Post by MrsCarterRivera on Oct 21, 2020 7:17:29 GMT -5
Sorry just dumping it here for safe keeping😂
Find Lady Carmilla Sanguina.
It should have been easy. On the few occasions George Wilberth had met her, he'd felt drawn to her in a way he couldn't explain. Everybody was. Like moths to the flickering flame. She had an aura about her that drew you in, a longing which burned inside you. A fire only she could extinguish. Carmilla was alluring and beautiful and George was well and truly captivated.
Find Lady Carmilla.
It was a game, he could sense that. If anything, Carmilla liked to stir up a bit of drama around her and it had worked. The ballroom was rapidly emptying as the guests went in search for her, glittering strands of confetti still falling from seemingly nowhere. A hunch-backed man at the piano didn't seem to notice the commotion and continued to play his eeriely haunting song, long bony fingers playing the keys with surprising tenderness.
George pushed his way through the crowds and headed for the stairs. If she wanted a game, he would play. He would do anything for her. The red carpet was soft underfoot, his tread silent as he paced down the corridor. Eyes from the portraits that lined the walls followed him, whispering, Carmilla's name dancing in his ear as he passed. Where would she hide?
George checked her guest room first. The door was unlocked and it swung open into a darkened room. "Lady Carmilla?" His voice carried through the room, but there was no returning answer. George stepped inside. There was a vanity table pushed up against the thickly-curtained window, where the stub of a candle burned weakly. Carmilla's trademark red lipstick had been abandoned amongst the other compacts of make-up, and beside that, an ivory hairbrush. George picked it up and let his thumb brush over the bristles, the image of her sat here brushing her hair sweet in his mind.
George replaced it and headed towards the closet. "Lady Carmilla?" He asked again as he pulled open the mahogany doors, though he didn't expect to find her there. Instead, he was greeted by several silky vampire capes, mostly in red and black. He ran his hand over the soft material and caught the hint of her perfume. Delightful.
George left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Where to look now? Most of the guests were downstairs or in the grounds, and as George stood and pondered, he caught the sound of singing. A clear lilting tune which guided him to the large double doors of the library. He would never mistake that sound. How often had he longed to hear it just one more time? As George entered the library, the singing stopped. Up ahead, a large portrait dominated the wall. A lone figure stood beneath it.
"I should have known you would find me," Lady Carmilla said without looking at him. She was gazing up at her elegantly painted face. The portrait was beautiful; Lady Carmilla herself, peeking coyishly from behind a red and black hand-held fan. Her green eyes seemed to call him.
"Always, my Lady." George came to a stop a few steps away. Carmilla finally turned to face him, those striking green eyes fixing him to the spot beneath her red and black mask. He felt his heart jutter, and she must have known as a smirk played on her red lips. "Sanguini sent everybody to find you."
"Oh, I know," she laughed girlishly, turning back to appraise the painting. "Did you know he paid over five million for this?"
"I did not."
"It was painted in 1750. It swapped hands a few times over the years, but Sanguini managed to get hold of it. I am rather glad. Better than it being hidden away in a dusty old museum." Carmilla turned back to face him, approaching slowly. Her smile was teasing. "You would pay that much?"
"More," George admitted. "But it isn't like having the real thing." He cleared his throat with a blush. "Being near the real you, Lady Carmilla."
"You are too kind. Too sweet." She was against him now, fingers toying with the collar of his shirt. When she smiled next, her fangs were on show. She tilted her head. "Hmm," she murmured, running a finger down his throat and feeling his pulse jump. "Maybe we should find out just how sweet..."
WC: 725
Find Lady Carmilla Sanguina.
It should have been easy. On the few occasions George Wilberth had met her, he'd felt drawn to her in a way he couldn't explain. Everybody was. Like moths to the flickering flame. She had an aura about her that drew you in, a longing which burned inside you. A fire only she could extinguish. Carmilla was alluring and beautiful and George was well and truly captivated.
Find Lady Carmilla.
It was a game, he could sense that. If anything, Carmilla liked to stir up a bit of drama around her and it had worked. The ballroom was rapidly emptying as the guests went in search for her, glittering strands of confetti still falling from seemingly nowhere. A hunch-backed man at the piano didn't seem to notice the commotion and continued to play his eeriely haunting song, long bony fingers playing the keys with surprising tenderness.
George pushed his way through the crowds and headed for the stairs. If she wanted a game, he would play. He would do anything for her. The red carpet was soft underfoot, his tread silent as he paced down the corridor. Eyes from the portraits that lined the walls followed him, whispering, Carmilla's name dancing in his ear as he passed. Where would she hide?
George checked her guest room first. The door was unlocked and it swung open into a darkened room. "Lady Carmilla?" His voice carried through the room, but there was no returning answer. George stepped inside. There was a vanity table pushed up against the thickly-curtained window, where the stub of a candle burned weakly. Carmilla's trademark red lipstick had been abandoned amongst the other compacts of make-up, and beside that, an ivory hairbrush. George picked it up and let his thumb brush over the bristles, the image of her sat here brushing her hair sweet in his mind.
George replaced it and headed towards the closet. "Lady Carmilla?" He asked again as he pulled open the mahogany doors, though he didn't expect to find her there. Instead, he was greeted by several silky vampire capes, mostly in red and black. He ran his hand over the soft material and caught the hint of her perfume. Delightful.
George left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Where to look now? Most of the guests were downstairs or in the grounds, and as George stood and pondered, he caught the sound of singing. A clear lilting tune which guided him to the large double doors of the library. He would never mistake that sound. How often had he longed to hear it just one more time? As George entered the library, the singing stopped. Up ahead, a large portrait dominated the wall. A lone figure stood beneath it.
"I should have known you would find me," Lady Carmilla said without looking at him. She was gazing up at her elegantly painted face. The portrait was beautiful; Lady Carmilla herself, peeking coyishly from behind a red and black hand-held fan. Her green eyes seemed to call him.
"Always, my Lady." George came to a stop a few steps away. Carmilla finally turned to face him, those striking green eyes fixing him to the spot beneath her red and black mask. He felt his heart jutter, and she must have known as a smirk played on her red lips. "Sanguini sent everybody to find you."
"Oh, I know," she laughed girlishly, turning back to appraise the painting. "Did you know he paid over five million for this?"
"I did not."
"It was painted in 1750. It swapped hands a few times over the years, but Sanguini managed to get hold of it. I am rather glad. Better than it being hidden away in a dusty old museum." Carmilla turned back to face him, approaching slowly. Her smile was teasing. "You would pay that much?"
"More," George admitted. "But it isn't like having the real thing." He cleared his throat with a blush. "Being near the real you, Lady Carmilla."
"You are too kind. Too sweet." She was against him now, fingers toying with the collar of his shirt. When she smiled next, her fangs were on show. She tilted her head. "Hmm," she murmured, running a finger down his throat and feeling his pulse jump. "Maybe we should find out just how sweet..."
WC: 725
