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| Favorite "Music" story? |
| "The power of the all mighty shuffle button." Naomi |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
| "Only a Hippopotamus Will Do" Danni |
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11% |
[ 1 ] |
| "Solo" Petra |
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11% |
[ 1 ] |
| "Who says Caroling can't be fun?" Arik |
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22% |
[ 2 ] |
| "Christmas with the Sabels" Cajus |
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11% |
[ 1 ] |
| "The Language of Seduction" Asmodeous |
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33% |
[ 3 ] |
| "Earworm" Ialo |
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11% |
[ 1 ] |
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| Total Votes : 9 |
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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 Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 8:51 pm
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 10:27 pm
"Edible Arrangements"
Danni Rinaldi Enjoying his daily glass of wine, Henri Belmont strode leisurely down the hallway, breathing in the scents of peppermint and pine. He loved the holidays, the music and scents that went along with them. The decorators had finished their work on the main parlor and welcoming area, filling the space with wreaths and garland, candy canes and fresh poinsettias. The parlor itself was dominated now by a giant Christmas tree that almost brushed the high ceiling. It had been expertly decorated down to the last bit of tinsel, a masterpiece of precious glass ornaments, glimmering garland, shining beads, twinkling lights, and topped by a shining crystal star. Around its base, a model train set circled round and round, clacking quietly along the tracks. It was beautiful, and well worth the expense. He barely spared it a glance.
Taking his time about it, Henri made his way up the sweeping staircase to the second floor, heard Dean Martin singing to Doris Day about how cold it was outside. His fiancée seemed to have taken a recent liking to the Rat Pack. Chuckling quietly at the thought, he opened the door to his –their- private quarters, heard the music’s volume increase as he stepped inside. And where before he had turned his back to pristine decorations, he smiled now at what appeared to be the efforts of an arts and crafts class.
She’d certainly been enthusiastic about the whole thing. He would grant her that. He couldn’t deny that he’d encouraged her, bringing her a book on do-it-yourself Christmas decorations. He’d even made a few things himself. But this…He was glad he’d told Bertram to avoid the East Wing for the day. The poor man would’ve likely had a heart attack.
Glitter, glue, and construction paper scraps littered the once-spotless wood floor, the microwave from the kitchen perched precariously atop the glass coffee table. He saw, however, that progress had accompanied the mess. Red and green paper chains were strung up near the ceiling, circling the room and creating a border around the door. Surprisingly elaborate paper snowflakes were taped to the walls, accompanied by construction paper candy canes and snowmen. He was wise enough not to let thoughts of grade-school crafts enter his mind.
As to his contribution, he was certain he’d won her good favor with the edible chocolate flowers he’d placed throughout the room in colorful vases, having seen her chewing on a chocolate stem once or twice during his curious ventures up here. But the flowers and wall decorations were nothing…Compared to the tree.
The Christmas tree was about half the size of the one in the parlor, standing only seven feet high. Rather than elegant or beautiful, however, even the most generous of souls could’ve only termed it ‘unique.’ Oversized M&M novelty Christmas lights were wrapped around the tree, joined by musical blinking lights that chimed incessantly beneath the smooth tones of Dean Martin. Garland made entirely out of popcorn –hence the relocating of the microwave- joined the lights, as did handmade decorations that were clearly the sugar cookies Bertram had made the day before. The sleigh and bell shaped cookies hung from ribbons and were nestled in the tree, joined by wrapped candy canes and multi-colored pixie sticks hanging by twisted bits of metal that he thought might’ve once been paper clips. Wrapped caramels had been super-glued together end to end to create chains of their own, running up and down the tree in their golden wrappers. And there, tied securely to the top of the tree by what he thought might be Bertram’s knitting yarn, was a golden star. A golden star made of a glazed cinnamon bun and five Twinkies.
That, he thought with a choked laugh, was definitely new. He wondered where she’d been hiding that, and vaguely hoped she hadn’t super-glued that together as well. From the wooden dowel protruding from the bottom of it, he guessed she may have had a moment of logical inspiration.
Shaking his head at the wonder of her, Henri turned his attention to the would-be decorator, spotted her flash of blue hair on the other side of the coffee table, her head tucked in concentration as she went to work with a hot glue gun.
“What’s that you’re working on then, chérie?” She paused a moment before looking up, and he barely held back a laugh as he saw the mixture of glitter and glue stuck to her nose. When he’d first suggested she try decorating the tree, he hadn’t expected such…enthusiasm from a girl who’d seemed so ambivalent towards Christmas. Now she blinked up at him, obviously lost in her own world, before she spared him a swift grin.
“Edible decorations. Do you like peppermints, Paris?” Raising a brow, Henri looked down at what she was working on, grinning a bit when he saw that she was gluing peppermint circles together into a star formation. A pile of finished decorations lay on the table as well, hooked with red and green ribbons in a way that told him she still wasn’t done with the tree. It was a wonder the poor thing didn’t simply topple over from the weight of her decorations.
“Oh, I like them fine enough. You’ve been at this for hours, chérie. Are you hungry?” Pushing her hair out of her face, Danni sat back a bit, studying her work and considering the possibility of food. A quick look at the clock told her she’d been having her fun for nearly six hours now, without having eaten anything but a few chocolate flowers…as well as some of the decorations and extra popcorn, truth be told. But Henri need not know such things.
“I could eat, yes. I didn’t realize it had grown so late in the afternoon.” He nodded, gestured for her to stay put when she began to rise.
“No, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll bring something up for the both of us. You’re doing a marvelous job.” He smiled at the quick pleasure he saw cross her face, turned to leave before he managed to do something to annoy her. It wasn’t every day she agreed to eat with him so easily.
She watched him as he left, barely noticing when the glue gun dripped hot glue onto the side of her hand. She’d already burned herself countless times, pricked herself many times more when she’d been threading popcorn onto string. When she was sure he had gone back downstairs, she looked over her shoulder, beamed a smile at the tree she’d worked so hard to decorate. How many years had it been, she wondered, since she’d been allowed to take part in such fun?
A dozen, give or take, her mind told her after a bit of mental math. A dozen years since she’d hung an ornament on a tree, since she’d taken part in such decoration. There at the fireplace across from the tree, Henri had helped her hang Christmas stockings. There was one with her name on it. She was entirely unsure on how to feel about that.
Absently ripping drying glue off her hand, Danni finished up the final peppermint ornament, picking up the pile and carrying them over to the tree. The last time she’d hung ornaments, she thought as the CD player in the corner switched over to Jingle Bell Rock, the tree had been about four times as tall as she. And now, just by standing on her toes a little bit, she could easily touch the top of the tree, could brush her fingers over the topmost branches.
It wouldn’t be the first time, though. As she reached up, hung a candy ornament, she recalled the feeling of soft hands gripping her at the waist, lifting her high in the air to reach those top branches, to hang a candy cane on the Christmas tree in the nursery. They hadn’t been the firm, sometimes brisk hands of their nanny, Ms. Foster, or the smooth, impatient hands of her mother. Even without looking, she’d known that only her father had possessed such big, gentle hands.
He would’ve lifted Ambrose first, once the lights had been put on the tree, would have lifted him high to place the praying angel atop the tree, would’ve held him there for a moment so Ambrose could run his finger over the angel’s smiling face. He’d always enjoyed looking at pretty things. Lia would’ve been next, because she was the firstborn daughter. He would have helped her put big ribbons on the branches, would’ve given her a quick tickle until she laughed. And then, because she’d been a good girl, he would’ve plucked a candy cane off the tree and sent her scampering off with it. Then he would have taken her, the youngest, the baby, up in his arms, lifted her high, so high she thought she could touch the mile-high ceiling. He would’ve handed her an ornament, would’ve patiently told her how to hook it on a branch. When she’d done so, he would have tossed her in the air until she screamed with delight.
For a moment in the nursery, with her father tossing her up into the air, she’d always felt like she could fly if he only tossed her high enough. But she would always fall down again, back into his waiting hands. Those hands had always been there to catch her when she fell. He would have held her close then, nuzzling at her hair, his arms wrapped tight around her. She had always felt safe in those arms. It was different from when her mother’s touch, always so impatient, often mean little slaps. It was different from the firm grip of her governess, from the big, floury hands of the cook who sometimes gave her a cookie if she snuck into the kitchen. These arms had held her tight, held her close. After all, she had been his Izzy, and it had been Christmas. Then, keeping her propped up on his hip, he would’ve walked over, shut off the lights in the nursery, and told his children the story of Santa Claus while the lights of the Christmas tree gleamed bright in the dark.
When Henri walked back upstairs carrying a tray, he paused in the doorway once more, sensing a shift in the mood. He saw her standing by the tree now, her hands wringing as she stared up at the top branches of the tree where a freshly made peppermint ornament hung. Rather than joyous, she looked…He would have said she looked sad, if she hadn’t been smiling. Puzzled, he stepped forward, only to have her turning around as well, her eyes clearing, her smile growing as she saw that he carried food with him.
“If that’s a salad, Paris, we’re going to have to have a discussion about what constitutes food again.” There was no sadness in her voice, in her face now as she strode forward, the glitter still sprinkled over her nose. Thinking perhaps he’d imagined it, Henri chuckled, set the tray down on the coffee table. And wondered how Danni would react to the Caesar salads Bertram had made for lunch.
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2012 11:19 pm
"Paint the School Red (and Green)"
[Toshi] It was the best plan ever. Well, Toshi was a bit hopped up on a sugar rush and Fumi was… Fumi, but still. It could not be a better idea. All they had to do was get Light and Cajus in on it as well. As soon as they were informed, the plan would be set into motion. Until then they would buy their time with designs and supply gathering. No one would miss the extra paints and construction paper from the art room, right? As long as Claudette didn’t catch the two trouble making students under Fumi’s illusion spell as they snuck into the storage cabinets, they would be fine.
“Christmas?” Light repeated, staring at Toshi.
“Yes! Christmas! We’ve gotta spread the spirit of the holiday. I mean, Fumi doesn’t even know what Christmas is, so we ought to make her first one awesome, right Caj?” the cat boy insisted, turning to his friend for support. Meanwhile Fumi sat beside him cutting out her ten-thousandth snowflake from Xerox paper they’d swiped from the library. Some people would not be printing their essays that night.
The goat boy had a small smile on his face. “I think we should do it. And if we pull this off it might also piss off some of the teachers. I say we go for it,” he said. Toshi beamed manically at him.
“Operation Santa is a go!” Toshi shouted, leaping from his chair.
“Santa!” Fumi repeated. Light shrugged and agreed. So long as there were things blowing up and mayhem being caused, she didn’t seem to care about the reason. With no time to waste, the nekomata and kappa set off running, leaving the other two to plan. And maybe kiss. Toshi honestly had no idea what those two got up to when he wasn’t around.
In the dead of night, and with the best magic they could muster, the four of them wandered the halls at night setting up small cannons that would all respond to triggers Light had built. The school was going to look good whether it wanted to or not. They were undetectable, too small to take serious notice, and once they exploded they would poof into nonexistence. All they had to do was wait until morning to set them off.
Class begun and there was not a single person who realized what was about to happen. Preparing their triggers in all four corners of the school, the friends set off the cannons. Toshi grinned madly at the thought. In just a few seconds, everyone around the school would see their brilliance. And then they would freak the ******** out. That alone made his trigger finger itch, even after pressing the button down. In just three seconds… two… one…
All across the school cannons fired. Students hid under their desks in fear. Shrieking could be heard all around. Cajus had plugged his ears tight for the noise, but Light and the others reveled in it all. Toshi was already hurrying to discard the trigger in the madness. The walls were covered in green and red polka dots and streamers hung all around the ceiling, with a snowflake cut by Fumi on each curve. Better yet, it was entirely covered in red and green glitter and star-shaped confetti fell like snow.
The school was in a panic, until some of the students started to calm down and look around them. Slowly they all took notice. Faces were lighting up as music started to blast throughout the school.
Rockin around, the Christmas tree at the Christmas party hop~
Fumi had snuck into the halls, meeting Toshi who had done the same. As cat and kappa, they popped their faces up into windows and watched as the kids and teachers took a break from work and danced to the music instead. They shared a look before making their way back to Toshi’s room. Fumi ran around with glee once they got there, squealing as she hopped around. Toshi transformed back and giggled, grabbing his tiny friend and pulling her into a hug.
“I take it you like Christmas?” he said.
“I LOVE CHRISTMAS!” she shouted. Transforming back into her girl form, she pecked Toshi quickly on the lips. “TOSHI IS THE BEST! ALL HAIL KING TOSHI!” The cat boy blushed.
“Who taught you to do that?” he asked, slightly worried that some pervert had gotten to her. Innocent little Fumi was too ignorant about that sort of thing yet.
“It was in a few of those Christmas movies you showed me. The girl and boy kiss when something good happens!” Fumi said, twirling. Toshi sighed dramatically.
“You’ve still got a lot to learn, kiddo.” Still, he was grinning. She was happy because of what they’d done. It was like playing Santa, seeing this kid’s stupid look of pure joy. Toshi thought, if he had to go for a career, being Santa wouldn’t be so awful. Which reminded him… “Alright Fumi, next in your Christmas education, we’re going to watch The Santa Clause. I promise you, you’re gonna love this one.”
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 12:49 am
"Formal Attire Required"
[Petra] There was no music, no splendor to the occasion. It was the first year Petra’s father was hosting the Christmas party for the other local members of the vampire aristocracy. Everything had to be perfect. That year Petra was only seven years old, her hair cut into a tiny red bob and her small body dressed up in the most ridiculous red and white frilly gown. And she couldn’t have loved it more. It was usually the time of year when her dad was a bit calmer than usual. He loved the Christmas party more than anything, because it was a great opportunity for him to show off to his friends. Even Petra’s mother was able to relax, seeing him so pleased.
This year was a bit of a downer, however. Hosting a party was a rather different affair from attending one. Even with the servants running full shifts around the large house, things were still not getting ready quickly enough. Her father was tense, shouting instructions all around the room. The small girl, clutching the present she’d opened just a little while ago to her chest – a tiny doll with hair as red as hers – walked carefully up to her father. She gave two gentle tugs on his pant leg, peering up from beneath fresh trimmed bangs.
“Daddy, am I singing again this year?” she asked, her voice small. He groaned and leaned over.
“Not right now, Petra. We’re still getting things ready,” he said, trying to keep his voice sounding as kind as possible. The stress of the evening was making that difficult.
“But I need to pick the right song. What if they laugh?” Petra insisted.
“Baby Bat no one is going to laugh at you.”
“The other kids do!” Her father sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Listen, it’s just not that important right now. Why don’t you make yourself useful as long as you’re here? Help decorate or something.” He waved her off quickly, sending her over to one of the servants. “Take her to the kitchen to decorate cookies. She’ll like that.”
With the biggest and grumpiest pout on her face, Petra resigned herself to smearing the thickened blood onto cookies. Vampire cuisine could get sort of weird at times, though it was normal for her. Besides, the thick texture gave it a different flavor. Yet, these were for the guests. She couldn’t eat a single one until they were put out and people started arriving. Until then she got tiny slaps on the wrist from the kitchen staff if she tried to lick her fingers or sneak a bite. The best thing for her to do was to quietly sneak away with one of the trays to get out. She ate just one cookie, leaving the tray where she was supposed to. Most people around her were too busy to notice anyway.
She hurried her tiny feet upstairs, in search of her mother. The older vampire woman was quickly discovered in her room, primping herself in the few minutes before guests were meant to be arriving. Her daughter hurried into her arms, shrieking the only name she knew her by.
“Moooooom!” Petra cried, leaping at her mother. Lynn Thornton burst out laughing as she spun her small girl around. Yet, she seemed to grow bigger every day. The vampire girl’s shoes achieved contact with the floor again as her mother crouched to get to her level.
“My darling girl, what are you doing here? You should be playing somewhere. It’s Christmas Eve. Little girls get to play on Christmas Eve. It’s a rule,” Lynn said, poking her daughter’s nose teasingly. Yet, a mother couldn’t miss a frown like that on her child’s face. She paused. “What’s wrong, Baby Bat?” Petra shook her head.
“Daddy’s so busy and nothing seems any fun anymore. I don’t want those kids coming over again. They’ll pick on me. I know it,” Petra said, feeling herself starting to cry. In a hurry she was enveloped into her mother’s arms. She felt gentle hands petting her hair. Softly cooed words whispered into her ear brought her into a calm. The tears slowed, then stopped altogether. Petra rubbed her eyes dry.
“Come with me. I think I know how to make this better,” Lynn said. They took hands and made their way back to the foyer together. Petra sniffled a little as they walked, but tried to look strong as they came to face her father.
“Carter, the star still needs to be put on the tree,” Lynn said, not even bothering with a greeting. He turned with surprise, not having expected his wife at the moment.
“We’re getting to that. There are other things to be done first, Lynn,” her husband said with much impatience.
“I was going to suggest,” Lynn stated sharply, “that you let Petra carry it up there.” Carter stared at the determined woman for a moment.
“That big thing? Petra is still too small for that. Besides, it’s a two man job at least…”
“Three man, and two of those men will be women, thank you very much.” With a huff Petra’s mother carried the star over to them. In this form the golden decoration seemed normal size and only a bit heavy, if at all. Yet, the vampire tradition was to fly it up as bats. Of course this made it a bit troublesome for the families that turned instead into wolves or rats, but nevertheless, the Thornton’s had kept up this tradition for years. Petra was usually told to stay safely on the ground or simply fly up alongside them. This year though, her mother wanted to give her a special treat.
Carter sighed, but couldn’t help the small smirk that crept onto his lips. It was like old times with her again. Whenever it seemed like things couldn’t get worse, Lynn burst into his life again and brought smiles and joy back. The woman was clearly magic. She gave him a wink as Petra transformed, landing her tiny bat feet on the top point of the star. Her mother and father followed suit, grabbing the two ends and beginning their ascent.
Petra flapped her wings as hard as she could. Even if somewhere in her mind she realized her parents were doing most of the work, she still felt like she was strong enough to lift it on her own. Within a few seconds they had made it to the top of the tree, placing it carefully as they could. Together they swooped back to the ground, noticing that the whole room had stopped to see the star as it was positioned. They changed back and gathered into a hug. The servants were cheering. Finally some of the spirit was returning to the precious holiday. Lynn thought it was all thanks to Petra, but Carter knew better. Carter knew it was Lynn’s doing.
“Now, Baby Bat,” he said, “would you mind waiting by the door to greet guests with your mother?” Petra hesitated, her shyness still encumbering her, but she agreed to it nevertheless. It was her father’s prideful smile that gave her reason to do it. Lynn and Petra took hands again and went to answer the doorbell, which now rung with a Christmas themed chime. Petra could only hope that the rest of the night would go just as well.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 1:06 pm
"[Gluttonice Grinch]"
[Beelzebub]  Mortals were creatures whom he found rather amusing and annoying at the same time. So, needless to say, it was the moment where he categorized them as both. Beelzebub, the prince of gluttony, now had a box of stringed lights before him and sighed lightly to himself. Was there a point in actually decorating? To Beelzebub, the whole concept, didn't make sense. Though, if you knew Bee, he wasn't a guy who enjoyed these human holidays, especially if they celebrated an event in Christian history.
Of course, being a servant of the devil, himself, Bee had no interest in praising the man above's son---it was sickening to say the least. But, it was suggested that he decorates his desk and the waiting area, where students got intimidating stares by the said secretary. If anything, as somebody said, at least there'll be more cheer than dread in that waiting room after the decorations are up. Cheer? They were crazy to think this brought cheer and it especially didn't being cheer to the one decorating, it only brought irritation and broken decorations in the mix. Bee grumbled lightly, and mocked everybody's cheer whilst he began to untangle the lights; why did these damn things come like this? Weren't they suppose to be easy to untangle? At one point, the male gave up on untangling them and instead got up from his seat with the lights in his arm, now scanning the room. In the corner, next to a row of chairs, sat an office plant---that'll do.
He shrugged and sloppily dumped the wad of lights on top of the plant and plugged the cord into the outlet. Okay, that was out of the way, now ...window stickers. Well, that shouldn't be too hard to accomplish, right? With that, the male trotted back to his desk and pulled out the sleeved packages, out from under his paper work and examined the little pictures before him; one of them had been of a red nosed, fat man. Bee tilted his head and blinked before he realized whom this guy was---Santa. The demon scrunched up his nose as he peeled the sticker of the jolly man, from the sticker sleeve. This man gave children gifts and candy?
It was said that by putting up a stocking they got whatever they asked for Christmas. Bee stared at the sticker, which had been stuck to his index finger, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to put up that dreadful stocking, in which he kept in his drawer? Well it would be nice to receive something, rather than demanding for it. He then came to the conclusion of putting up the stocking while immersed in his thoughts, and with out a second thought, he stuck the sticker to the wall beside him and spun his chair around, now pulling out the cheaply made stocking; it was plain and simple at best, but not good enough just yet. Biting his lower lip, the demon imagined what he could add to make is scream "This is Beelzebub's stocking!!!". He scanned his disheveled desk in search of something he could use but he wasn't eager to move papers around and actually look for something. However, there was his drawer he had yet to mess up.
Drawing open the drawer beside him, he found a white bottle which looked similar to a nail polish bottle. This would do nicely, it had to be some sort of paint, right? Unscrewing the cap, he began to dab the brush along the red section of the stocking and it didn't take long before the words "PUT STUFF IN HERE FOR BEE, FILTHY VERMIN." Pulling the stocking away to get a good look at his work, the demon smiled and sighed peacefully; his handy work was wonderful, in his eyes. He pinned up the stocking on a wall, which would be in eyesight of whomever was waiting in a plastic chair, waiting to be seen by Asmodeous. Prefect. Last, but not least, had been this thing they called a mistletoe. The rumor behind it had been, whoever shall pass under the mistletoe with another individual had to exchange a kiss.
However, the small detail "pass under" slipped his mind and the object soon became useless in his mind. Twirling in between his bony fingers, Bee tilted his head before sniffing the accessory "And yet, another reason why humans cease to amuse me..". He sat there for a while before remembering the use of the mistletoe and with that got up from his chair to hang the object above the doorway which lead from the waiting room to Asmo's office. Now the decorating was done.. With that he turned to look at his work and admire it all; a wad of lights on top of the office plant, a stocking hung up to remind students to give him stuff, and a mistletoe above him. But there, next to his desk, had been a box which had been marked "tinsel"---like hell he was going to decorate anymore, this was already becoming a pain in the a** for him. Marching his way over to the box he looked inside and frowned again, they were in wads, like the lights.
Walking over to his waste basket, the demon dumped what had been in the box into the waste basket and "gently" kicked the box out of sight before he pulled his feet up on to the desk. Christmas was going to be another pain in the a** holiday, wasn't it?
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 3:56 pm
"Deck the hall with bowels of Holly"
Arik
It was a bleak time, the land had been ravished by decades of turmoil and war. The sky dulled by banks of dark clouds, a biting frost coated ground that was useless for crops, and livestock that was suffering in the winter blizzards. This was the norm for the 'holiday season' now, unforgiving cold that sunk right to your bones and a hunger that twisted your mind to desperate thoughts.
A blackened castle stood high on a lonesome hill, surrounded by the ruins and slums of a once mighty city. It stood as a symbol of repression, power, control and fear. The castle was home to the 'lord', a callous and inhumane ruler who had gripped the lands in his iron fist. And it was times like these when he felt the most powerful.
Light blinked from a single window high on the central tower, a sure sign that the Lord was in, and the marching of torches winding up the hill was a sure sign that tonight would be an entertaining one. Tonight of all nights, Winter Solstice, rebellion was in the air.
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"We demand an audience with the Lord! Matters are getting quite out of hand!" a lone woman dressed in shining armour cried as she banged the hilt of her sword against the heavy iron doors blocking access to the castle. Her long deep-black hair trailed in the strong wind, her fair skin flushed by the cold. An angry crowd shouted and bellowed behind her, waving their torches and pitchforks, the citizens that held on to life in the crumbling buildings below, the farmers that toiled in the desolate fields beyond that. They had taken enough and now they wanted their life back, it would be a hard fight.
The silhouette of a single guard came into view above the parapets, a large crossbow in hand.
"Only one may enter, make your choice!" He declared from his vantage point. There were shouts amongst the peasants, unhappy with the decision. "Let us in, death to the b*****d, to hell with your rule, lower taxes, give back my grandchild." The usual jeers and moans from a rebellious crowd. Watching for a minute as the crowd continued to spew hatred, the guard raised his weapon and let loose a single bolt, catching a young woman in the neck.
"A warning shot! Make your choice or leave!" Twenty nine more figures raised their heads as the first guard barked his demands once more. The roar of the mob all but disappeared leaving only the screams of the wounded girl and the sobbing of her partner to snap through the frozen air.
Daunted looks flicked from face to face as the mob suddenly lost all courage. The synchronised clicks of the loading crossbows only heightening the tension as pitchforks wavered in the air and mumbles.
"Ready weapons!" the first guard called, and in one swift motion all thirty bows were pointing towards the crowd.
"Take aim!"
WAIT!" The armoured cried out as the guards held their aim.
"I shall go. These people have no experience in dealing with tyrants," she added before stepping forwards even more.
"Very well." One of the large doors clunked, and with a loud shuddering creak swung open ever so slightly allowing the knight to enter.
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Handing her sword over as she entered the castle, the knight felt immediate warmth spread over her chilled body. The castle was well heated for its size, a fire in each room kept a comfortable temperature and lavish tapestries hanging from strong walls held the heat well. A guard on each side escorted the woman down long corridors, paintings of battle scenes, beautiful temples and vast green landscapes caught her eye as they marched towards the ever growing tones of music.
"You will speak when spoken to, do not take no for an answer, follow his words, and you will leave here alive" one of the two escorts said sternly as a large wooden door came into view.
"Ha! Your 'Lord' will do well to listen to me, he deserves none of my respect..." the woman scoffed in response. The two guards merely chuckled as the doors swung.
The room was quite large, with a long table stretching from wall to wall set in the middle surrounded by twenty or so chairs. Massive landscapes and portraits hung from the walls, and plush carpets coated the stone floor. At the head of the table, which was covered in platters of food, sat a single shadowed figure, his outline framed by a large roaring fire.
"Sire. Allow me to introduce Miss Holly Silverston of Urdanaught. Representative of the people," the escort said politely with a large bow before allowing the knight, Miss Silverston, to pass in front. The knight marched forward, slamming her gauntleted hands down on the solid oak table.
"I have been hired by the people, hired to lead them out of your tyrannical grasp. They demand that you, Arik Diedrich, lower their crop taxes, and cease your terrorising of the populace at once. What do you say!" Silverston demanded without a second thought.
The two escorts shot each other a look, and a waving hand from the figure ahead signalled that they were to leave...
"Heh... Hahaha! AHAHAHA! Miss Silverston, my dear!" Arik laughed powerfully, clearly amused at the performance unfolding before him. "You take no prisoners I see, straight to the point! Please, please. Take a seat..." he chuckled motioning towards the seat next to her.
A scowl fixed to her face, Holly cautiously slid the high backed chair out and sat down. The mountains of food sitting in front of her were finally becoming more apparent.
"Would you like a drink? I'd hate to be unwelcoming to a guest. Oh and please help yourself to some food, the goose is rather delicious tonight." Without waiting for an answer a single servant made his way to the table and filled up a pewter goblet in front of Silverston. The sharp scents of wine meeting her nose being equalled with a look of confusion. Here was a tyrant, a man that had killed thousands upon thousands of innocent people, yet he was offering her wine, food, hospitality? Was he getting her to lower her guard?
"I have no time for your games Diedrich. What is your answer." Holly said sternly.
"Games. Miss, I do not play games. Games imply there is a winner and a loser." Arik responded with a voice like velvet, standing from his seat with a goblet in hand.
As he wandered past the fire, the shadows blocking Silverston's vision cleared revealing Arik in more detail. Bare from the waist up, his shirtless physique was well toned and sculpted. a number of straight lines laced across his chest forming a pattern of some sort, possibly a scar? She couldn't tell. On his lower half Arik looked to be dressed in laced up pants, the fur lining the waist suggested they were animal skins of some kind, and his feet were clad in simple fabric shoes. It appeared that Lord Diedrich was simply dressed in his lounge wear!
Holly found herself blushing lightly as she averted her eyes from Arik's state of dress, having guests and not dressing for their company? Unthinkable!
Glancing over again she couldn't help but notice something off about the man, chiefly his hair. A very light sandy blond colour stuck out in spiked tufts from his head, and as they got closer to the front, the seemed to turn into what looked like rows of horn, maybe a crown? There was no metal in view though...
"No Miss Silverston, games are not my style," Arik continued as he walked towards the seated knight. "I merely like to live in the moment, take life one decision at a time and stick to it," he continued, pausing to take a sip from his goblet. His piercing yellow eyes fixed on her own. "Live by whims, do what takes my fancy... Do you not think it is a good way to live?" Arik finished, leaning on the back of a chair close to her own.
She scowled once more, her long obsidian hair falling down over one of her eyes. Keeping her eyes on Arik, Holly lifted her goblet and took a sip, the fruity flavours flooded her mouth, tingling across her tongue.
"If this is the life you have built at the expense of others, no. This is a life of greed, gluttony, a life of sin."
"Such strong words!" Arik laughed, "So? I have worked for what was within my power, is that so wrong? I hope you agree that the wine is rather delicious."A smirk formed on Arik's face as he watched Miss Silverston fume at his reasoning.
"You are a monster of a man," she added, trying to keep her eyes from studying the lines marking his chest. Her mind questioned if he was even human, the 'crown' on Arik's head was now obviously horns and the lines marking his chest were too uniform and deliberate to be scars. And that smirk, his teeth were fanged like a wolf.
"I may be a monster yes, but believe me Miss Silverston, Monsters..." Arik began, moving his hand to caress the porcelain like skin of her chin. "... have the most fun." Blushing heavily she slapped his hand away and rose quickly to her feet.
"Keep your hands off me!" Silverston yelped as she took several steps back.
"Hahaha! I am sorry, please. I meant no harm. Just, following a whim..." He laughed casually.
"I have not come here to be a 'whim' Diedrich!" the young knight yelled, clearly troubled by the turn of events.
Lifting Holly's goblet and taking a few steps towards her, Arik continued, his sharp eyes locked on hers.
"Miss Silverston, relax, please. The time will come when we can talk. but why not indulge yourself while you can? This food and wine will merely spoil, the fires will burn out. It would be such a waste." The young knight backed away more, but soon found she was backed against the wall, she had no option but to go with it.
Taking a goblet from his large hands, she sipped at the wine.
"See, enjoy yourself." Arik laughed quietly, taking another step towards Silverston.
There was little room between them, his bare chest was only inches from her person. She could feel the heat rising on her cheeks. Her mind twisted as his words seeped into her thoughts. Live on a whim, indulge when you can, why let things go to waste... She mentally shook herself back to clear thoughts, she was a knight! A woman of honor! But he was right, wasn't he?
"No, no. No! It is not right, these thoughts, you have poisoned my mind! What did you put in my drink!" Holly pushed forwards, sloshing the remainder of her wine down Arik's chest as she put some distance back between them, the pewter goblet clattering to the floor. Her face was stricken with confusion and disgust, there was no way she could have thoughts like these.
"Oh-ho ho... Fiesty." Arik smirked. "As I said before, this is merely good wine, I would never think of poisoning sa guests drink, not tonight anyway... No Miss silverston, I think you will find such thoughts were your own." Arik continued, sliding a finger down his chest before licking the wine from his fingers.
Bringing his hand up to her cheek, Arik brushed Holly's long hair behind her ear, moving his hand down to the point of her chin.
"Now what do you say we act on those thoughts?" Holly gasped, taken aback once more by his actions. She pulled away but again, found her escape blocked by the walls. Turning her eyes back to Arik, she flushed.
"Given in?"
The words failed pass through her lips as Arik smiled with his carnivorous teeth. Raising his hand and ceremoniously clicking his fingers, little spell circles formed around silferstons armour, with a few clinks the plates unbuckled and came loose, falling to the stone floor where the gauntlet still lay.
"There's a good girl...."
--------------------
How many hours had passed? Her mind was blank, nothing but a fuzzy emptiness remained. She found herself lying naked on a fur rug in front of the fire, her skin was raw and beaded with sweat, her hair was knotted and disheveled, and her strength was spent. Slowly coming to her senses, Holly raised her head as a sound caught her ears. It was faint, but distinct, the sound of bloodshed.
Shouts and screams carried through the window on the wind, the farmers, her task, the tyrant!
Her mind cleared in seconds as she sprung to her feet, she had lost. Arik had played her perfectly. Walking silently towards the table, the food from which was scattered to the floor in their lust, Silverston grabbed a knife from one of the platters. She couldn't let things go like this, to lose in such an undignified way, it was unthinkable!
Padding softly across the woven rug covering the floor under the table, Holly moved towards a small doorway at the rear of the hall. Half conscious scenes flicked into view of Arik making his way through here, and from what she could tell it seemed to be private chambers of some sort.
Stopping by the doorway she listened intently for any activity before cautiously rounding the corner, to find herself face to face with Arik once more. A grin spread across his face as the silver knife caught his eye.
"AHH!" She screamed in surprise, taking a step back. But this time things would go differently, regaining her composure in an instant, Holly thrust the blade in her hand forwards.
"You b*****d!!"
Without a single sound, Arik had disappeared...
"Ohh aren't you the fun one... Your complaints were well hidden earlier, what changed your mind?" Arik whispered into Holly's ear after materialising directly behind her. She gasped sharply as he quickly restrained her. With one hand squeezing her wrist to drop the knife, and his other with a firm grip on her soft neck, Arik laughed once more.
"You really should have been more honest with yourself dearest... It's a shame really, you were so much fun." he added with what could only be described as sorrow in his voice.
Squeezing down on her wind pipe with his grip, Arik kissed Holly's delicate shoulder, taking in the view of her bust as she struggled for breath.
"Truly a shame." he whispered pressing his body against her own as her back arched and twisted.
Her grip on the knife loosened as all her concentration went on her neck, and with her fingers finally giving in, in one swift movement Arik snatched the falling knife from the air and drive it straight through the pale skin of the young woman's gut.
Silently Holly tensed up, unable to scream. her already streaming eyes shot open in shock as every muscle in her body tightened at the pain.
"Living on whims, sometimes I miss out. you see I actually enjoyed your company, but I had a whim, how fun would it be to watch you truly struggle?" Arik spoke softly, loosening his grip on her neck to let her breathe.
"Now, I think I may regret this action. But, I do stick by my decisions," he added, sliding the blade across her stomach as blood gushed from the now gaping wound. Sharp whimpers escaped from Holly's mouth as her legs gave in, but they were quickly stifled as she found herself supported solely by Ariks grasp.
Straightening out his arm, Arik held Holly's twitching body high, tracing the curves of her form with his fingers and leaving crimson trails over her flesh.
"Who knows... Maybe I shall have a whim later to save your life..." Her limbs jerked and flailed as Arik's fingers reached inside her abdomen. Drips and spurts of blood splattered to the stone floor as 'ribbons' were pulled from Holly's body.
Her night had only just begun...
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 5:48 pm
"And to All a Good Night."
Melpomene All throughout the house, several creatures were stirring -- one of which was, arguably, a mouse.
"Listen, homes, why don't we call it a night, huh?" A tired voice panted. If one were to strain their eyes enough, they just might be able to make out the silhouette of a teenage girl with horns protruding from her head. If one looked a bit closer, they would notice she was dressed in a red coat with a faux white fur lining, a pair of red pants, black boots, and a fuzzy red hat not unlike the one the character Santa Claus was often depicted wearing. "It's Christmas Eve, for Christ's sake -- I know your people," she continued, motioning toward the figure she was speaking to. ". . . probably don't celebrate Christmas, but . . . come on, bro."
For a long time, the creature just stood there and looked at the teenager as though she were insane. And, in truth, for attempting to reason with a yokai, she probably was. It said nothing, however, but instead bore its ratty teeth at her and charged. Its silhouette had, up until that point, appeared relatively human -- sure, the edges were a bit fuzzy from all of their hair, but that wasn't so out of place, was it? As it charged her, however, it changed . . . became more beastly: it went from running on two legs to bounding on all fours, it went from humanoid to rat-like as whiskers sprouted from its cheeks and its eyes became more beady and its mouth became a snout and a tail uncoiled behind it.
"Well, fine," the teenager huffed, flipping her blonde hair out of her face as she poised herself, as though ready to catch a football. The yokai barreled into her full-force and took her straight back and pinned her to the staircase. With its face (well, technically, the edge of its snout) only inches from hers, it opened its mouth and a loud, high-pitched screech began to tear through its throat. Apparently more alarmed than afraid, the teenager wrestled an arm free and grabbed the yokai by its throat, her fingers digging deep into its skin. "If you woke them up," she growled in a low whisper. "I'm going to make you wish I'd killed you already."
And then, things were quiet as the two stood there, frozen in time . . . listening. The teenager closed her one remaining eye and tilted her head toward the top of the stairs, tightening her grip on the yokai as she strained to hear any sound -- any sound at all. Any indication that one of the children had been woken up and she would unleash the fury of the hell of all cultures unto the creature. Fortunately for it, there came none. With a contended crack of her neck, the teenager opened her eye once again and smiled at the yokai. "Now, this is the last--" Before she could finish, the creature managed to wrestle itself out of her grasp and grabbed her by the horns and hurled her across the room, sent flying right into the Christmas tree. As she and the tree landed, there was a loud thud accompanied by an even louder, higher-pitched clatter of ornaments breaking -- fortunately for the floor, the better part of the shards seemed to dig into her back. "Alright," she hissed, trying to ignore the pain as she struggled to stand. "Now I'm angry."
Before anyone seemed to know what had happened, the crystal star that had served as the tree-topper had been shoved (tip-down) through the skull of the yokai -- at just the right angle, as a matter of fact, to poke back out through its lower jaw. As the sound of hurried footsteps came down the steps, the teenager panicked. Just as the footsteps landed at the bottom of the stairs, she had scrambled up the chimney with the dead yokai in tow -- which was a difficult task in of itself, even if she didn't get all the way up.
"Huh," she heard a voice mutter, not too far from the fireplace.
"What was it, Dad?" Another voice, a younger voice, asked, sounding rather excited.
"Nothing -- just get back to bed, otherwise Santa won't bring your presents," he chuckled. "The tree just fell over, that's all."
"It was Santa!" Another voice exclaimed, not sounding too different from the second. "I'm telling you, it was Santa!"
The father, apparently accepting of his conclusion (that the tree had simply fallen over, probably because it wasn't leveled or some such nonsense), just laughed. "Better get back to bed quick, then! I hear he won't leave presents if you're still awake!"
No sooner had he spoken than the sound of retreating footsteps (hurried retreating footsteps) rang throughout the house as they scrambled up the stairs -- all three of them. The teenager just stayed inside the chimney for a few minutes, the deceased yokai deadweight in her arms as she tried to support herself. When she was confident that there would be no further interruptions, she eased her way down the chimney and set the yokai's body down on the ground before it. Stretching, she surveyed the room, taking in the damage they had done -- all in all, not too bad . . . except for the tree, of course. Guilt setting in, she did her best to stand the tree back up and cleaned up the ornament shards (couldn't have the kids stepping on them). She was about to heave the body back up and head on out when she spotted the milk and cookies sitting on a table not too far from the tree. Unable to ignore the heartache that sprang from it, she turned to the table and ate a couple of the cookies and drank some of the milk. Then, she rummaged around as quietly as possible until she found a pen and paper and left a note:
Sorry about the tree -- I accidentally tripped over one of your presents as I was setting them down when I knocked it over. I tried to fix the tree for you, as best as I could, when I noticed I'd broken your poor present. I can't explain to you how embarrassed and truly sorry I am. I'm taking your present directly back to my shop where it shall be repaired and, when it's done, I'll bring it back to you.
With love,xxxxxxx
S. Claus.
Content with her apology and the concocted excuse for the noise, the teenager smiled at the letter as she tucked it under the nearly-empty glass of milk. Walking lightly, she picked up the body of the yokai and tip-toed back out of the house the way she had gotten in -- through the unlocked back door. As she walked out, she locked the door behind her and trotted out of the house through the snow. All in a night's work, Melpomene, she thought to herself, adjusting the body over her shoulders. All in a night's work.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 6:30 pm
"Decorator Extraordinaire"
Penelope Delilah Jackson The meek teenage minotaur wandered around the forest she had been brought to by the headmaster. She didn't know how far away from the school he had brought her, but she knew from what she recognized around Mystic Fountain that they were quite a ways away. Penelope had heard mentions of her being brought here to help cut down and carry a tree large enough to be used in the main foyer of the building. She wasn't certain why she was being brought to cut down a tree, but she had learned from her months here serving the headmaster that it was best not to question things and just accept them.
Headmaster took his sweet time in parading through the forest of firs, making their way to the very deep part of the forest. Penelope followed a short ways behind him pulling a large two wheeled wagon. Inside the wagon were several tools for cutting, tying, and covering. She pulled without complaint or noise, though she huffed from time to time when she almost lost her footing and fell on her face.
"This one should work well enough for this year. Minotaur, cut down that tree," he barked at her roughly with a pudgy finger indicating the exact tree he wanted her to cut down. Taking ax in hand, Penelope made her way over to the tree and thoughtlessly cut it down from its home. She was much quicker than a normal human could be at knocking down such a large tree. Within mere minutes the tree was on the ground, and she was given no moment to apologize to the tree and thank it for it's contribution to their lives.
Headmaster was very impatient, already walking back to the cart she had pulled to their current location. "Well what are you standing around waiting for? Hurry and tie it up to get it on the cart!" She wasted no time in doing as he instructed, covering the large tree up with a tarp and tying it up in heavy duty rope. Carefully she dragged the tree over to the cart, the ramp to get it on there having been lowered already. Headmaster watched her carefully as she pulled it onto the cart, making sure to catch any and all mistakes she made.
"Be more careful you idiot! All the needles will be broken by the time you get done loading it. Stop being so slow and get to pulling, I have paperwork to be filling out." With each order he yelled at her, his voice became more shrill and spiteful, and her ears tucked down in sadness at his berating tone. Why couldn't Headmaster be nice to her? She was just doing the best she could.
Several hours later, one exhausted minotaur and impatient headmaster finally arrived at the large truck they had used to travel to the fir tree forest. Loading up the cart into the back trailer, Penelope hopped into the back as well where she sat in darkness alone with the tree. At least the trip wasn't as lonely as it was the first time.
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Back at Mystic Fountain, she was set to work on making the fir tree into a real Christmas tree. Once it had been set up and made secure, the headmaster left her to her own devices in setting the tree up. With use of a ladder, she got the hard part of wrapping the tree in lights. Of course she spent a good half an hour just getting the darned things untangled. Next she threaded a string through popcorn to wrap around the tree along with the lights, nicking herself multiple times with the sharp needle. Penelope was quite proud of her handiwork once it got put up on the tree, and she only cried for a minute or two!
While busying herself hanging up ornaments and candy canes, Penelope had left herself vulnerable to being sneaked up on. It was unusual for her to let her guard down so much.
"The Christmas tree is definitely coming along nicely this year." Penelope jumped at the voice behind her, causing the man who spoke to be startled as well. Turning behind her she saw it was a familiar and much more friendly face than the headmaster's. Nigel was one of the few people who took the time out of their day to say hello to her and ask her how her day was. She didn't know how to do much more than say hello back or nod her head, but that didn't stop him from being considerate nonetheless.
"Have you been decorating the tree all by yourselves young lady?" Her heart fluttered when he called her a young lady, and she nodded bit more exuberantly than usual. She still continued to work as he spoke to her. "This is an awfully big job for one little girl to do. Did the headmaster leave this job to you?" She nodded once more as put the final ornament up near the top of the tree.
"What a rude man, that's what the decoration committee is for. Usually this is a five person job ever year," he spoke in a displeased tone, obviously not agreeing with the decisions of the headmaster.
Penelope though was too busy admiring the tree, trying to figure out just what was missing from it. She had never put together a Christmas tree before, only going by the picture in a book with the decorations to know how to properly adorn it. Nigel knew just what it needed anyway.
Leaning into the box, Nigel pulled out a large golden star decoration. Of course, that's what she was forgetting! The star at the top of the tree!.
"Here you are Miss, one star to top the tree." Nigel handed over to her the star and she placed it at the top of the tree. Clamoring down the ladder she hastened to the outlet and plugged in the lights to see her masterpiece in its full vibrant form. The entire room was coated with multicolored lights that faded in and out of visibility, setting a calm mood over the atmosphere of the school. She smiled, pleased with herself.
"You've really done a marvelous job Miss, you should feel very proud of your hard work." There that stupid heart of hers went fluttering again! "I think a job like this deserves a warm drink as a reward. Would you like to accompany me to the cafeteria for a bit?" Her tail flicked a bit in excitement as she moved over to stand next to him, looking down at him from her tall height. She was only capable of nodding her head with a smile on her face.
Like a gentleman, Nigel extended the crook of his arm to her and allowed her to nervously loop her arm through his. At this very moment, she felt like a true lady.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2012 7:27 pm
"The Girl with Golden Eyes"
Asmodeous Luxuria Today of all days was no more significant to Prince Asmodeous Luxuria than any other day of the week. It was a day, he lived, he did his demonic duties for the day, and turned in for the night. Not much else happened besides that, though his demonic duties were varied, some more fun than others. All in all, what day it was played no significance to the way his day panned out, unless it was his Creation Day, then he was permitted to do even more things that he pleased. That was the only real holiday in his eyes.
His Creation Day was not today, so nothing was at all significant in his eyes. Of course, just because he doesn't see it doesn't mean there aren't others of House Luxuria that wish to enjoy special Earthly holidays. In fact, one such person was bumbling about his room now while he slept, putting out holiday fragrance candles and faux holly leaves to begin her decorating session.
Groaning as the prince move to sit up in his bed, he eyed the young raven haired woman as she pranced about his room, humming songs about Christmas under her breath. It caused him to gently shake his head with a sigh.
"Just what do you think you're doing now?" The woman turned to him in mild surprise, but went right back to smiling and decorating once she noticed he was awake.
"I am merely sprucing up the master's bedroom, Prince Asmodeous. Every year I sit here through the holidays and this place is as dreary and morbid as usual. So, I took the initiative to have someone go up to Earth for me and fetch some decorations for me. I would do it myself, but with all things considered..." It was a touchy subject, and neither of them liked to bring it up. Instead, Asmodeous went for the opportunity to change the subject.
"Since when did I give you permission to parade around my manor covering it in stockings and candles? Especially in my room of all places." His tone was not harsh like he would have used with any other of his servants, but with his head maid he used a softer tone. Like a father would use when speaking with their child.
"Oh, you didn't give me permission. I figure it's going to look so immaculate that you'll love it regardless and not have me take it down." She flashed him a glimmering smile and her hazel eyes glimmered in the firelight that illuminated his room. Looking at her while she was so happy never failed to put a smile on his face, and from time to time she liked to use that to her advantage.
"Sarah, now you know how I feel about this holiday." He crossed his arms over his chest now as he spoke with an expectant tone. Her eyes turned pleading, and she crossed the short distance over to the edge of his bed, leaning her body onto it to get closer to him. A chill went up his spine to have her so near to him, and his hand twitched in a desire to move closer to her.
"Oh please your Highness! I just want this one little thing, and you don't have to do any work at all!" Her lip puckered outward, quivering as he gazed at her. How quick would it be to kiss her? Embrace her? Make her his? Alas, he shall not and never will.
"Why is it such an important thing to you anyway? You weren't even alive when Christmas started being a thing," He stated matter-of-factly. Her eyes dropped downwards, and he almost regretted bringing up her death. Almost, that is.
Idly, she twisted her fingers around the edges of his bed sheets, more than likely trying to think of the right words to explain herself in this situation. Just what sort of reason could she have?
"I just want to feel alive again, that's all. There aren't many kind things left about the world, but Christmas is most definitely one of the few benevolent occurrences up there. I just want to be a part of it, and I want to experience it with my sweet Prince." She looked up at him now with puppy dog eyes, and at that point he finally broke.
"...fine, have your stupid holiday. But you better not make this place look tacky, or it won't ever happen again," he said as he turned his head away from her and looked the other way. Sarah, on the other hand was beside herself and bouncing with delight.
Jumping towards him, she wrapped Asmodeous in a tight squeeze and a sweet peck on the cheek. "Thank you so much my lord! You don't know how much this means to me. I'll get started right away!" Without anymore words between them Sarah was up and away out of the room and down the hall to finish decorating the rest of his large manor. Knowing her she'd probably use her amazing skill of guilt tripping and bubbly energy to persuade even the surlier demons to help her in decorating. However, the head of Luxuria House was having none of it, and merely laid his head back down on the pillow to finish his beauty rest.
Unfortunately, much of his time spent trying to sleep was overtaken by his overactive mind. Just why did she have such a powerful effect on him after all these years? To think, of everyone in this entire world, a mere human has him wrapped around her little finger.
Rolling over onto his side, he let out a long exasperated sigh. Hopefully word wouldn't get out that the Lord of Lust was growing soft.
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