John walked down the stairs. Seeing the group of three now gathered. "Good to see I'm not the only guy here," he said jokingly. He stood behind the two ladies, being taller than they he could see over them and didn't need to be in the middle of the group.

His "just doesn't feel right sense" went off agian. Second time agian in one day, he didn't like it. But he just dismissed it. What could go wrong here any ways, it's a quiet english retreat.

"Alexander, you know me, I'm not happy unless I'm causing some trouble," she said, grinning her cat-that-ate-the-canary grin at him. "Sorry if it ruined your night."

Directing her attention at Alaizabel, she dragged the toe of her combat boot, once more, along the carpet, her eyes examining the intricate pattern weaved into it.

Alaizabel watched the other two chat and smiled, "You two are a bad influence on each other, you know that?". Aine grinned back at her, Alex just shrugged, still looking at Aine.

"Right..." she said, turning round to face the stairs again, her back to the door. To her right was the piano, clusters of chairs around coffee tables, cabinets and a few cupboards. A door led into the rest of the right side of the house. The left side of the massive reception hall was similar, save for a large, floor length mirror where the piano would have been. Ornate ironwork curled around the edges of the mirror, sprouting leaves and flowers.

"This house will be brilliant for hide and seek," Alaizabel said, in reply to both of them, "I reckon we explore this bit first,". She headed towards the left, past the mirror, and pushed open the door at the end of the room. She paused for a second in the doorway, stunned by what she saw, before wandering in a bit to let the others follow in too.

The lower half of the walls were painted a dusky red, separated from the vertical pinstriped cream and red upper half by a black, cream and red border, detailing hunting scenes and various animals. Lantern lights jutted out from the walls, electric bulbs fitted. A relatively modest chandelier hung from the ceiling. Two windows with cushioned window seats looked out over the drive, framed by lush cream curtains. Opposite the windows was a magnificently huge fireplace, painted black, with a huge picture over the mantelpiece. A tiny plaque read, "The circus,". She looked up at the figures in the painting. Set against a murky black background, several insanely cheerful faces looked out. A contortionist, a jester, a ringleader and a strongman, cheeks rosy red, hair glossy and combed. The painting was oddly jarring with the refined room, but prompted a confused smile out of Alaizabel. There was a drinks cabinet at the far end of the room, next to a door, "That must lead to the tower", Alaizabel said, and the drinks cabinet turned out to be stocked with vintage whiskey and port, as well as murky green absinthe. The rest of the room was taken up by plush sofas, armchairs and pouffes, along with a few drinks tables, all facing the fire. The room was very large but also extremely cosy looking, and Alaizabel decided that although the red was a bit garish by day, it must look very warm and welcoming by night. For some reason the fact she could see a light switch by the door was intensely relieving.

Alaizabel plonked herself down on a sofa, sinking into the feather-stuffed cushions and sighing with contentment, "Oh. My. God. Guys... I'm afraid I'm gonna sit here all fortnight. You'll just have to bring me food, wine and chocolates.". She tilted her head back to rest on the sofa, glancing at the door to the tower. "What do you think to this room then eh? Quite the social space. Shall we try and see if the door to that tower is locked or not?"

John meandered about the room, picking at things, and messing with do-dads. His inate curiosity had always gotten the better of him. He walked around, and picked up a pillow. He squezed it with his hands, feeling the softness. He sat it back down, and glanced at the door Alaizable was talking about. "Why not," he responded.

"well if its locked you just let me and Aine handle it" Alex said through his teeth looking at Aine Knowing the idea of doing something bad got her attention " so lets see what we have" to Alex's disappointment the door was unlocked and lead to a small room with a stone staircase afer fumbling with the wall he caught a switch and the flash of lights glowed below them Alex lead the way followed by Aine Lizzy and john into a huge basement lined with wine racks the room smelt old and thick dust lay everywhere the long room stretched out in front of them cobwebs hanging gently swaying at the intrusion of fresh air alex and lizzy waked in first while aine and john checked out the wine. it was old and really old just how long had this place been here???

"Wow.....talk about vintage," commented Aine, fondling one of the bottles and shooting Alexander an unreadable look. "This place is.....Wow."

Despite the ancient musty smell, Aine took a deep, contented breath, marveling in everything, somehow finding this hidden dungeon the most enjoyable place in the world.

"It's beautiful," she said softly.

"1876, good year," he said putting the wine back. The stair case he had noticed also went up. He headed up the stairs while the others were down stairs in the basement. It gave him the "Just don't feel right" sense, but he could not pin down why. He moved around the tower, though it was quiet roomy. He picked up various things, and noticed they were old, 1800's old. But the odd thing was nothing beyond the 1800's were in this room. The dust testified to the long undisturbed room.

Delia gave a little knock on the old door, “Hey, sorry I’m a bit late..so what did you miniature archaeologists discover?”
Delia looked around and gave a smile to all of them- Alaizabel, John, Aine and Alexander. Delia’s eyes started scanning the furnishings...Ew...look at all these stuff, they’re too old to even be antics, i guess...she thought, a scowl on her face, which got hidden her rich auburn locks. She stood beside Alexander.
“So when did you arrive? It’s been a long time since a saw you...hows everything going?”Delia asked, without smiling or looking at him.

Alaizabel's eyes flickered towards Alexander, who was currently basking in all the attention. She realised John had left the wine cellar and headed for the stairs, shouting behind her to the others to follow, "C'mon, let's see what else there is in this tower.". She reached the landing, looking briefly through the door into the living room, then ran up the next flight, giddy and out of breath from all this running around. She almost bumped into John, who was stood with his back to the stairs.

She was about to apologise when she saw what he was looking at. "Woah..." she breathed, stepping around him into the room. The curve of the wall was covered in gleaming weapons. The metal shone in the light from two high windows. All types of spear, dagger, mace and sword, jagged sabers and blunt metal clubs. Axes and knives glittered from their niches, the walls bare stone, but a red velvet cloth was tacked up behind the weapons to present them and protect the blades from the stone of the wall. It was an impressive arsenal, easily fifty pieces. By the flat wall, that is, the one closet to the house, was a cabinet of bows and crossbows, made of oak and carved silver, whilst brown feathers peeked from a leather quiver of arrows and bolts.

"Look at all this stuff..." Alaizabel said, stepping forward to touch the flat of a curved dagger, tracing up to the golden hilt, seeing the blue velvet wrapped around it for grip. She heard similar gasps of morbid fascination as the others stepped into the room. The reflected light was almost dazzling. Every surface glinted and refracted rays of sunshine into the faces of the awed onlookers. Another staircase led up.

She felt a little thrill of anticipation. Would there be a door at the top of these stairs that would lead to the other rooms on the top floor, the ones overlooking the drive?

"Right!" she said, grinning madly, "Lead onwards my brave friends, let us see what else there is,".

John followed right behind Tess. He climbed up the stairs, carefull not to trip and fall. "If we keep bumping into each other, I'm going to have to wear bright clothes from no on," he said jokingly. His "just don't feel right" sense was coming and going, and now he realy was worried about what they were going to get into.

Alexander looked at the weapons the thought of leaving the room so soon after finding such a treasure trove was almost to much to bear but he guessed he could return later. his mind drifted Aine and Delia in the same place things could get nasty. He took one more look at the large collection of weapons "Real nasty" his mind whispered turning around he caught a glimpse or Delia watching him then she turned and walked up the stairs with the others he felt a stab of anguish and for once ....... the smile fell from his face

Alaizabel looked over her shoulder at John, "I'm not the one who needs to look where I'm going, besides, I don't think neon would suit you.". She turned to Aine as they got up the stairs, "Now I've counted all those weapons so if I see any missing I know who to accuse", she said, laughing to show she didn't mean it in a hurtful way. That room was a playground for Aine, and Alexander probably. But then maybe so was this...

A war room. Pure and simple. A large table with straight backed chairs, another drinking cabinet, a chalkboard, stacks of maps and papers, a filing cabinet. Half melted candles dribbled over the edges of their holders, boxes of matches stacked on a shelf that held mementos of foreign countries. Alaizabel imagined portly Victorian men debating their estates and plans in here, scribbling on the chalkboard and pointing at maps, waving letters and telegrams with furious animation, before retiring to the red room for a glass of port, but not before admiring the polished weapons on the middle floor. Her eyes flowed over the dusty furniture until they met the eyes of Alexander.

"Go on, pick a chair, I can see it in your eyes," she joked, sliding past him to the flat wall. A door. A very small door, hardly big enough for a full-grown man, was set into the wall. She put her hand on the latch and pulled. It lifted without barely a noise, and the door swung inwards. Extra sunlight streamed into the room, a buttery gold. The sun was setting on the other side of the house, making the horizon on this side mostly blue and lilac, with just a hint of the orange blaze that must be visible from the corridor next to her room. Ducking her head, she stepped through the doorway, beckoning the others, who had fallen silent. This corridor was devoid of stands or ornaments. The lights were not electric, but candles set into the wall, with metal plates separating the holder from the wallpaper to prevent scorch marks. The walls were a pale yellow, with images of dogs, cats, ducks and various farm animals frolicking along a border. The carpet was a deep blue, though worn in places.

Alaizabel pushed open the first door. A small bedroom greeted her. A Child's. A boy probably. Just a bed, a chest of drawers, a wardrobe and a chair. The walls were plain blue, the carpet the same deep blue one outside. The next room along was a girl's. There were a few more tiny rooms like this, a playroom, and then a nursery for small children, with a few cots. The beds were lacking linen, dust covered everything. The nursery toyboxes and furniture were covered in sheets. A larger room was obviously the nurse's room, whilst the last room held eight or so desks, a chalkboard, and numerous cupboards and filing cabinets.

"Fancy having the kids bit next to a war room," she said, pulling a face, "And such a small door too. Do you think the young masters got to join in playing capitalist with daddy?". She shook her head, confused once again by the stupid layout of the house. She looked at the door at the other end. There was a padlock on the latch. "Damn, guys, when you're finished looking, we have to go back down through the war room. Then I reckon we go make tea, where did we put the coolboxes? And is there a shop near here? I don't think we brought nearly enough food for two weeks.".

Everyone was still looking around. Alaizabel went into the playroom and lifted a few sheets. Tiny table set, train set, teddybears, a dolls house. Aliazabel blinked. The doll house was an exact replica of this house. It must have been custom made. Even the decor was the same. Alaizabel shivered involuntarily. It was all too easy to imagine her and her friends as tiny dolls in there, playing out whatever scenarios were constructed for them. There were no dolls, just the house, smelling slightly stale from years, wait, centuries of disuse...

Someone called her name. "Coming," Aliazabel shouted, replacing the dust cover and patting down her brown dress. She jogged out of the room and down the corridor to where the others were waiting.

Alexander sat in the large chair at the front overlooking the grand table "commander and chief eh?" he said putting his feet up. He leaned sideways to see down past the door that Alaizabel had skipped through he saw her enter a room just off the passage and turned back to the room john and Aine were preoccupied looking over the maps and other interesting items lying around in the room then his gaze stopped on Delia a small sigh escaped him then he looked back at Aine confusion locked his jaw and his fingers began to lightly drum the table lost deep in thought

"Commander and chief? Please," scoffed Aine, noticing Alexander. "Move over."

She pushed him playfully, dark locks of hair falling in her face as she tried to force him out of the chair, finally sending him onto the floor. "Success! Bow down to my ultimate power!"

She cackled wildly, then glanced down at Alexander. "Sorry, love......Call it a coup."

Then she chuckled again, letting her hand drift down, offering to help him up. Her grey eyes flickered over his face, the corner of her lip quirking up in an odd smile.

Alexander took Aines hand then that devil of a smile returned and he pulled her off the chair she fell and sprawled on top of him his grin widened "civil uprising darlin" holding her wrist gently so she couldn't move away just yet his eyes locked with hers "care to hear our terms" he let her go and looked over at the others there backs turned it had always been like this in the past the games and the playful fights he was quite sure he was the only guy Aine hadn't met and hit straight away not that he was complaining he'd seen her lash out and wasn't too fond of ever being in the line of fire "maybe a peace treaty?"

"What would that peace treaty entail?" asked Aine, somewhat grumpily. "I'm sure I can't wait to hear your terms."

Again, her eyes flickered up to his face, her lips quirking up in that odd smile, which immediately faded into a smirk, as she twisted her wrist out of his grip and squirmed around so that her knees were placed on his chest. "Care to surrender?"

She leaned forward slightly, drawing her face closer to his, that smirk fading back into that odd, unrecognizable smile.

The dark, angry girl had always found Alexander comforting- someone she could cause trouble with instead of cause trouble for. A rarity when it came to Aine- she had few friends, all of them, currently, in this old house.

Alaizabel stepped further into the war room, walking past Aine and laying a hand on her shoulder, "Don't, sign, anything," she whispered loudly, sneaking a smile at Alexander, who reacted in the usual way. Grabbing the banister Aliazabel skittered down the stairs before either of them could quip anything back at her.

Reaching the reception hall, she went around the main stairs and opened the door into the middle back of the house. The kitchen was extremely large, a door on the right leading into the dining room that took up the back right hand side of the house, a door on the left leading into the pantry, dairy room, and through that the garden. The kitchen had been fitted with all mod cons, fridge freezer, 8 ring cooker, two sinks and miles of work surfaces. In the middle of the room was an island work surface with cupboards built in, a fruit bowl (empty) in the centre, and some high chairs clustered around it. The fridges turned out to be off, but Alaizabel found a master switch for the kitchen and switched it on. Going back into the reception hall she went out to the drive and picked up the abandoned cool boxes, lugging them in as the others came out of the red room. The kitchen cupboards were painted white, the walls a pale green. The chairs were a light coloured wood, with chrome footrests. The work surfaces were black imitation marble. Pots and pans hung from one wall, several knife blocks were next to three wooden chopping boards. A search of the drawers revealed some pretty cutlery, plates, mugs and glasses. Alaizabel unpacked the fresh stuff and put it in the fridge, rummaged in cupboards some more, found the kettle and filled it with water. Aine was dangerously close to the knife blocks, Alex watching with a little smile. Delia was inspecting the food to see if it met her high standards, whilst John hopped onto a chair and rested his head on his hand.

"Right," said Alaizabel, emptying the contents of a linen bag onto the work surface and narrowly preventing a few lemons and apples from rolling onto the floor, "What shall we have for tea? I've got some lovely french bread and there's tons of veg to make a soup with, oh and of course,", she went over to the island and picked up a brown box, "cheesecake for pudding!". She put it back down and went over to the fridge, opening it, "Umm... there's stuff for a stir fry, a load of spicy stuff if you fancy fajitas... I dunno come have a look if you don't fancy anything. I fancy the fajitas personally..."

She looked at the others, grinning, a chefs hat practically appearing on her head, such was the eager expression that she wore. This was the problem with Aliazabel. Every kitchen was her kitchen. "Oh and does someone want to crack open a bottle of vintage wine, we've got free rein of the house remember, just not the stuff in the cellar. I'd rather we sell that than drink it, anyway.".

Alexander watched Aine for what seemed like ages remembering her from when they first met feisty, fun and always good for a laugh could this house offer windows to the past could again his smile broadened his face he looked away then as always with Aine it had to start with the game the play fight and then he,d see what was going on "hey Lizzy what we gonna eat? Because im starving" he looked back at Aine once she caught him looking (game on) his mind whispered but he did feel a heat run to his cheeks she always had that effect on him with her danger was like a match to petrol and well if the past was anything to go by .....he was the match

Aine fingered the butcher knives, then grabbed one, whipping around. "En garde!"

Chuckling to herself, she slipped it back into the holder, then giving Alexander her odd smile. "So, aren't you going to ask me how my weekend with my mother was? How I painfully missed all of you?"

She grimaced when she mentioned her mother, almost subconsciously, but her odd smile, warmer and more open than most of her other expressions, reappeared as her eyes landed on Alexander.

seeing Aine with a knife brought back memories of the room with all the weapons but that meant nothing to him when it came to Aine at one time she had been his sole reason for sticking around " i know what your mums like i don't need the details" it was true Aines mum hated Alexander the rouge biker blaming him for problems that at one point had sent there family into a tail spin but through it all he'd stuck by Aine when she needed him he'd be there when she didn't he'd leave always ready for her if she needed him " i missed you as well" he said haphazardly then his brain kicking into gear "i missed all you guys" he looked around again eyes settling on Aine once more shed fixed him with her gaze "you never called/ have you been OK?" it was as close as he asked to what went on with other peoples life's he never really pried it just wasn't his style.