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Drop Dead, Darling

The Manor


a part of Drop Dead, Darling, by pieluver.


pieluver holds sovereignty over The Manor, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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The Manor



The Manor is a part of Drop Dead, Darling.

9 Characters Here

Everette Insuza [24] "I will win; if not for my freedom then for my sanity."
Wiley Skidmore [23] "Oh, umm...sorry, sorry, I'll just leave now."
James Butler [20] "..."
Theodore Clayton [19] "S'pose it must be hard to live life between a rock an' a hard place."
Laurent Matthias Foxlinde [18] "Knowledge is important, but it is action that turns the cogs."
Linnet Mallory [17] 'My biggest fear is that, eventually, you will see me the way I see myself...'
Anderson Fulton [17] I've always pursued a challenge to the end, and this appears to be one of the greatest available.
Drake Stuart [9] "Tch, you humans are all the same."
Eden Fellsden [6] "Even though I have nothing to lose, I will always, always fight." {Inactive}

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4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wiley Skidmore Character Portrait: Everette Insuza Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Anderson Fulton
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#, as written by Shané
Anderson nodded politely at Everette's long, but truly rather meaningless sentences. Long winded speeches without much by substance were just part of life in the upper class, and yet being placed in such a new, exciting circumstance Anderson found himself no longer content to play with niceties. For the first time he found them irritating and altogether pointless.

Despite his new-found criticism of his upbringing, Anderson allowed the lady to bid he and Wiley farewell. He bowed without any real deference, but more out of habit in response to her courtesy. He was about to turn to Wiley and continue their conversation when he caught her give Wiley a more genuine gesture; a small smile. This irked him more than he cared to admit. Surprised by the strength of his irritation towards something he would ordinarily find petty he immediately put it down to fatigue to compensate. Nonetheless he could not so easily put away this rather uncharacteristic disappointment that she had paid more attention to Wiley.

Finding himself unable to dispel his feelings, he instead masked them and turned back to Wiley with a more neutral, if not more distant, expression. It was more easy to hide the true nature of his emotions with Wiley's next words. They seemed almost too well matched to Anderson's previous plans and a genuine smile marked Anderson's features.

"I daresay that sounds like quite a sensible plan." Anderson said with much praise in his voice. "I'd prefer not to use such devices as weapons, but to ere on the side of caution is far wiser than finding yourself unprepared-"

He was going to continue when he noticed Drake's little henchman staring at the pair. He frowned slightly not liking the detached way the man could simply observe without having actually getting involved in this sick game. Anderson sent him a hard look, warning him not to interfere and then turned back to Wiley.

"I think the sooner we act upon your suggestion the better." He lowered his voice to keep James from overhearing. "I find that ghouls presence quite unsettling and fear he is far too much in league with Drake for my liking."

Giving Wiley a conspiring nod, he started to leave the room and began wandering the corridors for the sign of a kitchen.

It wasn't long before he chanced upon it. It did not appear to have been in use for quite some time given the amount of dust forming blankets upon the counter tops. Perhaps this sick game had been idle for longer than Anderson had anticipated. Finding himself slightly off put by the rather dead and unwelcoming sight, Anderson slowed his steps taking his time to let his eyes rove around the new room.

After a second or two, he shook off his apprehension and made his way over to the drawers. The first one held what he expected; silvery forks, spoons and small knives. Finding nothing of particular use he delved into the next one. Mainly ladles were kept here, but underneath a few larger one was the glint of metal.

A sigh of relief escaped Anderson in an uncharacteristic lapse of his mask. He grasped the handle and pulled up a large carving knife, glinting dully in the dim light. Suddenly Anderson frowned, his mouth twisting into a grimace. His hand dropped it back into the draw with a clatter, his mind coming up with gory images of the blade delving deep into unsuspecting victims. As much as he had decided he would most certainly be participating in this game and winning, the reality of holding such an ugly implement had momentarily caught Anderson off guard.

Furious with his sudden lack of courage, he forced himself to quickly pick it back up again, slicing his hand open on the blade.

He let out a curse at the long, if not shallow cut.

"Damn my clumsiness."


3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wiley Skidmore Character Portrait: James Butler Character Portrait: Anderson Fulton
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Wiley tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants as Anderson lavished praise upon him. His face was still flaming, and he ducked his head a bit, smiling bashfully. Perhaps this wouldn't be as bad as he'd thought. At least he had on ally. "Of course, of course," he murmured his agreement with Anderson's words, it there was one thing he could do well, it was agree. Then he noticed his friend's eyes dart to the mute servant whose green eyes were boring into them. Wiley leaned in as Anderson lowered his voice, nodding still. Now that Anderson mentioned it, there was something unsettling about the young man. His unnerving gaze, perhaps? He almost looked....hungry. His first instinct was to believe that the servants had been pressed into service and had no choice in the matter, but he trusted Anderson's judgement.

They set off down the halls, ultimately finding their way to the kitchen in the strange maze of a building. Wiley wondered if they'd ever find their way back to their quarters at this rate? He nibbled pensively on the thumb nail of his left hand as they walked, trying and failing to memorize their path.

The kitchen looked quite sorry. It positively reeked with the aroma of disuse. Maybe that was why the servant had hungry eyes. "I'll check the pantry." He said, turning to one corner of the room. Inside there was quite an amount of food, so much that he was dazzled by it. Tinned meats and bread and cheese and barrels of vegetables. "Saints alive, take a look at all this!" he said, poking his head out of the pantry just in time to see Anderson slice the meat of his hand open.

He let out a sort of choked sound of mixed surprise and sympathy. "Are you alright?" Was all he managed to get out at first. Well, of course not, he was bleeding! Wiley took a deep breath to reorient himself and reached up to grab his tie, perhaps in the hope to mop up the blood with, only to remember that he lost said article of clothing in the scuffle he'd had with Drake. Then his hand lifted to his collar, but that was starched and wouldn't do a good job of mopping up blood.

"I'll see if there's a rag for your to wrap that up with." He announced as he began to go through some of the surrounding drawers until he found a clean looking length of cloth. "Ah, here we are!" He cried out, holding up the cloth like a flag. "This should do the trick!" He hurried back over to the man and reached out to wrap his hand before suddenly recoiling. He wasn't sure if Anderson would mind if he touched him. His wide eyes flicked upwards, either seeking approval or admonishment.

When Anderson's eyes flicked to him, that fierce green gaze, he immediately and instinctively looked down at the ground. They were murmuring now too low for him to hear them. It didn't stop him from following them, however, as they took off. They were easy to track wile staying out of sight. They were headed towards the kitchen as far as he'd been able to glean, but they were doing a poor job of it. If they'd only asked him he could have shown them straight there. Usually at least half of the guests seemed to trust him immediately, so this was a strange turn of events for him. Perhaps that was the purpose of Drake's constant brutalization. It made them think of him as a victim as well. He sucked on his bottom lip, unwilling to admit that perhaps Drake had been right about all that.

When the humans finally, finally made it to the kitchen he settled down outside the door, where they wouldn't see him unless they stuck their heads out of the door they'd just went through. He sank down until he was sitting, his knees bent and his arms resting on them.