Satis House

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

Antha took a moment, grinning wildly and rather secretly to herself, as if she had something ludicrous to hide. "Oh, but it's not so! Ghosts can do any number of things in the real world, given that there's someone with the cursed blood running through their veins." She gave one little laugh---a giggle almost---with her hand pressed to her mouth to muffle it before continuing. "Even if they dislike vampires, you see, they love that they the power required to help make them material. And when they do gather the material of our world to themselves and form semi-solid bodies, they can move things and throw them at you and, if they're strong enough, convince you they're real for long moments at a time."

He shrugged. "Cyrus thought himself strong enough to vanquish any problems that should arise from them. And--she did not seem likely to cause any problems on her own." A crooked smile. "Cyrus said that she deserved to die--because she was weak. Because she lacked ambition."  

[XCandy and LunacyX]

"Some people---" she began softly, thoughtfully, "---can be so ridiculous. Weakness and lack of ambition don't make decent reasons for death." The thought occurred mildly to her that from what she heard she didn't like Vikteren's maker and she made no attempt to hide it. "I don't think that I like the philosophy of any vampire I know. Khayman believes that no one---good or bad alike---deserves to be wasted at the touch of his kind. Persephone says glamour and artistry must be preserved and everything else should be thrown away to keep from tarnishing these things. Sleet merely wants vampires, or more precisely his own coven, to be the kings of eternity and play their sick, demented games without consequence." There was more she meant to say, but nonetheless Antha quieted herself here as if ashamed suddenly. "My uncle Louis once told me that things were simpler and infinitely more magnificent when he was young. He said that one hundred years ago there was a beauty to 'blood children' and the way they kept themselves alive. He told me that to watch a vampire feed was like to read poetry." She gave a short laugh and a quick shake of her head before continuing. "I never understood. I only knew that the old man was morbid and only truly loved the occult and that which was forbidden. It was Sleet that got annoyed with me and decided to show me exactly what he meant, though the monster didn't make for a good teacher."

 

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

"Some people---" she began softly, thoughtfully, "---can be so ridiculous. Weakness and lack of ambition don't make decent reasons for death." The thought occurred mildly to her that from what she heard she didn't like Vikteren's maker and she made no attempt to hide it. "I don't think that I like the philosophy of any vampire I know. Khayman believes that no one---good or bad alike---deserves to be wasted at the touch of his kind. Persephone says glamour and artistry must be preserved and everything else should be thrown away to keep from tarnishing these things. Sleet merely wants vampires, or more precisely his own coven, to be the kings of eternity and play their sick, demented games without consequence." There was more she meant to say, but nonetheless Antha quieted herself here as if ashamed suddenly. "My uncle Louis once told me that things were simpler and infinitely more magnificent when he was young. He said that one hundred years ago there was a beauty to 'blood children' and the way they kept themselves alive. He told me that to watch a vampire feed was like to read poetry." She gave a short laugh and a quick shake of her head before continuing. "I never understood. I only knew that the old man was morbid and only truly loved the occult and that which was forbidden. It was Sleet that got annoyed with me and decided to show me exactly what he meant, though the monster didn't make for a good teacher."

He lowered his eyes. "My kind have never been moral creatures. We're--predators, nothing else. Or at least, nothing else of value. Our philosophies are pretty illusions. My sire taught that humans were prey, nothing more, nothing less--and that they should be treated as prey. The good hunter does not pity the doe he kills. But animals are different. Animals will accept death. Humans have hope. They will struggle endlessly." He looked up. "I would have liked to meet your uncle. He sounds like a romantic."  

[XCandy and LunacyX]

"Oh yes, that he most surely was. And in the end, I think he was quite right." She gave a soft, almost satisfied sigh and looked dreamily off into space. "Back when I was little, the oldest of the family were all so...exquisite. I loved it when they would dress up in their old clothing and dance together in the parlor of Mayfair Manor to uncle Louis's victrola." She did her best to recall that distant memory at this point, of the children forms of her, Malakai, Nicolae, Dorian, and the toddler Eleanor huddled together at the top of the stairs well after midnight, peering over and under the railing at the old ones. "He gave me that victrola right before he died. I carried it back here and stashed it under the floorboards of the attic to hide it from my destructive aunt Bianca. It's sitting in the parlor nowadays though." As she sat thinking of her younger years, the happier times between the two darker periods of her life, Antha realized suddenly that she knew next to nothing about Vikteren. "If you don't mind my asking, where did you grow up?" Ideally, she would have asked what brought on his transformation. However, she knew all too well that this could be a painful subject and so left it alone.

 

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

"Oh yes, that he most surely was." She gave a soft, almost satisfied sigh and looked dreamily off into space. "Back when I was little, the oldest of the family were all so...exquisite. I loved it when they would dress up in their old clothing and dance together in the parlor of Mayfair Manor to uncle Louis's victrola." She did her best to recall that distant memory at this point, of the children forms of her, Malakai, Nicolae, Dorian, and the toddler Eleanor huddled together at the top of the stairs well after midnight, peering over and under the railing at the old ones. "He gave me that victrola right before he died. I carried it right back here and stashed it under the floorboards of the attic to hide it from my destructive aunt Bianca. It's sitting in the parlor nowadays though." As she sat thinking of her younger years, the happier times between the two dark periods of her life, Antha realized suddenly that she knew next to nothing about Vikteren. "If you don't mind my asking, where did you grow up?" Ideally, she would have asked what brought on his transformation. However, she knew all too well that this could be a painful subject and so left it alone.

He didn't seem much surprised by the question; on the contrary, he didn't seem to mind at all. "Until I was six, I lived with my mother at Court. She loved it there; she loved the people. My mother could never bear to be alone. Father, of course, hated it...but he loved my mother, and bore all the frivolities for her sake." Vikteren's reminescent smile faded. "After she died, of course...there wasn't any reason for us to stay. And my father did not wish to be surrounded with constant reminders of her--such had been the manner of her death and it's circumstances. We returned to the family estates, then. My sister and I were not...neglected, but we had too much of our mother in our faces, and my father shunned anything that so much as alluded to her presence in his life. Thus, we were left to our own devices."  

[XCandy and LunacyX]

Antha stood still, listening quietly. "Adults can be so utterly cruel at times," she said softly, "I don't quite like them." She gave a vague shake of her head, her hair following the movements. There was another silent moment, Antha considering her words before she spoke again. "So how did your transformation come about then? From your previous words I doubt you would have gone to seek out such a fate."

 

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

Antha stood still, listening quietly. "Adults can be so utterly cruel at times," she said softly, "I don't quite like them." She gave a vague shake of her head, her hair following the movements. There was another silent moment, Antha considering her words before she spoke again. "So how did your transformation come about then? From your previous words I doubt you would have gone to seek out such a fate."

"My turning? No, it was not voluntarily chosen." He fell silent for a few moments, choosing his words carefully. "When I was nineteen, in the year of 1584, Cyrus took it upon himself to annihilate my family. I do not know why he chose to do so; I never asked him. It was fitting, perhaps, that he chose to make me reborn on the very day that I had begun my life as a human--but perhaps it was merely strategy. It was a masquerade ball, and no one noticed the extra guests until it was too late." He fixed his gaze on Antha, their eyes locking together with almost an audible click. "I saw my sister die. They fed upon her for no reason other than she was there, she was young, and she was beautiful. And Cyrus took me. I thought I would die that night, and I would have been happy for it." And his voice took on an odd quality, as if he couldn't quite believe it himself. "But I didn't die. Cyrus became my sire--my Maker, as it has been called--and I..." He hesitated, then continued, his voice low. She had asked. He wouldn't hold it back. "I belonged to him in the most abject and utter interpretation of the word. He was my teacher, my protector, my tormentor, my lover, my master...I loved and hated him with equal fervor. I would have died for him, and I would have betrayed for him if I was ever given the chance. And when I was no longer a fledgling, he...released me." Vikteren stopped again, considering his words, then shook his head. "No. Not release. He has merely allowed me to run on a longer chain. I do not think I will ever be truly free of him--just as you may never be truly free from your Mayfair legacy, should you hide until the end of your days." Only then did Vikteren lower his eyes. "My little tragedy. Judge it as you will."  

[XCandy and LunacyX]

Despite a certain coldness she had forced upon herself for just such occasions, Antha couldn't help but be upset by his story. "It's sick," she said softly, "Khayman says people have to experience some great tragedy to experience true happiness. But something like that...it's wrong." She gave a very quick nod as if to agree with her own words before continuing. "Say what he might, he never lost anything so what does he---" She stopped abruptly here, listening to the telephone's shrill cries as they echoed throughout the house. "If you'll excuse me for one moment." Quietly she padded from the library and down the the first floor parlor, the room directly to the right from the stairs. Picking up the antique thing, she wasn't surprised to hear her uncle's voice ring out mid-sentence before she even put it to her ear.
The conversation was what Antha might call uniform; he scolded her for her recklessness, she ignored every word he uttered until it was quiet enough to tell him she had retrieved the book, and finally it fell to a stupefied silence on his part. "Oh, and oncle Julien," she began sweetly, turning a bit as if there were someone she wanted privacy from, "Whenever you talk to Lawrence, please inform him that I need a word with him." Finished at last, she pressed the phone back on it's little hook and reached into her pocket for the folded piece of paper she was so paranoid over. "Too much trouble for such a useless little thing..." she sighed as she returned it and began back up the stairs and into the library. "I apologize. I completely forgot Claire saw me go into the crypt."

 

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

Despite a certain coldness she had forced upon herself for just such occasions, Antha couldn't help but be upset by his story. "It's sick," she said softly, "Khayman says people have to experience some great tragedy to experience true happiness. But something like that...it's wrong." She gave a very quick nod as if to agree with her own words before continuing. "Say what he might, he never lost anything so what does he---" She stopped abruptly here, listening to the telephone's shrill cries as they echoed throughout the house. "If you'll excuse me for one moment." Quietly she padded from the library and down the the first floor parlor, the room directly to the right from the stairs. Picking up the antique thing, she wasn't surprised to hear her uncle's voice ring out mid-sentence before she even put it to her ear.
The conversation was what Antha might call uniform; he scolded her for her recklessness, she ignored every word he uttered until it was quiet enough to tell him she had retrieved the book, and finally it fell to a stupefied silence on his part. "Oh, and oncle Julien," she began sweetly, turning a bit as if there were someone she wanted privacy from, "Whenever you talk to Lawrence, please inform him that I need a word with him." Finished at last, she pressed the phone back on it's little hook and reached into her pocket for the folded piece of paper she was so paranoid over. "Too much trouble for such a useless little thing..." she sighed as she returned it and began back up the stairs and into the library. "I apologize. I completely forgot Claire saw me go into the crypt."

"There's no need to apologize," he said, half-turning to face her. "Your family worries about you." Then, abruptly, "Who is Lawrence?--Forgive me, I believe I...inadvertly eavesdropped on you." Then, with what could almost be mistaken for a mischevious glint in his eye, he added, "And I made you suffer through a demonstration of my horrible story-telling, so here's a chance for your revenge."  

[XCandy and LunacyX]

She gave a small smile back, reminding herself to tell him only the basics. "Revenge? No, it's not exactly fit for that," she said with a soft laugh, "Lawrence is one of my cousins. He works at Mayfair and Mayfair law firm under his father Barclay, my mother's older brother." She smiled to herself, thinking how odd it was to call someone uncle and it actually hold completely true. "Lawrence is a bit older than the rest of our generation of Mayfairs, so he tends to take care of us. But honestly, he's just miserable. I keep trying to persuade him to come work for me at Mayfair Medical once it's finished, but he would never disappoint his father like that." She nodded as if in agreement with herself and carelessly dropped into an old armchair by the window once finished.

 

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

She gave a small smile back, reminding herself to tell him only the basics. "Revenge? No, it's not exactly fit for that," she said with a soft laugh, "Lawrence is one of my cousins. He works at Mayfair and Mayfair law firm under his father Barclay, my mother's older brother." She smiled to herself, thinking how odd it was to call someone uncle and it actually hold completely true. "Lawrence is a bit older than the rest of our generation of Mayfairs, so he tends to take care of us. But honestly, he's just miserable. I keep trying to persuade him to come work for me at Mayfair Medical once it's finished, but he would never disappoint his father like that." She nodded as if in agreement with herself and carelessly dropped into an old armchair by the window once finished.

He nodded thoughtfully, the asked abruptly. "I must seem far too prying, but I would know--you spoke of adults as though you disapproved of them as a whole. Yet you obviously care for your cousin, to concern yourself over his happiness, and as he is older than you--and you are very nearly grown--would that not place him neatly in this category of adulthood?"  

[XCandy and LunacyX]

She scowled subtly, her eyes going very quickly sharp. Quite obviously he had hit upon something which Antha simply didn't like. "I suppose," she said distastefully, "It is inevitable." Sighing softly, she turned her gaze on the frozen windowpanes. "But it's not as if he likes adults either, regardless of whether or not he is one. None of us do." For a moment she seemed pained, angry even. Then, gathering herself again, she quickly let the entire subject go. "Being an adult---it's a state of mind." She gave a vague shake of her head, her hair battering her face with the movements. "But let's not speak of such things. It's something of a taboo subject within the Mayfair domain."

 

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

She scowled subtly, her eyes going very quickly sharp. Quite obviously he had hit upon something which Antha simply didn't like. "I suppose," she said distastefully, "It is inevitable." Sighing softly, she turned her gaze on the frozen windowpanes. "But it's not as if he likes adults either, regardless of whether or not he is one. None of us do." For a moment she seemed pained, angry even. Then, gathering herself again, she quickly let the entire subject go. "Being an adult---it's a state of mind." She gave a vague shake of her head, her hair battering her face with the movements. "But let's not speak of such things. It's something of a taboo subject within the Mayfair domain."

An instinctive voice inside him immediately asked why?, but he quieted it immediately. "The Mayfairs do seem very self-reliant," he commented. "You've begun a hospital, a law agency, god-knows-what-else...but everything seems intended to keep your family--what is a proper word?--contained. That your lineage would not spill over into the outside world." He pressed a hand against his temple, barriers flaring up around his thoughts--as if he didn't want her to see inside them. "For what reason?" he continued, voice a shade quieter than before.  

[XCandy and LunacyX]

She watched him for several moments, almost suspicious, but quickly lost interest. "Witch genes are rather hard to come by and even harder to cultivate. To continue the bloodline as we would have it, outsiders cannot be permitted. On the rare occasion that someone does join our family they're very carefully chosen. Should this system be broken, the genes would be diluted every generation and finally there would be no more of the Mayfair witches." She smiled vaguely to herself, pressing her finger softly to her lips as if to quiet herself while she thought. "And then there's the curse. Did you know that almost every man who's dared to marry a Mayfair woman has suffered a great tragedy, after which they were permanently ruined. Most of them just die within a few years."

 

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

She watched him for several moments, almost suspicious, but quickly lost interest. "Witch genes are rather hard to come by and even harder to cultivate. To continue the bloodline as we would have it, outsiders cannot be permitted. On the rare occasion that someone does join our family they're very carefully chosen. Should this system be broken, the genes would be diluted every generation and finally there would be no more of the Mayfair witches." She smiled vaguely to herself, pressing her finger softly to her lips as if to quiet herself while she thought. "And then there's the curse. Did you know that almost every man who's dared to marry a Mayfair woman has suffered a great tragedy, after which they were permanently ruined. Most of them just die within a few years."

The vampire moved to her side, searching her features. “But surely there are those who will take the risk?” he said—not quite a question, but more of a estimation awaiting to be confirmed. “Love will always be a tempting drug; an opiate to soften the harshest of consequences. And, my apologies, but I do not think even the great Mayfair witches might always resist it.” His voice was low, and empty of any emotion other than curiousity, but a trace of his old accent crept in, consonants sharp and quick. “And surely no mere mortal.” His eyes fell upon her, as cold as the emeralds whose hue they so resembled. “Has not Princess Mayfair ever known love? You speak so coolly of it.”