Thread: Southern Sins: Lust and Voodoo (Xeres & Mr Quixotic)

On any given evening, music could be heard drifting through the streets as it seeped through windows and doorways of bars and lounges. The true nature of the tunes could be felt then, out in the dimly lit streets as it permeated the thick, humid southern air. The wild energy carried out into the night like a ghostly memory, bittersweet in its distant warmth. Music was the lifeblood of the city, the birthplace of jazz. New Orleans, 1953, nurturing the unique blend of rhythm and blues as it poured throughout the city. It held strong the tradition of New Orleans's nature, that of amalgamating and harmonizing. All intertwined in a web of deep roots, they entangled like those of the bayou trees, the European and African, the blacks and the whites, the Catholics and the Voodoo practitioners. Certainly, the city's history was rich with music and arts and culture... all of which entwined in the tendrils of Voodoo. As widely celebrated as it was scorned, even the whites could not resist the call of the drums, the rich, powerful voices of the priests and priestesses and the incantations they sang. Though not all would admit to partaking in such barbaric and laughable practices, the call of the dark magic was difficult to resist. The degree of tourists coming in from far and wide throughout the United States was a testimony to that. Despite its music, food, people... the sheer celebrations of culture that was a part of the city... as any, it had its flaws known only to the locals. Crimes had been committed as of late. Missing local peoples, all from different walks of life. Somehow directly unrelated with one another, no matter how deep the roots were traced by the police. It was only one person gone at first, a long time had passed before the second was reported. Shorter still was each spanse between the rest. It was becoming a matter of great urgency and stress for the missing whites. If there had been any blacks missing, they had either gone unreported or the police put those files in the bottom of the stack. Although no bodies were found, no one could count that as a blessing. Better dead than... well, the bayou was unforgiving, and its inhabitants were not always of the civilized sort. Life went on for those uninvolved in the lawful forces or the immediate acquaintances of the missing persons. The music of the night played on, blissfully and wildly. The people drank their cares away, entranced by performers that danced and sang and beckoned so lasciviously. Business hadn't faltered anywhere, by any means. If anything, even though not all inhabitants of the city were aware of the mysterious case of missing persons, humans had the capability to sense a degree of distress and tension in the air as well as they swayed to the pull of the music. There was a heaviness that weighed upon them, and it called to a deeper, primordial part of themselves, the same part that created knots in the belly at the call of some unidentified wild animal buried in the shadows of the night. The same part that raised the hairs of the hackles on end when a ghost story was being told. The same that felt and irresistible pull to the ancient song and dance of Voodoo. At the surface, however, it was curiosity, intrigue that drew people in to her shop. No more than that , people convinced themselves in a logical manner. Regardless, it was enough to keep a flow of customers and clients. Though being located on the near outskirts of town, word of mouth was a powerful thing. There was hardly any need for posters or TV or radio advertisements, not when any gas station, barkeeper or hotel manager would simply say Drop in at Estelle's if you would like a taste of true Louisiana Voodoo. They would, and they did. Tucked around the corner of an alleyway, the only evidence that a shop was there at all was a hand-painted, four-legged sign that sat on the sidewalk with a large arrow pointing into the alley. Worn, crudely painted skulls and snakes formed a border around the sign that read MADAME ESTELLE'S VOODOO BOUTIQUE BOUTIQUE VAUDOU Candles, Talismans, Potions and More! Certainly not as easy to find or as popular as the more renowned voodoo shops, however its seclusion allowed for a closely knit clientele base. At least, that's what the founder of the boutique had claimed. The evening was young, the raucous nightlife only just blossoming forth from the setting sun. Locals and tourists alike milled about in the streets and weaving through establishments of various forms of entertainment. Some would find their vice within the bars or exotic dance parlors, others thirsting for more beyond that of the physical. They wandered the streets as though partaking in the festivities would satiate their thirst, ignoring the knot in their belly that felt the tantalizing darkness, unknowing in that their desires were far more difficult to tame.