Post by Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine on Feb 13, 2010 22:30:44 GMT -6
"No..please Sir. Not that way. My past waits for me there."
"I see only the world around us..in fear or in dreams,
nothing can hurt you now..."
"I see only the world around us..in fear or in dreams,
nothing can hurt you now..."
----=Through the Looking Glass=----
Jean-Claude of Aquitaine:
The bitter cold had come to break if only for the day and the promise of spring chased sullen sorrows of the winter winds away with the fresh new smell of the world melting under the sun. It was thrilling to be so long without a war, and the city lived in moments like this. Every street was filled with the presence of hope, and the will to survive pressed back the fading light of the day. Families gathered in taverns for dinner around tables where hands were held together in prayer, and the conversation was filled with the brighter tomorrows. This was one of the few times when all of his gathered goodwill and inner strength could not trump away a darker depression. He was not a sad man, or carry any sorry. Yet, it was the memory of yesterdays gone by that haunted a noble born. He had Ada, but even she was held at the edge of the rope too wild to tame, and he too old to try. She was his companion, her daughter his not by blood, or by oath; by promise. He would look after her, and a fortune awaited for her of a self made empire built from the ground up by hands that tapped into future ideas. Jean-Claude was a collector of the strange, a mind of ideas that would see his end, but the proof below the thick fabrics would be enough to savor his one last moment of defiance. Burned alive, he had all but died on that square, and had it not been for the pirate he would have left this world--unfinished. First born son Aquitaine, favorite grandson of Bordeaux he came from a fine vintage, but those 20 some years had left him without any reason to return. Somedays it all felt like a waste, that his life had been spent in constant failure, but in moments where ideas came to life--he knew. Something was beyond his reach, but soon cold hands would grasp it. Perhaps, if he could only find inspiration. The markets awaited, but he wished to be free of the town and started on the winding dirt road that led through the smaller portions of the city; his destination unclear, but part of the result was getting there was it not? (d
Anulia of Amora:
Having been in this country for so many years had done nothing to help ease the chill that dark flesh received when the night grow as cold as this one. Even huddled under the large purple, wool clock had not cut the chill from touching her skin. Or was it the chill of something more? Anulia's muscular legs were running quickly under the cover of skirts and cloak. Almost as if something were chasing her. Soft breaths inhaled and exhaled from her mouth as she moved faster and faster, quickly from the evil behind her. Byron had been unable to be at her side tonight and Amado did not know the city well enough to come and escort her. He had other duties he did to gain coin. Anulia could swear that a hand reached out and nearly grabbed the back of her coco skin colored neck. Like a living nightmare, she heard their foot steps, heard the sound of their heavy armor clinking together. She just had to be faster...and all would be well. Pausing after having turned down a path. The dirt was hard under her boots, making her nearly slide. The sound of a dog barked in the distance and Anulia could feel her heart trying to climb up her throat. Heavy shadows shifted, making her knuckles turn white as she held onto the cloak. No! Not this time! She made a hard left and ran. Ran so fast that when a new, dark shadow loomed in her way, there was no stopping. Her 5'4 frame went smacking and damaging itself. Gasp came from her mouth as she felt her legs tangled with the strangers. Quickly she pulled them back and rolled over to her rear. Eyes were wild with fear, while a full mouth parted slightly. No other sound would come out. This was it...fate had come to change her path again..
Jean-Claude of Aquitaine:
Are they not all ministering spirits sent out to serve for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation? Hebrews 1:14 She had come at him with enough force that the blow had come to no end. Right under the heavens she fell, but before he could hold her the world would pull them apart, and gravity would see the fallen star upon the ground. "Mon Dieu..qu'est-ce que c'est ?" Words could not find his lips in English for the French came first, but when her eyes found his there was a hidden sanctuary he could have easily misplaced. "Mon Cher..are you alright?" Dark almost black eyes the color of the night sky could be mistaken for the devils, as she raced from one into the arms of another. If the scientist had found the ground, he held a grace in a way that kept him up right. He may have been old, but there was some sort of youth left in him. "Forgive me..I." A gentleman took blame for everything, even if she so wished to beg for his mercy, or simply to be delivered from her fear. What had held her heart so that it beat against her chest like a wild African drum? He could not hear it, but the very vein at her neck could throb enough to fill her eyes with the sound. What beautiful eyes...Mesmerized, a silk gloved hand came to extend palm open and there inside was the promise he would see to it she was returned safely. Though from the shadows she ran had he been born? Hair as black as a raven, that fell around him in straight lines that were wild now from the fall, but as the wind took hold their was some reason to them once again. The night was falling on them, but the amber lights of the late dusk could have been a single brush of an artists hand..the light was perfect, a soft brush of orange over the winter white that still held so much of the land. "Are you alright?" He finally asked once more in a voice that could reflect the soft hues of the setting sun--frazzled this one. It had been many years since his prayers had been answered in such a manner. (d
Anulia of Amora:
It was by some non cruel luck that the male she had run into did not have blond hair, nor did he cover himself in animal skins and smell of whiskey. While still dark, this males features were different and ones she had seen once before. Her mind was a clutter of fears and worries, unable to extend out to remember so many years ago that her fate had taken her along a ride with a pirate and cast this man into her life. His words were unknown, but Anulia's heart was beating so loud that she could barely hear anything else. Deep breaths were taken as she stared up at the male. From the ground, he looked much larger then he would have been if she was standing. Imposing was a word that crossed her mind, before it was stripped away. His words were in her concern and a gloved hand even reached out to her with the palm upwards. It was a kind gesture, yet because of so much darkness around him, Anulia hesitated to take it. Anulia's hair looked a slight mess at her tumble towards the ground. Naturally oiled strands hung down around her dark fleshed face. The cloak had parted to show the gypsy skirt that covered her legs from view, while the corset still held her middle tightly. Breast were bound to spill out, yet there was no true danger of such to be revealed. Anulia's eyes left the darkness that seemed to wrap itself around the man before looking behind him. Nothing but ghost lingered in the shadows. Still her heart raced, even as she tentatively reached up. Her hand hesitated over his own. Her's was exposed and dirty though it was from the fall to the ground. It hovered over his own for a moment before Anulia took the chance and laced her fingers around the edges of his palm. A strong yet strangely delicate hold was given to him before she pushed herself up with the other and stood. Her knees ached and burned. She was sure to have taken some skin from them. "I...I am so very sorry. I thought... I thought I was being chased."
Jean-Claude of Aquitaine:
Despite the gloves his hands were cold, the circulation in them poor from the mangled mess under them. From the tips of his fingers to the bend in his arm the fires had touched, but one would never know for he kept himself covered so well. Even the ascot about his neck that had nothing to hide, could act as a cover. The only warmth he carried was when he cradled her hand into the bend of his arm and welcomed her close so that she could join him in his walk. Slow at first he would start, by way of wishing her in. "Oh no..do not be sorry." His voice was quiet, gentle and calm, but in that moment it could get caught on his words. She 'thought' she was being chased? Of what sick desires had left her feeling such a real fear? He would turn her in the direction in which she came for it was where he was going. "Take a deep breath, Mon cher..you are alright. Are you hurt?" She was so shaken, he could only wish to find her a seat. Such a real fear like that was not caused by shadows alone. Exotic, he could have remembered her in the days of the winters past, four years that came when a captain had wished to take his room so they could store an elephant. Had she known? That because of her gift, he had finally been forced out of that ship? He was very thankful in many ways perhaps only she would ever understand. The roads were close to the farm lands that lead to Eirian's, and they were at the mouth of the city. However, he would still seat her at the post where the met at arms were between shifts. Not once had he let her hand go, but when he settled in beside her he would release. She wore the clothes of a peasant, a gypsy who wore everything they owned in winter months; they made it easy to run. He wore everything of a French noble, one from fashions of his own hands that could have been sewn by satan for they were flawless, not a single stitch was undone, or a hem frayed. His silver buttons were made of the finest, the blouse below the coat held lace around the edges and was tucked in behind a silk vest. Even the scarf around his neck could have been favored enough by any royal. Two very different worlds collided, and he found it not of any lack of fate. (d
Aunlia of Amora:
Despite how slender the male appeared in this light, he had strength that eased Anulia upwards to her legs. She stretched them, unashamed to show she was slightly injured though no complaints would spill from her mouth. Anulia had expected to feel some warmth from him, but when her cold hands got nothing, she thought he was the undead. Still, he was a gentleman. Shame on Anulia, but she had never known an attacker to be kind first then cruel later. The world was wild and she had yet to taste the true meaning of deception as others had. The man pulled her closer and like a child wishing to be comforted, she went. He was much taller then she was, but then again most men were. His eyes...they were so different. So dark, it looked as if he only had blackness within them. What kind of man had that? The moment he walked, she went slowly as she felt the burn racing up her muscular thighs. It was only a moment later that she realized they were going the way she came. She paused, or tried to. "No..please Sir. Not that way. My past waits for me there." Her voice was so soft, almost a whisper and her eyes were going about wildly as her arm clung to his voice was like velvet over the flesh and as he told her to take a deep breath, she did. The answer would come in a shake of her head. Braids dangled down about the hair that was left untouched and untwisted. Anulia had noticed how fine the male's clothing was compared to her own, but like a child her vision was limited to the more serious things. Clothing and class was meant little to her. Anulia had no choice but to trust this male. It was hard, but only because of his appearance and with what had frightened her before hand. Jean claude was not like others he was a mingle of a gentleman and something dark. Perhaps she had a gift from her mother and was feeling it move from his own flesh to be cast over her's. The lesser of two evils. With Jean Claude so close, Anulia finally kept walking. Try as she might, she could not seem to lift her chin up higher which had her partly looking down towards the ground. She was strong, but only to a point. When they finally took a seat, she clung to him and as his hand let go, she gave him a moments peace. Then her hand found his and laced her fingers between his own as if she thought someone would come grab her at any moment. She would cling to him with everything she had. The dark played horrible tricks on the sweet woman beside him. "Do you see anyone? Does anything sound wrong or strange? I..-" Looking to their hands, she realized she really was clinging to his own. "Anulia...my name is Anulia. I am sorry, but is it alright if I hold your hand. I.. it comforts me."
Jean-Claude of Aquitaine:
There was an emptiness to his eyes that others had found to eerie, the solid state of them left little room for the whites to shine through, but it was there the madness could be seen. A genius held stars in their eyes, Jean-Claude could hold the entire galaxy. He was ahead of his times, tapping into ideas that were not his own, born from dreams that plagued him as a child. In his memory he could watch two men take on the sand dunes of a beach to fly for the first time, another of brilliance a painter who had invented a style of his own, a scientist who cured cancer, and books that had yet to be written. These were dreams he held, ones that had him beat as a child, baptized every sunday. However, it was here in his own mind did he put ideas together, of what did he study in that tower along the Ebony Hall? When the world as asleep the lights shifted behind the thick glass, and a shadow would cross in paces. "I do not see anything, Anulia.." It was not his custom to use a first name so soon, but when it was all she offered? "I see only the world around us..in fear or in dreams, nothing can hurt you now." He squeezed her hand, his gloved fingers coming to curl around her own."You may hold it as long as you wish, and you may call me Jean-Claude." His free hand came to touch his chest, as if he perhaps he thought her primitive, but listening to her dialect he heard the faint traces of an ancient sound that could date her to the dawn of time, in a voice that sounded very much as if it came from the earth. Her eyes the rich soil, and her hands..the thick roots of the tree of life. "We have met before..Captain Peregrine, I believe for a time or two wished to bring you all of Africa." He smiled then, a warm inviting almost foreign pull of his pale thin lips. "But it has been so long.." How she had changed, and he had to wonder if Peregrine would even remember her now. His vacant eyes went out to the surroundings once more, scanning the trees the earth around them, and every shadow forth of his sight. "I see only this.." He would motion out to the wild of the farm lands, the great outdoors, "The sun stretches through the trees, her shadows taking shapes that seem so very strange..God's beauty in the palette before us, and his salvation in the meadow..It is like a dream.." He spoke so quietly, coming to catch her eyes once more, "And you? Do you see something so evil in this? Tell me...what is it you see." Part of the healing came first with confession. (d
Anulia of Amora:
Anulia knew that some part of her was rambling on about what she saw and heard. She must have seemed like a crazy begger with how she was reacting, but time was pulling so close. Soon it would all end and she would have to start all over again. Jean Claude...she remembered. Light brown eyes glanced to his hand and watched the glove encased limb move with grace that even she did not possess. How wonderful and strange at the same time to see a man hold such allurement? He saw nothing, which had her calming slightly though her hand still stayed in his own. That small tongue poked out to quickly lick at her moist, full lips for a moment before she sighed. His words, they were the perfect distraction to help her think of other things. And think she did. "Yes, yes. I remember. I met you after those.. I think they were men, but can not be sure. After they attacked myself and Perry." A nervous laugh came from her lips and graved the air for a short time. "He did...an elephant. Komor is his name. I wish he were here now." She meantioned. His smile was both inviting and sent a chill down her spine. Something about him gave mixed signals. It had been a long time and Anulia now felt a bit bad that she could not remember more about him. As he puled her attention to the trees and the world before them, Anulia looked out at it and took a few deep breaths. Her heart no longer slammed against the bones that surrounded them. He saw beauty, but what did she see? "I see... I see the world I know as my home. I see places I have been and yet have not been in so long. No, not evil. But something I think I will long for if I ever lose it." Her voice was still soft as she spoke. "It really is beautiful isn't it?" She paused as another thought crept into her mind. "Oh! I hit you pretty hard! Are you okay. Forgive my manners...how very rude of Anulia. Please, are you injured? I can help." Without hesitation, she leaned over to reach for the end of his fine pants and tried to pull them up a bit to see if he had any scraps on his knees like she did.
Jean-Claude of Aquitaine:
She was so uncomfortable around him, this he could tell in the way she carried her eyes, but why then did she still hold his hand? Bitten, he was taken with her. Curious, to see this puzzle unfold before him. "It is indeed beautiful.." Did he speak of the sight or the woman before him? For both held their reasons to further a new life, to explore. It was fate that had her run long into him, but was it simply the other way around? Did he stop her? "We all have our fears, and no matter what beauty holds it think of it only as this.." He let go of her hand only to find his fingers brushing the ample curve of her cheek. "No matter how you feel, you are never alone in this fight." Jean-Claude could not have known of all the men who threw themselves at her feet, the path in which she tread was not one she would ever see alone, but perhaps this was why she had left? Did Anulia wish to gain her own feet, while learning of the trade from a Gypsy? "You harbor deep deadly fears, Anulia." This could have been learned by the run alone, but what was it that held her so captive? "Perhaps someday you will tell me about them?" He would write it in his journals, along pages that outlined her face just the same as his hand in this moment. However, he would let his words end when she rose to come before him. She would not find bruises, or scrapes but the red angry skin of burns. She had crossed a very deep line, that would soon have that very hand that held her own pulling it away with a good deal of force. Perhaps she would learn of the lines she crossed in this motion alone by the quick twist in his voice, and the darkening of his eyes. She had invaded much of him, that would now be a secret that she too would have to carry, a burden of the likes perhaps she would understand. "Don't." He could almost breathe with a hiss, that would have chased the sun from the sky. She took from the image with a single look, a man with a beautiful face held such nasty secrets? Gossip would have him killed, and for this he let her hand go as silence fell over him. Anulia had opened pandora's box, and saw into a world that very few ever knew existed. He would have nothing more to say, but knew very much she would run again. A deep heavy sigh escaped him as he waited for to see her escape. (d
To Be Continued...