Tuesday - Around 4pm

Cynily had lost track of the true seasons before she had gone out to kidnap the others, being inside of the shield that she had created enabled her to control the weather around the mansion; though, she wasn't quite sure that she truly cared what the actual season was outside of the protection. Her brown eyes stared out of the large window within her bedroom, looking out at the light snow that was falling to the ground around the mansion. Everything looked so peaceful when looking at it from the inside, only when she would go outside of the mansion would she ever remember what was really going on throughout the world around her. Only in those moments of fresh air would the reality of it all pang at the back of her mind and remind her of what she had to do to make it all right once again.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she pushed herself off of the window seal, her small hands pushing off the bit of dust that had placed itself on her outfit as she sat to look out onto the landscape. "I suppose it's time to get down to business," she whispered to herself as she walked across her room, her black heels tapping against the wooden floor in a rhythmic pattern. She knew that the effects of what she had used to gather them all up would be wearing off any moment, and all of them would be confused and in disarray in the living room; it was her job to set them straight and, hopefully, be able to explain things to them before anyone attempted to run off only to find out that they couldn't.

As she headed down the secondary staircase, and then the main staircase, she could feel her heart begin beating just a bit faster than it usually did; of course, it was out of sheer nervousness. She wasn't truly too nervous, but she was a bit concerned about how they would react to waking up in an unknown place. She stopped at the bottom of the staircase and took a deep breath. Her eyes looked over the others, seeing that they were begin to stir and awaken in that very moment. She stood there silently for a few moments, giving them a bit of time to adjust to waking up at least enough to understand her words before she cleared her throat loud enough for it to be heard by them all. "As you can see, you aren't exactly home anymore," she said to them, stepping down from the last step on the staircase and taking a few steps into the living room, though, keeping herself a few feet away from where the closest one was at. "But, this place is going to be your new home. Well, at least, for a while." She looked to each and every one of them separately before she spoke once more. "Unfortunately for us all, how long you six have to stay here all depends on you." She suddenly shook her head some, giving the smallest smile, "Oh, my apologizes, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Cynily Hiresna. And this," she said as she gestured around the entire home, "Is my-....Your home."

Ansem's head throbbed. He shifted, the plush of the sofa cool against his cheek and--

Sofa? He thought, sleepily. What sofa?

His brain was trying very hard to catch up to this...sofa. The stationary piece of furniture made no sense. Ansem never slept on sofas. He barely ever used the things. While he was sure that, yes, there were sofas in the large castle he called home, he knew there weren't any in rooms he frequented. So why was he asleep on a sofa? And what room had he been in?

His eyelids were heavy and his limbs felt as though he'd been swimming for ages. He felt sluggish, like he'd been drugged. His head's throbbing wasn't helping matters. Then there was the sofa... and he was pretty sure he was sleeping on his satchel. Now that feeling was slowly crawling back into his body, the odd shape in his side seemed to be a book-- or two or three, he wasn't sure-- and if he was carrying his satchel, wouldn't that mean he was in the library?

On a sofa? A nagging voice in the back of his mind reminded him. Ignoring it, Ansem squeezed his eyes shut. It certainly didn't smell like the library. Old books, dust, ink, wax-- all of the familiar library smells weren't there. So then... where am I? he wondered. The thought made him actually open his eyes, blearily blinking into the brightness beyond his lids.

There were others with him, people he didn't know or recognize at first glance. The room seemed elegant even though it was sparsely decorated. His eyes were drawn to the windows, draped with dark colored curtains. His eyesight was blurry but...outside was white. After a little while, he realized snow was falling. Snow? He wondered. Panic lashed through him. Was it winter? He was almost certain-- no, in fact, he felt it couldn't possibly be--

Someone cleared their throat and Ansem realized that he was sitting straight up, staring wide-eyed at the window. The others seemed to be getting up as well. He took a deep breath, turning to face the person who wanted his attention. There, on a staircase behind the sofa he was on... was a woman. Maybe she was a woman. She was boyish, short, slender...it was androgynous and confusing. The curve of her hips...Ansem was all too accustomed to that swell. He was sure she was a woman. Her clothes were... well, not what he was accustomed to, but at the very least nice to look at. Or maybe it was just that she was nice to look at. She's pretty. Ansem thought absently. ...But... He gazed at her, watching her give everyone in the room a once over. She must be the reason why I'm here. Was I kidnapped? Am I being punished? He would have gone on, but her gaze fell on him and his thoughts immediately quieted. It was as though he feared she could read his mind by looking at him. When she glanced away, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Finally, she spoke. "As you can see, you aren't exactly home anymore," she stepped down one last stair and into the room before pausing, looking them all over again, "but, this place is going to be your new home. Well, at least, for a while. Unfortunately for us all, how long you six have to stay here all depends on you."

What? Ansem's brow creased and he frowned.

The woman shook her head, a small smile gracing her lips. "Oh, my apologizes, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Cynily Hiresna. And this," she gestured, as if presenting to them the house, "is my-....Your home."

Ansem stared at her, quiet. This place... is my... home? He gripped the satchel he hadn't even realized he had, nervous and surprised and slightly angry. No, not my home. Her home. My...prison.

A blackness suffocated Dorian's consciousness, heavy and intrusive. Then there was a voice.

A voice? There is someone in this room.

Dorian awoke and stood out of the chair he was in with one swift movement. He was immediately alert, eyes open and head turning as he was taking in his surroundings and other occupants of an obviously unfamiliar room. Whenever he would take rest no one would dare to disturb him, never mind being in the same room. So what was this?
There was a window nearby through which he could observe wintry weather. Which was unnerving considering that Dorian lived in a valley gifted with much sun and bright weather, clear days under which the great shedding of blood could be properly witnessed.

Concluding his change in destination, he swept his eyes over the people gathered once again and found them to be familiar. Not that Dorian was particularly fond of politics, but he was interested in knowing the faces of the people he would someday defeat. And it wasn't just their faces that he knew. Patting his side, Dorian was pleased to find that his notebook was still there. All the details he had taken on them may soon have opportunities to be of use, as well as so much more that he could now add.

And here was their host elegantly descending a set of steps. Ever so gracious, thinking itself so very clever to have gotten hold of him. "Well then, miss Cynily Hiresna." He butted in as soon as she had introduced herself. "I suppose I will have to make myself at home here. It is such a lovely place after all."

Dorian ran his hand over the plush back of a leather sofa in which resided another of the other royal victims, the dark one with the ever-present fire between his legs. Dorian retracted his hand in disgust. The thing wasn't even angry, he was just taking it like a dead woman would helplessly take any horny assailant. He forced a smile at Cynily and tilted his head as if to mock inquisitiveness. "But do tell; is there any particular reason in wanting to gather all of us together? Have you been lonely, poor dear?" As Dorian spoke, his voice rose in volume as well as intensity. Under his collar, the muscles in his neck visibly tensed and his wide gaze remained unblinking while with his mad smile he spoke, "Because, you see, there is a war going on. And it is quite unfortunate but, because of it, I have been incredibly BUSY!"

He ended with a shout, as was his custom, that contorted his face into a maniacally happy substitute of what it should be. Maybe it was unreasonable. But I'm still smiling. Aren't I such a nice one, Dorian told himself. With a still twitching smile, he spoke with a quieter voice but with unbidden intensity, "However, I can't be ungrateful to such a generous host. I apologize for my late introduction as well. King Dorian Wildereth, at your service." He hissed the last part scathingly and then gave the shortest and most rigid bow, almost just a twitch of the torso, to the assembly of people.

It was the shout that woke up Eileen. Murmuring a very unlady like groan, she carefully opened her eyes. Where in the world was she? She was looking up at the ceiling. Ceiling? Wasn't she outside hunting? Something felt very wrong for a moment. The blonde hair queen turned her head and looked outside to see it snowing. Snowing? She remembered it being a cool day, but it certainly had not been snowing. This rang alarm bells in her head. She recalled what she had been doing moments before. She was riding with several of her men, hunting for game. She spotted a hare and had taken aim, when something startled her horse and reared up, causing Eileen to lose her balance and all went black from there.

It was then she heard someone introduce himself as King Dorian Wildereth and Eileen became wide awake there. Wildereth? What in the world was he doing here? Sitting up quickly, the young queen looked around and no only saw that not only was King Dorian was there, but other royals too. A look of confusion appeared over Eileen's face and she saw a strange woman standing near the stairs. She looked herself over and saw she was still in her riding habit along with her bow and arrows and small knife that was attached to her hip. Since she had no idea where she was, she thought it be best to see what was going on and how and why there were all here.

"Pardon me, but where exactly we again, and how did we get here?" she asked very politely.