Restoration Of NightWolf Tavern

[Donovan NightWolf]

Part One

Donovan follows Vincente with his dark blue pools downward, watching the black boots upon his feet crush the path to the tavern. Sharp creaking sounds enter his pointed ears and he looks up, seeing his nephew stepping up onto the porch. Vince stops for a moment, taking time to gaze upon the tavern door, as if in trance. His crimson orbs stare at the judgement figures forever frozen in time, grinning. "How ironic" He mumbles, then reaching a clawed hand for the door. As if the tavern had been waiting, the ancient double doors open themselves, sounding a low painful shriek in the process. Vince grins wider. "Ah yes, I have come home." Don stepped up onto the old porch, hesitating a moment before following his nephew inside. It has been some time since he has returned here and he almost stopped, finding the gothic structure frightening. He sighs loudly then as he steps through the threshold, the double doors closing itself, Don nearly jumped out of his skin. Vince turned toward him. "You're such a baby." Chuckling darkly to himself, remembering his father saying that to him. Don widened his pools, knitting his brows. "That's not funny Vince." He replied, reaching with a hand and running it through his silver streaked hair. His nephew shrugged, his crimson orbs olging the beautiful tavern. There was a thick residue of dust on everything, but they looked in great shape despite the long neglect. Don takes a long moment to survey the area, his dark blue pools looking to the staircase. "I'll take the second floor, you take the basement."

He couldn't bare going down into the dank bowels of the tavern just yet, didn't think he could handle walking into what seemed to him Hell. That thought caused a pain in his chest. Hell. The slow painful beating of his heart was a constant reminder of the loss of his brother. He sighs. "Just get to it!" He mumbled as he hurriedly strolled toward the staircase, closing the distance of the grand room. The fireplace caught his eye, memories came flooding into his mind. He had to put a hand against the railing of the staircase as he swooned, bracing himself. Vincente watched his uncle, took note of his hidden turmoil from his last spoken words. He shrugged. "Whatever." He said as he walked to the back of the main floor, his crimson pools first seeing the boarded up door. He smiled. "More damage to today." He didn't hesitate in digging his razor sharp claws into the wood, easily splitting and tearing it from the door. He stood back a moment, gazing upon the eerie steel blackened door. "Mmm..." He reaches out with a hand for the doorknob, finding it curiously unlocked. He walks back to the fireplace then, picking up an unlit torch and feeding it upon the flames of the hearth, returning back to the basement door. He begins the long descend downward, smiling wide, his crimson orbs not missing any detail of the dark awaiting for him.

Don leaned against the railing, taking small steps upward, his pointed ears perk as he hears Vince below, tearing down the wood of the basement door. He rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself. His nephew was so destructive, even in the littlest ways. As he made his way onto the second floor, he gazes down the wide, long hall, blinking his dark blue pools. It was so dark. He sighs. "Well, may as well start down here...door to door.." He mumbled to himself, walking up to the first door on his left, opening with a hand and flipping on the light as he enters. It was an empty guest room, the covers upon the bed never being stirred. Everything was so dusty, the place needed a thorough clean, but for now they were only investigating. Nothing was in this room of importance, so Don flicked off the light with a finger and left, closing the door softly behind. The first few rooms were like that, just empty guest rooms that seemed to him, never had seen a guest in its existence. He opened another door, nearing the end of the hall. He turned on the light and swept the room with his dark blue pools. He saw a figure in the bed, covered completely with a blanket. He blinks. The figure stirred in the bed. "Who's there?!" Don shouted, standing back and ready for anything. He heard a low grumbling sound and the blanket was thrown back, revealing a man. He shot up in the bed, sitting and blinking his eyes, a pale hand coming up to cover his eyes. "Mmmm...master....have you returned?"

His voice was soft and low and his long silver white hair spilled messily down his shoulders. Don blinked. "Master?" He said back, not really understanding what was going on. The man in the bed rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. He then tilted his face up, looking at Don. "My master...Dark Link.." He continued, swinging out of the bed. His lithe form clad in what appeared to be a tight fitting full body uniform. Don's mouth slacked. Oh yes, his brother had slaves. "Your master is dead." He told the other man, saying it as cold as he could. He remembered being Link's slave himself at one time. The man's features did not change upon hearing the news. He just stood there calmly, blinking softly. This unnnerved Don. "What do you say to that?" He said then, putting a hand on his hip. The other man did not show any emotion. "I serve my master....did he leave behind orders for me?" Don was growing more impatient with him. He didn't have time for this. "Look, your master is dead. Your new master is down in the basement, go find him." He studied the slave with his dark blue pools for a few moments, testing his aura. He couldn't feel good nor bad from him. "If I find anything that my brother left behind that has anything to do with you, I'll let you know." He finished, turning and walking out of the room. He shook his head. He could hear the other man behind him. "My name is Jaiden." He heard the voice and he looked over his shoulder. "Got it." He said back. Jaiden stood for a moment, hoping to recieve a name from Don. So this was his master's twin brother. He knew of him of course. He shrugged, turning and finding his way to the stairs. A new master, he had said. Curious.

[Vincente NightWolf]

Part Two

Vincente finds himself at the bottom of the stairs, blinking his crimson pools and letting his eyes adjust to the pitch black and firelight emitting from the torch. There was a corridor that winded and he slowly creeps down it, smiling to himself. The basement was as cold as ice, but he loved it. As he came to the end of the corridor, there was another door. He reaches out with his clawed hand and ran his claws down the door. Wood. And black. He grinned, pushing and his pointed ears perk as the low creaking sounded, as if it hadn't been opened in years. He took a few moments to survey what his crimson orbs were seeing. "Oh..my..god." He said, blinking several times. It was as if he walked straight into heaven, what his heaven would have been anyway. The room was enormous, vast blackness eveloping him, chilling his frame. The torch light providing sufficient warmth and he shivered. Placed as if purosefully throughout the room, were torture devices. Many Vince had never even seen. He walked slowly, touching every device. He loved the way the cold steel or wooden parts felt beneath his claws. Leaving his 'mark' on them. As he neared toward the back part of the area, he cocked his head to one side, his long raven strands falling to one side of his features. Standing alone by itself was an iron maiden. This device he knew about. He grinned, it seemed in great shape, apart from the rust. With one hand, he gripped the steel lock, turning and twisting it with force. It crumpled like dust beneath his claws. He hesitated a moment, wondering if there would be the remnants of a body inside. Before he could change his mind, he hastily threw apart the maiden's doors. No bones. Inside were the remnants of a dozen roses, wilted and frozen in death. His crimson orbs scan the belly of the maiden, blinking as he saw something. It was a small box, a jewelry box. He held the torch back with a hand and reached inside with the other, carefully cradling the box into his palm. His motions did not stir the flowers. He liked them. As he brought the box to him, he flipped it open with a thumb. It was a ring. A beautiful ring. Something this intricate and beautiful could only be an engagement ring. "Father...love was your destroyer. I vow it will never destroy me." He took the ring out of the box and carefully placed it into a pocket. He would carry it with him as a constant reminder of his father's ultimate downfall, vowing to himself that he would never meet the same fate. He would never love, no love could ever tamper his violence. Only sexual gratification and drugs could temporarily harness it, but only temporarily. Oh he could love, he possesed the capacity. But he wouldn't let it consume him, would never depend on any other for his completion. He loved his father intensely, he felt tears then suddenly. That was an odd thing. He could never remember a time in his life that he had cried. He lifted a clawed finger to his wet cheeks, studying this moisture closely. Why did he cry? "I give moisture to the dead." He mumbled to himself, closing the maiden after replacing the empty box where it had been placed.

"Master?" A voice rang out then, soft spoken and deep. Vince turned sharply, ears perked back and the torch lifted high. "Who's there?" He called out, his crimson orbs blinking. A dark figure stood on the other side of the room. He couldn't make this figure out well and he grumbled. "Show yourself!" He demanded and a few seconds later, the figure walked slowly toward him, stepping into the firelight. This was a man, with long silver white hair. his eyes flecked with the light, striking pale green. He knew those eyes. Those eyes! "My god!" He said then, placing those eyes in his memory. The night he and his sister, Alexis had been kidnapped. Returning to his father Link, it was the happiest day of his life. "Jaiden.." He said then quietly, his crimson orbs taking in every detail of the mysterious man. The man smiled, nodding. "Master." He said back, smiling. Jaiden was beautiful, but he had no pointed ears. His features seemed ageless and Vince looked down at the gunblade strapped to his hip. He wanted one. "Master?" Vince repeated, his brows knitting together. Jaiden was his father's slave? Suddenly everything became more clear. "Of course." He said then, as all the strange puzzle pieces began to fit together. Link had been a master and Vince remembered that time he and his father spent, he had begun to train as a master. He even dominated his uncle then, right in front of his father. He smiled wide, flashing his wolf fangs. "Make yourself at home Jaiden, for it it weren't for you, my mother would still walk this earth and I would never have met my father." He stepped to Jaiden and embraced him. He owed so much to this man. He released him and began walking through the vast room toward the stairs, the other man following in suit.

[Jaiden NightWolf]

Part 3

Jaiden followed Vincente closely, ascending the long staircase with a slow but steady pace. As they reached to the first floor of the tavern, he blinked his eyes as they adjusted. The place needed a scrubbing and badly. Without being commanded to, he walks to the back near the bar, disappearing into the kitchen. He found a bucket, mop, sponges and plenty of soap. Thank goodness the place had supplies. He begins in the main room, Vincente watching amusingly. "Cleaning?...Good, I'd never do such a thing....ever." He chuckled darkly, Jaiden seeming to ignore him. He shrugged, going to the bar and walking behind, His crimson orbs scanning the bottles, nothing catching his interest. He sighs, letting out a loud yawn and running a hand through his long hair, adjusting the strands to hang loosely around his shoulders, cascading beautifully. He taps his claws onto the black granite, specked with crimson. Vincente liked his father's choice of decorations, wouldn't have done it differently himself. He was bored, very bored. He gazes upon Jaiden a moment, thinking precariously to himself of demanding pleasure. "Not in the mood." He mumbles to himself, his hand swiping beneath the counter onto the shelf. He felt dust beneath his palm, then he hit his fingers on something. "Hmmm." He gets a good feel of the object and it feels like a box. Curious, he picks it up and removes it from its cozy hiding place, setting it atop the counter.

"Another box." He says, observing a thick coating of dust on the lid. Without a second thought, he hastily removes it, eagerly setting it down. He peeks inside the darkness, his crimson orbs making out shapes. He leans down and sniffs. "Mmmmm." He smelled the intoxicating allurement of drugs. The poignant aroma of marijuana and the sweet bitterness of cocaine. He hadn't had drugs himself in some time. He doesn't hesitate in carefully making himself a 'candy joint'. He finds a lighter inside the box and lights the joint, inhaling deep and slow, feeling himself consumed in rapture. "Oooh god yes." He says, Jaiden stopping his cleaning and sniffing the air, turning and casting his mysterious gaze on Vincente. He remembered his master Link and the times he 'fed' him drugs to appease the violent beast that forever haunted his master. He closed his eyes a brief moment, walking slowly toward the bar. Vincente lazily leaned a sharp hip against the counter, happily puffing on the sweet joint. As Jaiden takes a seat in an empty barstool, Vince shifts his lazy orbs toward the man, grinning. "Want some?" He asks, offering the joint. Jaiden sighs, accepting the offer and taking a slow hit. It felt damn good. "Thank you." He says, handing the joint back to his master. They continued to share the joint, each taking a turn. After it had been snubbed, Vincente fixes himself a line of cocaine with his razor sharp claws, digging into the powder with a claw and happily inhaling. He shoots his head upward, sniffing the air. "Mmmm, yeah. Much better,"

Donovan emerges from the second floor, immediately his senses are welcomed by the aroma of drugs. It causes painful memories to flood into his mind, he shakes his head, holding in his hand Link's journal. "Hey, look what I found in your father's room," He said then, coming to the bar and casting Jaiden a look before he carefully sat the book on the counter in front of Vincente. Vince smiled, lazily opening his crimson orbs and looking at Don. "Oh?!" He said, looking down in front of him at the journal. He was about to run his claws over it but his uncle quickly snatched it from him. "Oh no, you don't even get to touch it yet. I have the first right to read it." His dark blue pools studied Vince, waiting for him to argue, but his nephew shrugged. "Whatever," He said, smiling his wolfish grin up at Jaiden. The mysterious man, looked from Vince to Don, then downward. Don didn't like Jaiden too well, didn't trust him for some reason. "Yeah, whatever. As soon as I finish reading it, I'll let your highness know," He said with bitterness, Vince looked up at him and scowled. 'What the hell is eating at him now?' He thought. Donovan walked back to the stairs, looking forward to peace and quiet in the upstairs room. Vince shrugged, plucking a bottle of bloodwyne from behind him. "Come on Jaiden, let's go enjoy ourselves at the hearth," He left the box of drugs on the counter, feeling satisfied from the effects of the candy joint. Jaiden joins him then with a bottle of white wine. They take a seat on the couch, lazily stretching. There was so much work ahead and much more to discover.