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Entry tags:
[closed] f is for friends who do things together
Who: Gwen, Viren, Warthrop
When: Early Feoveuer
Where:Caer Chateau Morons
What: New housemates learning to live with each other.
Warnings: n/a, will add if necessary
[For three days, the smaller of the two upstairs bedrooms is deathly quiet. The door is appears to remain closed and there is almost no sign that the inhabitant—some man with blood under his fingernails and a name that no one bothered to give Gwenaëlle when she was first saddled with him—is there at all. Once in the night, there is some dark shape on the upper floor landing and the creak of stairs. Once, the door to the basement is left just slightly ajar as if someone had stood there for a moment, but couldn't bring himself to go further.
As far as unwelcome company goes, there is very little in the way of charm. But surely there have been more dreadful apparitions to come falling through a mirror and into Aefenglom, one might reason. Anyway, there are other more pressing events than the odd man haunting the upper floor of the house. There is a festival, and a trial, and a rather spectacular series of beheadings—
Then comes the first shattering crunch from the main floor kitchen in the middle of the night. It is more pop than a crash - some glass dropped on accident, perhaps. These things happen. The crashes which follow soon after are more significant.
By the single light of the kitchen, a wraith like figure is drawing down bits of unused dishware from the cabinets one at a time. He holds each piece, studies it seriously, and then gamely flings it to the floor, before moving on to the next plate or bowl.]
When: Early Feoveuer
Where:
What: New housemates learning to live with each other.
Warnings: n/a, will add if necessary
[For three days, the smaller of the two upstairs bedrooms is deathly quiet. The door is appears to remain closed and there is almost no sign that the inhabitant—some man with blood under his fingernails and a name that no one bothered to give Gwenaëlle when she was first saddled with him—is there at all. Once in the night, there is some dark shape on the upper floor landing and the creak of stairs. Once, the door to the basement is left just slightly ajar as if someone had stood there for a moment, but couldn't bring himself to go further.
As far as unwelcome company goes, there is very little in the way of charm. But surely there have been more dreadful apparitions to come falling through a mirror and into Aefenglom, one might reason. Anyway, there are other more pressing events than the odd man haunting the upper floor of the house. There is a festival, and a trial, and a rather spectacular series of beheadings—
Then comes the first shattering crunch from the main floor kitchen in the middle of the night. It is more pop than a crash - some glass dropped on accident, perhaps. These things happen. The crashes which follow soon after are more significant.
By the single light of the kitchen, a wraith like figure is drawing down bits of unused dishware from the cabinets one at a time. He holds each piece, studies it seriously, and then gamely flings it to the floor, before moving on to the next plate or bowl.]