Haunted House 2

Day Change

Day:
5

Events:
House members continue investigating the murder from two evenings ago.

Deaths:
NPC- woman dressed in period clothing found dead at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Appeared to have been pushed, yet there were signs of foul play

PLEASE READ! - http://hhmods.insanejournal.com/4671.html

Thank you.

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Who: Nancy and whoever crosses her path
Where: In the Den (yay for somewhere new)
When: Evening
Rating: Low I'm sure.
Status: Open

( Wraiths, Spectres, and Revenents: Summoning and Mastery of Spirits )

Who: Joe & OPEN.
Where: In the library.
When: Late evening, day four.
Rating: Low.
Status: Active

The day had been an “ordinary” one for Joe, he had met scarce others and most of the meetings hadn’t taught him much about the situation at hand; this house. He was happy to learn all of the other things from the various beings he spoke to, but after being here for four days, he was most interested in attempting to learn a little more about this mansion. This brought him to the library, for while Joe Black was a stranger to many things, he was aware of the knowledge the books held between their frail bindings. Certain that the information on this place in particular would be subtle if it existed, he simply browsed through the library, judging every book by its cover. Occasionally he would pull out volumes such as “Proper Letter Writing Etiquette” or “How to Prepare Your Home for Guests” and many other titles that were similar in context. Perhaps it would be wise to go to the supernatural books first, if they existed, but Joe figured if the answers were subtle then they might be in books as such as these.

He now sat at one of the tables in the library, browsing through the books, looking for any sort of information that might stand out against the rest. This act was strange for him, this searching, for he usually waited for answers to come to him; however, this seemed to be natural at the time and he embraced it. Hearing a noise at the door made him look up from his book to see who the intruder was.

Who: Katrina Crane (open)
Where: The Library
What: Katrina's looking for a journal for her husband.
When: Late Afternoon/Early Evening
Rating: TBD
Status: Active

When she first arrived in the house, Katrina feared the library. She had a feeling that she couldn't explain. Just the feeling of cold fear of that room.

Though now she was there inside, searching its shelves for a blank paged book for her husband. After the finding of the body, he had been consumed with piecing together the mystery. Pacing was his common practice now. She only wished to help him.

So now, Mrs. Crane would be on a ladder searching the shelves. Her back to the door as her fingers skim the binds of the books. Finding no blank ones, she sighs and begins to climb down the ladder slowly as to not trip over her dress.

Day Change

Day:
4

Events:
House members begin investigating the murder from the evening before.

Who: William Turner, Ichabod Crane and OPEN! (Tag everyone and anyone!)
When: Late night around 10 or so
Where: Den
Rating: R for mention of blood and death
Status: Incomplete

Dear William was sitting in the den with his nose deep in a book. He was frustrated that it seemed to him that he was the only one that was trying to figure out how the hell he and everyone else got here and more importantly how the hell to get out.

He groans and slams the book closed and throws it back to the rest of the pile. The cloud of dust floating up as he pinches the bridge of his nose. This electic light was wonderous for reading but it hurt his eyes. He found himself missing the sea more than Elizabeth. He didn't sleep at night since he was supposed to be shepparding the souls at this time, yet each book only spoke of the history of the house and the structure than he's more important questions.

He sighs and leans over to pick up the next book. He leans back and opens to start reading once more.

Who: Katie Harwood, Maureen Epps and Jack Ferriman!
When: Late night
Where: Library
Rating: TBD
Status: Incomplete

( here comes your ghost again. )

Who: Sweeney and Nellie
When: Evening
Where: The Conservatory
Rating: PG13 - R
Status: Ongoing

Who: The Hessian and OPEN (someone, anyone, echoecho...)
When: Night Time, of course.
Where: The KITCHEN.
Rating: High for Gore, I imagine. (BUT DON'T LET THAT SCARE YOU AWAY! That's just HIM, you know? XD)
Status: Incomplete I hope.

( Really, things could become quite...fun. )

Day Change

Day:
3

Events:
Things start to heat up between the members of the house

Who: Louis de Pointe du Lac, Ichabod Crane, Katrina Crane
Where: Hallway/Crane's bedroom
When: Day 2, Evening
Rating: PG-13 (for the blood, kids)
Status: COMPLETE

Louis keeps a firm hold on Ichabod as he takes him down the hall to his room. It would be a relief to get him to the bed. The smell of the blood was getting to the point where he could barely see, barely hear but the pounding of Ichabod's heart. Faster. Faster. The drum in his ear low, not loud like if he was drinking, but low in want.

He kicks open the door and walks the man inside and helps him into the bed. He quickly backs away and takes gasping breathes once Ichabod was on the bed. His hand going to his forehead. "I...I need... air..." he breathes stumbling back. "I...I'll be back..."

He runs out than to find a rat...a bird...ANYTHING! He needed blood and he needed it NOW!

Who: Claudia & Open
Where: Wandering around the house
When: Day 2, Evening
Rating: PG-13
Status: Incomplete

Claudia awoke to find the coffin devoid of Louis. That was most odd. She had thought he would wait for her to wake, seeing as they were in this hostile place. Most annoyed, the little vampire climbed out of the coffin, smoothing her dress. She would have to find more clothing later. Now, she was hungry.

She tried to recall everyone she had seen to decide who her pray for the evening was. The pirate captain was supposedly dead, and it wouldn't do for her to drink dead blood. The doctor was a bad choice as well, and the girl he had claimed as his. With a sigh, she padded out of the room and headed down the hall. Louis would know who she could feed from.

She wandered about the house, looking for her love...or perhaps an unsuspecting victim.

Scott's Wild Ride
Who: Scott Summers (Open)
Where: New York, New York/The Mansion
When: Evening
Rating: PG (in beginning)
Status: Alive and kicking

Scott Summers walked down the streets of New York, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket. All around him shoppers bustled, fighting for gifts for the holidays. Scott himself had his own bag full, he was done with his shopping and freezing his pants off. Right now returning to the mansion and having a steaming mug of hot cocoa sounded heavenly.

He was just about to get on the train out of town when a man he didn't know walked up to him.

"Scott Summers, you have a letter," said a voice behind him. Scott started slightly and turned, just in time to see a man stick an envelope in his hand. Scott blinked and took a backwards step, looking at the letter, then up and back down again rapidly.

"What? Do I-?" he stopped speaking as his gut suddenly felt like it twisted sharply. He doubled, caught off guard, grunting as the bag slipped from his hand, the contents crunching as they hit the train platform. He managed to look up, but before he could reach towards his glasses he'd fainted, out cold before he collapsed on the platform.

When he woke his head was aching, and he felt displaced and uncomfortable. He looked around as he slowly pushed himself up, feeling sore, and quickly realised that he didn't know where he was. He frowned deeply and slowly got up, finding himself in an eloquent but cold feeling hall. He blinked, then scowled and pushed himself to his feet.

"Logan? Hank?" he called, patting his pockets and finding the keys to his car, a wallet, and nothing else. -Jean?- he tried a different tactic, but frowned at the lack of a responce that he received. Then he glared. "Logan, if this is one of your stupid training excersizes...." He paused and shook his head slightly, trying to clear it. This didn't feel right. This... house, if that's what it was, felt creepy and lonesome, even if it was a hologram in the Danger Room. Scott kept himself on the alert as he made his way slowly down the wall, determined not to be caught off guard again.

Who: Sweeney Todd, anyone else.
Where: ???/The Garden
When: Evening
Rating: PG13 - R

Who: Bill Tedley
Where: The Mansion parlor.
When: Morning, 7 am.
Why: To get everyone's attention.

Willie wasn't around, in fact someone else was in his place. A rather stout and balding man with a tuxedo on, his shirt was tucked in but his coat was smoothed out and hung on his short and stubby frame. At first glance he looked like a butler, holding a tray and his dignity. The man spoke loudly. "Attention!" his voice bellowed, hoping to get anyone that was in the house or in their rooms, downstairs.

When people seemed to be poking their heads around or coming down the stairs, the man known as Bill leaned back on his heels and began to read a small paper. It looked like a miniature contract if you really stared at it.

"You were all brought here because...well I don't know." a smirk.

"But you all are here, and have obviously gotten a letter." he could see some looked angry or frightened. "If you try to harm, and or kill me, the house will protect me." still that same grin.

Who: Rayne (Open)
Where: A random alleyway//outside the House
When: Evening/night
Rating: R [to be on the safe side]

( Read more... )

Who: Vivian Gandillon & [Open]
Where: The Forest
When: After midnight
Rating: TBA

The fall tall grass provided apt bedding, and the crisp fractured remnants of an early autumn blanketed outstretched lying facedown beneath the shade of swollen oak. In her comatose state, she'd gone and changed. Reverting back to a more natural state from Wolf to woman. Her head lifts, pupils dilate against bluest-green iris, limp body springing to life, as she slowly roused to crawl across the forest floor.

The rocky soil below made the woman more acutely aware of the heaviness of her own body. Cut off from the constant drip of sleep and exhaustion permeating from every pore still lingering in her system, which had rendered muscles and consciousness incapacitated in suspended animation throughout a long night, weighted her down to earth. Buffered by the stale tawny tall grass of fall, the gnarled roots and craggy soil had been a challenge for the most heavy of sleepers, but somehow, Vivian had managed. Every muscular sinew languidly burned vivid agony. Crouched down, shivering as the wind lapped at her naked body, veins budged, pulsing for a few heartbeats as she hugged her knees tight to her chest.

Greedy waves of leaves lapped hungrily at pale flesh. While storm-battered body rests, disorientated mind’s daunting task had only begun. Disorientated, her sleep-addled spirit pawed through the thousands scattered and disjointed images flashing through a blank mind. As the etherized haze began to clear, a barrage of thoughts came steadily quicker, converging on one thought.

Bolting upright, The Ordeal! she gasped, but stabbed with a sudden streak of pain rather than modesty, Vivian had thought the better of it. "Oh," she groaned rubbing her temple looking for bloodstains or signs of a struggle. It was coming back to her now. What a night. After Astrid’s ambush of Vivian’s mother, Esmé, had initiated the bitch’s dance, Vivian had snapped, tore into, and rode that bitch like a rodeo bull, popping Astrid’s eye like an overripe grape; inadvertently winning the Ordeal and by the Old Ways established herself Queen Bitch and Gabriel’s rightful mate in the process.

Everything she had been avoiding since... the Moon knows when.

Unable to accept this, Aiden’s rejection and the two murders, she had ran off into the night, through the woods until the drumming of her heart matched the fierce four-stepped beat, until the night bled into the day and unable to take one more step, until down she came. Her mud-caked feet and fingers could testify to that much. Yet sweeping a wolfish tongue, the faint taste of vitreous fluid and blood christened her pert red lips, she smiled defiantly. Bitch got what she deserved.

As she dug through the earth, the searching for answers was on, particularly any answers in the form of any clothing she might have buried the night before except that acursed letter. But after a few moments, she slammed her hands against the earth in frustration. Dammit! Nothing remotely looked, smelt, or felt like home. Just as she began to brood on the thought a sound rode on the back of her ear, slipping over the pale shell, and inside like a grouchy hermit. Stubbornly, she ignored it at first, changing the direction of her dig, but as the noise grew more persistent, it cowing a reluctant glance in the direction of its birth.

But hearing the sharp crack of a branch, a telltale signs of life moving in the black forest surrounding her, snapped the blond from her reverie. Crouched down, peering out beyond her skewed flaxen tresses; scanning the night-covered woods and hoped that by putting the big bellied oak between herself and the noise would discourage any curious and hungry creatures from getting too close, least she ripped their cute, fuzzy, little heads off.

Who: Hannibal, Open
Where: The manor halls near the library
When: Evening
Rating: PG

Hannibal stepped through the doorway from the library, the door creaking closed behind him. Once more the darkness and must of the house wrapped itself around him like a wet blanket. Being in the library had been a breath of fresh air, the smell of old books always made him nostalgic for his childhood home. He had been doing his best to keep track of the time since he had administered Sarai's last dose of heroin, but time seemed to flow slower here. If his calculations were correct though she would be coming down off her high, which was not something he wanted happening without him nearby.

He closed his eyes thinking back to when he first met her, the smell that surrounded her, just like his sister. He breathed deep his nose searching out even the faintest trace of her odor. He began to walk following her scent his eyes still closed mapping the house in his mind.

He continued to walk this way for several minutes to suddenly the smell of the ocean assaulted his nostrils masking the smell of Sarai. He opened his eyes to find himself standing in an extremely dusty hallway, the walls were covered with all sorts of nautical paintings, bric-a-brac, and a very disturbing picture portraying a creature that was part man and what looked like part octopus. Hannibal reaches up and touches the painting of the man, it unlike the rest of the hall had no dust on it. "Very interesting, why do you love this painting so much?" he asks the empty hallway.