Fantasy Hotel Tussen Vanderheim (Open - Jump in!)

[poppet]

Nearly 500 years ago, a castle owned by vampire called Lord Vanderheim was converted into a hotel for the dark races. Serving as a gateway between the human and supernatural realms, the hotel remained hidden deep within the endless Eudora Forest. While various villages line the outskirts of Eudora Forest, the villagers do not travel into it, knowing that none who enter, return. Surrounded by a dense fog, the castle is said to be enchanted to remain hidden by the human eye. While many legends and rumors exist about a horrifying vampire castle deep within the wood, the true story of Hotel Tussen Vanderheim is unknown.

The facts however, cannot be changed. 500 years ago the vampire Lord who hated the human race, fell in love with a powerful witch named Rosalind. She had originally lived in a nearby human village. Following an alluring pan flute tune, the witch fell victim of the vampires' song to lure humans to castle as food. Upon arrival to the castle however, her will as a witch and not that of a human, allowed her to break the vampire spell. No one is certain what happened after that, but within the year, Lord Vanderheim was said to have put an end to the calling and imprisonment of humans. It was then that he converted the castle into a hotel with Rosalind's wish to unite the human and dark worlds. As an exceptional witch, Rosalind enchanted the castle to have a will and voice of its own, so that it could be self sufficient enough to last for all eternity.

By that time though, too many humans from the surrounding villages had gone missing. With the enchanted fog lifted from the castle, the humans set out to destroy it and the beasts inside. When Rosalind caught wind of the villager's plans, she rushed to her village to stop them. Having thought she was under a vampire spell, the villagers killed her. When news found Lord Vanderheim, he attacked the surrounding villages, leaving almost no survivors. Shortly after that, he couldn't bear to live in the hotel that reminded him so much of Rosalind, and he disappeared.

500 years later, the hotel still remains deep within the Eudora forest and surrounded by its enchanted mist. While it's still a pathway between worlds, humans are not welcome and either hated, feared or looked down on by the inhabiting races. Many of the beings who visit or live there, have known or know of Lord Vanderheim and his story. But, since the passing and disappearance of the pair, the castle has grown weak. While she was once lively and well taken care of, she is no longer as present and her voice can no longer be heard. The lights don't shine as bright, the cobwebs remain in the corners, and recently the walls and ceilings have begun to crack in some places.

This is where your story begins. Are you a traveler of the dark races staying at the hotel? Do you live there? Are you descendant of Lord Vanderheim, here to assume the role of heir? Do you work at the castle? Are you trying to find a way to save the hotel? Destroy it? Be creative in finding your place in the hotel, please! This is a casual jump-in style roleplay but you are required to make contributing posts of sustenance. You're expected to write in paragraph form with punctuation, or you'll likely end up ignored. Post a photo (anime only) of your character and a bio (or link to a character profile) in your entry post, and have fun! Thanks for playing!

>> HERE'S THE OOC FOR HOTEL TUSSEN VENDERHEIM <<

 

[poppet]

Violet Derux


Like all the women in her family, Violet was born with stark black hair and deep violet, almost black eyes. Unlike the women in her family, Violet's hair gradually turned almost white and her eyes a bright vivid blue. It was unlike anything her family had seen in generations, and came without an apparent reason. From then on, she was nicknamed Sunshine by her family and closest friends, an ironic and somewhat mocking moniker considering her family's origins and purpose. Violet was born to a witch, and is an ancestor to the original witch. Like all the women in her family, she has the ability to cast spells, make potions, contact the 'other side' and see the future. Though the latter is not something she can do at will. While her family has strayed into the world of dark magics, Violet has refused to join them. She is the opposite of everything her family knows, just like her ancestor, Rosalind, had been.


Violet is a lighthearted girl who's as naturally curious as she is positive. She's somewhat fiery and outspoken and wears her heart on her sleeve. She stands at 5'4" with average pale skin and feminine curves. Her features are dainty and her heart is big. Violet was named after a flower and the 'V' shaped birthmark on her left cheekbone.

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It had been at least two hours since Violet had gone into Eudora Forest. She often traveled into it to collect herbs for healing potions, though never far enough to lose sight of the village. While placing herbs into her basket, a faint tune trickled through the woods. "A... pan flute?" she'd questioned quietly to herself. As she strained to listen, the melody grew louder and louder until Violet could no longer form coherent thoughts. Her vivid blue eyes glazed over and she stood, dropping the basket to the ground. Without so much as casting a backward glance to her village, she stepped deeper into the darkening forest.

Deeper and deeper she traveled, slowly and unaware of the monsters that lived in the forest, until through the trees, a clearing of thick mist came into view. Violet stepped out of the woods, and the fog began to lift. As the castle began to appear before her, Violet was overtaken by a sharp pounding in her head. The pan flute tune ceased immediately, and her eyes were no longer glazed over. "What now?" she groaned, holding onto her head with her eyes clenched tightly. Violet was having a vision. They were always unpredictable, and generally unwelcome. They were painful and came at the most inconvenient times. Of course, this one had likely just saved her from falling victim to the vampire spell, but she didn't know that yet.

While she held her head in pain, she saw the castle. Inside of it was a beautifully glowing crystal that had to be as tall as her, and possibly as wide. It floated in the center of a grand and empty stone room, at least twenty feet off the ground. Suddenly, the light faded and the castle began to crumble. Violet gasped and opened her eyes. She was kneeling on the ground, blinking owlishly up at the outside of the castle. "But... how...?"

 

[Kry]

Fyren
​

Many hundreds of years ago, Fyren was summoned from the realm of demons by a ritual. The ritual bound him to the mortal plane, unable to leave and return to his own by any means known and unknown. The ritual was done a bit improper, as it was supposed to bind him to the life of the one that had summoned him and render him unable to kill that warlock. As the ritual was a little wrong, Fyren immediately murdered the man that summoned him and began roaming the mortal coil. Angry and frustrated at being unable to return home, destruction and death was left in his wake no matter where he went. Soon the hunters of demons came for him. Eventually he was captured by a demon hunter. Instead of outright killing the demon or turning him over to those who would, the hunter kept him. Bound with holy wards and artifacts, Fyren could not escape, and was subjected to gruesome torture day by day at the hands of this demon hunter and others he brought in. Years passed and Fyren could feel the bonds and artifacts that held him weakening, the hunter that had lain them had died in a hunt, and so the power he had infused those wards and artifacts with was greatly diminishing. One night, when the hunter's friends came to torment Fyren, he escaped. Killing his torturers and fleeing. Eventually Fyren lost his way in a forest, and stumbled upon this castle. Lord Vanderheim and Rosalind had welcomed him and offered him sanctuary. Fyren has been in the castle ever since.
​

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​

The castle was failing, it was obvious to Fyren, for he had been here, not quite at the beginning, but almost the entire 500 years. Give or take a few. The castle was in disrepair, her voice no longer heard. Cobwebs crowded the corners, and the lights seemed dimmer. He had noticed these things before today, but right now he was worried over such things. A pang of sadness touched his heart as well, because thoughts of the castle's disrepair also led to thoughts of Lord Vanderheim and his lover. A tragic story, and Fyren wondered, as he often did, what had become of the Lord of the castle. That man had taken him in, had given him sanctuary and a home when he had none of those things. For that the demon would be forever grateful, would do anything to repay such a great debt.


He was moving through the grand hall when he felt a presence, something tugging at him. His wings twitched a bit restlessly, and he moved towards where that presence tugged at him. Something was outside. Or someone. He wasn't sure who or what it was, only that there was something and for some reason it called to him. He inhaled deeply, body tensing slightly, as he mentally readied himself for anything. Long legs, as he was about six feet tall, carried him easily and quickly across the hall. His destination was the large front doors. Huge double doors.


Fyren hesitated a moment as he got closer to the doors, but he continued his movements. Stopping only when he stood close to those doors, his nose nearly touching one. He lifted his hands, it was almost an elegant gesture, and then with a flourish and steeled nerves, expecting anything, the doors were opened to the outside world. Fyren strode over the threshold, and stopped. His silver eyes landed on a figure. A human figure. Fyren sniffed tentatively at the air, not quite human. A witch. Fyren knew the smell of witch well.


He had spent many a day in long conversation with Rosalind, she had taught him the value of kindness and compassion. Things he could never repay her for no matter what. Her death had pained him so greatly, though as much as he hurt for it, he knew Lord Vanderheim had been hurt far worse by it. Fyren blinked his silver eyes at the girl kneeling before the castle. Why had she come here? How had she even found it? Those silver eyes glanced up at the castle, could it have somehow brought her? Fyren doubted it. The castle was weak. How could it lure anyone here?


"Why have you come here?" His voice was smooth, it flowed across the air and was almost caressing to the one that heard it, but there was no kindness in his tone. No compassion. He had learned the value of such things, but why should he share those things with an unknown human?

 

[poppet]

As the last shot of pain rang through Violet's head and she clenched her eyes shut to cradle her head, she heard a voice. She hadn't been aware that anyone else was out here and she snapped her head up. She was obviously momentarily startled. Though she hadn't realized she'd come here, the legends and rumors had crossed her mind the moment she snapped out of her trance. She thought this could be, that castle... And that would make any human nervous.


When Violet's head snapped up to the sound of the voice, he would immediately notice an uncanny resemblance in her and Rosalind. Her pale white hair and vivid blue eyes, to start. Violet stared at the other though. Not angrily or in fear, but more in confusion. This being didn't seem to be a vampire of the rumored castle. Or was he? She supposed she'd never actually seen one except for in old folklore books. Most people didn't even believe in the existence of the supernatural. But Violet knew better. She was a witch after all. Though she dwelled in a human realm like her ancestors before her.

Violet looked beyond him to the castle, and then back again. She looked in the direction from which she'd apparently come and then frowned lightly. Why had she come here? "There was, music," she mumbled, still frowning. She didn't hear it any longer though, and she still couldn't recall how she'd actually arrived here. "What is this place? What are you?" she asked boldly.

 

[Kry]

When the girl looked up at him, he took a couple of steps backwards, though he had not come close to her at all. That face, those features, they were uncanny. A close resemblance to Rosalind. It wasn't here though, the scent was different. Each creature had it's own tell-tale scent, but it was possible she was of some relation, some member of that family line. It was a possibility Fyren did not really want to consider. His silver eyes had hardened a bit, and he tilted his head slightly as he watched her. She seemed confused.


She hadn't screamed and run away at his appearance though, his wings twitching a bit behind him, and he stared at her a few moments longer before he approached. Fyren stepped close to this girl, and his six foot tall frame knelt in front of her, offering his hand to help her to her feet. His touch would be gentle, if she took his hand, delicate, as if he thought the slightest bit of pressure might crush her hand. Gently he would pull her up to her feet, more of a guiding tug than anything else really. Once they were both standing, Fyren would release her hand and take many backwards steps to put a few feet of distance between them.


Rosalind had taught him how to be a gentleman, and relation or not to the witch, it would have been rude of him to let the girl remain on the ground. Her questions were bold, but he didn't answer them until he had put that distance between them. Looking over his shoulder at the castle. "I am a demon, this is a castle." He looked at her, silver eyes still cold with what could only be indifference. "There is no music here. I will not tolerate lies." A single threatening step was taken towards her, mostly for dramatic effect. Fyren hoped it worked. "Now, why are you trespassing here?" He watched her expectantly, but he was thinking.


He knew at one time, music had lured humans here, until Rosalind, but Lord Vanderheim wasn't here to play that enchanting song...or had the instrument itself been enchanted? Fyren wasn't sure on that point, but he was sure such a thing didn't matter. What mattered was that no one had been summoned here with music since Rosalind.

 

[poppet]

The girl leaned backwards the slightest, almost unnoticeable bit when the demon began his approach, and again when he knelt towards her. She blinked owlishly at his outstretched hand for a moment, before turning those vibrant orbs onto him and cautiously taking his hand. He's kind, she thought, as he carefully pulled her to her feet. "Thank you," she said earnestly, dusting off her knees as he took steps to put distance between them.


When he glanced back at the castle, she looked, too. But her grateful face flattened immediately at his words. Obviously this was a castle, and obviously he was a demon. She sighed heavily with a frown. It was then that he stepped towards her, almost menacingly. She stepped backwards. He's... a dual personality? One moment he was kind, and the next he was frightening. But after a moment, she found that she was more irritated than intimidated. "I'm not lying," she said, crossing her arms and turning up her nose.

She turned towards the forest. The fog had settled back in. Was this the way home? Or, that way? "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the tune of a pan flute," she said, almost curiously, almost sadly. She had medicine to make back in her village. People were counting on her. But, she turned back towards the castle. If this was the rumored castle..... Violet took steps towards it in awe. "It looks a lot more run-down than I'd have imagined," she mumbled, though still not even positive that this was the place.

 

[Kry]

He had ignored her thanks when helped her to her feet, he did notice the irritation. Fyren would have much preferred to intimidate her, not irritate her. Irritated people were a pain to deal with, intimidated people usually just ran away. His indifferent stare turned to a glare when she insisted she wasn't lying, of course Fyren had no idea why she would lie to him. Honestly he wasn't sure she should have been able to find this place without a guide, he looked past her, towards the forest. The girl would certainly need a guide to her find her way back. Fyren would not be that guide, he had no desire to get that close to human society.


Fyren's head had tilted to the side slightly, looking momentarily startled when she mentioned a pan flute. "A pan flute?" His brows knit together in confusion for a moment. "Impossible." Fyren knew enough of the history of this place to know that the music that had once lured humans to their doom had been a pan flute. He probably knew far too much about this place. When the girl took a step towards the castle, Fyren moved backwards again, and half turned. His silver eyes softened as he looked to the castle when the girl spoke about how run-down it looked. "Nothing lasts forever." Something in his voice made him seem forlorn as he spoke those words.


He blinked the softness away as those eyes fell upon her. "Leave this place, there's nothing here for your kind." He fully turned towards the castle, his back to girl. He had nothing to fear from a human, witch though she may be, Fyren did not fear her or what small power she might have. He felt confident in turning his back to her as he moved to return inside the castle.

 

[poppet]

Violet shot the demon a glare when he seemed positive she was lying about the pan flute, but decided to leave it alone for now. It didn't matter to her what he thought. But his softer tone didn't slip under her radar when he spoke of the castle. She cast a glance at his profile while he looked up at it, but suddenly he was turning his hardened gaze on her again. What? He was definitely dual personality, she decided, less on fact and more just from annoyance. He was so rude! Sometimes.


"My kind?" she questioned, offended. "And just what kind is that!?" she asked in annoyance. But he was already turning his back on her and walking away. She grumbled in exasperation, before turning her back, too. She half expected to see Eudora Forest. But all she could see was a dense fog. For all she knew, if she stepped into it she'd fall off the edge of the Earth. A menacing growl echoed somewhere in the fog nearby, and Violet took a few steps backwards before turning towards the castle and the demon. "Hey!" she shouted. "Wait just a minute!" She jogged the short distance after him and grabbed onto his arm instinctively to get him to stop.

"I can't just wander back into the forest! I'll never find my way back to my village," she said. And it was truer than even she realized. The forest was endless, and filled with lesser, more mindless and instinctive demons that would eat her without hesitation. Vibrant blue eyes stared up at him, determined, but somewhat pleading. It was highly likely that she wouldn't just take no for an answer and walk away. But something tugged in the back of her mind about the castle, too. Nothing made her feel that it too much less dangerous than the forest...

 

[Kry]

"Human kind." He spoke the words rather offhandedly when she asked him what he'd meant by that. Though the way he said it, made him sound like he thought that was rather self explanatory. It didn't matter though, and his wings twitched with the slightest bit of irritation as he attempted to return to the inside of the castle. A menacing growl left the forest, and it took considerable effort to keep himself turning and looking towards where it came from. As it was Fyren had no intention at first, of letting this girl into the castle.


The demon was content to ignore her when she called after him, but then she had grabbed him. Just as he had reached that door way too. Her hand touched his arm and he stopped instantly, one foot even partially raised in mid-step. That head turned to the side and tilted down so that his silver eyes could stare coldly at her. He did not pull away, merely stood there and stared for a few moments, as if her bold action had startled him into inaction. He lifted a hand, his cold eyes softening a bit, and gave her hand on his arm a pat. One that could be, almost reassuring.


"Perhaps you are right. The forest is dangerous..." He lowered his hand and turned slightly to look towards the forest. Had the fog thickened? Maybe, but there were all sorts of unsightly demonic entities that lived there. So regardless of the fog, this human might've gotten eaten by something before she could have the chance to get lost. There was a frown on his lips as he looked back down at her, and a resigned sigh slipped past those frowning lips. "I have not left this place in many a hundred year, so I would be unable to guide you back to whence you came from. I would get lost." Fyren also had no desire to leave, to venture closer to the human world.


It couldn't be helped. Another resigned sigh, and he gently pulled his arm from her grasp. "Come. I can not guarantee your safety here either, but perhaps it is safer than the forest." He didn't look to see if she followed, he knew she would, as his long legs carried him over the threshold and into that castle.

 

[poppet]

She had expected anything in particular by stopping the demon. But if she'd had to think about it beforehand, it wouldn't have been a softened expression and a pat on the hand. Violet was relieved. She released him as he pulled away and nodded at his words, only glancing back at the dense fog one last time before resolving to enter the castle. Surely it was safer than the forest. "Thank you," she said gratefully after him.


As she stepped through the large door into the foyer, she immediately noticed a large antique check-in counter to the left. A large heavy light hung dimly from the center of the tall ceiling, covered in dust and cobwebs. There didn't seem to be anyone else around, of course there wouldn't be. Even with the dense fog, it was still mid-afternoon in the human realm. Since the hotel was gateway between it and the dark world, it was only natural that the beings here would be most active during a human night. The lights that lined the walls appeared to be will o the wisps rather than glass bulbs, and despite the disrepair of the hotel, it was hard to miss the detail put into the making of this place. It was obvious that the castle had once been a beautiful place.

Suddenly a woman appeared directly beside Violet, and the pale haired girl jumped at the sight. The woman, who was dressed as a maid, had deathly white skin. Even her lips were white as snow. Her black hair was pulled up into a bun, and her brown eyes were glazed over and lifeless. She was merely a soulless servant of the hotel, conjured up by dark magics. These beings were generally harmless, Violet knew, and she sighed heavily in relief. The maid scanned the floor around Violet slowly and unblinking, looking to do her simple tasks in taking luggage to a room. But Violet didn't have any. "Um...," she started to explain.


"I...," she looked at the demon as if for help. The maid also cast her lifeless eyes towards him in expectation of orders. Just then, the hotel manager appeared. He was a vampire, as old as the castle and just as cold. He was currently overwhelmed with hotel matters and a situation in the kitchen. In his rush, he hardly even noticed there was anyone in the foyer. He ducked behind the counter and grabbed a large binder and a bucket of who knows what before disappearing back in the direction of the kitchen.

 

[Kry]

At first when the maid appeared, Fyren didn't seem to take much notice of her. It was only when both girls were looking at him for direction, did he do anything. "There is no luggage for you to take, however, show this girl to the room she will be using." He had waved a hand slightly, almost in a dismissive manner. "It is just past human lunchtime, so make sure a snack, one suitable for the delicate palate of a human, is prepared for our guest and guide her to the dinning hall once she's ready." His tone was a bit authoritarian-ish as he directed the maid.


Then his attention was on the human girl, as he had ignored the hotel manager completely. "If you need anything further, do not hesitate to ask the staff, it's what they live for after all." Another dismissive gesture, as if he was done with this human and the maid. Fyren had turned from them and started walking off, though he called over his shoulder, "If you have need of me, I am usually found within the library." Then the tall demon was stepping through a door way and continuing on his path to his own destination. Most likely, the library he had mentioned just now.


Fyren loved sitting among the books. He hardly read them anymore, but being in that room always filled him with a sense of inner peace. Especially when he was worried about things. As of late, he had began to worry more and more over the state of the castle, and now he was worrying about that human girl. She had specifically mentioned hearing a pan flute, but that had to be impossible. A deep frown marred his features as he found the intended room and stepped within the library.


He would make his way to a corner, where there were already books piled upon books, arranged in a semi circle. That was Fyren sat, surrounded by the wall of books and a soft sigh left his lips. Just what was he supposed to do in a situation like this? He pulled a book from the stack and opened it to a random page, sitting it in his lap. He didn't read them anymore, his head tilted back slightly and his silver eyes closed, it was generally what he did when he wanted to think long and hard about something.

 

[Malhyanth]

((I hope I can still join even though I can't find a face-capture of my character. I think I design 'em a bit fugly!! I have included a doodle I did for another RP though.))



Wy'Ziot "Bones" Zorek is a werewolf. His human form is a very scarred albino. His wolf form; the same. His dark red eyes flicker like they cannot stay still, and his most prominent of scars runs through the left eye, down the cheek, and ends, puckering his top lip, and pulling his face into a perpetual smirk. His hair/mane is dreadlocked, and has the skulls and bones of smaller animals decorating it, as well as bone beads. When he doesn't have to interact much with human kind, he doesn't generally wear much by way of clothing; a cowl and loincloth from the hide of some animal most likely. He also has a human skull that he wears over his face in human form. When in wolf, he is usually too busy killing and maiming to really feel a need to hide his identity. The 8ft pure white, scarred wolf, walking on its hind legs, with the red eyes, was always going to slim down the suspect pool anyway. As a human, he stands about 6ft 5inches, tall and broad, well muscled; a real manly figure that he isn't afraid to show off. When he needs to enter civilisation, he usually goes for comfort over style; baggy black jeans and a t-shirt, usually with a moon or wolf emblem.



The white wolf of the Eudora Forest was happily stalking through the forest in his human form, heading towards the Hotel that sat within its dark columns. He gathered herbs, barks, mushrooms and various other things as he trudged, his sharp red eyes darting back and forth, keeping sight for any small prey animals he could capture to take as well. His scarred face with wrought with concentration, and whenever something darted across his path, inhuman reflexes kicked in as he threw himself at it, hands wrapping around a variety of necks to wring out the life and snap the spine.


As he neared the Hotel, his belt was laden with pheasant, rabbit, partridge; a few rats and amphibians also hung from his belt if anyone fancied it, any witch or wizard that had a spell that needed something. Herbs in bunches, and balled into pouches. He was truly weighed down with his wears. He was wearing his usual outfit of cowl and loincloth, knowing no human would be in the Hotel. His bare feet were caked in mud, so he tried to rinse them off as he neared the Hotel. The mistress of the place would not be impressed with his muddy foot prints on her fancy carpets and tiles.


As he neared, its gothic architecture reared its head over him suddenly from the tall tree trunks. There was an outside tap in th gardens as he passed through. He stopped by it, and used it to rinse off his arms and legs, just to try and reduce the nature he would bring through with him. As he climbed the steps, he saw the doors were closed. He knew if he stepped in, without announcing, he could be stuck in that grand foyer for far too long!! Lookin about, he found the door bell; the great tolls within made him start a little, before he stood on the top step, and looked over the gardens, admiring their pretty flowers and bedding plants.

 

[poppet]

Left blinking after the demon, with vibrant blue eyes Violet began to feel slightly more uneasy without him around. The maid was already walking up a grand staircase, and Violet hurried after. She was shown to a nicely sized room, as all the rooms here were; though each was specifically tailored to different types of beings as needed, and given a key. Then she was shown to the dining hall. Soon afterwards, food was set before her. She blinked down at it for a moment, before her stomach growled loudly. There wasn't another person in the whole dining hall. Violet supposed that was for the best. She ate quietly, grateful for the time being. But, she'd need to figure out a way to get back to her village.

When she was finished, she decided to take a look around. If her hunch was correct, most of the beings here were asleep, and she only had another couple of hours to look around before she should get back to the safety of her room. After all, humans were not generally accommodated at this hotel, and she would certainly be out of place and quite possibly in danger. She'd eventually need to dig up some information on how to get back through the enchanted forest, which she assumed she could start doing in the library. Perhaps that demon would be there.

Violet was headed for where she thought a library might be. She recalled which direction the demon had gone, so she backtracked to the entrance of the hotel. Just as she arrived, someone knocked on the door. The girl blinked owlishly at it. Did people usually knock to get into a hotel? Violet glanced at the front desk where the manager was still not present. Well, she certainly wasn't going to be the one to open the door for whatever supernatural being would be out there. She wasn't even supposed to be here. All the while she was shaking her head with her arms crossed, a lifeless shell of a maid had moved forward to open the heavy castle door.


It wasn't until the door stood wide open, that Violet noticed and turn her head in the direction of the being standing there. Standing directly in the center of the foyer, she searched quickly for something to hide behind. Oh no, she thought, There isn't anywhere to go! She wondered what kind of being she could lie about being. Certainly not human. Did she smell like a human? Maybe she could pass as a fairy, or a werewolf, or something.

((I'm sorry, I'm so crazy distracted right now. I hope that made at least some kind of sense.))

 

[Malhyanth]

@poppet


The werewolf on the doorstep stretched out his back, waitin for the door to open. Typical bloody place! That demon was probably off flouncing around his books, and the manager off panicking about this and that. Finally, one of the zombie like girls opened the door. He turned and stopped in his tracks. The Collector looked hard at the ghost that seemed to be stood in the foyer of the Hotel. His red eyes narrowed, but he decided what he was seeing must be some illusion of the Castle, so he walked past it, and the maid that had opened the door.


As he stepped through, his bare feet made gentle 'paps' against the marble. His toes scrunched against it for a moment as he stood to survey the further decay of the place, and he tutted, trying very hard to ignore the girl that smelt like herbs, incantations, and humans. He motioned for the maid to follow him, and he started to unload his belt. First, the prey items, food items that the kitchen would appreciate, were plonked wetly on the broad counter.


"I von't take less zhan twenty for zhoshe. Djou can tell djour master I am zhrough vizh 'is games, and 'e is to pay me vhat 'e owes." Next, his hands worked at a multitude of pockets and pouches, and he brought them out one by one, including three frogs of varying species, six rats, and a variety of mushrooms. "Now, listen close, little lady." He leant across the counter, and tapped the maid's forehead as she looked at him with an empty expression. "If djou don't write down my vords, 'ow vill djou tell zhe master? TWENTY! For zhese 'ere food items. Zhese zhough." He indicated the various spice agents, herbs and ingredients. "Zhese are all vorzh zheir own values, and if djou don't 'ave tenants zhat could use zhem, I vill take zhem to zhe village. Zhey 'ave zhat covenant doing all zhe 'ocky pockery, zhinking zhey are clever speaking vizh the Dark Master. OI! Are you listening, sveet'eart?" He sighed exasperated, and followed the gaze of the maid to the girl that was still stood in the foyer. He frowned, and looked back to the maid. He sighed with exasperation, and started to sweep his items to the side, one of the rabbits leaving a blood trail from its nose.


"I'm zorry, are djou real? Zhe maid, she vaits for djou, as djou vere clearly 'ere first to talk to 'er, yes?" He gazed her over, his scarred, sneering face splitting wider into a true sneer, rather than just the shape his lip comfortably sat. He turned, leaning his back against the counter as his scratched idly as his bare, toned stomach, looking her over. His eyes appraised her form. "No... vait... she looks to djou as djou ARE from zhat village, aren't djou. I knew djou smelt odd as I valked in." He pushed off the counter, his strong, slender hands raising around her, lifting a lock of her hair, as white as his own, to sniff, but he refrained the temptation to lick behind her ear; that's how you REALLY got to know someone, after all!! That's where their tastes and smells gathered most! He stood in front of her, drawing to his full height, scarred arms crossed over a scarred chest as he grinned, revealing slightly sharper teeth than one might expect. His head tilted in a way, reminiscent of a domestic dog assessing something new. "Vhat is djour name, sveet'eart?"

 

[Kry]

@Malhyanth @poppet ][Silly Poppet, Fyren's eyes are silver not blue, if I mentioned them being blue at some point I didn't mean to. They supposed to be silver. lol. ][


Fyren was settled comfortably, with a book pulled into his lap and open to random page, his head tilted back and those eyes were closed. Yes, this was Fyren's thinking face. Though thinking was doing nothing but giving him a headache, as there wasn't really much of anything he could do about any of the things he was thinking about. It didn't matter, he still sat there and thought. Eventually he just cleared his mind and sat there relaxing, not thinking of anything at all. Until the gong sounded.


It was the door bell but in Fyren's opinion, the way it echoed through the castle, it might as well have been a massive gong. Silver eyes popped open, and he wondered how long he had been sitting there. Hours probably. He picked up the book from his lap and put it in a random place of the stack, and stretched a bit before he stood. Standing at his full long legged height of almost six feet. A hand lifted and scratched the back of his head lightly as he wondered who might've rang the gong. The only beings that could've come upon the castle, other than the odd lost human girl already here, were creatures from the forest.


Fyren shuddered, most of those creatures would not ring the bell. There was one though. Fyren let out a heavy sigh, and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, then straightened his clothing. Ran a hand through his hair, and then began the long walk from the library to the foyer. It wasn't a very long walk, but as it was, Fyren didn't show up until the moment where that white werewolf was touching the human girl. His wings twitched slightly and he remained silent for the moment, just watching. When the wolf asked the girl for her name, Fyren made a slight throat clearing noise.


"Does it matter what she's called?" Those long legs carried him forward, coming to stand close to the werewolf. Fyren had to look up slightly at him, he was a little taller than the demon. Fyren didn't mind the difference in height, at least, not too much. "She lost her way in the fog, and now she is a guest until such a time as she can be taken back to her quaint village." Fyren's tone was one of indifference, but he did notice the goods the were wolf had brought. That tongue flicked out to lick his lips. He was hungry for fresh, raw meat.


The demon moved to reach for the rabbits. "As per usual, I trust this will be added to the Lord's tab?" It was phrased like a question, but intended more as a statement. "I assure you, you will be rewarded a hefty sum upon his return." Fyren wondered how long he could keep this game up. He had no idea if Lord Vanderheim would ever return, or if he was even still alive. However, Fyren would get away with this game for as long as he could. One hand slipped into a pocket and he pulled out a few coins. About three silver ones. "I trust this will be sufficient to tide you over until such time as everything can be paid in full?" Fyren's wings twitched a bit.

 

[poppet]

Violet stood frozen as she watched the being step through the door to the foyer. As he stepped into the light, her eyes widened in surprise of his appearance. Was that a dead animal, belt? He passed by her as she stared at him in a fascinated sort of horror. She grimaced at the wet slap the bloodied animals made against the counter. What in the world...? She found his accent hard to follow, but gathered that he was here to sell off the animals, herbs and such that he had unloaded. She was still grimacing as he slid the animals to the side and turned his gaze to her. Probably she should have left while he was busy, but she loitered in wide wonder and now he was gawking. She couldn't help but frown lightly. Of course she was real. Did not real people often frequent this place? Probably.

Suddenly though, he was calling her out on being from a nearby village, and her scent. Oh no! So she was easily found out. Her frown deepened, but then he was approaching her. He reached out and picked up a lock of her hair before she knew it, and brought it to his nose. "Hey!" she'd started to protest. One couldn't just go getting into someone else's personal space and sniffing their hair. It was terrible manners, and downright creepy! But then he stood significantly taller than her and she really looked at his face, and decided she'd probably be better off just keeping the bit about him being creepy to herself. Had he been less intimidating, she'd have likely slapped his hand away.

"My name?" she mumbled. Before she had time to process whether or not she'd give that information out so freely, the demon appeared. Quickly he got to business. Violet couldn't help but overhear, obviously she was standing there. She wondered who the Lord of this castle was. Was it the rumored vampire from the legends? When would he return? It was likely she really didn't want to be here for that homecoming. She blinked owlishly as the demon pulled coins from his pocket. It was certainly a sour deal. For all of those animals and herbs, plus an apparent tab? Violet couldn't help but shake her head lightly as she crossed her arms. If she were this werewolf, she'd take her product and go elsewhere. Then again, where was elsewhere for beings like this?

 

[Malhyanth]

@Kry @poppet


The werewolf grinned heartily at the girl, reading full well on her expressive face what she thought of him, and he winked at her. She was pretty. He liked them pretty. She looked stunned that he knew where she was from, but from her smells, to him, it was obvious. He tracked using his nose, so how would he not know? It wasn't often magical humans visited, and and she looked so similar to the first that had entered. Hadn't that woman come from the same village? When the demon arrived, as if on cue, his grin faded and he rolled his eyes, turning his back to the girl in the foyer, and placing his strong hands against the counter, leaning heavily against it as he looked, red eyes, to silver ones.


"Look, bub. Djou know I don't mind zhis arrangement. I 'ave little need for zhe cash. It is useful, sure, but I live off zhe land more. I just need it for vhen I re-enter zhe civilised world." Bones cast a look over his shoulder at the girl. "Vhich it seems I 'ave done inadvertently today." He spread out the goods once more as it was clear the girl wasn't intending to speak with them for any reason. He picked up the fresh rabbit, and waggled it at the demon, its head lolling about where the hunter had snapped it cleanly.


"I vill take djour coins. And I vill add to zhe tab. But I get to spend a few free days 'ere. I'll even do some extra vork, tidy zhe grounds. Zhey are looking most disheveled." He held out a hand, much larger than the tall, but dainty, demon's own. His grin was wicked as he glanced over his shoulder at the girl. "Djou don't mind if I get to know zhe new guest, right? I'm sure I may be able to 'elp get 'er 'ome. After all, I trade vizh zhe vitches zhere sometimes." He hand rose to the pendant at his throat, a small song bird skull, and he ran his hand over the thick dreadlocks of his hair, pushing back the bone decorated braids.


"My name is Vy'Ziot. But many 'ere call me Zhe Collector, or Bones. Djou. Djou may choose." Again he winked, and pushed off from the desk. He looked at the demon with a serious face for a moment. "I trust my room upstairs is untouched, Vyren. I don't vant djou sneaking in to steal my stuff anymore. Djou know my clozhes don't fit you!" He laughed jovially as he waved a hand at the demon, took the girl's hand and kissed it lightly with a wink and mumur of "my lady", before his bare feet 'pap-pap'-ed their way across the marble to the extravagant staircase. He climbed these a few at a time, leaving his wears on the counter.

 

[Kry]

@Malhyanth @poppet 


Fyren nodded a bit as the werewolf spoke, but those silver eyes watched the rabbit that was waggled at him. That tongue flicking out to lick his lips once more, but he easily concentrated on what was being said. That gaze shifted from rabbit to wolf to girl then back to the wolf during the conversation. A thoughtful glance was given to the girl. She would definitely need help getting home, and Fyren had no problem with allowing the wolf that pleasure. Knowing full well that the girl might never make it home, but it was a risk the demon was willing to take.


"I care not for what you do or who you get to know, but she is human, and they are fragile things. So do be careful, and if you decide to eat her, do not do it within these walls." His tone was one of disinterest, and when that hand was held out, Fyren dropped the coins into that large hand. Glancing at the girl for a moment before his attention returned to the wolf. Fyren hardly liked that serious expression on that werewolf's face, and he frowned slightly. At the words spoken, Fyren rolled his silver eyes a bit.


Fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, and he watched Bones walk away, Fyren called after him. "It was only the one time and no one has been in your room since. Though I assure you, again, no one was stealing anything, your clothes were being taken to laundry. They did and still do stink of dead animal." A look of disdain passed across the tall demons features for just a moment, and then he sighed softly. Fyren turned towards the counter where the prizes that hunter had brought them lay, and with a few words he gave the soulless maid her instructions.


All of it was to be taken to the kitchen, where others suited for specific tasks could have everything prepared, Fyren also instructed her that a meal of the rabbit should be made for him. A meal that would mainly just be, raw rabbit meat. Those things done, his attention turned to the girl. He had been more or less rude, mostly ignoring her in that conversation as if she hadn't been there at all. Fyren also couldn't decide how he felt about that werewolf taking such interest in the girl. The demon almost wanted to protect her, she resembled Rosalind so much.

 

[poppet]

She wasn't sure why or really what sort of deals this pair had been making or for how long, but it wasn't really any of her business. It wasn't until the werewolf spoke of helping Violet get home that her interest really piqued. He had done business with witches in her village? Then there was no doubt he'd done business with her family. She didn't get along with them and didn't work with them. They dealt in dark magics, something she was against.

His bone decorations rattled around as he moved his dreads, and he introduced himself. "I'm Violet," she said with a friendly though somewhat cautious smile. He seemed helpful, maybe useful, but a human girl would have to be smart in a place like this. When he grabbed her hand and kissed it, she blinked owlishly. Soon he was walking away, and she blinked after him as he disappeared up the stairs, the demon calling after him. She nodded in agreement though. Wy'Ziot needed a bath without a doubt.

Violet cast her eyes on the demon as he instructed the soulless servant and waited until he was done. "Could you show me the library?" she asked him, lost in a sudden thought. Little did she know, her witch ancestor Rosalind used to spend a lot of time in the library. But Violet hoped to find some clues as to how to travel safely through the enchanted forest. If not, she'd have no other choice but to ask Wy'Ziot. But, the demon had made that joke about her being eaten... Surely it was a joke. She recalled his indifferent tone and shuddered. Yes, she definitely wanted to try to find a way home on her own. If anything else, she might get lucky enough to find some spells to help her appear less human.

 

[Kry]

@poppet


Fyren watched the werewolf move off further into the castle, before letting his attention rest fully on the girl. When she asked about the library, he stared at her with his silver eyes. Long and hard, as if struggling with his decision. Rosalind had used to spend much time in that library, perhaps it was another reason why Fyren sought solace in that room so often. His body tensed a bit, his wings twitched slightly, and a light sigh passed his lips. He seemed to be sighing an awful lot lately.


"Of course, the library is open to guests." Though his tone was reluctant, as if he didn't really want to share that room with her. He could have kept her from it, he was sure, but somehow that just felt...wrong. "This way." His lips twitched into a slight frown, those wings of his twitching again as he began moving. Long legs carried him quickly, and the girl would have to be quick to keep up with him, even though the library was a good ways from the foyer. Fyren would glance over his shoulder periodically to make sure the girl didn't lag to far behind him.


Finally he would stop at the doors to the library. It was a big room, and as such, the entryway was two large double doors. After a moments hesitation, he opened them gently. Once they were open, he stepped inside, heading immediately towards his corner at the far wall, where that stack of books arranged in a semi-circle was. Fyren settled himself down in that spot, surrounded on three sides by the books, and his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.


He pulled a random book into his lap, opened it to a random page and looked at the girl. "Don't break anything." His tone was dark. It was a warning. There was a table and chair off to one side of the room with a desk lamp on it, but Fyren much preferred the floor and his circle of books. The human could use the desk if she wanted, he really didn't care, but he would keep a careful eye on her.

 

[poppet]

He was reluctant, and that was obvious. Though Violet did wonder why, it was momentary. The silver eyed demon was already moving briskly away. She followed, having to work at keeping up with his stride. She didn't even have much of a chance to look around, but was fairly certain she could recall how to get there again if she needed to. When they arrived at the library she naturally continued following him, until he stopped in a back corner where he made himself comfortable in a semicircle of books. Then he warned her not to break anything. She frowned lightly. As if breaking things was her purpose here. "Thanks," she mumbled, almost sarcastically.


Violet began searching through the books immediately. There had to be thousands at least, some new, some old. Some books were in languages she'd never seen before of races from the dark world. By the time Violet had gathered things she was interested in, at least an hour had passed. She had books stacked on the desk and a few unfolded paper items. She hadn't even made it to one side of the library, but this was a start. One of the old books had concealed an area map, with a large portion of what appeared to be the Eudora Forest. But the language written on it was foreign to her.


One of the books was a grimoire, though she was having a hard time reading some of the faded writings. It looked as if, at some point, the book had sustained some water damage. She'd found an old guest book, also with a lot of languages she couldn't read. When she opened it up, something like a drawn map fell out from between some pages. It had been scribbled on a scrap piece of paper and made almost no sense. There were just lines and numbers and a big shape at the end of them.

By nightfall, Violet would be asleep among the books and papers with a cheek rested against the grimoire. It was open to a disguise spell, but a portion of it was smudged away. Her pale hair would be draped over her back and messed over the desk. She'd still have a feather pen in her hand and would likely remain there for many hours unless happened upon, though she'd be angry at herself later, knowing she needed to be back in her room by nightfall.

 

[Malhyanth]

The werewolf busied himself in his "human den" as he called it. It was decorated quite primary; part of the reason the demon and his staff had been forced to enter previously! Animal pelts ranged everywhere, from the floor, to the pile on a cushion and pillow bed piled in a corner, to drapped over tables, chairs, and trunks. Display cases held bones and taxidermy specimens, all formed by Wy'Ziot. The pelts too, were his own creation. The room had a musty smell to it; a natural smell. It was a blend of his own musk, the scents of the pelts and specimens, and the smell of the drying herbs hung along one wall on a vast, rotating drying rack. This room was a haven for "The Collector", the tradesman and travelling hunter. "Bones", or Wy'Ziot, was the man, or the wolf, that stalled the halls, interacted on a more sociable level, and spent weeks at a time living feral in the forest.


He was a loner; his pack had been hunted near to extinction. As a child, he'd been found by Rosalind, and brought to the hotel to recuperate; many of his oldest scars would be far more ugly now, if Rosalind hadn't found him. Man was an odd thing, and despised that which was different; the albino was definitely that!! As he stepped into the den, he breathed in the scents of the room and looked about, making certain things hadn't moved. Satisfied, he stripped his meagre coverings; things for modesty's sake, which today had certainly been useful considering the human girl he'd found in the lobby. Ah yes, that pretty little face. He smiled to himself as he scratched his toned stomach and headed to his en suite. This was much more grandiose and modern. Inside, a bath had already been draw; probably from when he'd first stepped into the hotel! Did he really smell that bad?


Getting in gingerly, he almost melted into the clinging heat, the scented oils cloying in his nostrils, but the scents of lavender, chamomile and sage were welcome scents, and he carefully scrubbed at his filthy figure. Muscles he hadn't realised were tense from the wild living slowly released, and he sighed enjoyably. He carefully washed his white dreads, working around the ornaments carefully. He assessed new scars, tended to not quite healed wounds, and drained the filthy water, not drying himself as he walked back into his den. He rummaged through a chest, and found a pair of baggy jeans, and a torn up t-shirt with a wolf on it, in a tribalistic design. He liked this shirt, and was annoyed the last time he'd changed whilst still in his "civilised gear" as he called it, had caused such damage. He pulled on the jeans, thinking only after maybe, with how low they stuck to his hips, he should have put on underwear. He wasn't used to this "restrictive clothing" malarkey!! He shrugged, and took the torn shirt to his work bench.


On its broad back of oak, a dummy of a jay in flight sat, the skull and legs of the actual bird used, glass eyes moulded into play with clay, the skin was currently still sat in a damp cloth filled jar. He'd forgotten it when he last left, so he checked the skin. Luckily, he'd had the presence of mind to seal it with wax, so though it had a slight sickly smell, once it was on the dummy and drying, it should hold the feathers still, and make a good specimen! His mind now preoccupied with this thought, he lay the t-shirt he'd intended to stitch upon his bedding, and he set to work, drying the feathers, checking the skin, then slowly, careful not to dislodge the feathers from their follicles, he laid the skin over the form, and settled it expertly into place. A few stitches were made to close the skin over the new dummy body, and the damp feathers were worked to make them sit naturally. He took some wire from a holder on his bench, and carefully molded it in his fingers, so it would sit perfectly in the shape he wanted the wings to dry at. He folded the wire into place on the little bird, and then leant back. The eyes were hard, and stared back at their creator. He hummed a little, satisfied. He looked to the window, and started a little as his stomach set up an almighty racket!! He'd been here far longer than he'd intended!!


Grabbing his shirt, he hastily threw some stitches into the parts of the shirt that would reveal a little more flesh than he was wanting with this "civilised look". The tear from neck line to armpit, for example. The lower hem that was hanging limply from front to back. The two parallel tears in the back. There were a few poked holes, a few small tears, but these were ok. He stuck this over his head and pulled it down. He grumbled; it didn't really cover much of his midriff, what with the way these trousers hung on his lithe form, but it would do. He didn't bother with socks, or shoes, or slippers. He had feet like leather, from his years of walking in the forest barefoot. He wasn't about to start using those restrictive things now!


The Collector took leave of his room, and followed his nose. His feet 'pap-pap' against the marble echoed through the halls. He was quite appalled at the cobwebs and dust that had accumulated!! What did those brain dead maids do all day? Surely they should be making a bit more of an effort!! Looking about as he reached the grand, sweeping staircase, he listened hard for a moment. No demon!! He clapped his hands together, and leapt up onto the bannister, with a bit of speed, so he slid all the way down on his backside. The dust that came away on his black jeans when he hit the bottom was atrocious!! His once black jeans were now a pale gray in a strip across the seat of his trousers!! Saves the maid a job, he supposed!! He'd have to do the other one later, when the demon wasn't about to tell him it was disrespectful!! He dusted his butt down, and waved to the gormless maid on the counter; she was tying twine around the herbs he'd brought; the ones for spells and potions. Clearly, he'd had a bit of a surge in requests!! He'd get the demon to show him the shopping lists next time he went to leave!


Following his nose, the vanilla-y scent of old books, the village scents of the girl, the strange, tangy scent of demon, he followed their trail through corridors and doorways till he entered the library. The girl was in plain sight in one of the comfy chairs at a broad desk, much like the one in his room. The demon was probably in his little nest of books, meditating on all his thoughts. Out of politeness, he coughed loudly, to announce himself, padding his way across to the girl to give her a gentle poke of the shoulder.


"'Ey. Did zhey not tell djou books don't vork zhrough ozmosis?" He chuckled in a friendly manner, before pulling up a chair, spinning it backwards and straddling it. He pulled the open book towards himself, more for any pictures, as he'd never actually been taught to read. Rosalind had tried, when he was a child, but had deemed him a hopeless case, far more suited to working with his hands, in nature, then being cooped up inside. He'd been a difficult child, feral and wild. He'd only say and attempted to read to get Rosalind to read to him. She had been a good Carer when he was an orphaned wolf cub.


"So, little lady! 'Ave djou eaten yet? I 'ear zhis place cooks a mean steak. Do djou like steak? Obviously I do, I mean come on, what do djou zhink I am? But seriously, I'm starving." He looked around for Fyren. "Demon!! Vhere are djou? Come on, chef vill vant to feed us, I'm sure of it!!!" The cheeky grin given to the sleepy lass was pure fun. Though the scars to his face certainly didn't make it easy to interpret, the expression to his eyes certainly spoke what his face wanted to!! The lifted lip where the scar bit into it revealed more of his slightly sharper than normal teeth, his slightly longer canines.

 

[poppet]

It was when she felt a nudge on her shoulder that her vibrant blue eyes cracked open. Immediately she heard Wy'Ziot, speaking something about osmosis. She sat up and yawned and rubbed at her neck that felt sore from her uncomfortable sleep position at the desk. Blinking down at the books and notes, she sighed. "I haven't gotten anywhere with these things," she mumbled, though she was certain she would if she kept trying. And so she would.

She declined what seemed like an invitation to eat. "I ate just before I came to the library," she said, yawning again. She did observe the other for a moment though, not realizing that his question had likely been rhetorical. Sharp teeth, big light mane... "A lion, man...?" It may have been obvious to beings in this world, but in hers, he was mythical. While there were stories of werewolves, each story made them out to be different from the others. Some didn't have a human form in the least. Some were always human, but wolves on a full moon only. Some were even spirit closet dwellers. It really varied from family to family in her village.

Violet wondered where he'd gotten so many scars as he yelled for the demon. The demon. Surely he had a name, too. No matter. With Violet's confidence, she assumed she'd be headed home by tomorrow. Names weren't too important in a realm she'd likely never see again. She pushed away from the table and stood, folding the Eudora Forest map and stuffing it inside the grimoire. Violet intended on returning them to library at sunrise, but for now, she was safest in her own room. Unbeknownst to her, the grimoire had been Rosalind's and if she could complete the smudged parts of spells, she'd likely be able to do more than she ever imagined.

"Surely it won't be a problem if I borrow these," she mumbled to herself. "I think I'll return to my room for the night Wy'Ziot," she said, giving him a tired but friendly smile as she moved to walk away.

 

[Kry]

@Malhyanth @poppet


Fyren had been keeping a careful eye on the girl as she perused the books, if she ever did happen to look over at him, he wouldn't pretend to look away. The demon didn't care if she knew he was blatantly watching or not, his wings would twitch occasionally, gently bumping the stacks of books around him, but not hard enough to make them fall. When the girl had finally fallen asleep, Fyren let himself get lost in his thoughts. Pondering much the same things he had pondered earlier that day, and things he had pondered about even days before.


No answers to the things that troubled him could be found, not in his own mind, no matter how hard he meditated or concentrated on it. His silver eyes had been closed as he meditated, but when he heard the werewolf enter the library, those eyes opened immediately. The silver orbs narrowed slightly as he watched Bones wake the girl, speaking of food and such. Fyren realized he was rather hungry, he should have gone to meal before now, but it wasn't the first time he had missed a meal due to silent meditation. He highly doubted it would be the last time as well. That tongue flicked out to lick his lips, but the demon didn't move.


Fyren was content to remain there for a while, or until the two left to go their own way to the dinning room. However, the werewolf called out to him, and gently Fyren put the book that was in his lap back onto one of the many stacks around him before standing. He stepped away from that stack of books, and stretched, his arms high over his head and those wings flaring out behind him for a moment. His bones made a slight popping noise here and there as he stretched, and his muscles worked themselves a bit loose from sitting in that position. For the most part, Fyren's body was acclimated and used to sitting in that position or similar ones for hours.


A slight smirk appeared on his lips for a moment when the human called the werewolf a lion man, it was amusing, but that amusement was short lived as Fyren approached them and noticed the book she still held in her arms. A frown replaced the smirk. "Bones is a werewolf, and I'll let him eat you for dinner if you take that book out of this room." That tone was dangerous as well as a bit strained, his words were a promise and not a mere threat. That book had been Rosalind's. It was her Grimoire. Fyren moved quickly, coming to stand in front of Violet and plucking the book from her grasp, firmly but gingerly.


He would bring that book to his chest, holding it close, as if it were some precious object made of glass. "There are a few books that I will not allow out of this room, this is one of them. It will be waiting for you here when you need it again." He then moved around her, going to place the book on the desk, as he did so he ran a hand almost longingly along the front cover. Fingertips lingering there for a moment as he stepped away from both desk and book. His silver eyes turned to the werewolf.


Fyren's body was tense though, his lips pressed in a thin line, his jaw set hard as he grit his teeth the slightest bit. It would be clear to those with sharp perception that the idea of that book, or any of Rosalind's things leaving any of the rooms they were in, upset Fyren greatly. He was attempting to hide this from the human girl though. His wings twitched rapidly for a moment in agitation, as if to further emphasize his mood. "Come along, wolf, as you said, it is time to eat." His tone sounded a bit strained and a bit tired, at least to trained ears, as he tried to keep hidden how upset he was. It was such a tiny thing to get upset over.


Rosalind had been a dear friend to him, and perhaps he had even loved her, but he would never admit to such. He would have never risked losing his friendship with Lord Vanderheim and Rosalind both over something like that.

 

[Ain't Nobody Like Me~]

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Molly wasn't your average purple-haired girl. She was born human, but a witch named, Rosalind, was it? Well, Rosalind turned her into a shape shifter, then whispered "Guard your life darling, you have a gift." And that was the last that Molly ever heard from Rosalind. When she asked her parents who Rosalind was, her parents
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Molly Collins
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{Spot saver. I'll finish later. I'm still in school at the moment}
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