Topic: Dark Lore

Seirian Caradoc

Date: 2009-09-12 06:53 EST
*OOC Note: Some Mature Themes may present themselves in the thread. 18+*

The woman reposed across from the younger girl, languid as a queen upon her throne. Dusk born depths rested, considering across from her this girl that had just known the touch of womanhood and probably had yet to find the exquisite bliss of the loss of maidenhood.

A subtle arch of brow as black as crow's wing at the ceaseless sobbing. Exhaling a sigh a hand reached out, offering a bit of cloth to help the girl wipe her face. Disgrace and disgust briefly would marr the dusk born beauty's expression as the pale girl blew her nose.

In these days where some would hide their certain 'gifts' or hide away all together, Seirian ever was bold and brazen. A twilight saturated beacon of darkness and sin. This was ever her way. She knew far well that love crossed all boundaries. Faced all risks.

The notion left Seirian scowling. Rude sound of disgust and annoyance stifled as she waited patiently for the girl to gather herself. Yes, the girl had taken a risk coming to Seirian in times as these to ask for one of Seirian's love charms or potions. Let the pale girl hang, Seirian cared nothing for it.

Love was a frail thing. Lust and Sin, Passion and Desire ever the constant. Seirian had watched far too many happy marriages fall a part, too many hearts to become broken to believe in the strength and longevity of that feeling the world groped and waited for.

"Please, Lady Caradoc, I beg of you....I must get him back." "Why would you want someone to return to you that left you before?"

Dusk born depths, eyes that were a deception of colors. Sometimes midnight blue, night soaked black, even twilight twisted amethyst. These eyes watched, resting level on the pale girl in her lack of comprehension.

"Because....well....we love each other."

Her lips pressed, languid repose becoming a stiffened lean back in her chair. Forsaken words.

Seirian was a woman dressed in black lace, coated in magic as if she would wear it as a perfume, her voice a black velvet seduction when she spoke those final words that would rid the pale girl from her sight.

"Very well. On the night of the full moon when he sleeps brush this to his lips, his eye lids, his heart, and groin."

Trying not to sigh when she saw the pale girl flush a rose shade at her cheeks with her final words, Seirian passed the ointment across to the girl.

"Make sure you are the first thing he sees. Would not want him falling in love with your livestock."

A smile shivered along her lips, waking up a spark of moonshine in her eyes. Silvered light slivering the darkness.

The grateful hug of the pale girl's arms around her was dismissed with a light pat at the girl's back when all Seirian wanted to do was push her aside.

A whisper when the girl was gone. "Foolish girl." Seirian secretly would wish that when this woman's undying love awakened from that touch of love salve that he'd find her sister first. Oh wouldn't that be a twist.

Smile as dark as a forbidden secret she relaxed back in her chair within the confines of that shop tucked away at the corner of the marketplace.

Knowing well the secrets of the night were whispering again to the lonely, longing hearts....and Seirian would fulfill their wishes with her destiny born charms.

Seirian Caradoc

Date: 2009-09-12 11:32 EST
A return. Seirian had not been hiding instead given to wanderlust as the wax and the wane of the moon she would move and change. She was the night, the darkness, the shadows in constant motion.

To enter the Inn would mean to find civilization again rather then painted wild with tribal, runes scrawled on her flesh as tributes and worship totems.

Ever after the passing of years would this be something to adjust to. Still she fell easily into the pattern. Exchanging words with a handsome man who offered her the typical words. Looking for a woman. Searching for a long lost wife.

She didn't have the heart to tell Duncan that perhaps his wife left him and did not wish to be found, that perhaps he should give up hope. Some would speak that Seirian seemed to possess a heart, perhaps age had changed this.

Maiden. Mother. Crone. Clotho, Lachesis, Athropos. Of the Three she was the wisest, the most....experienced. Dark radiance, smoldering with twilight passion, catered to a nature that was born and bred of sin and lust.

The lives had threaded their weaving to make Seirian as constant as the moon itself. As the darkness. She was the Night breathed into life, made flesh.

Perhaps it was a moment of weakness that led her to help Duncan. She felt his wife did not deserve him. Still with a kiss and a bit of raw quartz for clarity she had shown him the way. Given him Sight.

Weakness. She frowned upon its revelation in her spirit. Especially when she decided to face civilization only to find after years past a far too familiar face.

Reginald.

His presence brought forth emotions long since forgotten. Buried and ignored.

Only to be resurfaced. Palms ensnared, fingers twisted in a casual unity. Touch was better then words. Emotions better then thought.

The Admiral had returned, and the Night did not know what to make of his return.

He would need better quarters, more suitable quarters then the swill and dirt of the local establishments. She had no choice but to provide him with a room at Dark Lore Castle.