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... )

Paul enters the main room, looking around with a smirk. It should be noted that there's a gun in his belt, hidden by his coat, along with a variety of other concealed weapons. "I'm looking for a man named Hades."

Typist: Poor Paul has no idea that there's more than one. Have at him, Hadeses.

Enter a woman of devastating beauty ( Read more... )

Prepare, O community, to be dazzled ( Read more... )

So it's a safe bet that pregnancy isn't actually in the water. But that doesn't mean that nothing else is either ( Read more... )

A lady enters. She is young, perhaps thirty years, with a pretty complexion, blue eyes, and a fine smile, although it is small and warm, the smile of one who knows she intrudes and wishes to assure the company that she means no harm, and is well-bred. She pauses, and then enquires, in a soft and lovely voice,--Good day. I am Mrs. James Watson, and ( Read more... )

A man arrives at the mansion, dressed in a simple black suit. He carries a suitcase with him, full of all the things he will need until he can arrange to have more shipped to him. His hair is a very pale blond, and his eyes are a light blue.

My name is Pendergast. Would any of you happen to know where I might find a set of rooms for rent?

Typist ( Read more... )

Silently delivered to the following people is a neatly packaged little envolope, bearing their name:

( List )

*a notice is tacked to the community notice board -- which does exist. Below it is a sign-up sheet ( Read more... )

He ambles throughout the mansion, whistling tunelessly to himself (or perhaps there is a tune, but the tune in question would be little better, or perhaps worse). He runs his hand along every door he passes, and his fingers leave brief trails of fire. This is, let us say, a sort of... controlled chaos ( Read more... )