Private Why Dance With The Devil When You Have Me

[Aether Decuir]

"Well this place looks as though it's lacking in style." Phalanges smoothed down the label of the dress-jacket, thumbs hooking beneath the collar, smoothing out any imperfects in the fine cloth. Pupils dilated with vibrant disgust as they peered around the cathedral - where had they been hiding. Rumours of those who claimed to be powerful, rooted into the Dark Coven, had been a plague upon him and those beneath his reign; like a disease, rotting them from the inside, spoiled their reality and with a lust to see those who dared blaspheme crushed beneath their boot, outward had their sovereign went seeking these heretics. The Nightfather held no quarrel with those lacking in power or ambition, much like the sheep to a wolf, but such poisoned words he had heard had been bolstered with evidence that such was no mere fable about these individuals - these females. Consequences would be plenty for those who told such brazen lies, lived such tainted truths.

Disgust riddled the face of Aether Decuir while eyes caught the glimpse of cobweb and dust that lingered in the corner like some stalking fiend. It offended him, that ghastly sight, as he could feel muscles recoil in agony as though it were felt down to the physical plane. Clearing his throat rather loudly, smooth-flat bottomed heels moved across the marble as heather oculars flexed to a narrow position while they perused the artifacts as he passed, and the scheme of artwork that littered the walls here and there. The same and yet different. Something had been amiss- this was not his cathedral. What had they done. Where an image of him should have been was a woman: thick raven hair, eyes... his eyes... with the same intensity and darkness, skin the colour of Autumn dust. Teeth drew upon edge while skin drew taught at the jawline.

Gracing his presence within the sanctum, aligned had been the thrones of a few and each one embellished with intricate patterns which denoted to whom its master was. Betwixt them all had sat one, more ornate - the patterns had been carved into obsidian stone, laced with swirls of crimson and violet. Fingers brushed against one of the protruding spikes. It was hot to the touch though smooth. Lips curled into a sneer while eyes had shimmered with an almost dark pleasure while the pad of a phalange pushed into the tip of the cone-shaped decor. Though through his private musings he could feel a growth in the Force - powerful - coming toward his direction. And Aether, near-purring at the challenge, had taken his seat upon the throne of someone others would have known as The Nightmother of the Dark Coven.

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| ✶ | Tag | ✶ |
Ryn Starfall

| ✶ | Clothing | ✶ |
{ Aether }

 

[Ryn Starfall]

Tags: Aether Decuir

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Alarms had gone off for a mere moment and then stop and then gone off again. On and off they went like the damn things were confused. Ryn with a heavy sigh sat up sat up her nap was going to have to wait, she was going to have to check out what was going on at the Cathedral. That's what happens when you appoint yourself duties like Guardian of the Dark Coven's territory it meant you had to work. She stood up grabbing her half drank bottle of booze and half smoked death stick in the ash tray. She put the half death stick in her mouth and with her right index finger produced a flame to light it.


It wasn't long before her feet were one the hallowed ground of The Dark Coven again a sigh left her lips. She looked on the Cathedral looming in front of her with a bit of sadness in her heart. It had been a very long time since the sister of the coven had gathered here. So long Ryn couldn't even remember the last day but then again that good have been the drugs and booze in her system not allowing her to remember.


Her orange eyes just looked upon the cathedral it had seen better days. Had she been a better guardian or keeper perhaps she would have come by once and awhile and cleaned it up. As it was vines and shrugs had crept up the outside of the building, the wood and stone looked run, down aged, and cracked but that was only aesthetically the magic permeating would never allow the building to ever collapse or fall apart truly. However, it did need a bit of magic to restore it's glamour.


Ryn made her way up the stone walkway as she did, she felt an odd presence within the cathedral itself. It was familiar yet not at the same time. It was Decuir that was unmistakable, yet Ryn knew all her in laws this presence was someone she had not met. Warning bells were going off about the presence inside it was strong, still she continued forth. As she entered the foyer she put her left hand to one of the walls and the cathedral itself was still confused about the presences with in not sure if it was friend or foe going between a state of alarm and relaxed.


Though as she passed through the foyer into the cathedral hall itself, she took not that despite the alarms the guardian statues hadn't been activated. She moved passed them looking to a few murals on the wall they to were infused with Magic and Ryn took note of there eye shifts pointing in the direction of the intruder. Shen stepped through the veil and they're her burning sulfuric orange eyes saw him sitting upon the High Priestess throne. She eyed the man curiously, how had a male come this far into the Cathedral with out the high Priestess blessing not even a Decuir male could unless Santeria allowed it.


Ryn just Glared at him from a distance as her right hand reached up and pulled the deaths tick now a mere butt of what it had been from between her lips. She then took a quick swig of the booze in her other hand not once taking her eyes from the figure on the throne. "First who the hell are you? Second how the hell did you get in here? Third this is sacred ground." Ryn said as snuffed out the deathstick butt between her fingers and put it in the pocket of her Jacket. Slowly her hand reached behind her back for her double blade saber in it's sheath with that hand. "You best be quick about answering those question Maling."