forum A Game of Cards.... ((One on One// PRIVATE//CLOSED))

Started October 28, 2018 by Deleted user

tune

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She gave a frustrated sigh and left, slamming the door behind her. She went into her room and sat at her vanity. "It's alright… It's alright…" she told herself. He was completely, utter, excruciatingly, infuriated. She grumbled to herself as she put her hair into a bun. Once she was finished, her eyes were narrowed and hard. Her lips were in a thin line, and there, she looked exactly like her mother. Beautiful and dangerous all at the same time. Enticing and hypnotizing, ready to steal everything you have.

Marcus heaved a huge sigh of relief when she left, wincing after he realized that she could most likely hear him. Forget her, she doesn't matter. Move on. Kill Luc. That's what's important right now, not her.

He didn't take long to decide on his outfit, he had his (impressively abundant) wardrobe selection memorized by now and knew exactly what impression he wanted to give off that day; smooth, unperturbed, sleek, and superior. A handsome doublet with a black vest fastened by a series of silver clasps running down the front and white sleeves cuffed at the wrist, coupled black trousers. The doublet had faint elaborate swirls of black embroidery decorating the black vest, giving off an expensive, well-combed air. To top it off, he snipped a bloodred rose from a floral arrangement and tucked into his breast pocket.

Marcus double-checked his appearance in the mirror, testing out several determined and unbothered expressions, trying to achieve a haughty air that would mask his earlier shakiness. Performance was important, he was not going to play the broken, weak boy to his babysitter, not now, not ever. Setting his jaw, he turned on his heel and left the room.

Winifred turned from her mirror. She would not remain their any longer. If his highness was still priming, she'd just taking a stroll, clear her mind… and try to mold her face into something a little less predator like. Yet as she stepped out of her room and locked the door, turning slowly, she took in the sight of Lord Marcus in all his obnoxious glory. She could barely hold in her infuriated growl/scream.
Oh heavenly father, why are you against me? She cried in her mind.
Taking a deep breath, she looked up, that darkness still evident in her eyes, gave him a stiff nod, and walked by. Her heels echoed through the empty hallways.

Marcus let her go, snuffing out the tiny prick of guilt and silencing the quiet voice in the back of his head telling him to run after her and apologize. What is wrong with you?, he yelled at himself. She is not important. Focus on Luc. Shaking his head, he walked in the opposite direction down the hallway and into one of the mansion's many salons. He could not afford to make his plans here, his uncle could stumble upon him, but that was not the reason that he was here for.

The room was pleasantly lit, decked out in peach-coloured low slung couches and hazelwood tables, portraits and windows lining the walls, which were plastered in cream and beige wallpaper. A servant was wiping down the mantel of the fireplace, and his face lit up into a rare smile when he caught sight of her golden locks. "Angeline."

The servant turned upon hearing her name, but the submissive demeanour feel right off her face when she saw it was him. "Lord Marcus." Her hazel eyes sparkled. Marcus shook his head with a short laugh. "I've already told you not to call me that." He approached her, and she straightened up. "I haven't gotten any information on your uncle yet.", Angeline whispered as soon as he was close enough. His forehead creased in a slight frown. "Angeline…. I need it soon. You're the only servant with access to his bedchambers that I can trust." She knew he was being harsh, but was used to his ways by now. He was a harsh man. She nodded. "I'm trying." He nodded back, trying to reign in his disappointment.

(He doesn't love her, he's actually very slightly using her, but she loves him)

((Oh dangs))

Winnie continued on her way, her rage so fervent that she wasn't even paying attention to where she was going. Yet, once it faded, she was completely lost. Looking about, she circled to try to gauge where she was. "Lady Winifred…" a voice purred from behind her.

Winnie turned to see Lord Crenshaw. She smiled. "Good morning!" she replied, taking a step towards him. He could guide her to the garden. "I'm afraid I drifted a little far from my mental map. I was looking for the garden." She gave a shrug with an 'Oh my, silly me…' shrug of her shoulder. Lord Chrenshaw gave a soft chuckle. "It's alright my dear… You aren't too far off." He came close and took her arm with one hand, the other resting on her hip. "This way…" he smiled and walked. Winnie followed.

After moments of silence, he cleared his throat. "How… how is he?" He asked. Winnie gave a shake of her head, confirming what he already knew, yet saying nothing he anything he didn't. "Oh.." he scoffed. "This is all my fault…"

Winnie looked up at him, "Not it is not. What he goes through is mental warfare due to tragedy. This has nothing to do with you. In fact, you've done the best you can." she placed a hand on his bicep. Giving him a sympathetic pat, she smiled. "You've done well for your nephew.."

His eyes brightened as he looked at her, yet it was different. The look that he gave her was one of fire. One of desire.

One of hunger.

And surely enough, the hand on her waist slipped a little lower and tightly, but just for a moment. Opening her mouth to express his incredulous behavior, he looked away, those hot brown eyes flickering elsewhere. "The garden, Lady Winifred…" he gestured to the glass double door in front of them that lead out into a forest of flowers and vines and trees. Then he left, turning away, and fading down a darkened hallway.

Winifred stood there, dumbfoundness and utter repulsive fighting within her.

Angeline could see the disappointment plain on his face, and she felt her own disappointment in the pit of her stomach. He was using her, even if he didn't realize it. He is not a good man., she reminded herself, but half of her mind disagreed. But I've seen him vulnerable. Once, that's all he allowed, but I've seen him… broken. He needs my help.

Marcus gave her a smile, but there was a slight coldness behind it. Immediately, guilt surged up within him, but he drowned it out. Stop. No. She is not important. Killing Luc is important. Half of his mind disagreed completely, but he ignored that part. "I should go.", he said suddenly. "Plan. Plot and such." Angeline's face fell, but she quickly drew it back up. "Yes, my Lord." She used the title regardless of what he'd said earlier. "And–" she caught herself, drawing back.

"And?" Marcus raised an eyebrow in askance. "Your uncle… he is–" Angeline swallowed. "He seeks to make me his– his bedservant. I do not know why he has not followed through on his threat yet, but….." Fear had built up in her butterscotch eyes. "If you were to make me your bedservant first… then he would not– he would not touch me. We wouldn't actually— do anything– just for…. protection?"

Marcus froze up. What? Angeline sensed his bafflement and lowered her head. "Forget I mentioned anything, my Lord. It was a silly request, do not bother yourself with it any longer." She turned to leave, but Marcus stopped her on impulse, regretting his actions instantly. "Angeline….. I'll consider it." The nights were… his own. The only time he could cut without suspicion, the only time the hallucinations came. If she were to know…. he would be in the asylum before he knew it. Quickly, he turned away from her. "I have matters to attend to."
She let him go.

Winnie forced herself to move, shaking her head as she went. "It's alright… everyone is allowed at least one slip-up… " She opened the door and stepped down the steps, heading to the forest down a cobblestone path. The scent of lilacs and peonies, roses and daffodils filled the warm air. It instantly calmed her wildly beating heart, reigning in her scrambling mind. It was beautiful…
She walked among the flower banks and into the trees, relishing the shade they offered. She looked up to the green canopies and smile. Instantly, the world outside cleared her mind. She relaxed.
Finding a nice tree to sit against, she flared her dress and sat. In her mind's eyes, she read. She read over Lord Marcus's catalog. What she had felt, what she had seen.

Well, he's hurting… I know that much. He is not taking care of himself, either. That needs to change

She bite her lip. Getting that boy to eat would be like trying a horse to swim. Trying to take care of him would be like fighting through flames with a blindfold. She would try harder nonetheless.
Resolve settled in her as she stood and went back towards the manor. She would come back, she promised herself. But there were things she needed to get done. She wandered about until she happened upon voices. Lord Marcus and a girl…? Winnie had to admit, she was shocked. Peeking about the corner, Marcus was leaving a girl with golden locks. She watched him leave with narrowed eyes.
Looks like I just found myself a knowledge bank

Each step he took as he strode down the hallway seemed heavy and weighed down. He made sure to keep his shoulders back, his posture confident, but inside his resolve was crumbling apart. Angeline. A bedslave. To my uncle. Marcus shuddered inwardly, horrifying images creeping into his head. Outwardly, he straightened the cuffs of his shirtsleeves, his face a mask of relaxed assurance.

What am I going to do?? He wanted to bang his head against the wall. He could t leave her to the mercy of his cold, ruthless uncle, but….. Goddammit. His uncle would probably slap him for swearing out loud, so he tried to only do it in his head. Where’s Winnifred?, he found himself wondering, then mentally slapped himself. Forget her.

Happy Halloween if you celebrate!

Winnie pocketed the knowledge she had just obtained and turned. Maybe she could intercept Lord Marcus on his way to… where ever he was going, she hoped. Her steps could be heard as she walked double time towards the other end of the salon. She was amazed at how large this place was. As she rounded a corner and spotted Lord Marcus. "Eh-hem…" she cleared her throat as she stopped a little ways behind the man. Time to try and teach the horse how to swim

Marcus whirled around, dark eyes narrowing as they fell on Winnifred, standing there in all her glory as if his thoughts had summoned her. “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”, he deadpanned flatly, turning to leave again. He could see the look in her eyes, she was about to try something, and he didn’t like it. Did she see me with Angeline?

She smirked. He was rather roguish when he acted as if he had not a care in the world. "Your assumption was correct in a way, your childlike attitude this morning in fact left me quite furiously speechless. Alas, the speechlessness has abated. I still have responsibilities to uphold." she clasped her hands behind her back.

"We need to talk about your physical state…" she stated bluntly, she wasn't going to dance around it anymore. This or anything else for that matter. Not with him, since it was ineffective.

“No.”, he said simply, just as blunt, and began to walk away. “You’re my babysitter, not my therapist, he called over his shoulder, not turning enough to properly look at her. Goddammit. I am going to kill Luc. His fault. Everything is his fault. He is going to die and he last thing he will see will be my face.

"I am neither. I am your doctor." she retorted as she approached him. "I don't care what you want, you pitiful brat." She the gasped and smiled. "Yes… that's exactly what you are. And that's how i'll address you from now on." She nodded with approval. Alright, thin ice… she warned herself as she level a gaze at him.

Marcus’s insides burned with hot fury and hate, but he kept his gaze level and cool, his posture poised but relaxed. Instead of clenching his fists, he simply shrugged elegantly and turned away, walking in the opposite direction. She would pay later. Starting a fight now would serve no good, he would not achieve a worthwhile outcome. Pitiful brat. He would’ve snarled, but had to grapple with his instincts and keep a peaceful, uncaring expression hanging off his features. He was glad she could not see his face.

Winifred clenched her fists and bit her lip to keep anything inappropriate from leaving her lips. She was act as a lady should. She would beat him at his own game. "If you will not come along quietly…" she muttered as she unconsciously fisted the skirts of her dress. "I will drag you along, screaming all the way… " A quote from Killing Me Softly, by Lauren Dean. Winifred thought. She was happy she had brought a few of her books along.
She'd leave him be. For now. She would say nothing as she plotted against him. She turned and headed back to her room. This mouse was smart, but she'd been playing kitty for such a long time, it became second nature.
Winnie sighed, All this for some confessions and conversation..
She thought it funny that in order to find common ground with an animal, you had to join the zoo yourself.

(Damn)

When Marcus finally arrived in his room, slamming the door behind him, he let the indifferent expression melt completely off his face, replaced with an enraged look of hot fury. His eyes burned as he stalked to the far side of his room, where his bed was, and rummaged in a drawer for something before coming up with a dangerously elegant pearl-handled dagger. He went to his bathroom and violently flung the door closed, hands bunched up into fists. He needed to relax, to breathe, to escape.

And the only way to do that was with a knife.

(Sorry my writing isn’t up to scratch, I got back from a big party and trick or treating and I’m exhausted)

((Its still good though! Hope you had a good time!))
Winifred had just got to her room when she heard the doors slam with great force. She didn't know whether she wanted to frown or to smirk? Unlocked her door, she decided on neither. She crossed the room towards her chest and opened it. Rummaging about, she looked for her books. She should've taken them out when she unpacked the night before, yet, she had.
I was rather distracted last night… she scoffed as she found the books. A stack tied together, she ran her hand down their blood red cover. That was her favorite color I believe… she thought with a smile. Lauren had brought Winnie some peace in her years, oddly enough.
Winnie, stressed beyond measure, curled up on her bed, a sought out that peace one more, reading One Bullet For Me, a romance novel.

(Thanks! Good morning, how’re you?)
(HUGE TRIGGER WARNJNG)

Blood. Dripping to the floor. Welling up from beneath his skin. Trickling down the underside of his arm, wiped away with a cloth before he reached his white sleeve, rolled up to the elbow.

Marcus sighed in relief, closing his eyes and letting the pain wash over him. He raised the knife again, pressing it against his forearm and dragging it across slowly until the skin split and red blossomed up. He almost, almost raised the arm to his mouth to suck the blood from it, but whatever was left of his sanity pulled him back.

((I'm doing good. How are you?))
Winnie sat silently on her bed, the bottom of her lip tuck in as she read.

I'd never believed that pleasure so immense could exist. The blade ran along my skin again and again, but his murmurings of sweet nothings, his deep whispers of dark desire, it made it worth the time, worth the pain. I couldn't stop him, nor did I want to. Death had me in his warm embrace as he made love to my body. My screams and moans were my own, no one else could hear them but him, no one else could save me.

Yet, did I want to be saved? Did I want to escape him grasp, to be left in the world of sanity? No, sanity was weak, and I needed strength. He was the only one that could tame the beast inside of me. The one that called for pain. The one that called for blood. The one that called for Death…

Winnie closed the book once the more sensual events started to take place. The artistic power of this story both awed and vexed her. It compelled and disgusted her. She loathed a relationship of such, but found that in the back of her mind, some of it, she desired. A man that wasn't afraid to love her even if hurt, that was appealing.