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The Manor

What is the truth behind this place..?

0 · 259 views · located in Rose Manor

a character in “Winter Rose: the garden of a wish...”, as played by Marionette

Description

Exterior:
Rose Manor is made of dark brick and wood with a black-shingled roof, its architecture reminiscent of the Gothic Revival. The curling trim on the roof's edge almost gives it the look of a gingerbread house. Judging by the windows, there are three floors, the third of which is the attic. There is a small front porch, but besides the house itself, there are very few outdoor fixtures.

There is a yard around the back of the house. In it, there is a mostly-dead garden (these plants are not so lucky as the roses; only a few evergreen shrubs possess leaves). There is also a rather small pond -- about seven or eight feet in diameter -- which is covered with a thin layer of ice.

A ring of tall, thick rose bushes surrounds the perimeter. From the ground, one cannot see beyond them. Despite the winter weather, these crimson roses are in full bloom. The briers are choked tightly together. Anytime that some are cut away, more seem to spring back in their place.


First Floor:

Entrance Hall:
A spacious and well-decorated room. The walls are lined with portraits, and potted plants and statues grace ornate end tables.

This floor is split level; a staircase on each side of the hall leads to an upper layer lined with doors. This upper layer is a mere walkway; it is not really a room in and of itself. Railing prevents one from falling to the bottom layer, but one can easily lean over the rails to see what’s going on below.

Exits: Seven on upper layer; six on lower layer

Library:
The library is lined with bookshelves that extend from floor to ceiling. The floor is draped with a floral-patterned rug. Several leather-upholstered chairs and a matching sofa sit in the center of the room.

Exits: Two

So begins...

The Manor's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Manor
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Sheer snow sparkled on every surface, and the air bit at the skin of anyone not dressed for the occasion. A handful of guests lay in a neat row just beyond the door of an antiquated manor. Their faces were still as those of the dead, but these few languished in the palm of sleep instead. Death's cousin was gentle, transitory, and soon they would stir. The chime of a bell pierced the air, or perhaps it only pierced their minds.

The manor waited. Windows studded walls of brick and wood, and when the light hit, they gleamed like so many dark eyes. Its mouth, the door, remained closed -- for now.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jenna Grant Character Portrait: The Manor Character Portrait: Alessandro Corvi Character Portrait: Mark Sanchez
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#, as written by Jynxii
Jenna Grant


The soft ringing of her alarm clock woke her up. Wait, no... that wasn't her alarm... That was some sort of bell... What on Earth were the neighbors doing with a bell at this hour? Why is it so cold? Jenna slowly sat up from her horizontal position, blinking against the blinding glare of the light against the snow. What the..? Reaching to her side, she was relieved to find her Coach purse. Absorbed in finding her sunglasses to shield her eyes from the bright sun reflecting off the stark white of the snow, Jenna did not even notice the bodies laying beside her. Digging through her medium sized purse, she finally found the pair of large black glasses she was looking for. Upon placing them over her eyes, she let out a content sigh. Much bett-- "OH MY GOD! Jesus Christ, are you alright?!" Jenna had noticed the bodies now.

Immediately she shifted over on her side to place herself over the body closest to her. "Hello? Can you hear me?" He looked dead. Fear gripped her insides and gave them a nasty twist. She reached over him, to place both hands on his shoulders and gently tried to shake him. "Oh, God, don't be dead. Please don't be dead." Surprisingly, through her panic, she was not on the verge of tears or hysteria. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remained calm, cool, and collect. She knew first-aid, so there was no reason to panic. Even still, she reached into her purse and looked as quickly as she could for her iPhone 5. Upon finding it, she turned it on and was about to dial 911, when she noticed that the screen looked funny. As if a TV had been turned on, but the cable had been shut off. White noise radiated from the device. Confused, she turned it off and back on again; only to get the same result. "Are you kidding me?" Tossing the phone back into her purse, she returned her attention to the man beside her. Checking his pulse, she easily found a heartbeat, and now that she had calmed down a little, also noticed he was breathing just fine.

Letting out of breath of relief, she looked to the other bodies and noticed that they, too, were breathing. Able to calm her heartbeat now, she turned her attention to her surroundings. Against the pale of the snow, roses bloomed in vibrant color. Completely confused now, Jenna slowly pulled herself into a standing position. Curiously walking over to the bushes, she peered past the beautiful buds and noticed that the thorns were weaved together so tightly it would be impossible to pass through. Looking around her in a 360 degree turn, she found that the roses were endless. Just beyond the roses, if she stood on her tip toes, were tall pines but they seemed impossible to get to.

Convinced that she was either dreaming or in some twisted version of a Saw game, Jenna decided her best bet was to first and foremost; get out of this damned cold. Her red peacoat was soaked from laying in the snow. Realizing that it was quite cold now, due to being wet and due to the surrounding snowfall, Jenna decided that she'd really like to get warm. Now, her mother always told her not to talk to strangers, but as a news reporter, that's pretty much all she ever did. Therefore, she figured that even though this house was a stranger to her; it could potentially keep her from catching a nasty cold that would lay her out of work for at least three days.

She started for the door, but stopped. She couldn't leave the others just laying out in the cold. With a moral block, she sighed. Walking back over to the other bodies, she again tried to wake them up. As she gently shook them once more, she decided that if they did not wake this time; she would drag them in.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jenna Grant Character Portrait: The Manor Character Portrait: Mark Sanchez
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Mark began by opening his eyes and allowing all the raw light to pour in and blind him, causing the reaction of immediately recoiling and jumping to his feet as he rubbed his eyes and temple with his hand, he looked around and was understandably shocked by his surroundings, this was not the tax department in which he had been carrying out his social service, this was something else and alien to his person.

Snow was a stranger to him, he got up visibly shaken by this unexpeced turn in his life and carefully analyzed his surroundings, some things stood out to him first of them all was the apparent fact that he was not in his previous location and that something was grimly amiss, he knew that the country of the north had snow but everything he had heard pointed to this being an occurrence that would only present itself on winter, his last memory was not of that season.

Must be something I ate

Second was the fact of the roses, never in his life had he seen them in such quantities, he had walked into stores and gardens in his lifetime to be sure but all those previous experiences paled by comparison of magnitude, the only things that did not immediately sport roses or snow were that towering structure in front of him, a manor of some sort, it did not share any similarities to the cabins that he was accustomed to, all he knew of such places were derived of trips with family and friends to the mexican forests in which they huddled together alongside the fire and drank, ate meat, played and told a horror story or two.

This manor was a building of a regal nature with dark stones making the bulk of its foundations and a gothic style alike the churches that the Mexican knew all too well, he kept looking to its roof to see if he could spot a gargoyle or some other vantage point to which he could climb, even with the snow he was sure footed and had strong enduring limbs from a youth spent in sweat and sun, yet despite this he could not see any rewards from climbing the outside of the house if he had not tried yet the inside, he noticed the people lying around him then and felt a cold slither in his back, something of ill portent was at work here, his eyes drifted immediately to the woman who was standing, being rather intimate with women in situations of high stress the Mexican lifted his hands showing his harmless disposition and said slowly and loudly "Where are we?" he backed away from her in a steady calm demeanor, while she looked harmless,but his careless relatives were dead

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jenna Grant Character Portrait: The Manor Character Portrait: Alessandro Corvi Character Portrait: Mark Sanchez
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#, as written by Ion
Sometimes, his mind was a symphony even when he slept. The notes of a fugue, gentle and lilting, were his companions this night, captured in the clear glass prism of dream as undulating color-sounds, drifting across what might have been a landscape, had it contained any geographical features whatsoever. It didn’t and it wasn’t, but in the amicable embrace of sleep, he didn’t think to wonder at that, and simply accepted it. He had the vague notion that he was waiting for something, though he knew not what, and floated what may count as forward, seeking after the cause of the nameless pull in the heart that this version of him did not possess.

The music grew louder as the maestro (as he was sometimes called here, and somewhere else he could not remember) moved, but to his sensitive ears, there was an irregularity, an imperfection, something that did not belong. At first, he tried to ignore it, resolving that surely it would flee in its own time, but as the hours or seconds or years drew onward, it became only more insistent, a little niggle somewhere in the back of his mind that pressed upon his senses like warm cotton, stifling the other instruments one by one until it was distinct, the thin lines of a silver bell-chime.

But why was it here?

Hello? Can you hear me? A voice somehow broke into his sanctuary, and it was no tuneful aria. Indeed, the cadence was soft, as though distant, but the undertones of panic were clear even so. Harsh against the imminent, inexorable peace that came from the fugue, it seemed to match more closely the sibilant but discordant chiming. He did not understand, but he knew that understanding was not achieved without investigation, and so he moved again, this time seeking those things which had disturbed his internal orchestra.

Alessandro sat up suddenly, pulling in a lungful of sharply-chilled air. The abrupt motion made him dizzy, and though one gloved hand braced him against the yielding ground, the other rose to his forehead, rubbing at his temple as he blinked, trying to clear his vision and allow his eyes to adjust to the stark brightness of what appeared to be… snow? Yes, surely. A field full of newly-fallen snow. And a house a short distance away. “What… on earth?” he murmured softly, turning his head to look around further. There was a woman, gently shaking another prone form of some kind, but then she stood, and a man entered his visual field as well, speaking slowly and at volume enough even to be heard.

Deciding that this was as good a time as any, Alessandro pushed himself to his feet, gathering his long legs under him a bit awkwardly before he was able to properly stand. He still felt a bit woozy, but of greater concern was his location. Wracking his brain, he decided that the last thing he could remember was walking to the concert hall, having just exited the cab that dropped him about a block away to avoid the myriad of cars trying to park. Not for him, of course; there was a basketball game occurring in the sporting complex across the street.

How was it that he remembered a trivial detail like that, but nothing afterward? At first, he thought he might have been attacked or knocked out violently, but he was in no pain and seemed to be free of injury. He doubted he’d been dosed with chloroform or something similar, but it seemed the only plausible explanation. Either that, or he was dreaming. It was certainly surreal enough to be one of his dreams, but in this as with life it was best to go along with events and see what happened.

“A good question,” he agreed mildly. “And another: do either of you remember how it is we came to be here?” He glanced towards the small manse. Perhaps someone in there would know, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to approach it just yet.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jenna Grant Character Portrait: Gabriella Rocha Character Portrait: The Manor Character Portrait: Alessandro Corvi Character Portrait: Mark Sanchez
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#, as written by Celedia
Gabriella Rocha


Hazy yet rapidly flashing lights in an assortment of colors danced against a black background. It was like being in a club but not. There was no music, no throbbing vibration of bass beating against her skin and though the euphoria overriding her senses seemed real enough, it didn’t have that chemical overtone that she was used to experiencing. Not shrooms, not E… What was she feeling? Was this a dream?

The vibrant hues disappeared as she lurched back into consciousness but the light was brighter than she remembered. A brilliantly white backdrop replaced the shadowy environment from her unconscious or subconscious thoughts, whichever they had been and the first sounds that wormed their ways into her ears were… Voices?

Blinking rapidly, she let herself lay upon the ground for a minute to gather her bearings. She wasn’t worried at all. In fact, she had woken in strange places often enough that it didn’t seem odd to be appear in a strange place with no memory of the past few hours and no recollection of ever meeting the people that were now hovering around her.

Once she was sure that she wasn’t about to throw up or pass out, she slipped a hand behind her and pushed herself up into a sitting position only to realize that the palm she had placed upon the ground was freezing and wet. She jerked her hand up close to her face, frowning at the implications as snow melted from her fingertips and only then did she truly begin to take in her surroundings.

A large building loomed in front of her. She was in a yard. Whose yard?

Her vision shifted, now focusing more intently on the three people that were up and moving about. None of them looked like the sort of people she usually hung around and even more confusing was that none of them appeared to be club goers. No one was dressed to impress… Well, at least the sort of dress to impress that mingled with hot sweaty bodies dancing to house or techno music so perhaps she was still in a dream? Leaning down, she pinched her bare calf between thumb and forefinger and winced as the pain lanced through her.

If this was a dream it sucked.

Gabriella pushed herself to her feet, dusting the snow from her skin and clothing as she made her way passed the three strangers whom she still hadn’t spoken a word to yet. Rose bushes hedged them in and she couldn’t see over them nor through them and a look in each direction told her that they continued on around the entire yard. Pine trees swayed silently beyond them but there was no way to reach the nearest evergreen without somehow first pushing passed the briars.

“This is a bunch of bullshit…” She grumbled to herself, pulling her hood up over her chocolate-hued locks and zipping her sweatshirt to ward off the cold as she set off towards the nearest bush to investigate. Thoughts of kidnapping or the Saw movies never entering her mind as she reached out to pluck one of the crimson blooms from its thorny housing. Simple curiosity had taken over now.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jenna Grant Character Portrait: Gabriella Rocha Character Portrait: The Manor Character Portrait: Alessandro Corvi Character Portrait: Mark Sanchez
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As the four guests awoke, one remained on the ground: a youth, thin and frail, his pallor accentuated by the snow. Emmet didn't stir yet, but with some attention, one might notice the slow rise and fall of his chest. A clunky carpet bag was splayed across him.

With a soft, organic snap, the blossom fell into Gabriella's grasp. This was the only answer to her curiosity. The petals were like silk, and fragrance clung to them. All around the strangers, the scent of roses mingled with the crispness of ice. The contrast announced itself with each breath.

Beyond them, the house sat as quietly as the roses. The door and windows remained shut, and the place spoke of overwhelming silence. No bird sang, and even the sunlight seemed drained of life. The sun itself hid behind the clouds, but the level of brightness indicated morning, perhaps, if not afternoon. It dimmed and brightened as the clouds shifted in the sky. At the ground level, though, there was no wind. All was still.

Yet the shutters had not been closed, and if one watched closely, a faint glow flickered behind the windowpanes. How much light or what kind was hard to judge in the daylight. Even so, it was the first sign -- the only sign -- of life.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jenna Grant Character Portrait: Gabriella Rocha Character Portrait: The Manor Character Portrait: Alessandro Corvi Character Portrait: Mark Sanchez
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#, as written by Celedia
Gabriella Rocha



So the rose broke off as a rose should do. The thorns didn’t turn into tentacles that drew her towards a maw that manifested in the bushes and they didn’t suddenly grow, spiking through her fingertips like mini swords. Conclusion? She still didn’t think it was a dream.

Just some sort of fucked up reality.

God, I need a drink…. She mused as she flicked off all of the thorns on the perfect bloom, shortening the stem so she could tuck it behind her right ear and after her new accessory was in place she began digging through her purse for something, still oblivious to those that stood around the front yard. They had lapsed into silence anyway so perhaps they had realized that shit was going crazy too.

Her hand clasped around a thin silver flask and the top came off easily enough, allowing her to put the spout to her painted lips and take three long draws from its contents. The taste of Everclear always made her wince and she plugged the liquor back up, stowing it for when she needed another shot of liquid courage. Her eyes were clear today and their normal hazel had changed to a near-emerald color. They shifted from person to person, settling on them once again as she tried to figure out what they were doing here with her in this strange place.

Not one for beating around the bush, she stepped up between the three of them, forcing their attention to her for a moment as her eyes then settled upon the lone figure still lying upon the snowy ground. “I’m Gabriella. Gabi. I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing here but I am going to try to get warm.” Jabbing a finger at the manor that loomed before them she wasted no time for return introductions but still she paused, her gaze continually falling back to the blond youth nestled in the snow. God, how she hated being left behind. It happened to her a few times. Partied too hard, took a few too many pills and suddenly she was comatose outside and she ended up waking a few hours later nearly frostbitten or dehydrated depending on the weather.

She sighed forcibly, gathering what she assumed was the young man’s carpet bag and hefting it over her shoulder before she leaned over, curling a small hand around his ankle. No one else was moving him, right? And it wasn’t like she could lift anything much less a person, no matter how small they were.

“Let’s go, blondie…” She muttered as she moved, walking up the trio of stairs that led to the small front porch. The poor youth suffered from her poor planning with his head bumping soundly against every stair on her ascent but hey… At least she was trying to help, right?

Her free hand went to the door, rapping thrice and she waited a full minute for a reply before trying the doorknob, giving it a quick twist as she called out, “Hello?! Is anyone home?”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gabriella Rocha Character Portrait: The Manor Character Portrait: Alessandro Corvi Character Portrait: Mark Sanchez
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The door tilted inward with a drawn out creak, and the house exhaled lukewarm air. The interior was not quite toasty, but it was certainly warmer than standing around in the snow. At the end of the hall lay a fireplace -- and a fresh fire. Paper and kindling were still visible on the grate; tiny flames had just begun to dance among them. Plenty of kindling and several logs sat in a basket nearby. A rich burgundy rug was thrown over the wooden floor, and a few stuffed chairs were arranged around the fireplace.

The walls of the entrance hall were lined with candle sconces, all burning away. Portraits hung between them -- stern gentlemen and cold-eyed ladies in fashion centuries old. Potted plants green with life sat in vases on ornate end tables. Small statues accompanied them, all classical busts, pale and flowing with organic detail. Five doors were immediately visible: two on the left wall, two on the far wall, and one on the right wall. Their layout was symmetrical -- the doors on the far wall were spaced equally on either side of the fireplace, and the closest doors on the left and right mirrored one another. Only the further door on the left was lonely; the space on the right side where there might have been a door was instead home to another painting.

On either side of the room, placed as symmetrically as the doors, a staircase led to a second level. Looking up, one could see the railing which encircled it. This upper section functioned as a hallway; from it sprang seven more doors.