It's never a good sign when the morning starts with a slightly concerned, "Oh dear," from Jaenelle's study.

Nor is it a good morning when one is wandering through the Mansion when said "oh dear" takes effect, quite suddenly and randomly, creating rapid and alarming transformations. Jaenelle herself is looking sheepishly unicornish somewhere, ( Read more... )

(Just when you thought there couldn’t possibly be any more of King Arthur’s children unaccounted for…)

Goewin is looking for Lleu.

She is Arthur and Guinevere’s daughter, Lleu’s twin sister and his senior by a few scant minutes. She’s not sure whether she’ll find him alive or dead-or worse, some terrible state in between-and she may be so fixed on ( Read more... )

One fine day it just seems to happen. Out on the Mansion's spacious front lawn, a gathering is in progress ( Read more... )

Bedivere, at long last returned from his emo brooding soul searching and ever willing to profit off the misfortune of others, is now casually not-quite-napping next to two large and slightly dusty crates full of bottles. There is a sign leaning against the crates that reads simply:

Will Trade Booze for Sex KissesApparently his cellar is more well ( Read more... )

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 ( Read more... )

The carriage stops in front of the Mansion, and a man, in his mid-twenties, walks up the steps. His hair is unkempt, he is sporting a stubble, and a rare thing for a man of the 19th century, he does not wear a hat. He looks around with curious eyes, frowns, and knocks on the door.

His horses and carriage have stopped and await him - he never did ( Read more... )

Well, he's back. The Mansion, whether because of the plothole's disappearance, or some sadistic impulse of its own, has failed to provide dry-cleaning services, and although his skin is clean and unhurt, his clothes are absolutely soaked in dried blood and completely ruined, especially the yellow sweater. His hair and beard are longer than they ( Read more... )

Mordred and Justitia got home yesterday evening, only to find their bed occupied by a newly arrived nephew and Gaheris' by an invalid lady, and between explanations and welcomes they were up half the night; which is why it's not until this afternoon that Mordred comes up the front steps -- rested, fed, partially caught up on the news -- to visit ( Read more... )

Bored Khary does not make for good things, and yet again Khardeen has set himself to doing something at least marginally amusing. He's terribly pleased with himself, though admittedly, he didn't think of the ideas himself.

Anyone who wanders into the front room in the next couple hours will find themselves rather markedly different, this depending ( Read more... )

Kavi Chernevog, troubled Kavi Chernevog, rash Kavi Chernevog, is regretting his rash decision to frighten Pyetr Kochevikov by near-killing his English woman--when he was setting about it, when he was taking her strength from her slowly, it seemed to him a good plan, at least one that would damage Pyetr Ilitch and show him that he, Kavi Chernevog, ( Read more... )