June 14, 2015:
Darque and Ivy have a meeting of minds.
//Lafayette //
Characters
NPCs: None.
Mentions:
Plot:
Mood Music: None.
Fade In…
Lafayette was once a French-Canadian settlement within Metropolis in its founding days. A very Gaulish influence resides in this quarter of Bakerline. French is a popular language, many of the residents speak it as their first and its population grew sizably since 05' and what transpired down south. This only added to the culture with the influx. Little N'awlins many have called it. A slice of home away from home for a good number of wayward souls.
Master Darque himself one such individual. Though, his reasons for grounding himself in what he knows are adverse to what others might. His reason for being within a place that mirrors his childhood? Hatred, loathing, spite. It fuels him with the continued reminder of his malice. Spurs on his ill intent. Keeps him strong but also gives him that small taste of emotion hed so long ago numbed himself to.
Located inside the neighborhood hidden away in the older district is a series of close together estates that old wealth would own. One of these, is what Doctor Pamela Isley stands before. A large three story Colonial style mansion with a barren and dead garden around it, the pillars off the front porch towering to hold the roof aloft above the first and second floors. The gates open automatically by mechanical methods and not mystical or unseen forces awaiting them is a lean bodied man in a black suit, shoulder-length blond hair and handsome features with striking blue eyes.
"Welcome Doctor Isley or do you prefer Poison Ivy?" No life. This place is sheathed in anti-life. The plants do not sing here. The woman no doubt felt this entropic force before she even spied the gates of Darque Estates.
Dressing down helps when you're an internationally known criminal by eco-trade and other wiles; especially when it came to a business venture that possibly or maybe not suit her fancy. Suits, slacks and heels, coat tugged and snugged neatly with hair bunned up with curls. Glasses hang upon the bridge of her nose, green eyed gaze pressed towards the man who enters, even though the smile remain pressed upon his features there was a void there that nearly.. to her own ears, seemed almost monotone. The environs match the sound she hears. If it wasn't lively it wasn't dug.
But it was enough to draw the sharp woman off guard, the entire void that rocked this place brought about a silence that was welcome and not. Lets face it, she didn't know how to feel about this change of events. And subtly brought her hand inside of her pant-pocket to pinch a thick portion of her thigh with a dig of a nail. Nope. Still awake.
"Doctor Isley to you." She states, eyes narrowing and soon chin lifts haughtily as she saunters pass, heels beating against the concrete with a steady click, jaw tense as eyes roam the property in an effort to listen and cajole life into the green. Perhaps, it was better this way.
"Very well, Doctor Isley. You may call me Lionel or Mister Devereaux… " A slow once over of the woman and Lionel turns away from her and in to the dark entryway, "This way if you would." The inside one might have expected nightmarish gargoyles and dark occultic artwork, not the case, it is rather nicely furnished inside though no plants again and the dust is evident. This may look to be someones home but it is very much not lived in. "My master is extending a great amount of trust your direction or a considerable lack of fear. Whichever of those two you wish to take but this is actually quite a sacred abode known to very few." The walk through the hallways stops at the servants door that leads underneath the stairwell, the man opens it and ducks inside a flashlight flicked on as he begins to make his way down the very close cut stonework. That sense of anti-life becomes more pervasive, stronger the deeper they get, the old smell of dirt about the closest she'll feel of her lovely green kindred.
"Watch your footing it is quite steep in places." Quite steep is an understatement as they get several dozens of feet below the level of the manors basement and still find themselves descending, a cavern lies below. Torches begin to light up and the after a certain point but Devereaux does not put his flashlight away.
Ivy gives a clear nod in agreement to the man, obviously a servant. One of the many few who were good looking and impossibly unavailable but to only serve their Master's whims. Whatever designs she think she'd have were tossed out immediately. There was no time for a tug and pull even if it'd only be for just a night. But, business. Her gait was impossibly cool and calm even though everything about this screamed alarm. The further she descended into the manor, the more silence was had. Perhaps, such a place as this could serve as a welcome vacation; the torment that goes on betwixt the ears are often times not, too much to bear.
"Trust and fear. Both are equally flattering." She admits, a small smile drawing upon slightly pink lips. "It is almost like hiding in plain sight. This is all very clever, of this Master Darque."
But silence was had, her hands finally drawing out to press against the wall, each steep and step that she takes has her mentally singing with regret. And soon once at the bottom? Shoes were ejected by the press of toe to heel to kick the cheapened shoes aside. Never wear anything pricey when you think you're about to get your feet wet.
"How much longer do we have to go?" There was annoyance and curiousity there, but there was also something guarded in the background. Ivy didn't like this one bit.
"Necessity I am sure." Lionel responds as the stairwell finally hits an island in the center of the cavern network.
"We are there."
Darkness. Absolute black surrounds the isle in the center of the cave not even her guide's flashlight can pierce it. A scream or wail can be heard far off, something beyond the shadow moves, as though the pitch was an ocean and something beneath it's surface just created ripples or waves. Sound also does not penetrate after a certain point. They stand now just the two of them in an abyss. The stairs have been swallowed behind them. Lionel flicks off the light and turns to smile at Ivy, hands tucked behind his back now. "The light offends some of the residents." Though, despite him removing their only source of illumination there is still a faint glow around them keeping the center dias lit just enough to see. Faint wisps that float around and drift back and forth.
Glasses were soon drawn down from the bridge of her nose as she stands adjacent to the man. The path itself was a dark one, and there were no need to keep eyes and visage sharp within the walls. She could feel that much at least. But she could also feel the poisons tingling beneath her fair skin, drawing the colors to swirl around her cheek, as hands lift to tuck and preen her hair to keep the tickled wisps from her neck. If something approaches from behind? No distraction from the tiny hairs that stand were needed. She had to adjust, to attune to her surroundings.
"Residents." She mutters faintly, hooking the ear of the pair of spectacles within her top. Demons. Or perhaps something darker. The green eyes seem a little bit more prominent in this light, eyes narrowing into faint slits as she eyes the wisps with the need to step forward, hand reaching out.. bleeding green through the flesh with the need to touch and possibly fell whatever it was within the wind just to see what would happen. Wisely, she withdraws, but she does take a step closer, confident. Yes. But uncertain.