Realistic or Modern The Abyss Stares Back, A Cthulhu RPG (Investigation Ongoing)

[The Inkeeper]

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"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear. And the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."
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- H.P. Lovecraft
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The Abyss Stares Back Character Sign-Up


"The soft dim yellow light from your flashlight flickered as you travelled the halls of a manor unknown. The paint on the walls was chipped, the paper peeling, curling off in spirals revealing the rotting boards behind it. You continue down the long hall to find a solemn doorway, the smell of decaying flesh powerfully emanating from around the corner. You quietly grasp the doorway, before quickly reeling back to find dried blood on your fingers. You catch the sight of your breath, frosted smoke in the cold air of the hall. You began to hear scratching, like nails against wood, and you raised your six-shooter shakily. The fear of what lay in the darkness had shaken you more than ever before, a cold chill that touches the very bone of your soul, chilling you to the core. A shrill blood-curdling scream comes from the other side of the doorway, echoing down the hall. You quickly turn through the open door to reveal a misshapen malformed mass of limbs and teeth, tearing through the remnants of what could have once been a human being. You raise your gun, it shaking, rattling in your grasp. You aim, struggling to catch your breath, and squeeze the slender trigger. So meager, your weapon seemed against this monstrosity - able to drop a man with perhaps just one bullet, and it makes you believe you are that much smaller to your foe. How miniscule human society may be to what you faced in the darkness of this room, enlightened only by the dim flicker of your hand-light. Terror travels through your body, rocking your mind at what else could be lurking in the darkness, even behind you. The shadows dance around you as it seems time has come to a halt. It appears to take decades, eons even, to finally pull the trigger completely, having the hammer snap with a thunderous clap.


You wake up, in a cold sweat, to an empty bedroom. Your window lies open, the curtains softly blowing in the cool night breeze. The softer light of the moon's embrace filters through them and into your room. You sit in bed, half covered by the sweat-soiled blanket, and silently sob to yourself."

 

[The Inkeeper]

" October 8th, 1948


To Whom It May Concern,


      Your services have been requested in particular due to your specific set of skills. Gregory Manor has been a house of nobility since its establishment in 1872, but has recently found trouble with its tenants. Many residents have left, quickly and abruptly, and I would like you to investigate the circumstances that would cause such a slanderous reputation to this beloved estate. I have enclosed an advance payment of $1,500, which is yours if you are to take the case. Another $1,500 would be yours to receive if the investigation goes underway, in addition to any charges to be discussed. Any other fees or finances could also be arranged to be paid for, I assure you. I must warn you, this case is not to be taken lightly.

        The most recent residents, a Mr. & Mrs. Jennings, were found one week ago dead in their bed for reasons unknown. The three Jennings children have yet to be found, but the forest surrounding the estate has been thoroughly searched and no remnants of the young ones have been found. In the hope of keeping the situation from further demeaning the name of the Gregory Manor, it is appreciated if the investigation is handled as discreetly as possible. Transportation to the estate will be provided for you on the 15th of October, and has been arranged to pick you up at 10:00am sharp. Please prepare yourself for the investigation; meals and housing will be provided for you, and please provide your driver with proper identification before departing.

Sincerely,


Theodore H. Thompson - Gregory Estate Holder"


You tri-fold the letter back into its original size and place it on the lamp table next to your door. It was the 13th now, your transportation would be there in two days time, just enough time for you to even consider the case. You flipped the large manilla envelope over above to have the mentioned money fall onto the paper. With it fell a picture of a large house, what you could only assume was the Gregory Estate. It seemed very old from the picture, but extremely well kept for its age. Based on the currency, the Manor must have been located in the U.S.A. On the back of the photo, you find an address in the state of Virginia. The amount of money being offered was nothing to scoff at, the advance could buy you a brand new car to say the very least, but something seemed off. It almost appeared as if something was being hidden from you in the letter; easy to do in ink on paper. You examine the envelope again to look over an odd stamp that you noticed on the letter as well. The design of it was simple, three "Y"'s formed a triangle with their upper halves, and on the inside was a simple eye. As you looked at it, an eerie feeling came over you, and you quickly put it on the table before stepping away to contemplate taking the case. If so, Virginia was a long way from home, and you would be in for a long trip.


                                                                                     

@myvalentina ((Please tag the next person to post, in order of acceptance.))

 

[myvalentina]

He'd been in New York, his services having been lent out for a particularly hard case, when he received the letter. Even the FBI had been called in to for a serial defrauder, who had barricaded himself with some heavy firepower. But at the end of the day all these so called authorities needed muscle that wasn't necessarily on the payroll. He was on someone's payroll and that's all that mattered. 


Not very many people could have know he'd be here, let alone at what hotel, so wary he was even before he opened the damned thing. But it hadn't stopped him from accepting the strange ride on his last day in Chicago. Sending letters back to California to his boss, he just mentioned someone had asked for his services and he'd be back soon enough to the west coast. He'd never seen Virginia before, and well, the money seemed good too.


The driver woke him up as they arrived at the mansion. He'd slept through as much of the ride was he could, still grumbling that the car ride could have been a train ride to have shaved some time off the trip. Before he could even turn to pay the man some kind of tip, he'd sped off leaving him at the steps to a giant house. Never seen the like, he thought to himself, feeling a coldness he hadn't really prepared for. 


"Ain't nobody even gonna greet a man." He gruffed taking his bag over his shoulder.


@Tori_98

 

[NorthOfOrdinary]

Madeline had never been to the States before. Now she sat on the side of the road dressed like a pretty little reporter. Down the road a little further was the Gregory Manor which she hoped to reach via any of the poor souls responding to the letter. Fresh tracks told her someone else had already finished the route to the mansion.


She hadn't seen the piece of parchment herself but her contacts at Langley did and apparently it matched similar symbols found by the Nazis during their search for the Occult. The Soviets too, had found the symbol on ruins outside of Warsaw. She knew because she had just been there a week prior. It was her job to find what they were looking for before they did. 


Madeline's black heels tapped against the side of the car. She sat on the hood despite the steam pouring out of the radiator. A fake pout traced her cherry red lips, matching the nail polish on the thumb she held out hoping to get a ride. Her yellow blouse hugged her torso above a coal colored skirt that flowed loosely down to just above her knees and over the top a tan colored trench coat finished the look. The designer bag beside her held all she needed plus a Luger in case of an emergency. 


The look of a complete innocence was easy enough to manage, it was natural a few years prior and even now, it was honest. The German woman only did what she did to protect the country she loved and the one that had liberated it. As headlights approached, she only hoped they were that of a private investigator, empathetic to the needs of a lost story writer. A southern belle accent was enough to mimic. 


"Hello?? Excuse me, can you help?!"


Who didn't love a little free press? 


@Osthavula

 

[Osthavula]

"Finally. "


Carmen walked down the unreliable board set up so the passengers could all walk to the harbour. She felt like a pirate walking the board. It was strange enough to leave the place where she was born and raised, and even stranger to board a ship with someone else's ticket. Her connection gave that to her so she could leave London as soon as possible, leaving an empty office and probably disappointed cops. Now she set foot on a foreign land, completely confused, hair freely flew with the wind. She gave up wearing a hat after chasing two of them across the deck.


A man, who she did not recognized at firse, called out to her. It was quite easy to spot him with his new black suits and hat. She walked up to him instead of calling back, since in his line of work no one appreciate the calling of names in a crowded places. With smiles and nods, they walked away arm in arm, and boarded his car.


"Thank you Seth, you are doing me a big favour. " Carmen said, pull her hair away from her face. Seth from the driver seat looked back and gave her a smile, and handed her an envelop. The first thing she noticed was the stamp with a very peculiar symbol. The address said Virginia and from the touch of it, there was a photo inside.


"I found you a place, a dark corner in New york. You'd feel at home in no time. " Seth started the car, and drove away. He was smiling rather warmly. Seth was an old contact of Carmen, a client when she just started the whole private investigator business. He left a few years after that, and Carmen aided his escape. They kept contact, since Seth always appreciated the way she work: no extra questions, she'd figure everything out on her own and finish any request she accepted.


This time as well. Carmen understood that Seth helped her and asked her a favour in return. She quickly opened the letter, and laid everything on the leather seat beside her. New leather, and since the entire car stinked of leather she assumed that this wasn't even Seth car. The envelop revealed a letter and a photo of a large manor. The style of the written letter was one that she was familar with, one that left out many details. But even she frowned at the stamp. Something about that made her very uneasy.


But she appreciated the time given before another case so she could take a rest from this very long journey. She did not ponder too much about the letter. She didn't have the option of rejecting Seth's offer, she knew that much.


She put everything back in the envelop and looked out of the tinted window. She soon fell asleep leaning on the side, exhausted from her journey, and the nights when she wasn't able to rest. Horrible nightmares had been haunting her, and she supposed that was because of her being somewhere new. Still, the shadows and figures of the dreams were bizarre, even fascinating. The strange charm pulled Carmen into yet another nightmare, and she murmured words as Seth silently drove.


@DarkSlayer

 

[DarkSlayer]

I had to suppress another cry of joy as I re-read the letter for the umpteenth time since I received it two days prior. I actually had a case; more than that, I had a quite lucrative case! Almost nothing had been coming through the past month, and I could only watch as my wallet practically caught fire due to just food alone, not even mentioning the rent I had been putting off. I couldn't help but chuckle at the image of my landlady coming down to my office only to find it empty. 


"What's so funny, Jackie?" Asked the driver of the car I was currently lounging in the back of: Hank Harper, the only driver who accepted my pay late and one of my only good friends in this city...meaning I was one of the cabbie's only friends as well.


"The face of my landlady when she comes find an empty office." I replied, fixing my fedora. "By the way, thanks for offering to drive me all the way to Virginia."


Hank rolled his eyes in the review mirror before replying, "Oh, no problem. After all, how could I have refused a call from my good friend at three in the damn morning because he didn't want to wait an extra day?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm, but i only stood up straight and flashed my patented smile at him.


"Exactly, you couldn't have! And you want to know why?" I asked, leaning forward, to which he sighed, knwing what was going to come out of my mouth well before it did.


"Jericho will always make it worth your while." Hank sighed out, as if the words pained him.


"That's right!" I exclaimed, smiling a Cheshire grin. "And have you ever not been satisfied?"


"Keep talking Jericho, and I'll slam on the brakes." I sighed at his response before going back to lounging. We had already been on the road for around six hours by my count, and had another six or seven to go. It wasn't the most fun experience, and one could only sleep for so long before nightmares started to attack them and no one wanted that in the back of a cab. I sighed once again before staring out the window and thinking about what would come after the case. I would have enough money to carry on the search...


Mom...where are you?


@myvalentina

 

[myvalentina]

He pulled the suit jacket in closer, despite the oversized nature of the zoot suit it did nothing to hold off the cold. Why he'd thought otherwise would be anybody's guess, but he just gritted his teeth against a sharp wind. Dark clouds meant the weather would hold as gloomy and miserable for the for at least the night, and so he took the steps two by two still hoping someone was around to greet him. 


"Fancy letter! You'd think it'd have a fancy host to go with." He grumbled to himself, stopping at the sound of a faint rumble of an engine. Turning at the top of the stairs he looked back down the road expecting to see another car but there was nothing, and yet the rumbling remained. Maybe it was getting louder, suddenly it was hard to tell, as Nacho looked around not seeing anything that could be the cause of it.


Whatever was approaching was becoming clearer and while he now sure it wasn't a car, it was something he recognized. Something he'd heard in a dream, as stupid as that was. He felt the hum in his feet and he dropped his bag as he got down on his knees. He placed his hands against the freezing stone, confirming that there was a slight vibration, but it was more than just that. Nacho dropped his head and placed his ear to the ground.


If he could just make it out...


Snapping his head up now he was sure he could hear a car. There were actually a couple of cars coming down the winding dirt road. He looked back at the ground and suddenly it all felt exceedingly stupid.


@Tori_98

 

[NorthOfOrdinary]

The first car that stopped was not a private investigator, as Madeline had hoped, but it was a ride nonetheless from somebody who lived further down the road. She bade the man farewell and slammed the door. The car soon disappeared. Another man stood watching from the house. 


*Snap* 


Madeline took his picture with the camera in her hand. The flash illuminated the landscape. 


"Good day sir! I'm Kate Marks with the Richmond Register! Are you an investigator?!!" 


Madeline wasted no time in closing the distance between them, snapping another picture on her way. More cars were pulling in the driveway and she turned around to snap pics of them as well. It was freezing cold out, but she had spent plenty of winters without enough firewood. This was nothing as she played her eccentric role. The Hispanic man was short, but stocky, she made a mental note as she bombarded him with questions.


"What can you tell me about the house?"


"Can you explain what happened to the previous occupants?"


"Where are Mr. and Mrs. Jennings' children?"


*Flash*


She took another picture of the house. Madeline couldn't help but notice how creepy it's silhouette was against the surrounding forest. If enemies had been hiding something from the United States within the United States, this place would be the perfect spot.


*Flash*


"Why di-"


Madeline found herself at a loss of words. 


@Osthavula

 

[Osthavula]

The door creaked and needed some push to open. Carmen was shown into a room where there was a coat rack, an old sofa, a wooden coffee table, a big metal organizer for files, and a rubbish bin. One door was on the opposite side of the room, opened to show a bed and a wardrobe. Another door on the wall on her left side had a hand written paper sticked to it labelled "washroom". On the right there was just a door frame, and you could see stove, a fridge and a kettle.


"Splendid. " Carmen smiled to Seth, briefly held his hand and let go. "This feels like home. "


He again chuckled, and walked into the room, gestured as if showing her the room. But there wasn't much to show, you could really see everything from the main door. They make themselves comfortable on the sofa with some tea, and started telling each other what they have been up to.  Didn't take long until they talked like all the time hadn't passed. They talked about cases, talked about people they met, talked about the jokes they used to have.


"...and that fool had the guts to threatened me again, and send a note with words written like a grade school kid, completely ignorant of my identity." He light up the second cigarette, joyfully took one smoke and blew it into the air. He was obviously enjoying himself. "Guess what I did?"


"Well, you wouldn't just take his life, you're too classy." Carmen laughed as he pretended to take off his invisible hat. "Well, a bit of framing?"


"Close, Carmen. I sent a girl his way so when he attempted to scam her, her police father wasn't happy with him. " He showed his palm in indicated he kept his hands clean. "Now, throw me one of yours. Whatever clever thing you did. "


They kept talking, and talking, until the sky went dim. The tea was cold by now and how it seemed like the talk would never end. Seth abruptly got up and bid her goodbye. She smiled. She knew how he looked deep into her eyes and how their hands were placed close to each other, and how he pulled himself from the conversation and left with an excuse. Typical of him.


If anyone asks, they weren't lovers. They had mutual feelings many many years ago, perhaps. Carmen knew that the more she cherish something, the more she need to keep it distanced. Seth of course never said anything, but people in his line of work would never want to show care for anyone. She looked at the closed main door, grinning and savouring the happy memories, and then, slowly, she sighed and tried to put it behind her head. She didn't want anything to happen anyways. She took a hot shower, and slept on the new bed with white bed sheets.


Odd thing is, now that she was on the bed, she was only thinking of the symbol on the letter. What is the significance of it? What could she make of it? She ponder it until the dream took over her thoughts.


@DarkSlayer

 

[DarkSlayer]

Suppressing the urge to leap out of the still-moving and acquaint my lips with the ground, I fixed Hank one last smile before he rolled his eyes, as well as the window. I didn't know whether to be distraught at the loss of my trusty cabbie or happy as he would be leaving now and not after the case, when I would get paid. Speaking of which...I turned around to face the manner that I would be conducting an investigation on...as well as one young blonde practically attacking a middle-aged man with questions and a flashing camera...well then.


"Hey doll," I called to her, adjusting the fedora on my head as I walked up. "I think the poor guy's had enough, don't yah think?" I asked, smiling as i took note of the both of them. With the way she was flashing that camera and firing off questions as rapidly as she did, I immediately placed her as a reporter, before amending that due to the fact that this case was being handled rather quietly. It occurred to me then that she may just as well be another investigator involved in this. Whatever she was, she was more than meets the eye, and I wasn't buying that she was a southern belle either.


Keeping the friendly grin on my face, I turned my head to glance at the other one here: Hispanic male, short, stocky, well-built...definitely used to a couple scraps. I brought my gaze back to the young woman, as lingering any longer would have been suspicious.


@The Inkeeper

 

[The Inkeeper]

The wind began to whip around the investigators, a nip in the air chilling their exposed skin and softly tousling their hair. It was strangely dark for the time of day being just before noon, and perhaps a storm would be approaching the private manor before soon, but little clouds littered the sky. The investigators respective transportation began to depart one by one down the long gravel driveway. The large manor loomed in the distance past the large stone staircase leading to the front entrance, creating quite the ominous aura to the estate still shrouded in mystery.


Nacho, Repossessor Agent
You find yourself catching a chill down your neck unusual to the cool breeze. The onset of paranoia begins to slowly sink its claws into the edges of your mind, giving you the impression that you may be being watched from somewhere in secret. The house, most likely, but perhaps even the ever distant tree line surrounding the Estate you stand before. A solid reasoning mental force leads you to believe that if you are being spied on, it may be the man who has sent for you to help - the one from the letter - and that he may have been awaiting the arrival of any people he may have called upon.


Sanity: 98


Any investigator present at the estate and is classified as observant or perceptive may acknowledge, if they care to take the time to investigate, a figure can be seen in an upper window of the Gregory Manor for a short period of time before disappearing behind closed curtains.


@myvalentina


((Though Sanity levels dropping does have its disadvantages, it will come in handy in some scenarios later on in this game. I would just like to inform players that when events happen that decrease your sanity, it isn't necessarily a negative event.))


((Sorry, again, for taking so long to continue this game.))

 

[myvalentina]

He growled as an answer to anyone of the incessent questions and camera clicks, so he reached around uselessly to try and stop the the woman. If Nacho had landed any one of his graceless swings he could have easily crushed the softer bits of the camera and tossed the rest of it to the ground. He didn't even acknowledge the other man now on the landing with them and even less when the shiver ran down his back. 


He stopped his aggressiveness towards Madeline, eyes wide as he tried to pinpoint what he was feeling. Sweeping his gaze once to the right and again to the left, he began to breath a little harder as he stops to look at the large mansion. Now he's sure of it. Of what? Of IT! What does it matter what IT is but that IT is around and... and watching him. And the sounds he thought he'd heard before, now he's more sure they're real. Whatever implication that might hold, he's not one to dwell on things before acting. He readjusts his bully bags over his shoulder with a huff.


"If there ain't gonna be a welcome wagon than welcome, bienvenidos, bon-jar and howdy-doodie, let's get moving." He tells the group. He would have taken off by himself, but if someone something is zeroing in on him he'd rather have someone to throw in his path to slow his pursuer down, so he invites the group to walk with him. 


@The Inkeeper


@Tori_98


(I wasn't sure who to tag next, just tagged ya both)

 

[NorthOfOrdinary]

The Hispanic male growled, or groaned, or something or another that didn't qualify to her as any sort of an answer. Her attention was already moving on.


"Hey doll, I think the poor guy's had enough, don't yah think?"


"Perhaps," Madeline bit her lip and batted her eyelashes, letting a soft smirk escape. "You jealous?" 


*Flash*


She took a picture of what she hoped might become her new point of entry into this mystery. Unaware, that in the mansion behind her, a figure momentarily eclipsed one of the upstairs windows. Strolling over to the fedora clad individual, she gently placed herself beside him, and softly rested her chin on his shoulder.


"Any words for the paper sir?"


@Osthavula

 

[Osthavula]

After a few day of good rest, Carmen got in the black car driving all the way to the destination. The driver who Seth sent had a medical mask on, but never coughed, and never made a sound. It was an awfully quiet drive, but as usual, Carmen expected that from anyone remotely close to Seth, that they would never want to give out unnessasary information. The car felt like they put in sound insulation, that when she open her door, it was then she heard and saw three people heading in the mansion. Her intuition told her that they might be here for the same mission, so she nodded to the driver and hopped outside, closing the car door behind her.


She first walked cautiously behind them, and when she saw that they just met each other as well, she walked closer. Completely missing what happened before, she looked to the silhouette of the mansion, and made a mental note of how creepy it looked. Old manor, she thought, and the grounds weren't well kept, weeds overgrown and the trees were left freely branched until they looked like wrinkled old men with Catatonic Schizophrenia. In front of them she could see a large stone staircase leading up the manor, old fashioned and again, didn't look well kept with leaves piling high on some of the steps.


Her gaze moved on to the three people. The tanned man leading the group was of strong built, and had a hint of confident of his own strength. A blonde lady was holding a camera, and shifted close to the man with the fedora. The man with the fedora had something about him that Carmen felt oddly familar with. Was he a criminal? Or investigator? It was hard to tell, both fields share surprisingly a lot in common.


She completely missed the chance to introduce herself. The brunette brushed her hair behind her shoulder, so it wouldn't block her sight with the wind blowing on her.


@DarkSlayer

 

[DarkSlayer]

I blinked at the camera flash before the blonde lay her chin on my shoulder. Regarding her for a moment before feeling someone's eyes on me, I scanned the Windows of the manor, eyes narrowing at the figure on the second floor.


Turning my attention back to the girl, I placed a hand on her cheek, "Not for the paper, but for you, doll." I said, leaning close and flashing her a charming smile, "Keep the camera on a lower setting, and stay behind me and the big guy." I smiled, lightly pushing her cheek aside and moving away from her, closer to the manor. I really hated the press, and with the way she acted, there was something else about her...


In any case, it would do me good not to fall for such a pretty face. 


Turning my head, I caught sight of yet another woman walking up the drive way, though this one carried herself in a familiar manner. It was the same manner that I found when I looked in the mirror. She was either a PI or a criminal. I found myself hoping for the former.


"Hey Doll, running late to the party?" I asked her, friendly grin easily spreading across my features as I studied her.


@The Inkeeper

 

[The Inkeeper]

The towering brown front doors of the manor began to open as a shadow of a man slithered into view of the investigators, and began his descent down the large stone staircase. Though he man was quite thin and almost ghostly pale though he looked young. Alas, he strode down the stairs fluidly, almost gliding over the stone steps as he approached group. They now saw the dark suit the man wore was clean and pressed, and though it was worn slightly with age it kept a dark color fitting to a high-standing manor. He seemed to be no older than fourty, though his eyes were sunken and his skin seemed thin and stretched smooth over his skull.

"Hello, everyone." the man rasped, " I am William Hitch, the estate's caretaker.. We are modestly pleased with the acceptance of Master Thompson's invitation."
He took a moment to take a deep, rattling breath, "If you would kindly follow me, I will show you to the guest rooms - where you can attend to any luggage you may have brought, and we will send for you when dinner has been prepared."

Any investigator present at the estate and is classified as observant or perceptive may acknowledge, if they care to take the time to investigate, the bustle of workers within the house can be heard, but no others are seen among the halls.

He began his ascent of the entrance, and wisped through the intimidating doors. Through the large doors, the group of investigators crowd into the lobby, a large fine marble rotunda with a classic rounding Grand Staircase facing them. Hitch continued his venture, ascending the staircase now before them. The crowd followed suit, taking in the surrounding marblework, and talking among themselves. The caretaker lead the group into the hallway immediately following the staircase, and the passing doors began to blend as the group was led by Hitch through the halls and they talked among themselves.

NorthOfOrdinary

 

[NorthOfOrdinary]

Madeline blushed and stepped back with a courteous, "Yes sir," as the man offered his advice and brushed her aside. She took the next few minutes to lower the flash on her camera and snap a picture of the woman walking up the drive.

*Flash*

Letting the camera hang from the strap around her neck, Madeline began transposing everything that was said by anyone into a little notebook. This included the introduction of the estate's caretaker, William Hitch.

As pale and as gaunt as he was for a middle-aged man, she immediately inferred that either he was a heavy junkie...or under alot of stress. His solemn facial features reminded her of the war. A vivid image of the fuehrer's camps in her home country flashed through her mind, she had never known as much hate as she did back then when the American soldiers forced her to see. People could be monsters and she'd stop at nothing to save others from them, which is why she was such an easy recruit for the CIA.

Taking photographs of everything in the house as they walked, she stuck close to the man who had told her to tone it down, if only because acting like a lost, little puppy was one of the easier ways to lower suspicion in a group. Madeline placed a hand delicately on his shoulder. "Look, I'm really, really sorry if I annoyed ya'all back there, I'm just super excited. It's not every day a female journalist finds a letter about things like this just laying on the ground. My boss almost didn't let me go."

"If it makes you feel better," She offered to the shorter, stouter, Hispanic Male. "I'll try to ask fewer questions." She sneered a little with an innocent laugh, as she addressed everyone. "Just one more though, as stated for the record I am Kate Marks of the Richmond Register, and what might be all of your names?"

Osthavula

 

[Osthavula]

She didn't offer the man any more than a smile before the caretaker had interrupted them. Taking in all of his features and details in her eyes, she continued to be wordless and silent until being spoken to yet again. The house was definitely built for luxury, evident by the grand structures and the elaborate use of marble in the lobby. Hallways too long and doors more numerous than the inhabitants would ever need. What's more, the atmosphere was almost... Ghostly. The sound of inhabitants --- Carmen would think belonged to the servants or workers --- echoed louder than what they could see. Being usually observant, she didn't think she even caught a single shadow. The hallways continued to feel chilling and isolated from the world. That is, saved for the people walking around her.

But the companions didn't offer her much comfort either. She felt she could offer them only disappointment and suspicion from the way she talked. Who could blame them, really?

"Carmen. " She responded to the blonde, purposely leaving out her last name. Her accent was also evident, not exactly textbook or documentary style of London accent, but a little colour of street influences here and there. Compare to her energetic voice hers was a whisper. "Private investigator. "

That was where she stopped, bright eyes move from one to the other, waited for the others to speak.

DarkSlayer

 

[DarkSlayer]

'Well...that's inviting.' I thought sardonically with a smirk, adjusting my fedora so it lay on a tilt, removing a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and popping it, one of the cancer sticks sticking out. Taking it between my lips and replacing it in his pocket, I moved my hand into my pocket for my rather bulky lighter, finger deftly along it, a flame striking. Lighting the tobacco, I shoved the lighter back in my suit jacket, taking a deep pull on the cigarette, Releasing the smoke into the air, I measured the front door, entering.

Looking about myself, and most certainly noting the almost dead look our caretaker kept about him, I exhaled deeply, wondering briefly if this was the sort of man Stoker imagined for his harrowing novel before shaking my head. I'd rather not be the one sipped like a martini, thank you kindly. Biting on the filter of the cigarette, my eyes kept moving over every single hallway and door yet to no avail. I could hear some sort of staff, a lot of them it sounded like, and yet there was no one besides us. I didn't have long to ponder this before the blonde dame rested a hand on my shoulder. Turning my head with a small smile, I raised an eyebrow at her apology and shook my head gently, moving my other arm to rest my hand on hers, looking her in the eyes.

"You don't need to apologize to me, Dollface, I just don't much care for shining lights in my eyes. You're fine, in more ways than one." I finished with a characteristic wink. Presuming I didn't get slapped in the face for that comment, I moved away from the reporter and kept my eyes forward once more. I really hated the press, and she was up to something, I was sure of it...however, maybe it would prove beneficial to play along? Keeping that thought in mind, I left the two dolls to themselves and spoke to the man leading them up the ascent of stairs and through the hallway.

"Excuse me sir, but when can we meet with our host?"

The Inkeeper

 

[myvalentina]

Ignacio was chilled down, nearly to the bone, and just grateful to be getting inside. He'd swipe a thicker coat from his compatriots-- though looking at the one man in the bunch he'd be hard pressed to fit his giant shoulders into even half of one of his jackets. He made a dismissal sound and looked to the caretaker, noting only the same thing he had with Jack and not much else. "Thompson ain't got any muscle around this place?" He mused, looking around to see if any servants or grounds keepers were around. At least the more common men he'd maybe have more to say to (besides stealing bulkier clothes from them) since he was feeling out of sorts in this group.

It didn't help that besides the chill from the cold the faint webs of paranoia still clung to him like sand would on a man standing at the shore of a turbulent seas. Made him adjust and readjust the bags on his shoulder, made him fidget with his sausage finger hands, and pay no attention to anything the other's were saying. The mansion was oppressive to say the least, and anybody could be watching from anyplace. He'd seen it with his own eyes the way smart, rich people built peeping rooms with holes into paintings and... and all sorts of crazy shit. So far from home and with little to no help-- he eyed his companions warily-- he'd have to look after himself against the probable cuckoo who'd sent for him.

Nacho caught sight of bedrooms as they walked by an open door and he snapped back to the caretaker. "Finally some good news. Just don't tell me I gotta share a room with this geek." He snorts a laugh and points at Jack with a haphazardly rolled cigarette in his fat hand, before asking to bum a light from the group.

The Inkeeper

 

[The Inkeeper]

Our investigators arrived at a group of non-specific brown doors, Hitch addressing them while lighting the larger Mexican's cigarette. "These are your bedrooms, of course we have enough to accommodate each of you" Hitch moaned, "You will be sent for when dinner is prepared, where you may finally meet your gracious host. We ask, simply, a few things of you:

Please do not bother the Manor's employees if you see any. They have much to attend to, but will do their best to avoid being seen by guests.

Please, do your best to stay within your rooms after dinnertime, as Gregory Estate holds most of its electricity in it's kitchens, and one who is not familiar with it may easily get...confused."

With this observation, any investigator who decides to do will now realize that the halls they have travelled do in fact all have candles and sconces along their walls - possibly another reason the estate has so much marble, beyond its beauty of course.

Hitch's sunken eyes open a little wider, possibly staring past the group, and he pauses with a sigh before continuing, "Any questions can be directed to Mr. Thompson or Myself. Though, as a personal favor, I ask that all official business be held for Master Thompson. Unfortunately, I don't believe I could be of much help..finding...the....young ones."

The caretaker seems to linger on his last words, perhaps getting lost in his own thoughts. After a short moment, he jumps into action opening the doors the group stood in front of, revealing 4 identical bedrooms. Furnished with a desk, a bureau, a bookshelf, a painting, and a bed each. They are easily identified as lavish accommodations, each even equipped with a small liquor cabinet.

Hitch stands aside to allow the group to bring their belongings in their respective rooms. Again, he begins to recede from the world as he gazes past the group - consumed by his own thoughts.

myvalentina

 

[myvalentina]

"Gracias." Nacho responds taking a deep puff of the cigarette, and listening intently to any orders Hitch was doling out. With everything they were being afforded for the job, the rules didn't seem bothersome to him, cause he'd heard worse from less accommodating hosts. Though it would nix any bumming of an extra coat for his delicate West Coast sensibility. He'd make do. The mention of young ones did give him pause, since it was the one bit of extra info that they'd been given since getting here. Nacho had been about to ask Hitch to elaborate when the man opened the doors to their rooms.

"Wam bam thank you, sir!" Nacho exclaimed about the impressive rooms before bounding into the nearest one like a child. "Oh baby, this is better lodging than what I'm used to, I'll tell ya that. " He said, talking mostly to himself as he tossed his things to one side and went straight for the liquor. Nacho is usually all big steps and meaty hands, and even so he was much nimbler when pouring a drink than what would be expected. Afterwards he took his drink back into the hallway so as to further bother anyone rejoining Hitch there.

NorthOfOrdinary

 

[NorthOfOrdinary]

"Thank you," Madeline replied coyly, a slight blush lighting up her face at Mr. Fedora's flirtations. "I mean...um...You're pretty fine yourself mister."

She let him move away from her, suddenly playing shy as if his words had stolen her heart. She'd played this game many times before, and she knew the best way to win was to lose. If he made any advances she'd follow along, giving off the illusion that she was swept off her feet. Of course, the real professional trick came in not appearing eager or easy.

"It's nice to meet you Carmen," She sprung up a conversation with the other woman who was in the group as the rooms were shown, and the rules explained. Furiously writing notes on all that was said by anyone, she kept her eyes moving from the paper to her new acquaintance. "How did you get into private investugation?"

The accommodations were nice, even if they were a little antiquated, and she tried to feign surprise as she entered the one next to Nacho's. She ran her fingers along the wall, feeling for dust, and inspected every inch of the room for anything out of the ordinary underneath the guise of youthful curiosity. Of course, the bath she stopped to truly admire as well as the liquor cabinet. Strolling back into the hallway, she snapped a picture of all four rooms. "You know, this place isn't half bad."

Osthavula

 

[Osthavula]

With the question and the noise of her pen upon the notebook, Carmen gave Madeline a look. Was it harsh? It was nothing harsh, but perhaps a little stern, and a little uneasy. If Carmen say anything, true or not, it will be quickly recorded on that notebook of hers. That was the concept, right? The private investigator looked at the instrument this "journalist" looking woman use, and back to the blonde hair that waved on her, and even gave a slight glance at the other two men and the person leading them.

This woman possibly was aware that her method was nothing welcoming.

"Look, miss. " Carmen said to her, quietly and closely, in an attempt to not speaking it to the others. Unfortunately, the corridor was quiet enough that it could be heard still. "I am not too comfortable with your notebook. Another time, perhaps. "

Another time. When she would decide if she was worthy of even an ambiguous answer.

They were eventually led to the room. Carmen took a light glance at the room, or the part where she could see through the door frame. The inspection could wait. Instead, she walked towards Hitch, now speaking in a voice that all of them could hear --- provided they didn't yell over it. "What do you know about the young uns? You must have known them before they went ... Missing. "

Whether it was a competition or not, they could all use the snippets. Plus, she was getting a bit more uneasy every second she spent in the house. The repetitive sconces and the hallway reminded her of something. A nightmare, perhaps.

DarkSlayer