Thursday, February 21, 2013

The House on Hoxton Street.. 2/21/13 after THE REVELS, in London

Many of the properties along the way have been modernized and are essentially the same as similar residences in say Chicago or Washington. But this house was different. Yes, it was brought up to date, although the date it was brought up to was nineteen twenty five.  And that, in itself, tells us something.  Modern kitchens are not a priority for night-folks. They value deep wing chairs covered in old mohair and tall clocks almost as ancient as they are. 

This house had a library with the requisite detailed paneling... a necro-torium for intelligent magical exploration and a small, but inviting chamber of adepts used for debates and discussions. The furnishings come from the Privy Council of Schloss von Hohenstein and belonged to the sixteenth Elector, who converted to a Vampirian creed in later years and penned many respected essays on Life-Eating.

Tomas had never been to this place. Experimentation occurred elsewhere in his day, primarily tucked away in back alleys near Black Friars and the like, blending right in with the rather bohemian theatrical crowd. But for developments in contemporary space/time/matter manipulation, this was ground zero. That's what Francis said and he knows..

The ride over, bracing as it was, proved trying. Edith moaned the whole way. wilkravitz almost slid off, but Baylah grabbed him. You know dragon skin is very much like snake skin. At least in this bloodline it is. Not slimy, but dry and smooth.... a bit too smooth for those not blessed with the proper 'seat.' Miranda doesn't mind. Francis rather enjoys it, especially this one , Gold Claw,  a gift from the second son of a high born Han nobleman. The beast itself contained it's own magic. All dragons do. How else do you think they survived the Great Comet? No, they're not that old. I don't mean to imply anything like that, but, how else?... As a species, I mean....

Now there was no identifying sign or mark upon the house...nothing. In all respects it looked like a fine, impressive, three story, red brick. Georgian, or neo- Georgian residence, fit for a gentleman born and bred, or perhaps a rather astute businessman. The heavy, oaken door gleamed under a flawless gloss of dark green paint. And the knocker (polished brass) was in the form of a mermaid. I think merfolk were symbolic in the early nights of the Hermetic Order, but now it's just a tradition. 

Gold Claw was trained. She knew what to do and smoothly de-materialized as they drew up to their destination, depositing four night-folk and two mortals upon the carefully laid down, granite pavement. Yes, they were invisible while en-route. And mortal traffic passed right through them. But there was no place for her here...no stable ... no dragon harem, so she slipped back through the ether to her commodious quarters, there to await her master's call.

Francis gestured toward the door and said - Shall we? ...Then he quietly chanted a few words in Old Eastern Vahmperigo (rather like a blend of Old Slavonic with Tartar and Persian overtones) and stepped aside as the portal slowly opened.

Three heartbeats later, after carefully peering inside, the Philadelphia contingent entered. Miranda and her dapper companion followed. The door closed...

And The Emperor Marcus Aurelius came out to greet them....

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