[Mica]

Mandatory warning: Contents of this thread may contain gore, language and such.

There was an apparent frown on his face while he read the torn down brochure in the squeaky and seemingly fragile car. It read as followed: “Old Victorian housing for sale! Cheap and affordable, will be worth your while.” He felt more of an irritation now since his common sense told him that it was a ridiculous scam to draw people in the desolate and dreary-ridden place. It worked for the most part; his oldest sister was convinced that it was a perfect idea. Because she was funding him; much to his unfortunate situation, he had to comply with her wishes. It was not too bad; at least those were his thoughts before he arrived.

He tore his attention from the brochure and tired to read the dinky sign that said something but he could not make it out. It looked worn and torn much like haunted sites in the movies. As the minutes rolled by, there was finally some sort of structure in the far distance. The broken roads made his ride bumpy, along with the added noise and rickety sound of metal plates squeaking painfully due to the old age of the car.

From the hill they were descending, he saw a particularly good view of the place. The buildings were tall and a little foreboding, the pavements were padded with cobblestone and the streets were lined with candled lampposts. The design was as he had read in the brochure, Victorian, elegant and rich. At least it would have looked somewhat glorified had the roads not looked faded and aged or the lamp posts rusted and chipped. The buildings had signs of quick repairs in several parts; roof, walls, doors, frames and windows.

The sheer lack of life made him feel taken back and the idea to all this was so surreal and confusing. The taxi drove him past the town square where life should have been apparent. The locals were scarce but not enough to really question the small amount. There were people and they paid him no mind at all. The air was thick and cold, a bit too humid for his liking but he would have to deal with it.

They drove past the town and deeper into the pale road that eventually led into a large estate. The plantation around it was merely clinging to life as their vines spread around the large manor in front of him. In front of the large home was a woman with grayed hair pulled back in a strict bun. Her garments consisted of a decent dress with browns and blacks as colors; much like the entire place had looked like.

The taxi stopped and the old man motioned for him to step out and explore his new home; courtesy of his lovely sister of course. He forced a smile to the elderly keeper and bowed.

“Mr. Mortis, welcome to Acle. I hope our humble town will provide to you the pleasure and privacy you so require. This is the Laceington Manor, now in your hands. Your sister has instructed me to give you a short tour and the things she would like you to do. I am Mrs. Luyens, your house keeper at the moment.”

He looked over at the estate before deciding to reply to her, thinking it was typical for his sister to be ready for his arrival. The distaste in his face was not noticeable, but allowed himself an exasperated sigh before accepting the invitation. “Of course, it will be a pleasure to have you guide me.”

--

Hello and Welcome to my Role play. If you are interested, please check this thread out and read the first post for the type of people I am looking for. Thread Also, please be noted that the ToS of Trisphee must be followed. Common sense for the rest of the rules.

It is an OC/Request thread so feel free to post if you have any questions or if you need further details. Anyone is invited to join, so feel free to post along. The setting is in the opening- and also sort of introducing my character but I did try to make the main point the introductions and such. You are required to read it- it is your whole setting and reference.

Note that this is indeed set in modern times; something the town has not caught up to. It is set in a make-believe plot of land in England. It is essentially a ‘horror’ genre based RP, but there is no real plot except the ones that the RPers will create as time passes by. Please note that you are required to post in the Thread before you are accepted. That is all.

Now, I once again welcome you. ;)

[Mica]

Reserved.

[Mica]

Reserved.

[Vox]

Travis shouldered his backpack and left the train station. The next train wasn't arriving for at least four hours, and no way was the 22-year-old American going to sit around the empty station, wasting time and one of the few dry-weather days he had left in England.

He walked for an hour through silent woods interspersed with high hedges that probably hid stately homes, or at least family homes, judging by the pink tricycle he saw wedged into one bush. He thought it was weird that there didn't seem to be a town - a station in the middle of nowhere? Hedged housing divisions floating around without any roads to shopping centers? He was used to towns being defined areas connected by paved roads, but maybe they did things different here. Or maybe there was a city just beyond a hedge and he'd missed it.


Over a gentle ridge, he spotted a rambling Victorian mansion. It would have been hidden, if the trees hadn't been winter-bare. He decided to check it out. Maybe closer to London it would have become a hotel or museum: here, it looked like a prison or insane asylum. As he got closer, he realized that was partly due to how decrepit it was, and partly to the ironwork all over, especially the bars on the upper windows. Not exactly a welcoming place.

A flutter of movement caught his eye and he noticed a figure at a tower window with its mouth open, waving a white cloth. A few moments later it had disappeared, and Travis figured it was someone cleaning the window...by banging on it, but whatever.

He decided he'd seen enough and was about to head back to the station, when the figure appeared again, definitely banging on the glass. The cloth was stained with red and so was the open mouth. He cursed and ran around the corner, wishing he had a cell phone.

A back door stood conveniently ajar and he ran inside, then stood, bewildered by stairwells and hallways on every side. Which way to the tower? He shouted, "Hey! Is everything all right?"


((You can decide whether this is before, during or after your character's introduction to the housekeeper.))

[Mica]

Gregory Mortis was now looking over at his new ‘home’ which seemed decent enough, not exactly to the standards he is accustomed to but he never was one to complain out loud. Mrs. Luyens had ordered the only male hired help to bring his luggage to the master bedroom. Everything was going normally, as normal as the Laceington manor allowed at least.

Despite the meager amount of workers, Mrs Luyens made the best out of them despite seemingly strict nature. It was not just completely for show, either, he noted that she walked with grace as if it was embedded into her mind. After they introduced themselves and got his things settled into the manor, the only thing left was for him to explore.

He took a slow ascend in the curved staircase, trying to make sense of the odd interior. Grim were his first thoughts of it, while the name of the manor sounded rather grand, the real thing left much to be desired. Sometimes it was mixed with different colored woods, glass and the marbled floor sometimes had odd squares of something that didn’t appear like marble at all.

Deep in thought, Gregory almost missed the sound of Mrs. Luyens raising her voice. It had not been an hour and he was afraid of what angered her enough to sound so hysterical. Quickly, he ran back in, followed the voices with the help of Rimes, the nineteen year old boy who did most of the heavy work.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? Do you realize this is trespassing?!” Her eyes were piercing, angry and she appeared almost scandalized. The unfortunate soul who had her full attention was a male who looked entirely out of place. He wore very different clothes, looked different and he was curious to say the least.

“What might be the trouble, Mrs. Luyens?” He politely questioned her before she did something insane. Somehow he wouldn’t put it past her.

“This man simply barged in the maid’s quarters while Carmina had foolishly left the door open!”

“Now, surely we can come to an agreement here…” Gregory began, realizing how such a long day this had begun to unfold.

[Vox]

Travis eyed the old lady. She looked about ready to stab him, and he held up his hands to show there was nothing in them, to placate her, all the while keeping the exits in view in case he needed to flee. He was aware that in his flannel shirt, thick fleece-lined denim jacket and heavy hiking boots that he probably appeared to be either homeless or a laborer, and the day's growth of blond stubble didn't help. If the balaclava on his head had been rolled down, that would have finished him.

"Easy there, lady. I didn't mean to trespass. Like I've been telling you, I saw someone calling for help from an upstairs window. It looked like they were in trouble."

He glanced at the two men who had rushed in. One was a big kid, a little younger than himself, with a similar farmer's build, but a dull expression. The other might possibly be the lord of the manor, being in nicer clothes and with more going on upstairs than Farmer Boy. Instead of being alarmed or angry, the lord said,

"Surely we can come to an agreement here..." and looked more resigned than anything else. Travis had half expected him to say, "Oh, I say, old girl, what's the row?"

Dismissing such prejudiced thoughts from his head, he addressed the lord, "It looks like someone is in trouble upstairs. Can we please go make sure everything's ok?" He looked at him in appeal.

[Lore]

"It looks like someone is in trouble upstairs. Can we please go make sure everything's ok?"

"There is no need to panic," reassured a gentle female voice as a young girl walked into the crowded room, her garb reflecting that of traditional maid's attire.

"Ah," Mrs. Luyens turned towards the young lady and smiled. "It is good to see you, Julia. Have you finished your duties thus far?"

Julia bowed her head slightly with her hands folded in front of her, her long raven hair tied in a neat ponytail that cascaded down her back. "All is how you wish, Mrs. Luyens." Facing Travis, she offered him an explanation, "You need not worry, sir, for no one has lived in that tower for an extremely long time. I have dreamed of cleaning it, too, but alas the key has been lost to history..." She shook her head with a faint blush briefly painting her cheeks as she inwardly thought of how wondrous it would be to clean such an ancient chamber.

Mrs. Luyens suddenly glared at Travis as if remembering the whole situation moments ago, and was just about to bark more obscenities when Julia interjected. "Mrs. Luyens, I am sure this gentleman did not mean any harm, and does not intend to create a disturbance. Could we not allow him to stay, and treat him with the same hospitality we will extend to Master Gregory? That is, if the new master approves."

[Mica]

New master? Gregory echoed in his mind, trying to wrap it around his head. It was rather funny to see Mrs. Luyens’ face seemed to grow red in exasperation and so he agreed. He had not noticed the small lady who spoke earlier, the maid called Julia but he was indeed thankful for the way she handled her mistress. It saved him the trouble to have deal with her, as short tempered ladies tend to be more troublesome than they were worth.

“Of course, I cannot see a reason to disapprove. After all, you look rather tired and it is doubtful we will have a trouble of providing you a room.” He gave the man a small smile. Although he had not felt it before, he was feeling rather drained today. The long hours of travel made his body ache in cramps and loose ends he had to tie up. It was amazing how his black suit and dress pants looked fresh out of the closet, though his short messy hair and tired blue eyes was the only evidence of his long travel. Still, part of it was his curiosity to the stranger, whatever would bring a person to the middle of nowhere was somewhat a curious thing. And maybe deep down, he would not feel so alone being the only outsider in the town.

Mrs. Luyens cleared her throat, giving him a wary glance. “Very well, you are after all the new Lord to this manor and so we will allow this… ah, gentleman to stay.” Her distaste was painfully obvious, though it didn’t matter all that much. He didn't like her very much anyway.

[Vox]

The American didn't know where to start. It was clear no one was alarmed about whatever was upstairs. Either they were all unbelievably good actors, or they genuinely believed nothing was happening. He still wanted to rush up to the tower, but insiduous thoughts came. You did your best. You delivered a warning and now it's on their heads. It's not your business. You're just traveling through. Besides, maybe it was a reflection from the trees.

But there were no trees high enough to reflect into that window, he insisted in his head.

Clouds, then. Or maybe the maid is lying and she was up there, cleaning. You imagined everything else.

Hardly, he retorted. As an industrial design student, he was trained to be observant. All artists were. It was their job to observe, design, interpret.

And what was going on here? They really did think he was homeless, offering him a place to stay. It was ridiculous. This was civilized England, not the mountains of Afghanistan. Two hundred years ago, it would have made sense to shelter a traveler, but now the roads were bandit-free, and reliable trains and taxis were everywhere.

He was about to refuse their invitation, when it occurred to him that an evening in a mansion was a bit of unexpected adventure to cap off his UK trip. Plus, the old lady had actually called the other guy "Lord," which amused him. And the cute girl had appeared out of nowhere to turn the situation around. This was turning out to be a sitcom.

What decided him was something he was barely conscious of: the lack of coherence in the group. Individuals with strong bonds would close ranks against an outsider, even if they normally fought amongst themselves. But Travis wasn't sensing this from the people in front of him. There was no conspiracy here, no creepy clan waiting for a victim. The lord was almost as disconnected as he was, and seemed friendly enough.

"If it's not too much trouble, I'd be very appreciative to spend the night. I have a train to catch tomorrow." He did not miss the look of relief crossing Mrs. Luyens' face.

[Lore]

"Well then," Mrs. Luyens began after clearing her throat. "Allow me to introduce Julia Wilkes, one of three maids in the house of Laceington's employment."

Julia curtsied with a warm smile on her face, "It is a pleasure to meet both of you." She nodded to Travis, and then turned her full attention towards Gregory, an unidentifiable emotion briefly flashing throughout her deep emerald eyes. "I look forward to serving you, Master."

"Please feel free to utilize Julia or any member of the staff during your stay. They are well-paid to take good care of the mansion, and comfortably accommodate guests as required. What else..." Mrs. Luyens drummed the nearby table with her fingers until snapping the thumb and middle finger on her left hand. "Right, meals. Along with making your residency effortless, the kitchen will prepare three main dishes, and take any requests you may have. Essentially, the staff is at your beck-and-call." She almost completely ignored Travis, and focussed her gaze on Gregory, insinuating that this was information she was going to divulge at some point later in the evening.

"Well said, Mrs. Luyens. Now if you'll excuse me, I shall prepare Master Gregory's chamber, and a room for the guest..." Bowing her head slightly in a show of utmost respect, Julia left quickly to complete her tasks.

[Mica]

Mrs. Luyens nodded at the maid called Julia, finally having some sort of contented expression. “Very well, since you are staying for the evening, I will have Rimes send you to your room and show you the way to the baths, so you may take one.” She sized him up critically for a moment before she made her way out to supervise the preparations. As the crowd dispersed, Rimes timidly stepped from the background, awaiting his new employer’s orders.

Gregory gave him a small smile before addressing the stranger to introduce himself properly. “My name is Gregory, please, make yourself at home Mister…?” His words trailed off, suddenly at a loss of what to call him.

[Vox]

Travis offered his hand. "Müller. Travis Müller. I just got back from a buddy's wedding in Scotland, and I decided to take the train back down to London. I was taking a walk while waiting for the next train, and saw your house. I'm really sorry for barging in here, but it really looked like there was someone at the window."

It was an awkward situation, but in what he believed was true English fashion, the others were smoothing it over. He offered his hand to Rimes as well.

[Mica]

He shook Travis’ hand with a nice steady grip, “Well then, Mr. Müller, let Rimes show you to your room. You will want to get your luggage there even if it may not be ready for use. I really do wonder about the window though,” he thought out loud, “perhaps we could go check? I’m sure Mrs. Luyens would never have to know.”

Gregory smiled; it wasn’t a particularly mischievous smile although the look was in his eyes. Rimes gave Travis a short bow before offering his hand for his luggage. He looked like a quiet boy, brown haired, pale and a bit blank faced. His eyes were bright blue, a contrast from his grayed clothes and features.

[Vox]

"Ah, sure," said the American, surprised and pleased to be taken seriously, and even more pleased that the formidable Mrs. Luyens was to be left out of it. "Yeah. That'd be dope. I'm up for it now if you are - we should probably get some stuff together first, though." Like a gun, he thought. Not that they were allowed to have them in this country.

"Or, do you want to do it later?" He blinked at Rimes, who was patiently waiting to guide him upstairs. "How about you, big guy, are you in?" He wasn't sure where the boy's loyalties lay.

[Mica]

“I am wherever you wish me to be.” The boy replied, giving his new employer a steady look. There wasn’t much emotion on his face which added a bit of eeriness to his words, but he hadn’t been completely expressionless.

Gregory glanced at him for a moment, wordless before he returned his attention to Travis, “well, perhaps we should get settled in our rooms first.” He remembered that he hadn’t touched his luggage as soon as he saw the bedroom, which while large was somewhat uninspiring. “Rimes, if you will?”

The boy nodded, “Yes, my Lord.” He offered his hand for Travis’ things.

[Vox]

Travis smiled and took a step back. "This is the only bag I've got," he said, meaning his backpack, "and I can handle it. Lead the way." Rimes bowed slightly - bowed! and took him out of the room they were in, down a corridor hung with landscapes and portraits, and into a more lavish room that must have been the front lobby, hung with more paintings, including a 10-foot high one of a woman in a narrow black dress, her silvery hair curled and twisted up into a flat bun. The woman smiled, but with a bitterness to her expression. There was a car in the background, which Travis recognized as a 1920s Aston Martin.

"Who's the lady?" he asked.

"That's Mrs. Rinauld." Rimes offered no further explanation and the American didn't ask. They went up a wide staircase and finally reached a hallway with ornately carved, heavy oak doors. Rimes paused in front of one of them and knocked. Hearing no answer, he opened the door and gestured Travis inside.

"Your room is in there, sir. If you need anything, press that button by the door, and someone will be round shortly." He closed the door.

Inside was a small sort of sitting room, with a sofa and table, and a doorway to a bedroom with a bath en suite. That was nice. Unfortunately, there was no en suite toilet, and he did not like wandering strange halls in the middle of the night looking for the john.

He decided that if worst came to worst in the middle of the night, he could just go in the tub.

The bed was king-size and a four-poster. There was cloth wrapped around the posts, tied down, which suggested it was a canopied bed. He had always thought canopied beds were for girls. There was a big fireplace, and light fixtures that were like the ones he'd seen in a Scottish building: lights that worked by gas or by electricity, so if one power source failed, the other was theoretically available.

He put his backpack on the bed, pulled out a butterfly knife, and started flicking it open and shut. The rhythm helped him concentrate. He thought about the weirdness of the situation downstairs.

His good-natured attempt to include Rimes had been rebuffed, without question. Travis had been firmly put in his place, and while it hadn't shown in his fixed grin, he cringed on the inside. For the first time in his UK trip, he devoutly wished he were home.

Being led up the front staircase allowed the maid Julia time to prepare the room, but it also emphasized that he was not intended to use the servants' stairs, which he found unsettling. He had never considered himself "above" any working people, and apparent snobbery from "below" was just wrong.

Screw it, he thought, putting away the knife. I'm gone in the morning and back home in a few days!

There were towels and soap thoughtfully provided in the bathroom. He washed and shaved, and was brushing his hair when there came a knock on the door.