IC CLOSED ANACHRONISTIC Black Rose Chateau || SPIDER IC

[MaryGold]

Our house, our home...

Black Rose Chateau has been in the Fontaine family since the country was built. And for centuries it has been passed down to the family's heirs, sons, and daughters who took the keys from their parent's hands and maintained the chateau as they promised to do. As they were raised to do.

This generation, however, had missed that lesson.

Emrys Fontaine, son of Magnus Fontaine, was raised outside of the Black Rose grounds. His father had abandoned his responsibilities, words that Melchior Fontaine wrote to his great-grandson time and time again. And now, the chateau key was passed onto him. Had he and his family not needed the escape, he would have let the home rot.

But not long after moving in, the Fontaines found that perhaps it was already rotting. The wallpapers were old and in some areas beginning to peel and grey. The worst aspects were hidden by the rows of paintings and portraits that lined the wall. The floorboards of the stairway creaked with every other step and the floorboards were covered in levels of dust that had never been cleaned in years. And every room, there was always a cold draft and wind that bagged against the glass windows.

Electricity was only installed in half the house. There were seven bedrooms, and only 3 of them could light a lamp. The rest were forced to use candles and candelabras.

As the family sat at their dining room table to enjoy dinner together, the room was lit by the old candle holders hidden away in the closets and store closets. The room was larger, and quiet except for the voices of the people who occupied it. The faces of the ancestors who hung on the walls peered down at the people as if watching their every move. Judging.

@wren. @PavellumPendulum @cyhel @Amira Muharib @DemonLordCry

GM NOTES​

• It is getting late and the family is sat down for dinner after a week of moving into the chateau
• Remember your post can be as little or as long as you'd like. Just give enough of a reply for members to reply to.

 

[DemonLordCry]

AMOSIS

When Amosis arrived at the home he was impressed by its size, he had asked to stay for a few months to get away from his publisher and editor, the past few months he been drawing blanks for a novel. So had thought escaping from the pressure he would be able to find some ideas… but seeing the home now. He felt like he was dropped in one of his novels.

he had decided against exploring the large home, at least the ffirst few days of being there, he kept his room clean and didn't move much of anything. He just set up a small space to work on and kept to himself. it was when he kept blanking that he went to explore hoping for an item or an idea.

Now, a week finished and he sat at the dinning table with the other family. the twins, his sister and her wife. He glanced at the butler, before sighing and raised his empty glass "Would you be so kind to bring me some wine tonight, Byron" He asked, never been one to drink always asking for water but he felt slightly stressed, "I need something to drink, it's been a long week."

「 #Dinning Room, @wren.
」

credits

 

[PavellumPendulum]

RUNE

Rune had never been a stranger to dreary, suffocating homes. When her family had packed up and moved into the Black Rose Chateau, seeking refuge, seeking a unity that had felt too foggy around the edges to grasp since the incident, she had almost felt like she was returning home. The Astellans had always kept a dustless home, through the work of a handful of servants, but the neglected wallpaper and the heavy, freezing air that blanketed her within the chateau's walls were strangely comforting, if not just familiar.

Methodically, she tore through her dinner. Her serving of three steaks was disappearing down her gullet, satiating the ghoul within and for that, she could only be thankful. Though her family had lived through many less than ideal incidents, she had at least, not once in the past few years, found herself going hungry or lacking in the proper diet. Em kept her appropriately fed and even knew her favourite meals like the back of his hand.

In a show of affection, she rested her eyes upon him at the dinner table, despite the tension surrounding them, at least until Asmosis requested wine. Rune nodded in Byron's direction. "A red, if you would."

「 @wren. @MaryGold 」

Code by wren.

 

[peach]

Nettie sat stiffly in her dining chair, her hair neatly pulled into a half up and half down ponytail. She was dressed primly, perhaps not even a hair out of place as she cut her dinner into more manageable pieces.

The air was thick, it hung in the halls like clouds of icy winds and stunk of dust and oddly enough…. Cave water. The feeling was eerily reminiscent of an ancient tomb, locked away from any warmth of the living.

Nanette is pulled from her dreary observations by the sounds of her parents' voices. She flicked her eyes towards Byron, pursing her lips for a split second as she did. " I was just about to get up and go grab myself an extra napkin. I'll bring the wine if you'd like, it's no trouble, Mother." She offered with a voice like a dense winter's fog.

It made her slightly uncomfortable to have Byron fetching things for her family so often. Nettie would much rather think that if she were to keep taking things off of his plate, maybe the pay he was awarded would be worth it. She couldn't imagine responding to a family's every whim, it must have been exhausting work. Just folding the laundry by herself would have her in a foul mood.

 

[Dusk]

N E V I L L E

Neville sat in opposition to his sister, his posture slouched forward as he picked lazily at the food on his plate. He wasn't particularly hungry, perhaps put off by the paintings that watched them. The house was old and eerie, and it never quite seemed at rest. Every little movement made a sound. It was pretty, but that was where the charm ended. Neville would've taken an uglier building with modern amenities. There was a lot for him, in particular, to hate about the house. One thing he hated, was the lack of electricity. Even if they were just candles, he hated to see the exposed flames dancing on their wicks, waiting for one ill-timed nudge to set the whole house alight.

The young man groaned quietly at Nettie's suggestion that she grab the wine. It wasn't as if Byron was their slave — he was employed, it was his job to do things for them. She always viewed him as more of a playmate than anything. But Neville shrugged it off, even if he hoped his sister had heard his exasperation. Instead, he tried to focus his attention on something else — anything to avoid fixating on the uncomfortable paintings which watched them with unblinking eyes. He searched the table for a distraction, hoping someone would say something as he tried to come up with an interesting topic of his own.

code by wren.

 

[MaryGold]

Emyrs and the Chateau

When he was just a boy, Emrys remembered visiting the chateau once. It was a glorious home, built with sturdy and glamorous material. Stair rails covered in gold flakes, tables built of solid mahogany, statues of marble built by big names from Italy, and possessed by its well-dressed master. The chateau not only flaunted the wealth of the Fontaine legacy but withstood the damage and madness of time. At least it had before, now one could not only hear every creak but feel it. There was a film of dust nearly everywhere, making it inescapable.

Though the chateau had changed, one thing remained the same, how eerie it felt. Emrys remembered how there was very little staff around and the ones that had hard and cold expressions. Now, even in this place he had inherited, Emrys could not yet call it a home. There was plenty of renovating to be done and installations, but what would change the aura? Or was that simply the aura they had brought with them, feeling less of themselves than they had been before the attack?

Emrys chewed on his meal, but it tasted like glue in his mouth when his mind was not present. They would need to install a security system if possible. One of the very reasons he decided to move with his family to this place was because it was only near a small town, but still a walk away from it. They were secluded from danger, but they knew better than ever now that danger would come knocking if it very well pleased.

When he looked up from his plate, he caught sight of his dinner leaving the dinner table. Her lips moved, but her voice reached his ears as a soft voice, one that he needed to turn his head so his good ear could hear. Wine. Ah, Rune, had requested it from Byron.

A smile slid onto his face as she removed herself from the table. Byron was just as much an employed helper as he was a family friend, though Nannette saw him more as the former. Emrys still cooked meals and cleaned, but he couldn't do everything by himself, and now more than ever.

"With this place, we'll need to hire more help. Perhaps you can help me with the vetting process, Byron. We can put out an ad in the paper." Emrys said to the man, taking a second bite of his growing cold steak.

Emrys didn't hear it as loudly, but he felt it when the dining table trembled violently. Shattering glass so loud one would have thought it came from the first floor, but the shaking of the ceiling and walls made it clear it came from the second floor as dust fluttered onto the floor. Though were the shaking of the room should have stopped nearly as soon as it started, it lasted a moment too long, etching spare forks onto the floor.

As suddenly as it started, it stopped.

@wren. @PavellumPendulum @DemonLordCry @Dusk @peach

 

[PavellumPendulum]

RUNE

Nettie's attachment to Byron had been noted by Rune since her childhood, but she never paid it much mind. Though Rune was strict about accomplishments and progress, status was not as pivotal in her mind. Being a servant was a noble enough job and there were far worse things in the world for Nanette to do than insist on befriending the hired help. Neville's eyes shifted uncomfortably, but he tacked nothing more onto the order. In the end, Rune gave Nanette a flick of the wrist, a wave that she was well-acquainted with by now, meaning, 'Do it if you want. As long as it gets done.'

Rune had a way of conveying what she meant with the slightest of movements. It was a language that one grew accustomed to when interacting with her.

Em talked of hiring more help. Rune dug into her steak, canines slicing into the tender meat with ease. All was fine, at least, until the world became dislodged from the tapestry of space. She stilled, every muscle in her body tensing, still remembering the strain of military training. Candles shuddered, wicks threatening to extinguish, or worse, tip over and set their new home ablaze. Flatly, Rune wondered if some of the damp, rotting wood would even serve as decent kindling.

The house exhaled when the trembling stopped, sewn tightly back into the foundations by some unseen hand. The world stabilized. Rune's narrowed eyes flicked to her children, to her half-brother, then to her husband.

She stood, her chair scraping against the floor. Her steaks would have to wait. She licked her lips.

"The second floor."

It was not much of an explanation, but rarely did she explain herself unless she deemed it necessary. She started towards the staircase, heavy blonde braids thumping lightly against her back.

「 ♚ 」

Code by wren.

 

[wren.]

hh

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BYRON

Although Mr. Fontaine had swore up and down to never return to his family's estate, something he'd overheard while cleaning multiple times, his love for his family had apparently worn out when the time came for the key to Black Rose Chateau to be handed off to him. A fresh start, he'd called it. Although they've only spent a few nights in their new home, it doesn't feel like a "fresh" anything. The air is stagnant and dusty, the manor full of decaying decadence. It's beautiful, that can't be denied, but it's wasted on a family that doesn't even want to be there.

So, Byron has been doing his best to make it feel more homely. He's spent the last few days dusting every surface in the house, washing the bedding and pillows, lighting scented candles, polishing the furniture, sweeping and mopping the floors... It's hard to tell if the Fontaines are appreciative of his efforts, except for Nettie who has always been especially kind to him, but he can certainly feel their eyes following him around the place. He's not entirely sure why, but it seems to be getting to his head, as he's finding himself feeling watched in nearly every room in the house, even when he turns and finds no one there.

"Would you be so kind to bring me some wine tonight, Byron."

Mr. Takami's voice startles him out of his thoughts, his mind wandering aimlessly as he stands beside the family's table, waiting for them to finish the dinner he'd prepared so that he can eat his own leftover portion alone in his room. "Of course, sir," he smiles politely, turning toward the kitchen but pausing at Mrs. Fontaine's added instruction. He smiles again, nodding silently to acknowledge her before turning toward the kitchen.

Nettie's gentle voice stops him, her intention clearly to be less of a burden on him, though there's really no need for her concern. He's a servant; it's his job to cater to them. Neville seems to agree with that point, as Nettie's generosity causes him to groan with irritation, making Byron's appreciative smile falter slightly. "It's really no trouble, Miss Fontaine. I can grab more napkins as well."

When he returns with the napkins and wine and begins filling Mr. Takami and Mrs. Fontaine's glasses, Mr. Fontaine's voice catches him by surprise. "Oh, yes?" he says, blinking owlishly. He steps back before he overfills the wine glasses, clutching the bottle close to his chest. "I suppose this is a large building. It would be nice to have someone to help me with cleaning it."

Before he can say more, a sudden earthquake strikes the building. The wine he'd just poured spills all over the poor tablecloth as the glasses fall and spin off of the table, shattering on the ground below while the dancing silverware follows suit with clinking noises. He tries not to drop the wine bottle as he attempts to steady himself by grabbing the table, but he only winds up crashing to the ground with a red-stained shirt for his efforts.

It doesn't last long, and aside from the chandelier still swinging threateningly above them, the damage done to their dinnerware, and his sore bum, it doesn't seem to have been too detrimental. "I didn't realize this place gets earthquakes," he frowns, hauling himself to his feet with a grunt, setting the wine bottle on the soiled table before pulling at the cold, wet fabric clinging uncomfortably to his skin.

Rune jumps up from the table and moves toward the staircase with authority, ordering them all to follow her without so many words. Right, the shaking had seemed more violent on the ceiling and walls, tendrils of dust that he'd missed in the pitted corners and cracks dusting the food he'd spent hours on and making his nose itch. It makes sense that the cause of the commotion came from upstairs, though that also means it wasn't an earthquake. So what was it?

「 @everyone 」

LOCATION | INTERACTIONS | MENTIONS

credits

 

[Dusk]

N E V I L L E

Neville poked idly at his food, tearing and twisting at it before taking a small bite. He could taste the salt of the steak. His father said they were going to need more help, and Neville nodded to himself. That made sense, Black Rose Château was a large place. He didn't have long to ponder on the implications of new staff, however, as the building shook with violence. He dropped his fork, adding to the clatter of upset dishware, and gripped the edge of the table. His eyes jumped swiftly from his plate to the faces of his family around him.

And then it stopped. The fuck? Neville would've thought it was an earthquake, except earthquakes didn't start on the second floor.

Byron had tumbled as a result, and Neville's lavender eyes drifted over to their servant. He appeared unharmed, although his shirt was hopelessly stained. Neville decided Byron looked fine enough that he didn't bother to ask him about his welfare, however, his gaze did linger on him a moment before Neville's attention snapped to his mother. She declared what he had already figured out — that the tremor had originated from the second floor — and stood. She wasted no time as she headed for the staircase. Neville followed her lead, pushing his chair back from the table with a scraping sound that burned his ears.

code by wren.