[Introduction] A horrid turn of events

[regency_twihard]

The coach ride to Bath proves utterly imperilous, with no great calamity than a stop at an inn -- its taproom sadly lacking in sinisterly scarred ruffians or raddled wenches with sharp tongues, much less a kitchen with a fat, surly chef cuffing the kitchen boys. Once they resume their journey, they nearly turn back to the inn, when Mrs. Allen

Comments

[hismothersson]

It's not as if Albert hasn't enough on his plate, but he still likes looking at and talking to pretty girls, and there hasn't been nearly enough of that in his life lately. Besides, he's hungry, and maybe she'll go into the kitchen. So he's rather ineptly trying to follow her around the Mansion in secret. Ducking behind lamps and corners, always just a moment to late, but he doesn't know that. Does she notice?

[regency_twihard]

All day, Catherine has had the peculiar feeling that something has been following her, and she has started to wonder if there might not be a ghost following her about. Even still, she heads to the kitchen, looking for some bread to toast or some apples to nibble on.

[hismothersson]

Albert silently pumps his fist in victory when her steps turn toward the kitchen. But he hesitates at the door. Should he just walk on in and pretend he hasn't been following her?

[regency_twihard]

The door is ajar and she's puttering around, finding a loaf of bread and cutting a few slices. She looks around for a toe-toaster to cook the bread, but isn't having much luck as the bumping and rattling about the kitchen should tell him...

She might not be in distress, but this damsel could use someone to help...

[whutobjection]

You might catch a painfully normal lawyer at the library, on the outside he's reading a law volume, on the inside he's drawing pictures of the various women and men he's met in the mansion. (Not all of them are appropriate.)

Still, he can be bothered.

[regency_twihard]

There's nothing that Catherine loves more than curling up with a deliciously "horrid" book, and she's just found a volume of "The Mysteries of Udolpho", when she spies the young man with his nose in a book. She approaches, eying the book, finding it to be a law book. Dry stuff, but the young man is rather attractive, though she's not sure what to make of the hair.

She knows it's likely rude, but she can't help peering around the edge of the book to get a better look at his face.

[whutobjection]

Well he's not actually *reading* it per say. He's busy drawing a particularly nasty pale demon when a face suddenly comes up and very nearly spooks him out his chair, dropping the law book and his sketchbook.

"Gah!"

[regency_twihard]

She stumbles back, startled. "Oh! I am sorry," she squeaks. "I did not mean to disrupt your...your artwork." She hasn't seen a gentleman sketching before, but this world seems full of surprises.

[homely_sonja]

Not quite a knight, but close enough - here's Brienne, who can be found in the stables, should Catherine get to exploring. Ugly as she is with her spotted face, crooked nose, fat lips and uneven teeth, tall and flat-chested as she is, she probably looks less human than she is.

The gentle giant type is currently grooming a horse, more to occupy her hands than any thing else.

[regency_twihard]

It's likely not till much later, that Catherine ventures into the stables, but it's a warm place out of the winter wind, and she can't help roaming along the aisle, looking at the horses and wondering what adventures they have had, what daring deeds their riders have performed.

Till she spots the giant of a woman -- bigger than some men she's met -- and she starts back with a little gasp.

[homely_sonja]

Brienne looks pained, if only briefly at the audible gasp, and pauses in her ministration on the bay mare she was tending to.

She pauses, blinks at the girl.

".... aye?"

It's to be noted that she is dressed in man's medieval gear, but not a servant's.

[regency_twihard]

"I'm sorry, I've just never seen a woman, or a noblewoman tending a horse with quite the same care as you do," she says. "I am Catherine Morland, of Fullerton."

[vial_o_zydrate]

And here comes someone from the distant future, long hair with blue highlights, trench coat and cyberpunk boots ahoy!

GraveRobber is sitting on a windowsill and cleaning his fingernails with a knife. He hums a strange tune in his low baritone voice, for his own amusement.

[regency_twihard]

Catherine is rummaging in a cupboard for a shawl, when she spies the ...very peculiar man on the windowsill. She wants to think he's some very strange street singer from some place with very unusual new styles, but he has the air of a rogue and a wastrel about him, the kind of man Mrs. Allen warned her about. But she stops rummaging and approaches him, eying him, with her head tilted, curious.

[vial_o_zydrate]

GraveRobber keeps with his nail cleaning and humming until all ten of his fingers have been cleaned of a substance we probably don't want to know anything about.

Then, the knife still in his hand, he raises his eyebrows at the girl, then smirks.

[regency_twihard]

She's not sure that she likes that smirk and she's about to go back to her rummaging. She wants to give him a glare of disdain, but she's still trying to make sense of his outlandish garb.

[not_snake_bite]

Should Catherine wander into the library, she may come across a strange scholar, dressed in strict garb that could pass for obsolete, perhaps the previous century.

Steerpike is hunched over a pile of books and reciting to himself something that sounds decidedly arcane. He is in fact quite absorbed in his study.

[regency_twihard]

It's likely getting on towards evening, and Catherine was looking for something to read in bed. Entering the now slightly darkened library and spying the young scholar, she pauses, watching him. It's as if he crawled out of the pages of "The Necromancer of the Black Forest" (Yes, this is a real book title...) and into this shadowy nook. She edges closer, trying to get a look at the titles of the books on the table and trying to be as quiet as possible.

[not_snake_bite]

Steerpike is not oblivious to the spying young woman - and she's nothing to sneeze at, but more importantly, he does not know who she is.

He keeps on writing his note, and says, slowly, without looking at her, "It's usually polite to introduce oneself, when nosing around another person's work, lady."

[regency_twihard]

She backs away a little. "I'm sorry, sir: I was trying not to disturb you," she says. "I've never seen books like that, I've only read about them in novels. I'm Catherine Morland, of Fullerton. I am sorry if I was interloping," she says, dropping a curtsy to him. Hoping he doesn't turn her into an animal or lock her in a deep enchanted sleep for her misstep."