Thread: Wavers of Reality  —   [& Journal]

CENTER Designed for Punishment This active RP is inspired by the Freezing season 1 Freezing Vibrations season 2 Anime series. The RP is set before Satellizer became a highly skilled Pandora at West Genetics who is to be known as the ruthless Untouchable Queen. It focuses on the incestuous relationship between Louis and Satellizer called Stella in the RP when Stella and her mother moved into L. Bridget mansion due to the mother's illness. However, her new half brother, Louis, mistreatments her and it turns into sexual abuse and Satellizer was young and forced to endure it as her mother was terminally ill and did not want their family situation to worsen. Her brother is the only one who has this submission affect on her. Due to the abuse she suffered she hates being touched and freaks out and gets cruel whenever someone touches her and it's how she earns the title of the Untouchable Queen. My partner and me plan on playing out the second half of the story as well, when Stella returns home for visit and sees her brother after all these years. This RP is reasonably detailed and dramatic in the senses aspect to really bring it to life. I play the lead female role, Stella. Part 1 part 2 in next post Stella Alongrutch-ElBridget was a product of an affair. And an affair was all it ever was. It had been decidedly agreed from her birth that Noelle Alongrutch, the mother of the child and mistress of Howard ElBridget would take full custody. Growing up, Stella had not been fortunate to have any other family members aside from her mother, even to get better acquainted with her father had not happened. She imagined he had been humble when he admitted to responsibilities of other duties. But all this was about to change. For all the countless days and years that she had been shielded from the fathers side of her family was about to bring her the shocks of all that had been missing. The mother and daughter were being moved into the L. Bridget's mansion under Howard's will due to the reason that she was suffering from a critical illness. Noelle did not hail from wealth and could no longer bear the burden of working, so regardless the subtle apprehension to accept Howards offer because of his lawful wife she graciously accepted having no other place to turn. The ElBridget family was of high nobility and prestige, rich with business holdings across the globe. It was also one of the movers-and-shakers behind the Chevalier organization. It was an elite military organization. The Chevalier had worldwide influence, shown when they were able to tarnish the opposing sides reputation of Mably Cooperation. The organization was very concerned with public approval and support, to the point they will spend large sums of money and man power to appease the public's concerns. The El'Bridget family had been deeply involved in the Chevalier since its founding. For the past hour the divots on the road aided in the shaking nervousness of Stella in the back seat of a spotless stretched black limo. She had been quiet, sometimes restlessly fidgeting with the ends of her breast-length golden locks, or even giving the impression of a weak attempt at a nap. Her mother sat across her with the dulled mousy brown hair suffocated against a tinted window, seeming to be in another place every time she coughed. Stella paused in her mess of self to steal concerned glances. Upon the slowing of the vibrating vehicle that reached a towered iron gate between equally tall stone slabs that surrounded a property, finally, Stella broke the extended silence, Mother, Im still terribly nervous. Everything is going to be okay. A weak smile crept on her lips it went with the tone of her voice. There is nothing to worry about, Stella dear. Once weve settled in the castle your nerves will pass. You are strong. There will be your sister and brother, Violet and Louis to keep you company. Louis is only about three or four years older than you, twenty or twenty-one, close to your age. Im sure hed like to show you around. Everything is going to be fine. I promise. But.. but why can we not stay with a friend, or someplace closer to home? There was urgency in her voice as if what she spoke was tangible, though she knew it was not and suddenly felt the need to address the pointless questions that she had kept suppressed for the sake of her mothers health. No one has that kind of time and space for an ill woman and her daughter. Noelle spoke in assuring whispers. Her dry lips cracking open past what they were accustom to when she proceeded, as though the speaking of her illness upset her, Can you not just adjust to the situation? Please. Stella. I am ill and is the place we have to go! Without clarity of breath, Im sorry! bellowed from Stellas full lips, now turning into a thin straight line startled by the turmoil she had caused her weak mother. There was no reason that the distance between the two families played any role for their presence into the household, for which she had no such records weather they would be accepted or treated as rejects. She should just assume that among these people were just the same and equal to her as human being, servant or ElBridget member. Then she could probably emit a more friendly and interesting nature when the family were to meet her. But she had this annoying habit of shyly interacting with people she just met. The car had stopped, the driver clicked the sliver door handle and the back door opened for them. There was no inquiring interest to see what was outside, but she looked hopefully to her mother for the strength to leave the car and climbed out with a sigh. Stella was clad in a fashionable above the knee navy blue skirt, pristine white short sleeved shirt with a sweet-heart necklace that barely revealed her cleavage it penciled the top of that creamy flesh. On her feet were simple black ballet style flats. Her blonde hair kept peeled from her pretty heart-shaped face, behind her ears. With the whine of the engine dying behind them, Stella stood on the alien land and gazed upon the large, intimidating castle encompassed by a ocean of glistening sea in front of her. Multiple slate stone towers elevated towards the sky that mimicked the wrought iron gates that first welcomed them onto the property. The anxiety in her eyes belied the tight smile she displayed for her mother who approached her side with a comforting hand caressing her back. She assured herself of her mothers words as they ascend up wide, shallow steps leading to the twenty foot ceiling height doors ajar. Thankfully no figures broke out of the opening. At first this gave her an unwinding ease of the mind, but when they reached the top still to see no member of the El Bridget to warmly greet them at the front of the door but one man, a servant attired in a clean, black suit, this fueled the worry within her wondering thoughts. This too took her mother by an almost expected astonishment. There seemed to be a force field at the threshold of the door acting as a means to ward them off. Guided by Noelle, they instantaneously broke past it and entered the strange mansion toward the politely servant waving them over. Stella was not sure if her mother felt it, she was uncertain if she had even felt it the resistance that cut through her being. One that was rewriting the code of her future. Sir? The young servant girl's voice broke slightly as she called out, the word coming out hesitantly, as if she didn't really want to be heard. She stood in the door to the master bedroom of the west wing of the massive household, the mahogany door only slightly ajar so she could peek her head in. She was a young girl, barely past her teens, short red hair hanging like two curtains around a youthful, wide-eyed face as she peered into the room, taking in the sheer size of it, and the luxurious furniture and art which adorned it. In public, the young master was always smiling and treating everyone cordially, so the trepidation of the maid might have seemed completely unfounded for the uninitiated, as the son of Howard and Olivia El'Bridget was considered to be a very pleasant young man to be around, both in formal events and during meals at the mansion. However, in the servant halls and sleeping quarters nervous whispers were exchanged between the female servants of the household, with flickering, frightened eyes and hushed voices, over the true nature of the blonde-haired, twenty year old son. Rumours and gossip, never really tangible or proven, circulated among the women who kept the mansion running, that Louis El'Bridget was a completely different man behind closed doors, and that anyone who stirred his ire would quickly come to regret it. S-sir? the young girl tried again, louder this time, though her wide emerald eyes, tinted with a hint of frightened moisture, made it obvious she would rather have been anywhere else at the moment. Why did it have to be her who was tasked with going to the young master's bedroom? She was one of the new girls to have come to the mansion just recently, and the older girls had dumped this task on her, knowing that going to the private quarters of the young man was truly to play with fire. A quiet whimper left her lips as she shuffled into the room, gazing around with wide eyes, like a deer which expected to be attacked and mauled to death at any given moment. Yes? came a calm, patient voice from the opposite end of the room, and the poor young girl almost jumped in the air, terrified emerald eyes swinging in the direction the voice had come from. A moment later, a warm blush spread rapidly over her pale cheeks, and she hastily withdrew her eyes. The voice had originated from the adjoining bathroom attached to the master bedroom, and now the owner of the masculine tone had appeared in the door, dressed in nothing more than a soft, white towel and a questioning gaze, directed at the girl who now bashfully turned her green orbs away, suddenly finding the soft carpet much more interesting. I...I'm...I'm sorry, Master Louis... I did...I didn't intend to intrude... she whimpered, tears of terror welling up in her eyes as she trembled under the scrutinizing gaze of the young El'Bridget. Louis El'Bridget regarded her calmly, watching as the young maid stared pointedly into the ground at her feet, hands fidgeting nervously before her. He was a quite attractive young man, with short blonde hair and a friendly-looking visage, a small smile on his lips as he regarded her with chestnut eyes. Then, he walked slowly over to the large wooden wardrobe, and opened it. A soft thump sounded, audible to the young girl even across the distance of the spacious bedroom, and with a sudden widening of her emerald orbs she realised that the young noble had dropped his towel. She didn't dare move, didn't dare to lift her gaze, didn't dare to do anything but remain frozen in place, staring straight at the floor beneath her clean, black shoes. What did you come to tell me? the man asked her, his voice having that terrifying quality that made it sound both sincere and welcoming, but also bringing to mind the sensation of having a razor dragged gently over the skin of your throat, a hint of danger lying just beneath the surface, unseen but still there. The girl trembled, licked her lips and found them void of moisture, and then spoke, her voice barely audible. Mrs... Mrs. Alongrutch and..and her daughter, Stella Alongrutch ....El'Bridget have just arrived, Master Louis, she said, still not brave enough to raise her eyes as she spoke, hearing soft sounds coming from the proximity of the wardrobe, suggesting that the blonde man was getting dressed. Over by the wardrobe, there was a pause. Louis was staring straight ahead, his mind reminiscing, remembering a beautiful face coaxed out from the recesses of his mind by the mentioning of the name. He remembered the name Alongrutch, the name his beloved mother had angrily imprinted into his mind. It was the name of his father's affair, a woman of common birth, and Louis couldn't believe that woman had the audacity to give her bastard daughter the El'Bridget family name. He had to hate her. She was a bastard child, who sullied the name of his family with her mere existence, and his mother had insisted that even if his father wanted the woman to be here, Louis shouldn't accept it, and should do anything in his power to show the girl that her kind was not welcome in their world. Thank you, he said, and the young maid finally lifted her wide, emerald orbs as the sound of foot steps approached her. Louis stood before her, and the smile on his face almost comforted the fears that still gripped her heart. Almost. However, her stomach tightened into a knot as she looked at his chestnut eyes, and realised there was no warmth there, only a frightening, stony cold. The girl quickly lowered her eyes once more, suddenly more terrified of her master than she ever thought possible. Leaving the trembling girl behind, Louis walked out of the master bedroom, and made his way towards the entrance of the mansion. When one entered the large household, one would ascend the wide stairs and then enter a large, open entrance hall, where three large staircases met in an elevated dais. Each staircase led to a different wing of the mansion, the steps were covered in rich, red carpets, and above the dais hung a massive chandelier, the lowest-hanging crystal still suspended five times taller than Stella's own height above the rich carpets. The room was opulently decorated, exquisite paintings lining the walls, and the stone railings of each staircase was intricately carved. As Stella and her mother were showed into the entrance hall, Louis stood at the top of the left-hand staircase, leaning against the stone railing, watching with interest as the two ladies entered the extravagant mansion of the El'Bridget. His eyes immediately found the young, blonde woman with the blue eyes, and his heart began beating rapidly in his chest. She was stunning, gorgeous. His father had sometimes mentioned the illegimate daughter he had, and she had become a beautiful young woman, but she was still beyond what Louis had expected. Her long, beautiful, blonde hair, her sapphire eyes, she was undoubtedly his sister with such beauty... No! he told himself, withdrawing from that train of thought. He had to hate her, his mother had told him so. Yet... She was only here because of his father's soft heart, but Louis couldn't help but suddenly be happy at her presence at the mansion... Louis remained standing at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing and smiling softly to himself, wondering how long it would take for her to notice him, and what kind of expression would spread over her beautiful visage. Good evening, ladies. My name is Martin and Ive been sent to escort you both to each of your chambers to where you shall be staying. Out of a courteous manner, the Butler, Martin, welcomingly expanded his arms paired with a wide and tight smile. Though he did not bare teeth and he did not bow. Stella stopped to cycle her head with interest to scope out the innovate interior of the El Bridget mansion. She almost could not believe that she was going to be living, let alone had bear the hyphened precious last name of El Bridget, in such a place that people had spoken so feverishly about. In this nervous realization it struck her she should not be so hesitant of her fathers gracious offer to allow her and her mother to stay. Yet for some reason the impression that they were not welcomed here mewled in the core of her chest. It had to be too good to be true. The thought rolled over her again with an incline of her chin, the towering walls drawing her sparkling blue orbs to the immaculate crown molding and dazzling chandlers that were large enough not to curb the impressive size of the main room. Eye level was impressive enough, but a whole other world was lurking with attention to detail was above. A whole other world it was. Seeming to emerge from the shadows was a tall, built figure accompanied by arrogance. Stellas eye timidly froze at the figure with strikingly similar features as herself and of who she only thought could be Louis El Bridget, her brother. He was at once intimidating. Her face went innocently doll-like, her heart had ceased beating, swelled into a lump in her throat and the lack of breathing drained her to ghastly shades of pale. After a moment, she attempted to dry swallow it back to place before her lips parted and she sharply inhaled. She had not anticipated seeing a member of the family, today at least, after none had been there to initially greet them. In fact, she doubted it would be very likely that any of them would be paying any bit of attention to them. Wait, had he noticed her see him? Oh god, she wanted to pretend as if their identical shaped eyes never locked. And she hastily whipped her head away, as if that did not just happen. As if she failed to notice the observer atop the staircase. But that wouldnt do, no, she knew as well as he did that there was some sort of unspoken contact between them. She had to acknowledge it. From the outside perspective, their locking glance was less complex than this and could be presumed as a young girl that had flicked her eyes away from something that made her meek. Mom? Stella breathlessly consulted and rushed to her mothers side. The butler and Noelle both shifted their attention to Stella. There was nothing else spoken, but from the decline of her face Noelle could only detect that she had encountered a family member of the house hold. And the butler must have known too. In unison the two scanned the room before settling on Louis. Stella did not look. Martin chimed in first, Master Louis, what a pleasure to acquaint us in your presence. Have you been informed of the expected arrival of the Alongrutchs today? Martin bowed deeply with utmost respect. This is uh.. This hesitation had him gesturing to direct Noelle to finish his sentence, obviously not pertaining knowledge of their first names. Partly exaggerating his lack of knowledge to please Louis on the account that his mother, Olivia El' Bridget had resentment for the two guests, and speculated that he had as well. This disposition did not bother Noelle, she had enough to worry about other than the tedious fret of people who may very well not have a liking towards her know her first name. She only smiled as bright and sincere as her ill appearance would allow. Noelle. My name is Noelle. And this is my daughter, Stella. She almost forcibly nudged Stella in a direction that was not hiding beside her, who nervously took a small, single step forward. You must be Louis. Its so nice to meet you. Howard has told me great things about you. Paused, peered expectedly at Stella to speak. Honestly, don't be so shy, Stella. She encouraged. A writhing, pulsing motion encapsulated Stella's heart that screamed from within as it released a burst of power. She had never experienced this escalation of nerves before. She had also never been lodged in this sort of situation before either, and she accepted what was stirring with in as something organic that would pass and hopefully she could laugh back at this later, finding some silly humor in herself. ...Stella... She introduced, kept her head and eyes at a drop. To serve as a form of protection she lifted her right hand to ball up between her collar bones, her skinny wrist accented her morsel of cleavage. Louis stayed unmoving at the top of the staircase, hands resting upon the intricately carved marble of the railing, making no effort of drawing attention to himself. Instead, he much prefered to watch from the shadow of the large drapes that hung around the door behind him, which lead into the west wing of the mansion. The staircase which he stood at the top of seemed to curve in towards the center of the room, converging right in front of the two women and the butler along with the lower steps of the other two staircases. Speaking of the two women, the butler was doing an admirable job of welcoming them without making them feel too welcome and without drawing attention to the fact that he was not as courteous as he perhaps could have been. Still, the older woman did not seem to mind, while the younger lady's eyes seemed to wander over the room around her, as if she could hardly believe the luxurious decor of the El'Bridget mansion, which Louis certainly suspected was more extravagant than what she could possibly have been used to. He remained standing as if like a statue as solid as the marble he was leaning against, a slight, confident smile of expectation on his face, as he waited patiently for her to notice him. He could almost follow her gaze as it moved around, before, at long last, it settled on him, and he enjoyed the mixture of emotions that he could see playing across her beautiful features. Most of all, he truly enjoyed the way her facial expression reminded him of a doe caught in the headlights. She stiffened, beautiful eyes widening, and he could almost see her struggling to tear her eyes away from his own, those lush lips parting to draw a shaky breath, and he almost thought he could hear the intake, even from this distance. After a few moments, she managed to tear her gaze violently away from his, but by the time their eye contact broke, Louis felt as if he had already stared into her soul. There had been a definite contact between them, and the look of trepidation in her eyes had sent a surge of excitement through him, a sensation much stronger than anything he had experienced picking on the skittish servant girls. Speaking of skittish, the new girl certainly seemed nervous, and no sooner had she broken eye contact with him than she rushed over to her mother, her actions drawing attention to Louis. Both the older woman and the butler raised their eyes in his direction, and the young man effortlessly adopted an expression of gentle, friendly openness, one intended to make them feel more welcome than they might have felt so far in the large mansion. Slowly, he descended the stairs, completely at ease with their eyes upon him and taking his own time to make his way down the wide stone steps. He could feel the gaze of the women, a mild curiosity from the older woman and trepidation from the younger, and he savoured the latter, enjoying the way she squirmed lightly as he fixed his eyes upon her. It was an exquisite sensation indeed, and Louis found he only wanted to indulge in it further. Only a small nod of acknowledgement was offered towards the butler, Louis' eyes fixed on the women as he descended the last few steps of the staircase, his tall frame on full display now that the marble railings no longer blocked their view of his lower half. He was immaculately clad, with a midnight-coloured pair of pants and a dark blue shirt that seemed to accentuate his fit body, and as he stopped before them he smiled a friendly smile, his tuft of blonde hair hanging loosely around his face. Yes, I was told that we would have guests, so I thought I would be a courteous host and greet them, he offered with a smile towards the women, as he approached and gently grasped the older woman's hand. He then leaned down and placed a polite kiss on the back of her hand. Welcome, Ms. Alongrutch, to the El'Bridget estate. I am Louis El'Bridget, he said, and relinquished his hold of Noelle's hand, before turning towards the young, blonde girl standing by her side. And you must be my sister, he said, more of a statement than a question, and he reached up towards the hand held close to her chest. The exposed flesh of her chest drew his eyes, and his fingers almost brushed it as they wrapped around her wrist. He pulled her hand, with a little force if she resisted his grip on her wrist, though not enough that it would be obvious to the other two human beings present in the room, and he stared straight at her face as he pulled her hand slowly to his lips, his grip unyielding. It is truly a pleasure to meet you, sister dearest, he spoke, his eyes piercing into hers if she were to lift her gaze to meet his, and he placed a feather-light kiss upon her fair skin. Then, as if his polite greeting had never happened, he let go of her hand and took a step back, turning his eyes towards the butler. Martin, have your people prepared rooms for our two guests? Louis inquired suddenly, his voice light as if it was just a curious investigation, though his eyes held a hint of mirth, as if towards a joke that he only he had understood. Noelle politely dipped her head as Louis approached, and smiled to his hand-kissing gesture. Her hands were not moist sticks of sickness, they were merely dead weight. The woman was undoubtedly ill, though not yet to that degree. Oh, why, thank you, Louis. Its a pleasure to meet you. Was he coming to her next? He had to be. Then he himself appeared directly in front of Stella, He was coming to her next. The entirety of her joints stiffened at this realization. Although this new brother of hers interested her from the moment she heard of him, and the moment she saw him, she took no steps to run across him or to get into conversation with him. On the other hand she confessed that she did, all the same and from the very first, revealed that he was indeed on her mind, regardless discerned from nerves or not. He clutched her tense wrist. She did nothing on her behalf to encourage it, yet he still insisted and heaved, crumbling her shield of protection. At once she wanted to snatch her hand back to herself, but that was no way for a guest to behave. Stellas hand twitched but made no objection. He had to have felt her pulsating heart pumping madly through her veins in a never ending cycle on her wrist. It was so fierce that it may have been her bodys defensive attempt to push him off. The unyielding grip demanded attention, and so she finally gave way with a flick of her eyes to where he held her dainty wrist. Surely he was to give slack to his hand, was he not? In truth, she was expecting a small release, but to her astonishment there was no avail. Her eyes gaped at her mother, as if tattling in the silence. It went unnoticed as her mothers face played a resting expression, a small, set smile and relaxed lids. Perhaps he simply had not known his own strength, that there was no underlined message to be received. There had been no definitive reason for Stella to think otherwise if anything, quite the opposite. Thus far he had proven to be the friendliest in this pretense home and she could not help but to suddenly feel her behavior had been somewhat churlish. In this rejection she was inclined to offer the cordial side of her. With reluctance and hesitation her eyes meet his. At the same time she did, she wish she had not. His gaze barbed hers, like a weapon, and she found herself unable to tear the contact away. Her unsteady blue orbs shone with fretfulness. This became more so the closer his lips edged to her hand. On the surface what might have been speculated as politeness, but at the heart of it was a demonstration of his power. All this just from the hunt of her brothers eyes Stellas instinct still told her that his grip mattered deeply. When he released her wrist, she visibly relaxed and where he gripped was etched with pale shades of red. Stella noticed dropping her hands to the front of her and casually cupped the area with her other hand to hide it. It really was all too easy to redden the skin. She remembered that just before in the car that this happened to her forearm, and besides, it would subside in a matter of minutes, as if it was never there. As though it never even happened. After Louis inquired, the look in the Butlers eyes was more of madness than mirth. The women would not recognize it. Master Louis, well, there are truly just too many rooms... His mouth appeared squished, trying not to crack a twist of amusement. However, I had been informed that- gesturing with a careless wave of his white gloved fingers to Noelle, will be staying in the Infirmary wing, naturally. In such a large home one would not want the spread of germs. And the younger one, hmm... He turned to Stella, Are you sick as well? and asked, full well knowing that she was not. Stella shifted uneasily, picked up her head then slowly parted her lips to respond, No, I'-- but her mother butted in for her and clarified, No, she is not sick. She is perfectly healthy. and sounded pleased with the fact. Oh, of course. came the Butler's voice before directing his attention back to Louis. I have yet to have heard word from Master Howard on the matter. Perhaps the West wing? he questioned for approval in both his question and performance. He adored the look in her pale blue orbs, that uncertain fretfulness as her eyes met his. He felt such power as he held her gaze, feeling how she wavered before the force of his stare. Her limb trembled slightly in his grip as he pulled on it, but she made no effort to pull it back, seeming to reluctantly accept what was happening, allowing him to handle the limb in question as he wished. He pulled it to his lips, his eyes maintaining their contact with hers as he placed a polite kiss upon her fair skin, and all the while his gaze challenged hers, showing her a dominance which was completely opposed to the respect of his greeting. It was a challenge, and she failed to answer it, as she soon tore her gaze away to save herself the fretful worry of trying to decipher the meaning of his gaze, the hunger that resided in it, and what it might mean for her immediate future. The most amazing part was, she didn't protest or struggle. She didn't speak out, to let anyone know of the force of his grip around her wrist, nor about the sheer dominance of his gaze as he held her enchained, a helpless victim of his eyes for as long as their orbs remained connected. When he released her hand from the steely grip of his fingers, she simply withdrew it quietly, and covered the sign of his strong grasp with her other hand, hiding the discoloured skin until it would fade and leave no evidence of his forceful grip. Louis couldn't help the small smile that spread across his lips, though he effortlessly made it seem warmer than it truly was, and listened intently as the butler spoke. He almost wanted to grin as the butler played right into his hands, and the man would be well-accustomed to the moods of the heir of the El'Bridget family to know that he had done well, judging by the subtle look of approval in Louis' eyes. He waited a moment, appearing to be thinking, before he nodded. The West Wing, yes. A good suggestion, Martin, Louis said, smiling at the young woman standing before him. His parents kept their quarters in the North Wing of the mansion, and the Infirmary was in the East Wing, which meant that the only other person who would be occupying the West Wing, apart from the numerous servants who maintained the place, would be Louis' other sister. In fact, I can show Stella here to one of the guest rooms, while you can show Ms. Alongrutch to the Infimary Wing, Louis offered in his calm, friendly tone, playing the role of the attentive and helpful host with practiced ease, though there was a predatory hint in his eyes as his gaze wandered over the young girl, one she might be able to pick up on if she met his eyes. Not waiting for her to protest or object to his suggestion, he walked over to the bottom of the stairs and extended his hand, as if to aid her in ascending the wide stone steps, his entire being radiating the attitude of a proper gentleman. Everything, except his eyes, which still regarded her like a wolf who had just been let into the sheep's pen. There had been times in the past when she had experienced apprehension of her presence. Most came from the parents of the friends house she was at, her very own home if she scored an undesirable grade on a test even- and sometimes establishments that thought teenagers to be despicable, uneducated creatures, those were always the most unpleasant. But she had never experienced this level of being unwelcome before. As soon as Louis broke his proximity from the group, the Butler moments after imitated his coaxing movements, which encouraged Noelle to pace two acquiesce steps towards his direction. Noelle paused and turned to Louis and begun bidding her farewells, Thank you, Louis. Dearly. We mean to cause no encumbrance with our arrival and truly appreciate your warming welcome. Her eye contact shifted to her daughter, whom was unmoving, gazing to where her mother stepped away from her. 'Stella. A small sore voice once again conjured past her dry, cracked lips. It was clear as day that it was a tone which followed before a 'good night.' This did not settle well with her daughter. But mother, I want to stay with you tonight. Which was to be the protest of the night regardless or not Stella's new brother had imprinted his... his marks on her, literately. Even if the encounter was a fleeting 'hello', even if not at all. Simply entertaining the thought of spending a night alone in a new home without the comforting presence of her mother felt... unsafe. In this implication little to no thoughts of him even surfaced her thoughts all that seeped down through to her widening eyes were genuine anguish at the bare idea of abandoning her mother- in a place of all places. And I'm going to miss you too. Noelle accepted with a raise of her mousy brown eyebrows. It's still kind of early and I am exhausted. Besides, you must at least get to stay where you'll be staying and settle before thinking abut worrying over me. Honestly. I'm fine. And smiled, subtly rejected her requested, partly in desires for her to get better acquainted in this place, and the other part because she desperately required rest. Stella pressed her lips into a tight line at the positivity in her mother's tone of voice. The cracking lips were signs enough to influence the not stressing her mother with her insisting on them staying together tonight. All that had occurred today she figured her mother was in just as much a state of distress as herself. ...Okay.. Her gaze shifted to the immaculately polished tiled floor that reflected the room itself before easing back to her mother and lovingly added, Please rest well, Mother. Suddenly and warily, she walked towards the blonde haired stranger gaping his hand for hers. Although genetically related they were the opposite, strangers in truth, they were raw, blood relatives brother and sister 'family.' And she felt intensity budding through her in what? Nerves? A once expected excitement? As she thought before, just having someone close to her age in a formidable, new house had appealed to her interests but as a minute passed, as she peered to her Brother's identically shaped brown eyes for the first glance since the demonstration of his grip and closed the distance between them, it felt as anything but what it was surmised to be. She paused a stepped before him. Stella looked back for encouragement to her mother. Fortunately for Louis, Noelle was employed in the state of the sickness of her own mind. Good night. She did not detect the strange and peculiar flutter in Stella's eyes, but noticed her hesitation - a familiar signal Stella had given her not too long ago since her arrival. She could not tell if anything more than nerves was what convulsed her because to her there was nothing more to meet the eye, her eyes. Noelle thought Louis to be a man who was known for his success and friendly nature, even this had been shown and known to her, not merely gossiped about. The Butler and Noelle bid Louis farewell, the Butler bowing upon his utterance and they both suddenly vanished from the room. Stella reluctantly turned back to Louis and his expecting hand, and she thought about denying him. How rude would that be? To be honest, this place induced shifts in her judgement and in the moment she convinced herself he simply was not aware of his own strength what else could it have been? Nothing. Her hand seemed to be dragging itself through the air before resting the hand with the wrist that just now faint and undetectable smirches of pale, flesh toned prints into his larger hand. The tips of her slender fingers twitched with rejection in unison.at being united with his warm hand. With a low chin she thanked him, You have a very lovely home. It was a banal remark, though being forced in this unanticipated situation, he should consider himself lucky that she even managed a sentence out. She was an introvert with a little extrovert tendencies, however, this terribly awkward situation purged more of the former. Admittedly she had a mass of words brimming with in, though were all dormant as of now. Her gazes were shifty and never lasted more than a second. Louis was pleased by the impending and timely departure of the butler and the mother of the young girl, especially considering the fact that the older woman paid little heed to the feeble protests of the girl. He had been careful not to give the mother any suspicion that something was off, and it seemed to have paid off, as the vibe he got from her was of a mother telling her daughter not to be so fretful and nervous, and to go along with his wishes. Stella's protest was almost reminiscient of a pouting child, and the calm and caring of her mother's reply nearly made her seem silly in her worry. Whether she was worried because she had seen something in his eyes that might have given her pause, or if she was simply loath to leave her sick mother alone in such a large place was anyone's guess, but Louis was fairly certain that the former had in part influenced the latter. Noelle's smile towards him was warm and grateful, displaying no hesitation at leaving her daughter in the care of this young, friendly man, and his returned smile was equally mild-natured, conveying a wish for her speedy recovery, though in his mind his thoughts went in the opposite direction. After all, the longer the older lady remained at the mansion for treatment, the longer her daughter would likely stay as well, and though Louis knew he was supposed to despise the beautiful blonde standing before him, he could also feel an undeniable attraction to her. Rest well, Miss, he called politely after the older woman as the butler led her away with a bow directed at Louis. I will take good care of your daughter. As the final words left his lips, he turned his eyes towards the young girl in question, his eyes finding her standing before him at the bottom of the stairs. She still seemed hesitant, her eyes rested upon his hand in place of her own hand which he waited patiently for, and as she finally reached out her movement seemed almost deliberately sluggish. He allowed her to progress at her own pace. He didn't shift his hand until her skin at last touched his own, her smaller, slender fingers grasping gently at the space between his thumb and index finger, and then his fingers closed around her hand with a sudden finality. It was a gentle grip, entirely different from his earlier grasp of her wrist, which still held almost imperceptible marks from his fingers on her skin, but if she was to truly feel the way his fingers held her hand, she would find that same strength lying in wait, hidden but not fully unseen. It was like a hangman's noose at the moment it was slackened, almost though not completely unthreatening, but if she were to struggle against his grip it would tighten, dig into her skin and make any thought of escape impossible. She would have no choice but to follow. Louis placed a foot upon the first marble step of the staircase, and waited until Stella's foot moved as well before he continued the ascent. He held her hand through each step, as if merely aiding her in ascending the staircase safely, though the subtle strength that resided in his grip could also be read as an entirely different motive, an unwillingness to let her slip away from him, to put more space between them. Indeed, Louis maintained a close proximity to the young girl with the golden tresses as each one of his steps mimicked her own. A soft incline of his head was the first response to her spoken comment, and he accepted it despite the banality of her words, though he brushed it aside with a humbleness that seemed natural, or well-practiced, depending of how easily Stella could see past the veil of his mask. It is a bit too spacious at times, he commented easily, indicating with a wave of his free hand the number of doors visible in the halls leading away from the central entrance hall, their slowly rising altitude giving them a good vantage point to judge the number of rooms the mansion possessed, which stood in stark contrast to the number of permanent residents. As he spoke, his gaze rested calmly upon the girl whose hand he held in his gentle but possessive grip, noting the fretful way her eyes moved with a small smile. I must say, Stella, I am happy we could aid your mother against her illness, he offered after a few moments of silence, just as they were ascending the last few steps of the gently curving staircase, and stood before a long hallway with soft, red carpets. After all, no matter what others might say, he continued, his words subtly drawing attention to the fact that not everyone felt she or her mother was welcome here, and that a sense of gratitude from her was not entirely out of place in the current situation. You are family, and family should help one another, his conclusion was spoken with a slight smile, though his orbs held a hint of something more if she were to meet his gaze amidst the fretful movements of her eyes. Amusement perhaps, or something darker, something more threatening and sinister? Louis easily captured the entirety of Stellas smaller hand, which was expected. What was not anticipated was the lack of force in his grasp. This action, or rather absence there of noticeably stilled her. Her eyes narrowed and locked at their intertwined limbs. She innocently assumed it were to be a near match to what it had been just moments ago. But this, this was almost unrecognizable. Almost. Yet his hand was smoldering with a vice that she could feel fogging her tense hand. Was this what she thought it was? A psychological assessment which harbored the true feeling he related to her? No. It could not be. It simply just cannot. Something inside her core dismayed her, his display sharpened her natural instincts of danger. She did not want to believe it. For a quick second she flicked her head to the right, as if her Mother was still standing there waiting for her to change her mind. Perhaps she should have put forth more vigor in her protest to stay with her mother. Though, he seemed nice enough otherwise. And her mother had no such hesitations in displaying a trustworthiness and fondness towards him. Then suddenly she realized her brief state of paralysis and followed Louiss initial guidance, hastily mounted the first step. Her shifty orbs continually shuffled from the clean marble steps, to suspiciously at their hands, to the pits of his intense eyes. It did not take long for the thought to strike her that he was waiting for her to lead the ascent up the widened staircase. Stella briefly hovered her right foot over the next smooth marble stair and planted the bottom of the black ballet flat on the stone. White lights illuminating from above reflected the black rounded point and highlighted the toned skin over the tibia bone of that leg. The edges of her at-the-knee skirt danced and snaked up her upper leg with the up heave, attracting the rays of light to glow that bit of exposed pale flesh too before the navy colored cotton cloth slithered back closer to her knee with the settlement of her step. This would occur with every climbing of a stair step she took, and with some areas of the elevation and placement of the light could have added a pinch of sparkle. The string of her shifty gaze collected to the directions of Louiss blithe wave of his free hand. Some doors stretched as tall as the ceiling, had gold brushed handles the size of her petite torso, and somewhere lacquered with fine line carved details of vines and symbols that even from a distance could be no way mistaken for anything but work of a professional. The new addition lasted for several moments to exude the acknowledgement of his response to compensate for what she did not speak. Then the air fall silent around them and at first, Stella found it unwinding. However that resulted in the solitude of her own anxiety-ridden mind and the weight of his thick digits around hers which crept the notable difference back to thoughts. At his utterance, she politely geared her face in his directions, though being careful not to give full eye contact. In fact, she was not even sure she was comfortable to the point where she could. A tight tug t the corner of her velvet, pouty lips curled them in the smallest of smiles. But that died right there, as he subtly insulted her, and kicked her pride down. Thanks again. A whispered reflex off her tongue, quickly, desiring to repel the haunting thoughts of being unwelcome in this household. At least to most her new brother sure did not seem to pay much heed to the fact that she was a product of infidelity. Yes, family. The comment seemed to herself, though was in agreement to his statement. It almost warmed her. I never had any siblings before, so its nice to have a brother. Stella shyly admitted with an inaudible laugh and offered a timed smile before directing her attention toward the hallway they approached. As they did, the heels of her shoes imprinted on the lavish, red, carpet, it was of youthful impulsiveness that she allowed her hand to go slack, to retract from his. But there was no such release. Stellas neat eyebrows furrowed, confused. The thumping at the palms of her hands raced against his, though provided no further resistance out of the flushed state of being pushed back a few mental steps of his nice, though violent words. An unpleasant look cast her lowering eyes, made worse of her Brothers lasting impression. As they ascended the stairs together, one wide marble step at a time, there was not much conversation, which gave Louis plenty of time to admire the way the fabric of her skirt rose and descended with each step. Every time Stella lifted her leg to mount another step, her retreating skirt revealed a few inches of fair, unblemished skin, that seemed to shine slightly in the light of the large chandelier. It seemed to draw his eyes, like his gaze could not resist the gravity of her thigh's attraction, and he was glad she still seemed too shy to meet his gaze. Still, even if her fretful gaze told him that she was not yet comfortable enough to look him in the eyes, or even say much in response to his conversational prompts, she followed along willingly enough as he guided her up the staircase, meaning he did not have to use the vice-like grip he had displayed earlier. Still, it could be sensed, lurking behind the veil of consciousness, ready to grip her limb at a moment's notice if she was to suddenly try and slip away from him. She might realise this as well that even if he gave off the appearance of being a charitable host helping her to find a room, she was already trapped. He inclined his head slightly in response to her comment about never having had a brother before, accepting her admittance with a smile of his own, meeting her timid one. I never realised I had such a beautiful sister, either, he complimented her, though his comment was also a subtle kick towards his other sister, and the claim that Stella was more satisfying to rest his eyes upon. To most people, it would have sounded like a harmless comment, but Stella might react differently to a compliment to her attractiveness from one of her own blood, especially if she had picked up on his slightly odd behaviour so far. This would prove especially true once she tried to withdraw her hand, and then found that Louis' grip held her like a vice once more, his fingers tight around her own, accepting no argument as he began leading her down the hallway. Just like in the hallways on the ground floor, there were numerous doors, many leading to guest rooms which might suit Stella just fine, and yet he kept pulling her along. His pace was slow but steady and insistent, and his grip gave no hint of softening any time soon, giving Stella the choice of following along or being pulled until she lost balance and fell. Louis didn't say anything as he lead Stella along the hallway, but for the nervous girl the pressing silence was luckily shortlived, as they soon stopped before a particular wooden door, decorated with golden trims and an elaborately decorated door handle. Stella would not know this, having never been to the mansion before, but the room was very close to Louis' own room, and was usually reserved for close guests of the young heir. The fact that he had chosen to place her in such close proximity to his own, personal quarters suggested that he would like to keep her close at hand, for some yet unknown motive. Here you go, dear sister, Louis said with a smile, though the edges of his lips curved upwards until it was the shadow of a satisfied smirk. Letting go of her smaller fingers at last, he reached for the door handle, confident that she would still stand there when he turned to gaze upon her. He opened the large wooden door, and turned to her with an expectant expression upon his face, making it obvious that he wanted her to enter. Once she did, she would find a room that was sparsely furnished in comparison with Louis' own, but to her eyes it would be lavishly decorated, with a large canopy bed and a dresser, the floor covered in the same rich, crimson rug as the hallway outside, and the walls were decorated with expensive-looking paintings. As she entered, Louis followed her into the room and closed the door behind him, the sound of the door closing drawing attention to the fact that they were now alone in the privacy of the room. Stellas gaze shifted from his to in front of her at his bold compliment. Or maybe he was just trying to play nice and may not have been as expert at it as he wanted. Still, it felt wrong. Whatever the case, she reached from someplace in her depths to tug a polite smile at the corners of her smooth lips, tight and tense. As she even suspected herself that the pulls on her facial features gave away something other than intended discerned from the poster of dis-settlement still fighting her delicate features that gracefully pulled and imitated the truthful scope of her uncomfortable nature in this situation. She forced a nervous laughter to fill the void. No sooner had he propelled himself briskly down the hall, powered in equal measure by determination to retain his hold on his sisters smaller hand. Initially, hesitation leeched her limbs and for a few paces found herself at arms length. This was clearly not a request. She craved for release from the shackle of his grip. Say something? She could not. Well, she could if she wanted to emit a distrusting quality she held toward her nothing-but-humble-host, and in return would mirror that perhaps she possessed such a quality as well. Trapped. Louis led Stella, unresisting his guidance , the rest of the time down the hallways, keeping up with his paces as his strides seemed to get longer with each step. Perhaps she was not as fully unresisting as she had thought. Finally, they came to a halt, and at last her hand was freed once more. With a deliberate slowness added to the haste of the action, she retracted her hands out of his view to a clasp behind her. She did not need to see to know the shades of redness that etched at that hand. In fact, heat emitted from it and she could feel the warmth in her other hand that covered it. He was right. He was entitled to that annoyingly, cocky look of smugness that creased his face. Fore, Stella did not so much as twist her body away in a different direction, not even to enter the room after he had opened it. It was almost as though she was waiting for a sign of non-verbal permission to enter, and he gave it to her. She did not perceive this interaction between them of anything more than a curiosity and exchange as if asking if this was a room they were going to enter. Apparently, his utterance was not enough of a clarification. Upon entering the room she shifted her hands to the front of her, perched and re-clasped at the rift of her cleavage. The room was very large in length, width, and height. A unity of wall-length windows nestled together in the middle of the wall that would be first seen upon entering. Thew view was of the glistening ocean and cycling waves crashing against outcropping of rocks, daylight was fading and the sky was dull pink, though any other parts of the El'Bridget the room may have faced were not level. The walls were laid with peculiar spiral patterns and expensive artwork. Her jaw relaxed as her eyes did the circling of the impressive room, making an effort to keep her head forward as much as possible. Creakkk. The door creaked closed and initiated the rapid palpitating of her heart. Undesiring to draw any more attention to the fact that it was just these two in this room, she took quick paces to the left section of windows. This was awkward, for Stella, being in a new home, a strange room, and with Louis. They just met for the first time as brother and sister, so she supposed it was not completely out of place that they spend some quality time together. She fiddled nervously with the soft ends of her golden locks. She spoke without looking back, partly because she felt as if she was obligated to, This is wonderful. Truly. Thank you. She wondered if being quiet and shy would discourage any interest to stay. Her eyes shifted focus from the dancing waves to the reflection of the room on the glass of the window. It was clear enough that she could make out the discoloration on her slender digits. Not more than a second of time was paid to that, her eyes curiously wandered to Louis's reflection. It was the first time she had a chance to inspect him. She saw no reflection of a gentle man, but somewhere in his stance she sensed darkness, a deep pool of blackness that she herself might drown within. Or be held down under. CENTER