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 Posted: Sun Feb 06, 2011 7:35 pm
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His Lord Grey
As his company sat in the common room, he motioned towards the tea signifying that it would be alright to drink. He sat behind the grand piano, playing softly as the siblings played out their little quarrel. The moment he heard the mention of his death, his mind snapped its attention over to the boy. Death, he said softly yet loud enough to be heard, would be a welcomed gift for this one... I would be highly impressed if one such as you, however, possessed the ability to claim what does not belong to even I... He continued to play the piano, still softly, when he looked over at Miss Miri. Miss Miri, he said, Your brother, I believe you stated he was, is a very violent fellow... I suppose this is due to past experiences, no? |
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Posted: Sun Feb 06, 2011 7:43 pm
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Posted: Sun Feb 06, 2011 8:01 pm
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Posted: Sun Feb 06, 2011 9:26 pm
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His Lord Grey
The man looked at her warmly, she seemed of decent intelligence. This come become of some use in the future... As he thought to himself, his eyes drifted back over to the wall of paintings. There were at lest six paintings there. As before mentioned, the paintings either displayed a portrait of a man in white identical to Mr. Dorian Grey or of a group of people with that same man in white either in the group or somewhere in the background. The paintings were each of the finest quality. And of the same brushstrokes. This meant that they were created by the same artist each time. One thing, however, was not the same in each painting. That would be the clothing style. As one would study the paintings, they would notice that in the next painting, the style of clothing would progress one hundred years into the future. Well, towards the present. The first painting had the style of those being alive 500 years ago. The next 400, then 300, 200, 100, and finally one from around the present day. One would also notice that in the first three paintings, a group of people was visible. As if it was of a party. But in each one with a group, the next would always have one less person. This went on until the final two had only a man in white. One identical to Mr. Dorian Grey... Suddenly, Dorian snapped back to, focusing on his guests. My dears, he said kindly, as if he never zoned out to begin with, How fair your appetites? It does not appear to the eyes of mine that you have yet been to eat. Would you care to linger a while longer and dine with myself? It has been such a dreadfully long time since I last shared a meal with another... Without waiting for an answer, he was already herding them through another set of ancient doors made of wood. They entered into a beautiful dining room. Crystaline wine glasses lined a table long enough to sit nine people comfortable. Food was already set about, as if prepared a while back. All sorts of fowl and mammalian meat was set out. Two three candle holding candle sticks were already lit and upon the table. Dorian motioned for the two ladies to sit in the seats next to the head of the table at the far end. A fireplace, unlit, was nestled behind the head seat where Lord Dorian himself took a seat. A tray next to him, though not their before, was waiting for them as if it was indeed there before. Upon the tray was a variaty of drinks contained in pitchers. These drinks ranged from wine and champagne all the way to fruit juice, water, and soda. Lord Dorian had a whimsical smile upon his face, as if the enjoyment of others was exciting him even more. |
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Posted: Mon Feb 07, 2011 1:19 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 07, 2011 9:59 pm
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Posted: Tue Feb 08, 2011 8:47 pm
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His Lord Grey
Oblivious to her words, Dorian approached the repaired vase. Remarkable, he whispered, that ice be created at such a low temperature... I wonder... As he said those final words, he tapped the vase. This, of course, caused the not yet stable conditions of the magic to fall apart, shattering the vase once more. Oh dear, he said to himself, ah, it was just a nasty old vase. Out with the old, in with the new! Ahahaha! How ironic were his words... He turned around, facing the newcomer. Dear, if you are hungry, I am more than capable of feeding you. |
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Posted: Tue Feb 08, 2011 10:49 pm
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Posted: Wed Feb 09, 2011 7:46 am
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Feb was walking through the woods when she found the manor. She didn't remeber how she got there or why, but she was feeling tired and felt the house calling to her. She climbed through a window and fell into the living room. As soon as she entered the room she was filled with so many emotions: anger, excitement, joy, sadness, loneliness, and many more she could not describe. She was not used to feeling so many things at one time. As she sat on the floor, she rubbed her head trying to calm herself down. The only explanation she could think of was that there were other people in the house and all their emotions were rushing through her body. She heard the faint noise of people talking coming from somewhere in the manor and tried to follow it. As she got up she tripped on something and knocked over a vase. 