Ghostwhisperer lapetitmauvais

[lambwolfandman]

Outside is pitch black. The world outside the stone walls has vanished under a solid black shroud. It draws the eye back into the confines of the castle. The abandoned corridors pitch black and then, in a seemingly random decision, torches light other hallways. Places carefully chosen for their frequent use and great importance to the skeleton crew

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[lapetitmauvais]

How is it that he's never heard of it? This incredible, beautiful, startling secret nestled deep in the bowels of the castle. How strange no one thought to mention it, not even in passing. Here he'd been exploring some nondescript hallway, and then he'd rounded the corner and found himself in some strange and haunting tableau. They line the corridor, tall, imposing, magnificent. Lifelike figures sculpted, painted in colours still vibrant after who knows how many years. Every detail immortalized, every sword, every shield, every glorious set of blood-coloured robes, every glittering mantle of chainmail recreated with painstaking care

[lambwolfandman]

"Seeing what it is to stand amongst the glorious," he replies gently. Not flinching at Sebastien's surprise. Tone a touch higher in amusement though he says it as if it is an obvious fact.

None of Sebastien's movements go unnoticed. The raising and lowering of his hand. Even the twitch of the muscles in his face as the vampire hisses and then carefully sculpts his expression. The slightest movement catches his attention though he barely moves.

He answers Sebastien's question easily, but he's here to get answers, not to give them. So he steps down from the pedestal. Keeping the composure and grace of a dancer as he lands close to Sebastien. Never breaking eye contact. Breathing so controlled it's all but inaudible to the human ear. It's hard to tell whether or not he takes Sebastien's question as a challenge. Either way, he is utterly unfased by it.

"What of you? Why are you here?" Merrik barely moves. Only suggesting the tilt of his head. "Are you also here to see what it is to stand beside heroes?"

[lapetitmauvais]

Sebastien stands his ground, not flinching back as the stranger lands right in front of him. It's more defiance than confidence, a stubborn refusal to let this man see how rattled he is. He stares back, his unease growing. Who is he? The man's grace is unnerving, almost...unearthly. Sebastien inhales, his nostrils flaring slightly. He certainly smells human, no hint of magic or myth about him. That's why he was able to surprise Sebastien so thoroughly, because the scent of his blood was mingled with that of all the other humans in the vicinity

[lambwolfandman]

"The professor?" He smiles and shakes his head. Taking one step for every two Sebastien retreats. "For all his wealth of knowledge. He cannot truly know such answers. For they are yours and yours alone. My questions are innocent, aren't they?"

He stops suddenly. Pulls his feet together so it's clear that he is not about to move. Though he scarcely stirs he manages to look distinctly saddened by this idea. "Do I unsettle you? Do you think yourself the deer and I the wolf?"

[lapetitmauvais]

He is going to have to kill this man

[lambwolfandman]

"Ah. Yes." Merrik nods in understanding. Accepting this as valid enough. "I have no intention of being the reason the professor's assistant is ill with a hangover."

Besides, it would be as likely to hinder his information gathering as it would be to help it. If he wishes to try that route later he could always send another and eavesdrop... But back to the here and now. Ushering Sebastien along with large strides.

"It's just here." He takes a strange looking key from his pocket to unlock the door. A master key, not that he expects Sebastien to notice. Then he steps out of the way to wave Sebastien in.

[lapetitmauvais]

They stop at last in front of a closed door. There's nothing about it that makes it stand out, no signs or insignia or arcane symbols etched in the wood. It's just a door. No more, no less. No different than any of the hundreds of other doors lining the stone corridors of the castle.

Still. There must be something special about the room. Else why would it be the only one 'allowed' to be richly appointed? Sebastien swallows hard, the fear coming back strong as he takes advantage of Merrik's momentary inattention. Taking a couple of steps back as the man uses the odd-looking key to unlock the door. Sebastien watches it and him warily, his eyes moving back and forth between Merrik and the slowly widening wedge of darkness as Merrik opens the door

[lambwolfandman]

"Now now, Sebastien. You almost sound afraid," he breathes with the faintest hint of a good natured laugh. His sharp grey eyes locked on Sebastien's. The assassin almost loses track of time as he watches Sebastien then.

He suddenly sweeps inside. Slipping into the darkness for a moment. Then a crackle is heard and a candle is lit. Merrik opens the door wider then. Candle in hand. Giving off a glow and highlighting the fine quality furniture and heavy wooden furnishings. A little taste of sophistication in a very mismatched castle.

"Please. Do come in," he purrs and gestures once more for Sebastien to step inside.

[lapetitmauvais]

Sebastien looks back down the empty corridor again. Seriously considering making a run for it. Panic, anger and fragile self-control all warring with one another. His instincts screaming danger but he doesn't know why. Is it possible that this whole thing is innocent, or at the very least not nearly as malevolent as Sebastien imagines? Is Merrik truly a threat? Or just an inquisitive teacher with some time to kill? Perhaps he loathes Lichtenstein enough to want to track down his assistant and have a little fun with him, spend a pleasant evening raking him over the coals.

No.

There's something wrong here. Sebastien's sure of that. The man's gaze is too direct, his manner too deliberate. That oily manner, the superficial charm. Those long purposeful strides down the corridor, as if he just couldn't wait to get here. The way he all but chased Sebastien down, practically frog-marching him along. Deflecting the vampire's every attempt to escape. All those comments about sunlight and cold skin and drinking wine. Sebastien

part two

[lapetitmauvais]

But there is no one. He steps hesitantly through the door. Too afraid to be truly impressed by the opulent surroundings. What he's feeling right now - apart from alertness bordering on terror - is bewildered. And maybe a little infuriated. It's not Versailles, but it's the closest thing he's seen in this world. No bare stone floor or threadbare rug here. Instead there's a thick, richly coloured carpet under his feet. The furniture is heavy and well-made, clearly expensive. The vampire's head swivels around, trying to see it all at once. He hasn't lived in this world long, but to see such things again...it seems unreal. Like a dream. What can possibly explain this? The gilt-framed paintings, the rich tapestries, the lush fabrics. How can this be allowed? How can one man be allowed to wallow in such piggish luxury while the rest of the castle makes do, scrimps and saves and does without? He thinks of Alistair, so happy with his one humble cake. Miriam with her borrowed wooden sword and no bear of her own to hug at night

[lambwolfandman]

Merrik watches from the corner of his eyes. Though he appears oh so focused on lighting candles around the room. He closes the door then and crouches by the fireplace. Setting about getting it lighted.

Only once the flame catches on does he stand and turn back to Sebastien. He seems to fall into his seat. The edge of one of the two couches that is furthest away from the fire. And he gestures to the seat closest to the flames with the flick of his wrist.

"Please. Sit."

[lapetitmauvais]

Sebastien isn't too pleased about the seating arrangements. He'd rather not be quite so close to Merrik - or the fire - but it can't be helped. He slowly lowers himself down, perching stiffly on the end of the couch. Tamping down his natural aversion to fire by reminding himself of its benefits. He's close enough to the hearth that his skin will soak up some of the ambient heat. Enough to warm it superficially. Not quite as warm as a human's perhaps, but close enough to pass.

The silence grows heavy. He looks around the room, avoiding Merrik's eyes. Wondering just what this infernal man wants with him. Wondering if Lichtenstein is missing him yet.

[lambwolfandman]

"Isn't that better?" He smiles and relaxes back into his seat. Crossing his legs. Keeping Sebastien fixed under his gaze.

He lets the fire crackle away for a short time. To let the student warm up. "You are a very long way from France. I imagine it must be very difficult moving here. Why did you come?"

[lapetitmauvais]

Our pasts. Our. For a man so fond of sharing, Merrik doesn't seem to be offering up any misty-eyed recollections of his own. Sebastien sits silently, watching him. Just letting the man go on. Merrik moving elegantly to the cabinet and taking down the glasses.

Lord of all he surveys, Sebastien thinks darkly. He wonders again what sort of man could loll about in luxury in his tiny paradise while the rest of the castle wears homespun clothes and does without. Why, a man would have to be positively evil, wouldn't he? And aren't the heroes sworn to vanquish evil? Why then is it allowed to languish within these very walls

[lambwolfandman]

"Oh?" The sound of wine falling into the glass stops for a moment. Merrik's eyes flicker upwards for a heartbeat before looking back down. "Is that so?" Then it trickles once more.

He walks back around and hands Sebastien his glass. A full glass of red wine. "But you must have left behind good friends. Lifelong friends. Collegues or partners. Brothers... or sisters..? A father and mother..?" Merrik's eyes lock onto Sebastien's as he hands it over. "Did you not?"

He adds just before Sebastien speaks, "Whyever would you do that, after all?"

[lapetitmauvais]

Sebastien meets his gaze.

"Why would anyone?" He averts his eyes just long enough to place the glass, the wine untouched, on the tiny gilt and marble table beside him. "As I said, sir," he looks up again, "this institution is hardly a haven for those with such ties."

He tilts his head. His gaze flat, his hands folded in his lap. His jaw set stubbornly. The vampire determined not to give an inch. And why should he? Why should he offer up his past to this odious man? It's his. It's sickening the way Merrik feigns such interest, such polite curiosity. He just wants something to use against Sebastien. Or the professor. Perhaps both.

Well. Sebastien doesn't plan to make it quite so easy for him.

"Perhaps you should ask yourself why Professor Lichtenstein would take such a one from his own world and bring him here." He sniffs delicately and looks away. "At any rate, you may draw your own conclusions."

[lambwolfandman]

"So guarded, young man!" It's barely an exclamation. He doesn't sound in the least bit infuriated. In truth, he's not. It rather intrigues him. His curiosity rising.

His gaze snaps away from Sebastien to stare into the ruby red of his wine. Swirling it gently as he talks. "If I ask you of your aspirations, will you be so silent?"