Setting
"Mayor!" he called quietly. Mayor was the eldest of the House Ghouls, to his knowledge, and her arrival remained a mystery to him and her both.
"Yes?" he heard her quiet voice.
"Come fetch me when the carriages pull up, I can't bear to wait like this any longer." Love smiled at her, walking back through the door and into the dim hallway. At first, when he became the Master of the House, the creaks, moans, howls and screams of the mysterious creatures had frightened him. Now, there was something comforting to never have to sit and listen to nothing but your own breathing.
As Florence patted her back, she thought about whether or not her parents had felt sorrow at losing her, nearly a century and a decade ago. The other ghoul's cries increased, and Florence rubbed her back soothingly.
"Hush," she murmured. "I'm sure the wee lambs will be fine, just fine, with your husband there for them."
A small smile appeared on Florence's face as her sobs subsided into child-like sniffles. Suddenly, the house grew louder with the sound of the house creatures's excitement. Florence's face turned stoic once more, and she rose up to her full height, as if anticipating something. The Wanderers had arrived.
((@yeastyy- I hope you don't mind that I've made up an NPC ghoul and that I fast forwarded to the arrival of the Wanderers! If it's a problem, I will edit my post as soon as possible.))
"Love, they've arrived..." Mayor stood shyly in the doorway of one of the smaller dining rooms where Love sat quietly.
"So it seems," he nodded, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips, "The House is getting quite excited... I can feel it..." he stood, brushing off his pants and straightening his blazer, "How do I look?"
"The same..." Mayor said in a dreary tone, her words barely above a whisper.
"Let's go meet them then, shall we?" Love mustered his straightest posture, then began to strut down the hallway with Mayor floating at a distance behind him. He let his hand slide across the wall, ducking through secret passage ways and avoiding rooms and hallways with the more dangerous creatures lurking.
As he finally entered the main hallway overlooking the main entrance, he began shooing away some of the creatures. "We don't want to scare them right away!" he pouted as some of the more stubborn ghouls and creatures refused to move. He heard the sound of mottled conversation past the door, and panic rose inside of him,
"Shoo! Shoo!" he waved his arms, finally convincing them to recede into the shadows. He folded his hands pleasantly over his torso, practicing his greetings. He had done this hundreds of times before, but it never lost it's excitement.
He heard as one brave Wanderer tried to open the wide front doors with no success. He smiled, rubbing the railing which he was looking over, "Alright, let's do this..." he whispered to the house. With a wave of his hands, the gas lanterns lining the walls were extinguished, and the massive front doors creaked open.
"Welcome!" Love mustered his loudest voice, "To the House of the Wanderers!"
But just as the bubblegum coloured hair tumbled freely down her back, the doors opened to reveal a rather handsome ginger young man. Ellabelle's hair stopped just past her hips, but the blue and pink hair still bounced ever so slightly, and a strand or two fell in her face. People always said her hair looked prettier like this, but she just thought it was a pain and a nuisance, and now she couldn't really tie it back up without seeming rude to the young man who appeared to be master of the house. She looked up at him through lowered eyelids, blushing from the embarrassment of her hair and the warm breeze flowing by her. Her lids were lowered, as she was tired from the journey to the mansion, and her hair was blowing in the wind a little. God this was an awkward situation, she was total mess. Luckily she hadn't eaten too much on the way, and her bare belly wasn't too bulgy. She didn't realise it, but Ellabelle was looking really stunning, but she thought she looked horrid,
Ellabelle smiled softly at the House Master, shy and unsure of what was ahead. She adjusted the straps on her bikini top, and spoke up. "Hi. So... You're the master of the house then?" She smiled as wide as she could, she was kinda scared and shy of what was going to happen next, or what she might face in the house. She hadn't talked to any of the wanderers yet, so it was going to be slightly harder to make alliances, if they were needed, but there was always the ghouls and ghosts she'd heard about. Ellabelle scratched her arm awkwardly, already feeling the oncoming pull of the full moon arriving in a few days. She was going to be itching a lot over the next few days. But she knew this whole ordeal was gonna take a lot longer.
There was one that caught her eye, a small, blonde girl from the West, who looked absolutely terrified. Florence would have to say hello sometime, and see if she'd heard anything about Julian. There was a rather heavy silence as Love finished his opening words. Florence hated this period of time, the silence even made her feel uncomfortable. The girl with the bright pink hair played with the straps of her bikini, and she opened her mouth to speak. Florence's eyes widened. She did not remember ever seeing a Wanderer brave enough to actually speak as soon as they got to the mansion.
"So... you're the master of the house, then?" she asked.
Florence nearly smiled at the casual tone of her voice. She'd have to keep her eye on this one.
Back at the Underground province everybody thought less of Alucard, the one reason why? Compassion Alucards people are supposed to be void of it. Phrases like "Exploit the weak to become strong" "The one who loves the least controls the most" " No one else matters but you and you're people" come up in his mind as those are the phrases that have drilled into the minds of so many of his people. However regardless of what his teachers and superiors said to him about having no empathy, no emotion, no compassion, he retained those feelings. The people of his province would say "A real vampire is born without feelings of compassion" but Alucard was living proof that regardless of what his teachers, his parents, or the elders say Vampires can have emotion and he was shunned for it. Shunned for refusing to accept the teachings of his people and retaining a stat of mind that was supposedly unfit for a vampire. Even upon being chosen to be a wanderer no one was happy Alucard was chosen. The underground province has had every single participant come back but since Alucard was chosen everyone believes that this will be their first to not, and everyone of his province wonders why he was chosen. 'Maybe they are right, maybe I don't belong here' Alucard thought.
"Welcome! To the House of the Wanderers!" A loud voice interrupted Alucard's thoughts. Then another voice "Hi. So... You're the master of the house then?" Alucard looks up again and says in a quiet voice "And so it begins"
"Hi. So... You're the Master of the House then?" she said. Love looked over to Mayor, then they both looked down.
"My my! You are a brave little Wanderer, aren't you? Quite bold of you to speak up so soon!" Love looked over his shoulder, spotting Florence, one of the tamer house ghouls. "Florence! Come join Mayor and I, the Wanderers are looking more interesting than usual this year!" he beckoned, then turned to look back down at everyone. Some looked more timid than others, and some looked as if they were ready for whatever was ahead.
"Well, I'm Love, Master of this glorious House!" he beamed, "This is Mayor, my personal house ghoul! And Florence, another house ghoul! Don't tell the others, but..." he made a dramatic motion, covering his lips and speaking as if every ghoul in the house wasn't behind him, "They are my personal favorites. The others are a bit rowdy or gloomy, but don't worry if you run into these two!" he motioned to the Wanderers, "Now, you should all introduce yourselves! Starting with the brave Norhterner!" he pointed to Ellabelle, leaning in closer.
Even now she couldn't believe she'd been chosen to become a Wanderer. Yet, here she was crossing her arms, in front of the House of the Wanderers, attempting to look more stubborn and brave, two traits of which she was not. She was not only trying to look braver, and more stubborn, but she was also trying to make the trembling appear less obvious.
Ally flinches, as the doors to the house open. Out came a ginger haired boy, most referred to as the Master of the House.
"Welcome, To the House of the Wanderers!"
Ally only starred in return, still filled with fear, and disbelief. "So... you're the master of the house, then?" She looked over at the Northerner, who had been the one to ask the question.
"My my! You are a brave little Wanderer, aren't you? Quite bold of you to speak up so soon!" The Master of the House boomed, as he looked over his shoulder, spotting one of the house ghouls. "Florence! Come join Mayor and I, the Wanderers are looking more interesting than usual this year! Well, I'm Love, Master of this glorious House! This is Mayor, my personal house ghoul! And Florence, another house ghoul! Don't tell the others, but... They are my personal favorites. The others are a bit rowdy or gloomy, but don't worry if you run into these two! Now, you should all introduce yourselves! Starting with the brave Northerner!"
Ally looked over at the Northerner, who had bright amber eyes, and bubblegum colored hair.
(OOC: I said fishy features because western provincers usually have gills and stuff, is Ally an exception?)
The text Dorian held fell upon his face as he was no longer focused enough to read. He inhaled deeply into the yellowed pages. Honest to god, he had been holding it in all day. But as the time drew nearer, the energy within the House was just enough to tick him off.
Dorian flung the book at the study's window in frustration. The glass shattered upon impact and the book sailed out into the open air outside the House. As much as it satisfied him to destroy the window, it quite possibly annoyed him even more when the glass pane pieced itself back together and the book materialized in its original spot on the study's bookshelves. Being dead meant holding little significance over the world outside the House. Often Dorian would glance outside and imagine taking off one day to blaze his own warpath.
With an exasperated huff he pushed himself up from his wooden seat. Standing in the stuffy study room with a corona of window-filtered sunlight striking his back, Dorian felt the House. All its pipes and cracks and floorboards. And the master nervous to greet the Wanderers.
Sooner than expected, the time was at hand. Dorian was in a small alcove when he heard Love at the House entrance greeting the Wanderers. Dorian himself wandered to one of the windows overlooking the front yard. "Shut it!" he barked at some whiny ghoul behind him and tried to listen to the exchange happening below.
Mayor and Florence had come down to greet the newcomers as well, and Love introduced them as among his favourites within the house. Dorian scoffed. He wouldn't count Mayor or Florence among his enemies, but he certainly did not see them as having much use above being obstacles.
Most notable of the Wanderers would have to be one Northerner with a positively ridiculous mop of annoying neon hair which she fumbled with excessively. For some reason she thought it necessary to show off her wolf form and seemed quite proud of herself. Dorian sneered and opened the window.
"Filthy dogs stay outside!" Dorian jeered from the second floor. "Be good and go dig yourself a lavatory in the gardens."
"Filthy dogs stay outside! Be good and go dig yourself a lavatory in the gardens." he taunted from above. Love pulled uncomfortably at his shirt collar.
"Ah, Dorian! How nice of you to show yourself so soon!" Love's smile faltered as he tried to stay positive. Although he was the Master of the House, there were some creatures within that still frightened him and did not obey his rule- Dorian was one of them. He looked towards the group,
"I would keep my distance from him if I were you..." he lowered his voice, clapping his hands together than looking back up to Dorian, "What a lovely group we have this year, yes?"
He honestly couldn't imagine having grown up where the only roof over his head had been a canopy of leaves or, if that failed, a cave or similar shelter from the elements. The very idea of living in that- that monstrosity filled him with almost as much anxiety as the grand reveal some days ago that he had been chosen as the Woodland Province's next Wanderer. Or sacrifice. To his people, the two terms might as well have been synonymous. Perhaps that was why he wasn't doing his best to seem fearless and willing like the others around her were attempting or succeeding at. Why should he? Die here, survive, his former life was over, wasn't it, so why worry about appearances?
Oren shifted his stance as the moans and wails from within the House of the Wanderers slowly faded away, glad at least for the greenery, however artificially placed and disturbingly neat, surrounding the building. Without the distraction of the ominous noise from inside, he allowed himself a moment to take a quick survey of those surrounding him. There was a young lady wearing far too little fiddling with her disturbingly bright two-tone hair. Another boy with thick layers of dark colored clothing, almost as if to contrast the previous girl, had wandered off on his own and was lurking in the shadows cast by the house. There were a few others, enough to represent each Province, waiting just as anxiously as himself, but attempting to mask it.
They all looked weird. Incredibly weird with their nice clothing and perfectly tamed hair. Then again, he was probably an oddity himself, or so he'd learned from the few foreigners that he'd met until now. His long, brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail to disguise its tangled mess, his clothes were well-worn and practical, brown trousers stopping just at his knee to expose the gradual transformation of human legs into that of a goat's, fur the same color as his hair and the scruff on his face. He shifted once more on cloven hooves, eyes returning to the house's front door. Yes, they were all probably freaks to one another, as far as looks went, or maybe not. Maybe he was the only one who had been so sheltered and was thus perturbed by the people around him. Either way.
His musings of his own freak-of-nature status were cut short as the front door swung open.
"Welcome! To the House of the Wanderers!" Oren could only blink in reply, trying to take in the sight before him. There was a man, gazing expectantly at them as if he were expecting something. Well, he and his ethereal companion(Oren had no explanation for her and quickly decided that it would quickly become tedious if he were amazed by every little thing that was weird here) would be sorely disappointed. Only silence ensued until the brightly colored girl spoke up, beaming brightly as she guessed at who the odd man was.
The girl had been, as it turned out, absolutely correct. Really? That young man was the Master of the House of the Wanderers? Oren had assumed it would be some hardened old man, but, then again, they never did get any information about the House in the Woodland Province, the very place almost a taboo to discuss. After introducing himself, he went on to speak for two women or ghosts or whatever they were before asking them to introduce themselves.
The scantily-clad girl spoke up first, all smiles that didn't seem to quite fit the situation in Oren's mind, and then, out of all things, turned into a wolf. Oren staggered at the sight of the transformation, cloven hooves taking a step or two back. He'd heard stories of course, but someone had just turned into a wolf in front of him. A wolf! And she was just sitting there, pleased as could be. What was his life coming to?
"Filthy dogs stay outside! Be good and go dig yourself a lavatory in the gardens." Oren felt rather pleased with himself that he didn't jump at the sudden voice emanating from one of the upstairs windows. Apparently not all of the ghouls were as well-mannered as the Master's companions. The little note to stay away from him was rather unnecessary, Oren decided, but probably impossible. Sneaking a glance at the man or ghoul or whatever in the window, he was given the distinct impression that it wasn't so much keeping your distance that you had to worry about so much as hoping that he decided to leave you alone. Wonderful.
Of course, Love never did bet with Dorian on the groups that came to the House. But it was Dorian's personal mission to make Love seem less gracious than he was always trying to be. It always unnerved him that this master was so soft with the contestants. In earlier years, Dorian had really pushed Love, wanting him to become a much more harsh master. A few times he possibly pushed him too far.
Ellabelle the mutt-girl gave him a bit of a glower. She did not seem all too affected by his jab at her race. This was good, of course. No use in having anyone that broke too easily.
"Perhaps the apparent prep boy would then be willing to behave for headmaster, who appears not to be pleased, but seeing as you mind so much..." So the pup would stand up for itself. It was of no importance, simply a dumb animal yipping at a distraction.
Dorian laughed freely, placing his hands behind his back and leaning just a further bit outside the window. "My dear, the master does not dictate how I behave. But you being so considerate as to shed your dog skin, how can I continue being so rude?"
Ellabelle then returned to her previous form. Dorian cocked an eyebrow at her oh-so-kind gesture, and smiled in response to her unprompted advise on the superiority of a canine's bite over the constitution of a ghoul. Dear weary travelers, may you expect dog meat on the menu some time soon.
Ally watched as the Northerner, Ellabelle, introduced herself. She seemed pretty nice, and Ally considered making allies with her. She was pretty sure most of the people here didn't see teaming up with a Westerner as a bonus, but more as a minus. If so, Ellabelle was probably the one who didn't see it so much as a downgrade.
Ally flinched, as she heard one of the house ghouls shout down at them. "Filthy dogs stay outside!" He jeered. "Be good and go dig yourself a lavatory in the gardens." Right then and there, Ally knew to keep her distance from that one ghoul. The Master of the House, Love, seemed displeased by this 'Dorian' character. She would be too.
"Yes, Love, a splendid group indeed. You want to bet again on which one dies first?"
Ally ignored that remark.
She looked back over at Ellabelle, and watched as she turned back to human form, and asked who was going to introduce themselves next.
She looked around at the Wanderers, who were all looking at each other warily. Florence was well acquainted with that look. Those were calculating eyes, eyes that were assessing every single competitor. They were not just looking at each other, they were slowly thinking about who could be their most valuable ally. The worst part though, to Florence, was when their alliances all dissolved, and they were left to face each other.
Florence's graveness was replaced by shock as Dorian asked if they'd like to bet on who would die first. Her eyes widened, and she whirled around to look at Dorian. She knew that Dorian had been placing bets for quite some time, but she never expected him to tell every Wanderer that. "Dorian," she called out, with some trepidation. "Perhaps you'd like to frighten the new Wanderers at another time? After all, they do need to finish introducing themselves, and I'm sure they'd like to go inside soon." She flinched as she waited for Dorian to make a vicious remark, but then straightened her back again.
Then, Florence, spoke up, and he could practically feel all the hostility in the air.
Love attempted to fix the tension, opening his arms wide, "Now, now, no need to provoke anyone! Thank you , Florence! We haven't finished our introductions! Let us continue them inside, I'm sure you've all been itching to see what lies within this mysterious house!" he beckoned for everyone to step inside the wide open doors. With a flick of his wrist, the lanterns on the wall reignited themselves. He looked back up to the window where Dorian sat, nervously, then turned and walked into the house with the rest.
"This may turn ugly sooner than I want," he thought, biting his lip, "Pity, they seem like such lovely people."
The wolf girl gave the animal equivalent of a smirk, and even if Oren hadn't recognized the expression her sneering words as she transformed back into a human( a sight that was just as disturbing if not as surprising as her original transformation) certainly sealed the deal. Then, as if she hadn't just managed to transform between two species in as many minutes, she continued talking, a casual threat slipping from her mouth with a mocking tone. A frown pulled at Oren's lips. Was this sort of behavior typical from other Provinces? Threats and apparently too much pride were not qualities deemed very acceptable in the Woodland Province. He felt a pang for his homeland then, even if he had been a stranger there for ages. At least that was familiar and people were predictable. Here and now, it was more like waiting for someone to slip and all Hell to break loose.
The ghoul- Dorian, Oren's mind supplied- was leaning further out the window now and there was a flash of recognition in his mind that quickly flickered away. Something about that face and the name attached to it- Dorian Cairr Wildereth… Why did that sound so utterly familiar? Well, if he survived long enough at the house, perhaps he'd figure it out. Either that or he'd simply stop caring, which seemed like the safe thing to do. Everything was silent now with the ghouls' bantering having slowly dissipated and no Wanderer's were rushing to introduce themselves. So, the Master finally speaking up seemed like a break in the tension of the moment, a sudden shift in tone.
"See, all better! Now, we can continue our lovely introductions inside! I'm sure you've all been itching to see what lies within this mysterious house!" Itching to see what was inside? Nothing was further from the truth. A creeping feeling of being trapped like a rabbit in a snare began to take over Oren for the moment because despite the wide open doors and the lanterns flickering to life, the house looked incredibly tiny and unappealing. He was expected to go in there, into too small spaces and cluttered rooms with furniture that was probably more ornamental than functional. He took a few steps closer to the house, trailing behind the others as they entered the mansion, but lingered at the doorway, reluctant to take the final step inside.
((OOC: Sorry this is so short, I just thought that I ought to try to start this back up?))
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