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Post by aubrey on Aug 23, 2010 21:42:33 GMT -5
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Footsteps. Heavy; Thick; Slow. It was as if the oncoming being knew what lay ahead and moved with an anxious discouragement. Corridors, flights of stairs, unending hallways that appeared different and yet unsettling familiar, but a vague sense of relief clung to the man. They were headed up; it was the downward direction that should fill him full of dread. Awaiting him, just through one more corridor, and past a veil of thick curtains six figures lingered, ready for the arrival of their, although intrusive, interesting guest .
The floor was an array of multi-colored golden marble. Swirls of light and darker contrast of the shade blended together to result in a mesmerizing display. Thick curtains of purple and burgundy shades clung to the walls, hung from the ceilings, and draped over the singular entry and exit. Light illuminated through the grand space by candles alone. Old fashioned bronzed chandeliers hanging in proportion from one another cradling most, the others carefully crafted around the room on oversized candle holders.
The space was bare of decorations or furnishing aside from the two massive thrones centered directly in the middle of the space; surrounded by abnormally large pillows in a variety of dark shades. A woman perched herself on the larger of the two thrones, legs folded over the right arm, one perfectly manicured hand slight suspended, caressed by a larger one; the opposite swirling delicately through a mass of thick, blond curls.
Golden hues watched the entrance with a bemused light dancing through pupils, ruby lips puckered into an amused smirk. A thin, gauzy material stretched across her breast, midnight blue in color that left bare minimum to the imagination. A sparse more clung low below her hip, covering the private area that most females hid, but only barely. Brunette ringlets fell down below her shoulders, pillowing over the cushion that her head rested against.
To her left and right side, two identical males lounged lazily, clad in only black leather pants, a look of pure content against two faces that were angled in nothing but perfected lines. Darkened chartreuse eyes and full, pouty, crimson strained mouths were the only thing defining them away from appearing angelic. Thick and full lashes batted heavily with lazy motions of blinks, dark hair, swirls of chestnuts and coffee, were styled in neat faux hawks. Hands petted one another or trailed slowly across the curve of the females’ legs and arms.
At the foot of the throne curled the only human in the group. Baby blue eyes hidden away under sleeping lids, soft sighs coming from parted lips. With his golden curls and rosy cheeks he appears to resemble a cherub sleeping peacefully only his naked form and decorated scars over his body steal the image away. He was bound by a collar and chain attached to the wrist of one of the men standing behind the throne.
The stood silently, without motion behind their queen. Both in matching black designer suits, grey charcoal shirts tucked under. Light danced against their shiny black shoes from the flickering candles. One feigned silver eyes and a perfectly sculpted head of blonde hair, slicked back in a casual manner. The other bragged hues so dark they nearly appeared black, matching hair falling in straight angles, reaching toward his shoulders but not quite grazing them. Both faces blank and devoid of emotion. The curtain peeled back and a man was shoved forward, a low and amused sound growling from the base of the woman’s’ throat as his captors departed without sound.
It was such a hassle having unwanted guests, even worse when the said guest originates as an intruder. Nothing more than a cockroach, slowly scaling behind darkened surfaces, scattering frantically when light thrusts itself impatiently upon it. Tri-colored golden hues slowly took in the man before her. No…less than a man, nothing but a pathetic excuse of a being, one much lower than a filthy and useless animal. A faint clicking sound came from behind those parted lips as she slowly eased herself into the correct position.
To look at, he was an impressive figure. A towering form well over 6’5. Broad. Wide without being mistaken for fat, sinewed completely with muscle, tanned to a lovely bronze which might have appeared natural to those who could not properly tell the difference. His eyes were his only fault physically. Orbs holding an unimpressive chocolate brown, but the thick, tawny hair that fell in waves to his shoulders framed a perfect face that could only just be considered masculine and handsome versus pretty.
He stood before them naked, body swollen from the fray, eyes relentless in their study of her. Another low hum purred from her throat. A sultry sound of approval at the man before her – and only of how easily he was caught. Finally a laugh bubbled up and flowed from ruby lips; a sound that was unearthly and disheartening. Her form folded gracefully from the chair, the twins now caressing themselves and the human beside them.
The Were aligned himself straighter and spoke before she could as she sauntered slowly in his direction.
I am somewhat disappointed by you, Ice Queen, as well as your entourage.
There was a slow rolling shrug of her shoulders. The act could mean everything and anything depending on the situation. “I did not realize that I was here to impress you.”
He tightened, but did not step back as Aubrey softly caressed her hand against his bare chest, the warmth of him nearly scorching. “Perhaps…” her tone soft, nearly a whisper, “…You should be more concerned with not disappointing us.” Words fell as she circled him, at his back a pause, a moment of nuzzling his bare skin before he finally stepped away from her, but only far enough from her face. Her hands slid themselves to his shoulders as she laughed once more, completing the circle to once again stand before him, eyes blazing with the worst intentions.
I was sent to infiltrate your grounds.
His voice was a commanding husky, growl.
I was to submit to you, act as if I wished to be one of your lapdogs, and then kill you when you were no longer suspicious of me.
Aubrey blinked slowly up at him, unimpressed with his story. It was Kane’s sultry voice that sang out into the room. ”What stopped you then, Lord of Dogs?” The Weres’ eyes sharpened dangerously at the twin before flowing back to Aubrey.
I could not ignore the damage that you have done to the others. They did not recognize me nor did they aid me in combat against your walking corpses. I will not be your slave, not even in jest to attempt to kill you.
“Of course you wouldn’t.” Hummed softly as she turned from him, insulting him and his status by showing him her back, moving slowly back toward her harem. “Unfortunately for you, the choice is no longer yours.” She turned, a pleased look across her face as she gazed at him from over her shoulder. “My men will break you, crush you, and eventually you will come to me begging to be my lapdog.”
Never.
Another laugh, head rising up so that she was singing the haunting noise toward the heavens. “You would be surprised Lord of Dogs….” Her face was suddenly serious, eyes glowing brightly with the rage that hung in her tone and suddenly she appeared beside him, hand entwined through his lovely hair, twisting it, and pulling his head down to her as she hissed angrily. “What you will succumb yourself to when there are suddenly no other options.”
I’ll die first, bitch.
Words growled from behind clenched teeth. “You’ll beg for it, but you will never get the honor of dying at one of our hands.” With that final statement she shoved him to the floor, three males moving in silently to gather him and drag him below.
I’LL KILL YOU DEMON BITCH! I’LL BATHE IN THE BLOOD OF YOUR LOVERS AND FORCE YOU TO CLEAN ME…YOU WILL REGRET THIS YOU ABOMINATION! WHORE! COWARD…
His frantic screams died, Aubrey turning to glance at Kane before the group shared a moment of erupted laughter, even the live human joined chorus. ’Aubrey… Judge, the one with the blond style, broke the last amused murmurs. “I believe we still have company to greet.” His hand motioned out and she took it, allowing him to assist her back onto her throne.
Once again they waited, hands caressing bodies, as if nothing had suddenly occurred.
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Post by Giselle Audley on Aug 25, 2010 0:03:28 GMT -5
[atrb=width,350,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=2][bg=18161d] "So, vampire," she glanced up from the creamy brown of her coffee to the look of death. "Pardon me. Madame Audley-Trell… You haven't answered my question." The werewolf flinched, then diverted her eyes quickly, wishing not to look the frenchwoman in those spine-chilling gray irises. She would be angry about that, without a doubt. She made it painfully clear that her questions would be answered in due time. But instead of her steely harsh vocals, she received a rather warm chuckle. "My my, mademoiselle, you are a persistent one. But I can hardly blame you. I'd be the same way," Her thick, French accent was so much like his. If she wasn't so familiar with it, it might have been a little difficult to fully comprehend her words.
Do not empathize with me, vampire… A scowl slipped from her lips.
The werewolf called Katie knew she must tread cautiously. The situation she currently found herself sitting in was incredibly precarious. She had one shot if things got ugly -- literally. She had but one syringe dart of her venom left in the gun. By the end of today, vengeance would be her's.
She heard nightmares about this particular Parisian leech before she experienced them for herself. Rich, snobby, arrogant -- The name Audley was well known in Paris. They'd been around for centuries and never strayed too far from that massive mansion. Her husband at the time, John, a werewolf and frenchman himself forbade her to go near Giselle no matter what. The red-head was infamous for chaos and bloodshed. Nothing good would come of knowing her. John knew this very well.
Flashback two years ago. "But why does it have to be tonight? John, please don't do this, she could kill you!" John gripped her shoulders and held her gaze with warm, chocolate eyes. "Katie, I have to. Nicolas is my best friend, I'm not letting him go alone. After what she did to him… I'm surprised he waited this long." The argument was futile. John went, but Katie followed him. The last time she saw him was under Giselle. Her body glistened with his blood. She had torn off his head and was lapping up the crimson liquid from his mutilated torso. She remembered screaming and starting to shift before Nicolas's furry body smashed into her.
"Is something the matter, cherie?" the demon probed impatiently. Katie shook her head and swallowed her anger. Her hands were shaking. She removed them from the cup and placed them on her lap. Giselle's class and amiable words weren't fooling her. She'd seen firsthand this hellion's truest nature. Her heart was black. Her hands were stained with the blood of hundreds of innocent people. She must not be allowed to live anymore. Katie swore she'd put an end to this monster's immortal life.
"You're his daughter. Aren't you." Dangerous words. She shouldn't have done that. It was too soon. But she couldn't stand this anymore. Sitting across from her, sipping coffee, enduring the nonchalant chatter, watching her pretend to be civilized. Giselle's jaw clicked and her back tensed up. This time, when Katie looked her in the eye, her's were drained of fear and held only contempt. Giselle was on her feet, hands gripping the sides of the table as she leaned forward, and snarled in Katie's face, "Listen to me you filthy mongrel. You will tell me where he's hiding and I might just spare your life." Now there was that flippant temper Katie had heard so much about. She knew Giselle wasn't capable of keeping a patient and cool exterior for too long.
"I will not let you anywhere near him, vampire," Katie's voice rose a few octaves. She, too had risen from her seat. There was no going back now. "You have caused too much pain and suffering and I will not allow you to do this any longer." Katie was reaching for her gun and Giselle was doing the same. Suddenly there was chaos. Screams rose from the employees and patrons of the Starbucks. They were running for the door. There wouldn't be much time before the authorities arrived.
Vampire and werewolf were left facing each other, guns drawn and pointed, fingers on the trigger. "I don't have time for a fucking Mexican standoff, girl. Tell me where he is!" Giselle demanded in her native, screeching voice. Her previously calm and collected countenance was replaced with homicidal hatred. Katie's whole frame was shaking, fighting back the transformation. Her face was hardened with grim determination to put down this beast. "You murdered John," she said darkly. "Eh?" Giselle cocked a brow and ran through the names of her victims in her head. It was infuriating to watch this banshee riffling through the memories of her victims as if she were checking off a grocery list. "Sorry, cherie, I've murdered hundreds to rem-" "SHUT UP!"
Giselle's jaw dropped, the expression on her face clearly read, You actually have the nerve to cut me off? "He was my husband, and you murdered him! I saw you do it!" hot and angry tears were streaking down her cheeks now. She was trembling harder, the urge to change was almost too much to bear. The hand holding the gun was shaking. Giselle seized the opportunity to fire her weapon. The bullet ripped through her target's chest. With an earth-shaking roar, Katie fell to her knees, dropping the dart gun. Giselle stomped over and spinning hook kicked the werewolf. Katie screamed as the spikes protruding from the heel collided into her face, which fast became a sliced, bloody mess.
Giselle bent, grabbed a fist of her black hair and jerked her up to eye level. "I'll ask you one more time. Where is he?" Instead of words, Giselle received a face-full of saliva. "Wrong answer." The vampress snarled, stuck her thumb into her left eye, and thoroughly gorged it out. Katie shrieked and thrashed. "Let's try this once more. Where is Gabriel Audley?"
"Bite me, Bitch," Giselle shrugged, "With pleasure, cherie," She opened her mouth wide and clamped her jaws around Katie's neck. She twisted her fangs around for good measure. Her mouth quickly was filled with the heavenly fluid and she gulped it down while her victim weakly struggled in her clutches. When Giselle was through, she released Katie and she crumpled to the floor.
Giselle squatted next to her and brought her face inches from her's. "Where." Katie knew she was dying. Her body felt so weak, the vision in the eye Giselle spared was dimming. But she mustered the energy to utter one faint and final word to Giselle that would hopefully send her on a wild goose chase and buy Gabriel some time before his estranged daughter came to kill him. "Aubrey."
She stood up and moved to the side counter for napkins to clean her face with. So Aubrey. Doubtful that she would know anything, but a fast visit shouldn't hurt anyone, especially since she was already here in London. She knew where her majesty resided, but she was someone Giselle hardly wanted to get involved with. They were both rich, powerful, lethal, women. Both very well known by name alone. But Giselle wasn't interested in power play at the moment with business to attend to. Nevertheless, she would grace Miss Mayor with her presence just to be sure she wasn't involved.
Giselle didn't give the werewolf's body a second glance. She strolled over to the chair she previously occupied, removed her jacket from the back, shrugged into it, zipped up, grabbed her bag from the floor, and left the Starbucks via emergency exit.
In a little less than a half hour, Giselle was being led through the grandiose estate. Nice decor, but rather cold and empty of feel. Her own mansion wasn't quite as labyrinthine as this place -- with the exception of it's underground. It was only twists and turns of endless passageways with fun little secrets, traps, and hideaways. It was tremendously deep and vast, and stretched far beyond the mansion's grounds. Even Giselle could get lost down there if she wasn't too careful.
Finally, after trekking through what was probably the scenic route for all she knew, the journey was over and Giselle was brought into the throne room. She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. This scene was just ridiculous. If only her husband were here to see this. He would have loved it.
Giselle advanced to the throne as if she was strutting down a runway, removing her leather rider-jacket and throwing it over her shoulder in the process, revealing the black, half-sleeveless shirt with a laced side exposing hints of her flesh. She recognized two of Aubrey's groupies -- the twins. How could she forget the two who invaded her home with Sevanni, ripped Lars from the bed, and held him back as Black gutted her? But they were lucky sons of bitches. If it were up to Giselle, she'd have her revenge on them. But Lars saw to sticking her own knife through Black's dick while she was incapacitated, hoping that served as vengeance enough for her. He didn't want Giselle to start something with the twins; they'd just as likely play to get even, and Lars and Giselle had enough enemies to deal with. So they were safe. But she didn't know how long she could let that last.
"Nice getup, Mademoiselle Mayor," Giselle began, giving only the woman on the throne her sole attention. Giselle didn't know how long she could restrain herself from the inevitable jeering remarks about this eyesore. "Before I ask you what I came here for, I need your personal opinion on something…" pause for dramatic effect. "Would the bronze chandeliers do a Carrara marbled foyer justice?" the count was 1681 and she's wearing this and also, Hmmms. You can do what you want with this -- play pretend to piss off Giz, actually know stuff bout her daddy, or know nothing at all.
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