A Song In The Woods: - The Castle Under the Swamp

Becker Road swamp hadn't changed much in the last century. The roads were once beaten paths and deer trails, now there was a paved road through it. But other then that...

The night is warm here, and the swamp is peculiar in that strangely comforting way. The branches are laced and woven in places that almost imply letters, but maybe that is a trick of the light? Fireflies dance about, swirling through the bogs and marshlands, happily dancing over the water and plants. The need to wander is almost irresistible... to get lost in the trees... to sink into the murky water...

Then the fog lifts the mind and a small boat bumps against a rock.

The cab driver looked at her twice "You sure you want left here lady?"

Greer smiled at the driver "Yes and keep the change" as the driver handed him her luggage and she handed him a $100.

While the driver left her she finally opened her patent leather trench coat, the black skirt with lavender pin strips, the patent leather waist cincher and lavender top finished out her outfit. Looking around carefully she says with her velvety voice "Cuál es muchacha del S.A. a hacer para conseguir un paseo al rey en amarillo."







(What is a girl to do to get a ride to the King in Yellow)

The fireflies swirl and spin around her, almost as if they are capable of understanding and light a path to the small antique boat that is bumping against a rock a few feet from her.

Following the fireflies she heads to the boat with her bag, looks at the boat and gets in. A very amused smile crossing her face then softly "Now what?"

The fireflies swirl about and dance near her face. On closer inspection, the look almost mechanical. Before she gets too good a look though, the boat lurches forward and slowly starts to guide itself through the swamp. It seems to know where it's going even without a proper guide. As she passes the trees, she sees cleverly hidden crystals and dolls in the trees. Glyphs are carved into a few trees, a few lovers marks. Really, the swamp was an enchantingly lovely place... if one didn't know what slumbered beneath it.

Before long the boat bumps into a small limestone outcropping. At first it looks like it's nothing, but then a stairway can be noticed. A keen eye can note water droplets rolling up the stairs. The fireflies swirl down the stairway and reveal a heavy, closed stone door. The stairs and the door are old. Centuries old. Ornate things are carved into the door, but are fading well now.

As the fireflies swirl about the door, it opens just a barest fraction of a crack.

Stepping out of the boat, smoothing her skirt, brinigng her one bag with her, and looked around. Seeing the water she smiles now really sure she was in the right place. Walking down the steps taking her time. Once the door is cracked she pushed open the door a bit more, she shook her head, and while she was stepping in threw her voice "Knock knock" with a soft whisper.

The door opens to a hallway, a warm one with torch sconces periodically lighting the path deeper underground. It looks as if this was once a natural limestone cavern but altered. Changed without tools. The flames from the torches are glittery, swirling, and purple. Laughter echos upward from the darkened hallway. Slowly the stone path opens into a warm sitting room.

There are a few antique oil lamps sitting on dark wooden tables. Overstuff chairs of fine leather dot the room and ornate ottomans rest waiting to lavish attention upon aching feet. As their guest enters the room, several forms enter the room for one of the three doors out of the sitting chamber. Three are girls, their ages hard to place but under twenty. They are all attractive in their way, wearing sheer veils and fine silk screens that leave nothing to the imagination. Silvery metallic collars sit comfortably around each of their throats with metallic, thin chains winding from their necks to cuffs about their wrists. A final metallic strip of metal circles their waists with tendrils of chain connecting their waists to their throats.

Each of the girls seems to be carrying something on a covered silver tray. The last creature to enter is a bustling clockwork nursemaid of some sort. She is made of what looks like tea kettles and cooking pots, dressed in a simply absurd french maid outfit.

"Oh me oh my!" she chortles and comes up to take Greer's bags. "You look very different, but I think it seats well on you! Oh yes, oh me oh my! Please, please! Sit and bless us with your company. The Master is on his way. Indeed yes, indeed he is! And he will lavish the hospitality of this household upon you!"

Greer looks around, with a soft laugh, keeping one bag, and sits down. "I like keeping my natural hair color." with a soft nod to the "Maid" looking at the girls with a wry smile. "I am glad he is home to receive me and my presents for him." with a nod to the "Maid."

Leaning back she briefly closes her eyes glad to be done with "formality" of her first night here.... again.

The clockwork lady chortles a musical laughter again before courtesy with her aluminum frills.

"I'll just have a guest room made up for you, honored guest," she takes the bag she was given and bustles off as the masked figure of The King in Yellow enters the room for another doorway. He is draped head to toe in linen, long yellow with age. He is long of limb and gaunt of form. Fingers draped in loves are far too long for their hand and every other inch of his skin is concealed behind the fabric.

He bows perfectly as he enters.

"Be most welcomed, my dearest guest," he says in a delightful tone. Until he laughs. His quiet laugh is like a broken windchime falling down the stairs. "What brings you back to my swamp by our humble city?"

"The song says here is where I am to be and how could I not stop by to see you. I've not found where to rest my head and I was hoping my dear Rey en Amarillo that I would not be a bother till then." her tone reflecting a happiness at seeing him.

The King in Yellow waves his gloved hands, "Don't be absurd, my dear girl. You are a delight and a guest is a treasure. That makes this visit a double blessing, no?"

He laces his fingers and leans back in the chair, "You will no doubt wish to tell me of the outside world, and I am thirsty for your voice. But first, I must give the offerings of hospitality."

A soft bell sounds in the distance. The first of the three girls approaches Greer, courtesies gracefully before kneeling at the edge of the chair. The first platter is lifted to reveal an ornate bottle of the deepest red.

"Wine, the likes of which you haven't tasted in an age. The process makes it quite palatable for those with our afflictions," he chuckles. "Be careful where you fall asleep if you overindulge my dear, or your dreams might be tragically troubled..."

The second girl steps forward, courtesies, kneels, and lifts the cover revealing shimmering silken clothing of some kind. They are neatly folded, so it is difficult to tell what they are of.

"A change of clothes; travel is terrible for the comforts, and the first step to setting it aside is to put on comfortable clothing," he gestures to the third. The girl steps forward, courtesies, kneels and uncovers the platter. Under it is a small silver key.

"Any of the girls you find here, save for my retainers, will serve you. Select one and she will wait upon your every need while you reside here."

Greer looks over the gifts "You always out do my simple gifts I bring you. Do you want them now or after I've changed?" looking the girls over with a careful eye. Holding a smaller bag on her lap. "As for the world I hid from it for a while in Berlin but I will tell you of what I saw since the last we talked."

The King in Yellow chuckles again and stands, sweeping a bow and offering his arm.

"Come, you shall tell me all these things, but let me lavish the road off of you," he gestures and the three girls cover the platters, back away slowly, and rise to hurry off. Presumably to her room, but who can say?

Greer heads the way he has motioned, following the girls, and starting to pull pins out of her hair while walking. "It was a busier night than I expected sorry for arriving later than expected. It seems" looking around with a sly smile "You are doing well."

The King in Yellow nods, "Yes. The modern nights are filled with delights for me. And the break down of people caring about anything beyond their front door has made my... indulgences so easy to engage in. Really, such decadence is unseemly, but I believe I am old enough to dabble in whatever pleasures strike my fancy, yes?" he chuckles slightly and guides her down through the twisting tunnels of the castles.

They pass by a few rooms. Dozens of girls work the halls. Some are dressed as the three girls with platters; gauze and collars. Some are dressed as you would expect servants doing dirty work like cooking or crafting. Many are dressed as strippers or prostitutes. The only common thread is some form of silver around their neck. And that they are all lovely between 15 and 25.

They stop in front of room, and the King in Yellow gestures for Greer to open the door.

"Here is your room, dear guest," he gestures and the three girls slip inside without allowing her to see inside the room. The King in Yellow gestures to the door across the hall. "And this is the freshening room."

He sweeps the door open. Inside is a massive claw footed tub. This is more like a centaur-tub with a torso and arms chiseled to perfection. There is no facet to pour into the tub, but it is already filled with steaming, bubbly water.

A secret smile crosses her face "You truly do know how to make one feel special Rey en Amarillo." she takes in the view of the room. "Here this should keep your entertained while I freshen up." handing him two simply brown paper items. One is the shape of a book and the other three inches by 5 inches. "You've been on my mind often lately which is another reason I had to come to you." walking into the room.

"Ooooooh," the King in Yellow says softly, pleasure practically leaking from the ornate mask. "Thank you dear girl..."

He runs fingers over the brown bag that is book shaped, "I do have a secret weakness for the written word..."

Slowly the book is unwrapped with such delighted zeal. The centaur-tub gestures to her in as alluring a way as possible, rubbing the marble rim slowly with a single finger.

She watches as he opens her gift Jacob Böhme
Psychologia vera Softly said "The man said it was a rare first edition so I thought you must have it." hoping he has liked her choice for him.

The King in Yellow coo's happily and promptly drops to sitting in an Indian position with his back against the wall outside the freshening room. Long gloved fingers stroke the cover of the book lovingly and he starts to slowly flip through the pages, eyes caressing each and every inch of the parchment.

With his actions she happily bounces towards the waiting tub, untying her cincher, slipping out of her travel clothes, and then slides into the tub. Softly humming while she soaks in the tub, with a teasing tone "Not opening the second box yet?"

The centaur-tub begins to speak with his hands (as he lacks a head) gesturing to his chest. A cleverly hidden latch under its left pectoral muscle causes his chest to swing open. Inside are dozens of small vials of smelling oils, bath salts, fizzy things for the tub, all manner of girly things. It's almost as if dozens of girls filled it with girly bath products for months.

"All things, dear girl, in their time," he flips the next page and examines an illustration closely.

An excited "Ohh" sounds, while she looks at each item, picking a few up, and then choosing a citrus oil to add to the bath. Humming again softly she relaxes in the tub.

The stony fingers of the centaur-tub closes its chest and lathers up a soap bubble crown, washing her hair with surprisingly gentle technique. It massages her shoulders, washes her hair, pleasantly cleaning its occupant. Then it tugs at a rope and it begins to rain a nice warm water from the ceiling. There are no visible something to disperse this water, it just starts a pleasant downpour.

Greer gleefully finishes her bath, reaches over for a towel, before picking up the change of clothes, picking up the outfit it is an iridescent lavender silk spaghetti strapped just above the knee baby doll dress. A melodic laugh sounds while she walks out of the room with a soft twirl.

Looking for him "They said it was in almost perfect condition."

The masked figure looks up from the book, his voice dripping with pleasure.

"My, my. You are quite a vision," his voice is melodic in a slightly disjointed way. "And this is indeed a gift."

He stands slowly, unfolding. As he shifts, his movements give away that he is likely far taller then he implies. The book is closed with a reverence usually reserved for religious artifacts. It is placed under his arm as his long fingered hand finds a way to the small of her back and he gestures to the door to her room.

"A view of your room, and then perhaps we can speak of your future and past," he says gesturing to the closed door that has been labeled as her room.