(OOC: I'm going to send updates to whats going on in the world periodically. This just makes things seem more...alive / realistic. So this is what it will look like most of the time.)

*Swamp News Alert*
Time: 1:30pm
Atmosphere: Somewhat thick feeling, but the breeze helps at times. There is an odd chill in places. These are the spirits.

The sky is blanketed in grey clouds. The air smells of rain that has yet to come. A breeze can be felt periodically, and if you look towards the old trees you will see the grey moss blowing from their limbs. The moss would remind you of an old man's beard. All around are peering eyes, these are the crows. The guardians of the property. The eyes never look away, and if threatened they will Khaw loudly, and fly to a higher branch. On either side of the long gravel driveway is the swamp itself. The house is about three miles in. You will hear splashes as Alligators come in and out of the greenish grey water. Along the water is a thin fog. Things are mostly quiet, you can almost hear the Earth move. If you have powers of sight, you will notice many spirits wondering around aimlessly. They all seem to be from a different time period, some older then others. Most have evidence of their causes of death upon them. If you can see auras, you will notice that the house itself as an aura of its own. The old windows seem to watch you curiously. Visitors have not been here for centuries. While looking at the house, you will notice the paint peeling and some cracked windows, but the building itself seem overly stable and would outlive time itself. A black snake crosses the path and slithers into an old log covered in moss and some type of fungus that looks like round tainted yellow platforms. The grass is a deep green, with patches of dirt here and there. In front of the house is an old Oak Tree that seems to be as old as the house. There is a tire swing hanging from one of its thick branches. There is an old black tombstone, the appearance is weathered and cracked, but you can make out the shape of a cherub. The strange thing about it, is that the angelic face of the cherub, was more demonic then anything. Below the cherub is a black box monogrammed with the words. "Here lies Victoria, may her soul be cleansed of her evil ways." There was a weird pentagram like shape above that. A witch or someone with this kind of knowledge would notice that the symbol is one of imprisonment, usually used on demons. If you understood the symbol you would notice the cherub smiling at you, but it became normal after a blink of the eye. The owner of the house is no where to be seen, but he is near. Ones with a sensitive nose might smell he scent of crows among the old shingled roof, but he is nowhere to be seen. his scent is blocked mostly by the smell of the birds, so it goes somewhat unnoticed.

(OOC: Alrighty then, I will have something like this posted everyone once in a while, so that there are things for people to notice while they move around. Sometimes I will focus on a single character if they are by themselves. Also I will post Jaole's entrance after everyone is in the yard. I want some people to show up by themselves, but some of you can meet on the path and come together. Also, if any of this sounds god modish, just let me know! Happy writing!!! Just hang around the yard when you arrive, you can check windows and knock on the door if you wish. Try and look for him.)

Ryuuji had received word of his acceptance into the old plantation house, and packed up what little he had into a worn out black luggage case. After walking for what seemed like a while in the humid heat, he finally arrived upon a delapidated looking old building. From the looks of it, it had been around much longer than he did which he found funny. "Maybe this house is some sort of zombie too?" He laughed slightly at his own joke. No one else was around as far as he could tell. In fact, it was oddly quiet. Ryuuji took this time to look around a bit... an old tree swayed in the gentle wind, as did the tire swing attached to it. It gave him an eerie feeling, but he shook it off and began to head up to the door. As he walked up the worn path, he could see the crows flapping and cawwing loudly from the roof. This wasn't any trouble though, compared to the akward stares of humans and the occasional question as to whether he was sickly or if he was supposed to look dead...

He was on the porch now, waiting. "Would've thought there'd be someone here..." He knocked on the door gently. "Hello...?" He called. No answer. Maybe they aren't home...? He thought. Wait, then why would they call me up and say that I'd be moving in today...? Is it a prank? No, couldn't be... Ryuuji sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. He turned to look out across the yard. He decided he may as well wait a while seeing as there wasn't much else he could do. It was hard enough to get through that creepy forest once, let alone go back through. He looked over at the tombstone which he had passed on his way up here, wondering quietly what the one his family got for him looked like.

(You're not godmodding from what I can tell. ^^ Very detailed opening too, I like it. XD)

Leon walked along the long gravel driveway, entering the lands. He stood only five feet two inches tall, only weighing about 86 pounds, his bright blue eyes pierced the surrounding area, his blonde hair was messy and swayed in the breeze. Leon wore a black leather jacket and a blood red shirt that came down enough to cover the pockets of his black jeans. His skateboard shoes were black was well. He carried only a single weapon, a 16 inch dagger that was attached to his belt. His wings remained folded up around his body, covered by his jacket. Leon wasn't sure how anyone would take to him here at the Misfits' house, but he continued walking, slowly making his way down the driveway, quietly stepping on the gravel, not even a single sound was made by his walking.

Mr. Zero, a lanky man dressed in a light brown button-down shirt, and a dark blue sweater-vest, brushed at his brown hair as he paid the taxi driver at the end of the drive. Then he turned around, took a deep breath, hoisted his duffel-bag over one shoulder, and grabbed the huge trunk at his feet before heading down the long path. Dale mumbled to himself nervously as he walked through the swamp to the house. He didn’t much care for the noises he heard, and he was a bit freaked out by the spirits wandering through the woods. Not that he hadn't seen spirits before, no... just that these seemed.... so listless.

He did his best to appear nonchalant, but managed to come off only as jittery rather than a nervous wreck, If I pretend I can’t see them, maybe they’ll assume that I can’t. Yeah… ‘cause that usually works. Still griping to himself, and wondering at the chill in the air (Wasn’t the South supposed to be hot?), he shivered and yanked at the large trunk he was wheeling over the gravel path. The thing was ridiculously heavy, and he had to keep reminding himself that it was a necessity.

Slowly he broke through the tree-cover of the swamp to see the farmhouse. He paused for a moment on the path and stared at it. Nestled in between the gray of the sky and the dark living mush color of the earth in these parts, it seemed to crouch, waiting. Like a living creature. The knowledge that the house was a living creature didn’t help either. Dale pushed his glasses back squarely onto his face. Then he readjusted his travel sack, than the duffel full of clothes, and then (with an umph) snatched at the trunk again. It rolled loudly over the gravel, bumping and jittering—seemingly more nervous than the man pulling it along.

There seemed to be someone in the yard. …Someone dead… and standing. Watching the pale person standing before the house, Dale almost missed the silent teenager plodding along the road in front of him. Just before he walked straight into the small man, he stopped himself, and frowned slightly…at the…angel? A powerful angel? His step faltered and the heavy trunk slammed into the ground sending gravel into the air. He flashed an awkwardly apologetic smile at the boy, and made an ungraceful “urrk” noise as he lifted the trunk again.

“Hello there. My name is Dale. Do you live here?”

Asesia stared down the gravel drive then back at the piece of paper with the adress written on it. It seemed this was the right place. She smiled. It seemed like such a lovely slice of land with all its trees and swamp creatures. There were crows in the trees closest to her, their beady eyes watching her movements. She waggled her fingers at them in a friendly gesture.
'Hello crowsies.'
They didn't move at all so she guessed they were there to guard. Hoisting her bag up on to her back she flexed her fingers.
'Summoning! Zu!'
Her voice was clear and two smalliswh spirits appeared infront of her.
'Would you mind carrying the trunk for me boys?'

She walked down the path at her own pace taking in the atmosphere of her new home. It really was beautiful. She was bound to find the peace she needed to pefect her summonings here. As she neared the house Asesia caught the aura of something she hadn't quite expected to find. A black tombstone protruded from the ground, the cherub on the top looking as out of place as anything could. She knew the seal, a greater demon seal. Asesia swallowed. Greater demons were one of her biggest fears and she hoped never to have to summon one or ever see one for that matter. Maybe this place was a little more dangerous to her than she had fist anticipated. She shivered before noticing there was quite a gathering to her right. Three men. none of whom seemed to know each other, were standing around. Shje tried to place them, at least two of them were abnormal, just like herself.
A zombie maybe, something angelic possibly and god knows what that is...
She squinted at the man with the trunk. He seemed to be as normal as they come but who was she to judge. She shugged and stepped up onto the porch. The house itself was ancient. She could feel it when she touched the wood of the door. Asesia knew the place was even older than her and she had been a round a while now. It felt as if the place was breathing. There was something here. A curse that ran deep. She would have to be very careful with her summonings in this place.
Time to meet the housemates I guess
She turned to the boy she thought might be a zombie and stuck out her hand.
'Hey there sweetheart, nice to meet you.'
When introducing yourself it's always polite to say your name but Asesia never told anyone her name unless she belived she could trust them first. She worked this out by touching people.
'Oh I forgot!' She tapped herself on the side of the head 'Silly me.'
She turned to the floating trunk.
'Thanks guys, off you go now.'
The spirits disapeared. Well now she'd given a slight indication to what she was. She laughed at her mistake. She was going to have a LOT of fun here.

Licking his lips, Barinx slowly loped towards the house. It had an appealing look to it, isolated and big. He smiled to himself, thinking of all the fun he could have here.

He saw an young woman walking along, a way ahead of him when suddenly she stopped. He decided he would carry on walking when he froze as two ghostly apparitions appeared. He tensed up, only breathing in relief when they carried her belongings and she set off again towards the house.

For some reason, ghosts and spirits really scared Barinx. Maybe he wouldn't have as much fun as he thought... unless he could find something to scare those things, that nightmares themselves are made of?

He carried on towards the house, avoiding eye contact with anybody who tried. He wanted to make himself comfy before introducing himself to anybody. Besides, what was the fun in everybody knowing you're a shapeshifter before you've scared them half dead?

Dale had unwittingly followed the silent boy the short distance to the house. Dale blinked stupidly for a moment, and realized—with the new edition to the group gathered in front of the house—that they were probably all new here. The house peered at them, a powerful presence in the swampland, and Dale peered hesitantly back. He looked at all of them a bit closer, his eyes widening at the woman who freely commanded spirits to carry her bags for her (that struck him as an oddly female way of handling the supernatural). He mentally nodded to himself after peering at her for a moment.
The brown-haired man jerked to readjust the trunk on his back and realized that if they were all waiting here—as though for some sign from above—he could set the damn thing down. With an inaudible sigh of relief the man gently (almost lovingly) set the trunk on the ground beside him. He let himself slump unceremoniously onto the trunk, and let himself enjoy the sensation of sitting—not carrying.

The silence between him and the boy-angel had seemed comfortable enough, and if he were to reply at this point Dale wouldn’t be surprised. It hadn’t been that long ago since he’d asked the boy (dumbly; in retrospect), if he’d lived here. Dale shook his head lightly at the odd sense of jetlag, and pulled out the post-it he’d scrawled the house’s information on; checking, for the umpteenth-thousandth time, that he was in the right place. Yes, and the odd gathering of new residents should confirm that more than this piece of paper. He waited.

His eyes slid slightly sideways when the next young man approached the house. He seemed all-together too normal. It bothered Dale slightly that he couldn’t quite place where he’d seen that particular … sense before. He bit his lower lip in thought, and left the man alone. He seemed to want to avoid contact right now anyhow.

Charles looked at the swamp. then he looked at his clean leather-shoes. He sighed, He wished he could turn into a bat. He took a step into the swamp and sighed again

He came out of the swamp and looked at the old house.
'' Looks a little older than me'' He said to himself and smiled. That oak tree with the swing reminded him of his 5th marriage. They had a swing like that in their garden. Before she figured out that he wasn't alive. He saw the other people and walked towords them. He didn't pay attention to the grave with the wierd cherub. He had seen to many graves in his days and there wasn't naything special with this one. He checked his suitcase to make sure it wasn't wet. He joined the group outside the hous
'' Good day my friends are we all waiting for the same thing?'' He asked and looked at all the different people'

Dale let his eyebrows arch high as the young gentleman approached the group. He allowed the shiver of prey in the presence of a predator to shoot down his spine—it was always good to acknowledge ‘privately, to oneself’ that you were mortal when faced with dangerous immortality. The moment of natural fear—Dale preferred the word “respect''--passed. A small smile crooked the corner of his lips at the interesting dress, and his heart went out to the expensive shoes which had, had to tread through the swamp.

“I do believe so. Yes.” He paused for a moment tilting his head to one side, “Evidently, the house was mostly unoccupied.” Dale almost bit his tongue at the ominous sound of mostly in that sentence, in front of the ancient house, in the middle of the haunted swamp, and hunched a bit in his comfortable perch on his trunk. Fiddling idly with one of the buttons on his shirt's cuffs and familiarizing himself with the aura's around him, he wondered if maybe his impulsive move into the supernatural wasn't a bit ... foolish.

Charles looked at the man that had answered him.
'' It's a pleasure to meet you my good man, the name is Charles Brookshire'' He said and smiled. This man was a mortal, how interesting. He allways liked the company of mortals, for they never had the balls to insult or stab you in the back. And mortals allways acted nice even if they planned to hit you in the face with a crusifix. Charles remember the night well.

1940 France, trenches.
He and his group was the only ones left to defend the trenches from the germans. But one of his men cought him drinking blood from a german solider.
'' Sergeant? what the hell are you doing!?'' Charles didn't have time to answer before one of the other soliders hit him the face with a big wooden cross. They allready knew he was a vampire, and seeing him drink washed away all doubts.
Of course a wooden cross in the face didn't really hurt Charles except an broken nose and that his eye got poked out. But they had tried to burn him too. With an flamethrower and spear him with an sharpened stick. So he killed the men he trusted the most andk illed the advancing germans.
He shook his head to get the unpleasant flashback out of his head.

'' And what is your name my good man?'' He asked the man infront of him.

Dale stood up, pushed his glasses back up onto his face, and smiled congenially at the vampire.

“It is my pleasure to meet you Charles. Dale Zero, at your service.”

Dale offered a warm hand to the younger-looking fellow. Physically speaking, Dale’s best feature was probably his hands; they tended towards being dry rather than moist, not overly soft or rough, had long slender fingers, and his handshake was firm, brief, and usually left strangers with a welcomed feeling. Not that Dale was aware of this.

“I’m new in this neck of the woods, and so you’ll have to forgive me if I blunder a bit—I’m from the Northwest originally.”

Dale’s smile did not falter as he mentally kicked himself for using the phrase “neck of the woods.” Nice pun klutz. His eyes met those of Charles. There was an iota of a second where Zero’s deep brown eyes seemed to pull at the atmosphere around them for a moment, and then the sensation was lost as they focused on gold. The small dance of energy was not something Dale performed consciously, and there was a good chance the man before him would miss it--especially in the presence of so many other more interesting energies. He didn't want to stare down the vampire, and he hoped that the friendly eye contact was taken well. Some members of the occult didn't like it when a human wasn't phased by their naturally foreign aura (even normal humans could usually sense when something was wrong), and so Dale allowed himself an extra blink at the bright eyes.

“I look forward to living with you.” He meant it.

The man had nice hands, not like a woman but nice.
'' Yes, so do I'' He said and smiled. The man looked like he was a man that Charles could have a civilized conversation with. There was something with the eyes, they didn't changed color or something but they just felt different.
'' I don't mean do be rude but you are mortal and you don't look like a mage so what are you?'' Charles asked and kept looking at him. This was indeed an interesting man. Charles could tell if someone was magician they had that look over them, the magic look and this man hadn't that look.
Maby he was a seer? Maby he could read your toughts. Well Charles have nothing to hide. Well nothing to hide for the last 100 years.

Dale Zero smiled brightly. Funny how one could have a bordering-on-normal conversation in the middle of such a… strange location. In the distance he heard a crow, and he could feel the house leaning towards them to sense what sort of people had gathered in the yard.

“A doctor first and foremost.”

Dale’s eyes sparkled with amusement for a moment before continuing, “As for being mortal—I’m a human Spirit Medium. Like most Medium’s I’ve got my own quirks and talents, but basically I find it easy to communicate with spirits and other… creatures… of the occult. They tend to be drawn to me, and I’ve decided to give up on leading a 'normal' life.”

Dale rubbed the back of his neck and stretched out his shoulder that had been lugging the trunk. “Would you be offended if I asked how old you were? Or what brought you to this Plantation?”

'' Not at all my good man'' Charles said. A medium, how interesting.
'' I'm a little over 250. But i feel like 21'' When he said that he realized how old he was. He had watch the world change. He had talked to Abraham Lincon, Fought in the Civil War and fought against the germans. And that was just a few of the thing he's done. And now all the technology. that's why he moved here to rest some years and get away from all the technology. Then he remembered that he was talking to Mr.Zero.
'' I just wanted to rest, and this place looks nice''

(OOC: Alright, it seems that everyone but Mayna as entered the property. Jaole will make an appearance after she arrives, but here is an update to the environment.)

*Swamp News Alert*

As the newcomers began to fill the front yard, things began to change. The crows were confused as to why their were so many people here all at once. They began to ease themselves closer, some moved to the oak tree with the swing. Others would fly in the air and circle everyone. The caws could be heard in the background from different directions. They were talking to each other.
The Black Cherub tombstone began to watch Asesia with interest. It knew she was a witch, and there was a chance of freedom. The eyes seemed to follow Asesia, but if she looked they would turn away. One single crow landed upon the cherub and seemed to sit guard. Great X6 Grandma Victoria did not need to be freed.
A warm breeze blew, and the dandelions (in spore form. white fluff balls.) that surrounded the property released their spores creating an odd dream like appearance. These plants like everything else on the property had a magically haunted feel to them. They twisted and turned around the newcomers gently, before lightly scattering in various places on the ground.
The breeze also caused the trees to rustle their leaves.
For about a minute their seemed to be a welcoming feel, but disappeared quickly. Things grew quiet once more. The spirits continued to wonder around aimlessly. Some noticed the ones who could see them, and began watching them as they walked.

(OOC: Hope that adds some more detail to work off of! Sorry for the lateness, all the replies came after I went to bed! Haha.)

Asesia was distracted from her point of interest by a crow that had landed on the head of the cherub statue. There was something about that gravestone that really set her teeth on edge. She shook her head the to clear it of any dark thoughts. She would have to keep a distance between her and that thing. Two of the other men had started up a conversation. She decided to join in to keep herself occupied.
'A doctor huh?'
She leant over the railing of the porch, her low cut black dress sliding slightly lower and shortening at the back. She hadn't had a good conversation with a supernatural being for a very long time.
'And a vampire yes? I'm guessing you got bored of the immortality.'
She winked at the vampire. The last one she'd met intended to screw as many women as possible with his unlimited time. She had shortly put a stop to that. A wind from deeper in the swamp blew the leaves of the trees. Asesia had a feeling that more than the newcomers were listening in on this conversation...

Mr. Zero had only met a handful of creatures that were as old as Charles, and he was excited at the prospect of picking the man—vampire’s—brain at a later date. Although the gentleman’s thoughts seemed to wander… Dale speculated that when one lived for as long as the man before him had, they tended to have flashbacks rivaling those induced by Acid. That was okay though. He had, had a professor in college who would stop mid-sentence, leave the class anxious for the better part of two minutes, and then start speaking again as though nothing had happened.

Dale nodded in understanding to Charles, not speaking as he sensed the emotional movement of the estate. He shut his eyes briefly, and sat back down on the trunk. It seemed that nothing resembling a landlord would appear until all the new tenants had arrived… but that the land seemed to be warming up to them—even if the crows were a bit curious. He slowly opened his eyes. The lively witch had moved closer (along with a handful of spirits which now listlessly wandered just outside of the house's shadow). He smiled at her, appreciating the dress, her enthusiasm, and her apparent disregard for the respect which should be afforded vampires. She must be a powerful witch--although the ones that survived tended to be of a more powerful ilk.

Dale absently took off his glasses and cleaned them against his sweater-vest in a well-practiced motion. After a moment he set them securely back on his face. He stretched his legs out from the trunk, and settled comfortably, prepared for a wait.

Charles looked at the witch she had a nice dress indeed.
'' My name is Charles. What's your name madame?'' He asked and looked at her. She showed no respect for him, witches never did. But he didn't mind. He had met his fair share of witches in his days and they all had a lack of respect.
'' I wonder when we get to move in, i have an zombie on his way with more of my luggage.'' Charles said and looked at the swamp. He missed his books and his monky that he got from a arab when he fought in Egypt. And in his luggage there was a pair of clean leather shoes.

'Well hello Charles. You can call me Asesia. Said A.See.See.Ah.'
She phonetically spelt out her name in a slow exagerated tone. Vampires were always full of inteligence and the only way to find out exactly what they are like is to insult their inteligence on first meetings. If he snapped then she'd obviously have a lot of fun but if he didn't he'd be a hard nut to crack and she'd have more respect for him. The house seemed to glare at her back. Asesia spun round, her eyes aimed at the attic but she could see nothing. Turning back to Charles she smiled.
'Am I the only one who feels like we're not quite welcome here?'
The question was general.

''Nice to meet you madame Asesia. And yes it looks like the house don't want guests'' He said and smiled. She was trying to get him mad, but his savage days was over. And he wouldn't let her get to him. She would be a lovely neighbour. He kept looking at the swamp. He shouldn't had asked that vodoo guy to get a zombie to carry his stuff. And that vodoo guy, He lived in africa and made zombies there. He then shipped them to people ho wanted ''slaves''. Quite an unussually occupation but then again many people needed ''slaves''. There was only one problem. The zombies he made was extremely braindead and slow. So the zombie might just have walked off a cliff or something. He was lost in his toughts again.

(yes, sorry for my late post, i live on the east coast of America, and so i checked the forum right before i went to bed last night.)

Leon watched as all the creatures started to gather on the property, he noticed some of them were already getting to know eachother and becoming friends. Dale the older gentleman didn't look too dangerous, but in his life time he's learned that looks are deceiving. Leon kept his hand close to the hilt of his dagger, the hilt was made of black wood, the wood was extremely rare and to be considered exotic, if found, the wood would be worth thousands and thousands of dollars. Leon looked around and remained quiet, he wasn't sure who to trust and who not to trust, but seeing how everyone was gathered here should be trust worthy. Leon walked to the back of the ground and leaned against a tree not too far away.

While leaning agaisnt the tree, he decided to shapen his dagger. Leon unsheathed his dagger and took out a shapening stone. The dagger was a grand total of 16 inches long, the hilt was big enough for one hand to hold it comfortably. The dagger looked to be extremely old, a few hundred to a thousand years old. The blade seemed to be in really good shape for being such an old dagger. If looked closely there was an inscription on the blade which said "Through the darkness, will one see the true form of the lone angel." Leon ran the shapening stone against the dagger's blade at a 30 degree angle, making sure that both faces of the blade were evenly shapened. While shapening the blade, Leon kept a close eye on everyone.

Dale listened idly to the conversation, and tried to stop himself from drifting into a light doze. The jetlag was playing havoc on his sense of time, and he worried that no matter how …friendly his new housemates had seemed, it would be unwise to fall asleep with them all standing around together.

His shrewd eyes darted towards the plantation house and he let his eyebrows knit together in thought. He thought, just maybe, he was beginning to like the house. It still seemed like some ominous crouched beast… but maybe I’m just being too hypervigilant, but maybe--it was curious as well? He shook himself from the strange sensation and blinked owlishly as he turned his gaze to the yard.

Some of the more restless spirits from the swamp had begun to creep closer. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end when he realized that they were probably not just curious about the strange mix of people gathered next to the powerful house. Most spirits would most likely avoid getting too close to such a powerful entity. Let alone that creepy grave. Demons? No thank you. The sound of a whetstone on blade brought him back to the present, and he forced his nervous mind to ignore the battered ghosts. Dale stretched again.

Frowning up at the sky he readjusted his glasses.

Ryuuji eyed the others quietly as they all showed up one after another. So these people are to be my roommates, huh? At first it made him nervous as a few of them looked as if they were human, however that was impossible. This house was for the unhuman after all. His bored expression changed slightly as he grinned, and waved from the porch where he had been standing. "So you all are the other guests here, huh? Well it's nice to meet you all." These others... I hope we get along... However, he couldn't shake his slight nervousness when looking at Dale and Barinx. They both appeared the most human-like to him. This made him a bit sick to his stomach, but he tried to shake it off. "My name's Ryuuji." He said, in attempt to clear his thoughts.

The wandering ghosts were one thing that was completely visible to Ryuuji. As a fellow member of the undead, he was fully aware of their existance. They were like him in some ways, tied to life for some reason or another. They each had no say in the matter, and yet they also gave him a creeped out feeling. They seemed more... distant than himself. He ran a hand through his hair, and tried to ignore them.