The Front Gate

Partygoers will notice that the front gate locks behind them once they've entered. Don't be alarmed- it's merely a security measure. Though whether or not you'll be able to leave the party before the night is over is doubtful. The gate looks rather solid, non?

Arthur Kirkland approached his destination with quiet steps that hardly seemed to reach the ground. It was an eerie night indeed, with ghostly moonlight and a breeze that danced through the trees. It would have been a fine night for conjuring, or performing his rituals. But he supposed it was also a fine night for a party as well, though he doubted very much that was all it would amount to. This sort of location on this sort of night? It courted mischief and chaos. Not that he minded. He usually benefited from such ordeals and often caused them.

His hauntingly green eyes peered out from under his hooded cape which was also green and complemented those eyes well. He wore a moss-colored tailed coat with golden buttons that caught faint glints from the pale moonlight and trousers to match. At his waist was a sheathed longsword, his main tool for spell casting. He suspected the host may insist that he put it away, but if that be the case, he could always transform it into its other form, that of a wand. It was less showy, but just as effective, magically speaking.

The house loomed before him, dark and ominous. He glared at it suspiciously before taking note of the fact that he was not alone. On the walkway ahead of him standing before the gate was another man. Even on this dark night, Arthur could pick out the whiteness of the man’s hair and the paleness of his skin. Arthur smiled with amusement and approached, still quiet, though he was quite sure the other man could hear him anyway. So long as he had a heart that beat, that man would be able to hear him coming.

“Gilbert, you are early.” He ran his hand lightly on the man’s shoulder as he came up beside him, still with that small smile on his face. He noticed the somewhat darker shade of the man’s eyes as he looked at him. “You look hungry.”

With the night air so calm and the sky so clear the moon was able to cast it's silver light on the world. As the light filtered through the trees it created all manner of strange shadows. He approached with precise footsteps and a small grin on his face taking in the sinister night. His white eyemask eerily accentuated by the moon's dim lighting. At his side was his trusted sword his most prized and loved possession he owned, and that is to say it has seen a lot of action. Up ahead there it was the mansion of which he was supposed to make his entrance. Stopping short of the gate he spotted two other figures standing there and decided to approach.


"Good evening." He spoke in a friendly tone though it sounded sinister none the less. His posture was confident but that grin spoke volumes of his personality. He walked to the gate looking up at the manor and assessing it's exterior appearance. The structure seemed foreboding enough and at the same time strangely welcoming to him. There was that whole bit in the letter about not causing any problems but, his fingers clutched around the hilt of his sword. Perhaps later he would get his chance to let his desires surface a little bit.
"What do you all make of this?"

Arthur knew Gilbert was lying. His eyes only took on that shade when he was feeling that particular claw of hunger known only to his kind. If he was hungry he was more inclined to do foolish things like attack the other guests, something the invitation they both received said was strictly forbidden. Not that Arthur felt in anyway threatened; he was quite confident in his own abilities as well as Gilbert's. But he preferred to learn more about their host before provoking him.

He had fed the vampire from himself in times like this before, when it was convenient to do so or when it enhanced…certain experiences. He was more than able to handle it and he had a feeling his blood had certain properties that typical mortal blood did not.

He was just about to offer a vein to his companion when he noted they were not alone. The man approached them with no fear, no hesitation. Arthur figured this meant he either didn’t know who they were, or that he was confident to the point of not seeing them as a threat, which was foolhardy indeed. Even if they were not to attack anyone at this party, they weren’t quite at the party yet, were they?

Nevertheless, Arthur had no reason for ill will against this stranger yet, and for all he could tell this was a mere mortal. He sensed no magic or supernatural air about him. And it was almost cute the way Gilbert stood between them as if Arthur needed protection, even if the man was fingering the hilt of his sword as if itching to use it. He smiled, amused by the whole situation. He wondered if the man had any inkling of exactly what he had stepped into. Though truthfully Arthur didn’t know the entirety of it himself.

“Mysterious indeed,” he agreed, gazing at their fellow guest from around Gilbert. “But I’m certain it will be an event to remember.” As he spoke, he undid the cuff of one of his sleeves, folding it up his forearm. He was curious. Just how exposed to the supernatural was this man. He stepped closer to Gilbert and presented his exposed wrist before him, lifting it up so that it was level with his face.

“Drink, love…. You are not yourself when you are hungry.”

Katyusha stood there, in front of the magnificent iron gate, waiting.

For what? She wasn’t quite sure yet, but she was sure something was coming, since the moment she first received the invitation to this “party”. The Queen hadn’t been happy sending one of her most trusted fairies to a gathering where surely evil would be present everywhere. But knowing the plans the host and the rest of the surely distinguished guests had was of vital importance if the fairies wanted to stand even the slightest chance against the forces of evil.

She walked slowly, her feet touching the ground very lightly almost like if she were floating. The stones below her glittered with magic at every step she took and when she finally came to a stop there was a trail of tiny pink flowers behind her, all born out of the power of her magic.

In front of her there were three men, she could sense the magic irradiating from one of them in all the cells of her body, she shivered and quickly concealed her being under her thick black robe. If the man was a believer (and most magicians were) he would be able to see her true form even through the layers of clothing, but she had to be careful nonetheless.

A shiver ran through her as one of the other men and the magician got closer. He had white hair and there was something on his eyes that terrified her, something that almost seemed like hunger. She didn’t have time to think that through though as the man sank his impossibly white teeth on the magician’s wrist. A loud cry escaped her throat and her hands covered her mouth quickly silently hoping no one heard her.

Sadiq watched the white haired man as he moved between him and the other like a guard dog. A smirk played at his lips and he released his grip on the sword hilt. Relaxing his posture more he turned hearing the sound of move footsteps but, returned his attentions to the albino and the blonde. Curiously he watched the white haired young man move to the other's wrist and bite down drawing blood. As a man who killed all the time the sight of blood did little to effect him. What he found interesting was he was in the presence of a vampire and before that thought fully registered he turned hearing the woman's voice.
"Don't freak out like that he isn't comin' after you." The dark haired man chuckled and sauntered towards her, his eyes glistening behind the mask.
"Another guest here? Do ya have a name?" He inquired his eyes pretty well checking her up and down. Sadiq may have been a murderer but he was still a man.

Arthur watched Gilbert feed from him, saw the blood stain his lips and the look of sheer indulgence that came over him even as he tried to remain alert. A familiar mild lightheadedness came over the wizard, as it often did when he allowed the vampire to drink from him. It would pass quickly. He recovered much faster than the average mortal.

The stranger seemed curious at their actions, but not intimidated by them. Interesting. He must certainly not be your typical human.

Of even greater interest was the newest arrival. He felt her presence before he could see or hear her, but he couldn’t tell if she was going to stay hidden as her kind often do. Of course, any hope she may have had of staying out of sight was lost when she cried out upon witnessing the feeding. So innocent, this one.

The stranger went right for her. Arthur doubted very much that he knew what she was, but he wasn’t concerned. She was a strong one from what he could sense. However, he did want to keep Gilbert’s attention away from her. The appeal of fairy blood might be overwhelming for him. Arthur had a long history with the fae, and even if they largely didn’t approve of his actions over the last few years, he’d still hate to see one killed. Or see one kill Gilbert, for that matter. She was no fragile pixie, this one.

So Arthur allowed Gilbert to feed longer than he normally would have, caressing his hair with his other hand and aiming to keep him focused on the source of blood before him. “Ah, Gilbert, yes. Drink.”

He looked in the direction of the fairy, hoping she would take the opportunity and make her way past them. He cocked his head, catching her eye. Arthur smiled, recalling something deep in his past. It was a much softer smile than had been seen from him in quite some time.

Katyusha understood why the man with white hair had been a puzzle at first. He was a vampire, deceitful, not human and as soon as he finished feeding himself, he would smell her magic. Without taking her eyes from the scene yet, she concentrated and listened; yes, the man had no pulse, no breathing. But she could feel the blood coming from the magician’s wrists as it got lost into the vampire’s body.

Her eyes caught movement in front of her and she turned around.
Any hopes of passing by these men were lost when the one not involved in the fest approached her. Fear crept into her; the vampire could see her any minute if she stayed there, but at this moment her attention was diverted, by the man in front of him. She couldn’t detect any magic on his being, but there was a strong smell of hate around him, all mixed with the metallic smell of blood, this man had killed, that much she knew.

She debated whether to give him her name but decided against it in the end. Knowing someone’s name could bring you power over people, power that she wasn’t about to give to anyone.

“I’m sorry Sir” She bowed her head slightly in a humble apology “But one should not exchange a name so easily, especially if we know nothing about the situation we are in” Her eyes darted towards the massive white house in front of them and she shivered, feeling all that malice and evil that surrounded the complex. “We can however hope to build some sort of uhm… friend ship if you so wish” A sincere smile appeared on her lips and she hoped it was enough to let her pass by him without having to take any major actions.

The magic around her tingled and suddenly became aggressive, trying to defend her from a danger she had not seen yet. She looked frantically around her for the source of the disturbance, and she found green. The magician’s eyes looked at her own. His magic flowing all around her, not threatening but warning her, and her own magic had responded too, choosing to follow the warning. The man smiled and Katyusha couldn’t help but smile back.

She adjusted the cloak over her shoulders and her face and started walking towards the black gate, away from the others, breathing in and out rapidly. Doing the impossible to keep her magic in check, anything to keep the vampire from spotting her.

Antonio stepped out of the forest he and his first mate had been walking in for hours after getting to the shore. His black boots resounded heavily and imposingly on the ground and the feathers on his hat moved softly against the wind. His green eyes took on the big façade in front of him. It was a big white mansion, surrounded by a high metal gate. If he wanted to steal something from it… it wouldn’t be easy to escape.

Nothing discouraged him though and he looked back with a huge smile on his face to his companion, Lovino. He found the same thing he always did, a frown and an expression of ‘yeah whatever bastard’. But he had learned to read underneath that. Lovino was a complicated man; he always put layers upon layers full of unexpressed feelings under a wide mask of indifference and anger. It had taken some time to finally figure this out, since he wasn’t the best man out there when it came to reading the atmosphere or people in general.

They crossed the cleared path that led to the gates of the house easily, noticing four strangers on the way. One of them definitely not human, sucking the blood out of the wrist from another one. They shifted places suddenly, the vampire finally letting go of the pale wrist, and the pirate recognized the white face and bushy eyebrows. Arthur Kirkland… His hand travelled to his sword ready to take it out the moment anyone, specially the magician threatened against his life or that of his companion.

Arthur Kirkland wasn’t exactly his or Lovino’s favourite person in this world. The man had humiliating him in front of his entire crew. It had been a fight for honour and thanks to not being skilled with any sort of magic, Antonio had lost. But not everything had been bad; in that last battle the pirate had obtained his most precious possession. He had rescued Lovino a powerful dragon in human form from the prison of magic that Kirkland had kept him in.

“It seems we finally arrived Lovi” He extended his hand, offering it to the man, expecting him to take it “Do you smell the magic?” He raised his voice a little making sure the magician would hear him “Do you remember him Lovi? Do you remember Arthur Kirkland?”

He was happy to see the fairy take the hint and make her way past them, though it was quite obvious Gilbert had taken note of her as she passed, watching her as a hawk might watch a rabbit. With his hunger sated for the time being, the vampire had not pursued her. Had she shown up mere minutes earlier, before the feeding had begun, the situation likely would not have passed so peacefully. Even now, with her in attendance for this gathering, the problem would likely arise again. Arthur wasn’t sure he would be able to distract Gilbert a second time, nor was he sure the vampire would resist such a tantalizing meal simply because Arthur requested he leave the fae be. It was an eventual conflict he would have to prepare for.

He watched Gilbert watching her. As he did, he pressed his index and middle fingers against his wounded wrist, mumbling a spell under his breath. A pale golden light emanated from the site and when he pulled his fingers away, the flow of blood had stopped and the injury was nearly healed.
Arthur felt more guests approaching. He detected a human (one mortal gave off much the same life force as any other) and another, familiar and decidedly unhuman. He could detect his own magic on the second man, woven over him like a tapestry. Upon hearing his name, he looked up and saw the newcomers. He had to resist the urge to smile with amusement, especially when the cursed dragon snarled at him. Oh what an interesting night this was turning out to be already…

He recalled his past experience with the two. He had put considerable effort into capturing the dragon and again into imprisoning him. But it was quite worth it. Dragon blood was a valuable commodity among magic users and having a ready and replenishable source had allowed Arthur to both develop more powerful potions and spells and to trade with his fellows for rare artifacts and the like. This is likely what had drawn the pirate’s attention to him in the first place. They had dueled, and even though the pirate’s skills with a sword may have been superior, Arthur’s magic had more than leveled the playing field. Unfortunately, the distraction had provided for the dragon’s escape. It had been a costly loss, but after a few years of captivity, Arthur had stockpiled quite a bit of the dragon’s blood. Even now, he still had some. But he could always use more…

He feigned a lack of recognition at first, merely looking on at the new arrivals with mild interest before their identity seemed to dawn on him. He stared at the green-eyed man, not so much as acknowledging the dragon next to him. “Ah, I remember you now. The pirate… Have you come to return my property? Since I defeated you so utterly during our last encounter, it seems only proper that the spoils of the fight be returned to me.”

He turned to the pale man at his side. “Gilbert, I don’t recall if I’ve mentioned this man to you before. He’s the one who stole the source of my most valuable magical ingredient. The very ingredient that goes into making the potion which allows me to feed you so regularly.” As if following that train of thought, Arthur reached beneath his robes and withdrew a small flask. He held it between his fingers, shaking it slightly and hearing the contents slosh about. He lifted it in the air in the direction of the dragon in a mock toast. “Cheers.” Twisting off the cap, he brought the flask to his lips and took a swig. It was sweet initially and then bitter and tingly on the way down. A warm sensation settled in his stomach and within seconds, the lightheadedness which had accompanied the prolonged feeding abated and he felt restored, as if having just woken from a restful sleep.

“I can have the old cell ready again in no time,” he said, smiling smugly and looking directly at the dragon for the first time. “It would be like you never left.”

Francis was running late, as was to be expected. It was a large house, after all. One could not prepare an entire estate in just a few days for an event like this. Though... It had been in planning for quite some time. More than some time, but now that his plans were in motion... he was not about to think about the past. Not when he had this rabble to deal with.

If he had only invited certain members of the cast, the entire play would have been suspect. A play of deeper and darker origins and intentions than the players had a clue. He was the playwright, after all. He would be the one dictating what happened from here.

The Puppetmaster was indeed an apt title. Forgoing his ability to alter the minds of others, make them see his way, it also defined who he was. What he wanted.

But what he desired was of little importance. For the moment, anyway. The guest of honor had yet to arrive.

But he must treat his other guests cordially, so as not to arouse suspicion. This was supposed to be a party, after all.

And, unless he mandated it, there would be no fighting at this party. Which was why he was stepping in now, before his guests could rip one another apart. He'd been watching from the window, smiling at the foolishness of it all. Well, it was time to make his presence known.

"Bonjour, mon chers. Not fighting, I hope? I was just about to welcome you inside." He kept his tone cool, his face composed. But his eyes glimmered with his anger, and he offered them a rather condescending smile. They were here at his invitation, after all. If they didn't like him, they could leave.

It would be easier with less of them around, anyway. Perhaps he'd have to... arrange... for the removal of some of them. When he'd invited them, he hadn't expected this many to show.

Neither here nor there was the action planned. At first it had been casually late, to stroll in unannounced and disturb and observe with neutrality in check. But here he stood, right on time, with nothing less to gain, but to satisfy a bit of curiosity perhaps long gone. In its stead sat attraction and questions and many stranger, stranger things of varying weight on his personal acts.

Under a swollen moon not yet sated, existed an array of enigmas, the importance of which Hei could not yet question, though did guess all the same. All relied on ribbons of varying somber shading and lace and evil intent, though some could be seen to stray longer and thicker than other guests.

The first lace-inlayed ribbon perhaps had been a deeper shade of something brighter, something greater, but now remained the deepest grimiest shade of twilight among the set, its hoops flopped and its tails running long, billowing around all but a few in the vicinity. This mage was the instigator, a connector of people and ideas but one that perhaps had not much luck at sustaining his own links. His companion was a shade of the deepest darkest blue, and no lace dared grace this creature. His bow was twice knotted but had persisted its struggle, for only one round lonely loop proudly held high remained; its tails, one greatly larger than the other were intertwined with the figure of magic. Both seemed to support the other in a way that implied devotion of a stronger stuff.

The second pair was indeed heavily clasped. Both ribbons combined to make a much more intricate piece of deepened red and varying of orange. This duo were mates, an item, a paired set. Perhaps not destined, but made to meet and join; for their knots to be tied together and for their tails to flutter and flow around one another for much time to come and pass. These two would not be separated unless pulled and torn and ripped into profuse tattered strands.

Another was a small but vibrant bow with loops larger than the tails could ever hope of being. Its color was dark, too clouded to distinguish its make as more then an encompassing black. The knot stood tight and strong and proud, though the tails hung like dead things, frayed and neglected in looping shadows. This one perhaps lacked moderation, could allow one aspect of the self to completely consume the others. An unbalanced creature.

The last in attendance had no ribbons or lace or twirling tails of color and strife. This bow was of string, a strong and slippery piece of work that flowed in the breeze and shifted its shape and make every time Hei took the chance to glance its image. A fickle thing that would be difficult to catch, and even harder to pull or break- a tricky one would be this host.

A string of speech halted a war appearing long in the process, and left the air condensed and weighted with unfulfilled tension. Such an occurrence was of a perfect persuasion in Hei's dark dulled orbs. With a flourish of red and black robes - children of the silk trade - Hei took his place in this circle of characters and halved his top parallel to the moist soil, one hand excepting any gift the sky might present and the other curled around his core.


"Good Evening"

The dragon’s body was stiff with fury as every muscle clenched and fire burned in his eyes. How dare he. How dare he even show his fucking face after what he’d done to him?! Lovino could feel that urge to kill rising. The monster within him roared, clawing at him from the inside, demanding to be freed. He could release it if he was pushed much further. He had done it before. The damned wizard’s spell was strong, but Lovino’s own magic could break it temporarily if he was infuriated enough. The members of Antonio’s crew had learned this the hard way when they had mocked “Captain Toni’s pet” for becoming the first mate and outranking them all. More than anything, Lovino hated being disrespected- treated like an inferior, a tool, a thing. Anyone who looked down on him would meet their just punishment, and he wouldn’t need claws to deal it.

There was another thing he hated. It came along with being treated like an animal- and that was being ignored. He knew humans were arrogant and often didn’t care to acknowledge anyone except other humans…but wasn’t he in a damned human body?! Even if he wasn’t, that mage had no right to treat him like this. He glared at his former captor, fighting the desire to rip him to pieces and slowly losing the battle. Lovino let out a vicious snarl when Arthur referred to him as “his property.” I never fucking belonged to you, dammit! He was too angry to even curse at the wizard. He’d settle for ripping at his flesh, but in the midst of his fury, he noticed the pale, white-haired man beside him. The Dead Thing. Not much of a threat, Lovino thought, but he would be annoying if he got in the way. Even now he was making a meat shield of himself. Lovino watched with disgust as he wrapped an arm around that horrendous man. Well, he’d have no problem scorching him too if he had to. Still…even in his anger, the dragon had common sense, and he knew two against one weren’t favorable odds.

He glanced back at Antonio. The pirate wasn’t useless, but he was no match for the wizard. Lovino had had a difficult enough time fighting him, and that had been before he had been trapped in this accursed body. Maybe his mate could deal with the Dead Thing, but Lovino wasn’t sure if he was patient enough for that. He didn’t have much more time to think about it because just then, the wizard pulled out a vial of a familiar-smelling liquid. Lovino sniffed the air and stiffened. That liquid…it had the unmistakable scent of his blood in it. The blood that Arthur had stolen from him. And there he was mocking him, drinking it in front of him, the disgusting bastard. He had the nerve to call others thieves when he had taken something so precious from his body over and over again and left him nothing but scars in return. Lovino could feel the first phase of his transformation taking place. His fangs grew. Those blunt, useless human nails grew long and curved as his claws resurfaced. He could feel a burning sensation in his throat and knew that his flame had returned, stronger than it usually was when he was in this form. Muscles tightened with new supernatural power. He was strong enough now. He could attack whenever he wanted to. Lovino growled, baring those teeth in a threatening display. He’d have his revenge; there was no stopping him. And then the mage finally looked at him.

The mention of that cell, that horrible cold prison that the dragon had been locked up in for so long as the wizard robbed him, sent a fresh chill down his spine. The memories were fuzzy as he had been sedated the majority of the time as a precaution and to prevent his escape, but he still remembered waking up to find fresh cuts, to feel the dizzying effects of having his blood drained, to realizing that this cycle would continue forever until fate dealt him a kinder hand or he finally died. His body started quaking, but whether it was from anger or fear now he could no longer tell. He would never go back, dammit…no fucking way!

Lovino was barely in control of himself anymore. The beast within him had taken over and the drive to attack was so strong that his surroundings became a blur as his focus shifted solely to the man he hated so much. He didn't notice the appearance of the host or the strange Asian man who drifted in suddenly. They weren't important to him right now. All he cared about was getting his revenge and ripping the flesh off the target in front of him. He had waited so long for this.

“Bastard...I‘LL KILL YOU!” he roared and launched himself at the wizard.

It took him a moment to fully process the words of the wizard. It wasn’t until he took his small vial and started drinking from it that something inside Antonio’s head clicked. He looked at the mage with a hard angry expression and his hand went quickly to his sword dragging it out. He wasn’t a jealous person, not most of the time at least. He loved freedom so he always believed his partners should have the freedom to do many things. The only times he got truly jealous was when someone else claimed control over someone who had willingly wished to shared their lives with him, and this, he found happened when he was around Lovino more often than any of the other partners he’d had on his life. He wasn’t even human, but Antonio found himself loving him even more for that, the wisdom that only such an ancient creature could possess, the power, the magic that he felt dancing around him everytime Lovino was happy, but most importantly his self. The way he looked at him in the mornings, how he would blush when Antonio said something to praise his beauty. He loved everything about him! Everything.

The sword was prepared to attack even if on the inside the Pirate knew he had no opportunity against the magician. But… he looked at the white haired “man” standing protectively beside him. If the mage attacked his loved one, then he would do the same.

A feeling of dread extended over his bones then and the figure of a single man appeared behind the Iron gates. Due to him mortal condition he couldn’t feel magic, but even so, he could feel the incredible aura of evil that surrounded the man in front of them. He spoke and his words reminded him of the invitation he had been sent. ‘No fighting’ he had read, and although Antonio had big problems with obeying the authority he didn’t want to miss the party, there were many things he could discover in here and he wasn’t about to lose the opportunity.

He put the sword back on his belt and was about to turn grab Lovino and head to the house when he felt the sudden change on the body next to him. Even with his temper it was very uncommon for the dragon to rage enough to transform, but it had happened sometimes and Antonio bore some scars of past encounters with the angry self of his lover. If they didn’t want to get kicked out he needed to stop him, stop Lovino now. He didn’t think twice when the dragon launched himself at the magician, he acted on instinct.

Antonio ran, faster than he had in ages and positioned himself in front of the magician, a hard commanding expression on his face. “Lovino! Snap out of it! SUFICIENTE!” But words never truly had an effect on the dragon, although they somewhat managed to reach the human part of his brain and made him slightly more aware of the situation he was in. Angry and probably hurt because he was protecting the magician his lover breathed scalding flames at him but Antonio expecting it dodged the ball of fire and launched himself to the dragon’s neck.

He looked deep into those sweet brown eyes with the sweetest expression he could manage at the moment and stroked the sides of his face “Shhh Lovi, shhh tienes que tranquilizarte, shhhh” The anger started fading from Lovino’s expression but Antonio didn’t stop his actions. “Amor, recuerda estamos aqui con un proposito si? Tendras tu venganza te lo prometo. Te dare la cabeza de ese estupido en un plato pero…” He leaned in to kiss the semi-human mouth and whispered against those fangs “Necesito que te tranquilices por ahora” He closed in for a full kiss, even if Lovino’s oversized teeth hurt his lips and smiled feeling the trembling on the dragon’s body as it came to a stop.

Arthur's grinned so widely, his face ached. It was so amusing, all of it.

First it was the arrival of their mysterious host. Arthur suspected the building tensions he had provoked might draw the man out. He was a curious specimen indeed, the truth of what he was concealed, as if behind a veil. Arthur had not encountered many who were a complete enigma to him, and that mere fact was enough to make this man interesting. Arthur wanted to learn more, to discover the secret lurking behind those pale blue eyes that now focused on all of them with disapproval. It would be worth postponing his recapture of the dragon that was his rightful property just to see what it was the man had up his sleeve.

He rested his hand on top of Gilbert's at his waist. His lover's support was appreciated, and while Arthur was convinced he could handle most anything himself, having a vampire fighting by your side was never a bad thing. And Gilbert was truly a site to behold in the heat of battle - a beautiful and deadly ally.

And yet another guest arrived. A Asian man young in appearance and quite observant as he looked at each of them in turn. He seemed to be studying them and the focus he had made Arthur suspect he was a seer of some kind. That had never been Arthur's area. It was too vague and imprecise for him to feel the need to study it. If this man was practiced in that area, though, it was possible Arthur could make use of him.

It was tempting to take advantage of the situation, though. So tempting... He had drawn his sword when the dragon launched its attack, holding it out threateningly in front of him, giving Gilbert a wider berth so he would be out of the sword's range. Whatever their host may desire, Arthur would not stand still and be attacked. It was a true test of willpower when the pirate threw himself between the enraged dragon and Arthur, foolishly showing his back. It would be ridiculously easy to take him down, either by sword or curse. Then he would just have the dragon to deal with. But such an act might cost him entrance to the gathering and his chance to discover more about their host. Plus, he had no sense of just how powerful the Frenchman was. Arthur's magic was strong and he was skilled, but there were those out there who could challenge him and win. Not many, but some.

He lowered his sword but did not sheath it when it seemed the pirate had soothed the dragon. And kissed him as well...what a fascinating development that was. Was the pirate in love with the man the dragon had become? With the form molded by his magic. He couldn't help, he laughed out loud at the absurdity of it. Its true Arthur had his own supernatural lover, but at least Gilbert had started out human. He wasn't an animal in human guise.

"I'm delighted you appreciate my handiwork, Thief," he said, his voiced accented by his laughter. "I had wondered what use a pirate would have for a dragon, particularly a cursed one. But now I see. And it even cares for you in return, else you could not calm it." He cackled again. "What a strange relationship between master and pet!"

He turned his grin to his companion. "Come, Gilbert. We'll be late to the party. Let's leave them to their business. For the time being, anyway..." He brushed intentionally against Gilbert as he turned away from the other guests and towards the gate and their waiting host.

He almost sighed as the fight was averted- not that he wanted to see his guests ripped limb from limb, but it would have been interesting- and nodded to the wizard, schooling his features into a pleasant smile. It was surprising how willingly they entered, how quickly they trusted what they could not possibly know.

"Welcome to Château de Roquebrune. I trust you found your way without trouble?" Civility came so hard, when he hardly wished to look at the guests, let alone speak to them.

But civility was a virtue, and it was expected of a host. He would suffer through.

Even though the rather over-affectionate display by the pirate and his pet was a tad sickening. The boy wasn't even human, he was a beast. A beast that cast a glamour. The pirate was in love with a projection, an image.

Fool.

But that was hardly his concern. Just as it was not his concern that the wizard was involved with the vampire.

Apparently, his guests were into bestality and necrophilia. Comment intéressant.

"Come in, all of you! It's so dreadfully cold out here. So terrible of me, to keep you waiting. Please, tous d'entre vous entrent." He purred, opening the front door with a flourish. The gate creaked open mechanically, and he smiled. Despite the ageing of his manor- not that it was his, he preferred not to hold earthly possessions- it was still in working condition. The spells had proven to be worth paying for.

"I have rooms arranged, if you wish to rest. The house is yours to explore." Unless, of course, they found that room. That would result in their untimely demise. "Unless a door is locked, feel free to tour the manor." Not that a locked door would stop any of these guests. They were all powerful, all magical. A locked door may have well been made of paper.

"And I should hope that there is not a repeat of what almost happened just a moment ago. I would hate to expel a single one of you from the manor." Expulsion was the least of their worries. That, however, was immaterial. "I detest violence." Lie.

Violence was merely a pathway to achieving one's goals. It was base, simple, and stupid. He preferred more complex methods.

Of course, that did not mean that he did not adore seeing them rip one another to shreds. He just didn't want to deal with it while he was implementing his plan.

And what a plan it was!

It was unfortunate that they would never learn of it. He had a feeling that the smarter ones of the group would appreciate its complexity, its depravity.

Soon enough, though, it would go into action. It was almost time for the party to start.

Strings of the finest filth flutter and flash with intent and cloaked polite sweetness, wrapping and tying and forcing and not quite making contact, but testing their strength all the same. Which creature would pull and prod and which would go without a fuss? The impending war was averted and halted by orange frills as red bled darker still. An excitement, a fear; reactions of a victim or villain hemorrhaged indistinguishably from a foil of increasing sway.

A tempt of passage, though invitations had already been received, beckoned all to flee the exterior in favor of the arranged accommodation. Heed of said call posed journeys as well as turbulent waters, and the creatures looked to flock for the now. The most impressive of portals spreading, imploring and tempting all that might force their passage.

Hei's mates of choice were a simple breed; instinct, entertainment. A door promised fulfillment, its use remained imminent. Ever present siblings perched on shoulders of red and silk demanded and clung in unstated curiosity. What curiouser and curiouser happenings could be anticipated?

A sleight of head for strings of the finest filth, a way to pass those stalled and already fastened for their fate. Pressure opens the door, twist and go- there is nothing for the mouth as the road stretches ahead; it stays shut. Hei's greeting has already given word. One step makes or breaks, a threshold of precise care welcomes the new as the twilight banishes those in the process of exodus.

Matthew Williams hadn't intended to come to Francis' party. It was nothing but trouble. His history with the Frenchman had been both beautiful and terrifying. He had no reason to attend this event; in fact, he had every reason to avoid Francis Bonnefoy for the rest of eternity. Nonetheless, seeing the elegant cursive that he recognized immediately as Francis' handwriting had lit a match in his soul. Memories of beautiful nights together and wonderful, sunny days had clouded his judgment. His fate was sealed: he was attending Francis' party. He was going to see him again. The man who had stolen his heart. The man who had lied to him. The man who drove him to flee the very continent of Europe. The man who had followed him home. The man who'd tricked him back into a relationship. The man who he'd prayed wouldn't find him ever again. Matthew reminded himself that whatever would happen at this party, he brought it on himself.

As he approached the daunting mansion, a group of people came into view. Matthew could see the darkness in some of these people's hearts; the evil resting in their souls. It frightened him. The depth of some of this negativity sent a shiver down the young man's spine. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself before pressing onward. The house was large and beautiful, with gothic architecture. Matthew looked at the huge building and could tell that this was a place Francis would inhabit. The man was never one for subtlety.

Soon, he was amongst the guests, having entered the house after them. He'd seen Francis at the head of the group and averted his eyes immediately, turning his face in an attempt to prevent the Frenchman from seeing him. The last thing he needed was for Francis to see him. Interacting with his former lover would bring him nothing good. He had to stay away from him at all costs. Falling head-first into what he had with Francis in the past would bring him regret and pain. He couldn't afford to be close to him ever again.