Mistress Jorja
The 8th Deadly Sin
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2001
- Posts
- 1,216
OOC: A continuation of M.T.F: Team Bluestrike
The house was done up in proper Spanish Villa style. Situated in the center of lush, sprawling lawns, luminaria winked along the roughly hewn stone pathway. Rich terra-cotta designs flirted along the window ledges and door frames, the deep gold and crimson designs fluctuating in everychanging mosaics.
Jacarandas blossomed, spilling their glossy purple contents along the white washed trellises. Skirting the outdoor patio were towering date palms, their fronds casting soft shadows in the flickering candle light. Topiary trimmed in the forms of enchanting creatures, and secluded fountains depicting nymphs and elven creatures with water dribbling over their frozen forms, could be found in the tangle of footpaths and walkways.
Small tables with intricately woven wicker chairs were clustered together in the intimate style of a street side cantina. Mood music drifted lightly on the night breeze, carrying the melodic strains of a single violin and the exotic aromas from the kitchens. Delicate strings of lights like the fine strands of a spider web illuminated the luxurious frocks adorning the women and the proper, elegant three-piece suits of the men. The lack of harsh fluorescent lighting made the scene seem almost dreamlike in its qualities.
Almost.
That is, until you noticed the electrified fence engulfing the perimeter...the infrared alarm system...the tactfully hidden security cameras...the faint ghost of shoulder holsters beneath the waiters starched white shirts.
The house was done up in proper Spanish Villa style. Situated in the center of lush, sprawling lawns, luminaria winked along the roughly hewn stone pathway. Rich terra-cotta designs flirted along the window ledges and door frames, the deep gold and crimson designs fluctuating in everychanging mosaics.
Jacarandas blossomed, spilling their glossy purple contents along the white washed trellises. Skirting the outdoor patio were towering date palms, their fronds casting soft shadows in the flickering candle light. Topiary trimmed in the forms of enchanting creatures, and secluded fountains depicting nymphs and elven creatures with water dribbling over their frozen forms, could be found in the tangle of footpaths and walkways.
Small tables with intricately woven wicker chairs were clustered together in the intimate style of a street side cantina. Mood music drifted lightly on the night breeze, carrying the melodic strains of a single violin and the exotic aromas from the kitchens. Delicate strings of lights like the fine strands of a spider web illuminated the luxurious frocks adorning the women and the proper, elegant three-piece suits of the men. The lack of harsh fluorescent lighting made the scene seem almost dreamlike in its qualities.
Almost.
That is, until you noticed the electrified fence engulfing the perimeter...the infrared alarm system...the tactfully hidden security cameras...the faint ghost of shoulder holsters beneath the waiters starched white shirts.
