d'horreurs

My heart is lost; the beasts have eaten it.

[theoriginalsarchive]

Why are you telling me this? Because I believe that secrets are a poison. They need to be spat out. Like your secret… about your time with Marcel.

THE ORIGINALS 1X18 The Big Uneasy

[archvillainofromance]

The stench of your judgment is overwhelming.

[joey-prue]

A walk down memory lane: Joseph Morgan TVD Season 3 Premiere Promo

[historyarchaeologyartefacts]

Finger ring in the form of a rearing cobra (Nubian, Meroitic Period, 100–320 / Sudan) [737x1024]

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And so it begins...

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parasit-ism:

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” It was strange to get health advise from a vampire. Specially when he knew that said vampire wanted to eat him. Constantine wasn’t oblivious to the this fact and he wasn’t ignoring it either. He wasn’t so reckless as to come into a vampire’s home unprepared. He trusted that Philippe would respect his boundaries because he needed him, but at the same time he knew that vampires were not famous for being trustworthy. So he had a trick or two under his sleeve just in case Philippe decided he wanted to have a taste without asking or if he decided he didn’t need him anymore. Constantine enjoyed living on the edge though and being near someone so deadly was incredibly exhilarating. Why have a safe and comfortable life when he could be in constant danger, right? 

Philippe seemed impress with his knowledge of dead languages and it only fueled his ego and his desire to learn more about these mysterious artifacts. He did feel rather embarrassed that he wasn’t as versed with this particular language and that he needed someone else to translate but at the same time he was happy to give Philippe something useful to do other than pace around and stare at him. Not that he minded the company but this was helpful. He watched as the vampire drank from the glass, blood coating his lips. “May I ask you something?” He interrupted him, taking a seat on the nearby armchair. “What is it like? Being immortal?” 

Philippe liked the way light poured into the library, but it hurt his eyes. He brought his index finger to his brow and frowned, reading carefully. It was a little nostalgic to read his own half forgotten language, brought back memories --- some of which he’d rather not remember. He took another sip from his glass of blood, somewhat disappointed that he couldn’t understand what was written as easily as he expected to. It’d been a while. Focused as he was, it took Constantine questioning him to break his concentration.

The vampire lifted his sight from the page to find the witch seated on a nearby armchair. He looked comfortable. He always looked perfectly comfortable in his company. It was almost disappointing, though he didn’t quite wish him to be fearful. “You can ask me anything. I may answer, or I may not.” Philippe offered him a smile that widened into a smirk when the witch voiced his question. “What would you do if time wasn’t an issue? That is the question, isn’t it?”

After a pause, he leaned back into his seat, focusing his attention on Constantine for a moment. “It’s not for everyone. Forget your plans, you’ll fulfill them quickly. The truth is --- everything about living comes to an end at one point or another, no matter how much time you have.” He shifted his sight back to the paper, it was the proof he needed to make his point. “Immortality, in a crude and reductive way, is about going through many births and deaths. Reinventing yourself. --- I know many immortals who couldn’t bear it because they wouldn’t let go of who they were, what they knew or how they thought.” He motioned towards the doorway. “I haven’t left everything behind, as you surely must have noticed, but I let go where it mattered most. Right here,” he said, tapping a finger at his temple. Philippe assessed the witch, then hummed, pensive. “You could pull it off. You are curious. You’d find something new to work on century after century. I have my hobbies. It’s when you lack that one next thing to look forward to that eternity becomes a burden.”

Then he straightened his back, turning to his work. “Or so I’ve heard. I, myself, can’t think of anything that’d make an ephemeral existence more appealing than immortality. Human life is full of fear. It keeps you from ever achieving something truly grand.” Philippe took another sip of blood, regretting not having brought the girl upstairs for a fresher drink. “I was never a witch, of course,” he added, throwing the man a pointed look. “An immortal witch, that’d be the most powerful creature of all. A proper way of living, I suppose. I have to admit sometimes I miss the food. Not the taste, but the experience.” Shaking his head and chuckling, he turned his attention back to the yellowed page. “I lose myself in tangents too easily. But it’s my turn to ask questions now. The institute --- what drew you to it?”

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And so it begins...

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Philippe had such a strong presence about him. An energy that was hard to ignore. The vampire really knew how to command a room. The interesting thing about him was that despite the reputation he had about being a monster, he was actually quite the charmer. “My chambers are very comfortable, thank you. I’ve been so fascinated with this grimoire. Trying to take it apart. Sleep can come later.” He did notice the glint in his eye when he mentioned food and his question brought a hint of a smile to his face. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at my neck.” He added with a little amusement in his tone. “It’s okay though, I do have a nice looking neck.” Constantine stood from the sitting position he was in, a few pages in his hand. There were others scattered across the room. “Dead languages, mostly. Akkadian, Sanskrit, Coptic and Aramaic. To name a few.” He looked at the vampire when he offered to help, handing him the paper he was carrying. “This one - looks like Vandolic but I’m not so sure.”

Philippe smiled, pleased to have found such a dedicated witch. He grew more confident in Constantine’s capabilities every day. “Don’t neglect your body, I need you at your best,” he said, running his fingertips along the edge of the table. The carvings were beautiful, Philippe almost regretted giving it away to Constantine’s work. God knew what’d happen to it once magic got involved. “The unconscious mind can make connections you are too busy thinking to consider. Give it a chance.”

He was amused by the lightness of his tone. Constantine was unafraid, more than that, he seemed to be comfortable around him. Philippe wondered if he’d ever fought off a vampire and won. That’d explain his lack of caution. That and the notion that he would be of no use to him dead. “That you do,” Philippe said, allowing his sight to wander along his neck. He’d love to sink his teeth into him, but a quick bite would make him no happier than their treasure hunt. He’d rather not lose a valuable asset over something as fickle as a craving.

Dead languages. He loved the name they’d been given for they lived only through the dead. The old ones, the Ancients, they often knew what the world thought lost. And he felt the weight of his age when Constantine handed him the page. Philippe creased his forehead as his eyes traveled down the text. “How did I miss this?” He wondered out loud, turning to give Constantine another look. “Most people would’ve suspected Gothic, not Vandalic.” The witch never ceased to amaze him. 

“Impressive work, Constantin. My Vandalic is a little rusty, but I should be able to translate it. Just give me a minute,” he said, stepping away to grab a drink downstairs and some pen and paper on his way back. Philippe hoped the page would be useful, he did hate to waste his time. Settling into a seat, he started reading the page a second time, nursing a glass of blood that was still warm in one hand.

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And so it begins...

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Constantine didn’t sleep at all. When he had a job to do it consumed him to a point where he forgot to do the most basic things like eat and sleep. He’d cast a spell on himself so that he didn’t need to. it didn’t last forever though so eventually he’d have to crash and find some real nourishment. He’d been sitting in the library surrounded by books and notebooks. He had been scribbling ideas and discoveries all over the place. Ancient languages that needed to be decipher. Words that he believed might mean something important. He wasn’t close to finding the source of the mystery but he was confident that he would be. 

He was in such concentration that he didn’t he Philippe walk in. He didn’t notice his presence until he was close to him and speaking. “I don’t eat all that much but - you can go ahead and eat something. It doesn’t bother me.” He had a feeling that most people, even witches, found the whole drinking blood thing distasteful. “Please, you don’t have to apologize. You’re a busy man. I understand.” He answered, finally pulling away from the book he was reading to meet the vampire’s eyes. “Nothing exciting. Most of the book is written in code. It’s not a language. It’s many.”

Philippe noticed the stacks of books that surrounded the witch, and the ever present frown on his forehead. He thought it might leave a mark, an observation he kept to himself for it was as random as it was useless. “You look tired,” he said instead, “I hope there is nothing wrong with your chambers. I was under the impression you enjoyed it.”

That was the problem with the living, even the strongest could be fragile. Philippe had grown to withstand a generous period of time without nourishment, but eventually he’d cave too, as vampires did --- in a vicious manner. The living had more needs however, and that meant more weaknesses. It amused him that Constantine gave him permission to eat. “Are you offering?”

The witch finally turned his nose away from his books long enough to meet his gaze. Philippe offered him a satisfied smile. “And have you identified these languages? Because that I can help with. Turns out I’m not just a pretty face.”

[originalsdaily]

[dhorreurs]

And so it begins...

Philippe didn’t sleep much, but anyone who caught him leaving his bed at ten in the morning would’ve thought otherwise. He spent long hours reading into the night, sometimes even writing his memoirs. The previous night wasn’t an exception. Philippe had come home too late, he realized, to find Constantine in the library. A pity, the man was entrancing, and not only for his magic. It was ten when he awoke a mere few hours later and the vampire put on a pair of trousers and washed up before making his way into the library.

There he was, focused in something. He tugged his lips into a crooked smile, appreciating the sight as he stepped closer to him. “I hope you didn’t skip breakfast. The first meal of the day is the most important one. I am famished.” He came to a stop before him, looking down at whatever he’d been working on. “I apologize for yesterday. I lost track of time. What did I miss?”

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One way to put it? Constantine could not deny that he wanted to know about the vampire standing in front of him. he never really had that kind of curiosity and fascination towards one of these creatures before but this one was - unique. Maybe because of his old age or because they seemed to share a common passion. He wondered how Philippe came to be so interested in collecting dark objects and learning more about magic. He could see it in his eyes when the candles were lit. How he marveled at the thought of having a witch around. Enchanted by the power that he possessed. “Well, that depends on whether you like surprises or not. I think - you’re someone who wants to be involved in the details. Know everything that goes on under your nose.” He walked closer to Philippe as he talked, slowly closing the gap between the two. “Since you’re the boss, I’m doing whatever you want me to do. I can work on my own and tell you when I get results or - you can stay and watch. I don’t get stage fright.”

Constantine didn’t jump to conclusions, he wasn’t easily swayed, and though Philippe usually revelled in such character faults, using them to manipulate those who surrounded him, he had to admit he found it attractive to have someone who was capable of thinking with their own head around him. “I wasn’t aware I was so transparent,” the vampire commented, but there was amusement on his tone. Philippe watched as the witch stepped closer to him with the confidence of a man who spoke to an equal. The warmth that radiated from him was pleasant, but he managed to keep his hands to himself. “I make an excellent audience. I should be back in a few hours, but please, do make yourself comfortable. I will join you when I can.” He offered Constantine a small smile before making his way outside, feeling more confident in the witch now than he had been earlier.

[historyfilia-deactivated2025061]

Engraved Portrait of Aurelian

Roman, A.D. 260–280 

Medium: Amethyst

From the J. Paul Getty Museum

[laufire]

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Surely he wasn’t expecting to be treated like a prisoner, but he also was not expecting for Philippe to give him the royal treatment. Buttering him up. That’s what he was doing. True that it was stroking his ego. He said his name again, and Constantine could not help but notice the way he was pronouncing it. It was something he’d never heard before but he knew that this was not some mistake on his part. That Philippe was choosing to articulate it differently. He wanted to ask why he had decided to do that but it didn’t bother him enough to question it. Anything was better than the name his mother had given him. Michael. It means, who is like God. It seemed as though his mother had plans for him. As if she expected greatness from him. And she wasn’t wrong. He became great but by his own making. Hannah did nothing for him and therefore he was not going to honor the name she had casted upon him. His eyes were glued to the painting, chuckling lightly when Philippe described it as soothing. Most people would look at something as macabre as this and think of it as horrifying. “Interesting. You find cannibalism soothing.” Of course he would. He was a cannibal in his own right. 

He smiled and followed him into the hallway. A few more steps and they were inside the library. Another vast room that seemed endless. The windows were large but they were blinded by heavy curtains. Again, his eyes scanned the area. He made his way towards the grimoire, reaching to touch it with his fingers. The power he felt just by being in the same rom with it. He could not wait to discover the dark secrets it kept. He looked around. Everything he had asked had been brought here. Even the candles had been placed around the room in specified locations. “Yes, you’ve been very helpful.” With a light wave of his hand, the candles came to life, brightening up the place. “Much better. Makes it seem a little more - magical, don’t you think?”

He switched his attention to Constantine when the man chuckled, watching him closely. The mention of cannibalism drew a soft laugh from his lips and the vampire shook his head. “That’s one way to put it,” he mused, falling into silence for a moment longer as his sight was drawn back to the painting. “There has always been a place in the world for us, man eating monsters,” Philippe said and smirked at him. “A comforting thought for me, not so much for you I’m afraid.”

Constantine looked like he was in his element in the library and he smiled when the witch lightened up the candles. “A little showmanship can’t hurt,” Philippe agreed, nearing the man. He liked the scent of him, and the strong, steady drum of his heart. Constantine looked positively appetizing, but he looked many things and the vampire focused on what mattered most: capable. “Here we are,” he announced, glancing between the witch and his grimoire. “Do you know what you’ll be starting with? Or are you going to surprise me?” Philippe was hoping he’d have a plan by now.

[niklausroyals]

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“Lucky me.” He could not deny that it was a boost to his ego. The fact that Philippe had chosen him over every other witch he knew. The fascination he had with his kind was obvious and he knew that the vampire owned several places that employed witches to create spells, decipher grimoires, etc. Out of all of them, he had decided that he was the one he needed. “Well, I won’t disappoint you. You have my word.” And his word was his bond, was it not? True that it might seem a little too arrogant of him to say he could do something that has never been done before. Constantine didn’t see barriers or obstacles though. He just saw opportunities. He found the trill in the challenge and he knew that when he got to the finish line it would be extremely satisfying. “Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.” He could see it in his eyes. Part surprise and part amusement. How he never asked if it was in the plan for him to say but simply set the cards on the table. Philippe had a good hand too and so he led him to his chambers.

There were thick curtains, a king sized bed in the center, an expensive rug, paintings, a bookcase. “Are you this hospitable to all of your guests?” He added, taking a few steps towards the walls to inspect the paintings. Yes, he noticed the Goya hanging there and he took a few moments to look at it. “Is this the original?” Of course it was. “I’ll come find you if I ever need your assistance.” Philippe was being an exceptional host and he wondered if this was just because he was trying to butter him up. Get him on his good side so he could get what he wanted from him. Constantine wasn’t foolish to trust the vampire, specially knowing how vulnerable he could be in the middle of the night while he slept. And Philippe? He wasn’t foolish either and he knew better than to trust a witch. And yet, here they were. The vampire closed the gap between them but even though his presence was intimidating, Constantine didn’t flinch. “I don’t think the tour would be complete without it. After you.”

Philippe smiled at the witch when he gave him his word. They meant nothing to him, of course, but it did mean something that he offered them to him. “I believe you, Constantin, after all that’s why you’re here. I didn’t choose you for the pretty face,” he said with a pointed look, pulling his lips into a lopsided smile. The man’s gratitude was unexpected, and it softened his smile just for a moment. “Well, you’d be of no use to me if you starved.”

The walk to his chambers was quiet, but quick. Philippe watched Constantine as he took in the bedroom, and when the witch questioned him, he chuckled. “My friendship comes with many perks, but this is just the way of civilized men. What good would it do to toss you into a dungeon?” He motioned to the room. “You’ll be able to focus on your work if you are happy --- if you’re not distracted by mundane worries. Like finding the time to do groceries.”

He turned to look at the Goya, and marvel in its gruesome beauty. “I take it wherever I go. Saturn devouring his son. I find it soothing.”

Constantine didn’t even flinch when he approached him, but then again he didn’t expect him to. He seemed to fear no one, perhaps due to his confidence in his own abilities. He’d faced near death at least twice in the past few years and he still found the notion that a creature could harm him fairly exciting. “Follow me,” Philippe said, stepping outside the room to head into the library. It was on the same floor as the bedroom, a wide room with large windows. The walls were lined with shelves full of books, and there was a long table in the center. The grimoire had been left there, as was the key and every other item from Constantine’s list. “This should do.”

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“I’m sure you could.” He could see that. Philippe mounting a horse, all cavalier. “I’m confident because I’m good. Isn’t that why you asked for me?” There was nothing more pathetic to him than those who thought of themselves as having greatness without the talent to back it up. Constantine wasn’t a natural witch, mostly because his power only came from one side of the family. The fact that he was never taught anything growing up made him far less likely to match the knowledge of his peers. However, he managed to best ever other witch he met by pure force of will and determination. Once he saw something he wanted, he never stopped until he got it. This deal with the vampire was a great opportunity for him. Not only would it allow him access to more power but it would provide him with a strong ally. Philippe turned and led him around the house. The place was vast and it reminder Constantine of a museum. Why would anyone need this much space? Then again, he always dreamt of having it, didn’t he? Specially when he was reminded of that claustrophobic flat in London. 

They stepped inside the living room and Constantine’s eye roamed across the space. He could see himself at home here, even with the vampire breathing down his neck - literally. “Do you keep a lot of company?” He asked, wondering why he would have a kitchen stock with food if he only fed on blood. He smiled, turning around to notice the little details before turning back to face Philippe. “And - where will I be sleeping?” Not that the vampire had offered him a place to spend his nights but he figured it would make more sense to reside here temporarily than to move back and forth from here to his apartment. 

“Well, I do have an eye for talent,” he said with a smile, though what he meant by talent was ambition above everything else. Curiosity. A desire for more. Knowledge. Power. Magic. It was what truly caught his eye, and Constantine seemed to have plenty of it. He’d learn whether his instincts were right soon enough.  

It amused him that the first question the man asked was about his company. “I love a good party and, as you might have noticed, I enjoy the company of witches, though I haven’t been feeling extremely social as of late. These were bought this morning, for you and the occasional visit.” Philippe smiled again when the witch asked about his quarters. Bold, that one, though he had thought about it himself. He didn’t expect a witch who didn’t know him all too well to trust him around their unconscious, delicious throats, but he still had a room prepared for him just in case. Constantine didn’t wait for a question to be asked, did he? He quite liked that he wasn’t afraid of him, though it was admittedly an unusual sensation to him at this point in his very long life. “It’s this way,” Philippe said, leading the way back to the staircase in the foyer. It ended in a hallway and he took the right, taking the witch to the very end of the corridor and pushing a door open for him. The room was spacious, decorated much like the rest of the house, with a large bed, loveseat, desk, walk in closet and ensuite bathroom. There was a small bookcase too, filled with books. He’d left his Goya in the room for inspiration. “I hope you’ll find it comfortable.” He turned to face Constantine. “I’m at the other end of the hallway, in case you’re wondering.” Smiling, Philippe stepped closer to the witch. “Shall we take a look at your work station next?”

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Constantine’s green eyes were wide as he splashed water over his face, causing an unpleasant sting to consume his pupils as the liquid washed between his eyelids. The whites of his eyes were puffy and bloodshot as he caught sight of them in the bathroom mirror, causing the man to blink once – twice – before he pressed his eyelids tightly together. It had been a good several nights since he had gotten more than a few hours of sleep. Work consumed him. Years spent this way had made it so that the witch had grown accustomed to spending his nights reading about dark magic and working on spells. His body had, in time, learned to accept the fact that he did not sleep much and therefore functioned reasonably well without any rest at all, running normally on perhaps less than five hours.  He kept his eyes closed, needing the small breath of relaxation. He muttered a few words and it was not long before his body started to feel a lot more energized. That was the good thing about being a witch. Being able to push your body to the breaking point and then bring it back to its perfect condition with pure force of will and a few enchantments. When his eyes fluttered open, he felt as good as new. And he needed to be at his best, specially today. He was meeting Philippe again and if there was something Constantine liked doing was make an impression. Not only a first impression but a constant parade of them.

He said nothing during the ride to Philippe’s chateau. When he saw the magnitude of where he lived Constantine was impressed and overwhelmed in the best way possible. He never had much of anything and what he had now was because he had worked his ass off to get it. He wondered what his life could be like if he had centuries to gather wealth and power. Philippe waited for him and Constantine gave him a soft smile in return. “The car ride? It was alright. Not as long as I expected.” He stepped into the foyer, eyes scanning the place. “Let me guess, you enjoy walking? And if you had to choose, you’d walk everywhere?” Even though he didn’t know exactly how old Philippe was, he could tell by his posture, dialect, mannerisms, that he didn’t belong in modern society. “I brought a few things. But - between you and me, I’m really all I need.” He knew he was usually overconfident, but he also knew that he was able to back it up. “Nice place you have here. Mind giving me the tour?”

Constantine had been indifferent to him right up to the moment he made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Now he smiled, and Philippe had to admit it looked good on him. “Well, I could do with a little horseback riding as well,” he teased with a playful look, then he laced his hands together behind his back. “I hope you are as good as you are confident,” the vampire said and smiled, allowing himself to roam his figure again. He presented himself as a competent man, and he found him entertaining. At least his work didn’t bore him like others had. He was his best bet for competence and entertainment. It’d be terrible to have to resort to a dull witch. Hopefully Constantine would do. “I would love to.” He stretched a hand to the side. “Please, follow me.”

Philippe lead him into the living room where light poured in from the large windows. Paintings decorated the walls, rugs covered the floors. There was a loverseat under the center window, framed by heavy curtains. The whole place looked like one could find in an english home many decades ago and he liked it that way. “You’ll be spending a lot of time in here,” the vampire said, turning his head to face Constantine. “Let me know if you need a radio.” He smiled at him again, pleased with himself. “The kitchen is over here,” Philippe said, crossing the room to reach the door at the back. A window on the wall offered a glimpse of the kitchen. “I don’t eat so help yourself to whatever you like.”