The 1850s were a marvelous time to be a vampire. No one asked why you always wore a hat and gloves or never exposed yourself to the sun, and, if you were in good society, never believed it could be you when a victim was found with his or her blood drained. If you were in the lower classes, no one much cared for there was no money to be had and your situation was unfortunate enough to be your punishment.
The Setting:
The year was 1854, the place, London, England.
Characters:
Color Code: show
Dark Huntress:
Daelyn Kastle
Katerina Thorpe
Kyle Jäeger
Ramzy Jäeger
Rhavyn Kastle
Rowen-Blanchefleur Kastle
Saprophyte
Scarsmate:
Angelrisa
Eden Ridgemount
Elijah Ridgemount
Hyrati
Rivera Brate
Rotan Brate
Redkite:
Andrew Maroon
Isabelle
Septimus Wood
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London, England
Daelyn Kastle stepped out of the carriage, which had pulled to a stop in front of his tall, elegant London townhouse. He helped his wife, Rhavyn, who was of a very youthful appearance, out of the vehicle, then his daughter, Rowen. The three then proceeded into the house, Rowen leading the way.
Once inside, she immediately asked the butler, Jarvis, if a letter had come. Rhavyn and Daelyn gathered one had not from the disappointed look she tried to hide as she started upstairs to prepare for the dinner the council had called. Once she was in her bedroom, they began to follow suit.
"Do you know what the dinner is about?" Rhavyn asked her mate in a low voice. The vampire council seldom called for meetings concerning the entire families and nearly never called for the werewolf pack to join them.
Daelyn nodded. Of course he knew, he was one of the top council members, but he was rather unwilling to speak of it. "I didn't want to talk about it in front of Rowen," he said. Rhavyn gave him a look.
"She's seventeen, Daelyn, you've got to stop thinking of her as the helpless babe we found abandoned," she gave him a smile then stood on her tiptoes and tenderly kissed him before resuming her climb up the elegant stairwell.
The moment she'd referred to had been a sort of turning point for Rhavyn and Daelyn. Being dead, they were unable to produce any children of their own, but when they had found a small infant abandoned in a rundown building, they'd been unable to leave it. Thus they'd raised the child as their own and only a few weeks ago, changed her to a vampire as they were, by her choice, of course.
Daelyn sighed and followed Rhavyn.
*£*
Ramzy Jäeger leaned forward on his dappled mare as he neared the last jump of the race. He couldn't help but let out a triumphant laugh as his horse cleared it in one fluid movement then landed easily. He reigned her in and watched as his elder brother, Kyle, followed, several seconds behind himself. The two had instituted a yearly race between themselves which included riflery, jumps, and and even a bit of polo, and this year Ramzy had just become the undisputed victor.
Both boys, the eldest twenty-three and the youngest nineteen, were tall, 6'5' and 6'6', respectfully. Both had tan skin, handsome features, an abundance of knotted muscles, and particularly broad shoulders and backs.
"I suppose you won," Kyle said pantingly, regarding his younger brother with his yellow eyes.
"Dammit, sirrah, I believe I thoroughly kicked your butt!" Ramzy mocked laughingly. Kyle grinned wolfishly and easily dismounted.
"I'm about to kick your butt," he laughed. "Sirrah." Then he chased his brother, who was still mounted, to the stables, his own chestnut following.
Ramzy flung himself off his mare's saddle, un-bridled and saddled her, and led her into the paddock, where he gestured to the groom to attend to her. He then unbuttoned his white shirt and pulled it over his head of wavy, light brown hair before dunking his head in the horses' trough and splashing the refreshing, cold liquid on his neck and chest.
As he did so, he surveyed his family's estate, which was situated only two miles outside of London. There were rolling green hills, wooded portions, well-groomed gardens and fountains, the rectory, and a large mansion.
Ramzy was so absorbed in his future that he tensed and froze as Kyle splashed a large handful of water on him. He turned to give his brother an annoyed look then shook his head and said, "Come on, let's go up to the house and get changed for Father's dinner or whatever."
The two young men's father, Frederick, the werewolf pack Alpha, was a man of good fortune. His first wife had been a werewolf as he and his sons were, but she'd died nearly ten years ago, in a misunderstanding between the pack and the family of vampires that resided in London. He'd remarried, as was expected of a man in his position, but he'd wed a human, with three daughters of her own, all married by now, and they'd had two children together, both daughters.
Then only last year, Kyle had declared he didn't want to inherit the estate and that he wanted to become a clergy, even though it was an odd occupation for a werewolf, and marry one of the servant girls that was employed, Katerina. Unable to deny his eldest son, their father had granted him his wishes and decided Ramzy would take possession of the estate when he turned twenty-one.
They completed the walk up to the large, gothic style house and entered through the back door. Kyle had clothes set out so he wouldn't have to ride back to Nordenwald, his small home on the rectory of Schwarzdorn. They were changed in a few minutes and then proceeded to wait downstairs for the return of their father.
Note: Can it be at Rotan and Rivera's place because its "more centrally located or something"?