Kiss With A Fist (Charles/Open)

[Emma Ravenhearst]

Emma had not seen Charles in at least a few months now. She would have considered it odd and started to worry if she could not feel his presence in the manor as clearly as her own. He was there, she knew it. And she knew that he was watching her. Why he was keeping his distance, she did not know. But she was content to let him keep his peace for a time. She had been using the time alone to meet people in the manor. She had gathered enough courage to even speak to men, upon occasion, more than she would have ever done with Charles present and close beside her. She had found a fellow musician in Erik Lavalais, and an interesting challenge in Erik Destler.

Today, however, she wasn't much in the mood for meeting anyone. She had recently heard the news. The little blonde Christine had gotten married and was expecting a child. The news was strangely devastating to her. She had planned to do that with her life, to have the perfect little family, like this girl had. And it had been ruined, any chance for it was ruined. It made her want to ruin the happiness of this woman, steal the fortune that had been unfairly bestowed upon her. What had that little girl ever done to earn such a life?! Had she endured the kind of horror that Emma had? She sincerely doubted it, and resented the woman. It had not been her right to get married within this cursed manor! This manor belonged to EMMA. It was her castle of misery and the girl's insolence in thinking that she could marry in the home of one cursed to never know such happiness was infuriating.

Every day, she became more and more like Charles. It had been a slow process, but his madness was certainly being passed on to her. She was more possessive of the manor, easier to anger. She herself did not yet notice it. She dressed like she always had on this day. She had discovered a stash of dresses from the 50s that she found quite to her liking, and had taken to wearing them, even when they were slightly more fancy than the occasion called for. She tied up her hair and began stalking through the manor, head held up in a new sort of possessiveness. She made her way, eventually, to the ballroom.

The room brought back memories, of a time when she had believed her happiness possible. When dresses swirled throughout the room and the world was full of color and music. Now, it was dark, and filled with demons that she hadn't asked for. Almost unable to help herself, she collapsed onto the ground, her dress flowing around her, looking blankly ahead.

[Adina Gillespie]

(NOTE: I have not posted it yet, but I am making an open thread that continues the timeline after Adina meets Blondie and falls ill with a cold. This post is after she has gotten better and is back to her duties around the manor)

The illness that bad befallen the young maid had finally worn off and Adina was back to work about the manor. She had made her way through the foyer, dusting and cleaning every inch of the room until she made her way to the ballroom. She held a small rag and was wiping down the mirrors to rid them of the dirt and grim that clung to the surface. She smiled at her work; the glass was clean enough to eat off of! She paused a moment and looked at the mirror...

She gazed at her reflection.... Her reflection! She actually had one again. Her fingertips tightly touched the glass; it was cold. She sighed happily and went back to her work. She had been brought back to life by the demon, Claude, but she knew that he had something in mind for her. But that was the last thing she was thinking of. She was just glad to be alive and working again. Her fingers ached but it was a welcomed feeling. To be feeling again, the smell and taste food, the touch of the smooth glass as opposed to the scratchy wooden floorboards beneath her feet. She could feel every little depression in the floor as she moved down the side of the room to continue her cleaning of the mirrors.

Suddenly, she heard the doors of the room open and she quickly turned her head. A woman had come in and seemed to collapse upon the ground. The maid quickly dropped the cloth and hiked up her skirt to run and see if the woman was alright. But when she came closer she stopped dead in her tracks... This woman! She recognized her..... She had seen her portrait upon the walls numerous times though she had never met her!... This was Emma Ravenhearst, the wife of Charles Dalimar!

"Madam Ravenhearst?" She cautiously asked, moving closer to the fallen lady. She paused and thought for a moment that Emma was stunned; she was staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing... "Madam Ravenhearst?" She repeated before kneeling down beside her. "Are you alright?"

[bedeviledmanor]

These hands stained red
From the times that I've killed you and then
We can wash down this engagement ring
With poison and kerosene

"Madam Dalimar, if you must call her something," came a voice--a snide, twisting voice that seemed too deep and beautiful for the creature it had come out of. His fingers twitched at his sides, wound tight and smoking faintly in the dim, glittering light of the ballroom.

Charles had noticed for some hours that Emma's feelings were rapidly becoming more and more damaged--he had meant to go to her, but it was painful sometimes, getting used to this restricting human form. His dark eyes stared down the little maid for a moment, and he fell gracefully into place beside the Mistress of the Manor, his bride.

His hands flitted over her shoulders and her arms, and brought her in tenderly, though a smile never graced his gaunt features. He ran a finger through her hair and spoke gently in her ear, something that Adina couldn't quite make out: "Emma, my dear, come."

Charles hadn't spoken words to her in a month at least, but he always knew where she was and how she was feeling--likewise for her with him. Their spiritual bond, now, was no longer figurative and poetic. She was his other half, and she was unhappy--so he was unhappy.

"Adina, fetch some tea," he said absently, as though he was throwing her a bone, encouraging her to leave. He'd never liked being around her after the incident with the store closet, and even without that eating away at him, he was never exceedingly polite to anyone but Emma. If what he was for her could be called polite. Slowly, Charles helped Emma to her feet.

He smiled slightly and said, "You look very well in that dress. I've missed your sweet smile..."

[Emma Ravenhearst]

Emma didn't respond when the little maid came one. She knew that she was there, of course. She knew everything that went on in the manor. It was like a part of her, it had been built for her and she had died for it. But she did not want the girl to be here, she did not want it at all. Luckily, at that moment, she felt an immense state of calm wash over her, and knew that Charles was in the room. She knew it before he said a word.

He had come to save her and she was more than grateful. When he spoke in her ear, she rose immediately to her feet, slipping her hands into his and smiling just a little. Though she still took the form of a woman in her twenties, there was certainly the maturity and grace of an older woman about her. She had seen enough of the world to gain that. They were certainly a pair, those two. There was an aura about them that bespoke the ages that they had lived through, and the heartache that had brought them to this moment. It was haunting and beautiful and terrifying, to know of such deep sorrow and love.

Emma looked over at the little maid, indicating with a little nod that she was to follow the instructions of the master of the house. She had never met the girl before, but knew she was a maid by her dress and the way she spoke. Previously, she would have been uncomfortable ordering anyone around, but after all these years...She owned this place. And she would take charge of it.

"Thank you...I have missed you..." She didn't say any more while the maid was still in the room. There was no need for her to know the secrets of the master and mistress.

[Adina Gillespie]

The trembling maid wondered what had made Emma fall for someone like Charles. Surely it was not love; after all, he did worship the Devil! But that too made Adina pause... If Claude had brought her back to life, did he do the same for Charles and Emma? And if so, for what purpose? Surely if Emma was alive, her husband had to be around as well!

She wanted to stand up to him, the way she had stood up the Raoul Edouard in the pub... But that would not be wise. The man never seemed natural on any account; he had been resurrected by the Devil and the same for his wife! She hated him but she feared him more than Claude. He was wicked, a heartless man who loved to terrorize anyone who got in his way. But it was her fear of Charles that outweighed her desire to find him again and make him turn her back to a ghost....

But why? Why did she want to do that? Was it her fear of both of those men and how he threatened to rip out her soul? Perhaps it would be best if she were a ghost once more so that she would spare a lot of people the pain of having to say goodbye when the time did come.

She was more than happy to leave, though she gave a final glance to Emma... Would the mistress of the manor be alright by herself? She dared not think of it as she hastily left the room and ran up the stairs to the kitchen. Swiftly closing the door behind her, the maid gasped and clutched a hand to her throat... She had never been so terrified to even think of someone who. She had hoped that Charles would stay a ghost and leave her be! Leave everyone be! But this! This was worse than the night when she had seen her father come back to life that Halloween evening. She reached out a shaking hand to take up the little steel ball that Lenoir had shown her, filled it with the tea leaves, and placed it in a cup of boiled water. She closed her eyes and let the fragrant steam sooth her shaken soul. If Charles and Claude were bot still around and planning something, she was determined not to let them harm anyone else in the manor. If she had to, Adina would fight like the fool-hardy French woman she was, until her dying breath.