Elemalle Moreau (ver_sigh) wrote in shadowrises, @ 2016-02-18 01:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: elemalle moreau, character: freya strand, character: isaac moreau, status: thread, type: in progress |
Who: Elemalle, Isaac, and Valentine's Gift
Where: 2nd floor of the Moreau's house
When: BACKDATED: Valentine's Day
What: The sweetest gift.
Je suis sous le charme.
It was only a matter of time before Isaac joined them; until that moment, Elemalle had the girl all to herself.
The prison cell looked more like a bedroom with wooden floors and pale blue wallpaper printed with swallows amidst vines and flowers framed with dark walnut baseboards and crown molding. The wavy panes of old glass, obscured by heavy lace curtains, allowed some sunlight in. They cast a pretty filigree pattern of shadow on the ground, the obfuscated beams highlighting the passage of traveling motes of dust. The occupied metal bed and flimsy covered mattress wasn't unique, there were two others just like it but empty, separated by nightstands and single lamps. The rest of the space in the long room was filled by two heavy chairs and a stout bookshelf.
It wasn't necessary, but the girl Elemalle had imprisoned there was bound at the wrists and ankles with leather straps connected to the slated head and foot board. Once she had woken up and the initial surge of adrenaline and panic had worn off the straps could be undone because even if freed there was no way she would be able to escape. In the hundred and seventy odd years she had been a part of the Moreau family they'd never lost a captive and they had held more impressive subjects than her gift to Isaac. The first thing Gaetan had taught her were the specific points in a vampire's body that could be pierced with the Needles, four inch long slivers of wood, to keep them weak and manageable but not so dependent that they couldn't take care of themselves. The girl Ele had chosen for Isaac was powerful. She'd had to utilize twelve slivers before she was sure it would take effect, the blood vessels that ran beneath the captive's perfect, pale skin dark with wood poisoning.
Leaning over the foot of the bed, she curled her fingers around the tops of Freya's feet. They were bare, her shoes and socks were the only thing she had taken from the girl, besides whatever she'd had in her pockets. "Hey," she sang softly, leaning over the bed. "How long are you going to sleep?"