The Welsh country side is always such a contrast. Lush green country side surrendering to dreary grey skies at the horizon. It is against this somber backdrop that a crumbling old castle rises up from the emerald green hills.
The castle wears its age upon its sleeve but it wears it with dignity. Despite being run down just enough to have character, the castle stands almost as if it exists outside of time. It would be easy to imagine it teaming with life and romantic Medieval Lords and Ladies as it is to see it all but deserted.
Not truly deserted though, The local village speaks of an eccentric man that lives here. Superstitious nonsense about him is always being bantered about in one for or another, popular thought is that he must be a vampire like in a bad Movie. Regardless, he has fine taste in Automobiles. A 1971 Jaguar is parked out in front of the castle, the black paint job waxed to a flawless shine.
Picturesque even. Stone, green stuff. It's pretty as a storybook. A slightly dilapidated deteriorating storybook maybe, but a storybook none the less.
Gwendolyn parks her car off the drive, getting out of it and standing on the other side of the door for a moment. She reaches through the back window and pulls out a briefcase like setup, though made of wood.
If someone were observant, they would've noticed that the car was parked on the next rise over for a good half hour or so before coming down. Which is, in general, as close as most of the tourist types get to the Haunted castle. But this one seems to be getting in a little farther.
It is not so much that Lowe is observant but rather that he likes to lurk in the battlements of his castle. Of course this only fuels the 'he's a vampire in a haunted castle' argument that bothers him so. From the guard tower it is hard to miss where your car was parked for the better part of a half an hour before. When you finally make your way closer and park the sign of the castles master, other than his car being parked along the crushed white rock drive. His presence.... or someone's presence can be felt. Someone is most certainly watching.
Either Gwendolyn is exceedingly unobservant by contrast, or she doesn't care much. But, something does seem to stop her for a moment as she tilts her head to the side, black curls brushing her cheek slightly where a couple of them have escaped from under the kerchief she is wearing. But, she shrugs.
Then, wonder of wonders, she starts to walk up the drive. Towards the castle rather than away from it. In her painter pants and denim shirt, she doesn't look like one of those vampire groupies that seem to flock to the castle at certain times of the year. She's got entirely too much color. In fact, her shirt is somewhat covered with color, all kinds of colors in no particular pattern at all.
There's a sigh that is quickly swallowed by the wind when Gwendolyn seems intent on checking out the Castle a bit closer, "At least she doesn't look like one of those gothite groupies...." Lowe says to himself with a sigh. He really doesn't like those. "I suppose I should ask her what she wants." And he pushes away from where he skulks in the battlements and makes his way down to the gate house to greet the young lady.
Seconds later huge doors are creaking loudly, their noise cracking into the night as a tall raven haired man steps forward to meet you, "Hello Miss. I don't suppose I can help you. If you are selling something I'm not interested."
"Hiya." The girl says with a smile, "And not really. Well, kind of." She reaches around the wooden box and pulls off a thick sheet of paper.
"I was wondering if it'd be alright if I come up and paint the tower?" Gwendolyn finishes coming up the drive the rest of the way, vampire or no vampire. "I'm doing a study, and it'd be perfect in the..."
When she gets up close enough to have a look at the mysterious eclectic her sentence cuts off in the middle of her thought, in fact stopping where she was walking.
"Well if you're selling the painting for a lot of money I hope I can ask for royal..." That sentence probably ended with something about Royalties but it trails off as you stop mid though in the drive.
Lowe's instinct is to look high and low and around him to see if perhaps the goblins from the cave are up here causing some kind of mischief seeing none attention returns to Gwendolyn, "I take it something is the matter miss? If this is about the stories those toothless villagers tell about me I can assure you that almost all of them are untrue."
"Do I know you?" She asks suddenly, as though it's the most natural thing to say in the world. Still not having taken up her steps towards the doorway again, her expression is readily obvious in its confusion. If she notices the glances around to see what might have startled her it goes unexpressed.
"I know the stories..." Gwendolyn says absently, tilting her head to the side a bit and blinking, "But... You don't come to galleries in Carmarthen, do you?"
He's met a lot of people in his life time.... It's been some 1500 years that he's been bound to this world had to learn to measure time as men do. Sure he is not tied to the ticking of the clock the way mortals are, but he still lets it change his perceptions a bit. "I don't believe so..." Lowe says, the young woman given a more scrutinizing look now.
"I have been to the some of the galleries in Carmarthen, I usually get biscotti there." They make very good biscotti for the people visiting the galleries, really. "Might I ask your name miss?" She looks a little familiar to be certain.. but then... so many people do anymore.
She blinks a little again and seems to shake off whatever it was that she'd noticed, "Ah, Gwendolyn. Gwendolyn Meyrick."
She follows the drive up the rest of the way now, though she's a little more nervous than she was to begin with for whatever reason. Vampire stories may not bug her, but something else has gotten to her it seems, "I must've just seen you there then."
Holding out the page towards you by way of introduction she says, "Here."
The name strikes him... and for a moment Lowe is silent. "I knew a Gwendolyn once.... it was a very long time ago...." This Gwendolyn might even favor her just a touch. Lowe just shakes his head, "I am called Lowe." He pronounces it very.. germanish 'LooVeh'
"It means Lion.. I picked it up when I used to do the raver scene in Berlin and it stuck." He looks up at the tower then and says, "You are welcome to paint the tower however... You mentioned a project?"
"Oh." Gwendolyn stops again for a moment at the description of where the name came from. And for a moment... the briefest one, it's almost as though she's catching someone in a lie. Her brow furrows, and she settles back on her feet easily, "I've never been to Germany, sorry."
Glancing at the paper in her hand again she holds it out, "Um, yeh. I paint... So... I was wanting to do a series on the tower. But, maybe that wouldn't be such a good idea."
The page itself is a watercolor. Obviously what she was doing up on the hill when her car was parked. The pen and ink drawing defines the tower and ruins against the background, the only lines on the page. Bold black strokes coupled with intricate smaller ones creating the image. The watercolors add a dreamy quality. Blue for the sky, the deep emerald of the rolling hills, and the obscure grey of the stone. There wasn't any concern with staying in the lines as such, the pen itself defines the image. The color is ethereal instead, almost as though there was a haze.
Lowe generally makes conscious effort to not quirk a brow. It's a gesture he finds annoying and has even gone so far to beat someone half to death and leave them on the side of the road for the offense. Regardless his brow quirks up against his better judgment "It's very good." he says with a nod.
"All I ask is that you let me know when you are going to be here and when you'll be painting. The villagers all like to exaggerate about this place but it is the Welsh Country side... strange things can and will find a way to happen."
"Sure..." Gwendolyn answers, though there's a bit of hesitancy to it. "And thanks."
"So Germany?" She arches an eyebrow, "I thought the owner of the tower had been living here for centuries." The way she draws out the last word makes it sound like she does know the tales from the village. Ancient ruin, ancient owner. Evil blood sucking fiend who steals unwary virgins from the village.
"Well it's been in my family a very long time." Lowe explains, "Doesn't mean we can't go visit Germany now does it?"
There's a brief furrow in her brow at that again, followed by a nod. The unaccustomed sense that the story just doesn't wash with her for whatever reason. "I'm sure it's nice."
"Anyway. Um, so I'll send you a card or something if I'm going to be coming back over. If it's trouble though, I can just catch one of the abbeys or something." Quite the change from her obvious feeling for the importance of including the tower in her study from before. When she started up the drive, one would've thought she could never find anything more perfect.
"I have a cell phone. You can call me on that." You know.. that kind of takes all the mystique out of living in big castle doesn't it?
"I don't do phones." She says automatically, as though it's the most natural thing in the world, "Never had much use for them."
"Thanks though." Gwendolyn says, still unsettled for whatever reason as she adjusts her hold on her case, "Um. Thanks, though."
"Well whatever works for you." And that said, Lowe reaches into a hip pocket and produces a small card that has his number. It's quite plain, it just says "LOWE" and beneath it the phonetically pronunciation and beneath that a phone number. "If you do E-mail I can receive text messages on this thing." he reaches into his pocket then and produces aforementioned Cell Phone, "At least I think I can."
"Nope. No computer either." Gwendolyn says easily, though she does take the card. There's a little expression of amusement at the notation of pronunciation on the card there.
"So, thanks again." She looks up once more, lingering a moment as though she's still trying to figure out where to place you, "I'll send you a card if I'm going to be coming back out."
And with that, she turns to go back up the drive to her car again, deciding it seems not to continue with her painting for today.
Posted by rowan at November 15, 2003 03:55 PM
