A/N Hey guys! Another story from lil' old me. Enjoy your daily dose of Descole, my lovelies! Haha, he is seriously the best villain.
He knew not where she came from, or who she was, but he was intrigued.
Jean Descole watched as she glided to the other side of the room with the grace of a swan, and picked up a glass of champagne from an overly-friendly waiter. She looked nervous and uncomfortable in the overly formal setting, her black hair blending with her simple black dress and making her white skin stand out in the most striking way. He walked over to her in a few graceful strides.
" Are we enjoying my little gathering, miss…?" He started, crossing his fingers and hoping she wasn't married. That would be more than embarrassing.
"Oh! Rose Grey. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Descole." She replied in a shy voice. He was taken aback, then figured she had heard him introducing himself to someone or other.
"How did you end up at my fine party then?" he asked.
"I was brought along with my cousin."
"Oh."
A few more minutes of idle chit-chat had the two engaged deep in conversation with each other. Much to his chagrin, the time came when he had to make a speech for the crowd assembled in the polished marble ballroom. He reluctantly left Rose's company and stepped up onto the stage.
He scanned the crowd for Rose. Instead, he found himself in eye contact with the one man who could ruin his night.
Layton.
His anger peaked about twenty seconds later, when he spotted Rose laughing with her cousin, Luke Triton.
Descole's hand gripped the microphone tightly, almost crushing it. He laughed and adjusted his mask. He didn't know how Layton had gotten into his party, but he sure as hell wasn't going to ruin it.
"Welcome, guests." he said in his usual mysterious tone.
His adressal to the guests was brief, he wasn't one for long and arduous speeches. He swiftly left the ballroom through the secret exit he had installed behind the curtains. His cape swirled behind him as he charged down the cold, dim corridor.
I've got you now, Layton, He thought to himself.
Rose peered through the mobs of people dancing, flirting, or simply enjoying the free champagne a little too much, looking for the man she had talked to earlier. She hadn't seen him leave…
Descole. Even the name was charming, but she wasn't in love. She wasn't sure she even liked him. She wasn't one to fall for people quickly.
"what are you looking for, my dear?" the Professor questioned. She turned, slightly irritated at herself for being so impatient.
"Oh, the man I was talking to earlier. He was quite entertaining." she replied.
"What was his name?"
" Something Descole…" She said absentmindedly.
The Professors' jaw tightened and he squinted his eyes a little bit. It was not revealed to him that this was Descole's party.
"Come Luke, Rose, I think we might be in a position to leave before my suspicions become reality." Said the Professor.
He received a knowing look from Luke and they proceeded through the grand doors of the ballroom.
They walked briskly down the five hundred metre long driveway in the dark, illuminated only by the light from the house. Huge shadowy willow trees lined the way, tickling Rose's face with their draping leaves.
"Leaving my party so soon, Layton?" Descole sneered. He stepped out of the shadows, surrounded by his grey-masked accomplices.
"I vowed revenge, Layton," He said, drawing his sword, " And I shall have it!"
He lunged at Layton, who had no defence but an old willow branch. The sword went through the branch, very nearly skewering the Professor like a campfire marshmallow. Descole swung behind him and hit him with an almighty force on the back of the head, knocking him clean out.
"Put him and his little follower on the next train to London." Said Descole. He paused. "Knock the girl out, too."
Descole closed his book with a sigh. His conquest over Layton was nowhere near complete yet, it had barely started. The girl, Rose, would surely lure them back. Flirting was fun last night, but he wondered if he could put up with an annoyed and captive teenager as a houseguest without blowing his famously short temper.
He slipped the book back into it's empty slot in the bookshelf and stood from his armchair. The clock in the hall chimed two in the morning, and he stretched his arms above his head and yawned. The butlers and maids had since gone to bed, leaving him the only conscious one in the house. It was a strange feeling, he noticed. His footsteps echoed in the empty halls. He turned the doorknob and entered his rooms.
He stretched out on the black and blue covers, enjoying the slippery feeling of satin on his skin. He didn't bother changing out of his suit, or even taking his mask off. His breathing became slower as he drew nearer to sleep.
"Master Descole?" The voice made him almost literally jump with shock.
"AAAHH!" he cried. He calmed down and looked at the person in the doorway. It was just another of his stupid lovesick maids. He gave a deep sigh. "What?" he said dryly. Could nobody just leave him to sleep for once?
"Would you like some tea to aid your sleep?"
"Yes, thank you. And maybe an apple while you're out."
"Of course." she excused herself and backed out of the room. Jean Descole's bright blue eyes drooped shut once again, and he finally gave himself over to the land of sleep.
So yeah. Good, bad, horrifying? Tell me :) I'll just be randomly posting chapters whenever the hell I feel like it. Love you all! Mwah!