[ He'll accept 'basic' now, because that seems more and more like what this truly is - the first form of what became Dracula's castle. From here he can hear water rushing through metal veins, the same way it does back at the castle. The sound of it echoes through the hallways, along with the constant whining of those lights and the creaking an groaning of the first version of the engine.
(It really does sound pained. He can see how, thinking it a living creature, Leon would have wanted to comfort it. Even if his own thoughts on what to do about the sounds venture less toward 'comfort' and more toward 'put it out of its misery') ]
The theatre, then. That would be- this door, I think.
[ He pushes it open. The corridor behind it is dark, but a light at the far end means there must be another of those lamps around a corner somewhere. Even in the dark it is- overly decorated. ]
'Sara had heard rumour of a pair of performers found on the edges of the forest, half-dead, half-starved and half-mad. She bade Mathias ride out with her to tend their wounds and, once they could travel, had them brought back to the safety of the estate. Here she stayed with them, soothing the injuries done to their hearts with her healing presence as Mathias had soothed those done to their flesh, until they had the presence of mind to speak. This was how we came to learn of what Mathias calls the Ghost Theatre.
The Theatre was a gift, created to win the loyalty of Walter's most trusted general. Responsible for selecting and turning the poor cursed children who would become his soldiers, she possesses the power to appear in the form of the most sorely-missed love of her captives. The performers, both grown men who had seen her as their lovers, referred to her as the Succubus, but Mathias has taken to calling her the Matron, as he suspects that she controls the captives she turns by taking the forms of their mothers.
Though the Theatre is hers, the performers claim that Walter visited nightly to attend the performances. Some of these performances, such as the one that our informants were originally part of, were legitimate plays. This was how they were tempted to come to the castle, for love of their art, with promises of a great theatre to perform in, wearing costumes made of the finest and brightest cloth. Most were not. In some, the Matron would tell stories of terrible bloodshed, throwing human captives against their turned children or compelling them to fight amongst themselves. Others would be torture sessions or executions, and the two men who spoke to us told of seeing their troupemates skinned alive by her young soldiers.'
[ They're nearly at the end of the corridor as Trevor reaches the end of that, and around the corner is the source of the light - more of those lamps, illuminating a large and lavishly decorated room. Seats stetch out below them, all facing a massive stage.
Trevor moves on to the other passage that Leon had written on this place, later on in the journal. ]
'This being the domain of Walter's most favored general, it is also the location of the quarters of the army that she created for him. I wish, more truly than anything, that I had never come to learn this. I will write upon this no more, save to say that: To Rinaldo, brightest of Mathias' apprentices, best trusted ally of House Belmont, I am sorry.'
So I'm expecting a cheery sort of place. [ He adds dryly. ]
no subject
(It really does sound pained. He can see how, thinking it a living creature, Leon would have wanted to comfort it. Even if his own thoughts on what to do about the sounds venture less toward 'comfort' and more toward 'put it out of its misery') ]
The theatre, then. That would be- this door, I think.
[ He pushes it open. The corridor behind it is dark, but a light at the far end means there must be another of those lamps around a corner somewhere. Even in the dark it is- overly decorated. ]
'Sara had heard rumour of a pair of performers found on the edges of the forest, half-dead, half-starved and half-mad. She bade Mathias ride out with her to tend their wounds and, once they could travel, had them brought back to the safety of the estate. Here she stayed with them, soothing the injuries done to their hearts with her healing presence as Mathias had soothed those done to their flesh, until they had the presence of mind to speak. This was how we came to learn of what Mathias calls the Ghost Theatre.
The Theatre was a gift, created to win the loyalty of Walter's most trusted general. Responsible for selecting and turning the poor cursed children who would become his soldiers, she possesses the power to appear in the form of the most sorely-missed love of her captives. The performers, both grown men who had seen her as their lovers, referred to her as the Succubus, but Mathias has taken to calling her the Matron, as he suspects that she controls the captives she turns by taking the forms of their mothers.
Though the Theatre is hers, the performers claim that Walter visited nightly to attend the performances. Some of these performances, such as the one that our informants were originally part of, were legitimate plays. This was how they were tempted to come to the castle, for love of their art, with promises of a great theatre to perform in, wearing costumes made of the finest and brightest cloth. Most were not. In some, the Matron would tell stories of terrible bloodshed, throwing human captives against their turned children or compelling them to fight amongst themselves. Others would be torture sessions or executions, and the two men who spoke to us told of seeing their troupemates skinned alive by her young soldiers.'
[ They're nearly at the end of the corridor as Trevor reaches the end of that, and around the corner is the source of the light - more of those lamps, illuminating a large and lavishly decorated room. Seats stetch out below them, all facing a massive stage.
Trevor moves on to the other passage that Leon had written on this place, later on in the journal. ]
'This being the domain of Walter's most favored general, it is also the location of the quarters of the army that she created for him. I wish, more truly than anything, that I had never come to learn this. I will write upon this no more, save to say that: To Rinaldo, brightest of Mathias' apprentices, best trusted ally of House Belmont, I am sorry.'
So I'm expecting a cheery sort of place. [ He adds dryly. ]