acrookedchild: (He found a crooked sixpence)
Abigail Widdowson ([personal profile] acrookedchild) wrote in [community profile] 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!)
kleptofaeniac: (pic#9185282)

[personal profile] kleptofaeniac 2015-07-08 09:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Kenzi's glare narrowed considerably, and yet if she knew his assumption of her she'd be pleased. Kenzi did enjoy the fashion, it was true - but part of the reason she still dressed like this post teen years was because people constantly underestimated her.

However, since she isn't a mind reader, Kenzi just thinks Jackson's a douchebag - end of story.

She scoffs and flaps a hand dismissively at him with as much disdain as her little heart can muster.

"Whatever, just direct your toolitosis in another direction, buddy."
damnyank: (pic#9313060)

[personal profile] damnyank 2015-07-10 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
"Hey, I'm not the one who started this."

That's not the response of a grown ass man. Even though he may be dressed his age, Jackson sure knows a thing or two about acting petulant and juvenile. The smile that's pulling at the edges of his mouth? That just says how much he's enjoying this all.

"Toolitosis, huh?" He fakes an impressed look. "At least you got your suffix right."
kleptofaeniac: (pic#8464570)

[personal profile] kleptofaeniac 2015-07-10 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh good, he's going to keep it going. Usually Kenzi didn't manage to get into 'asshole-offs' because people were too chicken shit. She's almost eager about this.

"Are you sure you should be using your whole vocab in one sentence?"

She makes sure to look just as unimpressed as she can possibly manage.
damnyank: (4)

[personal profile] damnyank 2015-07-14 01:43 am (UTC)(link)
Okay, Jackson's just got to roll his eyes there. He could play along, whip out his lexicon of scientific jargon and big, antiquated words, but what would that prove? That he's an immature grownass adult?

(Well, he kinda is.)

"I've got no intention of playin' high school cafeteria with you, kid." He blows out a cloud of smoke. "So what are you really here for? Rebelling against your parents by sneakin' out to a party?"
Edited 2015-07-14 01:44 (UTC)
kleptofaeniac: (')

[personal profile] kleptofaeniac 2015-07-14 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
Kenzi wasn't looking to admit exactly why she was here. These were volatile times for dark witches to go public, and while that was the purpose of this party Abigail was the only one officially making herself known.

So she wouldn't be telling him a damn thing tonight. Kenzi smiles stupidly shakes her glass at him.

"Didn't you hear? Drinks is free."
damnyank: (pic#9313060)

[personal profile] damnyank 2015-07-15 12:20 am (UTC)(link)
Jackson lifts shot from the tray, raising it in acknowledgement. "Free food, too."

However, he isn't stupid-- you don't get an invite to a party like this, or hear about it, unless you're connected to magic. If it was simply a matter of getting drunk, any mundane human party would do, but just like Jackson, she must have other intentions. Nevermind that he can sense the magic about her.

Or she could just be a rebellious teenage witch. Sabrina in eyeliner and black. He throws back the shot to that thought.

"Now why are you really here?" He asks, eyes fixing on her.
kleptofaeniac: (2441023 (9))

[personal profile] kleptofaeniac 2015-07-22 03:28 am (UTC)(link)
Kenzi's stink-eye increases as Jackson presses the line of inquiry. What is this guy's deal? He couldn't take a hint?

"I got an invite in the mail like everyone else here, Hope." In reference to Sherrinford Hope, London's greatest fictional detective - as penned by Sir Doyle.

Kenzi pours herself another drink and makes to walk away, hopefully he won't try to grill her anymore but ...she's never actually been that lucky.
damnyank: (4)

[personal profile] damnyank 2015-07-31 09:48 am (UTC)(link)
As Kenzi walks away, Jackson turns around, to offer up a few words of advice.

"Just be careful, kid. You don't know who might turn up for a shindig like this. Unsavory witches. Troublesome Fae." A beat, as he gestures to his neck. "Guests that would be keen for an easy meal."
kleptofaeniac: (pic#6409527)

[personal profile] kleptofaeniac 2015-08-01 02:09 am (UTC)(link)
"Don't worry, gramps." Hey, if you're going to call her 'kid' she's going to call you something stupid too.

"I can look out for myself."