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Post by Ursula Darling on Jul 24, 2011 19:43:35 GMT -6
Femme Fatale
Paris, France Skirts swirled in beautiful colors, coats bustled as they caught the wind in swirling bodies where no fabric that touched the other seemed to mind. Here there was joy and laughter, here there was peace and serenity. Amongst friends, none could figure there was a darkness amongst them until a body fell, blood streaming like growing pond of water from the cut that slit a throat wide open and someone screamed....
The room was quiet. Deadly quiet. A basin sat on the dressing table , the water within turned light red from washing. Ursula stood at the windows edge, curled in just the right way that she was blocked from those looking up, not that there was anyone in the streets at this hour. The nights events replayed within her head as she played with the locket hanging around her neck. Zack was still laying in bed, like some besotted smitten God that had won the prize, the sheet barely covering over his naked hips. She knew Zack was watching her, knew that he saw the strange quietness on her face. In one of her moods, not the one you knew death was around the corner but the quiet blankness that many who saw it often got a sense that perhaps she WAS a minion of the devil if not the prince (or in her case princess) of darkness herself. After they had sex, she had gotten up and gotten dressed, or at least had put her robe on, barely closing it so that her breasts peeked from the folds where the locket had rested before being plucked up between her fingers to be played with. She had fixed them both a glass of wine, taking a swallow of her own before putting it on the table while Zack had swallowed nearly half of his before putting it down. She knew what he thought. He had thought he had won, that he had taken her away from Marke but the truth of it was, the kill excited her, to much to be denied, her insides burned until her skin was afire and her body couldn't contain it anymore. She saw Zack getting frustrated as he watched her and finally, all most, she smiled when the question met the silence.
"What is it about him? What? Do you think you are soul mates?"
Ursula let the locket go, letting it fall back to her chest. "No, of course not. You have to believe in souls to believe that." A quick and simple answer.
"Explain. Don't give me one of your half assed answers that satisfy other people Ursula. I know you better then that. I know you better then HIM."
Ursula stayed silent for several more seconds yet there was no pull of her lip through her teeth. She wasn't thinking, she was annoying him and she knew it. "I can't, explain it. Let people have religion, let them have things they can explain away. Visions of Christ in their portage bowls if they wish...Religion..." she scoffed and shook her head as if the words gave her allergies. "Personally, I believe Christ was a con artist, and a very good one to come up with this crock that's in what people call 'the holy bible'. Another piece of their brains given away to a con, a very good con that its lasted this long. I've lived life long enough there is no spirit heavenly or below the soils of the earth that can safe or damn me."
Zack kicked the blanket off his body but made no other move other then that. "That's not what I asked. I asked about him."
Ursula turned from the window, her fingers still lingering at her neck as she smiled at him. "Ohmmm, say his name Zack, it won't kill you" Her shoulders wiggled as her fingers caressing down the side of her neck pulled the robe open and then slipped to the ground.
"Fine. Donal....Marke...Whatever you want to call him. Tell me....why" He answered as if sulking, but his body responded to the sight of her naked flesh.
Slowly, Ursula wiggled onto the bed, hips spread with a knee on either side of his body as she crawled up him like a hunting tigress low in the brush so the prey would never know she was there. "Maybe its, the goodness in him. Maybe its the challenge of taking that goodness and strangling it slowly out of his body. You both resemble each other, much as you both protest it. But you, you follow me around like some lost puppy that most of the time its nauseating, I'm sick of wondering when my secrets will slip past your lips in the heat of anger because lets face it, you both have such a temper..."
"Ursula...I...." Zach started
He was stopped by her fingers against his lips as she let out a gentle hiss between her lips in a Shh shh noise. "See, maybe you would, maybe you wouldn't; give up secrets that aren't yours to give up but my ways, are to anticipate all the damage others would use to harm me and instead, turn it on them. You want to know why its always been him? Because as much as goodness there is in him, he's passed most of it to his son and there is this darkness in him, just below the surface that excites..." She emphasized the word excite as her hips met his and rolled downward to press hotly against him, the sadistic smile curling her lips as he moaned in his own excitement at the warm and inviting moisture between her thighs. "me..." she finished and cupped his chin to kiss his lips.
Zach face was a mixture of pleasure, pain and confusion for even as she pushed herself invitingly against him, he could not move to press back, could not move to even throw her off as part of his brain pounded at him to do with that dangerous grin on her lips. "Ursula..." He strangled out in a cry of protest and pleading.
"Mmmm, I do love you Zack, in some way, I do believe its possible to love two people at the same time but you...can't ask me to choose, because it will be him, it will always be him." Folding her arm over his chest, her breasts mashed against his skin as she relaxed her body on top of his own. "It looks like you have forgotten much about me my darling, but its no matter, I won't take the chance of your sore loosing to get in the way of things. Let me explain hmm, I grow tired of the games, the kill...is no longer challenging, but don't get me wrong of course, I still love it but I think its time to choose the more challenging road, the straight arrow."
Her free hand lifted to smooth through his hair. "It seems I have timed things just right, your body, is no longer yours to control, soon your breathing. Don't worry darling, I am not going to kill you, in time, you'll regain use of your mouth..." she paused to again, caress his lips with her own. "but I wouldn't scream when you do...see I'm not going to remove the basin with the bloody water in it, anyone to come running, could get the wrong idea. No my darling, I am being merciful, for the first time in a long time, you'll regain the feeling in your body after a while and it will be painful when you do and when you do, I suggest you take the money on the dresser and leave...." Slowly she pushed up from his body and wiggled to crawl off of him taking her robe with her. It would seem eerie to some, to see someone who looked dead upon a bed watching you unable to move as you got dressed but Ursula didn't seem to mind, or notice as she dressed, paused to dump the rest of the poisoned wine out the window, destroy her own wine glass in the fireplace, place a letter next to the blood infused water bowl for him and a sack of money before heading for the door. Always the dramatic woman, she paused long enough to blow him a kiss before the door clicked closed behind her.
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Post by Ursula Darling on Jul 24, 2011 20:06:40 GMT -6
The Inquisitor: Who he was or where he had come from was of no particular importance. It could of been said, and it was rumored that he had just arrived in the isle of Skye but the truth was, he had been here for quite some time, keeping a very low profile, just observing much as it killed him. One blow of wind in the wrong direction and everything could crash down again. He always arrived to late, now he seemed right on time. Within reach and yet he couldn't strike, not until now and even then, he was targeting his prey but someone close to them. It was his last hope really. This one had survived much longer then anyone before, not that the person knew it so in the end, this person was the bargaining chip, not because he was so valued but because of what he possessed. This person, this man, was indeed his last hope to finally ending things and going home. Tonight was the night and he itched nervously in the corner of the grand stage room of Le Grande Lily, just waiting. It was the perfect place to draw the Lord Donal Marke too seeing was he was so heavily watched. The rouse was very simple, a notice sent to his manor of a new client who promised a wealth of business to the Lord. In truth, it wasn't far from the truth. Still, everything, now rested on this moment, whether the Lord would show, and how he would react to the 'business' transaction.
Marke: The Lily was in full swing, loud raucous fun, on the main stage, girls danced and sang, while gilded lily's of every type and style moved through out the patrons weaving their spell of beauty and sexuality, desire and fantasy, into this world of intrigue and fantasy walked Lord Donal Marke.. his height made him immediately recognizable, as did his statue, he was a tall barrel chested man, courtly and stylish, with a rakes smile, Lillie's flitted about him like little butterflies, trying to catch his eye, as he made his way to a private table, tipping the waitress lavishly as she brought him a bottle of scotch and two glasses. Then he settled to wait for the mysterious client.
The Inquisitor: This man, this inquisitor as other countries had come to call him, was not a frail man though his hair and beard sported salt and pepper color in the dark masses of hair upon his head. His beard covering upper lip, cheeks and chin was more salt and pepper then the top of his head still massed with full thick hair. His build was well maintained, there was all most an air of nobility to the way he sat and yet he had a way of making himself blend into the masses. He recognized the Lord Donal Marke as soon as he had come into the room. Arrogant, that was the first word to come to mind at the look of the man though he had seen the sketches his scouts had sent back to him. For several minutes he stayed at his own table. He watched and waited, the lillies flittering around him like butterflies to the most attractive flower in the field and yet his face betrayed no jealousy, no personal interest other then the wild fantasies offered at the Lily. After his mild pause, he rose from the chair and danced quite gracefully for a gentleman around the room with the ladies till he came to the table of Lord Donal Marke and sat down, as if he had been there the whole time and Marke had simply joined him. "Good evening, my Lord Marke." His voice was rolling with a slight accent that could just be hinted on. "I'm pleased you decided to join me."
Marke: "You have me at a disadvantage, You know my Name and I know not yours?" the last words tone inched upward in question as he extended his hand to the new guest at the table.. " I would ask you to join me but yhou already have" he smiled rakishly, dangerously, Marke was not a man to be trifled with.. the glass was nodded to.. as was the decanter of scotch.. in offering the man to pour himself a drink...
The Inquisitor: "You may call me Inquisitor if you like, most people do now a days" He reached across the table to give a brisk and firm shake to Marke's hand but waved his hand as he drew it back from the shake at the offer of a drink. "I think we had best cut right to the chase as the saying goes. I promised in my notice, a business deal beyond your wildest imagination." He drew his other arm onto the table, leaning his weight upon his elbows resting at the edge of the table as he drew himself further over the table. "Its a deal of mortality Lord Marke. In the end, it is a deal of life or death, for you...and for your son."
Marke: Marke had never like the minions of the Church who claimed to be inquisitors on a holy mission for God, more than likely they were twisted men on missions just as twisted as their souls. His face showed no distress nor emotion as the inquisitor laid out his... deal.. other than the darkening of slate grey eyes when his son was mentioned, and the slight throbbing of the vein in his neck as he fought the urge to strangle the bastard before him.. "A man who sits in a whorehouse, his own place of meeting, offers morality?" he lifted his glass and took a long slow drink of his scotch as he calmed the need to kill the son of a bytch.. "I find your brand of humor.. refreshing "
The Inquisitor: He leaned back then and gave a wave of his hand. He was a good judge of character, a good judge of people emotions, even if he doesn't show them. "You mistake me Sir" He spoke first and then continued. "Yes, I offer you life." His jaw flecked but it was not one of anger or irritation, it was a quirk when he was thinking. "Your being followed by some who claim to be actors or even actresses of the Dark Angel Theater when in truth, they are the Dark Angel Assassins, they wear silver rings of angel wings with a black opal stone in the middle and the Mistress who heads the group, has a tattoo on the inside of her thigh, only ever known by a man who has been intimate with her, well...except myself. One of my men was not so lucky, he managed to write out description of it and hide it before his death." He cupped his hands on top of the table. "There are rumors you are also, part of this group but I have discredited them to your lack of ring, and the lack of your following the lady when she was called away to Paris." He paused, his head cokeed slightly in the linger. "Have I your attention yet, my lord?"
Marke: His fingers thrummed along the rim of the glass as if bored.. "Go on, I assume you are going to make a point at some... point " his voice was droll as if bored as well... " for the moment you have my attention " his heart almost stopped when the man spoke of Ursula.. how many months now she had been gone, without word.. without so much as a hint of what she was doing, for all intents and purposes, for what this Inquisitor would have seen.. it seemed the demon Ursula had been exorcized from Marke's life completely.
The Inquisitor: "Let me begin first, by saying, I'm not with the church, I come from a religious family yes but I was hired by a private party over 12 years ago to find Ursula Darling. Secondly, I know everything, so there is no need to deny any reports I offer you, not that I plan to offer you anything on your past with her. I know perhaps more then you will ever understand about the woman whom you've chosen as a companion, though God help me, it escapes me what you see in the woman as well as she to you. Your not...like her, Lord Marke." He paused, his jaw flexing again as if he meant to say more on the subject then thought better of it. "What I do not know, is how much she has told you. I can't imagine she has told you everything or you would of seen her gone from your life the minute she stepped back into it and your son." He paused once more to take a breath and continue. "I gave you what I am willing to give at the end of the deal, your life...and the life of your son, as well as a considerable amount of money in reward for the capture of this woman. In short, Lord Marke, I need your help. This woman, is smart, every time I have gotten close to her, she has fled. Oh she is in Paris yes, but only because I notified her target of his short time frame and told him where to go. I have no doubts, she will be back and mainly, for your benefit. I can promise you, her capture doesn't mean her death, though she has done enough in this world to deserve it, my purpose is to return her home, her true home...to take up mantle of her true name. Will you hear me out sir? Of the story I have to tell you, before you make a decision. I ask that you do, for the sake of your son."An he paused again, this time for Marke.
Marke: He leaned forward and poured another glass of scotch then resettled back in his seat, swirling the amber liquid as he leveled a gaze of emotionless intensity at the Inquisotor... "Continue before I decide better and leave you here to listen to your own derris.. " now he took another sip and sat resigned to listen for the moment, though his fingers itched to pull the sword at his side and behead this miserable bastard, but first he needed to know what this man knew.. and what Ursula was involved in now.. trouble seemed to find the witch with the ease of a summer breeze.. and even though she had left him again... he still felt a certain allegiance.. to her.. and her safety.
The Inquisitor: He let out a heavy sigh, perhaps of relief or perhaps it was a pent up breath he had held, who knew. He gave a nod of his head as he spoke "Thank you". Reaching into his vest, he pulled out a leaflet of papers. The documents were not thick, they were colored drawings which he held onto. "I am going to go backwards here...so forgive me if you do not understand, just yet." He flipped a thumb through the drawings then paused. "Now accounts amass that in the four years Ursula as been in Skye, there have been four major deaths attached to her name. Jonathan Fox, who will come up later in this tale, Claire MacTavish Marke who I understand was your wife and my deepest apologies extended to you, and the deaths of Lord Saul McCula and Father Jeffrey Bicard. Remember, I am not here to capture her, or anyone else for trial, but where you privy to these murders or...accomplice to them? The woman has a way of twisting people to do her bidding, naturally I hold nothing against you but I am....curious you might say."
Marke: "I said I would listen to your tale not... offer any insights of my own, but I will tell you that my wife was murdered by Lord McCula, poisoned, because I had quit my engagement with his daughter, and he though.. sullied their name... Clair's death was a tragedy, not to be laid at Ursula's feet. " he again took up his drink and nodded.. " Continue "
The Inquisitor: "Understandable, thank you for the clarification." He thumbed the drawings again and drew out a one and slid it across the table to him. The woman had jet black hair, porcelain white skin and a beauty mark just above her upper lip on the right hand side. For anyone who didn't know Ursula well, it would be easy to wonder who the woman was. For Marke, he had no doubts he would recognize Ursula through the changes. "The five years ago, she was in Rome and went by the name Francesa Aeviria, she was engaged to Antoni Fontella who tragically died only months after their engagement was announced, it was ruled an accident, broken neck from falling off a horse. The year before that..." He thumbed again through the drawings and drew out another drawing, all of them were Ursula of course, this one she was Blonde and no beauty mark but same fair skin. "She was in florence as Fadelia Soriano...again, only a few months there, she was engaged to Giovanni Barone who was said to have died from a posioness spider bite." This drawing was slid to him, then another where Ursula had light brown hair and blonde highlights. "The year before that, in greece, engaged to Kristo Zifos, his death was ruled a suicide, cliff dive." Another drawing this one again had Ursula with Black hair but tan skin. "The year before Greece, she was in Spain, her fiancee Alejandro DeRosa, killed by his mad dogs which he used to fight at his ancestrol home." Here he paused to allow Marke to look at the drawings. "Each man, was a titled Lord in their lands: Barcelona, Spain; Crete, Greece; Florence, Italy; Rome, Italy; now while their deaths were all ruled accidents, there is reason to believe, Ursula was responsible for each of them..." He paused a second and continued. "I am surprised she decided to use the name Ursula darling here, as the year before spain, she spent five years in England, first as Ursula Darling..her faincee Charles Rochester, drowned in the bathtub, then she spent two years in in York as Teagan Knight and was engaged to the earl, Edward Norrington who died in a fire, presumed he fell asleep reading, after York she went to Cornwall, and then to Norfolk where she switched to being Josephine Hawkins where she was engaged to Richard Nottingham who they never found out how he died, in his sleep, but it was revealed in my study of his body, it was a hat pin, placed at the right place in the back of the head, then she went to Kent to Nottinghams best friends, Bryce Kitridge who died on the anniversary of Notingham's death in a carriage crash. Now in all these cases, once the engagement was announced, the wills were all ready modified to give everything to Ursula..contrary to what others people, that her partner Jonathan Fox was to blame, he was never in the picture, he stayed with the acting troupe, in england, until he met her here nine years later." Each identity he spoke of Ursula, a drawing followed, her hair and skintone always different, red hair, black hair, brown hair with highlights, blonde, light brown...it went on and on through the nine year count. Again he paused to allow Marke to catch up.
Marke: Marke picked up the drawings and then set them aside.. "Seems I'm a fortunate fellow that she left me and is not likely to come back.. Seems I bore her , and her luck in love is tragic Cheers to the next bloke" he raised his glass in mocking salute to the woman of the hour, sarcasm dripping from his voice.. "I already knew she was a very bad girl.. you tell me these things, yes.. I didn't know... this " his hand canted over the pictures and names.. "But it matters little now.. she's gone.. to Paris... I believe you said.. I've not spoke or had contact with her at all "
The Inquisitor: "Naturally, she would never make it seem like she was good; I suspected you would know she wasn't good but about all this, no, I did not think she would tell you." He paused as the man cheered in salute, there was a roll of his eyes but he waited none the less. "Yes, she is gone to Paris, but I don't suspect she will stay gone. This is why I ask for your help. I am not finished." There was one last picture he slid across to him, Ursula as a Red Haired vixen. "Before England, she went to Paris, as Odette Louvierre, she went her time with the brothers Phillipee and Edouard Deveraux, Phillipee was her victim, while Edouard, is the infamous Jonathan Fox." He slid back in his seat and sighed. "She met Edouard, or shall we call him Jonathan so you may understand, in school, in England where she was sent when she was five. I believe your half brother, Zach, was also part of their little trio. It seems back then, she had a thing for brothers and she never...leaves a victim alive, true, you've lasted longer then the others but I wonder how long you will last when she returns, as you can see, she cannot remain in Paris for fear of discovery, if she had any inclining I was here or that I tipped off her client, she would of killed you...and your son, and vanished. As I am talking to you, clearly she has not. Now we get to the start of all of this. Ursula, was born Simona Ambrosio of Cicely to Lord Dimitri and Cabalina Ambrosio. Her mother ran off when she was two, she had a very strict religious father and Cabalina, I suspect, couldn't take it anymore especially bearing her husband a girl child. When she was old enough for school she was sent off to the finest school money could buy and the furthest one away Dimitri could stand without ridicule. By the time she was 16, Simona was married to Lord Lorenzo Fiorella by proxy, and when she graduated school at the age of eighteen, and he 33, she joined him in Cicely." He once again sat up in his chair. "I said I was hired privately Lord Marke, I was hired by her husband, Lord Lorenzo Fiorella to bring her home. I have been hunting her to do so, for twelve years. I've no doubts she will be back Lord Marke, and I'm asking for your help, to finally close a twelve year promise to her husband." His elbows came to rest on the table again. Now the ball was in Marke's court. Everything was resting on him.
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