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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 12:45:23 GMT -8
The meeting hall of the highest members of the aristocracy - generally wide and empty on any standing day. Depending on what meetings are called and held, sitting chairs are brought to make a circle around the grand room to face the center, or a massive dining table with a number of chairs are situated at the heart to feed those present for the discussion. Each member of the counsel know where their designated seat is, no matter what the layout for the occasion. A set of stairs spiral up to an upper floor - where servants come and go to bring and take the furniture and meals. Seeing anyone of station head up those steps is extremely unheard of. Guards of many kinds and races are posted silently within the room at the support spires, outside the double doors, and within the kitchens upstairs - never to speak, but always watching. |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 13:02:43 GMT -8
Dinner meetings. At least she got a bite to eat while dealing with tedious things like this. The vampire herself made long strides, boots clicking loudly in the quiet halls, until she approached the double doors leading inside - where two gargoyle beasts standing watch opened it quickly so she never had to break stride. Granted, her two pets at her feet wouldn't have minded the breather - both men struggled to maintain a pace to match hers while still on their hands and knees.
Then again, if they hadn't been able to keep up in the first place they would've learned a while back. The chain leashes bound to the collars were good incentive.
She would enter the place to find the dining table set up and the feast already being brought down and displayed for guests. Lucile would round the table, paying little mind to those already present or the empty chairs of those arriving. She would take her seat, dressed what she considered her casual for the occasion. She was hardly in any mood for a dress or corset or stockings. She lowered herself into her chair, sitting opposite the doors so she had perfect view of any entering - releasing the leashes and letting her pets take up their proper place at either side of her chair.
Hopefully this didn't turn out to be droll - she was in little mood for chatter right now. The bored expression in her hungry eyes were a clear indicator.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 13:17:41 GMT -8
It wouldn't be long after Lucile had entered that the clicking of high heels on marmer could be heard from the far end of the room. Chataya was still in her slavers outfit made of black leather with only one of her arms and shoulders showing bare. From her hip hung a great leather bullwhip.
Soon behind her were a few strong men that were quite a bit taller then any human could ever be. They were dragging a chain with on them a dozen or so men and women all linked to one another by their collars. All them were wearing nothing more than just a few rags, though they had been bathed for the occasion. Their eyes would appear soulless and all of them had dark rings under their eyes from a lack of sleep.
"Hello, my dear! I am so sorry I had no time to change my outfit. We just finished our raid. This new choosing of slaves might leave the facility quite empty, and as you are aware. I don't like it empty." she smiled a sadistic smile before she would take her seat on the table. The slaved being lined up against one of the walls for the display of the covenant. One of the reasons they would gather today would be to choose new slaves to work in the Covenant.
It was only after all the others had been lined up that one more would be brought in. Instead of soulless eyes, hers still burned with fury. A few bruises could be seen on her arm and one of her lips was slightly crusted as it had been broken apart from being hit. But what was most notable about her was her bright red fiery hair, something that was a very rare sight in a world as dark as Helmfirth. "What would you like me to do with this one, my Lady?" asked the man who was holding her. Instead of by the neck, this one was chained by her wrists. "Just put her near the rest and make sure she doesn't disturb us, Seth." was her answer before she turned herself back to Lucile.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 13:40:07 GMT -8
Lucile merely nodded and dismissed the concern with a gesture of her hand - clearly not bothered. She would tug off her gloves and set them on the table as she reached up for a slice of roasted griffin that was on her plate, popping it past her lips and chewing on it thoughtfully - or at least looking like her mind was somewhere. Truthfully it was empty and grey.
At least it was until the slaves marched in. Her eyes swept over the females quickly - each one looked about ready to drop of exhaustion. Broken, they were; that meant easy transfering into Osseus's instruction would be easy. As much as the thing was a grand asset to the manor, she didn't care for making his job harder with rebelling slaves.
But the redhead... Oh, she was a pretty little thing. Both brows raised high as she looked the little creature in chains. Her hand had reached out to take her goblet - still warm from the fresh blood poured inside, but she hadn't picked it up. Now she was fascinated.
A slender finger would lazily gesture towards the girl. "And WHERE did you find that flower there, Chataya?"
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 13:58:10 GMT -8
Chataya's cheeks raised into a smile at ones when Lucile mentioned the little red head she had brought with her.
"I knew you would like her, my dear. We captured her during our raid this very morning. I am very sorry for the few bruises we have had to put on her, she put up quite a fight. I have never seen anyone like her though. Kissed by fire, don't you think? Of course she is untrained at this very moment, I haven't even had a chance to put a collar around that pretty neck of hers." She paused a moment as she herself was getting poured a drink. Chataya didn't care much for the taste of blood so a rich red wine would be poured for her.
"You can have her though if you are up for the challenge. It would be a shame for such a special one to die in my training."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 14:06:53 GMT -8
"Born of fire... she's beautiful. I'm glad you brought her in first - indeed, I think I would cry if she broke like the rest. Something like her... I want to keep for myself. I don't want her manhandled. I don't want her hurt... much."
She smiled broadly, her red lips drawing thin, and her tongue prodded out to run along the length of a single elongated canine. She wasn't hungry over this little thing... but it was like seeing a very rare and delicate porcelain doll in the shop window. Something you would like to own and keep pristine.
Her eyes would whip around to settle upon the Warden. "How much do you want for her? Right now. I won't let anyone else buy her."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 14:13:34 GMT -8
Chataya bit her lip slightly while smiling. She had known Lucile would budge for this one and it was exactly what she had wanted. A slave as pretty as that one would be nothing to her dead in training and more than ones the stress had turned their hair gray prematurely. It was best for Lucile to take her right here, right now.
She would make a sign for the men holding the girl to come closer. She would be yanked at the chain around her wrists, forced to get to her feet and he would bring her closer to Lucile. Close enough for her to observe the girl closer, yet far enough so she could not get hurt would the thing suddenly decide to leap towards her.
"Give me 10 grant for her and she is yours. She won't even receive a collar from the slavery, you can collar her virgin neck with one to your own choosing."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 14:28:42 GMT -8
The woman winced at the number but continued to smile, though she looked anything but annoyed. "Oh, you drive a hard bargain. Once my advisor gets here, I'll see to it you get the full amount."
Her eyes would move back to the little fire flower, looking her up and down. She was just so... beautiful. "... would you allow me to take her now?"
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Primrose
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50 
Age: 18
Registered: Jun 27, 2017 4:03:26 GMT -8
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Post by Primrose on Jul 9, 2017 14:34:40 GMT -8
A small wine would leave her mouth anytime the chains were pulled. They were right, she had put up a fight, but she had been punished for it too. Her body was sore and she had told herself not to do any more stupid things that could get her more hurt. And now she was here. Being sold like a dog and there was nothing she could do about it.
She looks Lucile up and down as well. Trying to decide what kind of monster she was. The chalice in her hand was her answer, she was a vampire. She would remain silent, however. There was nothing she could do in this room but to be quiet and try to not be hurt.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 14:37:49 GMT -8
She didn't even try to lower the price, that was Lucile for you. She was rich enough anyway. It was a steep price indeed, though she was sure she could have gotten more if she had been properly trained. She dared not ask that price of Lucile though and doing her a favor could only benefit her in the future.
"If that is what you would like." She once again motion to the men that held the chains and they would be handed over to Lucile. "I will once again warn you though. She is untrained. Even if she hurts you I won't lower the price for you. We made a deal." she smiled once more.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 14:56:22 GMT -8
The High Lady took the chains in hand - as gently as she could manage. No painful or cruel pulls, no harsh gestures. Her predatory eyes remained on the little Primrose as she took the steel links into her palm.
"I'm a woman of my word, Chataya - when have I ever tried to swindle you in gold? I pay well for the servants you bring me, and to silence voices that refuse to cease. I also pay well in any building repairs or additions you need made - and not just because I'm obligated," she adds with a playful sneer to the Warden.
Her attention would return to the fire flower, and if the little thing didn't resist or fight she would carefully try to guide her into sitting upon her knees. "Come now... you must be tired. And hungry."
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Aleister Crowley
Established
Roleplay posts: 25 
Age: 352
Physical Description: ==============
Clothes and Equipment: ==============
Registered: May 7, 2017 7:49:10 GMT -8
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Post by Aleister Crowley on Jul 9, 2017 15:31:09 GMT -8
Once again, boot-clad footfalls would be heard through the entrance hall as one of the guests arrived. Aleister's boots would land heavily with each step, but the sound would belie the necromancer's relaxed saunter as the doors were opened for him. With him followed two of his favorite playthings; one female, and one male. It immediately appeared that both of them were at one point human, but were now walking examples of Aleister's grotesque hobby - disfiguring the dead.
Aleister strolled in, picking up his pace just a touch as he walked into the covenant meeting hall. He spoke as he neared Lucile and his sister, Chataya.
"Lady Frederica," he said with a smile as he reached his chair to his sister's immediate right, choosing to not yet sit. "Lucile you prove once again that your beauty is not in the finery of your closet."
Aleister turned his attention to Chataya. "And my lovely sister. Pity you couldn't change before coming to dinner. I feel as if mother would have taught you better if she'd lived." No sooner was he inside the room than Aleister was engaging in another one of his favorite hobbies; needling his twin sister.
The necromancer moved over to the slaves, obviously brought in by his sister, and stood a step or two wide of the line of cattle along the wall. He looked upon them as a group for a moment before sniffing the air in their general direction. Living humans always had a peculiar smell, almost as if life itself gave off a faint scent all its own. Lucile and Chataya would know he wasn't at all interested in acquiring living humans, but this was his chance to look the stock over before it passed on and was made available for his purposes.
"But.." he continued to his sister, "You still do good work."
The slaves would be able to look beyond the aristocrat at his two followers behind him - wired, disfigured, and in the case of the male almost entirely free of skin. Looking into the eyes of his playthings would reveal a small light still burning in the back of their atrophied brains, as if some part of the human they once were was still there, shouting in silent pain.
There was a great chance some of them might be looking at their futures. Even in death they would find no rest or freedom. |
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Primrose
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: 18
Registered: Jun 27, 2017 4:03:26 GMT -8
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Post by Primrose on Jul 9, 2017 23:24:56 GMT -8
A shiver ran over her back as the chain was handed over. She had just been bought, the shame she felt was beyond describing. Only then she noticed the two creatures that were sitting at her heels. She was taken aback quite a bit. They were sitting like dog, their backs seemed slightly misformed and the calluses on their knees making it clear that they didn't spend many time a foot. They were (nearly) naked. The most disturbing thing, however, is that they didn't at all seem unhappy being there.
Was that her future she was looking at? She could not imagine herself being this women's pet. To walk on her hands and her knees the rest of her life. It made her swallow her shame.
As soon as she was motioned to her knees, however, she could not do anything but obey. Her legs were tired and even though not many bruises were visible, they were quite sore. It was nice to be able to sit down and rest a bit. "Yes... i am.." was all she could answer with a voice that even seemed strange to herself. She was tired and maybe even hungry, but mostly the thirst was evident. She was still to shocked to make it known though.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2017 1:56:52 GMT -8
"You never have, my Dear, you never have." She answered with a big smile. It was just a habit of hers to warn about payment rates. Not all her customers were as willing to pay her prices as Lucile was.
She turned her head when Aleister arrived in the hallway. Her smile disappeared for a second before she forced it back on there. Though they were siblings, their relationship had never been the easiest. They would go from loving each other to hating each other. But both knew they couldn't be without the other permanently.
"Well, I would just have informed our lovely mother that some of us have more important business to take care of. Like raiding Erstonia for the slaves that you use to wipe your lovely butt for you. Not that it matters since we killed our mother at birth. These lovely creatures don't become slaves because they want too, little brother." she reminded him.
When he looked at her line up she knew that none of them peaked his interest. It was only after they had died that her brother ever slowed them some interest. He would often come take some of the ones that failed their training or had died of their injuries to add to his own little collection. A twisted soul he was, her brother. Chataya herself much preferred her mythical beasts over the human slaves.
"Now we are just waiting on Osseus and we can begin the choosing of the slaves. Of course, that little one is all yours Lucile. What are you gonna call the pretty thing?"
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Osseus
New
Seneschal to the Mistress of Airedale
Roleplay posts: 5
Age: unknown
Physical Description: Osseus is an animated skeleton. From time to time it is wearing the flayed skins of humans or other humanoid creatures, these are almost universally ill-fitting, and bits of skeleton show through.
Clothes and Equipment: Osseus is almost always wearing the ermine-lined cloak of office that goes with its appointment as Seneschal of Aire Manor. It rarely goes about armed, but often carries a parchment scroll and ink quill to make a note of any duties it needs to perform.
Registered: Jul 9, 2017 13:11:24 GMT -8
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Post by Osseus on Jul 10, 2017 13:08:28 GMT -8
Once again the marble halls could be heard ringing to the sound of footsteps, a clacking bony sound accompanied by a dragging swish with every step. Osseus arrived not from the direction of the main door from where the Crowleys had come, but from that entrance that led from the kitchen. Fresh from admonishing the chef for his slowness at preparing the seven courses of food that Osseus had ordered, the skeletal figure made its way into the main chamber. "My ladies, my lord," it greeted them, wringing its hands together. A strange sight, even for those familiar with the Seneschal, Osseus wore an ungainly human skin that hung lose over its bones. Areas of the skin had been stuffed to approximate muscle structure, though none of it rested in the proper places. When Osseus spoke, the mouth did not open and close, instead it lolled loosely, revealing a little of the Seneschal's teeth. The flapping, swishing sound accompanying its steps was the dragging feet of the human skin that flopped to and fro behind Osseus's bony heels. The only clothing it wore was a purple cloak lined with ermine fur, leaving nothing to the imagination regarding the male human's anatomy.
"I'm afraid," it whispered to Lady Lucile, "that the marinated basilisk eggs are off. I've disciplined the chef…" The foods served at the manor were often a mixture of traditional dishes and bizarre combinations, given as the person writing the menus had no digestive system nor sense of taste, and relied mainly on the sound of the dishes' names combined with the visual appeal. The skeleton lifted a small silver serving dish from a side table, and removed the lid, then offered to each guest a warm, lemon scented hand towel with a pair of silver tongs, beginning with Lady Lucile, then on to Lady Chataya, who, as it thought may have been the case, had not yet had time to change from her workwear. As it offered her one of the lemony towels, it greeted her by name. "Ah, Lady Chataya. If you so desire it, there is warm water and a handmaiden in the Crimson Suite, and a ball gown for you, should you wish to change." It offered the choice subtly, making no judgement on her choice should she wish not to take advantage of the facilities. "I see you have brought quite a selection." it said approvingly, running its flaming blue eyes over the array of slaves that Chataya had brought, and it's gaze lingered long on the red head. Osseus had not seen one like that before, and as it's eyes roved over it, it thought of her skin stretched over it's bones, and yet, he knew that this one was destined for his mistress, and so disappointedly set aside his fantasy.
Onward to Aleister with the silver bowl of towels, and the necromancer was offered one on the silver tongs. "Lord Aleister, you are looking magnificent as always," it opined, sizing Aleister up. "I do hope you and your dear sister of course will be staying the night." It left the comment hanging, feeling that flirting too outrageously with the guests was probably not appropriate. Then Osseus's eyes alighted on the pet that Aleister had brought, the male former-human, whose skin had mainly been removed, and that Osseus itself was now wearing. "Oh, how amusing, the two parts are back together again," said Osseus, as it regarded the pet with the same face that the human had once worn in life. "What a splendid jest Lord Aleister."
Having distributed the towels, Osseus clapped, and a slave retrieved the salver from him, while others brought out more dishes to set before the guests. It then took its place, standing behind and to the right of Lady Lucile as it let the guests get on with whatever they wished to eat before the new slaves were evaluated. Should anyone require anything, they knew that Osseus would move instantly to see that their requests were met, no matter how trivial or peculiar.
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Aleister Crowley
Established
Roleplay posts: 25
Age: 352
Physical Description: ==============
Clothes and Equipment: ==============
Registered: May 7, 2017 7:49:10 GMT -8
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Post by Aleister Crowley on Jul 11, 2017 2:49:22 GMT -8
"As usual your rapier wit cuts me to the bone, little sister." Aleister said to Chataya sarcastically, his tone flat and dismissive at his sister's jab.
He turned away from the line of humans he was examining and began to wander back to the table where his sister and Lucile were seated. "You may provide me some of the clay for my sculptures but surely you do not take credit for these works of art." he said, motioning to the pair of pets that, as of yet, hadn't stopped following him like lost puppies.
Aleister's relationship with Chataya was at times adversarial as most brother-sister relationships tended to be, but in the more than three centuries the pair had been together, it was clear that one could not be without the other. Even in their most contentious they were two sides of the same coin. The necromancer may have continued to bandy words with his sister if Osseus hadn't entered from the kitchen; Osseus was no stranger to anyone in the room, and perhaps least of all to Aleister. Aleister finally took his seat next to his sister, and waited his turn patiently to be given a warm lemon-scented towel.
The male that hadn't left Aleister's heel stared at Osseus - the nightmare of a reanimated skeleton wearing the pet's own skin realized. The pet, of course, wouldn't make a sound, and certainly wouldn't move from behind Aleister as he sat. It appeared the pet would be forced endure watching the horror of a vampire's skeletal assistant shamble around in his flayed skin in perfect silence. The pet's eyes shrieked in both physical and mental pain and agony, but no sound and no movement would be made without Aleister's will that it be done. Aleister simply accepted the warm towel from Osseus with a bit of a smile.
"It is so nice to be appreciated." he said, speaking to Osseus as he wiped his hands with the warm, lemony-fresh fabric. "I thought you might have been interested to see the model the skin came off of. I envisioned it as a 'Who wore it better?' type of meeting." Aleister spoke of the human's skin as if it were a dress at an upscale party.
"I must say, I do believe you get better use out of it than he did."
The scene would have to leave little doubt in the minds of the slaves that looked on; there are things far worse in Stathmore than simply being killed, and dying may just be the beginning of their torture. |
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Deleted
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Registered: Nov 18, 2024 16:49:43 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2017 20:46:53 GMT -8
The lady was far from worried about the issue in the kitchens - only gesturing to the seneschal with a subtle nod of her head. Her eyes remained mesmerized on the girl as she brought herself to sit on the floor, merely inches away from where Reckov sat. He was her more seasoned dog, obedient and very well trained. Only his own eyes flicked to Primrose for the instant that she appeared in his sight. He remained on his knees, palms to the floor - hardly clothed in just a pair of worn full-length breeches and a leather collar about his neck. He bore a pair of surreal, amethyst eyes that were a stark contrast to his fair complexion and long, dark hair.
The only other motion he made was a subtle sway away from the girl - not looking to incur the wrath of his master by any means she saw fit.
Lucile would reach out to gently let her fingertips touch the girl's face, and attempt to bring her closer to her own knee - even going to far as to bring her head over to use her knee as a pillow, if she desired. And should she oblige to obey, she would feel the seemingly affectionate petting from that same hand - soft, gentle fingers running through the short, fiery red strands of her hair. "So lovely," she would purr. "And you are mine..."
There was a very quiet cough that was too close to a scoff somewhere at the table.
The High Lady would bring her head up to sneer at Aleister - despite the fact she was still smiling. "Your definition of beauty and mine are very different. I've tried not to question that. Just have care you have enough servants animated and ready to piece you back together if you want to have this discussion again, dear Lord Crowley," she replies with a short, soft chuckle. At least she wasn't making an outright threat - and here at this round table, she hardly imposed her true authority. These were the highest order of the aristocracy - making a joke here and there was common. It just took people like the ones present to appreciate it."
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Primrose
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: 18
Registered: Jun 27, 2017 4:03:26 GMT -8
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Post by Primrose on Jul 12, 2017 0:07:08 GMT -8
The more the conversations went on, the more she started to become disoriented. She had only come to Erstonia a short while ago and even though she ahd heard about this other part existing, she had never imagined she would find herself there. Every single person who had joined in had been creepier and more disturbing. She was about ready to just close of her mind, it was all she could do not to freak out.
She was reluctant at first to come closer to Lucile, only to make herself realize that it was better to be obedient for now. Her mind was to roasted to think straight and her body was too sore and tired. In the end she would give in to woman motions and lay her head on her knee. When the soft hands reached to pet her hair, she could do nothing but to slowly start relaxing. Her eyes becoming heavy as her exhaustion took a hold of her. SHe would not allow herself to sleep however and tried her hardest to fight her sleep.
Her eyes scanning the room once more, trying to just focus on anything she could possibly find to keep herself from sleeping.
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Aleister Crowley
Established
Roleplay posts: 25
Age: 352
Physical Description: ==============
Clothes and Equipment: ==============
Registered: May 7, 2017 7:49:10 GMT -8
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Post by Aleister Crowley on Jul 13, 2017 3:07:01 GMT -8
Aleister smiled at Lucile's thinly veiled threat, knowing it was in jest.
"Please dear Lucile, you misunderstand me." he responded as he surveyed the food prepared for the dinner. "I don't speak of simple beauty, I speak of art! Beauty is so fragile - so fleeting. Appreciated so easily! Art is challenging. It gives one pause to think, and to reflect. True art endures."
Aleister used a serving spook to shuffle a few strange-looking spheres from a bowl to his plate. The spheres were small, almost translucent with an off-green color; almost like peas if it were possible to see through them.
"I am reminded of our time in the East. The humans fancied making ornate bowls, glazed with different colors and designs - one might have called them beautiful. When one of these bowls cracked or broke, they didn't throw the bowl away, they instead repaired it. The best artisans repaired the cracks and breaks with gold, and once their work was complete, the strongest point in the bowl was the break. The gold served to highlight the break, not hide it. The flaw became a focal point of the piece, and the bowl was made stronger because of it."
The necromancer took up his spook and scooped up some of the spheres on his plate. He put them into his mouth, chewing them as each individual sphere popped with a tiny burst of flavor. He motioned to the two figures behind him.
"These bowls may have been beautiful at one point, but they were cracked - broken in death. I worked to repair them! I highlighted their shortcomings, and in doing so made them stronger. I have made them into art." |
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 18, 2024 16:49:43 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jul 13, 2017 4:17:14 GMT -8
Chataya took a bike of one of the dishes as well and chewed it soundless as she listened to her brother's explanation. "You are all the same. Portraying your fantasies into those miserable slaves. I guess it is clear why I am the Slaver among us." She paused and sighed before she got up from her stool.
"Now that we are all here and our food has been served. I think it is time to pick our new slaves for the collection of the Covenant." with a clack of the heel of her boot, all the 12 slaves would be moved forward right in front of the table where they were all sitting. Among them were 5 women and 7 men. Most of them didn't have anything special about them, but a few of them stood out. One of the men was clearly muscled, a slight six-pack on his belly and strong arms that could lift many things. There was also one woman that was very tall, even for the elf that she was. But the most noticeable thing was that one of the women appeared to be pregnant.
Chataya would walk up to that very women and rub softly over the belly of the slave. The slave did not flinch or protect herself and let Chataya do as she pleased. "This one is a special case. I found this little whore while she was apparently already pregnant, it wasn't until a month later that she started to show. If you would wish to take her, I will need her baby back after she has weaned it properly. It will grow up among the other slaves in the training facility and be sold when it is ready. I have many customers who wish to take young slaves, but they are very hard to come by. Of course, you will receive a part of the profit for your sacrifice." she said with a naughty smile. "At least she would be a good bed slave for anyone who would want that. Plenty of practice."
She would then walk on to the men at the end of the line. "This one also has something special. He appears to be able to speak multiple languages. So far I have been able to distinguish the common language, Isran, the language of the open seas and many others that I don't even know the name of. It might come in handy."
She had little to say about the others but what they had specialized in at training and where their talents seemed to be. After she was done she sat back down again. "So Sirs and Misses. What will it be?"
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