keep T H I S a secret | open |

[LUCIUS DAVID SALISBURY.]

LUCIUS SALISBURY

A finely built gentleman was standing in his nearly knee high riding boots by a placid stream. He was exquisitely dressed for the time; money displayed with such levity it was almost sickening. But that was how the gentleman, Lucius, was; showing off his beyond generous amounts of monetary materials at any point in time. But really, what did you expect of a powerful figure? Even such a question as that leads to another, though. How did a man with such youth become so powerful in an old county? Lucius would claim that to be a secret of grandeur and he only indulges to tell the secrets of others. Not his own. In the afternoon light, silver spurs at his heels glittered with every movement of the young male. Pale cream riding pants masked the lower half of his scandalously handsome frame while a gray, light blue, and black plaid vest clung to his torso beneath the ebony jacket. Black gloves protected his strongly veined hands from whatever he may encounter out in the countryside. On top of his skull, a black hat crowned him. Gold collar studs, cuff links, and buttons accented the entire outfit into visual perfection.

Beside the average sized male was a chocolate and obsidian hued equine stud. The steed, George, was clearly of some of the finest linage but that did not mean that he was perfect. Lucius had always favored the title George because King George was his most favorite ruler up until this point and so he named his favorite mount after the late king. How he has lived long enough to see King George rule is another matter. George, a majestically crafted horse-fellow, had been Lucius' companion for six years now. The bay charger was of two origins, Yorkshire carriage stud and a good old English Thoroughbred dam. George was only distinguishable by a faint scar running down his right shoulder from an accident in the field. Lucius made sure that George was taken care of and in the most pristine condition possible. George's tack was the finest leather available with the Salisbury crest nailed into the durable material.

The pair had paused by the stream to rest from their midday hack. The braided leather was held in the gentleman's gloved right hand as his friend drank from the cool water source. It was quite a bit colder than it was in recent months but the man had dressed for the weather and he had allowed his steed's own coat to lengthen accordingly. He didn't allow his companion steed to drink the icy liquid for very long for fear of him getting an internal chill out here. "Let us continue on our way, George, and find ourselves an adventure to brighten the winter gloom." He spoke in quiet and hushed tones to the animal before swinging up into the leather saddle lightly. For a solid man, he moved with a grace that even a woman could not maintain. It was nearly unnatural, perhaps even supernatural. But only fools believed in supernatural things, of course, if you didn't include vampires and werewolves into that category. The young gent cued his steed into an easy, naturally animated three beat. It had yet to snow and sincerely freeze over here in England but the colder temperatures were looming in the night now. With a self set crown, he allowed George to work unhindered by his inquiries. The only gestures in their silent conversation was a shift of the gent's weight and a mere adjustment of posture. By no means were they blazing a new trail for the race horses to challenge though. They were simply two friends out for a January joust of leisurely pleasures.



character | lucius david salisbury.
character mood | calm, pleasant.
author | fang.
author's muse | decent.
author's music | victorian era music composed by Pandora.
author's word count | six hundred and seventeen.
author's notes | first post isn't so fabulous x.o next one will be better. let me know if i need to add anything to it.

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[MERCEDES NATALIA ANDERSON.]

MERCEDES ANDERSON

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The sound of a large equine's foot steps were muffled by the thick foliage dotting the surface of the earth. A young vampire sat side-saddle on the back of a seventeen point three hand obsidian stallion named Adalstein. The big equine had thick black feathers around his dinner plate sized daggers. White gloved hands were wrapped around the leather reins with a gentle grip, occasionally tugging on them to slow the horse or make him go where she wanted to go. An alabaster wolf lazily walked behind her and the horse, it's brown eyes scanning the horizon. The wolf was named Varg, meaning 'wolf' in Norwegian. It was a strange name to hear here in Straffordshire because of its origin. However, to Mercedes, normal every day names simply would not do for her faithful wolf companion whom faithfully followed her and protected her from every potential threat. The majestic creature's fur was flawless, having not one stain upon the silken alabaster hairs. A single nimble hand reached forward to gently pat the muscular arched neck of her steed. She sighed, a warm breath leaving from between her lush pink lips. The sky was painted with rich, colorful hues of orange, pink, subtle light blue and yellow. The sun's bright face was starting to disappear beneath the horizon, saying its last goodbyes by allowing the gorgeous hues to cascade across the once plain, blue firmament. Wisps of cloud were littered over the colorful sky, much like fine lace.


Mercedes' curved frame was decorated in a lovely violet dress and black boots that went just above her ankles and they had a slight heel on them. Her lush brunette curls were handing neatly over her shoulders, swaying ever so slightly in the soft breeze. She wore a gold bracelet around her right wrist and gold earrings. Her mind was darting here and there, thinking of her dead brother, Jeffery and her sister, Amanda. She didn't know the fate of Amanda. She had either died from her wounds or left Straffordshire after healing. She didn't remember very much from the night she was turned into a vampire or when she killed her mother and father. All she remembered was a lot of blood and screams of terror and agony. She remembered as they pleaded for their lives. For some reason, no one seemed to notice their disappearances. She hid their bodies in her mother's garden. Amanda had somehow escaped when she heard the screams. It was probably a good thing. Mercedes had plans on killing her, too even though she had no reason to. She didn't need a reason. As for that so called 'lover' of hers, she didn't care if he drank poison. If she ever came across him, she would kill him for betraying her trust. However, he did make her into a vampire which was quite wonderful, if you think about it. She had more power than she ever would as a human.


The temperatures were very low, chilling her body ever so slightly. Varg and Adalstein were not at all bothered by the cold weather. The wolf had a thick coat of fur and so did Adalstein, the big black stallion. A low growl came deep from the pits of Varg's chest, making Adalstein's ears perk forward and Mercedes look off into the distance. Striking brown eyes looked down at the wolf. "Shh. It's alright, Varg. Calm down, dear" she spoke softly to the beautiful creature and he obediently stopped his vicious and intimidating growl. She gently nudged the black horse on into a smooth two beat trot. Brilliant brown eyes were caught by a man on a dark bay horse, three beating across the field. She watched for a moment before pulling back on the leather reins into a slow, nearly lazy walk. Once more, a vicious growl came from the ivory wolf as he started to slowly stalk toward the cantering bay horse and the horse's master. "Varg, come back here...now"

[/color] she snapped, glaring at the canine as he stopped beside her. She nudged the big black equine into a faster walk, occasionally looking over to watch the graceful gaits of the lovely bay horse. She was in the mood for even the slightest bit of conversation. But it would be rather rude to interrupt someone's ride, wouldn't it?



words; 720
muse; it's there. lol
music; stuff off of this Bach CD i found in my mom's room.
notes; ehh...i'm sorry that post was kind of 'blah'. lol[/color][/blockquote][/size]

[LUCIUS DAVID SALISBURY.]

LUCIUS SALISBURY

The conversation between horse and rider was completely nonverbal. Lucius rode almost as if he was unable to convey any message to George despite it was completely the contrary. With his head tilted downward, his irises of the palest sapphire cast to the billowing mass of ebony locks near his gloved hands, he seemed to be lacking attention of his surroundings. But Lucius was no fool and in fact, he had the utmost awareness of the scenery. With a seemingly invisible tightening of his fingers against the braided leather, the bay steed's thrice beat stride immediately became shorter and moreover exuberant in one place. Upon his normal inhalation of the icy oxygen around him, the faint perfume of a well off lady ghosted along his nasal passages. Ebony pools nearly swallowed up the arctic blue surrounding them as his eyes widened. With a coy smirk that only tugged one corner of his lips upward, he allowed his gaze to lift up to the scenery around him and his horse.

Among the knee high grasses of the unkempt countryside, an ivory brute of a wolf jutted up from the chilly surface of the earth. It had been a long several years since he had seen a beast as pure of hue. Observant orbs scrutinized the animal from a distance, George's pistons never taking him any further than a few feet with each stride now as he continued to hold the stud. Then his attention moved onto an heavily built ebony steed. Upon the charger was the woman whose perfume had adorned the winter air currents. She was clothed in the richest purple he had ever laid eyes upon and her locks were formed by the most infamous painters. The curls were innumerable and from a distance, appeared to be luxurious to the touch. He allowed his own eyes to connect with the lady's for a moment before lowering his hands and George descended to a halt near the barely there path. "Good evening, m'lady." He greeted her, removing his hat as he half bowed to her from atop his horse. He then respectfully replaced his hat and drew up his reins again before speaking. "May there be a way that I may assist you; perhaps in company? It is not safe for a lady to travel unaccompanied at night. But by no means am I claiming that your beasts could not chivalrously defend you until their last breath." He spoke, his words floating out of his mouth in deep, respectable, and sincere tones.

Despite what he was, he would not turn away the chivalry and responsibility for a woman. Lucius' most vulnerable weakness was women of all pasts and presents. He could not step aside for a noble man but would step aside for the most vile and disgraceful ladies in all of England. He was tempted to reassure the lady that he was not asking to accompany her for her praises and recognition but he had already spoken far too much for his own reputation. She had yet the chance to speak and he would do his damned best to allow her as many opportunities to speak and voice herself. He was fully aware that women were supposed to be seen and not heard, quite like children, but Lucius was known to treat his women differently. Seeing as the one who turned him was of the ladies' own kind, he had a vendetta with her but he had sworn to himself to not allow his bitterness to affect the innocent. So he dealt with it in his own way. By exploiting women for money, because he was convinced that Mary Ellen would one day become his toy, like he was to her.



character | lucius david salisbury.
character mood | calm, assisting.
author | fang.
author's muse | decent.
author's music | black moon dance - enya.
author's word count | six hundred and twenty.
author's notes | his mood changed toward the end.

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[MERCEDES NATALIA ANDERSON.]

MERCEDES ANDERSON

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The brunette sighed a bit in frustration as the thought suddenly hit her that she, once again, forgot a corset. Of course, she didn't care about such a petty little piece of clothing. Many women here wore them and they were very uncomfortable. Why would one want their waist to be the size of a toothpick, anyway? Mercedes much preferred the natural look but everything was so artificial. She would be looked down on if she didn't put thick slabs of paint on her face every day. She refused to be looked down and disrespected, which was the only reason she followed the customs that were set for the women. However, Mercedes could care less what others thought of her. But these days, women weren't seen as equal to men. She usually had to hold her tongue in the presence of men and couldn't speak unless spoken to. She was already looked down on. If she was disrespected any more than she already was, then it was quite vexatious. The only real love and respect she got was from Varg and Adalstein. Her only two friends on this damned planet. She couldn't say that was a bad thing, though. Was she insane for befriending beasts? Some may think that. She didn't think it was strange at all. She's never really gotten along with people very well. Covetous and selfish beings, the lot of them. No wonder she always wanted to kill humans all the time. They governed the world everyone saw on the surface while the supernatural beings lurked in the shadows, watching what happened in this world, as it should be.


Delicate hands released the thin reins, giving the equine a little room to stretch his neck. She gentle ran her hand along his neck, scratching his withers, the heat from the stallion's nape warming her cold fingers. Varg was curled up in a comfortable position beside the black steed. Bright brown eyes watched the rhythmic swaying of the tall green grass in the icy breeze. A light sigh of boredom left from between her lips. She nonchalantly re-arranged the curls framing her flawless face, smoothing out the stray hairs at the top of her head. She noticed the man on the gorgeous bay horse slowing and making his way toward her. Varg kept quiet, remembering Mercedes' command from before to keep quiet. However, on the slightest command, the wolf would turn aggressive. Muscles under the black stallion's skin twitched as she released the reins a bit more to give him more space. Her gaze wandered easily from Adalstein up to the gentleman on the finely built auburn equine.


A slight smile was formed easily across her perfectly proportioned features as he politely greeted her. His deep and polite tones alone was enough to make her smile. She waited until he was completely finished speaking before she spoke in soft, eloquent tones. "Hello, sir" she spoke, her tones quiet yet clearly audible as she delicately cleared her throat. "Having a bit of company would be much better than riding alone. Of course, if it wouldn't be a burden you in any way"

[/color] she spoke politely, almost in a sing-song kind of tone, however, it wasn't overly happy or annoying by any stretch of the imagination. A frozen gust of wind slithered across the terrain like multiple sagacious snakes. The sun was nearly gone but the various hues were still spilled across the sky like buckets of paint.




words; 576
muse; it's kinda dead now.
music; - - -
notes; sorry, it has no detail or anything. i might edit it tomorrow. it's 4:30 and i wanted to get it done before i went to bed and i'm one tired mofo and i need to hurry the hell up. haha.[/color][/blockquote][/size]

[LUCIUS DAVID SALISBURY.]

LUCIUS SALISBURY

The potential of someone being out in the countryside after dark, if they had any sense, was slim. But really, you don't know if you aren't there, correct? Lucius visited the countryside nearly every night and it wasn't because he suffered from a sleeping disorder. He wasn't exactly human either. More like living dead. That entire concept fascinates him but that's another story. He knew what lurked about in the miles and miles of nothing at different periods of the night and who and what they were. Werewolves, vampires, and the spell casters were out here most of the time. Granted, it was a rare occasion that a werewolf and a vampire would ever meet and go off without spilling a little bit of their cold blood but he wasn't saying it could never happen either. If he ever came across a werewolf, there was nothing hindering him from attacking. He would merely say that he was hungry and they were the finest meat he had seen in a long time. Which wasn't the furthest stretch of the truth..

But, regardless of potential, it seemed as if he and this lady would be out in the after hours. By now, in the town, all the ladies would be preparing their houses to retire for the night while their husbands may stay up by the fire to smoke a pipe and contemplate the day's worries. Those were the fine ladies. But he refused to allow himself to judge the lady upon her ebony knight a few meters away from him. It was just not the proper thing to do. Especially to do so to an exquisitely dressed woman as she. But there were certain qualities about all women that Lucius thought that they all should possess. They should be able to speak and convey themselves not necessarily clearly but well. They should be able to find their place in most conversations. Particular conversations were not suitable for a lady's input or presence and she should be knowledgeable enough to discern this. It wasn't that all of a woman's opinions or ideas were useless but men had a tendency of being too vulgar for their fragile hearing.There were many more qualities but he was sure that he would have to write a book on his own personal preferences. The Preferences of a Brothel Headmaster

[/u]...sounds like a charming read does it not? It was a rash idea that would never fully occur. At least, not in the quietness of Staffordshire. He had eternity to live, why would he waste his time writing petty words so only his reputation would be mutilated?

"Hello, sir" Her words floated out to him in a pleasant, simply elegant tone. The way her tongue curled and propelled her speech was something he had not heard in many years. Forty decades at the least. And it was no secret the commoner women did not speak like her at all. He wished for her to speak more so he could try to to find where he had heard such an elegant voice before. It was very hard to come by, actually. She was different. But he was quite pleased with this; he absolutely could not bear to be in the presence of a woman whose tongue rolled about in her mouth with no sense of her tones. "Having a bit of company would be much better than riding alone. Of course, if it wouldn't be a burden you in any way" A smile tugged at his pale lips, something that had not been seen in a many months of him. "M'lady, you will never be a burden to me. Would a walk through the vast lands of the countryside or a comfortable gallop suit you and your beasts best? He inquired, leaving up the pace to the lady, as it was always traditional to do. He was not doubting her ability to ride, he was merely offering her a place to speak as well as act.

character | lucius david salisbury.
character mood | curious and impressed.
author | fang.
author's muse | decent.
author's music | black moon dance - enya.
author's word count | six hundred and sixty-four.
author's notes | he's so nice x3
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[MERCEDES NATALIA ANDERSON.]

MERCEDES ANDERSON

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A thin alabaster cloud of steam left from the delicate nostrils of Mercedes' obsidian steed, the warm breath soon dissipating into the cold, late evening atmosphere. There was a constant icy breeze caressing the countryside that didn't seem to cease chilling this particular area. The only thing providing the slightest bit of warmth was the slowly fading sunlight, which had turned from gold to a brilliant orange just before it decided to fade into the coming night. It was only a matter of time before countless stars would dot the navy blue sky and the majestic silver cerebrum of the moon would hang by invisible suspenders in the sky. This was when the more dangerous folk came out. Such as vampires, werewolves, witches and warlocks. She had no problem with the witches. Werewolves? Well, she didn't have a big thing against them like most vampires did. Of course, she didn't really like them but she wouldn't go and attack one if they so much as looked at her the wrong way, even though she certainly had the strength and ability to do so. Mercedes may not look like much of a fighter, but that was just the surface. She could fight like the most experienced assassin and kill with surgeon like precision. Like most women, she was underestimated which gave her an automatic advantage as most turned down her challenges. Either that, or they fought her and purposely acted like an inexperienced weakling. If they ran, she would be back for them whenever they went to sleep and put a knife in their heart. Of course, if she was hunting, she would gladly sink her fangs into the thin flesh over their jugular. Then who ever underestimated her would regret ever thinking that she couldn't send them to their graves.


Black hairs stuck to her ivory gloves from petting the neck and withers of the gargantuan stallion. Stray locks of brunette hair hung in front of her pale face, ever so slightly obstructing a portion of her vision. She felt the friesian horse move slightly beneath her, his massive daggers attempting to disobediently go into a walk. Before he even got a chance to move, however, her delicate white gloved hands pulled back gently on the finely crafted leather reins. Her attention turned back to the gentleman, listening to his polite words. It was nice to finally have a chance to speak instead of being constantly told to hold her tongue or go gossip with the other women. First of all, Mercedes did not and would never sink so low as to gossip with the witless scum that lived in the city with the rest of the humans. And second, she was extremely outspoken and would state her opinion in a crowd of men whether it was welcomed or not. She never followed orders like most did. She did know that there was a difference between being rude and outspoken. She had never gotten to the point where she would be considered rude. Very brash and slightly arrogant, but never rude. She thought much too highly of herself to ever be 'rude'. Then again, she would kill and torture without hesitation. But it didn't matter. It wasn't like the dead could go and whine to the whole down that she had no manners. She was born into a rich family and, even though she wasn't taken care of properly as a child, her mother believed it was mandatory for her to learn proper etiquette and manners. Mercedes would have thanked the selfish whore if she hadn't killed her so soon. By 'thanking her', she meant letting her rot in a cellar.


Peach hued lips parted ever so slightly to allow polite words to smoothly flow out with a pleasant yet slightly ominous charisma. "A walk would be fine, sir. I believe my wolf is a bit tired and I would hate to make him sprint behind galloping horses" she said, pointing down to the alabaster beast who was sprawled out across the emerald grass, asleep. "Oh, and you can just call me Mercedes. May I ask your name, sir?"

[/color] she inquired softly, her lips forming a faint smile. She was quite curious about this gentleman. He wasn't like most of the men in town who were disrespectful toward the majority of women. Besides, it may just be her imagination, but there was something slightly enigmatic about him which formed a nagging curiosity.




words; 740
muse; yay muse!
music; knives and pens(acoustic) - black veil brides.
notes; mercedes...polite? that's new...x.x[/color][/blockquote][/size]

[LUCIUS DAVID SALISBURY.]

LUCIUS SALISBURY

Women. They were such fantastic things. But they were beyond things, they were people just like he and the other men were. There really was no difference in his mind between men and women other than molding. But even then, just because they were different, didn't mean they didn't have feelings or opinions. He never understood why women weren't allowed to have a fair say in conversation but it was the rules and they had to be followed...for the most part.

At the brothel, his women were considered social outcasts as it was so it was no trouble for them to be outspoken, blunt, and vulgar in his presence. He let them be as they wanted to be as long as that didn't involve killing a client or leaving the brothel. No, his women weren't allowed to leave unless it was because of an illness or they were moving onto another brothel. It was a funny business really. And the most meticulous maneuvers had to be made at exactly the right time for the business to flourish. But if Lucius could have a perfect world, all the women in the world would be like the women at the brothel. However they wanted to be.

The maiden's words floated into his hearing passages and he nodded politely, A walk is perfectly fine, m'lady. Whatever suits you the best. He smiled softly before letting the leather braids slide through his gloved fingers to allow George to relax. His pale sapphire gaze flickered to the alabaster beast lying on the ground as it slept. Such an interesting pet to have. He thought before his gaze returned to the maiden. It is a divine pleasure to meet you, Mercedes. You may call me whatever charms you the most but formally, it is Lucius. He responded cordially, never showing any air of pomp or a demand that he must be called anything in particular. He honestly could care less for his own name. Ladies preferred other names anyhow.

He paused, waiting for Mercedes to move out first, always following the traditional polite cordiality of being in the presence of a maiden such as her. Is there any particular destination in mind, miss Mercedes? He inquired, leaving it up to her where they were going but no matter where it was, he wouldn't depart from her presence until she departed from his. It wasn't polite to leave a lady under any circumstance. And if I am too bold please correct me but I cannot place your name or face with anyone I have met; are you new in Staffordshire?

character | lucius david salisbury.
character mood | curious.
author | fang.
author's muse | decent.
author's music | the sound of the fan in the other room.
author's word count | four hundred and thirty.
author's notes | uhm..ignore this fail post. no idea what happened.

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