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!)
no subject
She keeps herself from laughing when he jumps up and does the whole 'act normal' thing. She'll play along.
"The bathroom, huh?" She pulls a face that says she might be considering believing that, but changes her mind as she shows the thin metal pins that make up her lock-picking set.
"I guess you don't want these then."
It occurs to her just after she says it that he might have literally no idea what she's holding. But he's a nosy kid, he has to at least have a cursory knowledge of breaking and entering.
no subject
"Oh thank god. Now I don't have to kick the door down."
A little too eager, he moves aside and gestures to the door for her.
no subject
"I think Abby might have you strung up by your thumbs if you did that."
She says as she starts breaking into the room. At least she doesn't doubt you could kick the door down, Stiles? She hums quietly as she starts getting to work.
These older houses don't tend to have complicated levers to hit. Usually only three or four for outer wall doors, one to two for indoors.
"Y'know if you want, I can make you a lock-pick charm."
It'll cost you. is hinted at.
no subject
“Abby, huh? Sounds like you know her personally.”
no subject
Kenzi shrugs, trying for blasé. She isn't planning on letting anyone find out why she's here.
"Well, we did get fae-napped together for that stupid beauty contest party."
That's a good enough reason to call the girl by a nickname, right? At least, Kenzi thinks so.
Click two.
And bingo, the lock is pulled out of place, and Kenzi pushes open the door.
"After you?"
no subject
The fae-appointed summer prince, now distracted, marches purposefully past Kenzi and into the room. It's pitch black in there, so he fumbles around the wall in the hopes of finding a light switch. His hand passes along something cool and he jerks back in surprise, laughing nervously.
no subject
She's allowed to mock you. Beauty contests are not all that, besides the fact that she and a few other girls were kidnapped to be the female contestant. She's guessing he wasn't so fortunate as to be unwillingly chosen.
Kenzi pockets her lockpicks and closes the door behind them both. She doesn't do things that'll get her in trouble because she likes being in trouble.
"Dude, turn on the light!"
no subject
A few moments later and the cold, artificial light of his iPhone is illuminating the room. When he locates the light switch, it flips on to no effect. Stiles tries it a few times, scowling.
"Can't you do some...I don't know, witchy stuff to get us some light!?"
Because he really doesn't want to have to rely on his phone. The battery is already too low.
no subject
"Oh yeah, sure! Why don't I just predict the winning lotto numbers for next month too!"
As she says it, Kenzi pulls out her phone for a light source too.
"I don't know elemental magic, jackass."
Humans.