Introduction
Now we know the monsters are real, but they are not as monstrous as they once were.
In this realm, monsters live to serve.
It might sound an odd joke, the Masters of the Night now mere dogs for others, but this is how things are now.
Picture a werewolf, once ran lone and free, tearing out the throats of villages. At Master Morcombe's house, the werewolf plays security guard, and a better one you could not find.
Madam Cortex, who owns the brothel, has many female employees, for there is something exotic about a girl who isn't all human. Besides, some men are a bit masochistic.
Be you master or be you slave, welcome!
- 34 posts here • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 3 authors
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(have to go unfortunately will be on tomorow)
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"Another one," he said, apparently to himself, pushing his glasses up his face and then giving a sigh. "They're all in the sitting area, if you want to join them."
He didn't seem to want to give any more instruction, or even an explanation as to what he meant. He hadn't even allowed the man to explain himself, but if the man had smelled him, he would have smelled Vampire.
"Who is it, Magnus?" said a female voice and beyond the door, stood upon a long staircase and dressed in a long white gown, very simple in style, was a young girl of around 15.
She had long black hair, like a raven's wing and a huge blue eye. The other was covered by a very heavy fringe.
"Another for your father, Mistress," he said, turning and smiling at the young figure and there was obvious affection there. "I was going to...."
"Come in from the cold," said the girl, descending the stairs slowly. "What is your name?"
The butler, Magnus, bowed and gestured for him to come in, moving aside. It was obvious who was master here.
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"It is a pleasure to meet you, Alisaiter Wattson," she said, giving a small curtsy from her position on the stairs. "Father is always looking for people of special talents to employ."
She didn't say monsters, nor did she say special talents, as if it were a secret. Her tone said that this was, to her, normal.
She looked at him carefully, coming somewhat closer.
"May I ask what you are?" she said boldly. There was no insult there, no sneer. Her tone was so normal that she might have been asking what the weather was like.
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"Your species?" she said, with polite puzzlement on her face, looking to Markus. "Is that the new word for it?"
Markus having finished coughing, composed his face.
"My lady, please speak plainly," said Markus, giving a short bow.
She looked back to Alistair. "My apologies, Klaude does say that I ask questions difficult to interpret. What I meant was, what do you do, for work I mean? Where do your talents lie?"
It must have been very confusing, not to mention odd, that a girl that was far too young to be interviewing him for a position, was asking him all these questions. Yet Markus, the butler who at least appeared to be the same age if not a little older than Alistair, was not trying to let him escape. Perhaps he was enjoying this.
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"Protection," she repeated, her blue eyes looking straight into his without breaking contact.
"My lady," said Markus. "I should...."
"You should be still, Markus," she said, sounding older suddenly, her eyes still on Alistair, the piercing blue looking straight through him.
It was hard to determine the girls age. Sometimes she sounded barely 12 or 13, other times she seemed at least 6 years older.
Finally she moved her eyes from him to Markus.
"Take him to father," she said. "Tell him I insist he see's Mr Alistrair Wattson right now."
"Yes, my lady," he said, bowing. "This way, sir."
Markus lead him from the entrance hall, which was large and through rooms that were double their size. He didn't speak, just walked with the air of a man who would not stop until his mission was complete.
The girl didn't follow, but her gaze remained on him until they were gone from it.
He pushed the door open to a small room.
"Please wait here," said Markus, giving a short bow and then moving through the room's only other door. When he opened it, it was easy to hear the voices that were muffled before.
"I think he would make an excellent gardener," said a smooth male voice.
"You think so?" said one that sounded a little older.
"With those claws," continued first voice. "He'd....."
Then the words because muffled as he closed the door.
The conversation beyond the door would have been easy to hear for a werewolf, or anyone with good hearing.
"Markus? Is there something wrong?" said the older voice.
"No, sir. My lord, Lady Cassandra has sent me on an errand."
The smoother voice sounded amused. "And what does she have you doing now."
"There is a gentleman seeking employment beyond the door which I have just come through. Lady Cassandra would wish you to see him next."
"Would she?" said the smoother voice.
"There is a group still waiting," said the older.
"Yes there is, My Lord, but Lady Casandra expresses this wish."
There was a pause, before the smoother voice said, "his speciality?"
"Personal protection sir," said Markus. "Lady Casandra has already anticipated you."
"Do we not have enough body guards?" said the smoother voice.
"Lord Morcombe does have several," said the older voice.
"Lord Morcombe is very paranoid," said the smoother voice. "But perhaps we can fine something."
Markus reappeared at the door, gesturing for Alistair to walk through and then left him.
The door was a small single side door to the room, the other, double doors being larger and opposite the large desk. There were two men behind it, the one seated was an older man, with a moustache and glasses. The standing gentleman could have been around Markus's age, twenties, with black hair and dressed like a butler. He also had red eyes.
"Please be seated," said the older man nodding to the only other chair in the room.
This chair was very simple, though not uncomfortable. It was also directly opposite two men.
"How can we help you?" said the older man.
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"Yes, there seems to be many in seek of work," said the man, leaning forward to look at the man before him. "You have come to a household that sees vast importance in employing those with special gifts."
The butler behind him bustled and poured tea for the older gentleman.
"So, young man," said the man. "If you care to give me a name and some of the responsibilities you had, within your role?"
The butler leaned down and whispered something in the old man's ear, making him frown then nod.
"Thank you, Michael," said the old man, as Michael moved to dust the shelves.
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The older man nodded.
"Any special skilled?" he continued gently.
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"I'm a werewolf if that's any added bonus" he added shrugging his shoulders.
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"That's something we don't have," said the man without shock. "So a keen sense of smell, excellent hearing?"
The butler with red eyes said nothing, with a smile upon his face.
"And your changing pattern?" said the man, without any ceremony. "Is it by lunar cycle or at will?"
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"Could you go back into the room you have just come from?" said the old gentleman softly, gesturing to the door which Michael moved to open. "I'll speak to you in just a moment."
Michael nodded and gestured for him to take a seat, then went back into the other room, with his master, closing the door carefully behind him. There was a woman in the room where Alistair now sat. She didn't look around as he entered, but carried on cleaning. She was currently dusting the shelves on the opposite side of the room. There was also music playing on a small record player, which she was humming to.
There was no noise coming from the room where the man and his servant were. Either there was no conversation to be had or he simply couldn't hear it.
It was 10 minutes before Michael returned, his master behind him. He moved over to where the record was playing and turned it off. The female froze, paused perfectly in the moment she was cleaning. She looked surreal, stood there, a statue. Michael rejoined his master.
"A couple of details we must sort through," the older man said. "Firstly your name, secondly your accommodation."
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"I shall leave you with my manservant to take care of the details," he said, standing slowly. "I shall speak to you soon, Mr Wattson."
Michael bowed as his master vacated the room once more.
"Follow me, Alistair," he said, heading to the music to put it back on again, watching as the female began her task as if she had never paused. Michael gestured to the door before walking through.
"My master has asked me to extend the position of Security Guard for the perimeter of the house and grounds. He believes that, with your natural talents, this position will serve him well, and will play to your strengths." He gave Alistair and amused smile. "After all, when you're a wolf, you can simply play guard dog."
He continued his path, not waiting for a response from Alistair.
"As for seeking a residence, that would be rather pointless. The Master has quarters for all his staff members. You would sleep in there during the day, but at night you would be on shift. Your time in the day, from just after sunrise to just before sunset, would be your own to do as you please. You will not be permitted to enter the house."
Micheal, opened a door which lead to a kitchen where several people worked. They passed through it without pausing, though there was the smell of monsters, as well as food in the air. At least 2 vampires, a boogey man and a shapeshifter.
"You will report directly to me," he continued, "so you will not need to disturb the master. You will call him, my lord or master should you ever speak to him and you can call me Michael."
They were now on a long corridor full of doors. It was quiet down here, no one milling around.
"This is the servants quarters," he said, not stopping. "Each servant has their own room. You will not enter anyone elses room and they shall not enter yours. Should there be a reason for security that you need to enter another's room, you will report to me and then I shall decide."
He stopped suddenly, turning to face Alistair. To his right was a door.
"Any questions."
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(going to be now will post tomrow.)
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"Your uniform will consist of two separate uniforms, since you have certain needs," he said, pushing the door.
The room wasn't small, nor was it large and grand. It was simple and plain, with only a few items of furniture around.
Michael walked to the wardrobe and opened it, showing a simple uniform of consisting grey and brown and then opened a drawer. A Dog colar.
"You shall wear the collar the entire time," said Michael. "Human or not. It will ensure that, should you change, we know who you are."
He closed the drawer.
"Settle yourself, then come to the kitchen. I shall show you the grounds."
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"Eat up," called the human, not bothering to turn around. "You'll need it."
The setting changes from Victorian - I will allow steam punk to Morkale Estate
Setting
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It was a grand place, obviously worth more money than most could have even dreamed of, but yet no one had ever stole from it. There was no doubt that the Morkale's were rich and a perfect target, apart from one simple fact. Their staff was made up of very unusual people and most of those who had attempted to seek their fortune had never returned. Those who did dared not speak of what they had seen.
The Morkale's were not alone in their choice of staffing desires, but they boasted one of the largest communities of such people in the whole of London, at least to their knowledge anyway. They didn't hire ordinary staff members.
The Morkale's employed Monsters.
London had, not so long ago, realised that Boogey-Men and such were not just idle stories to tell children, but did indeed exist and were now becoming increasingly most noticeable. No one knew if there was simply more moving into the area, or if they were just being more obvious.
This transition was not all smooth. Many feared these creatures, driving them away and causing more than one blood bath as they protected themselves. The humans feared what they would do so attacked them. The Monster's defended themselves and did what the human's feared.
It was Queen Victoria who passed the judgement that all should get along, but there was still much persecuted. Monsters found it hard to find positions where they would be accepted and be able to work without worry.
The Morkale's were one of the first families to take on demonic and monstrous staff. This was two generations before the current Master of the Morkale estate, and they found that these creatures were their best ever asset. Since they have only ever employed those who had extraordinary talents.
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As Elsten walked the plants near him seemed to want to follow along but their roots prevented them from doing so. Upon reaching the front doors to the huge home Elsten knocked on the door- knock, knock, knock! - the sound rang through the front room. As Elsten awaited an answer he started to speak with the plants around the front door. "How are you little guys this fine day.....Oh really? Have you had plenty of food?.......That's good to hear. I might be joining you in living at this establishment soon."
Setting
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"Another one," he said, apparently to himself, pushing his glasses up his face and then giving a sigh. "They're all in the sitting area, if you want to join them."
He didn't seem to want to give any more instruction, or even an explanation as to what he meant. He hadn't even allowed the boy to explain himself, but if the boy had smelled him, he would have smelled Vampire.
"Who is it, Magnus?" said a female voice and beyond the door, stood upon a long staircase and dressed in a long white gown, very simple in style, was a young girl of around 15.
She had long black hair, like a raven's wing and a huge blue eye. The other was covered by a very heavy fringe.
"Another for your father, Mistress," he said, turning and smiling at the young figure and there was obvious affection there. "I was going to...."
"Come in from the cold," said the girl, descending the stairs slowly. "What is your name?"
The butler, Magnus, bowed and gestured for him to come in, moving aside. It was obvious who was master here.
- 34 posts here • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
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Elsten Stephen Phallis IV
A demon of the forest isn't only good with gardening.
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Morkale Estate Owner: RolePlayGateway
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