The Mansion sits in silence, everything inside it coated in a heavy layer of dust. It's waiting. It's plotting. It had reluctantly released its captives for a while -- back to their native books lands -- but that was only to lull them into a false sense of security. Now it's back with a renewed sense of mischief ( Read more... )

     He looks around, confused and out of sorts as he stands in the doorway. The last memory is that of pain and then bitter cold, everything in between it all a blur of color and sensation. Things he'd rather stay forgotten. A dull ache rises in his chest, however, as a memory stirs, something vivid and colorful, meaningful. A moment of happiness ( Read more... )

Despite the strangeness of the situation and the unfamiliarity of the mansion, Vittorio took a brief moment to study a painting. There was, he decided, always time for art.

As a vampire who had lived almost six centuries, Vittorio was not wary of his surroundings. In fact, he felt quite intrigued. With a sigh, he moved away from the painting and on ( Read more... )

There was no real explanation for why he was here, but Armand did not care ( Read more... )

Today is the first birthday of Jareth and Amadeo's daughter, Aisling, and the occasion, though obviously a happy one, has her daddy in a somewhat reflective mood.

He's come to the mansion in particular to seek out his mother, but any and all conversation is welcome.

She's a sad, pale woman and she has the look of someone far gone to illness. It doesn't help that her sudden appearance here amid the brightness of the mansion has sent her into a state of fearful agitation. Where is her family? Her home? Even the air and temperature is wrong, dreadfully wrong - where is the cold harshness of Kievan Rus' winter?! ( Read more... )

A small hand, pale and infinitely graceful in its movement, reached up to take the handle of the door, pausing only briefly before pushing it open and stepping inside, the clicking of her shoes seeming to echo into the night that lay behind her. Pushing back the heavy cloak hood that partially covered her face, she glanced around with an expression ( Read more... )

A rather good-looking gentleman (if he may say so himself) with blond hair and cobalt blue eyes that often appear violet strode up to the mansion. He seemed to have no hesitance despite the strangeness of it all, but Lestat was easygoing and there was very little that would cause him to do a double-take or throw him off guard. Or if it was a rare ( Read more... )

A newcomer has arrived at the Mansion (hardly an unusual occurrence, really), but his presence is rather overshadowed, quite literally, by the simultanaeous arrival of nighttime. Now, night at the Mansion generally falls with unvarying regularity every twelve hours or so, and the star-studded dark sky should be nothing unusual... Though perhaps it ( Read more... )

A tall hansome man enters the room. His skin is pale, his hair shoulder length and neatly tied back. Anyone who's glanced at a TV even casually or flipped a news paper in the past 10 years knows who he is. His blue-grey eyes survey the room. He smiles. It's an interesting mix of guests here ( Read more... )