The only thing, in life, worse than love is to fall in love in the first place. . .
--Dietre Klause, scion of House Fionna
Okay, let me go into detail as to why I, Dietre Klause, would spread such atrocities on the subject of love. But before I draw you a diagram of the pains of love allow me to first give you some insight into my personal background; as you know I am Dietre Klause, the scion to House Fionna in Germany. I was raised among the wealthy in Berlin and had everything taken care of for me for my entire youth. As I grew into adolescence I had experienced, later as I am informed of, a Chrysalis. I had no idea what was becoming of me, my world fell into the passionate waves of chaos as my eyes were then open to the Dreaming. As I learned in time, my true mother was in fact among der faire kind, half of the enchanted blood and half mortal, ordinary and of short life. From my findings my father, Baron among his mortal holdings, had happened upon one of his goodlywhores in the city and kept a long term affair with her until I came into the scene. As for the woman who had raised me as her own in my father's house, I had replaced her child who had died by the scarlet fever in his crib. My father took a chance on sneaking me into my dead half-brother's crib in hopes that my mother would not suspect that I was not of her blood. And the funny part of this was that it had actually worked since the woman I had called mother had never seen her dead son and had taken to me as him this whole while. But this is not what colors my opinion about love. No, you see, this is merely prologue to my personal accounts on the seductively cruel emotion.
I remember it as if it were precisely one year, two months, thirteen days, and some hours ago, but I'm not counting. You see, I am in the midsts of my wilder years and I have climbed among my social latters in the court of the Lady Brumhilde, ruler of Berlin, Lady of House Fionna, and the list goes on and on. During my initial days of becoming scion to the House I had accompanied Old Froggardy, an aged grump of a grump. He had been in Lady Brumhilde's service since before the turn of the century and his ways were becoming dim and old. I was placed under his tutalage to become a scion for a more modern era of the House and thus all the roayl Houses of the Dreaming. During my tutalage I had accompanied Hier Froggardly into the City of Lights, Paris. During this new modern era, Paris had become a beacon for fools and scholars. And in this case both were in attendant with Old Froggardly playing the part of the scholar and myself as the fool. It was here that I will begin my studies not of the courtly preceedings of House Fionna, but in love.
"Winter is upon us," Old Froggardly complained and ran a grissled finger through his long and equally aged whiskers. This had made his button nose twitch to the sensation of something being close to his face. "Make note of that, it will do you well to know that the end is near."
"Yes, Hier Froggardly," I remembered saying blankly. The old grouch had been complaining all day, this is his nature in being an artifact from a time where such modern nicities had yet to spill over Europe. In his days it was coal and carriages. Now we have steam trains and electricity. We keep our streets alit at night not with torches but with gaslight. Also, among the truly wealthy there are automobiles puttering along the cobblestone. This modern age is indeed a blessing to the Dream, even if Froggardly talks ill of the change.
"Are you hearing anything I have said," Old Froggardly asked, his olng flop-ears raising nearly on end and his bucked teeth nearly in the way of his speech.
"Hier Froggardly," I began, i so wanted to tell him my thoughts and views of this time, my time, but I decided it wise not to chastise my mentor. "Can I fetch you some more drink, sir."
"Decadence and grime," he began, "look out this window, boy and look at all the filth. These windows are stained with an oily grime that these steam trains spew out into this black sky. The oceans are sticky with the oil these ships use to go back and forth to the Americas. Machines, my boy, are cold, dirty, and pollutants, they will cease up and choke the very life out of this planet. The Winter is upon us indeed."
"Old Froggardly, are you speaking the truth or are you just complaining in your old age," I tried to kid with the old rabbit.
"I am getting old, Hier Klause. Lies are the lifesblood of us pookas. We lie with every beat of our heart, once our hearts slow down, so do our lies, now mind that boy, that was an important lesson in pookas," the venrable scion said to me.
"I meant no insult to that, Hier Froggardly, I was just trying to bring some levity to the subject. After all, it is not winter outside, it is spring. Hear how the birds chirp," that was indeed my faux pas, it was night then and no bird was out then but I paused and feigned to listen for the sweet song of the birds anyhow. "You just need to liven up once more, Old Froggardly, have some drink with me, let's see the sights this city has to offer two strangers from Germany on a grand night like tonight."
"Youthful, blind, loving ignorance," the grump said, "cherish these moments, Hier Klause, before you know it you'll end up like me."
Honestly I could not tell if he was joking or if he was being serious. I did see a slight smile crease up the side of his muzzle but it could have been another one of those dmaned tests that he had me sit throguh, the test of reading my audience. If I had it my way I would have gone under the tutalage of someone of my own form, a siidhe, but in retrospect I see that learning these lessons from an ancient pooka will pay off in time.
"I think I will turn in for the night, I want you to stay up and read over my doccuments, I expect a full report by the time I wake tomorrow," Old Froggardly said as he moved his way slowly to his bedroom.
"I will," I said and watched as he hobbled his way into the other room and clsing it behind him.
I had poured over document after document that night but I felt restless. I was in here while the rest of Paris was still awake. I had my desk before the window so that I could look out to the streets below and see the hustle and bustle of all the love stricken Parisians. I thought how marvelous it would be to go down below and join them for a drink or two, or to catch a show, or to dance, or to do anything that was not realted to reading lineage charts of the Parisian families of House Fionna. And that's when I became introduced to my subject i detest so much. As I sat there in my day dream, though it was well in the middle of the night by then, the door flung open and closed sharply.
I spun around to see what all the commotion was about and I caught the most amazing sight I had ever seen. She was a gorgeous creature of a fine standing, possibly nearly as tall as I. Her mane fell over her shoulders, despite how disheveled it appeard and shone with a brilliance of a million yellow electric lights. She was dressed remarkably, though in retrospect it was actually quite bawdy and whorish; that was probably due to the fact that she was in fact a whore.
She had sealed the door behind her and she was breathing with the harshness of a chase. She had no idea I was in the room, that I was admiring her, or that I was approaching her; I had no idea that I was approaching her.
She was a thing of beauty, the subtle rosiness of her flesh, the perfume that she was scented with, the long stretch of her neck and the most adorable set of pointed ears I had ever seen-- She had pointed ears, she is another child of the Dream, what were the chances of finding another changeling here at this time, after all ours is a dying breed, as Froggardly puts it. I see it that we are just a rare lot which lives in the most unlook for of places, that's how we had been avoiding each other all this time.
"Hello, frauline," Okay, I admit that my French is awful before I go into any more detail, I was hoping that she knew and spoke German, if not I would have to rely on the universal translation of speaking louder and slower.
She screamed and turned around in a frantic matter. She looked like she was a deer being chased by a hunter, or so I would imagine, I never hunted myself nor had I ever had to learn how to, my meals were prepared for me by my staff. But as she screamed I found myself jumping bac and then I heard Old Froggardly stir in his sleep in the other room and I needed to bring results so I cupped my hand over her mouth to silence her and to keep that old grump from waking. My success was short lived as she bit down on my fingers and I gave out a scream of my own. That's when she cupped a hand over my mouth to keep me from alerting any unwelcomed company.
We both stood there, face to face, my eyes welling up with tears, not of joy but of pain as we cupped each others mouths with our hands, only her teeth were well secured in my finger. We both muttered to each other in a muted agreement that we will remove our hands on the count of three. We both mumbled one, two, and on three we both let go and I flung myself to the corner, nursing my finger.
"You bit me," I told her, as if she didn't know.
"You have to hide me," she insisted.
"You bit me," was about all i could say until she smacked some vocabulary into my mouth.
"Okay, I'll hide you," I stammered as i tried to find a hiding spot for this perfect and beautiful stranger.
"How about in here," she asked as she was appraoching Old Froggardly's room.
"No, no, no, not in there, my mentor's within, if he catches me away from my studies, he'll have my head," I told her as I stole her away from his door and to the WC.
"I can't go in there, that's the first place he'll look," she said.
"Well, dammit, where can I hide you," I asked.
That's when I heard the door trying to be opened.
"He's here," she said. Her eyes were like the ocean, blue and watery. She was desperate to find a place to hide and that's when I came up with a plan,not a good one, mind you, but it worked.
"Get into my trousers," I instucted her.
"I beg your pardon," she retorted but I insisted that she slip my trousers on over her half naked bottom and go over to my bed where I would continue with the rest of my plan.
The door creeked open after having the lock picked. A rather strong looking brute stepped in, a scar made its way from the northern most point of his face to the southern most part of his chin. You could see his stinking breath emitt from his grisley lip.
"Where is she," he had asked in French. Okay, I can understand most of the words in the French language, I just have a hard time speaking it. The few words I know in French are enough to get myself a thrashing.
I looked up from my bed, my documents in my hands and I pretended to act dumb.
"I am sorry, I know not of whom you speak of," I said while my newly enlongated legs folded over each other to make me look more relaxed.
"You're awfuly tall for a German," the gruff man said as he traced the back of his fist across his chin to retrieve some spilled spittle.
"Well, you see, my mother was Scandanavian," I said as I showed of my long appearance.
"I see," he began, "you don't mind if I look around, do you?"
"Oh now, help yourself," I said as my new legs tapped their toes at the footrest of my bed.
I watched as he went for the WC and he found nothing there. He then checked my trunk, noting. My closet, nothing. He then went for Old Froggardly's room.
"No, don't go in there," I protested but he ingored me and opened the door and stepped in.
"Ah-ha," he exclaimed but was greeted by a swat of Old Froggardly's cane and the old grump cursed at him to leave and get lost. The brute stumbled out of the room and closed the door behind him before returning his attention to me.
"Well then, German, it appears that you are speaking the truth, I am sorry to inconvenience you, goodnight," he said to me while sporting anewly recieved black eye, curtousey of Old Froggardly. He stepped out of the hotel room and closed the door as he went on his business.
The girl then rolled off from on top of me, leaving me with my coat on lying on the bed.
"How can i thank you," she said as she removed my trousers; from her, not me, mind you.
"Well," I began, "you can start by telling me your name."
"Margot," she said.
"Margot, what a sweet name," I began, how smitten I was then that such a diamond in the rough had happened upon my hotel room that night. "The pleasure was all mine, I was merely helping a woman in need." Then it had dawned on me, who is she and who was that man, so I asked.
"That was a customer who wanted more than just a fun time," and I thought that that man was her pimp, "but i really must be going now."
Before she left I stopped her one last time.
"Can I see you again," I asked, foolhartedly.
"Maybe, but I doubt that your kind would ever go to such a place," she began.
"My kind," I had asked.
"You're obviously a sidhe, and a noble, you wouldn't last two minutes in the Underworld, I'm sorry, sir, but I do beleive that this is goodbye," she said and walked out my door.
I waited by my window to watch her pass through the streets before entering what she calls the Underworld; the seedy underbelly of Paris, a home to whores, pimps, drunks, and life. I must enter these carnal canals and emerse myself in this culture that is of the modern age.
--Dietre Klause, scion of House Fionna
Okay, let me go into detail as to why I, Dietre Klause, would spread such atrocities on the subject of love. But before I draw you a diagram of the pains of love allow me to first give you some insight into my personal background; as you know I am Dietre Klause, the scion to House Fionna in Germany. I was raised among the wealthy in Berlin and had everything taken care of for me for my entire youth. As I grew into adolescence I had experienced, later as I am informed of, a Chrysalis. I had no idea what was becoming of me, my world fell into the passionate waves of chaos as my eyes were then open to the Dreaming. As I learned in time, my true mother was in fact among der faire kind, half of the enchanted blood and half mortal, ordinary and of short life. From my findings my father, Baron among his mortal holdings, had happened upon one of his goodlywhores in the city and kept a long term affair with her until I came into the scene. As for the woman who had raised me as her own in my father's house, I had replaced her child who had died by the scarlet fever in his crib. My father took a chance on sneaking me into my dead half-brother's crib in hopes that my mother would not suspect that I was not of her blood. And the funny part of this was that it had actually worked since the woman I had called mother had never seen her dead son and had taken to me as him this whole while. But this is not what colors my opinion about love. No, you see, this is merely prologue to my personal accounts on the seductively cruel emotion.
I remember it as if it were precisely one year, two months, thirteen days, and some hours ago, but I'm not counting. You see, I am in the midsts of my wilder years and I have climbed among my social latters in the court of the Lady Brumhilde, ruler of Berlin, Lady of House Fionna, and the list goes on and on. During my initial days of becoming scion to the House I had accompanied Old Froggardy, an aged grump of a grump. He had been in Lady Brumhilde's service since before the turn of the century and his ways were becoming dim and old. I was placed under his tutalage to become a scion for a more modern era of the House and thus all the roayl Houses of the Dreaming. During my tutalage I had accompanied Hier Froggardly into the City of Lights, Paris. During this new modern era, Paris had become a beacon for fools and scholars. And in this case both were in attendant with Old Froggardly playing the part of the scholar and myself as the fool. It was here that I will begin my studies not of the courtly preceedings of House Fionna, but in love.
"Winter is upon us," Old Froggardly complained and ran a grissled finger through his long and equally aged whiskers. This had made his button nose twitch to the sensation of something being close to his face. "Make note of that, it will do you well to know that the end is near."
"Yes, Hier Froggardly," I remembered saying blankly. The old grouch had been complaining all day, this is his nature in being an artifact from a time where such modern nicities had yet to spill over Europe. In his days it was coal and carriages. Now we have steam trains and electricity. We keep our streets alit at night not with torches but with gaslight. Also, among the truly wealthy there are automobiles puttering along the cobblestone. This modern age is indeed a blessing to the Dream, even if Froggardly talks ill of the change.
"Are you hearing anything I have said," Old Froggardly asked, his olng flop-ears raising nearly on end and his bucked teeth nearly in the way of his speech.
"Hier Froggardly," I began, i so wanted to tell him my thoughts and views of this time, my time, but I decided it wise not to chastise my mentor. "Can I fetch you some more drink, sir."
"Decadence and grime," he began, "look out this window, boy and look at all the filth. These windows are stained with an oily grime that these steam trains spew out into this black sky. The oceans are sticky with the oil these ships use to go back and forth to the Americas. Machines, my boy, are cold, dirty, and pollutants, they will cease up and choke the very life out of this planet. The Winter is upon us indeed."
"Old Froggardly, are you speaking the truth or are you just complaining in your old age," I tried to kid with the old rabbit.
"I am getting old, Hier Klause. Lies are the lifesblood of us pookas. We lie with every beat of our heart, once our hearts slow down, so do our lies, now mind that boy, that was an important lesson in pookas," the venrable scion said to me.
"I meant no insult to that, Hier Froggardly, I was just trying to bring some levity to the subject. After all, it is not winter outside, it is spring. Hear how the birds chirp," that was indeed my faux pas, it was night then and no bird was out then but I paused and feigned to listen for the sweet song of the birds anyhow. "You just need to liven up once more, Old Froggardly, have some drink with me, let's see the sights this city has to offer two strangers from Germany on a grand night like tonight."
"Youthful, blind, loving ignorance," the grump said, "cherish these moments, Hier Klause, before you know it you'll end up like me."
Honestly I could not tell if he was joking or if he was being serious. I did see a slight smile crease up the side of his muzzle but it could have been another one of those dmaned tests that he had me sit throguh, the test of reading my audience. If I had it my way I would have gone under the tutalage of someone of my own form, a siidhe, but in retrospect I see that learning these lessons from an ancient pooka will pay off in time.
"I think I will turn in for the night, I want you to stay up and read over my doccuments, I expect a full report by the time I wake tomorrow," Old Froggardly said as he moved his way slowly to his bedroom.
"I will," I said and watched as he hobbled his way into the other room and clsing it behind him.
I had poured over document after document that night but I felt restless. I was in here while the rest of Paris was still awake. I had my desk before the window so that I could look out to the streets below and see the hustle and bustle of all the love stricken Parisians. I thought how marvelous it would be to go down below and join them for a drink or two, or to catch a show, or to dance, or to do anything that was not realted to reading lineage charts of the Parisian families of House Fionna. And that's when I became introduced to my subject i detest so much. As I sat there in my day dream, though it was well in the middle of the night by then, the door flung open and closed sharply.
I spun around to see what all the commotion was about and I caught the most amazing sight I had ever seen. She was a gorgeous creature of a fine standing, possibly nearly as tall as I. Her mane fell over her shoulders, despite how disheveled it appeard and shone with a brilliance of a million yellow electric lights. She was dressed remarkably, though in retrospect it was actually quite bawdy and whorish; that was probably due to the fact that she was in fact a whore.
She had sealed the door behind her and she was breathing with the harshness of a chase. She had no idea I was in the room, that I was admiring her, or that I was approaching her; I had no idea that I was approaching her.
She was a thing of beauty, the subtle rosiness of her flesh, the perfume that she was scented with, the long stretch of her neck and the most adorable set of pointed ears I had ever seen-- She had pointed ears, she is another child of the Dream, what were the chances of finding another changeling here at this time, after all ours is a dying breed, as Froggardly puts it. I see it that we are just a rare lot which lives in the most unlook for of places, that's how we had been avoiding each other all this time.
"Hello, frauline," Okay, I admit that my French is awful before I go into any more detail, I was hoping that she knew and spoke German, if not I would have to rely on the universal translation of speaking louder and slower.
She screamed and turned around in a frantic matter. She looked like she was a deer being chased by a hunter, or so I would imagine, I never hunted myself nor had I ever had to learn how to, my meals were prepared for me by my staff. But as she screamed I found myself jumping bac and then I heard Old Froggardly stir in his sleep in the other room and I needed to bring results so I cupped my hand over her mouth to silence her and to keep that old grump from waking. My success was short lived as she bit down on my fingers and I gave out a scream of my own. That's when she cupped a hand over my mouth to keep me from alerting any unwelcomed company.
We both stood there, face to face, my eyes welling up with tears, not of joy but of pain as we cupped each others mouths with our hands, only her teeth were well secured in my finger. We both muttered to each other in a muted agreement that we will remove our hands on the count of three. We both mumbled one, two, and on three we both let go and I flung myself to the corner, nursing my finger.
"You bit me," I told her, as if she didn't know.
"You have to hide me," she insisted.
"You bit me," was about all i could say until she smacked some vocabulary into my mouth.
"Okay, I'll hide you," I stammered as i tried to find a hiding spot for this perfect and beautiful stranger.
"How about in here," she asked as she was appraoching Old Froggardly's room.
"No, no, no, not in there, my mentor's within, if he catches me away from my studies, he'll have my head," I told her as I stole her away from his door and to the WC.
"I can't go in there, that's the first place he'll look," she said.
"Well, dammit, where can I hide you," I asked.
That's when I heard the door trying to be opened.
"He's here," she said. Her eyes were like the ocean, blue and watery. She was desperate to find a place to hide and that's when I came up with a plan,not a good one, mind you, but it worked.
"Get into my trousers," I instucted her.
"I beg your pardon," she retorted but I insisted that she slip my trousers on over her half naked bottom and go over to my bed where I would continue with the rest of my plan.
The door creeked open after having the lock picked. A rather strong looking brute stepped in, a scar made its way from the northern most point of his face to the southern most part of his chin. You could see his stinking breath emitt from his grisley lip.
"Where is she," he had asked in French. Okay, I can understand most of the words in the French language, I just have a hard time speaking it. The few words I know in French are enough to get myself a thrashing.
I looked up from my bed, my documents in my hands and I pretended to act dumb.
"I am sorry, I know not of whom you speak of," I said while my newly enlongated legs folded over each other to make me look more relaxed.
"You're awfuly tall for a German," the gruff man said as he traced the back of his fist across his chin to retrieve some spilled spittle.
"Well, you see, my mother was Scandanavian," I said as I showed of my long appearance.
"I see," he began, "you don't mind if I look around, do you?"
"Oh now, help yourself," I said as my new legs tapped their toes at the footrest of my bed.
I watched as he went for the WC and he found nothing there. He then checked my trunk, noting. My closet, nothing. He then went for Old Froggardly's room.
"No, don't go in there," I protested but he ingored me and opened the door and stepped in.
"Ah-ha," he exclaimed but was greeted by a swat of Old Froggardly's cane and the old grump cursed at him to leave and get lost. The brute stumbled out of the room and closed the door behind him before returning his attention to me.
"Well then, German, it appears that you are speaking the truth, I am sorry to inconvenience you, goodnight," he said to me while sporting anewly recieved black eye, curtousey of Old Froggardly. He stepped out of the hotel room and closed the door as he went on his business.
The girl then rolled off from on top of me, leaving me with my coat on lying on the bed.
"How can i thank you," she said as she removed my trousers; from her, not me, mind you.
"Well," I began, "you can start by telling me your name."
"Margot," she said.
"Margot, what a sweet name," I began, how smitten I was then that such a diamond in the rough had happened upon my hotel room that night. "The pleasure was all mine, I was merely helping a woman in need." Then it had dawned on me, who is she and who was that man, so I asked.
"That was a customer who wanted more than just a fun time," and I thought that that man was her pimp, "but i really must be going now."
Before she left I stopped her one last time.
"Can I see you again," I asked, foolhartedly.
"Maybe, but I doubt that your kind would ever go to such a place," she began.
"My kind," I had asked.
"You're obviously a sidhe, and a noble, you wouldn't last two minutes in the Underworld, I'm sorry, sir, but I do beleive that this is goodbye," she said and walked out my door.
I waited by my window to watch her pass through the streets before entering what she calls the Underworld; the seedy underbelly of Paris, a home to whores, pimps, drunks, and life. I must enter these carnal canals and emerse myself in this culture that is of the modern age.