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 Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 4:11 pm
Salig, midday. The early winter sky was grayed over with a haze of clouds. Snow on the ground as usual, sure, but fresh powder laced on top of it and still falling in light drifts, piling on the backs of thick-boned horses as they pulled their trolleys and dusting the coats of furry-eared people migrating from one cafe to the next.
It seemed like just another perfectly normal day, sans the arrival of one man.
Perhaps it was the style of his arrival-- or rather, the lack thereof-- that turned heads as he trudged through the Aristocratic Quarter, dressed in little more than a dingy black overcoat and hauling the beaten remnants of a carry-bag over one shoulder. There were no trumpets blowing to signal his arrival, no carriages full of brushed white horses prancing merrily... just him, walking with tensed shoulders and a clenched jaw, toward the gates of hell.
... Or rather, the gates of the Baikov estatate, though he'd thought it was more or less synonymous.
Of course the grand marble-facaded manor looked classy and serene on the outside, but people were scrambling fervently for this and that inside, whispering, gossiping, barking orders to shaky footservants for preparing this and polishing that and oh, that room isn't spotless yet for him, make it so, we'll not any incidents once he arrives.
Perhaps he knew of the chaotic flurry, or perhaps he didn't; truthfully the man didn't care either way, just giving the heavy irony gates a forceful shove until they scraped open (oh god, nails on a chalkboard) and grabbing the iron, lion-mouthed door knocker to give it a harsh couple of thuds.
The grimace never left his face all the while.
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 4:25 pm
And lord only knew that she was doing her best just to run around and put some elbow grease into a little bit of everything! Because the more she kept moving into solitary rooms, the more she wouldn't have to worry about the eyes on the back of her head....
The eyes of that disgusting son of the household.
Who knew what this 'new addition' to the staff (some sort of a relative seemed to be word going around the maids, some of them were hoping to make a good impression on the man too.. guess they were trying for their M. R. S. status.) was going to be like if he was part of this family.
It was only when the real panic of the house had settled in that they were most definitely falling behind schedule that Tamara had made her way up into the upstairs of the house to try and make herself scarce as hell.
Maybe throw herself into hiding, an- HOLYSHITSONDOWNTHATHALLDONOTWANT...
BREATHE BREATHE OH GOD, NEEDED TO HIDE, NEEDED TO HIDE...
Now if she could find a way around those big heavy iron bars on the windows she couldn't get around...
....
Oh god, she needed to hide before this new 'addition' showed up...
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 5:20 pm
... Well it was too late for running and hiding now, because the grand doors had just swung open.
Frigid cold air rushed in and both poor (sparsely furred) souls keeping the doorway open shuddered terribly, all eyes in the lower floor suddenly drawing to the single looming figure on the p-- ... wait a minute, what? Why was there only one person arriving? And such a modestly dressed person at that?
Where were his servants?
His carriages?
His countless bags of luggage?
"A-ah..." The lady of the household-- a vaguely snub-nosed gray-black marbled tabby woman in her forties with dark ringlets and the most elegant of cream dresses-- gingerly stepped forward through the crowd of bewildered servants and young aristocrats (of which there were a few), gesturing him forward with a wave of her hand. "Welcome to the manor, young man... Please, do step in. The weather is dreadful today..."
There was a tense moment as said 'young man' (was he young? old? male at all?) just stood there in that same spot, almost frozen, seeming to contemplate his options... but then he conceded and finally slipped inside, permitted the poor servants to seal things off behind him.
"We're so pleased you came," the lady went on, approaching him with a forced smile and open arms-- until something (perhaps a creeping instinct) caused her to stop short of embracing him and just... nodding nervously instead. "Now, I'm sure one of the servants will be happy to put your coat in a proper closet somewhere, if you'll just--"
Again she stopped short, in an odd way-- but the strange person still obeyed (or rather, yielded himself to the suggestion) in silence, peeling the coat off (though not giving up his bag) and holding it out to one particularly shaky maid... who suddenly seemed terrified to take it.
... Not that anyone could blame her, what with the look of him. Good god, what sort of horrible eyes were those? And what was that mess on his arms
There was just something that felt scary about him... and it wasn't just the look of him, either.
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 6:47 pm
Tamara had loomed near the top of the staircase, looking down it as everybody seemed to observe their 'guest', a frown planted on her face as she eyeballed him (and the distinct terror he was inflicting upon the wimmenz of the staff), slowly backing up into her hallway of hidi-
OSHI-!!!!!!!!!
Seemed she'd been caught by that disgusting son, the boy (barely in his teens) giving her a sickening smile and practically YANKING her by the arm down the stairs, tossing her back into the fray of maids (violently and obviously) before offering a nod of the head to his...
....
.....
Well, he certainly wasn't smart enough to know how he was related to the terrifying male, but either way!
"Your trip wasn't too horrible, ri-.." He paused and seethed at the group of maids, all hesitant to take the guest's coat.
"One of you take his coat already!" he hissed, and while it wasn't a particularly angry sounding or threatening sounding statement, Tamara cringed. She knew very well what it meant when anybody in the house got mad at anybody else..
...
So it would be her stepping up to take the coat, not making eye contact of any sort while she held her hands out for it.
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 7:47 pm
Perhaps it was the eyes that really got them all trembling, really. He'd been told that they were unsettling before, even in his youth, and it had (quite literally) been years since anyone had been able to meet his gaze without a cringe. Even if it wasn't, though, a glance was all it took now to get the servants cringing and sending desperate looks back at their mistress, as if pleading to be sent away.
They wanted nothing to do with the feral looking horror of a man.
The arrival of the boy, however, sent them all off with little mutterings of e-excuse me or I need to go set the table, scattering in a way that vaguely reminded him of pigeons spooked by an obnoxious child... sans one.
... Huh, another no-breed girl, and for some odd reason or another the sight of Tamara had immediately drawn his gaze straight to her-- if only for a moment-- before (with an odd lack of force) he set the coat over one of her arms and leered down at the "little master" who'd dragged her along in tow.
"Oh, oh yes!" As if sensing the sudden tenseness in the quiet (and the fact that their guest's stare could burn holes into her precious boy), the lady of the stepped in. "Forgive me, you haven't met yet; this is my son Fyodor, the boy we requested you might be able to... ah... look after properly for a while..."
She didn't even bother to introduce the servant girl, figuring that it just wasn't needed, really.
The dark male said nothing in response to it, just grimaced bitterly.
"Fyodor, dear, would you show the young man your room upstairs? Best to get everyone acquainted with things, after all... and by the time you're finished, I'm sure those servants will be ready with a nice dinner for us all..."
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 8:17 pm
She'd only managed to get far enough away to hang the coat up properly before she could feel the foul boy's eyes staring at the back of her head, a frown forming over her face before she looked over her shoulder.
She was being beckoned to follow along after them it seemed, as Fyodor wasted no time to go off on his own way after he'd established that the nobreed was to follow, her skinless and stubby pseudo-tail curling up under her skirt to prevent any pulling that may have happened in passing by the mother.
Trailing behind, trailing behind, trailing SLOOOOOWLY behind....
Tamara made a point to not be within arm reach of EITHER of the men (or the f*****t boy and man if technical terms were a go), practically at the bottom of the stairs when they'd gotten to the top...
....
But it seemed Fyodor was going to wait for her.
Tamara just stared at the two from the bottom of the stairs, a frown on her face. Ooooooh no, she wasn't going-
"Get up here." he said flatly. Tamara didn't budge, looking between the boy, and then his mother, her ears sloooowly flattening.
"GET. UP. HERE."
Another glance up the stairs, before she finally started retreating away from the mother up the stairs, only having barely reached the top within a step away from Arm's reach.
Too bad the son cracked her head on the railing with a hiss and yell of "OBEY ME WHEN I CALL FOR YOU" before turning to leave her crumpled and clutching her head there.
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 8:58 pm
He twitched.
Or more specifically, his right eyelid twitched, glancing back over his shoulder as the boy Fyodor paused to make his stubborn orders and, in a rather disturbing (to most anyway) show of sudden aggression, gave the quiet servant girl a god-awful looking concussion thanks to RAMMING HER SKULL AGAINST THE STAIR RAILING.
... It was infuriating on two levels-- the first that it had been done at all and the second that she permitted it (... in some form anyway), earning the first sound he'd uttered since entry to the manor in form of a bitter, rumbling growl.
Not even directed towards one person or another, it was just sort of there.
But there was no commentary yet, not a word of it; he just grimaced (... good lord, those teeth he'd showed doing it looked SHARP) and waited there for her to get back up, eyeing Fyodor's back all the while.
...........
And why were all of the other servants and nobles averting their eyes to this, again?
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 9:19 pm
Condoned by her or not, Tamara again waited until she was out of arm's reach to trail along behind the again wandering son of the household, watching as doors were motioned to.
"This is my room..."
Tamara had practically clung to the opposite wall to avoid that door, which said little of what happened behind that closed door. Or rather what didn't happen outside of potentially bad things. But a couple of hallways, a library, a dining room, and various other places later, they came to what would be the 'last' doorway...
....
.......
"This would be your room, so go make yourself at home.."
Fyodor looked at Tamara for a moment, before shoving her chest-flat against the door with a hand to her back, a slight frown on his face as though he was contemplating something. But it didn't last long.
"She'll be here to help you settle in. Don't hesitate to ask her for any favors."
That certainly made the girl wince again, waiting for Fyodor to leave the hall before backing away from the door and pretty much watching the stranger's hands for any gesture or prompting.
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 9:44 pm
And there went twitch number two not five minutes after the first-- this time the left eye-- as he watched the boy shoving his little plaything against the newly assigned guest bedroom door, grimace sloooowly working towards a more definite snarly face that he could barely keep restrained at Fyodor turned back to give him his little 'instructions'.
Settling in he could understand, but what exactly had been meant by that remark of 'favors', anyway?
Thinking on that word, it gave him a strange feeling of disgruntlement-- even rage. He didn't like it in the slightest.
But no, there would be no more touring and hallway seething as his 'boy tour guide' exited the scene, leaving him with the feeble looking no-breed to... do something with, obviously, as she seemed to be waiting for his beck and call and wouldn't be doing anything of her own volition. So, then.
"... Inside. Sit. On the bed."
They were the first words he'd actually spoken, tone rough and sharp and oddly haunting, but... W-wait a second, what in god's name did he plan to... surely, no matter what a feral terror this fellow was, he wouldn't-- but he'd already made a bitter 'shooing' gesture and more or less slammed the door shut behind them and...
And locked it...
It seemed poor Tamara had just been placed in the 'care' of an animal worse than her normal 'master'.
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 10:26 pm
Actually, she'd been contemplating on if she had the ability to run faster than him or not before he'd established his 'SIT, STAY, ROLL OVER' (Oh god) demand, the girl wincing under the sound of his voice and half-shrinking up against the wall.
And there was definitely a minute of debated hesitation, before she looked up from his hands to catch his eyes (Oh god, they looked into forever!!) before she slowly moved to walk past him before planting herself on the bed, arms folded and ears flattened back against her head.
She'd just...
...
.....
Keep her back to him and just hope he didn't have any 'CLAW UP TAMARA FLESH' fetishes to worry about. Maybe he'd be repulsed enough by the state of her skin under her clothing to leave her the hell alone.
God only knew she needed to be.
Or maybe if he ignored her long enough, she could hide in the closet.
"Is there anything else you'd like me to do?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 12:59 am
He watched her moving with a mixture of fascination and disgust.
Fascination on the one paw thanks to the strange obedience she displayed despite her obvious lack of wanting to yield, and disgust for the very same thing. How anyone could possibly bow their head and shamefully roll over for the same of appeasement was beyond him... but what could he say? He was taking a sick advantage of the behavior and of her, too.
And he stood just inside the sealed doorway as she shuffled about, waiting until she'd finally slumped down on the bed in that sickening posture of failed rebellion before checking the lock (still firm), shifting his bag on that shoulder, striding forward to drop it on the corner of the bed and...
"Sit still."
Huh, well now he'd climbed onto the mattress too, not even bothering to strip his boots off as he knee-walked a few steps to get behind her, no doubt for undressing she dreaded--
Although there was a strange element to it, because instead of reaching to tear off her shirt, he went higher and, with and oddly careful (not to mention awkward) bit of fiddling, loosened the tie in her hair to pull out. What, did he like his women without ponytails? Although... that wouldn't have really explained why he was trying to part her hair and scrutinize it very well.
Just what the hell was he doing to her?
"... What side was it on?"
...............
HUH?
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 10:09 am
She'd physically cringed away from him at contact. It wasn't like she enjoyed any of the treatment.... but she didn't want her life to come to an end before she could free herself and actually live her life after all of the terror it had been for the...
....
Oh damn, how long ago had this house 'conned' her with their charity? Only for this charity to be shoved down her throat when she'd wanted to find some other place to sleep at night.
Had that been what started her horror?
That didn't mean she didn't manage to bite down whatever whimper she had hidden in her chest, though. She just wanted to maybe cry and then throw herself into the closet to hide and further contemplate a way to get out of the godforsaken household that had sunk it's claws into her.
And god she had hair everywhere. Thick and long. No wonder he wanted to play with it-... Where was what?
She cringed at his voice before sloooooowly looking over her shoulder at him, giving him a very terrified LOST CHILD look and flattening her ears back into her hair. What was he looking for?
And OW OW OW... Oh geeze, that particular lock of hair had definitely touched something.
Which of course in a dead give away to the answer to his vague question, Tamara reached up into the hair on one side of her head to feel around for the source of the stinging.
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 12:37 pm
Whatever he was doing, it seemed the girl had assumed it to be something completely vile (not that anyone could blame her for it) judging by the way she reacted, sitting there rigid as a board and looking quite ready to cry (even if she attempted the brave face) when he finally made eye contact.
Once again, he felt a twinge of disgust and fascination because of it.
But that cringe and obvious PAIN response was enough to clue him in on whatever he was looking for, (attemptively) taking a bit more care in shuffling through those endless locks of hand to find that spot and-- ah, there it was.
And he grimaced bitterly (and growled slightly) at the sight of it, too, obviously starting to swell already and no doubt turning into a horrible concussive bruise thing she'd be feeling for the next couple of weeks. It didn't look like the railing had split her OPEN to bleed all over the place or anything, but still...
Which for some odd reason suddenly prompted him to ABANDON his supposed victim by sliding off the bed (not even bothering to touch her below the neck at all, nope) and storm off (he seemed perpetually foul-tempered in his actions, didn't he?) for the bathroom, throwing a few cabinets open and more or less tearing through supplies for...
.... Hell, what was he looking for?
Just what did he mean to accomplish by all this?
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 1:49 pm
Okay, so now he was looking at where she was feeling up her skull, EEK! Oh yes, her hand moved away from it so fast, she almost scratched the side of her face in the process.
Okay, he liked that side of her head, what was he doing now, plz to not be of do- ohae, looked as though her 'agressor' had gone off to... to... do whatever the hell it was he was doing at the given time! That was.. interesting, actually.
Because whatever he was doing, wasn't her. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be surprised by it, but she certainly was relieved for the time being. Perhaps he was one of those fullbreeds who didn't hold any interest in anything but other fullbreeds. Which of course meant it was perfectly likely he was in there getting a noose to kill her with.
Okay, yeah, she was just going to..
...
Tamara paused and watched the door that Niko had retreated off behind, watching it intently as she sloooowly got to her feet and started to retreat across the room... okay, so if she could just play her cards right, she'd be hidden in the closet and hopefully forgotten in a couple of steps.
Since the damn doors creaked when they were opened.. SOOOOB.
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 2:13 pm
Too bad she wouldn't have the time to make it there before he reappeared, though.
It sounded like the bathroom was being ripped to shreds as he plundered through stacks of towels and shampoos and needlessly floral strawmelonwhateverthehell soaps looking for that special something, FINALLY running across it under the bathroom sink, shoving it under one arm and storming back out from the little disaster area just in time to see her up and on her feet--
... A sight greeted by one of those eery monster-eyed leers of NUH-UH, YOU ARE NOT PULLING THAT RIGHT NOW before, without even saying a word to her, he went over to the window and... shoved it open?
And what was he doing with that, anyway? It was FREEZING and SNOWING outs-- wait, was he scraping the snow off the outer sill to shove in that pouch-thing he'd dug up? ... He was actually, and after a couple of clawfuls of that had been shoved in, he tied it shut, turned BACK on her again (oh god SCARY LOOK SCARY LOOK) and bravely went right over to...
... Shove it in her hands.
"Sick back down and put that on it." Yeeeah, great instructions there, Mr. Social Butterfly-- but really, he figured she was (hopefully) smart enough to catch what a damnable ice pack was for when one had a giant hurting BRUISE CRATER in the side of their head.
.....................
So uh, did his grumbling and perching down on the opposite end of the bed to mean he WASN'T about to eat (or violate) her?
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