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Post by Angel ♥ on Jul 4, 2009 14:54:10 GMT -5
Le Couvert de la Vierge Divine was nestled amongst the foothills of the Gris Montagne Range, built into the side of one of the mountains, the inner most chambers of the convent hidden deep within the depths of one of the mountains. The path up to the convent was steep and precarious, designed to make it more difficult for anyone to attack the convent, not that there was very much there in the way of rare artifacts. Le Couvert wasn't especially important, and the only treasures that it guarded were a few old history tombes. The walls were high and grey, the door only looking tiny in the huge walls, heavily re-enforced, the windows high up so that no-one could clamber through them. It was a safe sanctuary, or as Etoile saw it, the perfect prison.
Today was extra ordinarily busy within the walls of Le Couvert, a buzz of what could be called excitement. The newly chosen Mother Superior Madeline was visiting, and everything had to be immaculate, so Etoile had spent most of her day pretending to dust the main chapel, and prancing about between the pews whenever she was left alone. From what she had bothered to listen to, she gathered that this new Mother Superior was rather talented at divination, or something along those lines. Apparently she could spot evil from a mile off. That thought made her chuckle to herself secretly, letting her hair fall over her shoulder to hide her smirk. She was going to end up holed up in one of the tiny rooms at the back of Le Couvert nursing her wounds by the end of today, she could just see it.
By midday she was sent to change into her best clothes, a plain, black dress made out of horrid, stiff cotton with a high neck. She despised it, and had long since ripped off half of the botton section so that the hem fell around her knees. She also, reluctantly, tied her hair back in a messy bun, leaving wisps of hair hanging around her face. She looked...like a librarian. Oh, how she wished for better clothes. Lovely silks in a rainbow of colours that were cool against your skin and moved with your body, and elegant hair clips rather than the tattered bit of ribbon that she had to make do with now. One day, one day she would get out of here and show them all.
Her light footsteps echoed around the corridor as she headed down to the main door, a bored look set on her features, her arms folded stubbornly over her chest. The nuns were lined up against the walls at either side of the doors, chattering eagerly amongst themselves. They paused for a moment as Etoile arrived, the girl shooting them a rather mischevious grin before settling to lean back against the wall and close her eyes, listening as the conversation started up again. She was under strict orders to behave today, and the angry red mark across the back of her left hand told that the nun who ran Le Couvert had given her more than a friendly warning. They would be keeping a close eye on her today, not that they didn't always. She couldn't get away with anything here, stupid, vigilant nuns.
Everything went silent as a bell rang overhead, the sound rattling around in her head, making her feel dizzy. That meant that the Mother Superior was here, outside the door. The head nun walked down towards the door, carefully unbolting the locks before opening the door to let in the brisk, mountain breeze. Mother Superior Madeline was a large woman with hard features, wrinkles creasing the corners of her watery, blue eyes. She beamed at the nuns as she stepped into the convent, flanked by her own little entourage of nun (her guards had to wait outside, no men were allowed in Le Couvert, much to Etoile's dismay), before she greeted them all, Etoile rolling her eyes from where she stood in the shadows. "I am most excited to be visiting you sisters. Thank you for your hospitality, I am sure that my stay here will be most enjoyable." Could this woman have been any duller?
Etoile remained in the shadows as they all moved to file into the main chapel. she had been trying to stay behind, hoping to slink off out of Le Couvert while the door was open, but Sister Constance (her worst enemy) grabbed her by the arm to drag her along with them, another nun lingering behind to relock the door, shutting out the outside world once again.
The girl was the last person to be escorted into the main chapel, but she froze as she stepped inside, suddenly finding herself the subject of the Mother Superior's suddenly intense gaze. The room was silent, all eyes on Etoile, not that it seemed to phase the girl at all. She pulled her arm free of Sister Constance's grip, resting her hands on her hips as she met the woman's gaze. Madeline was the first to speak, however, raising an accusing finger to point at the girl, gasping dramatically. "This Devil should not be allowed into a house of God!"
That made Etoile smirk, biting back a laugh as she rolled her eyes. "Mon Dieu! This old bat is crazier than the others." She responded, her accent pleasantly lilited with an Ecitetrean twang. Oh yes, by the end of today she was definatly going to have gotten herself into trouble.
The woman didn't seem phased by Etoile's insult, narrowing her eyes at the girl, looking disgusted by the very sight of her. "Demon." She spat the word as though she couldn't bear to have it on her tongue. "Filthy, monster blood masquerading around under the cover of a human." The nun looked derranged, actually psychotic. A demon? That was absurd. She actually laughed at that accusation, unable to stop herself, and that only seemed to enrage the woman even more. "And this little Devil's consort thinks that her deception is humerous, well, I know a cure for that." She smirked and Etoile took a step back. This was serious, wasn't it? They actually believed this loon. "Sacre bleu, you can't actually believe this lunatic?" She questioned, but from the way that they rose to her feet, some cowering away from her, she knew that they believed her.
"Grab her." Madeline instructed and Sister Constance, being the closest to her, grabbed her arm in an iron grip, another nun grabbing her other, flailing arm, holding her in place which she shouted obscenities at them. At a signal from the head nun from Le Couvert Etoile was dragged out of the chapel and down the corridor, dragged deep into the bowels of the mountain. She knew where they were taking her, taking her to that small, dark room with the leather straps on the floor. That was where they whipped her when she misbehaved, using the straps to tie her hands down to the ground. What they were planning though, was beyond her.
She went surprisingly quietly, her held held high. She had some dignity at least. She did, however, growl at them threateningly as they tied her hands to the ground using the leather straps, forcing her to kneel down on the ground. "Ahh, now she shows her true colours. When knelt before God you cannot hide anything." Madeline smirked, looming over her. "You will be stoned to death, like the monster that you are. May God have mercy upon your soul."
Stoned to death. Stoned? That didn't sould very pleasant. The muscles in her arms flexed and burnt as she tugged against the straps with all her might, her teeth gritted together. She needed her fire, she needed fire now. She could feel her palms prickling and growing warm, but though she tried with all her might, but to no avail. A small trickle of blood ran down from her nose from the sheer effort of trying to make the fire, but having no idea what she was doing. Oh, shit, she was panicking now...panicking was never good. She couldn't die like this, not in this hole under Le Couvert, she refused.
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Jul 4, 2009 17:12:40 GMT -5
Vyncent wasn't lost. Vyncent didn't get lost, he always knew exactly where he was. Take now for instance. Right now he knew that he was standing near the beginnings of a rather large mountain among the high peaks and steep ridges of the Gris Montagne Range. The sky was clear and the sun wasn't too hot, and he could see the startings of a path leading up to what he thought could only be a convent from its bland exterior and aura of sheer boredom. The bold crucifix just visible on its rooftop might have been a bit of a give away too. So he knew exactly where he was, the rest of the world just needed time to catch up was all. He was in a fairly good mood to be honest, not quite knowing just how he had ended up among the mountains from that luxurious city he had visited before, but here he was.
Quirking one silvery brow, he tilted his head up to look at the building. Vyncent didn't particularly get along with convents for considerably obvious reasons, but he was in the mood for a little havoc. Wasn't he always? One of the swift mountain gales whistled past him from the direction of the place, sending his coat billowing out behind him and carrying the obvious scent of incense and purity and women sailing down to him. His blood-red eyes glittered with a cheerful kind of malevolence at this and a cat-like smirk lit up his pale face. Well, since he was waiting for the world to catch up with him so that he knew where he was, he might as well pay his respects to the aforementioned convent. Those sisters would have to look out. Hell was coming for breakfast.
The path up to the precarious buildng was just as tedious and dangerous as the nuns had intended it to be, but none of this appeared to phase the High Demon much; he was quite happy to hop between crevices that were high up and lift himself onto ledges to continue the passage up. The odd cougar or mountain lion was nothing to him either, and although he found a strange pleasure in watching these graceful predators, he found that they burned just as well as any other living thing. He was about halfway there when he looked up sharply all of a sudden, head cocked to one side and his brows knitted together in a frown. He could hear a bell. How quaint! Vyncent actually seemed rather amused by the sound, a faint smile on his face as he scaled a small cliff as a short cut and found his way back to the path.
Soon enough the convent appeared in front of him, as grey and oppressive as ever, built into the very mountain itself as though it was growing on it like a malignant cancer. Hah. He quite liked the sound of that. But something had changed, he thought as he looked at the tiny-looking door within the walls. The scent had changed, he could smell metal and more than that, men. Guards? They must have been. They certainly looked like it anyway, lifting their weapons as soon as they saw Vyncent approach, seeming stern and as cold and boring as the convent itself. He'd have to warm them up a little. Indeed, the black flames he was renowned for were stirring at his feet even as he walked up towards the colossal door, the guards looking nervous now, recognition flashing through the eyes of a few of them.
"It's... it's you!" one cried all of a sudden, and there was an elegant lick of fire, the sudden flash of an ebony blade and the sound of a wailing, mournful song as Amor drank her fill of souls before the little entrance outside the convent was bathed in a spray of blood and several, clean cut limbs. Vyncent was quite proud of his efficiency - they barely had a chance to scream, which meant there would be no interruption, no calling for back-up, no consequences. He could take his sweet time with this visit. Without a word, he used the torn shirt of a guard to wipe his blade clean before sheathing his rapier, surveyed his attire for a moment to check that there wasn't any crimson on it that wasn't meant to be there, and approached the door.
"You've got a little something on your face there." he commented politely to the body of a guard slumped against the wall next to him, whose throat had been cut and whose blood was definitely not just on his face. Shrugging as he received no answer (ignorant bastard, that guard was), Vyncent thought about knocking for a moment, seeming to think it the more polite and agreeable thing to do. He was VISITING, after all. Pondering to himself, he eventually raised his hand to his lips, whispered a few words in a foreign tongue that made the air shimmer and whistle around him, before, quite simply forming his hand into a fist and... knocking.
The problem was that the knock happened to unleash the elemental power he'd locked into his hand, and the heavy, armoured doors suddenly buckled inwards and sprang open with the force of a sudden gale-force wind, hammering to the ground with a booming echo that was loud enough to wake the dead. As the dust cleared, Vyncent stepped inside, nonchalant as ever, hopping gracefully from the fallen doors and looking into the faces of dozens of suddenly horrified nuns. "Bonjour, sisters." he purred to them, although the greeting was laced with venom and a tone of condescending loathing, even if the smile on his face (although a little unnerving) was still remarkably light and carefree.
Bemusement worked its way into his expression, however, when, at seeing the flickering black flames flickering at his feet and the scarlet of his eyes, a nearby nun threw herself against the wall and gasped in horror. "The Devil-child's father has come to seek vengeance! May God have mercy on us all! Mother Superior! Madame Madeline! Un démon de feu!" she cried in a fit of what Vyncent could only see as madness. But her words seemed to spread like a disease, and shrieks and cries of alarm ran rampant through the gathering of nuns, most of which seemed halfway to going somewhere, but the demon didn't know where. He was, in fact, more curious about where they were all going than he was about the sister's exclamation.
Vyncent was pretty certain that he had sired no unholy offspring as of yet (he had made very certain that any that WERE unlikely, and yet unfortunately unlucky enough to make it into the world were swiftly 'taken care' of) and so he hadn't a clue as to what the lunatic woman was talking about. His interest, however, had managed to have been peaked, and he guessed that wherever this demon-child was, that was where everyone was going. Might as well follow.
A roar of black fire rushed from beneath his feet with a crackle of excitement, crawling up the walls of the entranceway and consuming many a screaming nun hungrily in its want for annihilation. Candelabras crashed to the ground amid the screams of pain and confusion, the mass of sisters rushing, panicked to their destination, the curious Vyncent in their wake. By the time he had trailed into the bowels of the convent much of his fire had eaten away the paintings and tapestries (and people), and the corridors, although painfully loud with their echoes of the terrified sisters, were deserted. Which was when he found himself outside a small room, whose doors were open. The light from the outside would have made him almost seem to glow to those on the shadowy interior of the room, casting a brilliant gold halo around his silvery hair and making his eyes gleam like red gems.
At first his piercing gaze was on a large, robust looking woman who seemed to carry all the authority and poise of a damp washcloth, but in no time at all his eyes flitted to the girl on the floor. The one with the nosebleed. This day just got more interesting.
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Post by Angel ♥ on Jul 4, 2009 18:18:19 GMT -5
Etoile hardly registered the boom that echoed down from the main part of Le Couvert, nor did she seem to hear the frightened yells from the nuns. She was trapped in her own little bubble of panic, breathing in short, sharp bursts as the walls seemed to press in on her. She needed to get out. That was all that her mind would tell her. She needed to get out now. She couldn't breathe; her chest was tight and her throat was constricting, her mind was swimming from a lack of oxygen. Her eyes were pressed closed to block out the rest of the world, tears of frustration dampening her eyelashes. If she was a monster like they said then why weren't they all writhing in pain while she stood over them and laughed?
A stone hitting her was actually a stroke of bad luck rather than the start of her doom, it jolted her suddenly back to reality, clearing her head and triggering those much needed flames. It hit her head, breaking the skin, blood blossoming from the cut and running down the side of her face as her eyes snapped open, a twisted smirk settling on her lips. She clenched her fists and cherry red flames sprang into life around her hands, the fire devouring the leather straps hungrily. In truth, she was barely aware of what she was doing, that red mist of anger having fallen over her mind, taking control of her body. This was the monster that Mother Superior Madeline had seen, and she would make sure that she was the last thing that the derranged old woman ever saw as well.
She rose to her feet in one fluid motion, stepping forward to grab the woman before she could flee. She placed a hand on either side of the shaking woman's face, almost in a tender gesture...well...it would have been if her hands weren't still on fire. Madeline shrieked as her flesh bubbled and burn, Etoile hushing her gently, digging her nails into the sides of her face. "There there, though you walk through the valley of death you are not alone...and all that shit. Maybe now you should prey, nun." She grinned before rather suddenly twisting her head around so that her neck cracked, Etoile dropping her as she went limp.
The flames faded around her hands died down as she released the Mother Superior, Etoile looking dazed as she rubbed at her forehead. Her gaze was drawn to Vyncent almost instantly, looking...well...awed. She could smell the fear that surrounded him, it made her feel...well...drunk. She was drunk on fear, that made her giggle at the stranger. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that he was her saviour, but right now she wasn't thinking in straight lines. "You know what?" She asked the strange man, nudging the body with her foot. "I think I killed the bitch. She tried to kill me...and I killed her...kinda ironic huh?"
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Jul 5, 2009 13:15:45 GMT -5
Vyncent appeared to have arrived just in time to watch the first stone sail through the air, thrown by a sister who obviously hadn't noticed that the gentleman death himself was hovering in the doorway. Soon after she'd thrown it, however, and those deep crimson flames sprang to life from the child on the floor (the demon wrinkled his nose in confusion as her scent floated over to him) the same panic that had infected all of the other nuns now crammed in the little room with Vyncent blocking their only exit flooded through her. The large, drab woman who seemed to be the leader of this little clique of nonsense hadn't even noticed him yet, while the others looked torn between staying with the monster child in the room or the monster standing at the door. Vyncent chose for them soon enough however, the ebony flames dancing at his feet as he smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile.
Amor was drawn soon after, the High Demon barely noticing the little act of murder that was being commited within the room as he played with the rest of the sisters, stepping elegantly out of the way of the door to watch them try to escape before the fire caught up with them. In no time at all only the Mother Superior was left (well, by now only her corpse was left) along with the deranged girl and, of course, himself. He had already lifted the gleaming, black blade of the rapier to point it at the child in a gesture that said that he was by no means in a merciful mood when she spoke, and he caught the awe in her eyes - a deranged, playful kind of mood, yes... but certainly not merciful. What WAS this kid? A faint frown knotted his eyebrows together as she spoke, and he took a deep breath in and let it out again.
Her scent was all wrong. It was completely and utterly wrong. And the part that did seem vagely familiar didn't exactly fill him with joy either, it was a hateful scent. But especially considering that he'd seen the fire for himself, he knew that she wasn't all human. A half-demon? Ugh. He twisted the blade so that it caught the light as he tilted his head at her, as if wondering to himself what to do with the developing situation. "Ironic?" he purred, "Ma chérie, the true irony of life is that hardly anyone gets out of it alive." he commented, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly as he remembered the fire that had erupted from her fingertips, his own ebon flames curling around his feet. Now he knew where that scent had come from. And really, he should have killed her instantly. "Altair." he growled, scrutinising her for a moment.
But, strangely, instead of striking her down as would have been the appropriate thing, he lowered his rapier and slipped it back into the sheath, gazing at her for only a moment more before turning with a flourish and walking back down the corridor, leaving her there. He had other things to concern himself with at present, he wasn't letting one little snag in his plan ruin his cheerful mood. He was heading back to the entrance hall now, footsteps light and graceful on the blackened marble floor, a few of the unlucky surviving sisters spotting him and instantly running for their lives.
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Post by Angel ♥ on Jul 5, 2009 14:30:28 GMT -5
Gentleman Death? Yes, that was the perfect description for the strange man that had swept into Le Couvert, bringing with him such a delicious air of fear. Now he was most definatly a demon, beautiful and savage, perfectly composed in the midst of such panic. Ha, and the nuns thought that she had been the monster. She had no idea how he had stumbled upon Le Couvert, but his timing was perfect. What better time was there for him to decide to slaughter everything within these walls than now, when they were mistaking her for a devil? It was almost as though it was planned; surely coincidence couldn't be so perfectly timed?
Her senses began to return to her as she noticed the point of the onyx coloured blade pointing towards her, definace lighting in her eyes. Gentleman Death or not, she had just escaped death, and she had no intentions of dying now. The flames around her hands had died down a little, reducing to tongues of fire which danced between her fingers lazily. Her anger had dulled to a bubbling annoyance, and the flames had reacted to that. Hopefully, seeing as they were there, they would flare up again much more easily if the need arose. From the way the man was surveying her, however, she hoped that she was safe. He looked almost bemused by her, as though he had never seen a creature like Etoile before.
When he spoke her fathers name the flames extinguished, Etoile looking up at the man with a wide eyed surprise. He knew her father? How did he know her father? She had to surpress the hope that bubbled inside her. She had spent too long harbouring that little spark of hope, watching it dwindle over the years, she wouldn't get carried away now only to be disappointed again. "How do you know my father? Where is he?" She questioned, sounding suspicious of him. If he knew her father then why had he looked so confused when he first saw her, was he not expecting her to be here?
She lingered where she was as he stalked away from her, thinking for a moment before following after him, her footsteps silent on the stone floor. Her gaze flickered around, darting from body to body, a strange little smile working its way over her features. All this violence and slaughter did unnerve her in the least, in fact, she seemed facinated, following the stranger in the hopes that she would get to see a show of his abilities. She could even slip out of Le Couvert while the nuns were busy running for their lives...and then she would be free!
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Jul 5, 2009 15:16:24 GMT -5
The High Demon didn't reply in the slightest to the questions she fired at him about her father; if she knew what he had to say about the other demon then he might find himself getting a tad pissed off, and Vyncent getting angry would make the elegant, carefree slaughter here look like child's play. But it only confirmed that she was connected to Altair in some way, and that he hadn't been mistaken about her scent. Ah, so the bastard had sired a half-demon, had he? Tut tut, indeed, staining his hands by allowing a disgusting mortal to have his child. However, he thought, glancing over his shoulder at Etoile who he could hear following as he swept down the corridor, she certainly didn't seem like one of those snivelling half-demon creatures. She even seemed to relish in the idea, but then why had he found her about to be stoned to death in a convent?
She hadn't looked as though she'd been captured, she seemed dressed as though she lived there. No, it couldn't have been possible. Altair, you cunning bastard! Not telling either mortal or child about his demonic heritage, that was just the cherry on the top. Well, he certainly had made a valuable find here, hadn't he? Vyncent's mood seemed to have picked up again as he entered the charred, burning entrance way, just catching the glimpse of a few nuns trying to escape up the stairs and through doors into the bowels of the convent to hide from him. "Now now, madmoiselles, there's no need to hurry." he told them calmly in his velvet voice, clicking his fingers effortlessly so that the fire condensed, almost seeming to breathe as it ate away at the beams and the doorframes, causing them to collapse and giving the sisters no chance to escape.
There did seem to be an awful lot of them though... was something supposed to be happening when he decided to pay his little visit, or were they all just so happy to see him they decided to gather at the entrance way? Perhaps the kid even had something to do with it, he didn't know. Either way, that charming yet eerie little smile was on his face as one of the sisters was unfortunate enough to run straight into him, blinded by the smoke beginning to gather in heady clouds near the ceiling. "Hold on there, sweetheart, where's the fire?" he asked her softly, that catlike smirk on his face as the frightened sister, probably only in her twenties, looked up at him with sheer, doe-like horror in her expression.
"Now, sweetheart, there's no need to look like that." The hungry look of the predator that glittered in his eyes told that yes, there certainly was a reason to look like that, but he didn't particularly give mind to this. His arm snaked around her waist, seeming to find her repulsion entertaining, and in seconds he had swooped down to capture her lips in a kiss. The whole thing would have looked rather elegant and staged had the sister's knuckles not been white with the force at which she was clinging to his arm to try and push him away, but it was about as effective as a dove flapping its wings while in the jaws of a cat. It wasn't long before they parted and he pressed his lips to the soft flesh of her neck, the sharp points of his canines dragging slowly over her skin.
It happened remarkably quickly; one second he was standing as though embracing a lover, and the next there was a tremendous spray of blood and the shriek of the nun was cut off half-way, the other survivors seeming sickened. A few even fainted. Vyncent straightened up a few seconds after, spat something to the floor and carelessly dropped the mangled body of the poor wretch to the ground. "Happens every time. They're all so fragile." he sighed guiltlessly, "Ah, well... C'est la vie."
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Post by Angel ♥ on Jul 5, 2009 16:17:57 GMT -5
Etoile scowled at his silence, though she bit back her complaints. With anyone else she would have pressed the issue until he answered her, but with him she imagined that pressing the issue would lead to her death, or decaptitation, or something equally as nasty. She folded her arms over her chest though, as if just to let him know that she was annoyed, even if she wasn't voicing that annoyance, pouting at him a little. Did he know her father, obviously because he had said his name, but...how did a man like this, a demon, know her father? What business did they have with one another? Were they friends? Did he know where her father was? Was her father there right now? There were so many questions fluttering around in her head, distracting her from all of the lovely horror that surrounded them.
She snapped back to reality as she heard his voice cut through the chaos, blinking back her thoughts before looking up at him, unhidden awe in her eyes. He was hardly breaking a sweat as he sent the roaring flames after the nun's, Etoile stuck by the beauty of the curling tongues of fire as they chased after the women, blocking off their escape. It was like a game of cat and mouse, he was playing with his prey before ending their life, taking amusment from watching them squirm. She had to admit that the fear in the nun's eyes was strangely satisfying, Etoile smirking contently.
She withdrew to watch the carnage, carelessly knocking a vase from a table before perching upon it. She had a good view of the carnage from where she was sat, leaning back against the wall comfortably. She had to admire his flair, everything seeming planned out for the drama, like a show. The theatrics were only enhanced by the fountain of blood which sprang from the woman's neck. Etoile couldn't help but applaud him as he dropped the body to the ground.
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Jul 5, 2009 16:40:06 GMT -5
The applause snapped Vyncent out of whatever demented little world he had been in just a few moments before, as if reminding him just where he was and what was going on. He wasn't immune to the effect of the terror and gut-wrenching horror that laced through the air, as sweet as honey, and he was feeling rather giddy himself. Although he quickly collected himself and turned artistically, his red coat flaring out behind him as he settled his eyes on her, wondering for a moment what she was doing. His face was streaked with the dark crimson stain of blood; it dripped from his chin and the tips of his hair and his once white shirt was now a patchwork of scarlet. He caught on eventually though, a satisfied smirk on his face as he drew back and took a flamboyant bow amongst the carnage he'd created.
This half-demon child had gotten his full attention now; he didn't quite know what he was going to do with her yet, but considering that she couldn't have known what she was, had (as far as he could see) little to no control over the fire she had inherited and that her father was Altair - Altair for Christ's sake, he wouldn't be leaving without her. Indeed, he actually seemed rather captivated by her currently, done with his blood-lust and deciding to leave the wounded skeleton of a convent with its roasted Mother Superior and maimed sisters for another day, perhaps. Which was why, after he straightened up again, he lifted a pale hand to beckon for her to follow him and then turned on heel to walk towards the splintered, gaping entrance of the convent, taking care to deliberately step on the torn, bloodied throat of the dead nun on his way out.
The mountain breeze was refreshing after being in that dusty old wreck, Vyncent thought lightly as he hopped over the fallen doors and back out where the corpses of the guards were still propped up like ragdolls and sprawled lifelessly as though they had tripped over something. He had the climb down from the path to look forward to, but that was nothing to him. He didn't even think, or likely care, about how the girl would cope. A thoughtful person, was Vyncent. "Your father isn't here." he spoke softly, finally realising that a while back she'd asked about that pointless waste of space. The black fire was rushing swiftly in lines out of the the convent now, climbing down the walls and flitting back to its master, where it gathered around his feet for a moment before finally fizzling out.
"Have you got a name, petit chéri?" he asked softly, not looking behind him as he began to walk.
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Post by Angel ♥ on Jul 5, 2009 17:13:32 GMT -5
The girl hopped to her feet with the fluid grace of a dancer as he beckoned her, taking a moment to smooth the creases out of her dress. That was another thing that she hated about the awful garment, you just had to move and it was full of nasty creases that made her look all untidy. She seemed to have forgotten that the cut on her forehead and the blood it had leaked onto her face also made her look untidy. Then again, as things were at the moment she would have looked out of place if she hadn't been splattered by at least a little bit of blood. Crimson was the predominant colour in a once drab and grey, adding a splash of colour to such a boring place.
Etoile doubted that Le Couvert would ever be able to recover from this. There would only be a few nuns left, and they would be scarred for life. New people could be sent to live there, but no matter how hard they scrubbed they wouldn't be able to get rid of the blood stains on the marble floors or the sense of terror in the air. The whole atmosphere of the place had been polluted by this slaughter. People would refuse to come here. Ha! She could see it now, people would look upon Le Couvert as somewhere haunted and evil, there would be stories of ghosts roaming the halls and teenagers would dare one another to enter the abandoned halls in search of the monsters that lurked within. Etoile would never come back here though, not for anything.
She smiled as she stepped out of the building, carelessly walking over the bodies of the fallen nuns. Well, it wasn't as if they needed their bodies anymore, was it? She paused in the doorway, briefly closing her eyes to enjoy the fresh, mountain air, reaching up to untie her hair and let it tumble freely down over her shoulders, releasing the ribbon into the breeze, watching it twist through the air and out of sight. She was finally leaving Le Couvert. World, here she came!
"Aw, that's a shame, nevermind." She murmured and pouted faintly, though right now nothing could dampen her mood. She smiled to him as he asked her name, giving a playful little curtsey. "Etoile De Vaux." She introuduce herself, "Pleasure to meet you Monsieur...?" She trailed off and tilted her head at him, leaving him to fill in his name.
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Jul 5, 2009 17:34:55 GMT -5
He glanced over his shoulder at her just in time to see her curtsey, smirking to himself before looking back at the trail and beginning to descend down its steep incline, back towards the sharp ridges and high ledges and everything else that he'd scaled to get to the convent. It had been worth it though. He'd even gotten to take a little treasure away with him, so he definitely couldn't complain. He'd never expected to find someone like that girl high up in a God-forsaken, grey and dull place like Le Couvert, this had put him in a good mood for at least the rest of the day. He hopped over a steep crevice between the trail as though it was nothing at all, finding this a good place to survey where they were; it was high up, the air was clear and he could see if the world had caught up to where he was yet. Because he still wasn't lost.
"Etoile." he sounded the name on his tongue, considering it for a moment or two before deciding that he liked it, nodding faintly. "Star." he translated, seeming lost again in his own little world as he wrinkled his nose. No, he preferred the Ecritetrean pronunciation. He was silent while she spoke, listening at the same time as his eyes flitted over the uneven and perilous lands below them, smiling victoriously as he spotted the city he'd been at only a day before far in the distance as a clump of buildings. That was good, now he knew which direction he'd be going, regardless of whether the trail took him that way. "Hm...?" he looked back as she trailed off, examining her for a moment before her question caught up with him.
"Vyncent Schwarz." he greeted her with all the flair of a noble, nodding politely before swiftly vaulting over the ledge they were standing upon and landing softly a good six feet down on the one below it, pausing to wait for her (assuming she could follow) and then setting off again, picking his way towards the city and making slow progress, as expected. He had no doubt that she, with her Ecritetrean tongue would struggle with his surname, the High Demon damning his father and his rotten, Marmosian heritage for the umpteenth time since he'd even existed. He continued along the trail he was making for a good few minutes more, before suddenly stopping, whirling around to stare at her for a moment. "...My," he murmured eventually, looking rather scandalised, "They really did have a hideous dress sense in that place, didn't they?"
He wrinkled his nose and continued on, shaking his head and muttering criticisms of the convent to himself as he walked. And then he asked, "You really don't know what you are, do you?"
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Post by Angel ♥ on Jul 5, 2009 18:03:14 GMT -5
The look in Etoile's eyes was calculating as she watched him effortlessly flit down the path. The descent from Le Couvert was going to be fun, wasn't it? They weren't going to get anywhere quickly, even if Etoile was as amazingly agile as Vyncent they wouldn't get anywhere quickly. After a moment's thought she followed him, not quiet as effotlessly, but undoubtably as gracefully, landing softly beside Vyncent. "Enchanté Monsieur Shhh...Scccc...Swww...Monsieur Vyncent." She gave up on her attempt at pronouncing his surname. The letters and sounds just didn't flow, she would stick with his first name, that was far easier to say. "Where on earth did you get such a terrible surname. Is it meant to be impossible to say?" She asked him with a faint scowl.
She went quiet as she naviaged her way down the trail, Etoile proving to be a as surefooted as a mountain goat, unable to jump great distances like Vyncent did, but rather she flitted between small ledges as she followed him, never once stumbling or losing her balance. She was actually begining to enjoy the challenge, testing out just how far she could jump and how quickly she could do it. It had been far too long since she had been out in the open like this and Etoile couldn't put into words how over joyed she felt right now. It didn't even bother her that the man that she had chosen to follow was a murderer, no, worse than that, a mass murdering demon; that just made him more interesting.
She paused as he looked around at her, balanced with just one foot on a tiny ledge, pouting as she looked to her dress. "It is horrid, isn't it?" She sighed as she finished her descent and stood next to him, plucking at the fabric of her dress. "I fear that fashion sense is something that nun's don't have." She mumbled before suddenly looking up at him to smile innocently. "You, however, seem to have a flair for style. Dressed like this I would only embarrass you, once we get to a town you should buy me a new dress to save you the embarrassement." She suggested, making it sound as though this deal would benefit him rather than her. She did seem to assume that he was going to let her follow him around though, she hoped that she was right.
There was a bounce to her step as she walked along next to him, looking bemused at his last comment. "Know what I am? Of course I know what I am. I'm a ballerina...but they made me leave the academy because I was bad." She huffed, proving that she was totaly oblivious to her heritage.
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Jul 5, 2009 18:25:27 GMT -5
He couldn't help the light smirk on his face as she struggled with his name, as he'd suspected, sighing exhasperatedly and nodding dramatically as though it was something that had been flung onto him without his permission that he couldn't get rid of, as hard as he tried. "It's tedious, isn't it? It means 'black' if that's any help to you." he commented softly, shaking his head as they walked. He actually managed a dark sounding chuckle as she played up to him and fed his ego; Vyncent would never object to having his pride pampered, after all, and he glanced back at her with amusement in his eyes. "Chéri, I had every intention of relieving you of that ridiculous attire. I'm not walking around with someone who wears a creased-up curtain." he told her nonchalantly, shuddering as he examined the dress for a second time.
In all honesty, despite who her father was Vyncent could see him taking a rare liking to the little half-monster; she was polite, she wasn't scant with her compliments and she seemed intelligent and well-spoken, despite all of his efforts to hate every living thing, person or animal he came across. But then his heart sank. A ballerina? Oh, Gods, she was a half-wit. That was his initial conclusion anyway, until his memory reminded him that she obviously must have a brain in her head. Perhaps she was just deluded. In that place, he wouldn't have been surprised. "That's what I thought." he muttered, shaking his head. "So, I can take it that you didn't know what your father was either." he was talking mostly to himself now, that calculating gleam in his eyes that said he was right about what he'd suspected. Oh, it just got better and better.
"A ballerina you might aspire to be, but it's certainly not what you are." he shook his head, leaping over a steep ridge and down to the next ledge. "They were going to stone you to death for being 'the devil's child', am I correct?" he looked back at her. "Well, they weren't far wrong, but you're no child of mine, let me tell you." he rolled his eyes, pausing then to gaze straight across her, the light causing the drying blood on his face to seem all the more bright. "I hate to break this to you sweetheart," (he didn't really, he was utterly enjoying it) "But you're a monster. A demon. Well, half a demon to be correct. If Altair's your father, in any case." he shrugged, turning now to continue along the rocky cliffside.
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Post by Angel ♥ on Jul 6, 2009 8:10:00 GMT -5
Etoile tilted her head to the side as he spoke about his name, smirking a little as he told her the meaning of his surname. "Monsieur Noir, sounds rather mysterious, don't you think?" She laughed light heartedly and shook her head a little. It sounded like something from a silly, romantic story. She did glance down at herself again as he likened her attire to a creased curtain, the way that she wrinkled her nose up showing that she had to agree with him. "I am not exactly thrilled to be walking around wearing a creased curtain either. Would you believe that this is supposed to be my best dress?" She shuddered as she thought of her other clothing, equally drab and unflattering. They could stay where they were and rot, that was all they would be good for anyway.
Etoile was by no means a half-wit. She may be a little sheltered, but that came from being locked away in a nunnery for the best part of the last decade. She was rather bright, learning quickly when the subject interested her. She knew how to read, her handwriting was neat and tidy, if not a little flamboyant, and she could count and do basic mathematics. That was more of an edcucation that the biggest part of the population, but she was a noble, so what else could be expected? It wouldn't do for her to be an illeterate idiot, she had been enough of an embarrassment to her family as it was, they would have died of shame if se had turned out to be a complete idiot aswell.
The girl paused at the top of the ledge that Vyncent had just leapt from, scowling in disbelief as she looked down at him. Of course, disbelief was the first emotion she would register, but the more she thought about it the more it made sense. Talking theoretically, if her father had been a demon, it would explain why he had been away so much, and would go towards explaining his disappearance. Demonic blood was also the perfect explination for her fire, how else could it be explained. She glanced up at Le Couvert for a moment, finding herself smirking darkly. A convent, they had hidden a monster away in a convent, it was an amusing thought really.
She leapt down from the ledge to land lightly next to Vyncent, resting her hands on her hips as she looked up at him, a mixture of curiosity and reluctant acceptance in her eyes. "If we are both demons, albeit I am half, why is your fire black and mine red?" She questioned, as though that made a difference, at least in her mind it did. "And mine always comes from my hands...yours seems to just appear out of nowhere..."
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Post by Vyncent Schwarz on Jul 6, 2009 16:08:10 GMT -5
"Monsieur Noir..." he spoke the name softly to himself, smirking ever so slightly. Actually, he found himself quite liking the name. He may even use it in the future, if he remembered it. He actually looked disgusted, however, at being informed that the THING she was wearing was her best dress, seeming to be considering just burning the garment off her now and making her walk naked to the city - Falaise, he believed it was called, and whether they'd approve of her wearing nothing at all as she reached its borders, it had to be better than what she was wearing currently. "We're getting you some new clothes." he informed her with a shake of his head as though she should already know that, hopping down a small embankment and getting onto a wider, leveled out cliff which stretched for a fair distance, covered with little grassy patches and small, delicate mountain flowers.
He paused as she landed next to him, having sensed her stop and whirling around, carefully pushing a lock of bloody silver hair from his face as he stared down at her. "Because," he told her with a dangerous little smirk on his face, "I'm much more than a demon, and you're much less than a demon." he just wanted to slot that in there before she got any ideas that being some half-demon spawnling was something to be proud of, before his smile became a little less hostile. "And I suppose heritage must have something to do it. My mother never had fire like mine," he sounded rather uncomfortable with these repeated references to his parents; Vyncent didn't HAVE any parents in his eyes, his father never existed and his mother... well, the less said about her the better. "Your father always had red fire, though." he muttered darkly, smiling grimly to himself, "Some have red, others gold, orange, mixtures of the colours. Never met another person with fire like mine though." he shook his head.
At the mentioning that her flames only lit up from her hands, charcoal black embers lit up in a vague circle around his feet, and he scrutinised her for a second. "I'm surprised you have fire at all." he admitted, narrowing his eyes, "Not many halflings manage it alone." he was reluctant to admit that she was talented, so he said nothing more about that, but raised a hand to let his flames curl up to lick around his wrist. "It's because, to put it bluntly, you have no idea what you're trying to do." he shrugged, clenching his hand into a fist which caused the fire to extinguish. "Whereas people seem to recognise the colour of the fire that's eating their houses before they see my face, and they still know that it's me. All in good time, though." he chuckled, spinning on heel to lead them off once more, falling silent now.
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Post by Angel ♥ on Jul 6, 2009 16:42:40 GMT -5
Etoile might just be a little annoyed at Vyncent if he decided to burn her clothes off her there and then. She may have been a confident person, but strutting around in the nude into a strange town on her first trip outside for years may be something that she wouldn't be comfortable doing. Maybe in a couple of years time when she would burn people's eyes out for looking at her, but not just yet. Plus, she guessed that the guards in the town might take an extra interest in Vyncent if he arrive with a naked girl, and any attention from the guards was bad attention. Plus, she might just get arrested for public indecency. and that wouldn't be a good start to her freedom either.
She paused as he turned around to face her, seeming to brush off his attempts to belittle her without so much as a crossed word. He didn't like half bloods, she got it. She would also never directly compare her abilites with his in the terms of power. She was undoubtably weaker than him, that went without question. She was just curious about the differences. "You are more than a demon?" She repeated after him, the questioning in her voice not doubting him but rather asking what exactly he was. If not a demon then what was he, a Devil? What exactly was a devil? She wasn't sure, but if there was such a thing she could imagine Vyncent fitting the role perfectly. "Your fire is really rather distinctive, almost like a calling card." She agreed with him thoughtfully.
The ebony flames danced in her gold eyes as she watched him, her eyes widening a little with facination. He had such control. It was as though the flames were at his bidding. She had a hard enough time making the flames light up around her hands, nevermind have them doing circus tricks. "You're right. I don't have any idea what I'm doing at all...all I know is that the fire comes when I am angry..." She explained to him, raising her hand to look at it, turning it over as she studied it, as though looking for the key to the fire. "Maybe I can only make it when I'm mad...because I'm only half and all?" She suggested.
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