Stroke of Midnight [OPEN]

[acrookedchild]

Miss Abigail Widdowson cordially invites you to Geap Manor on Wednesday, July 1st at 19:00.

Food, drinks, and music will be provided.

All are welcome, but individuals are to be aware that any hostilities during the evening's festivities will not be tolerated.

It is the first time in at least a generation that the doors of Geap Manor have been opened to the general population. Or, at least, as general as the supernatural community could be considered. Some invitiations were made personally, but most were formally sent to the higher ranking members of the various factions.

Dinner is announced precisely at 19:30. The small, intimate eating area for the family has been turned into a buffet room. The caterers Abigail hired have obviously been paid well to make sure there is something for everyone. Rich meat dishes, hearty vegetarian dishes, light fish dishes, plenty of accompaniments and finger food. There is also plenty of fairly fresh blood for vampires. For the others, there are wines, water, and tea available.

The grand dining room has had its large table removed, replaced, instead, by small tables that can comfortably hold four. They can, of course, be pushed together to allow for more room.

The ballroom is open to the guests, and the DJ has also been highly paid to make sure the music played is precisely to the hostess's tastes. There is plenty of modern music, good for dancing, as well as older classics. However, interspersed are classical pieces meant for waltzes and foxtrots and other such ballroom dances.

In the sitting room is a drink cart with wine, tea, water, and blood. Chairs and divans are available, as the room is a quiet place, a little away from the ballroom, so conversation can be had with ease. There is an unlit fireplace, and a portrait of Abigail a few years younger than she is now hangs above it.

Most of the rest of the house is locked. One can wander the hallways, but it may prove ultimately fruitless. One who simply walks up the stairways will find the walls of each lined with the Widdowson family portraits of every generation, starting with one of a ten-year-old Abby, her parents, and her six-year-old brother. As one takes in all the paintings, a pattern presents itself. Every Widdowson woman featured is pale, thin, and blonde.

The grounds are beautifully maintained and fenced in by wrought iron on top of stone. A very traditional look for such an imposing manor. On the path from the street to the house, there's little remarkable, save the knocker on the door. Behind the house, however, if one ventures away, one might get the keen sense of something from inside the house watching, waiting, and hungering. On the ground floor, the locked rooms are mostly unremarkable, save for the study at the back of the house. Linger too long near there, and one might hear a sound coming in a pattering set. It isn't a knock against the door, no. Instead, it is the sound of something hitting the wall. If someone were to force their way into the nursery on the second floor or the attic several stories up... Well. They likely won't be coming back to the party. Or to anything.

Wandering, of course, isn't a suggested enterprise. The old house doesn't like people poking around and trying to find its secrets.


(Everyone who has at least a familiarity with the supernatural is welcome, as the invitations were distributed widely. Mingle, make your own top comments, enjoy the food, etc!)

Comments

[constantprisoner]

[Dinner]

[There's no denying that Sirius is a little nervous about being here, especially in his human form, but at the same time he felt he owed it to Abby. After all, he had been mooching off her flat for a few days. It probably would have been worth it to mention that at some point but what could you do? What was life without a little risk after all?

He's managed to find some decent clothes for the event as well, though who can say how, and has made his way to the table in the back with a full plate of food.]

[Sitting Room]

[There was a time when Sirius would have happily been the life of the party, but it's hard when you're doing your best to not cause trouble. It occurs to him that the ballroom is probably a better place to hide in plain sight but he's not really interested in dancing.

Instead, he'll just be admiring the room, taking everything in.]

Dinner

[acrookedchild]

[Abigail has another little plate of food, ready to mingle at another table. It's easy enough, snacking here and there in order to try and sit with everyone. This man is one she doesn't recognize, but she takes a seat at his table without invitation. After all, this is her home.]

Thank you for coming.

[It's only right to say.]

[constantprisoner]

[Sirius responds with a nod.]

Thank you for hosting, it's a wonderful party.

[He's torn about whether or not to reveal his identity, but playing it safe has worked so far.]

[acrookedchild]

Hopefully everything keeps going smoothly.

[It's a strange remark to make, but, even as she says it, she reaches out to briefly rap her knuckles against the table. A very, very quiet, very subtle knock against the wood.]

Are you here with any particular faction?

['Know your enemies.' Just in case.]

[constantprisoner]

Not exactly. I've been out of town for a while, so I don't really have connections anywhere.

[He may or may not be procrastinating on making contact with the Hillingdon Clan. He's still not sure how that's going to go.]

I was simply curious.

[acrookedchild]

Well, you're certainly welcome here.

[For the party, at least. Geap Manor welcomed few, but it wouldn't do much as long as there were several here respecting it and its rules.]

Sitting Room

[rules_winter]

When Mab entered the room Sirius was the only person inside and he seems content looking around. He looks a little scruffy but it doesn't seem out of place in Miss Widdowson's home. Though something tells her sitting in a quiet room admiring the filigreed bar ware is not his comfort space. She had on her human glamor, which toned down all the unnatural fae beauty at least. But he might be able to smell the scent of fresh snow on her.

"Have I intruded?" She asked more because apparently it was polite to do so than because she planned to leave if she had.

[constantprisoner]

The smell of snow was something that caught Sirius off guard, considering the old and musty smell of the room (it reminded him of the library in Grimmauld Place, which was both comforting and less than welcome). He glances around the room before settling on Mab.

"Not at all," he replies, "I was just looking around."

[rules_winter]

He does not become immediately defensive which is helpful. He seems pleasant even, polite. Mab drifted further into the room, two fingers traveling along a wooden side table as her gaze moved first around the room taking it in and finally back to the man inside. "And have you found anything interesting to look at?" She asked him, some humor in her voice. Her drifting took her much closer to him, close enough that even toned down her coloring looks a little odd. Maybe she doesn't get out much.

His hair, she notices, is on the long side. It is a common length among the high Fae but not as common in adult males that she has met. And he carries a feel of magic but not fae. Not quite witch either. Curious. The sounds of the party are muted and the room itself feels more intimate, like a fire and a good book on a rainy day. "I do not believe we have met."

[constantprisoner]

There's really two ways that Sirius can approach his situation, treating everyone as a potential enemy or being polite. Considering his innocence and that he's had some time to think about it, the latter is likely more effective. He doesn't want to arouse any more suspicion than he already has. He keeps his wits about him though.

"A few things. The portraits at least."

It's hard not to be reminded of his own family in a place like this.

"But no, I don't think we have, miss..."

[rules_winter]

Being polite is always a good choice when one does not know to whom they speak. Her eyes lift to the pictures on the wall and she sees the one Abigail mentioned to her earlier, in it's place above the fireplace. She is such a tiny thing, but she has spirit.

Her gaze shifted back to Sirius and she glided across the floor in even, graceful steps, unhurried, lifting one hand. "You may call me Ms. Sommerset." She offered. It was the name she had given Abigail Widdowson and not knowing how many dark witches were about, it was best to keep a lid on how many people could summon her for now. There was plenty of time to find witches with potential and offer them such a jewel.

Being fae meant she had no idea Sirius was any kind of escapee. He was simply another human with a faint feel of magic. Albeit a polite one. Mab could approve of politeness when it served.

Dinner

[detectiveofthewest]

Sirius smelled... familiar. Really familiar, in fact. And Heiji had so few tension-free encounters with dogs that it didn't take him long to put his finger on why, exactly, he'd gotten such a feeling of deja vu.

"Hey there! Enjoyin' yourself?"

[constantprisoner]

As Sirius looks up there's a brief spark of recognition in his eyes that he immediately tries to hide. He hadn't really expected to see someone like Heiji here, but at the same time he realizes that he was likely wrong in that respect. Abigail had invited most of the supernatural community after all.

"Indeed I am." The food is great and Sirius is very happy to be eating a proper meal. Who knew he'd miss vegetables?

"And yourself?"

[detectiveofthewest]

He laughed. "Eh, can't complain. The music's better than at that Redbright party, that's for sure. I'm Heiji, by the way. Nice to meet ya."

And he held out his hand for a shake. If Sirius still had a plate in his hand, hopefully he was good at balancing acts...

[constantprisoner]

He'll have to take Heiji's word for it since he missed that one. Thankfully his plate is already on the table, so he takes the offered hand and gives it a firm shake.

"Sirius, the same to you."

Sitting Room

[kleptofaeniac]

[It's after dinner, and a lot of people are resting before going on the dance floor. Kenzi included. While she's not that bad at subtlety - sometimes being direct was the better approach.]

How do you know Abigail?

[Kenzi isn't normally a fan of strangers when she's not trying to con them out of their money, but she saw him and Abigail talking at dinner, and she figures if she's going to be joining a coven with this girl that she needs to know what the people around her are like.]

[constantprisoner]

[Sirius is caught off guard a little by the sudden question. While he doesn't mind the direct approach in a conversation, he was lost in thought enough for it take a moment to realize she was speaking to him.]

I don't really, tonight was the first time we've met. I'm sort of new to the area.

[We're just not going to mention the dog thing.]

Dinner, I'm so sorry

[eyeforaneye]

[ His own silence throughout the evening has been pointed and entirely characteristic... and has left plenty of time to stare at everyone else, Sirius very much included. So when he finally does open his mouth to speak to the man whose table he's invaded it might seem like something poignant would come out but no. This is Sasuke. It's just uncomfortably blunt instead. ]

... you look a little taxidermied. Like someone dressed up for his own funeral. Are you alright? [ What the hell does this even mean. ]

It's fine, I laughed

[constantprisoner]

[Sirius is not entirely sure how to respond at first. He knew his time in prison hadn't done much for him, but he'd at least tried to clean himself up for the party. Although he's not so much insulted as amused by the bluntness of it all.]

Perfectly fine, to be honest, or at least, I don't think I'm going to keel over.

oh good I was worried you'd be too Sirius about it

[eyeforaneye]

You're assuming that there isn't a wide berth settled between 'fine' and 'collapsed'. Are you unused to parties like this?

...pft....

[constantprisoner]

It's been a while since I've been to one, but do I really look like I'm going to faint?

late SITTING ROOM tag okay? :c

[whatmatters]

[Ringer is similarly trying not to cause trouble. She's been wandering about most of the evening, looking to gain all the information she can without slipping anywhere she's expressly unwelcome. Now it's time for a break and she grabs a cup of tea and glances around the room. Most of the seats are taken, bringing her to wander up to the well dressed older man who seems equally interested in watching people rather than engaging them.]

Is this seat taken? [She asks lightly, as much because it's one of the few that's not as because it might be a nice way to begin conversation. Maybe the man has some keen observations to share, she thinks, though it might be hoping for too much.]

Absolutely okay

[constantprisoner]

[Sirius looks up, waking from his thoughts suddenly. It's been far too easy tonight to drift off and he blames the meal he had (despite how good it was.]

I wasn't saving it for anyone. Please, go ahead.

Thanks!

[whatmatters]

Thanks. [Ringer sits, back straight and legs crossed with a clear education of decorum. She stirs her tea as she looks out at the people, then sets the spoon on the saucer and settles the cup and saucer on her lap, waiting for the drink to cool. After a moment, she looks to the man again.]

Are you a friend of the host's? If I may ask.

[constantprisoner]

An acquaintance really. I only just returned to London after a long absence.

[Seems to be a popular question for him these days, but he supposes that's to be expected. Technically he is a newcomer.]

And you?