|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 2:21 am
Tristan and Namia's house is situated on the outskirts of New Orleans, and to human eyes; it seems to be a normal, modern looking villa. However, in reality that is only an illusory facade by Tristan made to mask a gothic castle. The castle is spacious, although still modest when compared to other residential castles of Transylvania. Most of the rooms are empty or have spare bedrooms intended to host any guests of the couple.
The castle is decorated with dark oak interiors, and some walls are covered with a deep red wall paper. The drapes that adorn the high stained glass windows are dark red, olive green, navy blue or black; they depend on the style of the room.
On the first floor, there is a kitchen and a large dining room. The household is cared for by low-levelled demons that work for the couple in order to learn new things and meet high-ranking demons. In the absence of Tristan and Namia, the housekeeper takes over; this is a Poltergeist from the 15th century and of French origins.
On the second floor, we find the Library and a study room, which are filled with old documents regarding the practice of different Wicca sects and rituals.
On the third floor we have the main bedroom with a bathroom ensuite. The furnishings are all dark oak, with a four poster bed in the middle, dressing table, desk and a wardrobe amongst side tables and a chest of drawers. The covers in this room are made out of black silk. Mainly the third floor is bedrooms for the guests, including single beds and other double beds.
Even though the castle is based on gothic style, with black candles illuminating the passages, chandeliers hanging in the halls etc? it still offers the highest of technology. They have a sitting room on the first floor with a cabinet which holds a plasma TV, DVD and Video. The bathroom is equipped with a Jacuzzi too. The fourth and fifth floor rooms are empty.
One finds a two level basement. The first floor is that used by the servants, with bunk beds, and a storage room with freezers. The second floor underground is the one that hides the demonic properties of Namia and Tristan. There is a room used for training. It holds different swords, sais, chains etc. There is another room that holds potions, herbs and also crystals for scrying. (Tristan being a witch king, practices potion making.) Namia also has a room that she uses to torture humans and any demons in her home that she feels are being "naughty."
In addition, a secret door found behind a bookcase in the "potion-making" room leads to a passage connecting the house of Tristan and Namia to Hell. It is used to receive guests directly from the underworld but also to confer with Lucifer himself.
Outside Namia keeps a fairly midsized looking shed, which in reality is very spacious inside, and is the place where she keeps her "pets."
The castle in itself holds many other secrets of which only the couple know about. All floors are connected through a main spiral staircase which looms at the centre of the house and attracts every visitor's eyes. Humans may enter the grounds if invited by Tristan or Namia but the guarantee of leaving it alive is remote?
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 2:30 am
Namia came home with her usual posse of vampires and humans. She entertained them in her great dinning hall with much food and blood to go around.
The sky was pitch black as clouds hid the stars. It was nearly mid-night when Tristan decided to go home. He had spent the rest of the day patrolling the streets, help some criminals in their crimes or if they were small fishes, he'd just bring them to their downfall in the hands of the police.
Tristan entered the Villa only to hear some loud laughs coming from the dining room. He slammed the door, as Francois came to take his coat.
"What's going on here?" He asked him as his hand went to his trousers pocket were he had his dices and started playing with them.
"Mistress Namia is having a party with some of her friends" Francois replied casting his eyes to the ground. Tristan clutched the dices harder in his palm.
"Another party!? She is always partying these days while we are on the verge of war and should find new followers for our lord." Tristan said in a fit of anger.
"Sir, should I let her know that you have arrived?" Francois muttered.
"No, not need to. She already knows but she just doesn't want to absent herself for a few seconds from the orgy of hers." Tristan walked away and took the stairs which led to his potions room. As soon as the big oak door closed, all the sounds from upstairs died and he was in peace with only his infuriated part to make him company.
"I don't understand why you are so mad. It's not like you spent the day recruiting anyone, so why are you mad because I want to have a little fun, or do you not call what you did all day 'fun'?" she thought, sending her words into Tristan's mind.
Tristan ignored Namia's question and focused on the map of New Orleans he had spread on the large table in the room. He held in his left hand the black string with the amethyst crystal moving in circle above the map as he concentrated to try and find any demons in town. He needed to get some more demons to fight at Lucifer's side before the Underworld lord will punish him.
The Crystal moved in wide circles, sometimes slowing down only to continue to move some more. Tristan took the crystal in his hand and sat in one of the armchairs at the side of the door. "I can not concentrate, damn it." he said as his fist made contact with the chair's solid oak arm making a cracking sound. He closed his eyes and decided to respond to Namia. "Even though I might have had some 'Fun' as you say, I also did my work during the Patrolling. I've been investigating some recent non-natural energy surges in town but they only were mere humans trying to conjure some spirits. I've been corrupting people to join their energies to our dark side. In the final battle we'll need all the energy possible to summon up beasts and to give to Lucifer for his attacks, and Humans are our sacrificial lambs." Tristan stopped abruptly as he noticed he was justifying his deeds to Namia.
"Now finish off this party of yours soon as I want to go to sleep and until these outsiders leave I won't be able to take me rest." He told her with no emotion in his deep voice.
Namia whispered "Sacrificial Lamb" into the ear of a particularly succulent human, thus repeating Tristan's words in her mind. As she drained the life energy of her last victim she thought,
"Yes we must continue to lead the humans astray... but what about the exiles? If we can convince them to join us, that would increase our number and power greatly... Still how do you propose to convince other demons to join us? They won't join unless their is something to gain..."
At that she laid her human down in a chair and wiped her mouth with a napkin.
Namia tried her best to smile for her guests as she felt Tristan's rage kneading in her mind.
"Diamond please take out the garbage," she said to a servant who was standing by the door waiting to do just that.
Tristan let his mind free of thoughts for some time. Everything seemed to be falling apart around him. The road to war was more difficult then he had expected especially since Demons have scattered around the world and some are also in hiding. He'll have to leave his town and go on journeys to seek their alliances. After a day out he would usually be glad to return home to find the woman of his life waiting for him. However, it seemed that centuries of peace have parted them. He has spent more time here amongst his books, while Namia would be partying with other men.
He took a deep breath and waited for the right moment to go upstairs again. Should I wait for her to call or let her go to sleep? I doubt she'll even come down here herself...
Namia waved goodbye to the last of her guests as Diamond, her favourite manservant led them out the door.
As she watched them go, she waited for an answer from Tristan but he had blocked off his mind to her.
"Bah I hate it when he does that. I can just see him sitting there with his books piled up on top of his desk like a fortress. Really, does he think that all the answers can come from books?" she asked herself as she walked to the drawing room.
The drawing room was handsomely furnished with heavy draperies and oversized chairs covered in a blood red fabric, but Namia hardly noticed these as she walked into the armoire at the end of the room.
This was a short cut only known to Tristan and she, which led to the basements below.
"I better fetch him or else he's going to end up falling asleep in there" She thought.
Tristan got up from the chair "I was getting too comfortable.." he whispered under his breath to break the silence in the candle lit room. He took his amethyst crystal again in his hand and tried to trace any demon presence in New Orleans but it didn't work. It circled above the map in void. "I know there are others over here. I sense their energies but I can not find them. What is up with demons fleeing from confrontation!" He threw the crystal at the wall beside the door which after a few seconds started to open...
Namia stopped at the door when she heard a crash. She cautiously opened the door and peered inside.
Upon entering she noticed the amethyst lying by the door and picked it up. She looked it over to see if it had any fractures, but it looked unaffected.
She quietly looked into Tristan's eyes not uttering a word... for words would only make things worse and instead walked up to him and held his face with her right hand and his head in her left hand. She caressed his forehead with her thumb smoothing out the little wrinkles on his forehead.
Tristan relaxed at Namia's touch as he closed his eyes. "Why are you doing this?" He asked her. He took her left hand in his and held her wrist tightly for a second before releasing it again. "It seems as lately you only want me to get in a bad mood. You' re doing nothing to help and I'm fed up with strangers in our house." He said.
Namia sighed and pouted her full lips at him.
"I only wanted to have a little fun. You take everything so seriously... You never used to be this way..."
She thought about all the good times they had when they were in heaven, and how much he had helped her when they first got thrown out.
How close they use to be, how much they enjoyed each other's company. They had grown cold over the centuries.
"We can't continue like this forever... when the war comes... we have to be on the same side... not fighting each other...."
Tristan walked off from Namia, his hands in his pockets, "You are putting all the blame on me. As if you are the only one that wishes us to be together as usual! You, my dear, have a great list of faults to endure too. It is your continuous flirting in parties with other men that drives me mad. I hate seeing you laughing at their jokes and enjoying yourself while in their company. I've given up impressing you. I'm bored with this life! " He told her. He got out of the room and slammed the door.
As he got up the spiral stair case, "I won't be sleeping in the main bedroom. I need to clear off my mind.".
Francois looked above at his master who was muttering things to himself. It seems as if the mistress had pissed him off again, he thought.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 07, 2006 2:39 am
Namia stared at the room in front of her. Quietly she walked around the room dragging her fingers over different objects in the room.
She stopped in front of a large shelf that covered the whole wall, which was filled with many vials and glasses full of colour liquids. A smile passed her face as she toyed with the idea of smashing every single one of those potions. The floor would be covered in bright swirling colours and the stench of them would fill her with nausea. She almost laughed at these thoughts, and half giggled in delight as all of his hard work could be washed into the gutter.
All the time he had dedicated to his stupid potions, and his stupid books, all gone! All the time he could have spent with her, revenged.
With out realizing it, Namia had been spinning and spinning around the room delighting in her thoughts and she fell to the ground dizzy with the ideas still swirling in her mind.
"No" she thought "as fun as that would be.... it would only make things worse. I just know..... I know he would leave me..... He'll,.. he might leave me now...."
She buried her face in her hands and wept on the floor like a child threatened to be parted with her favourite blanket.
Namia looked down at her palms which were stained red. She got up off the floor out of the puddle she had created out of blood.
"I must look like a devil with stigmata," she thought to herself.
She then grabbed a mirror that was used for divination and looked at herself in it. She watched as a single red tear fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheek, tracing a crimson path on her face. It had been a long time since she had cried and now she remembered why, because she always cried puddles of blood instead of tears.
Tristan set on the single bed. He hadn't bother to undress, he just kicked his shoes off and plopped on the soft mattress. It had been a long day. He mused at the blood red drapes of the canopy above when his gaze turned to an oil painting in front of him. It depicted a naked woman with three dressed men around her, one pouring wine in her glass which she held up for him in her right arm, one had a plum fan and the other was giving her grapes to eat. Juice run down form her slightly open mouth. Her eyes were crimson, her flesh transparent like.
She was a vampire. The men flocked around her but it was clear in her eyes that for her they meant nothing more then the juicy grapes she was eating.
A vampire. Namia had become so similar to them. Her wish for blood, her crimson tears, yet she wasn't one. He hadn't stopped her because he couldn't resist her smile, her joyful eyes. He'd have done anything to please her. She had her special needs now as a demon. Fresh blood parties and pleasures. All these, he had extricated himself from. He wanted to form part of her world but as spectator.
Tristan couldn't sleep. His mind was full of past memories. Of times of happiness in Heaven, of times of joy in planned cruelty, of times of pain and loneliness when she was away.
"I can not live like this anymore. I need to leave and go away. Leave her to enjoy the life she has chosen to the outmost and not constrain her to me. We are different now and there's no worth in hiding it..." Tristan closed his eyes and for an hour he was engulfed in peaceful darkness.
Jerome walked slowly to the door of the Villa. He trembled slightly being only a lowly servant of the devil, a condemned soul out on an errand, not even a demon he felt a bit scared at the prospects of dealing with those in the house. Yet, he knew if he failed to deliver he would be in even worse torment then he had already endured. He knocked upon the door.
Francois moved to the door. His transparent body seemed to hover in air rather then walk. He opened the door. It was early morning for his master and mistress to receive humans so it must mean its a demon of the Underworld.
The door creaked on its hinges. He was met with a low demon, a messenger most probably. "Yes. What's the matter to come and disturb my master and mistress at this hour?"
"I have a letter from our Lord Lucifer himself for Master Tristan. I am to deliver it personally." Jerome answered still trembling slightly.
Francois smirked as he closed the door behind the demon. The poltergeist was used to these type of demons. They would always be fearful but their panic usually escalates when the door would close. "I'll fetch my Master. He'll be with you in a few seconds." And he left to go up the spiral stair case up to the guest room where his master had decided to reside for the night.
Jerome let out a soft sigh of relief when the poltergeist had left. He looked casually about the room as he tried to gather his wits, but so many things about it seemed to catch him off guard. He longed for a moment of peace. A moment to feel as he had before he had died. Even the streets he had been forced to live on was better then what he was enduring now. He took in a deep breath, and pushed the thoughts of his bagger life aside, and the one incident that had gotten him thrown into the tortures he was in. That one horrible shot... He heard a noise, and his paranoid senses shot in that direction as he waited to see what would come from down the hall.
Francois arrived in front of the oak door. He knocked twice and waited obediently for his master's reply.
"Come in Francois" Tristan said as he got up and set on the bed. He hadn't sensed any energy from outside so it could have been only Francois his man servant. "What's the matter Francois? It's only 5 in the morning." Tristan said annoyed to be woken up from his sleep even though it was light and plain.
"Sorry Master to disturb you but there is a low class demon downstairs waiting for you to deliver a letter. He said it must be done personally." Francois bowed at his master and waited for his reply.
"I'll be there shortly" Tristan rose from his bed and went to the dressing closet. "You may go Francois." and the Poltergeist went back downstairs.
Pain seared through Jerome as he had jerked when he heard a noise, but he resisted the urge to smooth his hand over what flesh of his back he could feel. He knew if anyone saw his back he would burst into flames.
Tristan removed the creased robes and let them fall in a heap on the floor. He took a silk deep red shirt and a pair of black trousers. He also got his black long coat with the belts on the arms and threw it on an armchair nearby. He then crouched the put on his shoes which shown as they caught the flicker of a black frame by the mirror.
When he was ready he smoothened his black short hair with his hand, took the coat and descended to the Hall where the demon was waiting for him.
Jerome shook more as Tristan descended the stairs. He waited patiently for him, and tried to get himself to stop shaking as he made the little bow.
Tristan looked the frail demon up and down. His shaking made him smile. He was always told his figure was imposing and gave off power but it was the first time he actually got the proof. This demon was providing an entertainment to him and was drifting his other thoughts to the back of his mind.
"What is that you want from me, lowly demon?" Tristan inched forward, straight and serious once more. His voice was deep and boomed slightly in the vastness of the Hall .
"The Lord, and Master Lucifer has sent me to deliver a letter." he said still in bow. Then as he raised his gaze careful not to meet the man's in front of him he scanned the room to make sure there was no one around.
Upon realizing they were completely alone he began to fumble with the tatter of a shirt he wore. Realizing that the man was most likely growing impatient with him he fumbled all the more before turning, and raising the shirt to display his back. Upon it marred into the decaying skin was the message.
Come to my alter. I have things we need to discuss.
Tristan broke in a fit of laughter as the blood dripped from the demon's back as his shirt wasn't on him any more. "Our Lord is getting more inventive with the passing of years!" He said as he clapped his hands in amusing.
"You can return to your place." He told the demon dismissing him from his presence.
"Francois come here!" He called for the Poltergeist that in 2 seconds was by his side.
"Yes master, at your orders." Francois said as he bowed his head and saw the blood on the marble flooring.
"Clean this stuff and do not tell a word of this visit to Ms.Namia or anybody of this household. I'll be leaving this place for a few days and if I need anything I'll contact you. As I said, make word to no one about my whereabouts." and Tristan put on his black coat and left to go and meet Lucifer after centuries of absence.
Jerome had not been quick enough to pull down his shirt, and had been seen by Francois. He started to convulse going unnoticed as he was no longer of even a mere importance. No sooner had Tristan walked away, and Jerome burst into mere dust.
Putting down the mirror, Namia called for one of the servants to come clean up the mess and bring her some fresh clothes.
Once that was a accomplished, she began to look through the many books Tristan had in his library. Most of her life, as of late, had been devoted to the pursuit of pleasure, but pleasure can quickly become dull, and repetitive. Perhaps it was time to change her approach. Namia grabbed a couple of books about divination and began to read. She was particularly fascinated by pyromancy, which uses fire to determine signs, but the use of crystals, glass and water as a form of divination was what truly caught her eye.
Closing her eyes and concentrating hard, she pulled her self into a state of meditation clearing her mind of all thoughts. She concentrated on her inner voice, and gazed into the mirror, seeking answers from within.
At first everything seemed foggy and blurry, but slowly two figures came into her view. She watched as two of her servants flirted and talked about the days events with each other. She could not completely understand what they were saying but she had the sense that they were talking about her and Tristan.
She then focused her attention to Tristan and she was clearly able to see him laying on his bed asleep. She smiled to herself and lost the image, because she let herself get distracted.
When she was finally able to find him again, he was no longer in his bed but facing another demon whom she did not recognize. He was lifting up his shirt and showing his back to Tristan. There were strange words written upon this demon's back and Namia could not make out completely what it said, for it was very blurry, but she did manage to see the word "altar" before it faded away.
"How very strange" she thought as she pondered what it could all mean.
Namia walked up to her bedroom thinking about the things she had seen. She called to her loyal servant Diamond to ask what was going on.
He could not tell her much and only confirmed what she already knew.
"Did you see where Tristan went?" she asked him.
"I saw him going in the direction of the portal." he answered
Strange, neither of us have been to Hell in a very long time.... unless... he's been going there without my knowledge....
Namia walked away from her servant without a further word and without even noticing him. Normally, she would have dispensed him, but she was too busy trying to piece the puzzles in her mind.
Walking into her bedroom she noticed that the bed was still unmade and the closet door ajar. After taking a long bath and changing into her favourite slip, she pulled the covers over her as she laid on Tristan's side.
Burying her face into the pillow she inhaled his smell. It left her feeling a bit excited, but she sighed as she tried to remember the last time he had sought her.
Lately, she had only sought other company, but it wasn't the same.
I feel so hollow inside. He is the only one who can fill me, and yet I've succeeded in alienating my only sustaining life force.
Idiot... arrogant b***h.... why do I have to destroy the little that I have... he deserves a real wife, not me.... I just keep hurting him over and over again.
If I leave him... I'll die... I'll die alone.... but at least he will be happy... that's the least I could do, after all the hurt I've caused him...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
