><br><br>Selene help up her left hand, a pair of barely seen scars were seen in the morning like. One seemed to be a faint line of blue and the other was a much more golden tone to it. Each crossed her hand and the end points met just above her wrist. They were of equal length but didn't quite meet. <br><br>"Graymalkin is a faerie. That means he doesn't lie, but he can leave out things. I'm not of the courts, but I'm a 'sister' by a blood oath to both the Queens. I stepped in many years ago and stopped Ephraim from seizing the power of both queens. It had been a plan of his taking the better part of two centuries in planning and dozens of spells and rites to trap them at the point that both are at their most vulnerable. The changing of seasons when one court is waning and the other is starting to climb to primacy." She closed her eyes as she recalled that battle. It was trying and terrifying. She had spent six years with the aid of her family to find him in time. A desperate spell got her to the place she needed to be. A small girl in the middle of the elemental forces of the two courts. A less foolhardy person would have brought allies or had a plan. She was still full of fury at her loss and a thirst for vengeance.<br><br>"The courts, both of them, owed me a boon. You cannot imagine the implication. The two queens.. Summer and Winter, owing a MORTAL a debt in front of both of their full forces." Selene smiled wryly. "I came out of that fight with Ephraim with one clear fact. He was a more powerful sorcerer, with centuries of experience and bargains. I could mortgage my soul and gain the power to match his, but it would be power without knowledge. Or vice versa. And my soul wouldn't be mine, which would put me at a disadvantage. So I demanded to be made a 'sister' of both courts. A blood oath."<br><br>Selene stopped talking for a moment as she sipped her coffee for long moments.<br><br>"A sharing of blood, power and purpose. I was to be the hound for their hunt, the one that they would use to run Ephraim to ground since he had planned for any other tool of either court. A wild card he couldn't have seen coming." She turned back to him. "Me. I'm the one weapon each Queen cannot use against the other. The bridge between each court. There are only two mortals who bear the power of the Faerie Courts, aside from me, and they are beholding to the Queens of that court. I'm the only being who is blessed by both." Her smile takes a sardonic grin as she says that. "I gained a lot from my oath, two powerful fonts of knowledge and power. I also have to account to two masters. Every time I use one of my gifts of power, they send someone to ask what I have been doing. Was it in pursuit of the Usurper? What news of him do I have? The Queens are powerful, long lived and about as patient as a mayfly."<br><br>She turns as the sword reacts. Her hand tightening around the head of her staff as he mentions the witch Lucas was hunting was casting a spell that tied to him somehow. She knew the Knights of the Swords were touched in ways no other were. As the crusading arm of the Lord, they were driven by His Will like no others. She gestured for Hightower to come to the gazebo as he told her what was happening.<br><br>"Fetch my secure valise from the vault, and the <em>Maleficeum</em> from it's shelf. Put it in my study and telegraph the agents to find the best travel arrangements for our friend here. I'll be in the study. Tell the cook I need a lunch for us both, more coffee and privacy once I start my research." Turning back to Lucas, her face is serious. "Well it's like this, that sort of spell has to be cast at night, preferably starting or ending at midnight. It's safe to say given the time of day we're at, that she's not in the British Isles." <br><br>Selene gestured for Lucas to follow her and led the way into the house. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>27-09-2010, 18:34:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lucas thanked Selene as he entered the house with her, grateful for the woman's help. He truly was.<br><br>The power he felt from her alone was a comfort, since it seemed to be more powerful than the ones Caroline had in her claws. He hoped to bring down the fiendish woman once and for all. To stop the murders. To end the darkness. To end the nightmares...<br><br>The Knight recalled her story as he followed after the woman, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was the <em>Fortunatus Era</em> Father Frollo told to him at bedtime when he came back from his journey overseas. If he recalled correctly, <em>Fortunatus</em> was a woman that wield a staff of power and had magic in her own right.<br><br>Her story of the Summer and Winter Courts sounded awfully familiar to a story Father Frollo told to him once long ago, when he had just came back and he was both sunburned and freezing though it shouldn't have been possible at all. Weaving a wonderful and perilous journey of the woman trying to save the Courts from the The Man Who Walks In Darkness and ended up forever in the gratitude of the Courts that they left a special mark on her to show the world how special and great she was.<br><br>Though Selene's story was less glamorous and more dark... realistic.<br><br>He couldn't remember well sadly, and he could be mistaken. For all he knew, it could simply be his psyche desperately trying to find new connections to Father Frollo in an effort to fill the void of the dead priest. At least, that's what his friends back in the Vatican said two months after the murder.<br><br><em>Fides</em> gave a humming whine, a pitched wail as if in pain over something. He touched the hilt, trying to soothe the broadsword. Ever since his first encounter with Coraline, the weapon had been reacting like this ever since. He wondered if this was some sort of spell cast upon it, though he highly doubt it. The Pope would have felt it right away and demanded it to be destroyed.<br><br>"How on earth did your family require all of these items?" Lucas asked, looking at the Solomon Staff for example. "I can hardly believe that someone would just give it to them as presents or toss is their way if it was not pretty or new."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>27-09-2010, 19:22:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Kane Estate in the Study.</strong><br><br>Selene puts the staff by her desk as she sits down, shedding her jacket as she goes. The woman was completely comfortable in her simple blouse and pants that would have most of English society screaming scandal. She sat down and put up her feet on the desk as she motioned for Lucas to take a seat in an over stuffed chair nearby. <br><br>"You're not the only touched by destiny Lucas." She says simply. "I might not be a representative of the Lord, but the Kane family has done a great many deeds and been in the right place at the wrong time. In the aftermath of many of our encounters with the forces of evil, they are dead and we had been left to clean up. A lot of the things left behind aren't what you want the less than honorable to hold on to."&nbsp; She gestures around the room. "Librams, spellbooks, journals, and such are only part. Your sword came into our possession when it's owner was struck down in battle. Solomon Kane carried him to safety but he died before they could get to civilization. We usually are merely.. soldiers in battle." <br><br>"I am the first Kane to fully embrace the potential of what we are. I had to." She looked around before getting up to point at a bank of books. "I also made it a point to read through what happened to my family. There is a lot of blood and tears in the journals. You might know this, but I'm the last Kane directly descended from Solomon Kane. The rest of the family died out or fell in battles that only we were there for. Some for the folk at hand, others for this or that crusade, a few in service of the Crown, and no few in vengeance for our deeds.&nbsp; We've all be marked by our fate as a family that stands the line." <br><br>She looked over at her guest. She smiled, a bit maudlin but clearly trying to move past it. <br><br>"My apologies, I shouldn't be lingering over such things given you're in a similar situation." She returned to the desk and sat down as Hightower wheeled in a trunk and dropped a sealed case on the table. With a quick bow he withdrew. "Ah.. one of the few copies outside the Vatican's black library." She said as she picked up the bound book and snapped the seal. <br><br>"I am fairly sure your witch is in America, the spell being cast within the last hour means she is most likely in a time frame around midnight to a few hours after. She could be somewhere between New York and Chicago at a guess, possibly as far west as Denver. You're talking about half a continent. I don't suppose you've got something of hers with you?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>27-09-2010, 20:00:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lucas picked up Selene's jacket as she shed it onto the floor and tidied it into a nearby table he was walking pass by. He didn't mind her clothing. What he did mind was sloppiness though. Thanking her for letting him sit, he sat on the chair and nearly fell into the cushions and struggled to get back up. When he did, he manged to sit up in time to hear her explanation. It made sense in a way.<br><br>Contrived coincidence. <em>Chance artificiel</em>, as Father Frollo use to say to him when he had escaped certain death by a means that shouldn't have been possible at all for anybody else. Getting something when it shouldn't happen simply because you are there. The Kanes had a knack for it it seems and it showed now in their possessions and collections. Both good and bad. Nice to horrible. <br><br>They were simply those who survived something and had to make sure it didn't happen again because no one else would. An honorable but bitter mission, one that no one should be made to take but someone must for the sake of the millions and billions of others out there. At least the Kane family had each other... now though, as he looked at her, he sadly doubted that part of the rainbow. Pity. She was a nice girl.<br><br>"Tell me... when did Solomon Kane live?" Lucas asked, looking at Study with eyes taking in every detail. He heard of stories of how <em>Fides</em> came to be. Though they were usually mixed though, as most origins of fantastical things that shouldn't exist are. <br><br>The only story he believed in was Farther Frollo's version. Of how a lowly blacksmith was making weapons, a spear, a shield and a broadsword, in response to the cruel overlords of the lands he lived in. When the priest learned this, he simply gave the blacksmith three old nails to put into the true iron. He did, and suddenly came the angels. Proclaiming the weapons were now blessed with the virtues they were to be named after: Faith, hope and trust.<br><br>He snapped out of his daydream, looking at Selene as she continued to talk&nbsp; made a face when she asked if he had anything that belonged to her. "I don't have anything belonging to her sadly. And to be honest, I never tried. If there was anything I wanted from her, it would be her corpse..."<br><br>"I'm sorry," he said, blushing a bit. "I shouldn't be thinking such ill thoughts right now. I apologize for that. I don't have anything that belongs to her, like I said. Is there anything else that we could use perhaps? Like her Name or Secret if there is a possible chance that we know?"<br><br>He stopped himself, remembering a sickening detail. "Wait..." He touched his iron cross that he wore on her neck, carefully taking it off and handing it to her. "When she... she murdered Father Frollo, she took his clerical collar as some sort of... trophy and has been wearing it ever since. This is a gift from him. Will this do?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>27-09-2010, 20:30:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"He crossed the last years of the sixteenth century and the opening years of the next century." Selene says quietly. "When he was born, we're not exactly sure. Even today the family finds hints of his passing through a variety of locales. We know he moved across most of Europe, the British Isle and portions of Africa. There is more than a few hints that he was a sell sword or brigand who stumbled onto the path of Faith. Truth be told, we don't know much about Solomon besides he was hellishly hard to kill and picked up foes like a dog picks up fleas. He was a hard man and clearly was hard to love." <br><br>She takes the cross from Lucas and held it in her hand. She held it up to the light, turning it over to show the back. <br><br>"A simple cross of iron. Made in Tuscany by a simple blacksmith as a thank you to a traveling scholar and priest who had helped to save his daughter. He.. , and another, went into the hills overlooking the small village after an apostate priest who dabbled in things best left alone.&nbsp; They cornered the man and killed him, using a boarspear and silvered bullets. They crafted the weapons from the apostate's own altar goods after Frollo reblessed them. The man had been turned into a feral beast, ruled by a demon that followed the cycles of the moon. He had taken all the children of the village to turn them into an army to sweep over the province." Selene shook her head and smiled back. <br><br>"Your mentor was a solid man, resolute and firm when needed and kind and empathic as well."She set the cross down and closed her eyes, holding her hand over it. Chanting softly as she focuses her will. Iron was no friend of hers, she had to focus hard to 'sniff it'. She could feel the traces of the man that Lucas had gotten the cross from and focused on that. She held the power in place as she opened her eyes. <br><br>"There is a drawer over by the bar, in the third section there is box of oak. In it is a cross of similar make. Bring it to me but keep it wrapped in the felt it's in." She said as she returned to the spell at hand. Focusing hard to hold that trace of her departed friend.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>EroticWinged</strong> on <strong>28-09-2010, 13:10:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“How do you feel, Emma?” Mistress V was asking one of her favorites.&nbsp; But there was no hint of favoritism or bias, only the unmistakable note of concern.<br><br>Emma Place sighed heavily, then drew a long, slow breath, as though the effort of making the vampire’s corpse disappear had somehow drained her.&nbsp; “Okay, I guess,” she allowed, at length.&nbsp; “I can’t believe I did it,” she added for good measure.<br><br>“Sit down.&nbsp; Rest,” Virginia said to the girl as she turned to rap on the door.&nbsp; Hale, who had been ‘standing guard’ outside the door (this merely meant that he entirely blocked the sliding door with his massive frame – and most of the narrow passageway, too), ducked into the train cabin and Virginia could not help but notice that his bright, hazel eyes were locked on the young girl.&nbsp; “Do you need any water, dear?” she asked, turning her astute attention back to Emma.<br><br>“No, no, I’m fine, Mistress, really,” Emma said.&nbsp; “I’m just surprised that I did it,” she said, staring at the floor.&nbsp; She had even made the blood stains disappear.&nbsp; This little feat made her smile.&nbsp; That irrepressible smile was infectious and Hale was soon smiling, despite himself.<br><br>“It’s for a good cause, Emma,” Virginia said.&nbsp; How many times had she used those words to justify far less savory acts?&nbsp; Hale would surely know where this conversation was going.&nbsp; Sure enough, Virginia glanced over to see that the smile had evaporated from his dark face, making him seem ever darker.<br><br>“Are you willing to do this again, should I ask it of you?” she had to ignore Hale and focus on the 17-year-old girl, now.&nbsp; She could not read minds, but two and a half centuries had taught her how to spot a lie or even a slight deception on another’s face.<br><br>“Oh yes,” Emma said instantly, surprising Hale even more than Virginia.&nbsp; “I can’t wait to try that out on one of these monsters while he’s still kicking and screaming,” she added before either Hale or Virginia could close their mouths from their slack-jawed surprise.<br><br>“Oh no,” said Virginia and Hale at exactly the same moment.&nbsp; Hale stared at Virginia, now.&nbsp; He was immensely grateful that the Mistress shared his opinion and it showed in his eyes.&nbsp; He would not allow Emma to go off half cocked, and niether, it seemed would Virginia.<br><br>“We’ll talk about it later,” Virginia said, her tone effectively ending any chance of further debate.&nbsp; Even Emma, ever oblivious to the nuances of conversation, took the hint.&nbsp; “Let’s meet the others,” Virginia said.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>28-09-2010, 16:48:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>But Solomon Kane must have been loved</em>; Lucas wanted to say to her when she talked quietly of the man, wishing to somehow cheer the woman up in a way. <em>After all, you are here are you not?</em><br><br>But he kept that to himself, as he took the box out of the drawer. He peeked inside and saw the cross covered in felt. He was curious to see if it was made of iron like his but knew better not to go against her instruction and just went back to her. <br><br>He held the box in his hand, looking at her as she chanted some sort of spell. It must be a tracking spell, he thought. To trace the clerical collar… the one that the… the damnable witch had stolen for a sick rendition of a prize.<br><br>He felt his bias come back, hissing poisoned words in his ears how he shouldn’t trust her. For all he know, she could have helped-<br><br>No. Father Frollo would never forgive him for how he was thinking right now.<br><br>“There was this time I stole from a bakery,” Lucas said quietly to her, when she had complimented Father Frollo’s character. “The baker caught me and dragged me back to the church where Father Frollo was tending to Mass. He ordered Father Frollo to hit me right there and then. In front of everyone to make sure I learned my behaviour.”<br><br>He smiled, some tears in his eyes, while he continued to speak. “You know what Father Frollo did? He told the man to hit him instead, for he failed a parent and a person spreading the message of the Lord. I can never forget that… he looked so sincere and honest about his words. He was willing to be hurt for my sake. And I couldn’t protect him, at all.”<br><br>“Oh, I’m sorry, I get like this at times,” Lucas sighed, wiping the tears from his eyes. “May I ask what on earth this cross is? Or whom it belongs to? Father Frollo never mentioned another cross before.”<br><br><strong>New York </strong><br><br>Caroline Richardson was a smart woman. She did not make a deal with The Man Who Walked in the Dusk for nothing, after all. So when she needed to clean her own messes, she cleaned them up and made sure to not leave a single spot that traced back to her.<br><br>She first had one of the street urchins dump the man’s body into the river, his heart stuffed back carelessly inside the corpse. Well, the majority of his heart in any case. She had, as she always done after she had killed a person, cut a piece of their body out and put it in a jar of preservatives to keep for her collection.&nbsp; <br><br>The chosen person was one of the frailer ones. The ones who would most likely not survive another ceremony and was thus useless in her eyes, since they could not due the requirement she picked them up in the first place. If the child was caught, they’ll most likely die within a night or two without her potions to keep them going.<br><br>After that, she had two of her stronger chosen go look for a new batch of children to pick from the streets. Telling them that Mama Caroline is willing to take in more children in her home and feed them some yummy drinks again now that she had room. She then locked the rest of the children in the cellar so they could sleep, deciding that she would just feed them in the morning when she didn’t feel so tired.<br><br>She lay on her couch, too tired to go to her bedroom upstairs. She looked out the window, looking at the night sky reminiscing five months ago. What fun it was! Planning and stalking her kills, making her entrance like The Man Who Walked in the Dusk himself, pizzazz and glamour and all. <br><br>Her last killing was… disappointing but at least she finished her bargain and got a playmate in return. The Knight Templar was such a fun person to taunt and make fun of. He seemed especially mad whenever he saw her little ‘gift’ from Father Frollo after she had killed the old man.<br><br>Caroline smirked as she caressed the clerical collar, her reminder of that wonderful day, that she always wore on her slender, pale neck. It was covered in splotches of dried blood, Father Frollo’s naturally, and new splotches of blood from her task earlier. She shivered, remembering the smelling of the deliciously burnt flesh. <br><br><em>If only the bastard screamed or begged for mercy like the others when I was slowly burning him to death</em>, she thought idly to herself as she lay on her couch and waited whether or not the man she had tasked to dump the body would come back. <em>He seemed calm for man getting roasted alive.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>28-09-2010, 18:37:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Selene motioned for him to place the cross on the table. She continued to focus on the one before her. She felt the link shift a bit so that she could link to the remaining presence of Frollo. She took the covered cross and placed her left hand on it, ignoring the harsh feeling of the iron cross.<br><br>"It belonged to Jacob Kane, and was made for him at the request of Father Frollo." She said simply, not elaborating on it. She felt what she was looking for as she shifted focus to Jacob's cross. The slight touch of Frollo's presence on the cross. "There are several ..rules to magic. Like objects have a sympathetic vibration to them, and items that are touched by a person can feel that signature on other objects over a distance. I am feeling for that.. vibration of Frollo that remains with both, and heightening Jacob's cross so that it can be drawn to other things that Frollo touched."&nbsp; She continued to pour her will on the cross on the felt sheet as she talked.&nbsp; "You can take your cross back. This will work if you're within ten miles or so of any object that was taken from the Father without permission. I have an idea for finding out where she is as well." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>28-09-2010, 18:50:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Thank you Selene," Lucas said, truly grateful. He touched the cross, holding it tenderly in his hand before clasping it back onto his neck. "I have to say Selene, you did so much for me now and yet you still haven't told me what you tasked me to do for return of the information like we agreed earlier."<br><br>He smiled at the woman. Genuinely touched by all her attempts to help him out and all the effort she was putting into it. This was what Father Frollo must have had in mind when he spoke of '<em>Les mains travaillent ensemble</em>'. People doing things for others simply because the person needs help and you are there to help them.<br><br>At that instant, Lucas wondered what he could do to show his gratitude. There was no way on earth that mere words could explain his happiness and joy that he could finally smite Caroline for Father Frollo's murder and stop her insanity before it was too late.<br><br>"I want to help you, in return for helping me track down Father Frollo's murderer and everything else you have done today," Lucas said to her. "Please, what do you need me to do? I wish to help you in thanks of doing so much for a stranger like myself. What do you need me to do for you?"<br><br><em><strong>14 years ago, in the Vatican School for Pious Pages</strong></em><br><br><em>"Another story papa!" Lucas, 10-years-old, was begging for another story from his 'father', Frollo Mason. He was tucked in his bed now, the candlelight giving sufficient warmth to him as he curled under the blankets. "Please papa, another story! I promise I will go to bed after this one last story!"<br><br>Frollo, younger but still looking grey, chuckled as he sat back down on the wooden chair that was next to his bed. "Isn't that what you said about the last two stories, Lucas? Or are you claiming that I am getting old?"<br><br>"You're getting old," Lucas giggled, squealing in surprise when his papa jumped on the bed, pretending to roar as the older man ticked and scratched his sides. He struggled and kicked but couldn't get away from the older's man strong grip, making him beg for mercy. "Forgive me papa! Forgive me!"<br><br>"Not bad for an old man, eh?" Frollo said, getting off the bed and sweeping his cassock of any stray feathers or strands. "I suppose I can indulge you in a story, Lucas. A parable." That was when Lucas noticed his papa's eyes grow sad and heavy, as if remembering terribly saf thing. "It's called... the Bird and the Egg."<br><br>It was about a bird that became the only parent of an egg when the mama died. The bird did not want to be a papa, so it took the egg to another nest and flew away. It was only when he was flying away did he realize that he truly wanted to be a father and so he returned to where the egg was. But the egg had hatched and the baby bird despised its' papa for leaving it. The bird was so heartbroken, it flew to another country to no longer burden the baby bird and that was it.<br><br>"Why did you tell me that?" Lucas asked, obviously so upset now from that sad story.<br><br>Papa simply kissed his forehead, his voice tight with emotion. "To learn a lesson, Lucas. You musn't leave others behind simply because you get the chance. Never, ever do that. Can you promise me that? Good. Now, good night my son."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>28-09-2010, 19:46:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm not done yet." Selene says as she pulls out a journal from her desk. "As for debts owed, you're free and clear. I owe your mentor a great debt. He did much for the family." Clearly there is something to that comment that under stresses the relationship. She opens the book, a journal with many inkstained pages as she pulls out a pin and starts writing.<br><br><br><em>The Lady Selene, Countess of the Two Courts, wishes to pay a visit upon the Archive with a guest at her first convenience. <br><br>Lady Selene Anne Kane.<br><br></em><br><br>Selene puts the blotting sheet on the journal as she looked up at her guest. <br><br>"I can't find your foe. I know someone who MIGHT be able to do so, but you'll have to negotiate with her. There are some ground rules to be followed. Do not threaten her in action, word or deed. There are many forces who protect her and she is literally the font of all knowledge written down. You are to give no word of her appearance or location to any official in the Church. I trust you as the student of Father Frollo to keep this to yourself but I cannot begin to stress how some in the Church would love to get her in their grasp." She took the sheet and looked over the writing.<br><br>"No one force, however well intended, must have control of her." <br><br>She poured an dollop of ink on the accompanying page and sat back as she looked at her guest. The ink stirred and formed into words as she watched, the ink 'writing' itself into a reply as he watched.<br><br><em><br>The Lady Selene, Countess of the Two Courts is welcome to call upon the Archive tonight at eight o'clock with Lucas Joseph Judas Carpenter, Knight of the Sword, at the Diogenes Club. <br><br>The Archive.<br><br>PS. Selene, dress proper and don't berate the lad. As for the problem of Fides, I suggest that you allow the Lady Selene to use the Serpent Skin scabbard. <br></em><br><br>She held up the book for him to read <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>28-09-2010, 20:09:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He leaned forward to read the elegant handwriting, carefully reading the words from 'The Archive'.<br><br>"Well," Lucas said, blinking in surprise. "I am surprised. This... this Archive person is an interesting person, is she not? I never met a person who knew my full name <em>and</em> be properly be able to spell it at the same time."<br><br>He touched <em>Fides</em>' hilt with his hand when he read the Serpent Skin scabbard bit, making a bit of a face but telling himself that it could be worse somehow. "I thought that scabbard was gone for ten years from the Battle of Pure Creek," he said, looking at Selene with raised eyebrows "It seems that you're right Selene - you do have many interesting artifacts from the results of battles."<br><br>"I promise you, I won't tell anyone of the The Archive," he said. "I'm here on personal matters, freed from the Vatican's watch, and so I have no obligation or duty to tell them of my activities here in London. They already think I'm insane as it is with my hunt for Coraline Richardson."<br><br>Something was bugging him to be honest. He was certain he heard the name before. The Archive, but he wasn't sure. Wasn't another part of Father Frollo's mystery past? Someone from his story perhaps? It was obvious that Father Frollo knew the Kane family, that he was that certain of... but why? <br><br>Father Frollo had a habit of getting into things he shouldn't be, thanks to his big and open heart, but to do it over and over again? It would explain his sudden retirement from 'active' work and simply staying in France. He could be trying to hide from the enemies he made from all these made.<br><br>Could it also explain <em>Fides</em>? No ordinary priest could have simply been having it in his family's line.<br><br>He never though Father Frollo as a man of adventure. He bit his lower lip, wondering what else Selene would reveal to him now. He hoped he wouldn't be revealed to be her long lost brother or anything like that.<br><br>"I suppose we must go to Diogenes Club now?" Lucas asked her, standing up straight. "I'll let <em>Fides</em> be placed in the Serpent Scabbard if it eases the The Archive's wariness against it."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>28-09-2010, 20:51:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"The scabbard extends a glamour over the weapon it holds." Selene says as she closes the book and puts it in the desk. "It was designed as a way to ensure that one could always take a weapon with them that wasn't seen. The orignal one dates back to the first crusade." She got up, motioning for him to follow her as she walks out of the library. <br><br>"It was used by a Assassin to into otherwise unapproachable areas." She said as she led the way down the stairs. "It was recovered by a member of the English court. Over time it was studied by several interested parties." She paused to put a hand on an ornately sealed door, after a moment reaching over to pull the door open.<br><br>Pausing to make a motion to conjure a witchlight, she continued to lead the way into the room. The walls are covered with dozens of weapons. Some looked mundane but well used. In one corned was a bullet rack. Stacks of lead, silver and a single ingot of gold lay by the molds. She pulled a small leathery scabbard as she stopped by one rack.<br><br>"This is one that was made sometime in the last century, and was part of a plot to kill a member of the royal family." She smirked. "The would be assassin was a better enchanter than swordsman. The royal in question beat him to death with a candle stick and the family took possession of the scabbard." Selene handed over the scabbard with a shrug. "It will resize to fit Fides and those who aren't gifted or touched by power will never see it."<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rukio</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 05:59:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Drake's face took on a seriously puzzled expression. She'd seem him before? This was a problem. He'd never met anyone who was imune to his noticability powers. Veronica was an anomali in that particular rule. One Drake had to figure out before she was snatched up by someone who wanted him dead. She could remember him and see him. He marveled at that fact. Then Lexie said his name. Drake hadn't heard his name spoken by another person in almost a century. It made his look of confusion and curiosity. Drake was many things. A monster to some, feared by most, and loved by none, but to himself, he was a bit of a scientist. He couldn't resist finding answers to everything. Especially things that caught his interest. And one thing was perfectly certain. Both Lexie and Veronica had caught his attention and piqued his curiosity something fierce. He had to know how they did what they did. Veronica seemed to simply not be affected by his power. Lexie on the other hand seemed to be able to break through it. His hands went into his pockets and drew out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He sparked one and held the pack out to Veronica. He doubted, judging from the look of her, that Lexie was old enough to smoke.<br>"I think we should all take a step back from this situation."<br>His voice was calm and smooth. He wanted both of these women to agree to accompany him somewhere a bit more private for them to talk. He couldn't do that if they both were wary of him to the point of hostility.<br>"Let me first apologize for the manner in which I addressed you Lexie. I should have been more tactful. And Veronica. Please accept my apology as well. I didn't mean to be hostile towards you. You merely surprised me."<br>He took a drag off the cigarette and blew the smoke from his mouth in a thin stream, angling it away from the two ladies.<br>"It's been a very long time since I've met anyone like you two. I'd like to ask you both a few questions about yourselves if you'd be willing to accompany me somewhere a little less exposed. There are many who would see me dead and, unfortunately, a couple of them have the means to see it done."<br>He gestured behind himself, angling his arm back towards the street and in the direction of one of his safe houses. It was only a couple blocks away and he felt the need to be somewhere where he could feel a bit more secure. Their little tiff would have definitly drawn attention. Especially when he'd almost flared up. He was pretty sure that the person following the hit on his head was able to track his particular power traces like some kind of blood hound.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 07:00:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Taking the small scabbard, Lucas untied <em>Fides</em> from the he put it in and undrew it. The broadsword glowed with a soft, steady light. Giving the Knight a strength and conviction that came deep within him whenever he saw the broadsword's true iron blade. He touched it, his eyes softening when he remembered how he got it.<br><br><em>He was 18-years-old and he finally was a Knight Templar. He wore the armory (http://s2.hubimg.com/u/632549_f260.jpg) with pride if not with grace. His lanky frame made an awkward fit in the suit of armor. Father Frollo beamed with joy nonetheless, watching the Knighting Ceremony with pride like any real father.<br><br>"I have a present for you," the priest said. He revealed a large but sleek broadsword that was sheathed in a handsome leather scabbard before him, making Lucas wonder how on earth he hid from his view. "It has been in my family for generations, we pass it down to our children who go take the call of the Lord. One way or another."<br><br>He took it, admiring the true iron was he drew it out. He felt his lungs tighten in joy and excitement, sensing the powers that came from it. "Father Frollo... I... thank you. This is a wonderful gift. The sword is built wonderfully."<br><br>"The sword," Father Frollo chuckled, "is <strong>Fides</strong>. Do learn to use its proper name, Lucas. Names are a powerful thing after all."<br><br>"Faith?" Lucas looked again at the sword that seemed to glow on its own. It made sense. He felt more calm when he laid his eyes on the broadsword. "Fitting name. Though, why do you have a sword in your possession? Are you not just a simple priest?" <br><br>Father Frollo shrugged and smiled, his eyes twinkling with an unknown secret that he was going to keep all to himself.</em><br><br>Bringing himself out of the memories, he placed the tip of the sword in the entrance of the small scabbard and the Serpent Skin grew. It stretched over the tip until it would fit the entire weapon. He brought it down, sheathing it and placed it back in his belt.<br><br>"Interesting," he commented, smiling at Selene. "Shall we go now?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 07:23:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Veronica was slightly surprised by being addressed by her name.&nbsp; To her knowledge she hadn’t said her name during the conversation and yet the woman Lexi seemed to have pulled her name from her mind.&nbsp; It was a strange thing to be sure, though admittedly not an unheard of thing.&nbsp; The existence of those with other abilities was not that uncommon.&nbsp; Still it was a little disconcerting and she wondered what else Lexi could gleam from her mind<br><br>In the end she settled for smiling politely.&nbsp; “You don’t owe me anything,” Veronica said truthfully.&nbsp; &nbsp;She hadn’t acted because she expected anything in return for her actions she had simply reacted on instinct.&nbsp; “You just looked like you could use some help.”&nbsp; A slight frown creased her face as she thought about her encounter with Edmond from the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.&nbsp; It seemed to her from what he had told her that was the kind thing they did only on a grander scale.&nbsp; Perhaps he would have to give his offer additional thought.<br><br>She turned her attention back to the situation at hand and watched apprehensively as Drake’s hand went into his pocket but she relaxed some when the only thing that he withdrew from it was a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.&nbsp; She pushed the pack away when he offered her one.&nbsp; She was certainly old enough to smoke and though her immune system would heal any damage done by inhaling a lung full of smoke she did care to partake.<br><br>Despite his words she still wasn’t sure if she trusted him.&nbsp; “Apology accepted I suppose,” Veronica said tenuously wanting to keep this friendly.&nbsp; The truth was she really didn’t want a fight if she could avoid it.&nbsp; <br><br>She tried to sense any deception in his words, but as much as she could tell, it did seem as though he simply wanted to ask a few question though about what she couldn’t fathom.&nbsp; “What sort of questions did you have in mind?” the half vampire asked cautiously.&nbsp; It was clear that this man Drake was something else, at least as dangerous as she was herself maybe even more so, it was hard to tell.&nbsp; “Depending on what they are I might consent to tell you if you’d be willing to answer some of mine as well and I’m sure Lexi has some as well.”&nbsp; she gestured over to the woman, though in appearance it looked as though she was more of a girl still.&nbsp; “Also I don’t want you to get the wrong idea and think that I’m willing to trust you that easily, I’ll be keeping my eye on you don’t forget that.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 07:48:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Not yet." Selene said with a laugh. "I, unlike you, have to get dressed. The Archive dislikes my sense of decorum." She pointedly gestures over her less than acceptable attire.<br><br>"Reginald will put you up in the receiving room while I get suitable attire." Selene says as she leads the way out of the vault, pausing to reseal the door behind her.<br><br><strong>A few hours later</strong><br><br>A very different Selene comes down the stairs. Her hair braided into a nice train and she is in a tight dress that shows her feminine side more than the outfit she had been wearing earlier. With the make up and jewelry she looks quite attractive. And unhappy with the look from her manner.<br><br>"Keeping in mind that I dislike this, please don't go and and compliment me. I get enough of that from the nobles wanting my property." She says as she pulls on&nbsp; her gloves. "I detest this look. Fashion was created by men, I am quite sure of that. Something you need to know about this club, it's neutral ground. We're safe there, but we can't act against anyone there either. That, however, doesn't protect us when we are done with our business and are leaving."<br><br>She picks up her staff and smiles.<br><br>"So, please be careful inside and be ready for trouble when we leave. I .. recently killed one of the oldest vampires in the kingdom and some of his surviving brood might still be alive."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 07:53:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He offered Victoria the pack of cigarette and I gave him a look, I knew I looked young and acted younger if everyone else is to be believed but 17 wasn't that young and certainly not young enough to be treated like a child among adults.&nbsp; <br><br>I smiled and nodded when he apologized, pleased that the tables had turned and my life was no longer in danger. It was completely annoying how often I found myself in life threatening situations who ever would have thought the truth would be such a dangerous thing. I made a mental note to myself to find a way to repay Victoria at some point, weather she said I owed her or not it mattered little I felt like I owed her and that was all that mattered. "Well thank you." I said with a smile.<br><br>I squinted my eyes looking at him carefully as I considers his offer. He wanted us to go with him he was angling for it but I couldn't see any foul intentions so after a moment smiled and nodded "I'll go." I said smiling and kind of bouncing slightly as if revving up. I'd been sitting still and acting calm so long I needed to move, I felt antsy. "I might have a few questions myself we'll see. I don't mind answering any questions you have I have nothing to hide." I said honestly. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rukio</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 09:45:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Drake shrugged, dragging on his cigarette again. He really loved smoking. The fact that he was, for all intents and purposes, immortal, had so many advantages. The smallest not being that he could smoke all he wanted and not feel any lasting effects. His body completely regenerated itself at midnight every night. He couldn't die. No matter how hard he tried. And in his early years, he had tried. He'd even gone so far as to throw himself into the path of a moving train. Nothing worked. His body, no matter how badly damaged, always became just as perfect as it had been the day he'd become immortal every night. He had hated it at first, thinking it was some cruel twist of fate to never be allowed the release of death when he grew old. Then he noticed that he wasn't aging either. He'd reveled in that fact. Forever young and powerful. A fact he used to his advantage. Drake had made himself into a very wealthy man very quickly. And he always had plenty of money now. He smiled cordially at the women. They'd agreed to go with him. That was something at least. Veronica still seemed hostile towards him though. He'd have to change that. Maybe even recruit her to his brotherhood/ This girl too. He was certain he would be able to recruit her. She seemed to full of life to turn his offer down.<br>"I just want to ask some honest questions.... May I call you Veronica? I haven't met many people like you and you've piqued my interest, but I would prefer not to discuss the nature of my questions in the open. As I said, there are those that want me dead. I'd rather they didn't have the chance to catch me out here. Will you, please follow me to a safe house near by. I give you my word on my immortality that I wish you no harm."<br>His eyes seemed to glow their dark golden color as he spoke and a heavy sense of complacency seemed to wash over the women. Drake had used the trinket he'd drawn from his coat when he'd reached into it for the cigarettes. It added power to his voice and compelled anyone who heard it to listed and, potentially obey. He hoped they wouldn't notice. He didn't want to start a fight over this and he really didn't want to hurt them now that they were so interesting a pair of people.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 10:31:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I will keep my thoughts about myself, Ms. Kane," he promised her. He offered her his arm, thinking it would be polite to do so. "Though I must make an observation and say that you still have an ability to follow the fashion even if you disagree with it."<br><br>He fixed his hat and coat, covering <em>Fides</em> with his coat while he buttoned it up. <br><br>"Which of the elder vampires?" Lucas asked. He knew there were two Courts of Vampires. "The Dusk Court or the The Midnight Court? And I'm sure they will not bother us when we are there, they have to abide to the Word of Manners."<br><br>The Vampires of Dusk, the ones who feed on blood on anyone or anything. They were nasty bunch. Physically strong and dangerous. Though not as elegant and cunning as the other Court, they made up for their inability to let go of grudges and their very creative torture methods if they ever get this hands of the ones that they have a grudge on. They were also known for the tactless (yet legal) way of getting a 'feast', which was inviting the homeless or lost children to parties to devour them.<br><br>The Vampires of Midnight, the ones who feed on emotions through any method or way they can. They were the more feared between the two, since they both intelligence and strength on their side. They were sadistic and cruel to everyone, even to their own family members. Lucas heard of stories of how the male vampires kept control over their families. He shivered, feeling a bit sick remembering that.<br><br>"And if they don't... we'll, at least we tried to be the polite one," Lucas said, feeling a bit worried now.<br><br><em>Diogenes Club (http://www.dallasartsrevue.com/shows/EASL/Heist-06/JR43397-food-room-B-4.jpg)</em><br><br>Lucas has never been here before so he couldn't help but gape at the smoky room, lit with the unnatural colored lights that must have been coming from some sort of magic. Everywhere he looked, he could see the supernatural. Vampires, shape shifters, elves and so much more. He felt their energy and strength and it made him sick, since he wasn't used to be around so much magical auras.<br><br>He was about to say something to Selene, he felt someone touch his shoulder. It sent chills down his spine, from both his surprise of the person's touch and the person's naturally cold hands. It could only be...<br><br>"If it isn't the Knight of <em>Fides</em>," the person said, their tone sounding sweet at first. If you listened harder, you would hear a steely edge to it, like bitter frost in a deadly snow storm. "We have not seen each other for... how long, dear Knight? Seven years? Eight years? Time does fly when your beloved break his vows to you."<br><br>Lucas turned around and gulped when he laid eyes on the slender figure of the woman (http://www.cellinifinegifts.com/munroimages/dragonsite_nt135sm.jpg) with the long dark hair and bewitching grey eyes. The winter faerie was gorgeous, entrancing and deadly in her icy fury. He knew the last part because he used to be with her.<br><br>"It is nice to see you dear Borealis," he said, using her Name. Her eyes widened in shock at his impunity, not realizing he was simply trying to be polite to her. Her eyes narrowed in slits, though it was hard to tell in the cat eye mask she wore on her pretty face. "I hope you are doing well and have found a better lover than I."<br><br>"Keep your honeyed words to yourself, Knight," the faerie hissed, looking him then Selene. "I see that you're now with someone else. The Countess of the two Courts no less."<br><br>"I'm here for just business, Boeralis," he said kindly to her. He didn't want to cause a scene here, and people were already watching. He gestured to Selene in a simple fashion, trying to show that he and her were not a couple. "Ms. Kane is just helping me." He looked up and saw a man, also a faerie, was gesturing for her to come back. "That man seems to want you, Boeralis."<br><br>Boeralis glowered at him before turning on her heel, leaving a burst of freezing, bitter wind at the witch and knight as she left to be with the man she supposedly came with. He looked to Selene, mouth an apology for what had just happened now.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 11:02:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A scent of summer heat rises as Boeralis' cold rushed over them. Selene's eyes seem to be a honeyed gold as she simply met the winter faerie's gaze with one of her own. Both women knew that their place in the scheme of things. Lucas' quick verbal deflection defused the situation for which Selene was grateful for. She had clashed with one of the oldest of the Dusk vampires the night before and her ribs were still sore. She had on occasion had to .. stomp on one of the faerie when they tried to put her in her 'proper place.' Add in that she knew the forces at play if she acted first.<br><br>"I see," Selene said to Lucas as they walked through the club, the rush of power around them not hitting her as hard as it did the Knight. "that you know about dealing with the Winter Court at least." Her dry tone could be interpreted as many different ways. Disapproval at his choices perhaps? <br><br><em>Greetings Twiceborn.</em> Selene turned to face the speaker, a man wrapped in shadow, and goes utterly still.. <em>You have grown in the many years since our last encounter. Have your found him yet?</em> <br><br>"No. Not yet. I am mindful of my promises Huntsman." She says quietly. The shadowy man chuckles, looming large as he stands up and looks down on her. <br><br><em>I hope you join us again when you do my dear. We had ever so much fun in Innsmouth and Pirate's Reef. I think you would fit right in with me and mine.</em> With a throaty chuckle the massive man looks to Lucas. For long moments it's hard to tell what he is thinking as he looks the Knight over. <em>Be mindful Knight, she is much more of Faerie than the mortal realm. And like all things Faerie, she is wrapped in secrets and has long dangerous claws.</em> Then he is gone, the brush of wind carrying the sound of hounds upon it. Lucas hears his last words as a whisper in his ear.<br><br><em>Not all hunters are easily spotted.</em> <br><br>Selene motions towards a passing waiter and is rewarded with a stiff drink as she continues to stride across the room. A clutch of vampires fading as she passed them, and she in turn skirted a man at a chessboard with another shadow playing against him.<br><br>"Busy night here it seems. Perhaps I'm not the only one seeking the Archive." Selene says as she drains her glass and moves towards a private room. She knocks on it, her knuckles barely touching the wood as it eases open. She steps in without a second glance backwards.<br><br>The woman sitting at the table in the small discretely decorated room looks up, an elegant woman of indeterminate age. Her eyes sparkle as she takes in the woman and her companion. It was only her eyes that told Lucas that she was something other than any mother or grandmother he could have met at a tea shop. There was a gradual flow of letters through the irises and she looked upon the world with wisdom beyond any mortal's lifespan.<br><br>"See? Is this such a bad thing to present yourself in public with?" She says to Selene who looks embarrassed. "And I suspect you're wearing one of that french woman's clever designs. Which means you've got at least a pistol in addition to the staff and those viscous hair pins you're wearing. That was a proper doing forth with Lord Fisk, he was a proper barbarian." She motions for them to sit down. "Poisoning him with saint's blood returned a little of the pain he's caused in this world,&nbsp; though I wished you hadn't be so terribly through in your burning of his estate. He had some lovely books in that library, a folio that Francis Bacon wrote as well as a journal belonging to Cromwell." Selene cleared her throat and looked at the woman fixedly. "Honestly Selene, two lives and you're still the most impatient person I've met."<br><br>"Time, Constance, isn't always our friend. You know who this is." She gestures to Lucas. "He needs to know if his quarry has given some clue you can ascertain for him. I doubt she's as tricky as my quarry."<br><br>"Well that much is true, Ephraim never uses a journal in his own name.. or one that isn't warded from me by those strange methods of his. I suspect he's using some alias that he's never written on out of character or that anyone who might know has written of either. She, on the other hand, takes great relish in writing of her misdeeds." She frowned. "Tell me young man, what do you need to know?"<br><br>"Constance is the Archive, Lucas, and as such is the closest thing to the sum total of all human knowledge. If it's recorded in some manner she knows it." Selene explains. "My foe keeps his secrets close and knows of her ability and that I have talked to her. So he never writes of anything that can hint to where or who he is now. I suspect the witch you seek isn't as bright."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 11:45:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I was young and foolish," Lucas explained when he heard her dry tone. He looked at the faerie as she moved away, vanishing in the crowd with her partner. His teeth chattered a bit, obviously having felt the cold winter radiating earlier from her. The sudden warmth from Selene helped him and he felt better, though the ache in his heart (and the ghost pain in his stomach) lingered when he laid eyes on the pretty supernatural again.<br><br>"I believed that anything would work between to people," he sighed, as they walked to the direction of where the The Archive could have possibly been. "We met one winter solstice and thought we could be together, even if we were from different races or times. Her mother, Lea, a very aggressive dragon and an incurred debt told me other wise."<br><br>When the man came, he simply nodded his head in greeting and watched him and Selene interact, seeing nothing else to do. Though he looked at his outfit when the cloaked man stared at him, wondering if there was something undone or anything like that.<br><br><em>And not all hunters are monsters, good sir,</em> he thought sourly to himself when the man departed with those words in his ear. He was honestly tired of being threatened by people he didn't know at the moment. He had enough of it during his missions for the Church, he didn't need them when he was trying to look for truth for himself.<br><br>When he saw the The Archive, something about her seemed familiar. As if he saw her from before. A picture? No... an illustration, yes. It was an illustration of a woman with eyes like hers, with a caption in the bottom about her. It should be in a book but why would he know that? More questions were coming out than questions at the moment, and it irritated him to no end.<br><br>"Nice to meet you Ms. Constance, if I may call you that," he said, tipping his hat in greeting and bowing by the waist. <em>Fides</em> hummed with power in reply, as if respectfully greeting the older, elegant woman. Her eyes made him wonder how it was even possible to have eyes like that, though that wasn't his troubles right now.<br><br>"Caroline Richardson," he said. "She used to be a nun but turned to dark magic for some reason. I need to know where she is and why she was murdering priests five months ago and suddenly stopped. She claimed a good friend of mine, her final victim, and I wish to avenge him. I have little evidence of anything and her past, since she always burned down her hideouts when I was close to catch her." His jaw was set, showing anger at his failure. "She uses the <em>Mihi quod Mihi Unus</em> Ceremony if it helps you in anyway."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 12:42:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				the suggestive magic washed over me and felt like ice against my back making me shiver violently. I didn't know what had happened exactly only that he'd done it. It didn't take me but a moment to realize it must have been some kind of false suggestion. I knew my limitations well enough to know exactly what fell into them the only possible thing I could think of was suggestion since I sensed no out right lie in his words but he left himself a loop hole weather he saw it or not that clouded my sight. <br><br>Feeling a bit ill at ease after feeling the cold chill of the magic I gave him a penetrating look, "Tell me will we both be able to leave of our own violation with no harm against us if we go with you?" I asked hoping he'd answer simply so I could get a clear reading on him without having any lingering doubts about safety. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>EroticWinged</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 13:58:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>A Large estate, somewhere east of New York City</strong><br><br>It was all a bit overwhelming, especially for one of Harold (Harry) Fine’s rather odd ability.&nbsp; Less than a month ago he was playing the part of a blind grifter, begging for money and robbing the unwary… robbing them blind, as they say.&nbsp; Harry had been blinded when he was a just a young boy – he didn’t know how old he was then and didn’t know how old he was now.&nbsp; His face was mostly a mass of scars, especially where his eyes used to be.&nbsp; He had thought he was alone in the world, had thought he was little more than a disfigured monster, shunned by all.<br><br>Now he found himself in the richly appointed drawing room of some wealthy New York financial aristocrat.&nbsp; He could tell the room was finely decorated without even the use of his unique senses.&nbsp; He could smell the rich leather and linens, the fine scent of expensive cigars.&nbsp; He could hear the distant bustle of servants and maids through the thick walls.&nbsp; In the room with him were the master of the house and his wife, William and Katherine Bronski, lately arrived by coach from the train station.&nbsp; He had met them late one night while looking for a mark.&nbsp; They had intentionally interrupted him, letting his quarry escape.&nbsp; He knew, or should have known, that there was something different about these two – the moment he so much as turned his anger toward them, intending violence, the woman threw him against a brick wall.&nbsp; She had been standing a good ten or more paces away from him and had seemingly thrown him with a simple glancing gesture of her eyes.&nbsp; Then they claimed they needed his help – wanted to make a deal.&nbsp; It had been tricky negotiations, neither party trusting the other, despite the fact that two of the three were psychics.&nbsp; But Harry was more than just a ‘pure’ psychic, as Washington Hale would term William Bronski.&nbsp; Harry could move things with his mind, like Mrs. Bronski.&nbsp; He could do what both of them could do, but he was no where near as strong as either of them.&nbsp; They had offered him a deal, a deal the horribly disfigured man could not refuse.&nbsp; He still didn’t trust them completely, both men were adept at hiding their thoughts from the other.&nbsp; But in the intervening days, Harry had gleaned enough information from Katherine Bronski that he began to hope.&nbsp; Supposedly, they were to introduce him to a man who could heal his face and allow him to walk in public without having to hide behind a mask and hood.&nbsp; In return, he had to give up his life of crime and do them one small favor.<br><br>This morning, the manor house had come alive.&nbsp; Servants of every stripe were scurrying all over the place, guests were arriving un-announced and preparations for some fancy lunch or dinner were well underway when William and Katherine had returned in a slightly flustered rush, themselves.&nbsp; Now they had gathered up their guest, Harry, and made ready to present him in the drawing room.&nbsp; Harry could feel the new arrivals before he could hear their footsteps out in the hall.&nbsp; He stepped back and forth, side to side, intensely nervous.&nbsp; It was Katherine who laid a gentle hand on his arm, “It’s all right.”&nbsp; Her voice was soothing and her mind showed no hint of a lie.<br><br>The newcomer’s footsteps rounded the doorway and William made introductions, “Mr. Harold Fine, I’d like you to meet Mr. Washington Hale and miss Emmaline Place.”&nbsp; Harry could feel the man’s own sense of strength and power and vigor… and something more.&nbsp; The man simply reveled in living life!&nbsp; And next to him was a kindred spirit, an expansive young soul shining out of a tiny little body.&nbsp; They were two-of-a-kind, despite the tremendous disparity of physical size and color of skin.&nbsp; Such physical characteristics had never meant much to Harry, and here was evidence as to why, such ephemeral things did not matter in the long and short of life.&nbsp; Hesitantly, he held out his hand, “Pleased to ah… meet you, Mr. Hale.”<br><br>“And you as well,” said the giant, consuming Harry’s hand in his own.&nbsp; No one had ever shaken Harry’s hand before.<br><br>Harry, sensitive that he was, gleaned from Hale’s mind, and from a subtle directing of his hand as they let go their grip, that he should also shake Emma’s hand.&nbsp; “Pleased to meet you, miss Place,” Harry said, taking Emma’s hand rather awkwardly.&nbsp; Her hand felt strangely cold and oddly soft for an instant, until Harry realized, seeing through Katherine’s eyes for a moment and reading her thoughts, that the young Emma was wearing silk gloves that were obscenely expensive.<br><br>“And you, sir,” she said echoing her giant companion and attempting a curtsey.&nbsp; Her voice was filled with happiness and Harry could feel it in her thoughts.&nbsp; It made him smile, until the pain of his tortured cheeks made him stop.<br><br>“Shall we begin?” asked Hale.<br><br>“Wha… here?&nbsp; Now?” said William.<br><br>“Yes, why not?&nbsp; You’ve made the deal already, yes?”<br><br>Bill Bronski had to admire the efficiency of the man, “No time like the present,” he said.&nbsp; “Are you ready Mr. Fine?”<br><br>Harry nodded.&nbsp; All five people in the room had something special about them, he realized.&nbsp; ‘What were the odds of that?’ he wondered as he pushed his hood back.&nbsp; His long, curly, graying hair bounced up comically.&nbsp; Then he removed his mask.&nbsp; To Harry, it was as if some one had turned out the lights.&nbsp; Suddenly everyone in the room sought to hide their thoughts and discomfort.&nbsp; Only Hale looked at the man closely.&nbsp; Harry caught a glimpse of an image in the man’s mind.&nbsp; The giant had seen, and experienced, far worse.<br><br>From Emma he felt intense sympathy and sadness.&nbsp; He hated that more than the quickly hidden disgust of Mr. and Mrs. Bronski.&nbsp; Then Washington Hale touched his face.<br><br>Instantly, all the pain was gone!&nbsp; Harry hadn’t even realized how much pain he had learned to ignore.&nbsp; His melted skin tingled and prickled, moved and twitched and tickled.&nbsp; His face felt hot and cold all at once.&nbsp; His nose cracked once as it grew back.&nbsp; His mangled lips drew up and formed themselves into a small, narrow and thin-lipped, but otherwise perfectly formed mouth.&nbsp; Hale’s huge fingers lingered over Harry’s eyes.&nbsp; After only a short while, these strange sensations were so uncomfortable that it was Harry who pulled back, breaking the contact.<br><br>“I’m sorry,” Hale said in a quiet, deep voice.&nbsp; “I cannot regrow your eyes.&nbsp; I have an idea, but it will take some preparation…”&nbsp; Harry was no longer listening to the man.&nbsp; Through the eyes of those in the room, he could see himself.&nbsp; And for the first time, no one turned away in fear or revulsion.&nbsp; Slowly, tentatively, he explored his face with his fingertips.&nbsp; Had his eyelids only been able to open, he would have cried openly.&nbsp; As it was he was so chocked up that he literally did choke.&nbsp; He sniffled and blubbered unintelligibly and cupped his new, smooth face with his rough hands.&nbsp; In between coughing fits and ragged gasps for breath, long, agonized moans and the wails of years of pent up pain escaped him and he slumped into a chair.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 18:21:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Selene give us some privacy." She says with a 'shooing' motion. Selene nodded as she got up and walked towards to the door. A moment later, she was gone. Constance poured the two of them some tea as she continued to speak to the young Knight. "She uses the rite to gain power, to what end I do not know. I suspect she uses it to pay her 'mentors' in like. The rite is good for a variety of things, if you're willing to play with the forces at hand."<br><br>"She writes of her . plan often, but doesn't specify. I shan't say what she says of you." Constance says with a sigh. "You occupy her thoughts as much as she is in yours. If you hunt her, know that she will be expecting you. She has plans for you Lucas. I would suspect that she wishes to turn you to her side. So, all I can offer is a warning about the wrath that burns in you Lucas. It is the best opening you have to offer her."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 18:45:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"She pays her mentors with the blood of the innocent," he said, gripping the cup he was holding in his hand tightly. "The poor, the defenseless, the weak for her own gain. How can anyone make such spells with malicious intent? God never created this world for debauchery like this to happen to his children."<br><br>When he heard that the The Archive won't say what the vile witch thought of him, he set his jaw and looked at the woman. "Why not? I need to know what she thinks of, what she is planning to do with me. I need to have some sort of edge against her! She has been always ahead of me whenever we've met and I'm tired of it, I wish to somehow have a blade against her throat."<br><br><em>Preferably</em>, he suddenly though, <em>a real one against her neck as I push it in-</em><br><br>"Don't," he said to himself, clenching and unclenching the hand he had at his side. He reminded himself of Father Frollo's kind acts, but they kept going away when he thought of his murder.<br><br>He gave a bitter smile to her, shaking his head. "The only side of me that she wants to see is my dead one," he said to the woman, sipping some of the tea in an effort to calm himself. He remembered their many dances and fights. Her taunts and words and everything of that devilish redhead. "I don't understand... why does she care for my wrath? She should be <em>afraid</em> of it, since it is aimed all at her and her alone."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 18:48:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lexi seemed to have a very bubbly personality. Excited just by the prospect of learning something new.&nbsp; Veronica had not been that kind of person for along time.&nbsp; Not since the death of her mother.&nbsp; Since that time she had become hard and didn’t trust easily.&nbsp; Trust was a double edged tool that could cut either way.&nbsp; Trust was essential and yet if given to the wrong person it could have disastrous results.&nbsp; It had been the reason why she had turned down Edmond earlier, though now she was considering giving him another chance.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; <br>“Until I know what the questions are I cannot promise answers, but I will listen,”&nbsp; Veronica replied giving him as honest an answer as was possible.&nbsp; She didn’t feel comfortable giving out details about what she could do, to a man who may or may not be her enemy.&nbsp; Information was power and rarely to be given freely.&nbsp; <br><br>She noticed that he seemed a little nervous out in the open, she noted as they started to move down the dark street slowly at first.&nbsp; It seemed as though this man had enemies and she wondered privately if the way he responded to Lexi following him was the result of him have enemies or the reason.&nbsp; It was hard to judge and she knew better than to assume anything.&nbsp; <br><br>As he continued to speak she felt something wash over her, it was in the tenor of his voice.&nbsp; It was as though his voice had taken on an added layer of significance.&nbsp; She felt compelled to pay attention.&nbsp; Then Lexi voiced similar thoughts, and Veronica stopped to turn to look at them.&nbsp; Was he actually be responsible for the way she felt now?&nbsp; Had they unwittingly fallen into one of his traps after all?&nbsp; It was so hard to think properly through the haze that had appeared since she she had first spoken of being able to leave of their own volition.&nbsp; Her mind was muddled with complacency.&nbsp; A primal part of her knew that she should be angry that he had tricked her, but she just couldn’t express it.&nbsp; Her eyes on locked onto Drake she spoke.&nbsp; “What did you to us?” she asked trying and failing to fight through the stupor.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 21:36:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I don't think you understand, it's not her who should fear your wrath but You." Constance said calmly. "You need to control it before leaves you vulnerable." She points to Fides at his side. "If you were to use that blade in a moment of wrath against the wrong foe, what would happen? Tell me Lucas, what would happen if you were to be foresworn in your duty?" <br><br><strong>Outside</strong><br><br>Selene sat down with sigh as she took the offered brandy. Somehow she wasn't sure that leaving the Knight alone with the Archive was in best interests of her sense of ease. But when Constance told you to leave, you left or were removed.&nbsp; A hell of lot on the subject of magic was written down and as the living repository of all that is recorded, Constance knew it all. She might not be as powerful as Selene but with that scope of knowledge she didn't need to be.<br><br>She wondered what they were discussing. Constance could easily unveil her secrets if she felt in the mood.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 21:59:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Looking at <em>Fides</em>, he bit his lip and sighed. "It would become tainted with the blood of the wrongly accused due to a moment of doubt," he said, looking drained now. He knew where this was going, since Father Frollo used to do this all the time with him when he was still a young Knight Templar. "It would lose all of its' power than because it meant my faith was not true and I used it against the namesake weapon. It'll rot away to nothing but rust..."<br><br>"Fine," he said, rubbing his forehead. "If I cannot use the sword, I'll beat her with my fists. I... I just want to avenge Father Frollo's death. It wasn't right to take his life that day, he was even <em>defending</em> her from me the moment he died. At all. It just wasn't. I want to bring his name to justice."<br><br>He sighed, slumping his shoulders. He touched the iron cross he wore around his neck, just remembering idly that must be why Borealis wasn't hovering close to him during their encounter. The iron made the faeries sick, in a sense. What an odd fact to remember at the moment...<br><br>"Is there anything else you can tell me at least? Anything at all?" The Knight looked at her, putting the cup down. "I'm very frustrated with the lack of information I have in my hands, so I suppose that any sort of it will do no matter what. Who knows? It could help me in the near future one way or another."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>29-09-2010, 22:40:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"What do you want to know? That she writes extensively of you, and how she kissed you after you were knocked out?" Constance said in that neutral tone&nbsp; as she stirred her tea. "I don't think you need to know much beyond this, she dreams of you."<br><br>Constance shakes her head. "That and she was still using her name when she arrived in New York. She arrived sometime ago. She is most likely still in the city proper but I can't be certain. Though most of that is inferred from the police reports of the area, detailing murders that match the ritual's methods. Is that what you've been needing from me?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>30-09-2010, 15:37:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lucas all but choked on the tea he was sipping on when he heard the piece of information, taking all of his will to not spit it out from the emotions he was feeling right there and then. He felt his skin crawl at the thought of that awful woman on top of his prone, unconscious form. Her body pressed against his as she shoved her tongue into his mouth while Father Frollo's corpse was three feet away from them...<br><br>"Lord," he said, making the sign of the cross. He shoved the teacup away from him, his form showing that he was shaking from the revelation. He gripped <em>Fides</em>' hilt for dear life, wondering how he could close his eyes to sleep when all he would see is most likely her.<br><br>"New York," he repeated under his breathe, looking up at the The Archive. "New York... she's there. After all this time, she's there? I should have known. " Lucas' eyes flashed when he heard the murders, his jaw set once more. "Murders? Darn... how many of those poor souls were found? Do you have an address of where she lives perhaps?"<br><br><strong><em>Meanwhile, in the Vatican as this takes place...</em></strong><br><br>Pope Pius IX looked at the bickering priests, deacons and bishops bickering before him around the table and shook his head. He was honestly too old for this, truly. Blessed Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca, as always, was trying to calm everyone down just so he could not waste his voice. His throat has been parched and sore nearly the entire day and he couldn't raise it at all.<br><br>Carlo finally had everyone settled down, going back to his side like a faithful watch dog. "Thank you," he said. Carlo just nodded in reply, saying it was an honor. Pius now looked at the crowd before him, readying himself for this tiresome cycle he will have yet again.<br><br>"People," he said, his voice coming out in pathetic wheezes and coughs. He hasn't been feeling well for the past few days and his physician claimed it was just a simple cold. "We are here today to discuss about the matters of the rightful owner of the <em>Fides</em>, which is currently held by the Knight Templar Lucas Carpenter."<br><br>"We should get it back from that boy immediately," one priest predictably announced, slamming his fist on the surface of the wooden table. "A sword of great power like that should not be in the hands of such an ignorant child."<br><br>"The Knight is all but ignorant," one of the deacons said, defending the man. "But he is troubled at the moment. He has been obsessed with finding the killer of Father Frollo for months. The sword could be a dangerous weapon for a child that is letting his heart be led by his fury, Pius. We should give it back to the original owners of the sword until he has learned to calm himself of his emotions."<br><br>"No," one of the bishops said. "If we do that, we will be giving it back to the Kane family for Father Frollo has no more relatives and he claimed his ancestors were given to it by the Solomon Kane. Are you willing to give <em>Fides</em> to those scoundrels? The ones who turned their backs on God?"<br><br>"Well, we can't keep it for ourselves, can we? It is not ours and we have no right to seize and take it. It will break one of the Laws we swore with the other Courts and Councils."<br><br>"But it is has one of the nails of the Cross smited into the very blade it self. It is the reason why it even has its' powers in the first place. It is very well ours."<br><br>"But not in word, Father Foothill," another said.<br><br>And the bickering began in a full circle once more. Pius sighed, slumping in his chair as he looked at the men wearily as they argued over the <em>Fides</em>. This will be a long meeting, that's all he knew.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>30-09-2010, 22:05:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You should know, the ownership of Fides is being discussed as we speak." Constance says as she pours another cup for herself, "and sadly she hasn't put that in writing I can link to her. New York is where she is now, but there is no promise as to the specifics beyond that." <br><br>"Would you like to voice your opinion on this subject." Constance asked as she looked at Lucas. "I, of course, am of the opinions that the Swords of the Cross are not the property of anyone but themselves. God places them where they are needed and can be found by these chosen. I know they are discussing it, because one of the secretaries is making notes as they debate. Would you care to put your voice into the discussion? I would like to put mine in but it's not my place."<br><br><strong>Outside</strong><br><br>Selene was still sipping her brandy as she waited on Lucas. Clearly Constance wanted to talk to the Knight alone and she wasn't going to argue with the Archive. She was caught up in her thoughts as someone approached where she was sitting and spun her around to face her. <br><br>Before she could speak, the visitor kissed her hungrily. Selene responded in kind for a moment before slowly and reluctantly pulling free of the woman before her.<br><br>"Heather, what are you doing here?" She said with a bit of surprise as she looked the brunette before her. "I thought you couldn't leave the courts." The young woman chuckled as she ran her hands through Selene's hair.<br><br>"I can't return to the mortal world silly, this club sits astride the borders of the mortal world and others. My queen bid me to seek you out, so long as it doesn't endanger my life to do so and bid you to come to her." The green eyes of Heather sparkled as she pouted, she seemed more a creature of the Summer courts than the mortal she was born as. "You've not been to visit in ever so long. Everyone wishes you to come. <strong>She</strong> wants you to come." <br><br>"So this is a summons to come to the Courts?" Selene asked carefully. She knew what she was, a creature of eternally opposing forces. The bargain she had made made her even less mortal that Heather in many ways, but even with her power and knowledge she was beholden to the Queens and .. others. If she was to refute the Summer Queen, she might have to face those others. Who weren't as easily refused. <br><br>"Consider it.. an invitation." Heather purred as she wrapped a strand of Selene's hair around her finger as she pouted again. "You never come to.. visit or play anymore." Selene flushed a bit, knowing what role she had been in on her arrival. After her victory at the seat of power and her new role as a woman of both courts, the boot had been on the other foot and many who thought they could control the upstart human found themselves put in their place. Hard. "My lord misses you too." She added innocently, as a chill filled Selene's gut. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>schnookums</strong> on <strong>01-10-2010, 03:53:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Meanwhile, in a back alley in London</strong><br><br>Hunter dodged under the clumsy blow of the thug that swung at her...they weren't skilled beyond the usual training the school of hard knocks would give such ruffians, but they had her outnumbered two to one. A jab into the man's chin sent him stumbling back to be caught by his confederate. She was holding her own, which she had to admit was something to brag about from someone who until recently had been performing as a mentalist for a circus. Of course, once you deducted how a human body can move, it was quite easy to turn that to one's advantage in the arts of combat.&nbsp; A keen mind and a sudden desire to contribute a little more to the world provided enough motivation to have her dress as a man and wander the rougher parts of the city. Finding the disgraced scientist who she had crossed paths with inadvertently was just her current focus, that's all.<br><br>"Look, I know you did a little job for a Doctor Tok...I'm willing to keep punching until you start with the talking..." she says. If only they knew who was roughing them up...thuggish types like this always had their little egos...<br><br>The one still untouched was having none of it though...normally not a problem, but he moved deceptively fast for such a large man...Hunter managed to barely dodge his swing, but when he quickly made a follow up grab that made enough purchase on the shirt she wore to tear it wide open. While *ahem* 'blessed' with a body that could pass for a slightly built man, there was no disguising things now. Nor was there disguising the look of shock that transformed into a leer on the thug's face. And behind him his partner was slowly getting to his feet as Hunter tried to cover herself with one arm. "Oh bloody hell!" she blurts out.<br><br><em>"I've gone from roughing up goons for information to showing off my knockers. Can this day get any worse?"</em> she thinks as her mind works on a way to fight off two men without exposing herself any further.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>01-10-2010, 19:27:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"No," Lucas said, running a hand through his hair as he stood up. "Those discussions happen almost every time I got out on a mission or turn my back. I'm just thankful they're so divided on what they might do with <em>Fides</em> that they can never agree on anything at the moment. Though I have a feeling they'll start to band together soon enough due to an incident in... never mind."<br><br>He smiled at her, sighing. "Thank you for all of your help in any case. New York, huh? Well, if she's there and using people there, she'll have to leave some sort of trail." He tipped his hat to her in thanks. "I don't know how to thank you, Archive, really. I didn't expect to get so much information today in just one location."<br><br>"I... I have to go now," he said, backing away to leave. He needed to get out before Borealis came to find him or something. He really wasn't interested in getting into some sort of fight over his broken vows with the faerie. "If there's anyway for me to pay my debt for this, please let me know! Again, I'm just so grateful, thank you!"<br><br>Lucas ran out of the room after that, bumping into some others but he didn't care. All he could notice was that his heart thumping in his chest in excitement over the new information. When he got his hands on that woman, he'll make sure the blood that falls on <em>Fides</em> is the rightfully accused...<br><br><strong>Outside</strong><br><br>"New York," he said, running to see Selene. His face was in a wide smile and his eyes were glittering with excitement. "I must go to Ne-"<br><br>He stopped and stared at Selene kissing Heather, rather passionately, raising his eyebrows at the speculation. While he didn't believe in the man-woman only law stated in the Bible, he did believe in keeping one's affections for another hidden behind the doors. Manners, after all. Blushing a bit, he cleared his throat loudly and walked over to where the two women were.<br><br>"Hello," he said curtly, looking at Heather suspiciously. The broadsword hidden from view and sense vibrating a bit when he got close to the woman. Another person from the lands beyond, he realized when he felt her aura and power. "I'm Lucas."<br><br>The Knight knew better than to give his full name to a creature of the supernatural. "May I borrow Selene for a few seconds? I wish to discuss with her about some information I have inquired for private matters she is aiding me in. It'll be quick, I promise to you Ms...?"<br><br><strong><em>In the Vatican...</em></strong><br><br>Pius finally dismissed the others, seeing that (once more) they'll never reach an agreement for the time being. As Carlo cleaned the table up and organized the transcript that he had taken earlier, the Pope got up and shook his head.<br><br>"Honestly," the elderly man sighed, looking at his Camerlengo with hopes of getting pity. Which he did. Blessed Camerlengo&nbsp; Carlo. "Every single time this boy breathes or moves, it causes a fire to stir in these men deep in their belly. I never seen such an issue before over one item in my entire life. It is something that contains Christ but still... what a mockery these meetings are becoming."<br><br>"They simply worry over the state the Knight Carpenter is in, that is all," Carlo said, helping the man walk towards the door. "He hasn't been himself, now that I think of it. He stays up late and refuses to talk to others when he is here. I understand that he is in mourning for Father Frollo, God bless his soul, but he still seems intent in anger."<br><br>Pius thinned his lips, looking at the Italian as they left the room. "He is a Knight, Camerlengo Carlo. If he is going to do anything that is against the word of the Lord, the Lord will stop him and let him have the chance redeem himself."<br><br>"Wise words once again Pope," Carlo said. Pius coughed harshly, heaving over in an attempt to get the phlegm out of him. His lungs aching and his eyes watering. Carlo rubbed his back, attempting to soothe him as he heaved and wheezed the very life out of himself. "Pius! Do you need your medicine? Please, let us hurry to your room. You may take your medicine there."<br><br>Blessed Camerlengo.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>01-10-2010, 20:02:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mine. Another voice says from behind Lucas. A man of sorts, tall and muscular, with a green tint to his skin, hair and eyes like clover stepped into view. Isn't that true Heather, my dear? The woman slips to the floor, on both knees. Selene's eyes harden at the sight of him, a dangerous hint of what she thought of him if she was this close to breaking the club's neutrality. I think you should introduce us, pet. The man says to Selene as if he expected her to join the girl on the floor.<br><br>"Lucas Carpenter, Knight of the Sword Fides." Selene said with a soft voice that reminded Lucas of the wind of a summer night before the onslaught of a storm. "Lord Greentree of the Summer Courts." Greentree smirks at her disconfort, clearly trying to get more out of her. "Take care Lucas, he's the inspiration for the Green Knight that Sir Gawain faced in stories.<br><br>Touche my dear, and you should take care with her Knight, she's more than she lets the world see. Selene's furious gaze stops him, clearly there was limits to what he could say about her. We'll resume our discourse when you are done with your dalliance with the Knight. &nbsp;With a mocking half bow to Lucas, the faerie withdraws, gesturing for Heather to follow him. <br><br>Selene takes another sip of her drink as she tries to calm down, letting the crowd put distance between her and the faerie lord. The air in the area was as if some disaster had nearly been avoided.<br><br>"Sins of my past, revisiting where they can." She says. "Did she give you a location? I can arrange transportation."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>EroticWinged</strong> on <strong>03-10-2010, 13:10:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				That night Emma was prowling the halls of the house.&nbsp; Her room, and the whole of the house, seemingly, were eerily quiet.&nbsp; The thick walls of the mansion were like unto a fortress.&nbsp; The thing that had Emma so bothered could not be puzzled out.&nbsp; She knew exactly what it was – it was a question.&nbsp; And the answer wouldn't be had by losing sleep.&nbsp; But the restless girl could not force herself to sleep.<br><br>So she slipped quietly out of bed and deliberated for a moment.&nbsp; It was late – likely no one else would be about.&nbsp; She wouldn’t bother with a robe or night jacket.&nbsp; Just her night gown would do for sneaking around.&nbsp; It wasn’t like she was going outside or anything.&nbsp; The rich hardwood floors were cool under her bare feet.&nbsp; The many rugs were an exploration of textures to her little toes.<br><br>She stole into the kitchen and tested the locks on the pantries and crept into the study and the drawing rooms where she tested the locks on the liquor cabinets.&nbsp; But this was just silly amusement, she was not really that bad of a girl.&nbsp; So she continued her explorations.&nbsp; And in the back hall, she heard a sound.<br><br>More quietly than ever, Emma moved to follow the faint noises.&nbsp; As she drew nearer the cellar stairs, the sounds became a little clearer.&nbsp; They sounded almost like some one moaning in pain.&nbsp; And the cellar door was slightly ajar.&nbsp; That was odd.&nbsp; Emma slipped around the open door, hardly having to open it any further to pass her slight frame through the gap.&nbsp; The stairs were not the rough-hewn timbers of any ordinary basement redoubt, but neither were they the dark elegances of the grand stairways on the main floors of the house.&nbsp; It was dark at the bottom.<br><br>Though she knew the basement level had several windows, it was also very late, and what little starlight filtered through was occluded by a surprising amount of clutter.&nbsp; In just three years since the house was built, according to Mr. and Mrs. Bronski at least, they amassed quite a collection of… well, Emma found she had no idea was all this was down here.&nbsp; There were crates and boxes galore.&nbsp; There were rooms and locked-off places and machines covered with tarps and smelling of oils.&nbsp; Emma as much felt her way along as she followed the strange sounds.<br><br>*Smack!*&nbsp; The sound came more sharply to her ears now.&nbsp; It was definitely followed by a moan of pain.<br><br>Slap!&nbsp; This sound was followed by Mr. Bronski’s voice, Emma was sure of it, but she could not make out the words.&nbsp; Finally she made her way to the very rear of the cellar where she found a light spilling out of another open door.&nbsp; Another slap!&nbsp; “You like that, don’t you my little coquette?”&nbsp; Definitely Mr. Bronski, Emma decided.&nbsp; Quietly she stole up to the door.<br><br>She had to be silent, she knew.&nbsp; So much as a tiny little sound and Mr. Bronski would turn his mind and his attention away from… whatever it was he was doing.&nbsp; Hiding behind walls, no matter how thick, was no way to hide from a psychic.&nbsp; Emma peered around the door jam into the large, dimly lit room and nearly gasped out loud at what she saw.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelsDemonsCode</strong> on <strong>03-10-2010, 17:35:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lucas watched the green tinted man leave with the faerie (<em>Is she one?</em>, the Knight thought) as Selene glared at them. He had a feeling something unsavory had happened between the woman and the supernatural but he knew better than to push. It was clear she didn't want anyone to find out about her past. Her smoldering glare at Lord Greentree<br><br>And, once more, with the barely veiled threats from the supernatural. They must remember the Law of Manners, right? Well, the letter at least and not the (non-existent) spirit of it. <em>Honestly</em>, he scoffed quietly to himself in his mind, <em>I am a Knight Templar for a reason. I had to be taught and educated</em>. <br><br>He already had an idea Selene was dangerous with the time he had spent with her. There was no need to remind him again and again as if he was an insipid child that must be led by his hand. It somewhat peeved him, with the way they are looking down at him simply because he does not have born or natural magic but only enchantments and senses as his weapons. He stopped himself and sighed, feeling horrible for being so selfish. He didn't see Selene complain about it, did he?<br><br>Green Knight... he had heard of that tale before, as a story Father Frollo once told him when he was a child. He didn't like it because it made his favorite knight, Sir Gawain, seem so flawed. But the details escaped him. He just remembered it somehow involved a year and some sort of challenge.<br><br>"New York," he said, breaking out of his wandering thoughts. "I must go to New York. She is there somewhere, committing her murders and rituals. The Archive mentioned that people are noticing it, so there must be a report of some sorts. If I can go there soon enough and get those reports in my hands, I can pinpoint exactly where she is."<br><br>Lucas made a face though, remembering that he must first get allowance from the Vatican to travel somewhere in such a hurry. It'll take too long though. "Is there anyway for me to travel quickly?" Lucas asked Selene, drumming his fingers against <em>Fides</em>' hilt, taking comfort in the sword's presence and power. "I must get there before she notices my movements and flees from her current dwelling place."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>03-10-2010, 19:15:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"He's trying to agitate me by taunting you and me. Heather has been his.. pet for over six hundred years." Selene said quickly. "He was my.. sponsor to the Court of Summer before I foiled Ephraim's plot to seize the power of both courts. He feels slighted that a 'mere' mortal could be as highly ranked as I and most specifically that I was able to free myself from his power."<br><br>Selene watches the faerie as she thinks on Lucas' needs. The fastest way would be for her to take him him through the outer realms but with her former master seeking trouble that was out. She doubted that Greentree would not have forces on the other side waiting for her. That left mortal means, which she realized with a smirk.<br><br>"I can give you a few bank drafts and arrange passage by dirigible to New York. I'm sure that I can give you.. say, ten or twenty thousand for travel and living costs along with folk in New York to render aid."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rukio</strong> on <strong>03-10-2010, 20:43:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Drake's eyes betrayed nothing of what he'd done. No remorse and no apology. He wasn't sorry for using the device on them. It was a good way to ensure they did what he wanted. Plus it only worked for the person holding it. Its presence in his pocket made the effects much less powerful, but it was still a tool of great strength. He removed the device from his pocket, showing the small, pen shaped contraption. It was no longer than a fountain pen and jet black in color. The material had no reflection at all. In fact, it seemed to suck the light out of the area surrounding it. Drake's golden eyes were hard, but not cold. He knew the thing was far more effective while he was in direct contact with it.<br>"It's called a complacency resonator. I have people in the field of developing such things. I am a very powerful man. I'll put it away now. It was simply a display of just how easy it would be for me to ensure obedience from most people. I'm afraid that there are anomalies who seem to be immune to its effects."<br>Drake slipped the resonator into his coat and the results were almost instantaneous. The power of the resonator only worked when they were near enough to it. And Drake's coat took care of that, storing it in the infinite depths of its blackness.<br>"In answer to your questions. No. I have no wish to keep you if you want to go. I'll let you do that freely. And As I demonstrated. I have the means to control people's very wills at my disposal. It's not perfect, but effective enough in most circumstances. Now. Will you two come with me so we may talk freely? I'm afraid that we are now rather pressed for time."<br>Drake could feel a slight chill in the air. He doubted anyone else felt it. It was a kind of sixth sense he had. He always knew when danger was coming. And it was indeed coming. And fast. Drake was feeling very uneasy. He wasn't keen on testing his immortality with these creatures. They seemed able to drain the life out of things. And he wasn't sure he was an acception.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>04-10-2010, 02:15:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				I nodded, the thing he'd shone us didn't scare me much people had been testing things on me as long as I remember and very few of it worked, maybe it was arrogance or just blind trust (a flaw of mine to be sure) but I really couldn't see him using that thing on me in any harmful fashion. "yeah lets go I need to move." I said kind of hopping from one foot to the other in the hopes of speeding everyone along. <br><br>I looked to Victoria to see if she was coming along as well, somewhat curious as to her reaction to the pen like thing Drake had shone us just moments ago. Idle thoughts slipped threw my head pondering why Drake would even need to control people but I let the thought pass figuring he'd tell us if he felt like it other wise I wasn't going to give myself a migraine trying to find out. I absently rubbed my temples where a slight head ache was beginning to build because of the use of my ability today and the lack of movement for so long.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jarod1</strong> on <strong>04-10-2010, 21:23:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As the power of the resonator faded Veronica let out a low hiss.&nbsp; She was not use to having her mind messed with and she did not like it much now.&nbsp; Even though she could no longer feel the power of the resonator it made her wary as she remembered how the power of the resonator had covered her with a haze of complacency that she had not been able to shake even when she had figured out what was going on.&nbsp; He was so very brazen, even when he had been figured out by Lexi, whom she was now grateful to for possibly saving her.&nbsp; He was not apologetic about what he had done.&nbsp; <br><br>“Very well lets move this discussion elsewhere,” Veronica said a dark edge to her voice.&nbsp; She was not as forgiving as Lexi was.&nbsp; They set off down the road and she moved so that she was walking closer to drake.&nbsp; “I’ll warn you now though” the half vampire’s tone held a threat, as well as a hint of worry.&nbsp; “If you try something like that to me again and I find out about it I’ll rip you to pieces myself.”&nbsp; Though it was not a fight she was sure she could win, threatening him made her feel a little bit less scared and more in control.<br><br>“Now lead the way Mr. Drake,” Veronica said her voice still stiff.&nbsp; She fell back a few steps to walk side by side with Lexi.&nbsp; Her grim expressiong became a slight smile.&nbsp; “I don’t lmpw jpw upi do managed to throw that off so easily, but you have my gratitude, thank you.&nbsp; I wouldn’t have had any idea of what was going on if not for you.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>04-10-2010, 22:15:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				I shrugged lightly and smiled as I hummed lightly to myself as if it was no big thing, because to me it hadn't been. Though I'd never encountered an object the likes of which could make some one obey, but in essence it was still a lie and there for had little to no effect on me, I'd felt it's influence when he'd used it, not to mention the cold chill along my back, but I suspected that was because of my fatigue today more then anything. I couldn't abide lies in any form so it had been completely natural to say something, almost impossible not to.<br><br>I skipped beside Veronica as we followed behind Drake glad to be moving again. I idly wondered where we were going taking careful note of which streets we passed so that I could find the place again if I ever had the need. Even though Drake was a bit underhanded he seemed decent enough and it might be a good idea to be on good terms with him as well as Veronica.<br><br>Glancing at my companion I tried to read her but she unlike a normal person her entire thought process hidden from me. I shrugged to myself really not minding too much, I couldn't read minds but pull truths from people and that in itself took a lot, and I'd already done so today, twice. Changing the tune of my hum to something quick and jumpy that made me smile and followed skipping behind Drake. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>EroticWinged</strong> on <strong>07-10-2010, 15:19:12</strong>
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				<strong>A Conversation</strong><br><br>Emma was out behind the wood shed.&nbsp; She was still a little traumatized by what she had witnessed last night.&nbsp; Not that the scene wasn’t entirely new to her.&nbsp; On the contrary, what bothered her so was that she had first-hand experience of such things.&nbsp; She had been only fourteen at the time and forced into the role that Mrs. Bronski apparently enjoyed.&nbsp; She shook her pretty head as if to dislodge the distracting thoughts.&nbsp; Ever since watching Hale heal that Mr. Fine’s face, Emma had wondered… and it bothered her to no end not knowing.&nbsp; This was the matter she needed to focus on and resolve.<br><br>*Thwack!*&nbsp; An entirely new, sudden and unexpected sound.<br><br>*Thunk!*&nbsp; The ground fairly shook with the impact, as of wood on stump.<br><br>Crack, crack… thud, thud – the sounds of ripping wood.&nbsp; Some one was splitting logs…<br><br>*Thwack-Thunk-Crack-Thud* …and apparently going about it rather quickly.&nbsp; Indeed, the industrious sounds of vigorous labor proceeded at an almost mechanical pace.&nbsp; And yet there was absolutely no hint of heavy, labored breathing.<br><br>*Thwack-Thunk-Crack-Thud*&nbsp; the sounds went on.<br><br>“Speak of the Devil,” whispered Emma to herself.<br><br>The sounds stopped.<br><br>‘Well, it’s now or never,’ Emma thought as Washington Hale stepped around the corner, pulling on his large shirt.&nbsp; Emma felt a trifle disappointed at that, as she rather liked watching the muscular Hale while he worked.<br><br>“Chickadee!” said Hale, a huge grin spreading across his broad face so that his bright white teeth shone in contrast to his deeply dark skin.&nbsp; “I thought I heard the rustle of a little birdie…”<br><br>“It was the palpitations of my heart, you heard,” Emma said as she stood up.&nbsp; She had been sitting on a large stump.&nbsp; “You startled me.”<br><br>A look of sudden concern washed over Hale’s face and he quickly stepped close to Emma, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” but he stopped as suddenly as he had moved, for Emma had flinched and looked ready to back away like a frightened animal.<br><br>Hale took a step back, he had been down this road before.&nbsp; His size was terribly imposing and intimidating.&nbsp; But this time it was painful to do so, the thought that he might frighten this girl for whom he cared so much was an instant ache in his chest.<br><br>“Emma, what’s wrong child?” Hale asked.&nbsp; He had to resist the urge to kneel down before her.<br><br>“I’m ignorant and self-absorbed,” Emma said, because she just couldn’t bare to get straight to the real point.<br><br>Hale took a long breath and a moment to think.&nbsp; He had been down this road before, as well, though with another.&nbsp; “You, me, we all are self-absorbed to some point,” he began.&nbsp; “I think every one is, more or less.&nbsp; But you and me, and others like us… we have an excuse, don’t you think?”<br><br>“Yes,” Emma said instantly.&nbsp; Then she stopped herself and forced herself to actually think on what Hale had said.&nbsp; Surprisingly, it took a great deal of effort, which Emma found disturbingly frustrating.&nbsp; “I suppose you are right, you usually are.&nbsp; Which is why…” she stopped herself again.&nbsp; She needed to focus on the matter at hand, not incidental distractions.&nbsp; “I notice you did not refute my claim of ignorance.”<br><br>Hale smiled again, “I will be honest with you, Emma.&nbsp; I always have…”<br><br>“Then be honest with me, now!” Emma fairly shouted.&nbsp; Hale actually leaned backward, so taken aback was he by the girl’s outburst.&nbsp; “I’m sorry,” she said, taking a deep breath.&nbsp; “I’m trying to find the courage to ask you a question.”<br><br>“Will you walk with me?” Hale asked, holding out a huge hand toward the open fields and wooded expanse of the estate’s back lots.&nbsp; A tiny smile pulled at the corners of Emma’s mouth ever so briefly.<br><br>They strolled along the open country, keeping the woods to their right.&nbsp; “I’ve seen you demonstrate more courage than most men would show in less trying circumstances,” Hale began, thinking he had a good idea about what question – or questions – Emma wanted to ask.<br><br>Emma said nothing for a while, walking silently as she remembered the events of less than a year ago.&nbsp; She remembered waking up, bound and gagged and blindfolded in the back of a wagon driven by Hale.&nbsp; Hale, for his part, knew better than to push the girl.&nbsp; He simply walked and waited.&nbsp; The poor girl needed to think and he would let her take all the time she needed to ask her question.<br><br>“Yes,” Emma said at length.&nbsp; They had walked nearly a mile.&nbsp; “Even when you had me on your lap,” she began, recalling how he had used her in an attempt to manipulate some one else, some one she loved.&nbsp; She had to suppress a shiver at the memory of his massive hand around her thin neck.&nbsp; He could have plucked her head off with a simple twitch of his wrist.&nbsp; She remembered him whispering in her ear, promising he would not hurt her.&nbsp; “Even then you were honest with me.”<br><br>Hale tried to hide his heavy sigh, but he still hung his head low.&nbsp; How could he possibly explain how terribly sorry he was for that awful incident?&nbsp; He had not wanted to use Emma like a pawn.<br><br>“Ha!” said Emma, as if in victory.&nbsp; She even smiled brightly.&nbsp; “I forgave you for that long ago, you know,” she added, now grinning from ear to pretty ear.&nbsp; “So stop looking so dog faced.”&nbsp; Her smile was infectious.<br><br>Hale was confused by her sudden laughter and infinitely relieved to hear her forgiveness – as if he had not really believed it the first time she had forgiven him many, many months ago.&nbsp; "Then why are you laughing?” he asked.<br><br>“I did it!” Emma said cheerily, “I actually figured out what you were thinking… while we were talking!” she added.<br><br>“So you’re psychic, now?” Hale asked, smiling as well.<br><br>“Noooo…”<br><br>Hale held up a huge hand to forestall Emma.&nbsp; He was only joking, after all.&nbsp; “Perhaps you’re not so ignorant, after all?”<br><br>“I’m learning,” Emma said as they stopped walking.&nbsp; They had been for some time walking alongside a rustic old split-log fence and had now come to a corner such that it seemed they had reached the rearmost extent of the estate.&nbsp; But the woods that stretched well beyond the fence were also part of the Bronski’s property.<br><br>Hale leaned on the fence and the rail creaked dangerously, so much so that he had to stand on his own.&nbsp; “Then ask me your question and be less ignorant, still.”<br><br>Emma glanced nervously up at Hale.&nbsp; The man sure knew how to get to the point, she thought.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>09-10-2010, 09:59:59</strong>
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				<strong>The Kane Town house, London. The Next Morning</strong><br><br>"Did he get to the flight on time?" Selene asked as she sat down at the table, pausing to take a warm towel to her bruised face.<br><br>"Yes miss, he did. Thought I don't think he'd like knowing he missed the hurly burly that went on after you sent us off to take him to the aerofield." He paused before placing a tray with a single sealed letter on it before her. "This came, by royal page." <br><br>Selene took the letter and opened it with the knife by her plate. She was not entirely recovered from the exertions of the night, she had to tap into potent forces to do what she did. Even her own reserves were not limitless, and calling upon the forces she had called up was impressive. She set the knife aside and unfolded the letter as Hightower placed the tray before her. <br><br>"Ah, the Lord Chamberlain wishes me to ..attend to the matters of last night. I am expected at Whitehall by 1 this afternoon to account for my actions. Her majesty is.. upset by my actions and wishes to know why I had done the things I did. Apparently there was someone in the palace who sensed my calling before we chased Greentree into the other world. I wonder what the Lord Chamberlain will think if he realized I helped a Knight to leave the Realm with one of the Swords of the Cross?"<br><br>"I imagine that he would be.. distressed greatly Miss." <br><br>Selene smiled at the thought. <br><br>"Thank you Hightower, that makes the morning that much better."<br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>25-03-2011, 07:00:54</strong>
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				<strong>White Hall, London. Promptly at Thirty after Noon.</strong><br><br>Selene stepped out of the coach and paused to look at Hightower and the coachmen. <br><br>"I imagine that I shall be some time, if you like you two can return at nightfall to see if the Lord Chamberlain is done screaming at me in his high pitched girly voice." Selene said as she flicked open her fan and waved it over her face. She rarely enjoyed courtly dress, but knowing if she acted like a court twit would drive the Lord Chamberlain even more crazy made it worth the effort. That and it would be about the only way she could justify the amount of make up to hide her injuries. <br><br>She walked up to the entrance where a page was waiting for her. She knew that the moment she'd gotten into the district that the Crown agents knew she was approaching. She had helped set these roles and actions in place, once upon a time. Of course that was before she had wound up in her current.. situation. <br><br>"Ah Lady Kane." The page said with a polite smile and bow. "Shall I notify the Chamberlain you're here early?"<br><br>"No Malcolm, I think I'll exercise the prerogative of my position and go in without announcement."<br><br>"Ah, I shall inform the staff that the Faerie Courts Representative without Portfolio is in the building." The page said as he held the inner doors open for her. "Will you be expecting either of the Ambassadors coming to join you?"<br><br>"Goddess and Consort, I hope not. Last thing I need is Summer or Winter riding to save the day. How many folks were caught in my Calling?" She asked as another man joined her walking down the hall. Lord Giles shrugged as her conversation went from the page to the Lord Chamberlain's aide de camp.<br><br>"Oh not too much that we can tell. Two Peelers on patrol, one coachman and two tramps. The policemen are at Saint Judes in recovery, the coachman likewise, and the tramps were quietly paid off and sent to an ..facility for the ..overburdened. What the hell you were you thinking Selene. You called THEM .. in CENTRAL bloody LONDON. We're just damned lucky they chased a man who could retreat into the Otherside."<br><br>"Indeed Lady Kane." A dry high pitched voice called from the end office of the hall. "Please, join us and explain what possessed the Joint Court's Envoy to use High Magick in Central London. Giles, I shall be expecting someone from the Palace shortly, please have whoever they send over sent right in. I expect it will be someone from the Magistrate's off."<br><br>"You hope." Selene said with a sly smile.<br><br>"Lady Kane, your. antics of late have been.. quite telling on the Crown's patience." Lord Alexander Harris, the Lord Chamberlain, said as he motioned her in and closed the door behind them. "The..event at Lord Fisk's estate for example."<br><br>"I seem to recall you asking me to do something about him in the past." Selene said as she walked over to hidden bar and opened it. Pouring a thick cut glass of double malt and setting it aside, before pouring herself another. <br><br>"Hells above Selene, what were you thinking?" Alex Harris asked as he took his glass and a cigar and sitting down. Putting aside their public disregard for one another.&nbsp; The carefully cultivated disregard and rivalry of the two of them helped them manipulate threats to the crown that otherwise might have not been found. It was a tricky sort of detente that they worked out with the Queen herself. "Bad enough you torch the leech like you did..."<br><br>"You had a black seal warrant on him for as long as you've been in this office." Selene pointed out as she lit the cigar with a flourish of her hand. "You've asked me at least THREE times since I got back from New York to get rid of him."<br><br>"True..and the Queen is quite happy to see the old leech gone." He said as he held the cigar up with a questioning look at her. Selene sighed and rolled her eyes as she lit his from across the room. "Thank you my dear. We still have the other matter. Who did you call the Bloody Great Hunt for?"<br><br>"Greentree." Selene said simply before angrily chewing on her cigar. "He killed someone close to me last night. One of the oldest Feytouched I have ever met. Her name was Heather and she last walked the mortal lands when the seals on the Magna Carta were still wet. He commanded her to fetch me back to the steps from my coach, knowing that she'd die when she touched the soil outside the club grounds. She didn't suffer, at least. One moment she was there, pulling at my sleeve while I was waiting for my Hanson Coach.. " Selene's voice faltered to a stop. "The next.. I was holding the charm I bought her in Hob's Market and the dust of her mortal remains blowing away on the night's breeze."<br><br>"I am sorry for your loss, you had spoken of how Heather had educated you in the ways of the Summer Court.. but you didnt' break the club's grounds ..what happened next?" Selene's smile turned wicked as she looked at her old friend.<br><br>"He stepped off the grounds to gloat." She said with cold fury. "And I challenged him. Greatest feat of magic."<br><br>"What did he do?"<br><br>"Nothing..the fool thought I had forgotten he was foresworn, he promised me long ago to protect Heather. I called the Huntsman, and when he stepped into this Realm, I declared Greentree foresworn."<br><br>"I trust he won't be coming back?" Selene's smile grew deeper at Harris' question. <br><br>"Oh no my lord, he won't be." She said quietly. "And I have to report that an item on the Powers List has left the country." She said as she sat back. Alexander took another swallow of the his drink, this was going to be a long afternoon and possibly evening. Especially if the opposition in Parliament hear of last night's events. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Brittlby</strong> on <strong>25-03-2011, 09:35:50</strong>
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				Adelaide Meek lifted her pistol in the rain. The rainwater was tainted black as it fell from her hair, staining the pale wooden deck of the vessel indigo. Rivulets of ink ran down her pale face as she swept her bangs out of her eyes, her teeth standing out starkly from her slick black lips, "... why don't we talk, girl?"<br><br>The woman responded quite predictably with silence. That was all she ever seemed to bring to the table. This was the third time Adel had crossed paths with the Courier, and she had yet to get a word out of the strange woman. <br><br>The bitch had picked up a new tweed suit and parasol since Tuesday, but the blandly arrogant smile was the same one she'd worn earlier in the week. Confident and amused.<br><br>Adelaide had to admit she was having fun too. There were so few extraordinary people, when she crossed paths with one, she liked to savor the moment. She pulled back the hammer of her Colt with a solid "thunk", knowing full well The Courier didn't fear bullets. She was above such paltry concerns. But then Adel wasn't shooting to kill. Miss Meek was just trying to piss the tweed bitch off.<br><br>She knew from experience that it didn't matter how powerful you were. No one liked getting shot, "Come on, girl. We'll get out of the rain, get a couple of drinks. I'll pick up the tab, and then you can let me take that troublesome gift off of your hands. You could settle down. Live a normal life. Have some unsettling mute and badly dressed children."<br><br>The Courier gripped her parasol at the middle, playfully tipping her bolder hat upwards with the curved grip of her weapon. Her thick mane of blond curls were impervious to the rain. Like a china doll's hair, it seemed to have an unnatural buoyancy. Her smile was equally impervious to Adel's threats.<br><br>Adel sighed in that brief moment. She was a negotiator by trade. It was always quite disappointing for her when discussion broke down and the fighting started. There was only the slightest shift in The Courier's demeanor. A twinkle in the eye. But Adelaide knew that they were finished talking.<br><br>Her finger tensed around the trigger of her pistol, when the cylinder inexplicably snapped open, the spring-loaded chamber spitting out the shells onto the deck. She froze, still holding the empty pistol impotently at The Courier. Meek ran her tongue across her teeth, chuckling softly to herself, "Nice."<br><br>It was what the Courier did. She opened things. Lock boxes, puzzles, doors, anything. Even things that had no business opening. Even herself. They called her the Courier because of her penchant for hiding things inside her own body.<br><br>She gripped at the lapel of her tweed suit, her white gloved fingers sinking through tweed into the flesh of her chest bloodlessly. There was a "click" as of a key turning as her ribcage opened up like a cabinet, a dull roar escaping her chest cavity. It was the noise one could hear at the mouth of a particularly deep and dry well, suggesting an unfathomable depth.<br><br>Adelaide Meek twisted her wrist sharply, the Colt's cylinder snapping closed. Something reached out of the Courier as Adel holstered her weapon, "I wish we could have talked it out, girl." The Courier's veins stood out with an infectious purple hue beneath her pale skin, her breathing suddenly labored. The rain sizzled as it touched her flesh, boiling away as her "package" reached out an appendage that was sickly grey, twisted and gnarled flesh stretched at grotesque angles across it's bones.<br><br>"Now, I'm going to have to kill you and your ugly friend."<br><br><strong>Chichester Cathedral, Three Days Earlier</strong><br>Morris followed Bishop Sherbone into the crypt. It was soothing to Morris, the damp lichen caked stone reminding him of nothing so much as his wine cellar. It was soothing to the aborigine as well, reminding her of nothing so much as a tomb. McFlynn liked dead people. They were quiet and vastly more trustworthy than their breathing counterparts. <br><br>And she was in need of soothing after her encounter on the rails. With her rifle slung across her shoulders, she wrapped her arms around the butt and barrel, looking like nothing so much as a scarecrow as she followed her employers. <br><br>Gripping the rifle kept her fingers from shaking. She had not tasted fear since she had murdered her father. It brought back a host of feelings she didn't much care to deal with. As such she had resolved to confront her fear, only next time with a substantially larger gun. The thing that had crawled out of that odd woman in tweed would stay down if she put enough lead in it, she was relatively sure.<br><br>Bishop Sherbone lifted the flickering lantern to illuminate the way. Sussex born, he was one of the few Protestant clergymen that was of rigid moral character and unwavering piousness. His virtue was beyond question, which of course, led to many questions. There had to be something wrong with someone who was so focused on others salvation.<br><br>Both Morris and Catherine thought he was an utter prick. He seemed oblivious to this and shared his opinion for the fifth time since they had arrived, "I again wish to say that this is not a course of action I would recommend."<br><br>“Right-right, well no one asked you, squire.” Catherine replied from behind the two men, already tired of the Bishop's nasally whine. <br><br>Doctor Morris laughed affably, resting the palm of his hand against the Bishop's shoulder, “Forgive my guest. She is a hunter first and a lady second. I am aware of your concerns, Bishop Sherbone. Yet you must be aware of the Illuminati's agent arriving in Sussex two days ago, yes? The mercenaries we sent to collect the package proved inadequate."<br><br>Catherine rolled her eyes at the word "inadequate", contemplating beating the little bureaucrat unrecognizable. It was tempting, but charity work didn't pay the bills. Murdering for free was anathema unless she couldn't help it.<br><br>"So the train accident was The Courier? Yes. Dreadful business that.” Sherbone fumbled with a sliding lock that looked older than the chapel itself.&nbsp; He hunched over the light as he manipulated the latch with his free hand, murmuring softly, “But given the circumstances, I would think one abomination run rampant would be enough."<br><br>"The best way to fight the darkness is sometimes another kind of evil, my friend. The Courier serves the ideals of the Illuminati. She would destroy everything on a whim of her masters. If it is the will of her "Grand Architect" she could feasibly be the end of all things, Bishop. I am led to believe that your charge is more… practical. We feel risking a few thousand souls is better than losing everything."<br><br>“A few thousand souls slides so easily from your tongue, Doctor. Does not our Lord say there is greater cause to rejoice at the return of a single stray above the retention of a flock?”<br><br>“I am not God. I do not have the luxury of ignoring the numbers. As I said, we need to be more practical about this.”<br><br>"No? You will be fast friends, this beast and you, for she is nothing if not practical.”&nbsp; He at last managed the complicated latch, the door opening only with great difficulty, having swollen into its frame.<br><br>“I like her already.” Catherine snickered to herself as the men continued their little dance. She thought little of church policy, regardless of the fact they paid her handsomely. Church policy and morality were extremely pliant if the right pressure was applied, be it money, power, or sex. The Bishop would protest, the Doctor would insist, like a game of badminton they would go back and forth, despite the fact the outcome was predetermined.<br><br>They were going to let “her” out. <br><br>Catherine was amused to find that the Illuminati referred to their own pet monster, The Courier, as “Her” as well. She had no true loyalty to these protestants over their enemies, but the Illuminati were less inclined to hire outside of their own circle. So, it was interesting to her that both her employer and their enemy should have a bogeywoman in their vaults. <br><br>Unlike the Illuminati’s nameless trollop, this one compensated with a great many names. Some might say they were aliases, but point of fact, this was entirely inaccurate. She owned each and every name, bought with power, money, or sex. It was no wonder she was this church’s bogeywoman, because she had all of their favorite party favors tucked into her back pocket. The riflewoman couldn't wait to meet this creature.<br><br>“We took great pains to trap her here. Her guards are volunteers. They have been rendered mute and deaf for their safety and the security of this Chapel and Mother Church. We feed her once a week to keep her less... mobile." Sherbone explained as they began to descend once again, walking down a long spiral staircase. The thought of all of the weight of the earth above his head made Morris slightly queasy, though he kept such concerns to himself, enduring the cramped quarters.<br><br>Sherbone lifted a small black vial from the confines of his robe, the flickering lamp light catching the deep black fluid inside. It looked rather like a common ink well. He placed it firmly in Doctor Morris’ hand, before continuing ever downwards, “You may have the honor of feeding her. Give it to her, being entirely clear that it is a gift. She will not drink it otherwise. Be certain she understands and YOU understand that it is hers freely. You do not wish to make any deals with this woman.”<br><br>They at last came to the door. It was strangely inauspicious for being the final seal against the Church of England's most feared prisoner. Age darkened oak, banded with iron fittings and bolts, it was only unique in that it was remarkably thick, almost a foot and a half. The volunteers sat on either side of the door, heads shorn and backs scarred from ritualistic attrition. The wounds across their shoulder blades from self flagellation were at best two days old. They squinted against the light, clearly not used to visitors. <br><br>Lips stitched shut, their breath was loud, a soft moan escaping one, though he apparently didn't realize it, his ears having long since been removed. It gave even McFlynn pause that these men had given up their lives for the simple cause of keeping this creature behind lock and key. They cast a baleful gaze at the Bishop as they stood at attention. They had not seen anyone but the Bishop and their charge in some decades, and so the presence of the others could only mean one thing. Dutifully they accepted Sherbone's signal, turning to grip the handles of the oak. Their arms tensed as they pulled at the massive door, sliding it aside by slow degrees.<br><br>"She has not been allowed any visitors during my thirty years on these grounds, but I am familiar with the policies involved. You would do well to listen to me. Choose your words carefully. Do not agree to any sort of barter. You are not to negotiate with her."<br><br>"How long has she been down here?"<br><br>"Not long enough." The bishop replied, lifting an arm in the way of Catherine. She looked at it curiously, as if she were thinking about cutting it off, as he blocked her from entering the room. Morris entered with no small degree of trepidation as he knew he would be forced to leave his escort outside. On the one hand, he would have felt safer with such a deadly woman at his back, but his orders were clear. He was to treat this prisoner as if she wear a plague victim, minimizing contact with others.<br><br>She was waiting for him across the room.<br><br>With yellowed flesh and brittle arms chained to the wall by her wrists, she looked more dead than alive. Her chest scarcely moved, the only hint she was still alive being the occasional swish of her long blond bangs as she exhaled slowly. The living corpse reclined atop a pile of stones, and had sat so long in the same position, the rocks had begun to weave into the flesh of her thighs. At the sound of the door slamming shut, she lifted her head with a ragged cough, her skin creaking from the effort. There was a chilling moment as their gazes met, hers a blue so pale that it bled into the whites of her eyes. <br><br>They shared the long pause, neither daring to breathe. At last she moved, simply smiling winningly, her lips splitting open from the tension. It was the knowing sort of smile one might find on the face of an old whore with a returning customer. She offered him a soft laugh that sounded like something dying in her throat as he approached with the vial, “I am Doctor Carl Morris. I have a matter I’d like very much to discuss with…” Her eyes had swept away from his, in favor of staring at the black fluid he clutched in a white knuckled grip, “With you. I see. Forgive me. Would you like to dine first?”<br><br>She simply stared at him, a cord fastened between her teeth to keep her from speaking. It looked like a holdover from the Spanish inquisition, wrought iron and hinged to snap open and closed rapidly. Twisting the catch on the side, it came free from her lips with a sticky sound that made Morris shudder. As her mouth was ungagged, the Bishop gave the signal and the monks sealed the door swiftly.<br><br>Morris looked back nervously as he pulled the waxen cork from the vial. He approached her as if she might suddenly vomit fire ants all over him. Unable to resist, he sniffed idly at the vial, confirming for himself its contents. It was indeed black ink. As he lifted it to her lips, his hand shaking ever so slightly, she clenched her teeth against the glass, refusing to drink. Doctor Morris remembered what the Bishop had said and he murmured timidly, “Oh, please. Drink it. It’s a gift between friends. It’s… freely given.”<br><br>At the words “freely given”, her jaw opened wide, the shriveled remains of her tongue vibrating at him like a rattlesnake as she hissed excitedly. Morris jerked back, almost dropping the vial as the bound woman wheezed at him with a powerful need. Steeling his nerves, he motioned for her to tilt her head back. This she did dutifully, her jaundice yellowed eyes following his every move as he approached. He tried not to look with any greater scrutiny than the task required as he poured the ink well down her gullet, the viscous fluid staining her teeth as she gratefully gulped it down. <br><br>He gave it a last shake, skeptical that this frail thing would be of any use. She was terrifying to be sure, but then he had heard tales of The Courier that made him question whether an ink drinking mummy harlot was what they required. And then “it” happened. <br><br>The color seemed to seep into her long blond hair, indigo bleeding from her scalp. She gasped and struggled against her bonds, her body seeming to almost re-inflate with each choked breath. Her hair danced with a life all its own, dragging itself across the wall, clinging like ivy to the rock.&nbsp; <br><br>Black ink spattered across the stone, impossibly landing in the form of phrases and words. Morris could make out the stray snippet before the ink crawled further across the wall, reforming more glyphs and words in its wake. The language was puffed up with legalese and Latin, like a treatise of law. Looking back at the door desperately, he could see the words had already crawled along the oak. The ink had etched the floor beneath him as well, managing to squeeze beneath his boots, leaving the words heretofore and profit stained into the soft canvas soles. <br><br>He turned back to the woman, who looked much healthier, though still quite terrifying as she offered him the same cunning smile she’d tried to share when he’d first entered. Her lips were black and glistening as she clicked her teeth at him playfully, amused by his fear. Morris reached for his boot knife by reflex, eyes widening as he took note of the text as it slithered up his boot, the sentences scrawling themselves out like a snake wrapping itself around his leg. He jerked away with a shriek, almost losing his balance as he staggered away from the witch. <br><br>In a panic, all he could think to do was cover his face, keeping his mouth and eyes shut, for fear that the ink might crawl inside him. He felt it as it tickled over his skin, like the onward march of a thousand ants. The need to scream welled up inside as he felt the ink seeping through his clothing to caress his bare skin, but he dared not open his mouth. <br><br>Growing dizzy, Morris held his breath despite the agony of suffocation, his fear lending the strength of panic to his efforts. At last he cried out for air, gasping and choking as he fell to the floor. Wild eyed, he found the walls were bare once more. There was no trace of the ink across his clothing or indeed anywhere. The only evidence that the instance had occurred was chained to the far wall, her lips still stained with a shimmering black.<br><br>Gloriously crafted, she was as pale as cream and her form preternaturally lovely. One might think a sculpter had crafted her piecemeal, cherry picking the most gorgeous example of each limb from an array of models. One would be right, after a fashion. She nodded her head, her long black bangs shadowing her face as she pleasantly introduced herself, “My name is Adelaide Meek. I would be pleased to discuss your matter, Doctor Morris.”<br><br>“…” he replied before scrambling for the door, breaking a nail off in the rough oak as he scratched and pleaded to be let out. If he could steady his breathing long enough to listen, Bishop Sherbone could be heard chuckling on the other side of the door. Catherine had the decency to cover her mouth to stifle her own laughter, though she had decided that while the Bishop was certainly still a prick, he was a prick she could at least share a giggle with.<br><br>Meanwhile, behind the door, only when it became apparent no one was coming, and this was normal, did Doctor Morris turn to stare at Miss Meek. Still chained to the wall and smiling like an antique salesman at a duchess’ estate sale, she tilted her head to the side cheerfully, “Would it help if I said I was sorry? I do not often entertain company. I am sure you understand.”<br><br>Point of fact, Morris did NOT understand, but he was having difficulty remaining terrified. Too many years of rich food and wine had left him in no shape for a prolonged panic. His heart was pounding loud enough now that stars danced in his eyes, keeping pace with the drum beat of his blood. Adel tried to offer him a reassuring shrug, but it was nearly impossible given that she was still chained to the wall, “Oh, please do calm down. I am not so terrifying. I used to be a person too, I will have you know. Do you have any past times? We could talk about that for a bit. I suspect that could not help but calm you, yes?”<br><br>And so they talked. And talked.<br><br>Morris was well read in all aspects of the medical profession, his study extending from the frailties of the human form to the more delicate workings of the mind. He had done extensive work with Eugen Bleuler personally, and had an encyclopedic knowledge of Freudian psychiatry. Additionally, he had been married twice before. And so he knew she was trying to manipulate him. <br><br>Knowledge of this fact was little defense against her charm. He listened to her speak on a higher level than most did with the appreciation a magician had for a fellow illusionist performing amazing feats of sleight of hand. She mimiced many of his gestures, involved him in discussions of minutiae, while cold reading him like a seasoned merchant. Even knowing full well what she was doing, he couldn't help but be won over by her sociopathic charms. <br><br>They had discussed theater for ten minutes before he forced himself to remember that he was talking to one of the most venomous of Satan's children, "Forgive me, but to the matter at hand, what makes you think you are any match for this Illuminus?"<br><br>“What made you think to come here? I have dealt with her family before. You know from whence such aberrations as she spring forth, and also the stock from whence I come. Put simply my daddy is bigger than her daddy."<br><br>"Nyarla..."<br><br>"Tut-tut. It is poor policy to speak the names of unspeakable things. Unlike most of those dark things that are hiding in the corners of your perception, he listens when you talk about him. I think the theater is safer fare if you want to continue negotiating with me."<br><br>"I'm not negotiating. You know what I am here for. The offer is fair and not up for discussion."<br><br>"Hrmmm... If I agree to take care of your Illuminati problem, then your little organization will never again imprison or hinder me?"<br><br>"That is the deal, yes."<br><br>"I accept." She stood up suddenly, her chains literally evaporating as if they were made of steam. The gesture immediately took the salt out of Doctor Morris and he backed up against the door, suddenly once again VERY cognizant of the fact he was speaking to a monster. She licked her black lips again, stepping closer to him, "I hope you realize, there quite literally is no double crossing me in this matter, Doctor Morris. A deal is a deal."<br><br>Nervous as she approached, he tilted his head away, as if he were afraid meeting her gaze would prove somehow bewitching. He stammered at her, "The Church of England will abide by its pledge. This world is full of crusaders. You can be their problem. They will most likely kill you, rather than keep you locked away as we did."<br><br>"I’m hurt… emotionally. But what if I AM injured?" She moved in a strange fashion, seeming to almost glide forward at terrible speeds. Adel rested her hand against his chest, whispering softly, "I should like very much to think that you have concern for my well being. You are a gentleman, aren’t you, Doctor? Do you not subscribe to an oath of some kind?" <br><br>"Injured? Hah! I’m sure we can compensate you for it."<br><br>"... oh? You will compensate me? You ARE concerned for my well being."<br><br>“We wish for this to be a successful partnership. I am sure we can afford to tend to your wounds, Miss Meek.”<br><br>“Good.” She reached down to grip his hand, giving it a firm shake, her voice again playful and light, “Such nobility is rare.” Her grip was warm and strangely soothing. She had the distinct odor of freshly washed flesh, lilac and frankincense. He knew better, but his nose refused to accept the reality of the situation. He almost reluctantly took his hand back, rapping gently against the door with his forefinger, "Let us out. We've made a deal."<br><br>The Bishop hung his head as he gave the sign to open the door.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>25-03-2011, 20:07:56</strong>
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				<strong>Kapp Platen, Kingdom of Norway</strong><br><br>The men were tired, and more than a little confused in the rational behind their travel. The 'Herr doctor' had insisted they walk a specific route, throughout the winter storms and terrible paths. Only the lure of gold had kept many of the men from bolting back south as the storms. Thorsen, the expedition's head scout, had been sure that the men would bolt as the weather grew worse and worse. <br>Everytime it seemed they had reached a breaking point, the old man would find another cache of gold and other treasures. Not that even such treasure kept all of them together, as every morning there seemed to be a man or two that would be missing. He was down to a mere handful of men, five all told, and was almost at a breaking point himself. <br><br>"We lost another last night Thorsen." One of them said as they broke down the camp. The Doctor seemed in good humor, Thorsen noted, as he nodded to the man. <br><br>"Not much we can do. We're almost out of land and the old man can't make us walk on water, gold or no." He said as he ambled over to the cooking fire to join the old man. Everyone seemed to be feeling the journey but him. He looked up from the small travel desk he was writing on, taking care to hide away the strange book he liked to scribble in. <br><br>"Ah Thorsen, we're nearly there." He said cheerfully. "A few hours, no need to break camp." <br><br>"Good, we're running on the barest of margins now sir. Another day or so and it would be just you and I sitting here." Or just you, he added silently. <br><br>"Well we can set out after a decent breakfast. I think we'll just head down to where my notes indicate with one other man. With luck we'll be back here by sunset." He looked thoughtful. "Why not have a few of the men set up a longer term camp here, send out a hunter or two for some deer. We'll need a celebratory feat when we get back."<br><br><strong>A few hours later.</strong><br><br>Thorsen was cold, despite the clothing that he wore. It seemed the very elements were conspiring to turn them from their path. The Doctor seemed to getting strong in the face of the sheer adversity. Just as he was set to turn and walk away from the faltering path that the Doctor led, the storm broke and the three men stepped out into a valley that shouldn't have been there. <br><br>He looked around in shock as the Doctor kept walking towards a ruined city in the middle of the valley. All around them were the signs of a war that had long been over.<br><br>"We're the first people to walk these lands in centuries. Odds are the last living people were here a thousand years ago." The Doctor said as he led the way towards the city, a massive ruined building in the center seemed to be his destination. The further into the city he went, the more recent the battle seemed to have been. <br><br>Finally they arrived in the building. A massive body lay before the throne in the room. A tall man in armor sat upon the throne, his armor split by a terrible blow that would have felled a lesser man instantly. Thorsen felt a frisson of recognition as the Doctor walked over to the fallen giant.<br><br>"Valhalla." Thorsen said in awe, recognition as he looked around. The Doctor nodded from his examination of the bones of the giant.<br><br>"Indeed. Valhalla, home of the Gods, after the end of the nine worlds. Ragnarök has come and gone. Mighty Thor struck down the World Serpent, only to die six steps later." He gestured off towards the end of the valley. "Somewhere that way. Odin, the All Father, walked into this hall. His sons dead. One slain by base treachery, another in his fated path, and another, Loki, by the hand of a loyal Aesir. Heindall and Loki killed each other back that way," He said with a gesture towards the ruins of the gates. <br><br>"In the end, Odin waited here for his foe. Surtur, the fire giant. Terribly wounded by his fight with Ymir, having learned how to break the chains of Destiny. Without Ymir in the end to freeze the Nine Worlds, all that remained was his last foe." The Doctor pulled a spear from the body and in one smooth movement threw it at the other man with them. The spear slammed into him, killing him instantly as the Doctor walked over and pulled it free in a smooth motion before turning back to face Thorsen. <br><br>"Gungir." He said as he walked over to the man, his eyes freezing the guide on the spot. "Odin's spear. The weapon he broke the chains of Destiny with. It strikes true, but not flawlessly. Destiny can be changed but not averted." He said with an air of a teacher giving a lecture. "I know all about averting destiny Thorsen." He said as Thorsen felt his will disolving in his dark gaze.<br><br><strong>The next day</strong><br><br>Thorsen smiled as he finished breaking camp. The expedition had gone well. The bodies of the expedition had hidden his trail, the basis for blood magics that he had learned long ago. The last few decades had been greatly set his plans back. He had hoped to find the Thunderer's weapon but Gungir would do. It was a vast and powerful weapon, even if it wasn't an infallible striking weapon. The power in it would greatly aid him in his plans.<br><br>Ephraime Waite looked back as the storm closed over the entrance of the valley. A new form, a weapon of power and clues to the locations of others. Hopefully, hiding will be at an end soon. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Beautiful Darkness - EX, N/C, etc.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Callie Del Noire</strong> on <strong>04-04-2011, 20:13:11</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Kane Estate, a week later</strong><br><br>Selene sighed as she sat back from the massive tomes she had been studying. She had gotten a telegram telling her that her guest had arrived in New York, and she had replied back to her agents in Manhattan to stand by to offer any assistance that Mr. Carpenter might need. She had wished she could go to join him, a diabolist of the sort he was hunting would have been her preferred prey. <br><br>Unfortunately she had been ordered by the Queen herself to remain at hand. She sipper her coffee as she made notes on a pad, moving from the book she had taken from the most politically powerful vampire in England. The cipher was quite tricky. She was still fuming at Victoria's directive to 'remain at hand', without disclosing the particulars beyond the mention of Lady Annabell Key. The Queen's very own seer. Her missives to the woman were politely returned, which told her quite a bit since she had always been more than happy to meet with her.<br><br>Of course, she reminded herself, that was before she had unleashed the Wild Hunt on Whitechapel. Add on the passing of Greetree and there were more than a few in Summer who wished her dead, despite his forsworn oath. Only her position kept her from some of the worse. Several plots were in hand she was sure.<br><br>And Cook was up in arms at her insistence to keep an imported Italian coffee machine in her library. Selene had told Hightower that she hated a variety of dishes just to give the woman ammo to work with. She was rather looking forward to seeing how she could make a meal out of her 'hated foods'. Petty rivalries with the staff aside she was feeling like she was on the edge of the storm waiting.<br><br><strong>Just off the estate grounds.</strong><br>The last man's blood poured free as he wrenched the spear free, and he reached into the wound to pull the still beating heart out. It had taken a lot of time, and no small amount of power, to pull one of the staff of the estate into his reach. She had done her work, warding and charming them in subtle but effective ways. <br><br>Ephraim was impressed. The first time he'd met Selene, she had no idea of her potential or the gift he'd given her when they parted. The second time her power was beyond anything he'd ever expected to face. She was literally the weapon of two opposing forces. The three queens of BOTH courts had given her power, all to stop him.&nbsp; With a single gesture she had smote his forces at the Altar of Seasons down. <br><br>She had unseated plans that had taken him centuries to put into place. The corruption of both courts at his hands was a delicate dance the likes of which would never be done again. No one would treat with the Old Ones that he dealt with, Titania and Mab both had shown what they thought of the traitors in their courts. Rumors were nearly a decade later the unlucky ones still lived.&nbsp; Another rumor had been that Mab had offered her chief torturer to Titania at her request. A move of detente that was scary in it's implications if true.<br><br>The mistake would be to attack her at one of the four times of high power for her. The changing of courts, the peak of one court's power. Those days were very potent with the power she had on hand. No, it would be better to take a leaf from her own book. <br><br>He squeezed the heart, the black blood pooling in the circle as he chanted and used Grungir to channel power into the spell he set at work. A chill filled the air as the blood flowed up from the ground to form obscene shapes and symbols. Forms, black and unearthly, rose from the ground as a growing pool of black blood shifted. Beasts from outside the realms of Earth, outside the purview of either court. All around the circle, decay and frost flowed outwards. <br><br>Ephraim smiled as the quintet of 'hounds' formed and started to pace the circle. The blood gave them ties to the folk inside the estate. The man's kin. Not even the wards along the land, so patiently walked and set, could keep them from their prey. He let the power drain away from the binding circle as he walked away to the waiting coach over the hill. The 'hounds' turned to sniff at the estate. Sooner or later, they would find that chink in the wall of power and be in. Then there would be much in the way of blood and screams, and he was sure the other things he set to wait for the opening would open the chink in the wards into a full breach.<br><br>Then..he's settle up with his foe and great-grand-daughter.
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