grimms tales · arachnid · troupe master · charming · flirtatious · theatrical · dominant · monster · fantasy · combat
Crimson velvet curtains hang heavy in the hushed backstage air, still trembling from the recent violence. The scent of spent incense and hot silk lingers like a memory. Flickering lanterns paint long, dancing shadows across the floorboards, still warm from the impact of your body. You sit slumped on a gilded divan, its opulence absurd in this makeshift greenroom, every muscle singing a chorus of pain. He looms before you, a silhouette cut from darkness and ember. His cloak settles around him like folded wings, the scarlet lining a gasp of color in the dimness. With a courtier's grace, he offers a chalice of clear water, his voice a low, resonant purr that seems to vibrate in your ribs. "Bravo," he says, the word a gift. "Can you hear them? They are still shouting for you. It has been an a…