Escher Von Preshlow

Over and over and over again

Escher sighed, rubbing his sore throat and laying with his back on the upholstered couch by the fire. At least he could rest again, after the day he'd had. Or at least- rest as much as he could with Volenta fiddling with one of her traps on the sofa opposite. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the clicking, ticking and scratching noises of her tinkering. He pinched the bridge of his nose, doing his best to focus on the crackling of the fire.

Strahd's study was usually the one of the few places Escher could find true comfort. While it may not earn him the privacy of his own chambers, at least here he was surrounded by books. Books so old that they came from home. Books that told the same ancient legends he drew up reading back on the material plane. A few of them in Strahd's vast library were even first edition copies of the same books he grew up learning to read. It was the closest Escher could feel to an escape.

Speaking of privacy- any semblance of rest was destroyed the moment Escher heard the creak of a door open and in strode Strahd himself, being followed immediately by the remainder of his romantic entourage.

Volenta dropped her project down into the side table and scooched along the cushions to allow their Master to sit beside her, changing the object of her full attention in the snap of his fingers. Strahd sat, relaxed and Volenta lay herself in his lap, placing her head to rest on one of his thighs. Ludmilla handed Strahd a goblet, which he took and reclined back into the goose-feather packed upholstery.

"I've got something to bring home to you all very soon, my loves." The Master smirked, taking a large gulp from the goblet before raising it up to indicate Anastrasya take it from him. "By the gods, whatever did you do to Escher? The man needs a refreshment more than I do." He looked over at the blonde lying limply opposite him, his beautiful face scrunched into a frown and his clothes stained with black ink-like gore. Anastrasya bowed before taking the goblet and positioned herself in the most opportune space to bother the bard even further.

Escher's eyes were near scarlet, the tell-tale sign that a vampire was in dire need of a feed. Anastrasya had always been careful not to tip Escher too far over the edge... Other vampires do not make good feeling partners but when one is so thirsty, it's difficult not to give into it. At that point, anything, anyone would do. Ana knew this and so only ever tortured the man within an inch of that breaking point... for her own sake. It was so awfully fun to tiptoe that boundary though.

Anastrasya relaxed beside Escher, leaning on him while he sat up just enough to drink without the thick liquid spilling.

Strahd cleared his throat, beginning his tale about the new travellers he met on the road. Escher largely ignored him. These discussions often were inflated by Strahd's own ego, and dominated by harsh judgements or exaggerated characteristics of the adventurers mentioned. Something of note was that all of them were apparently rather attractive, but Strahd was mainly only interested in two of them, the women of the party. The fact he only spoke of the women told Escher, in subtext, that he wasn't being replaced anytime soon. He knew not if that brought him some comfort or deep sorrow.

"The sorceress is a liar though." Strahd mused, "Once she agrees to my terms, I am positive you can teach her proper manners though, can't you ladies?"

Strahd's wives all smiled widely at the prospect, Escher smiled too, purely to fit in. Anastrasya let a wandering hand enter the collar of the blonde's shirt, gliding a hand across his chest. Escher bristled beneath her, not that she'd ever notice.

"And of the men?" Escher asked, almost hoping to drop Ana a clue.

Strahd waved a hand dismissively, "Not to my personal tastes... in the romantic sense at least." The latter half of his sentence grew his grin wide enough for a fang to protrude through his lips. "One of them..." he paused for dramatic effect, "Is a werewolf."

Escher looked at his husband over the rim of the goblet, raising an eyebrow. They had plenty of werewolves in Barovia, another one was wholly uninteresting and made no difference, to him at least. To Strahd however... It meant that the Count had an opportunity to stock up on Lycan blood without damaging his wolven-allegiance. It was something of a delicacy, and one Strahd exclusively allowed for himself, none of his courtesans would ever have the pleasure.

"Very good my Lord." Escher nodded, bringing a hand up to wipe his mouth, but he was intercepted by Anastrasya, who dragged her thumb across his lips instead.

"There you go, love." She whispered, licking it clean. He ignored her.

"And... thank you, my Lord." he raised the goblet, a grateful gesture, as if to make a toast. "I really needed this." A fractured smile ran across his face.

Strahd filled the room with a deep laughter. The fire in the hearth flared up as the sound made Escher's unbeating heart sink.
"Ludmilla, refill his cup," he ordered, "I regret that we were interrupted earlier... We shall resume our fun together once more in an hour." He clapped his hands, gently pushing Volenta off his lap so that he could stand. "Drink up, I want you ready for me. Don't bother washing first."

Escher bowed his head and closed his eyes. Wishing he had the freedom to say no. Wishing he could turn so many years of pent up anger into unadulterated violence and rid the land of these monsters once and for all. But he was one of them. And with both Anastrasya's hands and Strahd's gaze on him...

The bard reached his free hand up to Anastrasya's face to return her affection, and he looked up to Strahd with an intense look in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

"Where would you like me?"