Red Rose For The Devil's Bride

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Gaius, Jul 22, 2015.

  1. For Monroe, the hours seemed to meld endlessly together, with days spent brooding over the potential of love lost, and nights spent pacing the halls of his estate. Then again, that was the price one paid when one was a Valkirette. For generations the Valkirette family had been known as the progenitors of horror and suffering amongst the people of the village, and Monroe seemed to be no different. He loved nothing more than to instill fear and horror in the minds of the people and bring nightmares upon the children. It was as Machiavelli himself said, "It is better to be feared than loved." and the Valkirette's held true to that, forcing the people to pay with taxes and tributes through sheer force of terror.

    However, one can not always be a cruel and unforgiving harbinger of pain. For even the most hardened and calloused of men have a soft spot in their heart for love, and Monroe was no different. He needed a Lady, one who could rule beside him, stand beside him as his fallen angel, who by day struck fear into the hearts of many, and by night, laid down with him in the gentle ensnarement of love.
  2. The evening air was cooler than usual. An overcast of thick gray clouds had colored the sky with no threat of rain. Only a shadow that would be cast over the large village. This day favored her arrival well. Lunaria had become quite the object of local folklore lately, word of her having spread far and wide. This village was no exception. People spoke of the girl as if she were not mortal. Ironically, Lunaria herself did not consider herself mortal. Although the reason to why she was an object of folklore was easily realized upon encounter. Rumors spoke of the girl with ethereal beauty- a woman of few words and impeccable modesty. In truth, Lunaria was a noble woman from Romania. Her father, Lord Valeriu, had sent her off in hopes that she would meet a worthy suitor. She came from a powerful family. One of steady wealth and vast influence. Though Lord Valeriu wished to spread his influence as far as possible. And marriage would be the ideal way of obtaining it.

    Villagers were gathered around the courtyard to watch the renowned noble arrive. And of course, plenty of the Lord's own servants were there as well. Lunaria seemed to slip out from the distance, accompanied by her father. The two seemed to appear from thin air and into the fog that was drifting about. All the servants stared at the noblewoman, unsure if to fear her or just think her strange. The girl had many legends and tales of her being far more twisted than any other girl. She was said to even be of Satan, or some sort of sorceress. But just as she was dark, she was captivating. Every step she took was graceful and effortless. Her long black hair set in loose waves cascaded down her back. It was unnerving. The comparison between her father's hair, and her own. It was the deepest black, unlike the silver her father wore. Her skin was pale, smooth like porcelain. And her eyes were a light blue resembling the very dead of winter. Her waist was small, creating an hourglass with her well endowed bustline. The dress she wore was just as black as her hair, and had a haunting look. Her face was completely expressionless as she gazed at Monroe. "My daughter." Valeriu said, gesturing to her. The girl simply curtsied, but never said a word.

    Valeriu was an impatient man. And when sending messages of such high importance, he figured the job is best done when done by himself. His snow white hair blew behind him in the breeze. His eyes were a piercing icy blue, that were ever so radiant despite his pale skin. They struck fear into the hearts of many, for one stare felt like cold blood. And so his gaze fell on the prominent Lord. "I am Lord Valeriu Drakul of Brasov." His voice echoed throughout the courtyard. It was powerful, but subtle. Able to send chills down anyone's spine. "I've found your village to be particularly convenient. It is close to the Royal Castle, and is a prosperous village." He said. "You are a man of title, and you own many lands. I have come to make you an offer. Allow my daughter to stay at the estate, and seek out a worthy suitor. If you accept, I will gladly supply funds for your hospitality." As mentioned, Valeriu was impatient and would not await an answer. He would leave, knowing he may have left his daughter to fend for herself if the offer were to be declined. "I shall take my leave. Do what you will." He announced, turning swiftly and disappearing back towards the front gates. With that, the audience of villagers were left in a bustle of gossip. Lunaria merely gazed up at Monroe, still remaining silent. It was not that she was a shy girl. But she was well-mannered, and would not speak unless spoken to. Obviously her lack of bold speech had contributed to the mysterious aura rumors had created for her.
  3. Monroe bowed as the Lord walked away, keeping his pose until he was out of view. "Madame" he said politely as he straightened back out. "Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Lord Monroe Valkirette. Your father humbles me by his request for me to allow you to stay at my estate. It would be a pleasure and an honor to have you grace my halls." His dark eyes now scanned her up and down, extremely pleased with what he saw. She was a thing of pure beauty, as though she were chiseled from heaven's own marble by God himself! Surely she must be an angel sent by Him!
    Not letting his exultation get the better of him, he motioned for her to follow him. "Come, Come Madame. Lets us not dally around here longer than we must. Prosperous though the village may be, it is not a place for someone as high as yourself." At that, he offered her his arm as he began to make his way back to the manor, a large, sprawling Gothic estate that Monroe was quite fond of.
  4. The girl noticed that there were many eyes on her, but she was not one to care for attention, so she paid no mind. Her own eyes were fixed on the Lord for only a mere second. From what she saw. He was rather muscular and tall, and she particularly paid notice to the eyes that seemed to be analyzing her. Whether he was attractive to her or not was unknown. Lunaria was very difficult to read, and had peculiar tastes. The Lord offered his arm to her, escorting her inside the manor. She was silent for a moment after he introduced himself, and did not speak until they reached the inside of the estate. "I am Lunaria Anastasia Drakul. It is lovely to make your acquaintance." Her voice was far different from any other female in the land. It was so smooth and enchanting, with just a hint of seduction. It was not squeaky, or annoying. It was incredibly attractive, and alluring. Her very voice could ensnare even the most difficult men. Just by speaking her voice sounded as if she was singing a beautifully dark tune. She said nothing else and stood there patiently, comfortable in the silence. Perhaps it was her reserved conduct that made her voice appealing, as it was rarely heard. Or maybe it was simply because she really was inhuman. Just by looking at her, it would seem as if she'd disappear the moment she was left unwatched. Some people thought she was genuinely made of porcelain, as a doll. What nonsense the commoners would come up with.
  5. "Ah, igualmente, as the Castillian's would say." Monroe stated with a smile. By God her voice was divine. She could probably out sing an angel in the choir. "Lunaria Anastasia, what a beautiful name, fitting for an equally beautiful woman!" he said, bowing once more.
    Perhaps, if he played his cards right, Monroe could win this woman for himself. She was beautiful and enchanting, and he could already feel himself falling for her. But alas, how could someone like her love a brutal man like him? Surely word of his reputation amongst the villagers had reached her ears, and there was no way she would want him if she knew. However, he knew he couldn't just take her, as her father seemed like a powerful man with many allies and a vast army. A conflict between the two could spell disaster for both of them, and Monroe knew that must be avoided. Blast it, now was not the time for such thoughts. Now was the time for him and Lunaria to get to know each other.

    "Please, do feel free to make yourself at home, Lunaria. Should you need anything, my servants and myself will be at your beck and call!" Of course, she probably already expected that, being as high born as he was.
  6. The Lord was very welcoming. He was very upbeat, and a little too catering. His jubilant attitude was beginning to bore her. And yet she found him to be strangely intriguing. He had this air about him, like there was something that she did not know. Lunaria was normally not one to interact with people like him. She did not like being around people that were so lively and high-spirited. "You may address me as Lunaria. I am grateful for your kind hospitality my lord." She replied. "Would you escort me to my chambers? I would like to know where I am staying." It was obvious that she was not going to be striking up a conversation any time soon. Although the Lord was an attractive man, she did not favor is unnerving behavior. Once shown the way, Lunaria entered her chambers, finding that it was rather close to Lord Monroe’s chambers. The room was much too bright for her tastes. “Make the curtains black, and the bedding red.” She said softly to a nearby servant. “That is, if it isn’t much trouble, take your time." The girl was very kind in reality, but that only depended on her mood. It was what made her so terrifying to people, that she had a split personality.
  7. Nodding and bowing in obediance, the servant let out a quick "As you wish" and walked off to fetch what she required. Monroe, on the other hand, glanced around with growing anxiousness. "Ahem, I hate to be so hasty, Lunaria, but I must be going. For now, should you need anything, the servants will be more than glad to assist you. I have somewhere I need to be, and time waits for no one." At that, he bowed and walked away, letting out a breath. In reality, he was going down to the village. Word had reached him that a rebellion was rising, and he was going down to crush it immediately. He walked back to his own chamber, grabbed a sword, and walked out, impatient and angered expression on his face. For those who will attempt to overthrow him, their efforts will be met with a swift and righteous blow.
  8. Lunaria's interest was now piqued. Where was the Lord off too so hastily? She took her view by her bedroom chamber window, awaiting the moment he would return. She could not see all the way into the village. However she could wait for his arrival to observe his condition. The most amusing part to her, was when he left. And not empty handed, but armed with a weapon. "How peculiar..." She mumbled, leaning against the window pane. It made her wonder what he was off to do. Take out a rival? Seek out an assassin? Maybe he was attending a business deal? Or perhaps...he planned to deal with the villagers themselves. Behind Lunaria, the servants were re-dressing her room with the color scheme she had requested. They were fine fabrics, certainly of the utmost quality. They bustled behind her but she paid no mind, keeping her eyes on the setting sun. It would be dusk, soon. And soon, the Lord would return.
  9. Down in the village, women moved to the side, children sought refuge behind crates and barrels, and men sought shelter indoors. They did whatever they could to just get the hell out of Monroe's way. "Who the Bloody Hell is responsible for attempting to organize this pathetic little rebellion!" He demanded as he kicked in the door of one of the taverns, one he knew harbored those of a more rebellious temperament. At first, the frightful drunkards and bar denizens remained silent, but soon, gazes turned towards a door which must've led to a back room. Monroe knew that was where he needed to go, and he wasted no time in doing so. Just as he had done to the last one, he kicked this door in, splinters flying across the room. Inside were about five men, all gathered around a small wooden table. "You bloody rat bastards!" He yelled as he drew his sword. The men all hopped up in fear, and they knew there was no way they could hide their doings, for there were maps and charts strewn across the table. Monroe wasted no time in dispatching all of them, their blood soaking the walls, floor, and his clothing.

    Storming back into his manor, he immediately slowed down upon entry, and a servant took his sword and put it back in his chambers. Meanwhile, Monroe had stepped into Lunaria's chamber, bowing upon entry. "So sorry for the delay, but some little vermin had to be taught a lesson."
  10. Lunaria gazed at the Lord with interest, looking over his unkempt appearance. "You're very messy." She noted, referring to the bloodstains that covered his clothing. She did not speak for a few moments, turning away from him. So he had gone to kill opposition. Rebels, no doubt. She took careful steps towards her bed, dragging her fingertips along the new satin sheets. "Do you know why I like my bedding to be red?" She inquired, her icy blue eyes glancing at him. "They serve well against blood stains." She stated softly. "It was foolish of you to kill them." She said, turning back around towards Monroe. This was the most she had ever spoken to him. "Do you know if they had other comrades? Did you obtain all of their plans?" A sigh fell from her lips. "That is why you were messy. Murder is an art. One that you practice poorly." Her voice was calm, serene, and just as sultry as any time she spoke. But her calmness was eccentric, as she had been talking about bloodshed as if it was merely small talk.
  11. Monroe wanted to be pissed off at her for speaking against him, but her voice was too damn hypnotic for any anger to rise. Instead, he simply folded his hands behind his back and took a step forward. "If murder is an art, than I am a drunken artist, stumbling the streets, attempting to sell his paintings to anyone who walk by. I do not operate on beauty, I operate on fear and terror." He walked even closer to her, eyes following her every move. "However, should you wish for my art to become refined, perhaps you should accompany me on my next little trip." Monroe began to pace the room. "Do you know what they called me when I was a soldier in my father's army?" His dark, cold eyes locked onto her, keeping still as he continued to pace. "They called me the Hound. And why did they call me that? Because I mercilessly pursued my quarry and rip them to shreds. I am not a man of subtlety. If I wished for information, I have men to collect it for me."
  12. When Lunaria looked at him, she seemed to peer directly into his very soul. "Perhaps...." She echoed, advancing toward him. She was close enough so that their bodies barely brushed against one another. She could hear his breath from this distance. "Hound you say? Do you wish to be a dog?" She raised an eyebrow. "I see nothing but a puppy." She murmured, pulling back slightly. "I shall accompany you. And I will show you the beauty in death." Reaching up, her index finger lightly touched his cheek tracing downward. "Or perhaps... you would like to find out yourself?" She purred, peeking up at him from under her thick black eyelashes. "You intrigue me. Would you care to take a stroll in the gardens?" She suggested. Lunaria was not easily kept interested, but Lord Monroe was doing a fine job. His hot temper almost made her want to laugh. Lunaria gently grasped his arm. "Shall we?" Her delicate fingers coiled around his arm, and her body was leaning into his side just slightly.
  13. "We shall, Madame." Monroe said resolutely as he rested a hand on her fingers. Still covered in blood, he walked out of her bed chamber, out into the hall, and then out into the garden. For a man who loved to watch vermin die, his garden was a veritable sanctuary for flora, with countless rose bushes, lilies, and other flowers gracing this stretch of verdant fertility. "You intrigue me Lunaria." he said suddenly as they walked out onto the stone pathway. "You speak of death as though you are the very bride of the reaper himself, but you move and speak with the grace of the wind, coming and going as you please. I find it... utterly intoxicating." Monroe took in a deep breath and let it out, now thinking over the fact that she didn't seemed phased at all by him being covered in blood. "They say blood is the currency of the soul, the vehicle of life, and that blood is the medium by which life can be transferred. If that is true, then I am the wealthiest man in the land."
  14. The touch of his hand felt foreign. It was strange to her, and she did not understand why he'd do anything to surpass formalities. She was not expecting Monroe to say such things. And in the middle of a garden, wind rustling the rose bushes, she could not find her composure. Her cheeks were flushed, a light pink dusted over her pale cheeks. She took a deep breath, exhaling softly. "Are you attempting to court me, Lord Monroe?" She teased him, her eyes fixated on the moonlit sky. Surprise was an emotion she was not very familiar with, and rarely got to experience. But Monroe was surely inducing it quite a bit. It was strange feeling vulnerable to this man. What was it about him that caused her to react this way. Perhaps it was how he did not render her an oddity, or run screaming for the hills either. Instead he had stated he found her interesting, and intoxicating.
  15. "Lunaria, I very well could be. It is a rare occasion indeed that I find a woman of the same hellish breed as I. You are a Drakul, and I am a Valkirette. I admittedly know little of your bloodline, but mine is flooded with murder, horror, suffering, and torment. You see, a Valkirette is not a Valkirette at all if he does note revel in battle, thrive in conflict, or find comfort in the screams of slaughtered enemies. However, if every soldier were like a Valkierette, then history would be filled with constant war and bloodshed." He fell silent for a moment and shrugged. "Maybe it is for the best, after all, there still need to be people on this earth, don't you think? A planet with nothing but dead people is hardly a planet at all." Monroe let out a laugh. "What an affront to God we are!"
  16. Her eyes went wide as she soon came to realize he was in fact serious. "I see..." She mumbled to herself, slowly averting her gaze to Monroe. "I disagree." She stated, finally regaining her composure. "Mortals are foolish. Every life is just as worthy as another. There are other species on this earth besides humans. And truthfully, the world would be a better without the human race- including myself. Nature itself is a beautiful and lively thing. We are privileged to live on this earth and be able to experience it. Humans have no purpose. Nothing would happen if everyone died.... Do you honestly believe God is a man looking down upon us from the sky?" She gave a light squeeze to his arm. "I hardly believe the world revolves around one needless race, whose lives are lived only once before being thrown into judgement. We are all living, breathing creatures that persist to find purpose that does not exist. That is why...we are such a lovely planet."
  17. "And there is where I will have to disagree with you. For you see, our purpose is to find purpose, and while that intangible goal lies in the minds of the wisest men, the rest of the world waits with bated breath. While you take the nihilistic route, I prefer to weave between paths, ever searching for one that suites me. Now, as far as God is concerned..." he let out a snort "...To hell with God. We have been cast out from the light of God. Besides, were there truly a God, an all knowing, ever benevolent loving All Father, then he would refuse to let creatures such as myself exist. So I say it again, to Hell with God!" He gave her hand a soft pat, looking over at her momentarily. "It's true that we only get one shot at life, that is why we need to make the most of it. Eat, Drink, Fuck. Live the life that will forever live in infamy!" He let out another cackle. "And when our time is done and we return to dust, the flora and fauna will remain. They will do what they can to bring the Earth back to the way it should be. Before we came along to tear it all to pieces. However, until that time comes, we must do what we can to bring the word of the scorched earth erotica to the very soil we walk upon. Ah yes, sins befell of heaven now befoul from the bowels of Hell."
  18. Lunaria smiled softly, amused at his thoughts. "I do not believe that... I do not believe I have only lived once. My soul has lived for thousands of years. And in that sense, I believe that I am eternal. I do not believe any creature shal just perish and leave nothing behind." She smiled up at him. "But I do believe living however makes one happy." Biting her lower lip, she added. "And it seems you really fancy intimacy." He spoke an awful lot about it. She did not mind it, though. She enjoyed listening to him speak. She was growing fond of his high spirits. His sould was like a raging fire, swallowing everything that crossed its path. It was funny. At first she had seen a foolish man without any willpower or bite. Yet she could not have been any farther from the truth. He was fierce, and ambitious. And most of all- he could make her smile. Which was a most rare sight to behold.
  19. Monroe gave a half shrug. "Perhaps I do fancy it. After all, a man can't be all cruel. There is always the spot in his heart that can be filled by love, small though it may sometimes be." As he said that, a sigh escaped his lips. "If what you say is true, do you think that there are perhaps there are other souls who have been around for eternity? What's to say we aren't all just measly corporeal vessels that serve the soul until we whither. When that time comes, does our soul just float on until it finds another one? Maybe that is our purpose, to serve the soul until we no longer can, then send it off with a fond adieu." He looked up at the moon, a smile playing across his lips as he gazed upon the silver rays bolting out from that odd little orb in the sky.
  20. Lunaria giggled softly at the idea that Monroe presented. "No. If that were true, then people would not be able to live without a soul." She mumbled. "May I ask you a question?" She whispered, peeking up at him. She was curious about something, and she felt embarrassed to ask such a question- but maybe Monroe would not mind. "What is it like to be intimate with someone?" She had no experience at all in that department. It made her curious as to why he talked about it so much before. Lunaria released her hold on his arm and pulled away. "I apologize. It was rude of me to inquire such a thing." She should not dabble in his personal life. It was impolite of her. Especially after allowing her to stay at his estate. It was a beautiful place. The wild gardens and gothic aesthetic was very appealing to her.