the cumbling castle

[kaminoku]

the castle hasn't been graced with a another vibrant soul since it lord closed the door nearly 15 years ago. it has started to fall and crumble throughout the years the villagers surrounding the castle are too afraid to set foot inside to check the lord. fearing e's dead and has started haunting the halls throught the windindg halls and vast rooms of this empty place only the sound of a piano can be heard on this day.


lord oric: *sitting at the piano playing what should be a slow and mournful song at a frantic and feverish pace his face gaunt and skin pale as if he hasn't seen the sun in years the tips of his fingers and certain keys on the piano are stained with dry blood looking only at the keys he playing his clothing tattered stained. his eyes have sunken in from his seclusion. he barley reseambles a human anymore only a shell or shadow of his former self*

 

[Eolande]

The seemingly abandoned castle appealed to the wandering undead soul that approached it. Desdemona knew that the superstitious villagers avoided this place, which only made it even more appropriate.

The walk she had to make to reach here was quiet long, and Desdemona was eager to get inside the cool, dark corridors. She pushed the door open. It was reluctant to move, but with enough muscle Desdemona was able to pry it open. Empty black eye sockets peered eerily from a face that was pale with death. The short, spiked up hair on the top of her head contrasted this in a way that was startling. Tattered, moth eaten black rags covered the girls tall frame. She stood at roughly five feet, nine inches, which was tall for someone of feminine persuasion. Her features were stern and serious, though her face was once lovely to gaze at in life, one would be hard pressed to see it now. She cared little for her physical shell. It was only a means for her to react with the physical world around her.

Finally inside, Desdemona leaned against one of the crumbling walls. As she was resting and cooling down, she thought she heard the slightest strains of music from inside. Interest piqued, she continued down the corridor to investigate. In the stark silence, the sound of the music was loud, and enough to lead her through the confusing hallway until she saw the man, hunched over his piano, playing frantically.

"Such a tortured soul..." she said quietly, not wanting to startle him. "What ails you, this one wonders..." Pity for this creature coated her voice with sincerity.

 

[kaminoku]

stops playing but still continues the playins the same notes with his finger in the air and looks to her " a masterpeice never finished, a life thats was taken, and a home emptied.. pity me not for i am the one who started the flame that burn the pages and i am the one who closed the door. why have you come? is to hear the one who play an endless encore?...or are you here to torture me with your pressence" his finger go back to the keys and for a moment a hint of hope glints in his eyes "or are here to release me?"

 

[Eolande]

"Ah, but this one does pity you," Desdemona replied. "Whatever deed you have done, this is not deserved." The undead woman approached the man slowly. "Let this one see all that you have done... to be your judge and your jury..."

Desdemona came at a stop once she was right beside the piano playing man. Her hands, if not stopped, would go to the side of the mans face, where she held tight. "Close your eyes tight, unless you want this one to make you blind." With that warning, she pressed the thumbs into his eye sockets just enough to hurt.

"Now..." She nearly hissed, "Let this one see your memories..." Desdemona called upon her powers to make his thoughts appear like images in his mind. Two red orbs began to glow fiercely behind her own empty sockets as she concentrated. This was never perfect, sometimes the person was thinking of something else, and since the other person's mind would be so different, colors would be strange and so would speech. It took practice even to tell what was going on. It took a lot out of her to do this, too. Desdemona could never be a mind reader full time, nor would she want to be.

 

[kaminoku]

all that can be seen is various glimpses of him frantically wirting musical compositions and acts of violence towards anyone who interupted him friends,family,...and even his own wife and child. the rest seems to be blocked until a final vision of him standing at different doors his face lit like a fire was before him the expression on is face is of a somewhat stotic with hints of rage and borderline insanity "it is not complete....and it wil never be" he takes hold of her hand he is cold but for ramdom moment his hand rush with great warmth " the ultimate composition..one for all time"