The House(New Roleplay)

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((IS my post f'ing invisible or something... ))

"Ill-temperament will not please me, and neither will your attempts to kill me, so if you would refrain...?"

((I saw it, I edited my post to take that into account.))

(((Edit: Blasted fast posting. Never mind.)))

"Don't. You would not succeed, and you would end up the worse. Or should I summon my bodyguards?"

Roland put away his guns and drew his coat back about himself.

"Then let us Palaver."

Then Roland squatted, waiting for this...being to speak.

(((Edit: Ack!)))

Wraith sighed, but not retract her wings. "Look," she said. "You came up rather suddenly, right after some thing attacked my companions. Now you say you want a parley, but you did not bother to introduce yourself until asked, and you won't say what you want. I will not attack you unless I see a reason to - further reason to, that is - but I am not going to stand here defenseless either. Is that acceptable?"

For a while, Mythra watched the others exchanging words, but she found her attention caught by an unavoidable pull to other areas...time was being wasted in this foolish banter. And so, she slipped away silently, and headed further along the side of the house, her intention being to go in alone. The more she thought about it, the more she considered it was better that way anyway. Not looking back, she crept slowly, keeping her body close to the house's brick.

Mr Oak looked at the three beings in front of him. No sense in telling them everything.

"I am a...hmmm, the appropriate phrase in the vernacular is a paranormal investigator, one who investigates the plethora of phantasmagoria that exists in the world. You all, no doubt, have some aspirations to this. What I actually personally want and why is not your business at all, as I intend to prevent something from occurring, although some...research is involved. However, I do want you to all be careful within this domicile, as I am sure no warnings of mine will prevent your ingress."

Mr Oak frowned.

"Oh, I do say! Your colleague, the one with the equine tranformative abilities, has vacated the area and is heading that way. I must emphasise this. Be careful. And Gunslinger, do be careful bringing the dead into this house. The dead have power in the house, and I would advice you to keep your necrotic hound on a short leash indeed. That is all, for the moment. And now I must depart. You should too, if you wish to find your friend."

Mr Oak strode back towards the door he came from, aware that the two were still watching him....

Roland ignored the man - he got feeling his influence had reached it's end.

He would have to catch up to Mythra.

"Mythra! Slow down!"

Roland then started running after her.

The air had begun to cool, she noted, as she moved further round the side of the house, finally seeing in sight the rear grounds which seemed to extend for miles and miles. Just the sort of place she would have liked to get lost in on occasion, but alas, now was not the time. Scanning the area briefly, she noted that all was quiet and wandered round further, turning to face the house. It seemed to rise high into the sky, it's wings jutting out a good two blocks on either side.

The windows looked to be old and in a poor state of repair, paint peeling from the sills and frames. She moved in closer and began to move along, pushing on the glass of a few to see if any were rotted enough to give under the pressure. Just as she was pushing on one of the central ones, she heard someone calling her name in the distance... Roland... and hesitated a moment, before deciding to go in alone, if at all possible. She just felt such a strong pull to this house, and she did not feel like sharing it with anyone else. She did not stop to consider that this thought might not even be her own.

With a final push, she lifted herself onto the wide ledge, and wriggled through, face down, sliding in with her hands out to protect her as she hit the floor. A cloud of dust rose up and she coughed as she pulled herself to her feet and looked around quickly. It appeared to be what would have once been a ballroom...vast, open space, devoid of anything...not even a piece of furniture lay in sight.

Pressing her hands to her head vaguely, she ran across to where a door lay on the other side, and opened it.

He'd been following Mythra's tracks for a while now with Thanatos'es help.

Rounding a corner he saw her enter the mansion through a window and then - to his utter horror.

The window seemed to melt away.

"f**k!"

Roland's face contorted into a look of utter rage.

"GODDAMNED HELLHOLE!"

He started back towards the clearing where Wraith would be.

He didn't want to her to go in alone - and to speak the truth he didn't want to either.

Mythra had just opened the large, heavy oak door, when she heard swearing faintly from behind her. Thinking someone had followed her, she spun around, to realise the window she had climbed through no longer existed. In it's place lay more brickwork. Her eyes widened for a moment, and she looked around nervously before stepping through the door.

She came into a long, long hallway, it's walls lined with portrait upon portrait of various people. The portraits were dark, and covered in a thick layer of dust. She took the time to look at a few...was it her imagination or did the eyes seem to follow her? As she walked along, she kept checking, her footsteps echoing unpleasantly around her. Her heart thudded in her chest as she tried to hurry onwards. Maybe she should have stayed with the others...at least more people meant less fear?

Her mind was playing odd tricks as well. She was sure she could hear whispers and there was the faint odour of blood that was leaving her nauseous. A few doors lined the right hand side of the corridor, and without thinking, she opened the first...it was as if it had drawn her to open it. She caught a glimpse of a vast library beyond, but that was all she had the chance to see before she found herself falling. The ground had given way beneath her and she fell fast, and landed hard.

She lay still for a while, waiting for pain, but all she could feel was a dull throbbing in her left wrist where she had tried to lessen the impact. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around and let out a gasp of horror. What the hell was going on? She had dreamt of this place...this dungeon with it's damp walls and dark stone. A plain bulb hung from the centre and along the walls were lined various instruments of torture. She closed her eyes and rubbed again, in hopes this was just a dream again...maybe she had been knocked out? But no, it was real.

Oh God, she thought, I hope the entire dream won't play out. Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she looked up to where she had fallen and realised she must be in the cellars...why had she not been more badly injured? She should have been... Eyes wide, and not able to think what to do, she did all she could think of and let out the loudest shout she could...telepathically.

Roland had been running as fast as he could to get back to the clearing.

But then he suddenly felt so sick he crashed to the ground and vomitted till he felt tired.

As he vomited, the message "HELP ME! IN THE CELLAR!" kept replaying in his head.

Eventually he got back to his feet - albeit a bit wobbly and started walking towards the clearing - he was too sick and tired to run.

She was not sure if her signal had reached anyone. She was fairly good at focussing in on a target, but sometimes, in heightened emotional states had been known to send too much energy. Either way, she could not see any way help would come in a hurry. She cursed as images from her dreams returned. Each time, she battled to shove them away...she really did not wish to experience the next part of her dream...and certainly NOT the one that came after.


Standing motionless, she looked around again. It was oddly tempting to go and study the instruments on the walls...some kind of strange curiosity...but resisted this. Instead, she leant back against one of the walls and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her scattered thoughts.

Minutes must have passed and still, all she could hear was the dripping of water from further along the chamber...and something else. What was that scraping noise? Her heart gave a lurch and she swallowed several times in fear as she slowly opened her eyes and turned towards the sound, fearful of what she might see...

Draining of all heat, she saw a sight she had hoped she would not be faced with. Stood, horribly illuminated by the single lightbulb was a gaunt man, his mouth pulled into a sadistic grin, his hand gripping a scythe, which he ran across the dungeon wall. Frantic, her attempts to reach someone became desperate, although she did attempt to rein in any excess energy... she tried so hard, but she feared all that would be heard by any recipient would be her panicked gasps which seemed to be reverberating through her mind,

'Please, hear me', she whispered, eyes looking bleakly up to the room that had led to this situation.

Roland was almost back to the clearing when he suddenly heard whispering.

It was a "help me" repeated time after time.

Roland was still too sick to hurry much but he quickened his pace a bit.

He and Wraith would have to find a way into the cellar - no scratch that.

He'd do it himself.

He stealthily got around the clearing with no difficulty and came to the massive front door of the house.

"Now how should I get through this damn thing?"