08-23-2018, 10:26 PM
Rowan opened the double doors and lead Mikhail into her parlor. It was one of her three private rooms at the café; her personal apartment as it were. The double doors opened onto a room decorated in the same fashion as the rest of the café. Gold and white wallpaper glittered on the walls, looking much like rich brocaded fabric. Gilded lamps were scattered around the room, most of which were carved into intricate figures of angels and saints. Round wooden end-tables with mother of pearl details, antique French furniture covered with lush pillows, all matching the gold and white wallpaper filled the center of the room. A large marble coffee table sat in the center of the encircling furniture; candles, white roses, and what appeared to be spellbooks covered its surface. Two large French doors sat opposite the double door; both of them lead out onto a balcony and the night sky shimmered beyond.
Large gilded mirrors and various paintings in the Rococo style covered the walls. Everything here looked like it was plucked from the Palace of Versailles, save the large plasma television mounted on the wall across from the arranged seating area. An unseen speaker system played soft piano music; any and all sounds from the café did not seem to touch Rowan’s apartments. That was intentional. As much as Rowan broadcasted her abilities as a witch, there were things she’d rather stay hidden from listening ears and prying eyes.
On either side of the plasma tv were two more French doors. The one on the left lead to Rowan’s private bathroom and the one on the right led to her bedroom suite. She hadn’t entertained in the apartments yet, the only other souls to see these rooms were the staff members of the Café.
Sweeping into the room, Rowan closed the doors behind her and Mik. She said a silent prayer that someone had cleaned up for her. She had been in such a rush before the ritual, she had left it looking like a hurricane swept through. Must have been Maman Marie. She did hate messes, although cleaning was not in her job description. She was an old woman and didn’t need to be fretting so over Rowan’s personal quarters. That was what Gareth was for.
With a clap of her hands, a dashing young man with dark brown hair and hazel eyes came from the bathroom and into the main parlor. He gave a slight, respectful incline of his head to Rowan, “Madame, I trust all went well tonight?”He then gave Mikhail a nod, “And Monsieur? Is there anything I can fetch either of you?”
“Very well, Gareth. Thank you for asking. I have invited two of our patrons up here for a private gathering. We are not to be disturbed under any circumstances unless I specifically call on yourself or another staff member. Do I make myself clear?” She asked the younger man.
“Crystal, my lady. Shall I fetch refreshments?”
“Yes, I was about to ask you about that… Send up our finest champagne and four of my favorite fluted glasses. The crystal ones with the gold scrollwork… Also, a decent selection of other beverages. Wine, beer, whiskey, vodka, juice, coffee, anything that might perk my guest's interests… Have Galton send up a Buffett as well. Dinner and dessert, I should think… Oh! And the beignets! Mik, darling, you simply must try them. I swear they are like eating a sugary cloud. That will be all, Gareth,” Rowan said in a melodious tone. Gareth bowed once more and left without a word.
Rowan walked over to the large, satin-covered couch and fell into it with a practiced grace. She stuck a hand under the table and brought out a large mirrored tray. Atop it sat a large bowl filled with fragrant marijuana, rolling papers, and other accouterments for smoking. She began rolling a joint with ease and looked up at Mik, a smile on her lips, “Do you partake? If not and if it makes you uncomfortable, just say something. I enjoy it myself. Helps with the nerves… So you know of no covens… Only rumors? I don’t suppose you remember where you’ve heard these rumors? It would benefit me greatly… All this talk of Channelers and you can’t find a single one! It took me the better part of the last year looking and I finally found one,” She winked at Mik, “And what lovely company he has turned out to be. You really don’t know any others? What of you? What can you do with magic? Besides the tricks you’ve shown me at the ritual. I don’t suppose it can be used for lethal purposes? Not that I am out looking to kill people… Still… I’d feel better knowing I can use my own powers to defend myself… Water and Earth are great, but how do you turn those things into a weapon? I’ve heard of these… ‘atharim’ assassins… I know we are not invincible. That is another reason we need to find more people like us. There is strength in numbers, Mikhail. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Rowan was cut off as the door swung open to reveal the strange man and woman from downstairs. Rising from her perch on the couch, joint rolled, a wide smile erupted onto Rowan’s face. She put on her most graceful air and flung her arms open in welcome, “Friends! Do come in! Please! We have much to discuss, as I’m sure you know. Please, come. Sit. Make yourselves at home. We have complete and utter privacy here. My servant, Gareth, will be up in a few moments with drinks and food. Is there anything I can get either of you? Anything at all?”
Large gilded mirrors and various paintings in the Rococo style covered the walls. Everything here looked like it was plucked from the Palace of Versailles, save the large plasma television mounted on the wall across from the arranged seating area. An unseen speaker system played soft piano music; any and all sounds from the café did not seem to touch Rowan’s apartments. That was intentional. As much as Rowan broadcasted her abilities as a witch, there were things she’d rather stay hidden from listening ears and prying eyes.
On either side of the plasma tv were two more French doors. The one on the left lead to Rowan’s private bathroom and the one on the right led to her bedroom suite. She hadn’t entertained in the apartments yet, the only other souls to see these rooms were the staff members of the Café.
Sweeping into the room, Rowan closed the doors behind her and Mik. She said a silent prayer that someone had cleaned up for her. She had been in such a rush before the ritual, she had left it looking like a hurricane swept through. Must have been Maman Marie. She did hate messes, although cleaning was not in her job description. She was an old woman and didn’t need to be fretting so over Rowan’s personal quarters. That was what Gareth was for.
With a clap of her hands, a dashing young man with dark brown hair and hazel eyes came from the bathroom and into the main parlor. He gave a slight, respectful incline of his head to Rowan, “Madame, I trust all went well tonight?”He then gave Mikhail a nod, “And Monsieur? Is there anything I can fetch either of you?”
“Very well, Gareth. Thank you for asking. I have invited two of our patrons up here for a private gathering. We are not to be disturbed under any circumstances unless I specifically call on yourself or another staff member. Do I make myself clear?” She asked the younger man.
“Crystal, my lady. Shall I fetch refreshments?”
“Yes, I was about to ask you about that… Send up our finest champagne and four of my favorite fluted glasses. The crystal ones with the gold scrollwork… Also, a decent selection of other beverages. Wine, beer, whiskey, vodka, juice, coffee, anything that might perk my guest's interests… Have Galton send up a Buffett as well. Dinner and dessert, I should think… Oh! And the beignets! Mik, darling, you simply must try them. I swear they are like eating a sugary cloud. That will be all, Gareth,” Rowan said in a melodious tone. Gareth bowed once more and left without a word.
Rowan walked over to the large, satin-covered couch and fell into it with a practiced grace. She stuck a hand under the table and brought out a large mirrored tray. Atop it sat a large bowl filled with fragrant marijuana, rolling papers, and other accouterments for smoking. She began rolling a joint with ease and looked up at Mik, a smile on her lips, “Do you partake? If not and if it makes you uncomfortable, just say something. I enjoy it myself. Helps with the nerves… So you know of no covens… Only rumors? I don’t suppose you remember where you’ve heard these rumors? It would benefit me greatly… All this talk of Channelers and you can’t find a single one! It took me the better part of the last year looking and I finally found one,” She winked at Mik, “And what lovely company he has turned out to be. You really don’t know any others? What of you? What can you do with magic? Besides the tricks you’ve shown me at the ritual. I don’t suppose it can be used for lethal purposes? Not that I am out looking to kill people… Still… I’d feel better knowing I can use my own powers to defend myself… Water and Earth are great, but how do you turn those things into a weapon? I’ve heard of these… ‘atharim’ assassins… I know we are not invincible. That is another reason we need to find more people like us. There is strength in numbers, Mikhail. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Rowan was cut off as the door swung open to reveal the strange man and woman from downstairs. Rising from her perch on the couch, joint rolled, a wide smile erupted onto Rowan’s face. She put on her most graceful air and flung her arms open in welcome, “Friends! Do come in! Please! We have much to discuss, as I’m sure you know. Please, come. Sit. Make yourselves at home. We have complete and utter privacy here. My servant, Gareth, will be up in a few moments with drinks and food. Is there anything I can get either of you? Anything at all?”