Abigail Widdowson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
acrookedchild) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2015-07-01 07:21 am
acrookedchild) wrote in undergrounds2015-07-01 07:21 am
Stroke of Midnight [OPEN]
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!)
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!)
3
"...Oh, it's you." Whatever that meant...
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"Sorry, guess there're a lotta faces around here to mix up. Um... you a friend of the family?"
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"Yeah. I met Abigail a while back. Figured she could use all the support she could possibly get right about now." He was here regardless of what his nest's official policy was. "What about you?"
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The parallels between tonight's party and speech and the events of the May Ball didn't escape him. But words were only words; time would tell which witch was which.
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"Life's short." Human life, anyway. "If you don't have a home, it's even shorter. And there's no air conditioning."
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"Seems a little beyond your run-of-the-mill family genetics, don't it?" It was a little creepy, though Heiji was keeping any thoughts of his own light for now. It was a party, after all, and doubtless there would be consequences for the events of today. "You'd think sooner or later, they'd come up with a redhead or a brunette or someone with a bit of baby fat. Then again, neither of my folks is dark-skinned."
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He rubs his chin, thinking things over. "Regular genetics are one thing. Throw magic in the mix and things get tricky. Doubt there's some nice, normal explanation for it all. That would be too convenient." Undoubtedly, there was something eerie going on behind the scenes. Maybe they were sacrificing infants on an altar in a back room or something equally devious. Who could say?
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"That sounds sinister. Magic like that don't come without a price. Best not to get yourself mixed in with that kind of trouble in the first place -- invest in a diet and some hair dye instead." He never could understand what it was with humans and their need to absorb fields of magical power bigger than their own head.
Then again, he could see Sasuke making the same mistake.
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"Wonder what that price was 'n who's gonna have t'eventually pay it." Seeing as how Abigail is the last of her line, it looks like that was already coming into play. There was a worrisome thought for Cooper to mull over.
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"Probably nothin' good," said Heiji. "Why, you thinkin' of meddling? Ain't like refinancing your car. I'm guessin' the transaction fees would be pretty steep."
These deals always eventually bit someone in the ass. It was only a question of when.
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"No thanks. I've got enough going on in my life without tryin' to take on some centuries-old magic." He wouldn't even know where to begin with something like that. Besides, he wasn't even sure if Abigail needed to be "saved" from anything. Maybe she was just fine with the way the status quo was.
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"Be nice if folks ain't mess with this kinda thing in the first place. Raisin' the dead, blood pacts, that kinda stuff. But I guess as long as the possibility's there, there'll always be someone tempted to take advantage of it."
It was human nature. Which was exactly why he didn't think Redbright's way of doing things would pan out.
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"If I ever get that stupid about power, please push me out inta the sunlight."
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"But no matter how big a fish ya are, there's always a bigger one out there. I don't think people get that." It was probably why humans were so obsessed with domination, with control.
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He eyes Heiji, sizing him up. "So what're you? The little fish or the big 'un?"
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Heiji was a good seven inches taller then Cooper*, with short dark hair and dark skin. His suit was not overly expensive and he looked relatively comfortable in it, if not especially thrilled about the constriction of movement. He carried himself with a casual, easy confidence and a sense of openness.
* Sorry brozinsky.
That's my second-favorite Heiji icon XD
what's your first favorite
God, now he was getting hungry. He could totally use an ayu or two like right now. Why didn't they have those at this party?
http://v.dreamwidth.org/8476953/1582396
"Aha!" He snapped his fingers and pointed one of them at the kitsune. "You're that weird trivia fox!"
haha I love that one
He didn't confirm Cooper's statement, but considering how weird an accusation it was, that was probably confirmation in itself?
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That way he can put a name if and when he sees a giant kitsune running around London again.
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"Don't think I did, but you can just call me Heiji. And what should I call you?" Since they seemed to be at that stage in the introductory process.
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