The Bridge of Sighs (Intro)

[belovedamadeo]

     He looks around, confused and out of sorts as he stands in the doorway. The last memory is that of pain and then bitter cold, everything in between it all a blur of color and sensation. Things he'd rather stay forgotten. A dull ache rises in his chest, however, as a memory stirs, something vivid and colorful, meaningful. A moment of happiness

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[pandora_antioch]

Pandora's Mind Gift is still skewed from the last time she tasted the sun's burning kiss, her skin still darkly tanned and sore in places, but she can walk, and she can talk, and she can keep to what duties she's undertaken since she arrived at the Mansion almost a year gone now.

She stands by the lake, this night, thinking. Her lover is perhaps in his forge, hammering an anger that has nothing to do with her onto an anvil, and for herself, she took a moment to think.

Sometimes the past returns in the most astonishing ways.

Be welcome. Armand's last typist hasn't been seen around anywhere else to my knowledge, but like Jon Snow, I know nothing.

[belovedamadeo]

There is an uneasiness in him as he walks through what appears to be the main room of the house, there are many here though they cannot be seen. He feels them. Some slumber, some are awake, simply hidden. He turns away from the room, moving to the outside of the place, the pale moon shining down from the sky becomes partially obscured as he steps down without a sound into the grass. He looks up at it a moment to view it, a thought rising once more to the forefront of his mind but that too is swiftly buried in darkness again.

He senses her from far enough off that, should he wish to, he could change direction and return once again to the unfamiliar house. Instead however the familiarity of her presence draws him in. He stands quietly just far enough behind her that he can observe without notice, but curiosity causes him after what seems years to approach and finally to speak. "The sun would not have you either?"

[pandora_antioch]

She has to turn to see him - at the sound of the voice, she perked up, a little. The last time she and Amadeo talked in the context of the Mansion, they were closely friends, happy to see each other and fairly cozy. It did her good, to see another vampire - there are little of those around, these days, and Henry Fitzroy is not of her brood.

"The sun would not have me, twice over, now," she replies, quietly. "It is good to see you, Armand." She smiles, a little, earnestly.

The second time was accidental, though. Her suicidal tendencies have been cured in the most unexpected way.

[belovedamadeo]

The sound of his name causes him to move toward her a step, out a little from the shadows that obscure him. "Strange to hear such a sentiment regarding myself. Since it is so good to see me then, you might tell me where it is exactly you are seeing me. What is this place?"

[fairy_fingers]

She probably smells sweet. She certainly is. Young Angelique has been unable to sleep, and is out on the porch of the Mansion with a shirt on her lap. It is made of find white silk, and the exquisite patters her fingers weave on the sleeve are in grey and silver.

She's singing to herself, peacefully. If her blood smells sweet, there is also the scent of direwolf on her, though Grey Wind is not about. He's with his master, as he should be.

Angelique never accepted that Robb give up his wolf for her, she muses to herself, and that is well, though in the dark night, she might have liked to have the wolf's quiet companionship.

[belovedamadeo]

A curious thing, a strange sort of scent. A young girl. He can sense her sitting there and he follows the subtle inclination to go to her. He smiles a small smile, close mouthed so as not to frighten her off. "Aren't you lonely here all alone?"

[fairy_fingers]

She looks up, and what she sees is a handsome boy, her age or close enough, with beautiful auburn hair that reminds her of another boy she's grown to love.

"A little, Monsieur," she replies, and she stands, hands still on the needlework, gives a small curtsey. "But I would not be adverse to company, if you were to offer it."

She colors a touch for her boldness, but only a touch.

[belovedamadeo]

He watches the color rise to her cheeks and looks away, wanting suddenly very much to go back inside, hole up somewhere, and rest. Just to rest. "Perhaps another time, you're busy just now aren't you?"

[jareth]

It is Jareth's usual rounds of the grounds for the night, though truth be told, the frequency of his visits have lessened over the past few months from dwindling hope. His once vigorous searches are now a pale shadow of what they once were, and he no longer even goes inside the mansion, merely stops briefly nearby to listen and watch for anything or anyone of familiarity before moving on.

He walks slowly along the edge of the lake, silent and pensive, weariness stamped clearly on his face as he focuses on the many voices and minds that dwell there. So many that have grown familiar in these nights of searching for over a year, and yet none of them what he seeks. Pausing he looks up at the pale, thin sliver of the crescent moon overhead, framed by a myriad of starlight both bright and faint, then sighs, casting his attention a final, brief time toward the mansion - then does a double take.

His breath catches, then leaves him altogether as his gaze alights on the familiar form of a very specific vampire on the opposite shore.

[belovedamadeo]

Too lost in his own thoughts at first to notice the feeling of being watched he walks on, the shadows of the clouds above moving slowly over the ground as they pass over the moon above adding to the sinking feeling in his chest. He notes his own stupidity after only a moment of this, quickly returning attention to the unfamiliar world around him and immediately picking up on the unusual presence that seems to be staring at him. He casts his eyes toward whatever this being may be, a cold look flashing in the darkness, a warning to that which may seek to bring him harm. He does not care to check, right now he simply wishes to be alone.

[jareth]

The sudden cold look jolts him from his stupor, and unthinking Jareth takes a few steps forward, nearly stepping into the very lake as he calls to him.

"Amadeo!..."

[belovedamadeo]

He steps back, though the lake gives distance enough between them it seems the safest thing to do. Still curiosity wins him over, keeps him from running and he takes these moments to look the man over, size him up as it were, though his eyes still bear that same cold look. "You know me? Or you think you do, but you use a name that you should not."