This group has been archived by its founder. It may still be viewed, but can no longer be joined or posted to.
It was nearing 2am when the key burned itself into existence amongst the personal belongings of it's prospective holder. When it was finally noticed it would be laying delicately, looking like it belonged with everything else, and yet there would be no explanation of how it had arrived there, no clue as to what had left it there, though indeed nothing had.
It emitted an odd energy about it, the longer he looked at the small, silver, winged key, the stronger the urge to pick it up would become. It would be easy enough to ignore, but the longer he stared at it, the stronger the impulse would become. If he gave in and picked it up, the key would feel warm, and buzzing with magical energy. It felt alive in an odd way, but of course, it did nothing else to suggest this.
As he held it in his hand it would influence him to find the nearest key hole. The urge to slot the key into that keyhole would be overwhelming, though logically there was no way it should fit.
It emitted an odd energy about it, the longer he looked at the small, silver, winged key, the stronger the urge to pick it up would become. It would be easy enough to ignore, but the longer he stared at it, the stronger the impulse would become. If he gave in and picked it up, the key would feel warm, and buzzing with magical energy. It felt alive in an odd way, but of course, it did nothing else to suggest this.
As he held it in his hand it would influence him to find the nearest key hole. The urge to slot the key into that keyhole would be overwhelming, though logically there was no way it should fit.
The atmosphere of inns and expensive hotels had become so familiar that it would be easy to consider all of them his home. He did own several nice properties across Europe, and he enjoyed them when he could. But, equally as much, he enjoyed traveling. It was one of his favorite recreational pastimes. And, thankfully, it was not a difficult one to indulge, for one with an occupation as lucrative as his. Indeed traveling to exotic locales was often a requirement, not a perk.
And so, it was in one such hotel in Ukraine that Mihai sat, in a rather comfortable armchair in a common room near the lobby, one leg crossed neatly over the other and a journal balanced open upon his knee. It was rather late. And he was feeling rather tired. The sun would yet to arrive for another few hours still, but meetings with representatives of the Russian Government had left him feeling drained. Boring round-table conversations normally did.
It was quiet as well as comfortable. The scribble of his pen laying ink onto paper in neat lines was the only sound, apart from the tick-tock of a grandfather clock looming from the far end of the room, and the smoldering fire in the stone fireplace across from him, which was the common room's only current source of light. Many different pairs of eyes watched him, from the numerous oil paintings hung tastefully upon the walls, historical figures staring at him warily from a distance, safe behind the cover of the dark, and the shelter of their ornamental wooden frames.
It was when he reached slowly for a different writing utensil from the assortment he'd placed on an adjacent end table that he found the key, silver and adorned with a small pair of wings, resting amongst his pencils and pens. He looked upon it as though he'd expected it, as if it were a letter that had just been delivered by courier. Slowly, his journal was closed, and his writing utensils replaced, all returning to their places of rest within his gray, high-collared coat.
The halls were empty at that hour, save for the occasional bleary-eyed member of the hotel staff. His footsteps reverberated through the empty halls, the clack of his boots sharp against the polished wooden floors, as he proceeded to the door to his hotel room, whereupon he applied the key to the door's decades-old lock, slender porcelain fingers gently applying rotation.
And so, it was in one such hotel in Ukraine that Mihai sat, in a rather comfortable armchair in a common room near the lobby, one leg crossed neatly over the other and a journal balanced open upon his knee. It was rather late. And he was feeling rather tired. The sun would yet to arrive for another few hours still, but meetings with representatives of the Russian Government had left him feeling drained. Boring round-table conversations normally did.
It was quiet as well as comfortable. The scribble of his pen laying ink onto paper in neat lines was the only sound, apart from the tick-tock of a grandfather clock looming from the far end of the room, and the smoldering fire in the stone fireplace across from him, which was the common room's only current source of light. Many different pairs of eyes watched him, from the numerous oil paintings hung tastefully upon the walls, historical figures staring at him warily from a distance, safe behind the cover of the dark, and the shelter of their ornamental wooden frames.
It was when he reached slowly for a different writing utensil from the assortment he'd placed on an adjacent end table that he found the key, silver and adorned with a small pair of wings, resting amongst his pencils and pens. He looked upon it as though he'd expected it, as if it were a letter that had just been delivered by courier. Slowly, his journal was closed, and his writing utensils replaced, all returning to their places of rest within his gray, high-collared coat.
The halls were empty at that hour, save for the occasional bleary-eyed member of the hotel staff. His footsteps reverberated through the empty halls, the clack of his boots sharp against the polished wooden floors, as he proceeded to the door to his hotel room, whereupon he applied the key to the door's decades-old lock, slender porcelain fingers gently applying rotation.
As he turned the key, the door would unlock against every odd that the key would even fit such a random lock. The door swung open, and much to the surprise of the person on the other side of the door, it opened to a field rather then the hallway he would have expected to see.
It was dark, and warm out in the field, the air humid as if it had been raining earlier. The grass was tall, and led down a steep hill towards a large castle standing on the edge of a cliff surrounded by a large garden filled with immaculately groomed twisted and sparse trees and shrubs, manipulated and pruned to look half dead. There were no stars, no moon in the sky, though there was not a cloud in sight either, and yet there was an odd luminescence in the area, with no clue as to where it could be coming from.
It was dark, and warm out in the field, the air humid as if it had been raining earlier. The grass was tall, and led down a steep hill towards a large castle standing on the edge of a cliff surrounded by a large garden filled with immaculately groomed twisted and sparse trees and shrubs, manipulated and pruned to look half dead. There were no stars, no moon in the sky, though there was not a cloud in sight either, and yet there was an odd luminescence in the area, with no clue as to where it could be coming from.
Mihai drifted through the grass like a ghost. Had the heavenly bodies been present on the vast, empty canvas above, it would have been a perfect, beautiful evening. The thin blades parted in front of him as he advanced, sealing again behind him shortly after he'd passed. Steadily, he descended the hillside toward the imposing castle, and the garden that was its vanguard.
Like a wraith, Mihai glided through the garden. It was a garden of death, and he seemed to belong there. Perhaps it was his pale skin, black hair, and gray coat. Or, perhaps, it was the way he moved, and his unassuming appearance belied something hidden. Something terrible.
As he coasted through the knee-high mist that hung low over the ground, bathing the gnarled, twisted branches of the surrounding plants, and drew closer to the castle that loomed imposing overhead, Mihai approached a large wooden door of a sort that belonged to a castle. Large, studded with iron, and split down the middle, with two large, iron rings on either side. Mihai stepped past the bent shrubbery and decorative masonry of the garden, and ascended the wide stone steps that led to the door, its thick stone frame casting a shadow across him as if to proffer the suggestion that he didn't belong there.
He reached out, took a firm grip on one of the large iron rings, and banged it against the door once, twice, three times, very loudly. And then he waited.
Like a wraith, Mihai glided through the garden. It was a garden of death, and he seemed to belong there. Perhaps it was his pale skin, black hair, and gray coat. Or, perhaps, it was the way he moved, and his unassuming appearance belied something hidden. Something terrible.
As he coasted through the knee-high mist that hung low over the ground, bathing the gnarled, twisted branches of the surrounding plants, and drew closer to the castle that loomed imposing overhead, Mihai approached a large wooden door of a sort that belonged to a castle. Large, studded with iron, and split down the middle, with two large, iron rings on either side. Mihai stepped past the bent shrubbery and decorative masonry of the garden, and ascended the wide stone steps that led to the door, its thick stone frame casting a shadow across him as if to proffer the suggestion that he didn't belong there.
He reached out, took a firm grip on one of the large iron rings, and banged it against the door once, twice, three times, very loudly. And then he waited.
Professor Mordock Nightfall (played by Strangedisease)
Topic Starter
Villain
September 12 2014
3:50pm
He would be able to approach the castle seemingly unnoticed, the whole place having a dead and deserted feeling that would have chilled the soul of a lesser man then he who seemed to fit so well with the surroundings.
The castle seemed to give off the sense of emptiness, one might even assume that it had been abandoned at first, as the whole area seemed lonely, so far away from anywhere familiar, and indeed it was. Some people were able to sense it, other were not, but the visitor was no longer even in the same realm of reality he had been before stepping through the door.
The sound of the iron knocker being sounded reverberated seemingly forever through the stone monolith that was The Professor's home, and as it's last trembles echoed in the distance the door began to open, the doors pushing outward and open though the person operating said doors was nowhere to be seen, the inside hall as empty as the outside. The hall was somewhat under furnished, but had a vaguely Victorian Gothic theme to it's design, and was complete with a red runner carpet that ran down the length of the room, and up a great staircase that split it two directions, on side darkened, so dark in fact that one could not even see inches in front of their face, despite their propensity to see in the absence of light, this side of the hall had a sort of unnatural and terrifying feeling to it, as if something watched you from behind the veil of darkness, but silent and not leaving a hint of it's nature.
To the left the hall was far less foreboding, well lit by candles lining the walls, and the hint of smooth jazz, seemingly inappropriate for the supposed time period of the house, coming from the door, opened just a crack at the end of the hall, a flicker of light seen through it,and the wave of warmth suggesting an inviting fire to sit by, and possibly a person attending it, whereas the rest of the house seemed devoid of life.
The castle seemed to give off the sense of emptiness, one might even assume that it had been abandoned at first, as the whole area seemed lonely, so far away from anywhere familiar, and indeed it was. Some people were able to sense it, other were not, but the visitor was no longer even in the same realm of reality he had been before stepping through the door.
The sound of the iron knocker being sounded reverberated seemingly forever through the stone monolith that was The Professor's home, and as it's last trembles echoed in the distance the door began to open, the doors pushing outward and open though the person operating said doors was nowhere to be seen, the inside hall as empty as the outside. The hall was somewhat under furnished, but had a vaguely Victorian Gothic theme to it's design, and was complete with a red runner carpet that ran down the length of the room, and up a great staircase that split it two directions, on side darkened, so dark in fact that one could not even see inches in front of their face, despite their propensity to see in the absence of light, this side of the hall had a sort of unnatural and terrifying feeling to it, as if something watched you from behind the veil of darkness, but silent and not leaving a hint of it's nature.
To the left the hall was far less foreboding, well lit by candles lining the walls, and the hint of smooth jazz, seemingly inappropriate for the supposed time period of the house, coming from the door, opened just a crack at the end of the hall, a flicker of light seen through it,and the wave of warmth suggesting an inviting fire to sit by, and possibly a person attending it, whereas the rest of the house seemed devoid of life.
His bangs shifted on the wind as the door opened inward, the mist that lingered outside rushing in like a rising tide. His footsteps fell muted upon the red fabric that adorned the floor. He appeared disinterested in his surroundings as he proceeded forward, a small figure in a massive space, like a raindrop sliding down a window. He migrated from one end to the other, then took a left, ignoring the peculiar dichotomy of the steps that he lifted his feet to ascend.
His abnormal pallor was made more apparent by the light cast from the numerous candles, his skin almost seeming to glow at regular intervals as he passed each of them by. He stopped briefly before the door to listen. The music was familiar. It transported him back to a time, not so long ago, in the grandest scheme. An interesting time. And then, such thoughts brought him to those of interesting times to come. And he appeared before the door like the shadow of a man unseen, peering in with eyes that burned from his silhouette like two points of molten crimson.
His abnormal pallor was made more apparent by the light cast from the numerous candles, his skin almost seeming to glow at regular intervals as he passed each of them by. He stopped briefly before the door to listen. The music was familiar. It transported him back to a time, not so long ago, in the grandest scheme. An interesting time. And then, such thoughts brought him to those of interesting times to come. And he appeared before the door like the shadow of a man unseen, peering in with eyes that burned from his silhouette like two points of molten crimson.
Professor Mordock Nightfall (played by Strangedisease)
Topic Starter
Villain
September 16 2014
8:06am
The room, as he peered into it, was more brightly lit then the rest of the mansion, filled with warm fire light, and the glow of the moon outside filtering through the window as if it was framed there.
The room itself was a somewhat victorian looking sitting room, complete with a pair of high backed, decorative arm chairs facing a large stone hearthed fireplace, with a wooden table placed between them, with a crystal challis filled with brandy on top, sitting next to two matching brandy glasses, one of which was half full. The walls were lined with shelves that held books and baubles from all over the world, and more ovr from multiple different eras. Old leather books, high tech thingy-majiggers, an old record player which crooned out that smooth jazz from before, literally hundreds of odd objects, all seemingly innocuous, but displayed 9on the shelves as if they were of great importance giving the room a bit of an over-cluttered feel.
In one of the armchairs sat an older gentleman with softly greying hair, a pleasant wrinkled face, and the loudest purple suit since Prince. He did not seem to look back at his newly arrived visitor, though there was no doubt he'd noticed him, as his hand gestured idly to the empty chair beside him. "No need to stand out in the hall good sir, please, come have a sit and a nip of Brandy."
The room itself was a somewhat victorian looking sitting room, complete with a pair of high backed, decorative arm chairs facing a large stone hearthed fireplace, with a wooden table placed between them, with a crystal challis filled with brandy on top, sitting next to two matching brandy glasses, one of which was half full. The walls were lined with shelves that held books and baubles from all over the world, and more ovr from multiple different eras. Old leather books, high tech thingy-majiggers, an old record player which crooned out that smooth jazz from before, literally hundreds of odd objects, all seemingly innocuous, but displayed 9on the shelves as if they were of great importance giving the room a bit of an over-cluttered feel.
In one of the armchairs sat an older gentleman with softly greying hair, a pleasant wrinkled face, and the loudest purple suit since Prince. He did not seem to look back at his newly arrived visitor, though there was no doubt he'd noticed him, as his hand gestured idly to the empty chair beside him. "No need to stand out in the hall good sir, please, come have a sit and a nip of Brandy."
There was a lengthy pause, the dark figure in the doorway absorbing his environment through those two burning points. For a moment, one might doubt there was truly anyone there at all. Slowly, he stepped from the shadow of the door, the firelight illuminating his flawless, ceramic skin, and the unnaturally-sharp features of his face. His expression remained steadfastly neutral as he glided soundlessly across the floor, to position himself before the vacant armchair, and slowly lower himself in. He crossed one leg comfortably over the other, sitting at once as if he belonged there. His elbows rested upon the chair's arms, and his fingers intertwined as his palms rested before his chest. The flames reflected in his eyes, stone gray, like a tombstone. He remained wordless for some time, almost seeming to fade into his surroundings, as if the room were just one instant in all of time, captured in an oil painting on someone's wall.
Without warning, he spoke, his voice departing from between his lips like a curl of frigid smoke. "I understand you seek my assistance in matters some would deem unsavory."
Without warning, he spoke, his voice departing from between his lips like a curl of frigid smoke. "I understand you seek my assistance in matters some would deem unsavory."
Professor Mordock Nightfall (played by Strangedisease)
Topic Starter
Villain
September 22 2014
9:24am
His silent and somewhat creepy manner were not lost on the Professor who appreciated such things immensely. He did not seem put off by it, but rather intrigued as his own eyes, wrinkled with laugh lines, and oddly kind for a man of dubious nature ran over the man approvingly. He did seem to fit into the atmosphere of the room, and Mordock liked things that fit.
Professor Nigthfall gestured towards the decanter of Brandy and the small empty glass waiting there for him seemingly, though Mordock hadn't seemed to be expecting him exactly. The Key chose for itself who it allowed through, and Mordock was used to having regular drop ins to his cozy, personal dimension home.
At the man's words The Professor chuckled. "Your eagerness to speak business is admirable, but I prefer to do things at a classier pace. Before we speak in regards of unsavory deeds, I would prefer to know you are the man I'd like in the position. Please, tell me about yourself sir, perhaps starting with your name. I am the illustrious and infamous Professor Mordock Nightfall, you may have heard of me?" There was a good chance he hadn't but Mordock liked to believe his infamy was boundless.
Professor Nigthfall gestured towards the decanter of Brandy and the small empty glass waiting there for him seemingly, though Mordock hadn't seemed to be expecting him exactly. The Key chose for itself who it allowed through, and Mordock was used to having regular drop ins to his cozy, personal dimension home.
At the man's words The Professor chuckled. "Your eagerness to speak business is admirable, but I prefer to do things at a classier pace. Before we speak in regards of unsavory deeds, I would prefer to know you are the man I'd like in the position. Please, tell me about yourself sir, perhaps starting with your name. I am the illustrious and infamous Professor Mordock Nightfall, you may have heard of me?" There was a good chance he hadn't but Mordock liked to believe his infamy was boundless.
He reached slowly for the decanter, after a moment, white fingers curling gently around its neck, and deposited a measure of the amber liquid into its preordained glass. The fingers left the bottle and draped gently around the glass, drawing it closer, but not lifting it from the table, just yet. He appeared to take careful thought in the preparation of his words. Whether it was his demeanor to do so or a facade remained to be seen.
He turned his eyes upon his hand, and the glass cradled within.
"Oftentimes, those that deal in darkness draw back when light approaches, as their motives would be revealed. I do not expect to have prior knowledge of you, nor do I expect you to have knowledge of me. But, Herr Doktor, that may change. Commonly, prospective employers refrain from asking my name, for they prefer not my company, but that of my deeds. But, as this meeting falls under a certain category of unorthodoxy, I will oblige. I am Mihai Korzha. And should this meeting prove conducive to both parties, I shall be at your service."
He turned his eyes upon his hand, and the glass cradled within.
"Oftentimes, those that deal in darkness draw back when light approaches, as their motives would be revealed. I do not expect to have prior knowledge of you, nor do I expect you to have knowledge of me. But, Herr Doktor, that may change. Commonly, prospective employers refrain from asking my name, for they prefer not my company, but that of my deeds. But, as this meeting falls under a certain category of unorthodoxy, I will oblige. I am Mihai Korzha. And should this meeting prove conducive to both parties, I shall be at your service."
Professor Mordock Nightfall (played by Strangedisease)
Topic Starter
Villain
September 25 2014
11:11am
The Professor smiled thinly, though it was no less sincere then it had ever been. " It is a pleasure Mihai Korzha." He started as he lifted his glass to his lips and took a long sip of the amber liquid held inside, swishing it over his tongue twice before swallowing it down, and continuing.
"I believe you will find I am not a common employer at all. Of course your deeds are of interest to me, but so is your person. I think people who do not take the time to know who they employ, will find that those with easily swayed loyalties can easily slip into their ranks. I am in need of someone who will get their hands dirty for me, on a long term commitment basis, and knowing the character of the person I choose for this position before I make my decision is of utmost importance."
"I believe you will find I am not a common employer at all. Of course your deeds are of interest to me, but so is your person. I think people who do not take the time to know who they employ, will find that those with easily swayed loyalties can easily slip into their ranks. I am in need of someone who will get their hands dirty for me, on a long term commitment basis, and knowing the character of the person I choose for this position before I make my decision is of utmost importance."
The edges of his mouth twitched upward slightly, betraying a tinge of amusement.
"Loyalty. It is a noble prospect, Doktor. Such a trait is admirable. Such days when loyalty to others was prevalent have departed, it seems. But, I am confident that you will find that I am quite loyal. Faithful. Zealous, even. But, to alleviate any pretense of myself being a dishonest man, I must admit that my loyalty lies not with you, but with something that wields so much power that the borders of the world have shifted shape, time and again, depending on where the most of it lies."
At his last words, he gestured to a pocket on the inner surface of his coat, one that would be very useful for carrying one's personal bank notes.
"But, fret not. My services go to the highest bidder, yes, but the solution to keep an ironclad grip on my chain is as simple as they come. Simply pay me the most."
He lifted his own glass and let a thin stream of the drink run over his tongue, before returning it to its place of rest.
"And yet, the real world as most know it is seldom so black and white. Who can tell? Perhaps, Herr Doktor, I possess a sense of whimsy. I may eventually surprise you."
"Loyalty. It is a noble prospect, Doktor. Such a trait is admirable. Such days when loyalty to others was prevalent have departed, it seems. But, I am confident that you will find that I am quite loyal. Faithful. Zealous, even. But, to alleviate any pretense of myself being a dishonest man, I must admit that my loyalty lies not with you, but with something that wields so much power that the borders of the world have shifted shape, time and again, depending on where the most of it lies."
At his last words, he gestured to a pocket on the inner surface of his coat, one that would be very useful for carrying one's personal bank notes.
"But, fret not. My services go to the highest bidder, yes, but the solution to keep an ironclad grip on my chain is as simple as they come. Simply pay me the most."
He lifted his own glass and let a thin stream of the drink run over his tongue, before returning it to its place of rest.
"And yet, the real world as most know it is seldom so black and white. Who can tell? Perhaps, Herr Doktor, I possess a sense of whimsy. I may eventually surprise you."
Mordock laughed, a loud, rumbling delight of a laugh, that suggested that he found Mihai's answer both acceptable and amusing. He again paused to sip at his glass of brandy languidly, clearly not one to be rushed over any matter.
"Let me ask then, what you would consider acceptable payment. Am I right in believing it would be defined as what benefits you most, or are you more of a gold man? What I offer isn't necessarily riches, though at times it certainly will be. My offer of preference however, are dreams. The things people see as out of reach and distant and seemingly unobtainable... I strive to capture those realities for those im my employ, and provide what money cannot offer."
There was a pause of thought as he considered another reality brought on by the man's admission. "Tell me good sir, but what is your protocol if one is to outbid another. Could I be assured that you would come to me first to make sure I can't outbid my opposition? Or would you simply approach the best immediate deal?"
"Let me ask then, what you would consider acceptable payment. Am I right in believing it would be defined as what benefits you most, or are you more of a gold man? What I offer isn't necessarily riches, though at times it certainly will be. My offer of preference however, are dreams. The things people see as out of reach and distant and seemingly unobtainable... I strive to capture those realities for those im my employ, and provide what money cannot offer."
There was a pause of thought as he considered another reality brought on by the man's admission. "Tell me good sir, but what is your protocol if one is to outbid another. Could I be assured that you would come to me first to make sure I can't outbid my opposition? Or would you simply approach the best immediate deal?"
In the wake of the Doctor's laughter, his face was occupied by a rather terrible smile. One that could freeze water. He made to drink more of the liquid from his glass, but took to smelling it instead.
"There are many things that I want, Herr Doktor. I do not doubt that you have the resources to grant a variety of interesting boons to your subordinates, but for the time being, a monetary boon will suffice."
He bid the company of the drink's smoldering aroma goodbye, and set the glass back down again on their shared table, letting his chin rest idly perched atop the fingers of his left hand, elbow resting comfortably on his chair's obedient leather arm.
"Ohhh," he continued, sighing his expression, "Herr Doktor.. You wound me. I have done my best to appear before you as an honest man. I had felt I'd made that clear. And yet, you would appear to doubt me?"
And yet, he didn't sound insulted. If anything, he sounded amused. Pleasantly entertained, even. The edges of that terrible smile spread upward even further. One could almost hear the crackling of ice in the air between them.
"There are many things that I want, Herr Doktor. I do not doubt that you have the resources to grant a variety of interesting boons to your subordinates, but for the time being, a monetary boon will suffice."
He bid the company of the drink's smoldering aroma goodbye, and set the glass back down again on their shared table, letting his chin rest idly perched atop the fingers of his left hand, elbow resting comfortably on his chair's obedient leather arm.
"Ohhh," he continued, sighing his expression, "Herr Doktor.. You wound me. I have done my best to appear before you as an honest man. I had felt I'd made that clear. And yet, you would appear to doubt me?"
And yet, he didn't sound insulted. If anything, he sounded amused. Pleasantly entertained, even. The edges of that terrible smile spread upward even further. One could almost hear the crackling of ice in the air between them.
Mordock sighed dramatically. "I find currency ever so dull, but if that is what you wish, I'm sure I can find it in my heart to be accommodating." He simply hated to waste resource on something he thought so useless as money, but he was a fair man, and if reward needed to come with monetary value, and the person he intended to hire was worth the monotony of it, he could be reasoned with on that matter.
At Mihai's words regarding Mordock's earlier comment, the man chuckled delightfully with a shrug of his thin, aged shoulders. "I find honest men can still be practical good sir. Simply because you are truthful does not mean you are not an opportunist. I've known many an honest man interested in money above all including loyalty, and have no such wish to recruit someone of that nature. I find it tiresome to be constantly chasing after those in my employ."
At Mihai's words regarding Mordock's earlier comment, the man chuckled delightfully with a shrug of his thin, aged shoulders. "I find honest men can still be practical good sir. Simply because you are truthful does not mean you are not an opportunist. I've known many an honest man interested in money above all including loyalty, and have no such wish to recruit someone of that nature. I find it tiresome to be constantly chasing after those in my employ."
Mihai's expression softened slightly, and he returned the Doctor's words with a sage nod. "A fair answer.. I offer my apologies, I do tend to enjoy playing word games with others.. But, you may rest assured that I will provide you with an opportunity to outbid another prospective benefactor, should the occasion arise.."
He laced his fingers together, placing his hands in his lap.
"And besides..I suspect that you may soon offer things to me that will arouse my interest far more than..petty cash."
He reclined his head against the back of his chair, looking upward through the window in the far wall. There was a good moon to be seen through it. "..This may sound a tad peculiar, Herr Doktor, but I think the moon may be playing games with us this evening.."
He laced his fingers together, placing his hands in his lap.
"And besides..I suspect that you may soon offer things to me that will arouse my interest far more than..petty cash."
He reclined his head against the back of his chair, looking upward through the window in the far wall. There was a good moon to be seen through it. "..This may sound a tad peculiar, Herr Doktor, but I think the moon may be playing games with us this evening.."
Moderators: Zelphyr