The Devil is in the details... (open)
Posted: 02 Jun 2016, 15:56
Soft blue light flooded over the fog coated grass, lanterns along the drive set a falsely romantic image of the grounds, luring your thoughts to assignations and tales of Byronic hedonism. A roll of smoke melted into the damp air followed by the slightly sweet smell of clove and tobacco. Horses stalled in the yard behind him made quiet noises of life, movement and harsh intakes of breath stalked him no matter where he walked, muffled almost ominous.
Rolling the Sobranie between his fingers, he leaned against a lantern post, classic monster dressed in a handsome skin. A demon lurked beneath the gallant exterior, driven and ever collecting souls... he had more than just horses in his stables. Herds....
The Dragon looked out toward the edge of his property, the dramatic line of forest cutting alongside the drive, light from his buildings touching the dense foliage but not penetrating. He narrowed his gaze, he could feel something looking back at him... something otherworldly and alien... magical... as evil as he was..
Fae
He knew they were out there, the woods and dales were theirs, just as the city was his and his kinds. These lines where the two met... well it meant violence often erupted in great sparks of blood and energy. It was their presence however that he had sought contrarily. His animals were great beasts of power and wealth, and if he could cash in on the added benefit of a bit of fae magic leaking over the thoroughbreds? Well, it was worth the danger to his person. He was not here in the daytime to provoke them in any event.
Stubbing out his cigarette into a bin of sand, meticulous about keeping his lands pristine... the better to lure a bit of forest magic... he turned on his booted heel and walked back into the lavish stable. Row upon row of stalls stood gated and locked, no heads prodded forward at this time of night, though he could hear enough movement that he knew he'd not gone unnoticed. Stopping at the end stall, he looked into the darkness, his vampiric gaze easily making out the stallion inside. Dark Intentions stood stoic, regal, looking him back in the eye... alpha sizing up alpha... and that was fine with Lorenzo. He needed that fire and courage to slaughter the other horses on the track. He needed Ark to propel forward because to do any less than run ahead of the others meant he had lost his crown, lost his rule.
Keeping eye contact as he stepped back, he didn't back down from the mount, merely acknowledged the animal before going back to his business in the warmth of the outbuilding. An office lay unattended at the end of the stables, meant for the manager and veterinarian he would be hiring. He needed one who could work the daylight hours, care for the heavily insured animals that would be entrusted to Dagger Pointe before and after races. Someone who understood the underbelly of races, the gambling bringing out different sorts of monsters, human in nature... gangsters and white collar thugs. The Allurist needed someone that could hold their own and not be manipulated or buckle under invisible threats...
He'd put an add out on the race market sites, and as he booted up his computer he hoped this night would bring a response... he was getting too farmish, he needed to wash nature off of himself and delve back into the filth and beauty of the city. Soon.
The Devil has quotas after all.
Rolling the Sobranie between his fingers, he leaned against a lantern post, classic monster dressed in a handsome skin. A demon lurked beneath the gallant exterior, driven and ever collecting souls... he had more than just horses in his stables. Herds....
The Dragon looked out toward the edge of his property, the dramatic line of forest cutting alongside the drive, light from his buildings touching the dense foliage but not penetrating. He narrowed his gaze, he could feel something looking back at him... something otherworldly and alien... magical... as evil as he was..
Fae
He knew they were out there, the woods and dales were theirs, just as the city was his and his kinds. These lines where the two met... well it meant violence often erupted in great sparks of blood and energy. It was their presence however that he had sought contrarily. His animals were great beasts of power and wealth, and if he could cash in on the added benefit of a bit of fae magic leaking over the thoroughbreds? Well, it was worth the danger to his person. He was not here in the daytime to provoke them in any event.
Stubbing out his cigarette into a bin of sand, meticulous about keeping his lands pristine... the better to lure a bit of forest magic... he turned on his booted heel and walked back into the lavish stable. Row upon row of stalls stood gated and locked, no heads prodded forward at this time of night, though he could hear enough movement that he knew he'd not gone unnoticed. Stopping at the end stall, he looked into the darkness, his vampiric gaze easily making out the stallion inside. Dark Intentions stood stoic, regal, looking him back in the eye... alpha sizing up alpha... and that was fine with Lorenzo. He needed that fire and courage to slaughter the other horses on the track. He needed Ark to propel forward because to do any less than run ahead of the others meant he had lost his crown, lost his rule.
Keeping eye contact as he stepped back, he didn't back down from the mount, merely acknowledged the animal before going back to his business in the warmth of the outbuilding. An office lay unattended at the end of the stables, meant for the manager and veterinarian he would be hiring. He needed one who could work the daylight hours, care for the heavily insured animals that would be entrusted to Dagger Pointe before and after races. Someone who understood the underbelly of races, the gambling bringing out different sorts of monsters, human in nature... gangsters and white collar thugs. The Allurist needed someone that could hold their own and not be manipulated or buckle under invisible threats...
He'd put an add out on the race market sites, and as he booted up his computer he hoped this night would bring a response... he was getting too farmish, he needed to wash nature off of himself and delve back into the filth and beauty of the city. Soon.
The Devil has quotas after all.