Castle Chudders - Because Everyone needs R&R
Wed Jul 29 14:33:18 2009
--[ Chudevic Castle(#2552RJ) ]--------------------------------[ Carpania ]----
The Great Hall of Castle Chudders is about a hundred feet long,
lighted by Gothic windows set high, and sconced torches. A carpet that
would cover the entire footprint of a small townhouse sits in the
centre of the room, making an island on which a vast table is set.
Around the walls there are hangings and paintings, and here and there
installations of Classical Art, mostly of the clothed variety.
Beatrice, Eva, Kincaid, Miranda, Scott, Taleyn, and Vladimir are here.
--[ lhelp ]------------------------------------------[ Exits: S W U D X1 ]----
Beatrice and the others arrive at the courtyard when it is, of course, falling dark with a thunderstorm threatening in the sky. This still puts the weather as cheerier than Weirmonken's, however. After Benedict's vanished to see about... something, Beatrice glances around watchfully, waiting for the inevitable servants to show up. "Oh, another thing," she reminds Scott. "Mind the stairs. And the cellars. And... well, just mind everything."
Eva is somewhere near "And closets."
Scott looks around with interest. "This place isn't as bad as you made it sound. It's rather cheery, actually." He hooks his thumbs into his belt as he continues looking around. "Though I do understand why you warned me."
Beatrice nods, "Yes, and the closets. And the bath. The real truth is, whatever-it-is is likely to be something that we've not had trouble with before. Still, one does not wish to venture to declare any of these things safe."
Beatrice glances around at the *gloing* noise.
Eva gives Bea a 'We probably don't want to know.' look.
Kincaid takes in the castle with his new eyes. The emerald green orbs gleam eriely catching and reflecting the light. "Think its something with the plumbing ever since..." His lips twist keeping back the rest of that sentence, "Perhaps we should change into something more appropriate. We wouldn't want to disappoint the count, would we?"
Vladimir is mysteriously absent, although the castle is in good order and has no major holes in it.
Beatrice suggests, pointedly, "Perhaps we can save changing until after we've been assigned rooms."
Eva looks between them "Last time, all I could find was some really weird, useless clothes." Schoolgirl outfit and all.
Beatrice asides to Scott, "As we said; beware the closets."
Scott raises a brow casually. "What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?" He pauses. "Beware the closets?"
Kincaid nods and removes his rain coat, handing it to a shadowy figure that grows into being. The butler like figure bows his head, he and the rain coat slip off. "Secret doors and a dangerours bording on genius fashion sense usually await those brave enough to check the closests."
The Master of Castle (and therefore Berg) Chudevic is Vladimir Drahul Tepesh Beval Kerayan-Chudewic, otherwise known as Vlaadmirr or Chudders to close friends. If he is in residence, the castle will have servants, a seneschal, and food in the kitchens. If he is not, it will be more like a recently-abandoned castle, and there may be in-theme dangers around every corner.
Eva says "I think it's personalized choice, too, depending on which room you get. I didn't get one of those fancy dresses that you can only tip over into."
A young, well, though skimpily dressed young man comes out of the castle and claps his hands together in delight in an almost overdone imitation of Vlad himself. "Guests!" he declares with a mop of silky black emo-hair dropping over one of his eyes. "How delightful. The master is in but alas cannot greet you himself, and that honor falls to me."
Eva bows in a Jadean manner, letting more important people to talk. She eyes the haircut. Niiiice.
Scott coughs into his fist when he gets a look at this guy. He offers him a nod, though to be polite.
Beatrice inclines her head to the young man. "I believe Prince Marshall Benedict has already gone ahead in. I have some gifts for your master..." she doesn't have a name for him.
"Oh," the young man blushes, and gushes, "My *master*. Yes. I am Gheorghe." He pronounces it GeeeORge, "He will be SO PLEASED, I am sure. DO let me show you," he sidles closer to them all. Particularly towards Scott, "To your rooms. Oh goodness," peering up. And up, "Aren't you TALL?"
Eva has a well trained, china doll poker face. But she tries really really hard not to point a finger and laugh.
Beatrice says, "Showing us to our rooms. What a delightful idea. Thank you."
Kincaid smiles and inclines his head to the emo-haired youth, "Thank you." Turning then to glance up at the big fellow as well. "That you are." Offering the big man a hand, "Kincaid." Introducing himself.
"I'll take you to your room last," Gheorghe titters at Scott.
Scott murmurs. "People keep saying that." He clears his throat and takes a step away from Gheorghe. "But...thank you." His gaze moves over to Beatrice, an unspoke question...'Is this normal?' Grateful for the distraction, he shakes Kincaid's hand. "Scott Shadowdancer. Well met, Kincaid."
Eva bows to Scott "Good to meet you." she pads after Gee Orgy.
"Riiiiight this way," Gheooooorge trills, and sashays towards the guest room. "I do hope some of you girls don't mind bunking together. My master had a rather large party of.... friends... recently and oh! the! mess! they left at the far end of the wing. How we will get the stains out I do! not! know!."
Beatrice looks at the others and gives Scott an ecouraging pat on his shoulder.
Eva says "Burn it down." she mutters to her chin, loud enough only for those nearby to hear.
Eva chuckles.
Beatrice grimly follows Gheorghe.
Scott shuffles along behind Gheorghe.
Gheorghe stops at the first door and says, "YOU are Lady Beatrice, yes?" At her nod he says, "Then you're in here with Lord Baruch. Oh! He is so tall," he says a little dreamily, then gives Scott a conspiratorial wink, "But not as tall as you. You Lay-dies...." he takes them to the next two doors down, "Will have to make do with these two. They are adjoining! So don't get into too much trouble," he giggles at himself, "You never know who will STOP IN for a DRINK after MIDNIGHT. Oh and boooooys," he skips across the hall, "In here." He hands out keys like lemondrops as he goes. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do! And don't be late for din-din!"
Eva looks the boy in dark fascination.
Beatrice says, before he can flit off again, "Ah, the present for Lord Vladimir...?" She has a parcel of excellent and valuable fur (no wolf pelts!) from Weirmonken that she wants to hand off, "With my compliments." All business.
"Oh how THOUGHTful!" Gee-orgy delcares as he takes the large parcel, "I am sure the Master will LOVE them! So soft. So.... caressable...."
Beatrice takes a very large step backward.
"Well, ta-ta for nows!" Gheorghe calls, before departing with a finger-waggling wave.
Eva looks at big Weir "I think you need to lock your door."
Beatrice exhales as the servant vanishes.
Scott nods at Eva. "I think you're right." He watches Georghe go. Shudders faintly.
----
There comes a loud banging on the door of Scott and Kincaid's room!
Scott walks to the door and cracks it open.
Taleyn hisses, "Psst! It's Taleyn and Miranda! We need your clothes, and quickly!!!"
Scott raises a brow. "Excuse me?"
Eva is behind them.
Beatrice is off in her room. Possibly with Benedict. It's possible that nobody will hear from them for a while.
The smell of popcorn from elsewher ein the castle indicates that Beatrice has a headache.
Taleyn presses, "Just open the door-- we'll explain then! Right now, we've got to get out of the hall before--" She looks over her shoulder and gasps. "Quickly!!! The majordomo is coming!!! She'll want us in HEELS for sure!!!"
Scott lets the ladies in. Since they said they needed his clothes, he begins to disrobe. He shrugs. "Okay, if you really need them.."
Eva clicks her sword into ready "I'll die rather than to wear THAT!" she keeps the rear.
Eva locks the door and blushes furiously, hiding behind her bangs as she turns to see Scott.
Taleyn leads the way into male-occupied territory and makes sure Miranda and Eva make it across the lines safely. Then she turns around to smile at Scott, but gasps instead. "What ARE you DOING?"
Scott pauses as he takes off his shirt. "You said you needed my clothes.."
Miranda , looking rather anaemic this afternoon, crosses over to collapse into a comfortable chair. "Not /yours/, sir," she says, to Scott. "Clothes out of your closets, rather." She politely averts her eyes, in the meantime.
Taleyn nods at Miranda's words. "You've no idea what the dresses in this place are like," she adds ominously. She moves over to the wardrobe. "But dressing for dinner is an absolute requirement in Chudevic Castle, so..." She begins rooting through the contents.
Scott ahs as understanding comes across his face. "Oh."
Miranda smiles up from the depths of her chair. The angelic effect is rather spoiled by the extensive scarring, although this is at least beginning to fade. "Thank you very much, sir," she says. "I am not sure I have had the pleasure of being introduced to you previously?"
Taleyn gasps, "Oh! I'm so sorry-- Lady Miranda, Viscountess of Wildemere, this is Scott Shadowdancer. And this is Eva."
Scott continues standing there, bare chested. He inclines his head to Miranda and Eva. "Well met." He idly rubs the back of his head. "I guess I'll dress for dinner when you've finished." He glances towards the door. "Though that servant makes me a little nervous."
Taleyn smiles. "Oh, good! It pays to be nervous here." She continues flipping through the garments while she talks. "Colors, everyone? What sort of formalwear do we fancy tonight?"
Miranda appears willing, for the moment, to play the part of the consumptive young lady. She does not, of course, actually /look/ at Scott, he being, after all, partly unclothed. "An honor to be known to you. Oh, well, as to that, Knight-Captain, I shall leave the choice to your ladyship's discretion, trusting in its good taste."
Eva leans her back against the door and looks rather unimpressed by possible choices.
Scott crosses his arms over his chest and continues watching them pick outfits in silence.
Taleyn peers, "Let's see, we've got... flamboyant... flamboyant... flamboyant in /terrible/ taste... flamboyant in even worse taste..." Her eyes widen. "Ummm, something I don't even recognize as /clothing/..."
Eva looks...not hopeful "Can't we just remain in what we have?"
In Vladland, menfolk dress in dinner jackets. Or leather trenchcoats and hats. But some fo the shirts are /awful/.
Taleyn Shakes her head. "Oh, our host would be *devastated.* He designed every one of these outfits, you know! They're really quite, um... well.. he's got his very own aesthetic." She hauls out the thing-not-recognized-as-clothing. It is some manner of extremely shiny leather straitjacket with multitudinous straps and buckles all over it. "Huh," she says.
Eva tilts her head one way, then another "Huh?" she repeats.
Eva asks "Is that from torture chamber?"
Taleyn blushes. "I hope so."
Eva is intrigued enough to drop that ninja is a shadow on the wall thing she tends to do, comming to Tally and poking the wear. "Huh...." No point in pretending to be unphased, here.
Scott looks at the garment with an expression of disdain. "Dreadful."
Taleyn swishes out with a silk dinner jacket in a Begman (Victorian-like) cut, made of Jadean (Japanese-like) silk. It's vivid red with a dragon embroidered all over it in gold thread. "There you go, Eva! Try that on. Looks like your size!"
A knock comes at the door.
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
Taleyn gasps. "HIDE!!!"
Eva unclicks the katana. CLICK. She turns to the door. Twitchy.
Eva asks, oddly "Why is that in THEIR closet??"
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*, again
Eva looks "It looks like something only pimps and transvestites would wear." open.
Miranda makes it seem a considerable effort to raise her head enough to gaze curiously at the door.
Taleyn motions for the women to shush and duck behind the furniture. Instead, she just takes the bedspread and covers herself and Miranda with it.
At the threshold stands a rather wide-eyed and sweet young thing dressed in something laced very tight and cut very low. A servant. She looks... nervous. "The... master... that is... Gheorghe... LORD Gheorghe..." she swallows, and eyes something behind all their heads, "Asks if you'd all be so good as to join him for dinner in a half-hour."
Eva leaps up to perch herself in the corner of the ceiling.
Miranda is, fortunately, too enervated or too lazy to object to being hidden by the linens.
Scott waits until they're covered and then opens the door, his bulk taking up a lot of the doorway. "Half an hour? Thank you."
The servant nods. She looks about to blurt something else out, then a shadow falls from the darkening window, and she scurries away.
Scott watches her leave. Then shuts the door. "
Taleyn emerges from under the counterpane and gallantly removes it from Miranda, laying it back over the bed, with a sigh. "Half an hour! Let's move, people!" She tosses a frilly white pirate shirt at Scott, and after some thought, follows it up with a green velvet jacket with satin lapels.
Eva unfolds back down and looks at Taleyn fashion's gooroo choice for Scott. And twitches.
Scott looks from the garments to Taleyn. "Please tell me you're kidding.
Taleyn dips her arm into the wardrobe again and beams. "If you like, you can look for yourself!" She plucks a garment to show to Miranda and lets Scott and Eva have at it.
The shadow at the window departs. Or perhaps it's just too hard to tell as it is almost completely dark now.
Eva eyes the window then the closet. She starts undressing, saving herself time. Her robes fall down with clunks of metal as she reveales her, already known to many who fought by her, strange dark bandaging that coils around her breasts, hips and things, and arms to the knuckles. She walks into the closet.
Miranda raises her head enough to consider. "That's quite lovely, really, Knight-Captain. Let me see ..." She makes a great effort to get to her feet, and crosses over to the closet. Without limping /too/ much.
Taleyn beams at the garment she grabbed and says, "This'll do fine for me! Miranda, would you like to choose for yourself, or shall I give you one?"
"Oh, I shall manage all right, Knight-Captain. Do please go ahead," Miranda says, smiling. She gives Scott (and Kincaid) a look, asking pointedly, "Perhaps the gentlemen will be so kind as to excuse us?"
Scott guestures towards the door. "You're excused."
Eva resurfaces as adrogenious GACKT alike.
Scott leaves the women to their own devices and continues undressing while walking towards his closet.
When Scott comes out of his closet and looks in his mirror, again, the shadows outside the window change. It is now thoroughly dark AND raining, though.
----
--[ Scott ]---------------------------------------------------[ idle 31s ]----
The figure before you stands at approximately 6'8 with shoulder length black hair and clear blue eyes. His facial features can be considered handsome. His body is built like that of a greek wrestler. Barrel chest, bulging biceps and powerful legs make up some of the characteristics this man has. Laugh lines adorn his mouth and suggests that he does indeed laugh often. If one had to put an age to him, he would appear to be in his early twenties.
His hair is brushed out and falls in wavy strands to his shoulders. All lace and silks, Scott wears a white shirt with a high collar and frilly lace at the end of the sleeves. Over this, is a midnight blue jacket with gold embroidery around the sleeves and lapels. Pants of the same midnight color flow down his legs. The clothes seem to be a size smaller and does nothing to hide his masculine curves. White stockings adorn his legs and black shoes with a golden buckle adorn his feet.
-------------------------------------------------------[ male no-chatter ]----
--[ Miranda ]--------------------------------------------------[ idle 8s ]----
A slender young woman, perhaps just a touch below average in height and with a rather boyish look to her; severe burn scars cover almost every inch of her skin that remains exposed, seaming her face, neck, hands, and what can be seen of her arms. Though her golden hair has begun to grow back in defiance of whatever fearsome conflagration marked her thus, she keeps it cut quite short still, only just coming to the tops of her ears. Her large wide eyes are the pale blue-green color of verdigrised copper.
She is dressed in a formal outfit made for a boy in his early teens; black double-breasted tailcoat, low-cut white waistcoat, and a starched shirt fastened with tiny sapphire studs. The white bow tie is left deliberately untied. The trousers are sharply creased, the shoes fastened with polished silver buckles, and she has a hawthorn walking stick with an ornately carved handle to complete the outfit.
--------------------------------[ female finger no-chatter trouble-yay/5 ]----
Beatrice(#652PXc3)
---------------------------------------------------------------[ idle 0s ]----
The peaches-and-cream complexion, cupid-bow lips, round jade eyes and fine, straight nose might give her oval face a china-doll quality, but it is saved by a sharply angled brow and the mature grace which has replaced the first flush of youth. Impossibly thick, old-gold curls has been artfully piled in swept layers away from her face to rest on the back of her head, a light glitter of gems on clips to keep it contained. The remainder spills free in semi-ordered curls that come forward over one shoulder. Athletic yet feminine, her figure is just short of considerably tall.
The gown is really a chemise, of sheer and perfect silk, gathered at the sleeves. The gold-and-orange embroidered bodice is a separate piece, cinched tight and low, allowing the chemise to pool fetchingly around it and reveal a bit of milky-white shoulder. The skirt bears an extra layer or two of the same silky white, rendering it just this side of opaque. White kid boots lace to her ankles. A chain of engraved gold crescent links circles her throat, resting at her collar bones. She wears suede gloves up over her wrists.
--------------------------------[ female pbg finger details trouble-ok/3 ]----
--[ Eva ]------------------------------------------------------[ idle 1m ]----
Eva leaves the impression of a crow echoing, leafless forest on the night of the full moon. Somewhat taller than an average woman and somewhat shorter than a tall man, her age is completely lost in the labyrinth of the mid-twenties. Her hair is a slithery flow of straight, pitch black hair that reaches her waist when unleashed. Thick bangs are kept in a neat line over her brows, which falls in a curve to her jaw. Face is of an unusual shade, the contrast with the dark blue eyes startling. Lines are Jadean, but somewhat blurred with the Alhambrian heritage. An unusual, but well met mixture.
She's a ninja. This outfit is to embaressing to describe. Please allow your imagination to overflow with goth frolicking!
-----------------------------[ female pbg finger no-chatter trouble-ok/3 ]----
--[ Taleyn ]---------------------------------------------------[ idle 2m ]----
Taleyn's wide, inquisitive dark eyes flash amid wavy tendrils of chestnut hair which flows past her waist. Her slender form and schooled alabaster features would be statuesque if only she didn't seem all too ready to burst into smile or leap into adventure.
Her electric blue-black viscose-velvet dinner jacket is like unto a formal seventeenth century frockcoat on crack-- overly-high collar, overly-broad cuffs ringed with extravagant lace, and the whole thing liberally bespangled with sequins. Underneath is a theatrically ruffled shirtfront, a figure-hugging waiscoat with a sparkly-white satin sash over it, and black leggings so snug they may as well be tights. Her footwear, by contrast, is remarkably sensible-- knee-high black leather riding boots.
http://www.movieforum.com/movies/titles/labyrinth/images/jareth.jpg
---------------------------------------[ female pbg details trouble-ok/4 ]----
---
Beatrice is one of the first to arrive at dinner, but only by moments. It seems the head of the table, the spot normally reserved for the host, is now being occupied by the black silky emo-haired young man who greeted them earlier. He is dressed nearly identically to Miranda except his shirt studs are glittering ruby. "Oh how ELEGANT you all look," he gushes as the guests filter in for dinner.
Taleyn's jaw drops as she sees everyone's outfits-- then it drops again when she sees Miranda and George are dressed alike! She beams and gives a gallant bow to their host. "Thank you so much for your hospitality. It's always such a pleasure to dine here."
Eva stalks in, looking grumpy. You may take outfit from a ninja, but...her two swords still hang from her hips. With her hair in a ponytail she looks like a pretty boy.
"Well, well," Gheorghe purses his lips, "I ~suppose~ we should sit boy-girl-boy...." he eyes Miranda, and lets that trail off. He sighs reluctantly as he puts Scott a whole seat away from himself. That has Taleyn and Beatrice right up by him! With Miranda on the other side of Taleyn and Scott beyond Beatrice. Then Eva beyond Scott. "Uncle Vlaaadimir ~always~ insists on the proper forms, and as I am hosting in his place, I can *hardly* do less."
Miranda, despite her formal dress, is still rather pale, and the walking stick is something more than a prop. Still, she manages a proper bow, and keeps her smile bright. Just for old times' sake, she even uses Robin's voice. "I am sure that all of us should be dismayed to appear otherwise ... ah; perhaps you will permit me, Knight-Captain?" She makes to pull out a chair for Taleyn.
Gheorghe may be a little confused by Miranda's sudden shift in gender. Then again, Gheorghe may just be a little confused.
Scott walks in, bows and then takes his seat. He doesn't seem to be very talkative, but he does scowl faintly at Taleyn's look.
Eva sits at the designated seat, sideglancing at people with a vague curiosity "Thank you for hosting a dinner for us m'lord."
Taleyn squeaks just a bit and giggles as Robin pulls out her chair. "Delighted, good Sir!" she beams. She gives Scott the very brightest smile as if to say she cannot possibly be aware of what he might be scowling at, surely nothing she herself has done. To Gheorghe she says, "Oh, the Count is your Uncle? How delightful!" She keeps herself from grinning at Eva's outfit, staunchly, but her eyes do widen at Beatrice showing SHOULDER!!!
"Oh it is my PLEASURE," Gheorghe answers as he holds the seat for Beatrice then takes his own. The servants step forward to fill everyone's glasses. "I hope you'll enjoy the fruits of Dear Uncle Vlaaaaadimir's cellars. The majordomo promises me it is QUITE the THING, but of course I wouldn't know. I never drink.... wine." At this statement he is so pleased with himself he breaks into a fresh set of giggles.
Eva looks at him, confused. "You a cured alcoholic?"
Beatrice clears her throat a little at this question. Or perhaps it's at Miranda and Taleyn.
"Oh goodness me," Gheorghe answers, "I should *hope* not, though Mother... well, we do not speak *ill* of Uncle Vlaaaaaaadimir's FORMER WIVES in ~this~ house."
Miranda naturally waits until all the Ladies are seated, before doing so herself. She bestows an angelic smile on Taleyn whilst doing so, and murmurs her thanks when her glass is filled, although she demonstrates no immediate urge to drink.
The servants serve the first course. The food is delectable. Rich. Perfect.
Beatrice eyes the first course as if sizing up an opponent.
Meanwhile Gheorghe gushes, "Uncle Vlaaaaaaaaaadimir is, I am sure, SO SORRY he could not be here to greet you all... by the way, how long are you all staying? DEAR Baruc was rather vague on this point."
Taleyn tucks in with gusto, though she eats with impeccably ladylike manners. She lets her senior Knight answer the question.
Beatrice says, "A day or two, I expect."
"Oh that IS a pity," Gheorghe answers at once, "I do not believe my DEAR UNCLE will be back for three days AT LEAST."
Beatrice eats, but sparingly. She is a little distracted by the meal, though, and the conservation largely moves on around them.
Eva hates these forky things. She studies how others eat, spying on their technique.
Taleyn looks up and smiles. "Oh? Where /is/ your Uncle? Is he on a hunting trip?"
"Oh!" Gheorghe says when Taleyn asks the question, then leans forward a little to stage-whisper conspiratorially, "He is visiting some old, old, OLD friends. If you know what I mean." His lips have an unfortunate habit of puckering up into a little cupie-bow shape, but only for a moment because a second later he has burst into peels of almost hysterical giggles at his own... wit.
Scott remains quiet and counts the minutes until he'd be able to excuse himself.
Miranda dines with the proper manners for a young gentleman, even to the point of being solicitous toward her companion of the moment. Her only fault is that she does have to lean back in her chair every now and again, but then, she /did/ lose a fair bit of blood only yesterday.
"Now," Gheorghe says, "Where ~are~ my manners. I have not even asked, yet, how was your trip over?"
The first course is removed, and the second course is served.
Eva looks almost more miserable than Scott which is a close contest.
Taleyn was clearly in the process of wondering whether Vlaad is visiting the Mummy Kings, but her thoughts are interrupted. "Oh! It was lovely, thank you! Spectacular weather, as always..." Of course, by spectacular, she must be referring to the electrical storm they slogged through.
Taleyn seems giggly and delighted at Miranda being a Gentleman and such a charming dinner companion at that! She is quite the blushing maid this eve-- despite being dressed rather like certain Goblin Kings.
Beatrice gives a significant, "Mmm." Though those with context may be reading her expression to mean: Oh god, it is turtle soup. There was turtle soup under Silverspire. She is otherwise stoic.
"...Tell me," Gheorghe wonders, "Wasn't there another... young lady with all of you? Or..." he's peering at Miranda and licking his lips a bit, but then, perhaps he really likes his turtle soup.
Eva mutters only "Turtles. Boost up energy...." to her soup.
Taleyn sips the soup savoringly, casting a mischievous glance at Miranda at their host's question.
Eva has partially disconnected.
"I can only conclude that you are referring to me, sir," Miranda says, rather cheerfully. "Whilst they are most fetching, I had some difficulty finding clothes that suited me properly, and, besides, we otherwise should have been left with an excess of ladies and a lack of gentlemen."
"....Oh," Gheorghe answers, but he might be saying 'ew.' Scott now has ALL his attention. "I am ~so~ relieved you had no trouble finding something suitable given how... LARGE, that is, how, TALL, you are." He titters. "Of course, DEAR Uncle Vlaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadimir let that woman be filled with-- NOW NOW." This is directed at that same wide-eyed, worried looking serving girl who told them about dinner earlier. Was that a slip of paper she was about to put under Taleyn's plate as she changed the second course for the third? Either way, the girl nearly jumps out of her skin, drops a curtsy, and hurries off with the second course, leaving the fish in its place. The same is done by other servants for the other dishes, but without the jumping or scurrying.
Eva's eyes track the twitchy servant. She seems to find it a way to survive this.
Beatrice seems pleased to have something to worry about other than the food, and lifts her brows at Taleyn.
Miranda's expression turns momentarily puzzled. She does not seem to be offended, however; and the confusion quickly melts back into a smile, and then she raises a hand to her forehead for a moment. "I beg your pardon," she says; "a moment of weakness only, you may be assured." But she does take a moment to sit back nd recover her strength, rather than falling immediately to the next course.
Taleyn pretends not to notice the attempted note-pass and instead fawns on their host. "OHhhh, doesn't the fish look MARVELOUS!" she flutters. "I /must/ say, Gheorghe, you keep a SPLENDID table to rival even your esteemed Uncle's! What a /glamorous/ night this is."
Privately, to Beatrice and Miranda, Taleyn casts a glance at both as if to say, "Did you see that? Something is wrong here!"
Eva looks slightly sick, but is too polite to rise off the table just yet.
Gheorghe PREENS at Taleyn's complement. "I do try," he attempts to understate, but who are we fooling? He then gushes, "Uncle Vlaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadimir was... is, I mean, such an IDOL to me when I was younger. Such the pinnacle of manners! of style! of.... ~je ne sais quoi~. And such the consummate host." His wide eyes go misty, "What young.... man... could want anything but to be JUST like him?"
Scott smiles at Georghe. "I was just lucky to find this in my size, I guess." Then, he goes back to eating.
"Quite a remarkable person, on the whole," Miranda agrees, very politely. "I do not think I have ever seen him at a loss for words, no matter the situation."
Eva waits a pause in mealshifts and rises, bowing "I most sincerely apologize, esteemed host, but I do not feel well. I shall be in my room." she bows again. Those nearby can hear "Hopefully." muttered.
At Scott's mention of his size, Gheorghe flutters a hand to his heart while is other hand grasps the long stem of the wine glass he has not touched all evening. "Yes.... lucky. We shall have to see what other wonderful things we can find around the castle that fit you. In fact, I shall make that my personal mission, after dinner."
Privately, to Taleyn, Beatrice is looking... yes. Something is off. She agrees. But she is also indignant.
Taleyn flutters innocently, "And where is our esteemed Prince Marshal? It's so unlike him to skip dinner. What a grand occasion he is missing! We shall have tales to tell when next we see him."
There is a noise just on the other side of the door from which the servants are bringing the dishes. It causes Gheorghe's head to *pivot* with an almost avian motion. A strange coldness comes over him. Voices are muffled outside the door. He says to the company then. "If you could all.." he rises and distractedly drops his napkin, "Excuse me a moment..."
Miranda murmurs something, very quiet; it's not even clear whether she's trying to communicate with someone, as she isn't looking at anyone.
Beatrice frowns as soon as Gheorghe goes, "I am going to try to find my prince," she decides. "If you'll all excuse me." She departs rapidly, perhaps distressed at the food, or worried about making sure Benedict is where he is supposed to be...
Taleyn nods, beaming. "Certainly." As soon as Gheorghe has left the table, however, she mumurs softly, "trouuuuuble..." keeping her face in a lovely smile the whole time. Her head snaps up as Beatrice leaves, then the smile is back, and she is beaming to Scott and Miranda. "Yes, I think we should search for Vlaad as soon as dinner is over..."
Scott looks over at Taleyn. "If I ran right now. Would I be in trouble?" He sounds dead serious.
Taleyn laughs merrily as if Scott had made a perfectly splendid witticism, then she hides her face from the kitchen under the guise of blotting her mouth with her napkin and murmurs, "We've got to find Count Vlaadimir! There's foul play afoot here. That Gheorghe is up to something-- and *you* have got to keep him occupied while the rest of us search the castle!"
Scott gulps. "Me!? Why me!?"
Taleyn leans across the table. "He already wants to 'occupy' you after dinner! It's easy, just... stall him!"
Eva has disconnected.
Scott huffs. "Fine. But you owe me for this."
Taleyn ponders that. After a pause, she says, "All right. Niklas and Rae will /never/ hear about this night from me."
Taleyn pouts a little about that.
Scott smiles. "Deal."
Taleyn grins almost wolfishly. "Lovely!" She emits another bubbling laugh at that point, as cover for another pointed look at the kitchen. Then she plots with Miranda, "I've never been anywhere inside this place without getting lost! We're going to have to make contact with a servant while Scott is running our interference. Shall we aim for getting in touch with that poor soul who tried to slip us the note?"
Scott prepares himself mentally for his ordeal. Meanwhile, he finishes his meal. Good stuff.
A bit later, Gheorghe sweeps back in. He is flushed and distinctly *satisfied*. "It is so hard," he quips, "To get good help these days." He resumes the seat at the head of the table, smiling with particularly vividly red lips at Scott. "Now... where ~where~ we?"
Miranda has, by then, recovered enough to be more or less her her usual self. She still hasn't eaten any more, although she has cut up and pushed the bits around her plate so as to make the casual observer think otherwise. "I am not certain, sir," she says. "We, of course, were enjoying a delightful meal marred only by the absence of the Count. As indeed we still are."
"Oh, yes," Gheorghe says with a certain acerbic airiness, "I am sure he is missing ~us~, as well." He notices the absences of Eva and Beatrice finally, perhaps because Scott has now become an island. "Goodness, has everyone gone off? I hope the little trouble with *dear* *delicious* Marielena did not trouble anyone unduly."
Scott replies to Gheorghe. "No. I believe they were fatigued from the journey."
"Oh, well," Gheorghe all but trills, "Of course -- of course! One's guests must *rest*. I do hope the weather shall be *fine* tomorrow. Dear Uncle Vlaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadimir always takes his guests hunting, I believe. And you strike me as a perfect.... hunting companion."
Scott rolls a shoulder slightly. "I've been hunting on many occasions."
"Oh," Gheorghe titters, "I thought you might have been. I *always* know...."
Eventually, the meat is followed by the cheese and the salad and then dessert... and dinner is over!
"I'll see. you. later!" Gheorghe trills at Scott as he takes his leave.
----
Scott rises from his seat and bows towards Gheorghe. "Thank you for the meal." After he's dismissed, he moves to go back to his room.
Miranda departs the dining hall after the usual exchange of pleasantries. She doesn't head at once for her rooms, however, but lingers nearby under pretense of inspecting the tapestries to see if that one particular serving maid makes a reappearance.
The serving maid does not reappear, but then, the door to the kitchens is not locked, either...
Scott pauses before he leaves, watching Miranda for a moment. He meanders back over towards her, raising a brow in silent question.
Miranda smiles her brilliant smile at him, of course. This is probably not necessary, but old habits are hard to break. "Please act as if everything is normal, sir," she says, in an undertone. "I should like to see if we might be able to locate the young lady, and, perhaps, learn something of import from her."
Scott rolls a shoulder. "You got it." He looks around the room for a moment. Tugs at his collar. "What do you have in mind?" He asks in a low rumble.
Outside, the threatening weather has turned into a full-force storm. Lightening flashes occasionally frame the elegant oaks outside the window in stark silhouette against the grounds, but otherwise all that can be seen is pitch black and the rain driving against the windowpanes. Thunder rumbles, both distant and close.
In the great hearths of the dining room, the fires are dying away.
"I suspect," Miranda says, "that servants are inclined to talk among themselves, and thus that we may be able to determine her present whereabouts through polite interrogation of the kitchen staff, which perhaps might be veiled in some more innocuous guise. I shall try to think of something ..." She glances across to the window for a moment, frowning.
It is a dark and stormy night.
Scott grins. "Whatever you decide to do, Miranda. I'm with you. And I'll follow your lead."
Miranda blushes faintly. This, it seems, is unexpected praise. Or maybe it's just habit for Robin. "Very good, sir. I shall strive not to prove unequal to the task ... ah!" She nods quickly to herself, and strides across towards the entrance to the kitchen. Well, limps. The walking stick helps.
Scott follows along behind her, even offering his arm to balance herself should she need it.
It seems the servants have been busy cleaning as they served tonight; the tidying-up work is nearly all done. A few sleepy servants are washing up dessert dishes and doing up some of the pots and pans. The people wandering into the kitchen receive owlish blinks. Here, too, the fire is dying down in the fireplace -- but there is a bit of a mess in front of it, and nobody has yet swabbed down the floors.
Miranda walks in as though she owns the place, or at least is an honored guest. She gives strictly cursory glances around the place, as if it is entirely below her notice, except for the perfect confidence that someone here will listen to her. "The Knight-Captain Lady Feldane does not sleep well during storms," she declaims, still playing the gentleman's part. "She requires a hot buttered rum, or the equivalent, in order to ensure that her repose is entirely tranquil."
A servant nods and busies himself getting a hot-buttered rum prepared.
Having established her reasons for being here, Miranda can then take the time to scan the place for the serving girl in question, albeit no more obviously than she has to. She strolls back and forth, the picture of the bored aristrocrat.
The serving girl does not appear to be in sight anywhere here in the kitchen... but that might be that slip of paper from dinner half-in and half-out of the ashes in the mess by the hearth.
The servant making the hot buttered run is ploddingly sifting the sugar while the butter softens....
Miranda gives Scott a quick look, with a flick of her eyes toward the hearth and the note. Or the remains of it. She strolls across the kitchen to inspect ... something or other, walking-stick tapping on the ground.
Scott nods and moves over towards the hearth. His hand darts in to retrieve what's left of the note.
One of the servants plods by sleepily, taking no notice.
Note gotten! It's only singed in one or two (large) places.
Scott slips it into his jacket and then wanders around. He asks one of the serves. "Got anything left over from dinner? I tend to eat a lot." He blushes faintly. Gotta feed the machine!
Miranda appears to regard the whole business of the kitchens as largely beneath her notice, except for matters of idle curiousity. She even sings a few bars of something operatic regarding the fury of the storm and so forth, when the thunder outside is particularly intense. And then she circles back toward where the rum is being prepared.
The woman nods at Scott and says, "Of course, Sir. I shall be pleased to prepare you a cold steak sandwich."
Scott offers the woman a grateful look and one of his best smiles. "That would be adequate, thank you."
Scott offers the woman a grateful look and one of his best smiles. "That would be adequate, thank you."
Servants putter and eventually produce the sandwich and the buttered rum.
But meanwhile the servants are finishing up in the kitchen, giving Miranda and Scott the odd, confused glance.
Scott eats his sandwich and drinks his rum. "Crazy weather they have around here, huh?" He says in general.
Miranda offers a bright but somewhat condescending smile to the person who delivers the rum. "Very good, miss," she says. "I am in your debt, as, I am sure, is the Knight-Captain." She makes to depart, telling Scott, "At your convenience, sir."
Scott downs the rum and wolfs down the rest of the sandwich. "Night." He says to the servants and then goes to take his leave with Miranda.
As Scott and Miranda move through the halls, the distant sound of Gheorghe's high-pitched giggling can be heard echoing from some ill-defined point of origin.
Once she's out of the kitchen, Miranda's first words -- quietly murmured, too much so for anyone other than Scott to hear, are "I loathe acting like that."
Scott replies as he hands over the note. "I loathe that giggling. Guy creeps me out. And he's more than just a /little/ confused about...." he waves a hand. "...you know."
The note reads in the daintiest and most well-formed letters:
Please help me! I am not a servant in this castle, but HE (underlined several times) has not noticed I am Ma-- (singed for some space) and I met some of you at-- (more singing) --ing when that vile boy came to visit. He never knew I was a guest! The last I saw of the Count, he was taking Gheorghe for a walk in the garden to 'visit the ancestors' and he has not been back since, and that was _nights_ ago. Please help the poor, dear count!
Miranda says, dryly, "An accusation that has been levelled at me from time to time, I fear, so I have some sympathy for him on that score, sir -- oh, my goodness!"
Scott frowns. "Well, why do you..." The question dies on his lips as he reads the note over Miranda's shoulder. "Hmm. This can't be good. How do you want to play this?"
"We must inform Dame Beatrice and the Knight-Captain at once," Miranda says. "I have every confidence in your ability to deal with the boy; but there may be more here than meets the eye, and, should something go wrong, I should not like them to be left wondering what has become of /us/."
Scott nods. "Agreed. While you're informing them, maybe I can take a look around the gardens, since it was the last place the Count was seen. Maybe they left behind a clue?"
"Very good then, sir," Miranda says. "I shall be as quick as I can. Pray, be cautious, as I am sure you will, until we are more certain as to the nature of what we may face?"
Scott dips his head in acknowledegment. "I promise to be careful." He begins to move away and pauses. He grins. "And please, call me Scott." And with that, he moves off to find the door to the gardens.
Currently, Scott and Miranda are standing in one of the rare hallways that has windows as large as some of the fancier rooms; a gallery of sorts. There are a few torches lit along the stone wall to one side that illuminate several large, garishly colored paintings. And opposite these are the windows overlooking the gardens that surround the castle on the same mountaintop. A particularly vivid and rapid set of lightening strikes sets this all aglow briefly and, should one be looking up, marks out the silhouette not just of the gnarled fruit trees, but of the grand doors of an elaborately-decorated mausoleum that seems to emerge from a rise in the earth, a few hundred yards away from this side of the castle.
ooc: Miranda says, "Dramatic chord!"
To be continued....