Introduction

[aunt_myrtle]

Myrtle Harper wanders about the lawn, her cello case in hand. This is most definitely not the Island, she thinks. A breeze blows her long, brown hair into her face, but she is too perplexed to brush it back. It seems so quiet to her and it takes her a moment to realize that the sound of the ocean is gone. She thought she was just going down to the

Comments

[rob_fellows]

The Puck is sitting on a branch, observing her, amused. "Didn't know we'd ordered a band, but ain't complaining either, sweetheart."

[aunt_myrtle]

Myrtle isn't sure why there is a man in a tree but figures that maybe things are different on the main land. She is also a little offended about being called 'sweetheart' by someone she doesn't know. It reminds her of the gangsters in the black and white movies her father sometimes watches on the old television.
'I wasn't ordered... At least I don't think... Well, not to my knowledge anyways.' She stumbles through her words, not used to talking to strange people. 'It's only one instrument anyways.' She says lamely, trying to find a way to end her rambling.

[rob_fellows]

He jumps to the ground, then, landing easily on his feet. "Don't worry, lovely, no-one is ever ordered here. I was just teasing you. Welcome to the Mansion."

He gives her an extravagant bow.

"Rob Fellows, at your service."

[aunt_myrtle]

'Oh, hello, I'm Myrtle.' She is a little taken a-back by the grand gesture but bobs her head in return. 'Do you live here too?'

[rob_fellows]

"I do, everyone you'll meet here does, to my knowledge. It's like a great sucking vortex - just pulls in the grandest and finest, lovely."

He eyes the cello. "Need help with the luggage?"