The Rose Cottage, A Social Supernatural Soap

Started by MrDiamondBackJack, September 05, 2010, 10:28:47 PM

Previous topic - Next topic

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

MrDiamondBackJack

Henry's Point was bustling with tourists.  They were walking on the board walk, trampling the beaches and paired to climb up into the inactive lighthouse.  Every summer it was like this.  The quiet little town on Lake Michigan became awash with the masses.

They spent money in Mary's Lighthouse Cafe and Annabel’s Antique Barn.  They bought up ice cream and souvenirs.  They fed the town, like a bear eating his summer away, in preparation for hibernation.

It was not all positive though.  Their clothing inadequately covered their often flabby bodies, as if they were in Florida, instead of a small Midwestern town.  They snapped pictures of everything and trampled across lawns as if they had a right to do so.  They treated locals like their personal servants and assumed that anything and everything was for sale.

Henry's Point was founded one hundred and twenty years ago by Henry Sallade.  He was shipping magnet who funded the lighthouse's construction.  He brought in the businesses, built warehouses and affordable housing.  His family ruled the town for nearly eight years, with different members taking turns as the mayor.  The Sallades were gone now, as was the shipping industry, but the town remained.  Fishing boats still came to its shores, giving the local economy a steady blood flow.  In the summer the tourists made up for the short falls of life.

On the edge of town, on a cliff overlooking Lake Michigan, stood The Rose Cottage.  It was a quaint Victorian house that had once belonged to Henry's Sallade's youngest daughter.  She had never been married, and had lived in it until she died.  For years it stood vacant, until Edna and Darien Marsh bought it.

The brother and sister had been in their thirties when they bought the house, but they were now in their fifties. Their intent was to open a bed and breakfast. They had repainted the outside a cheery rose color with white and baby blue accents.  They had put stain glass windows into each of the two gables.  The interior they had restored to its Victorian splendor.  They had the wall lamps rebuild with modern engineering, without taking away their antique aesthetic.

On July second Edna and Darien sat on their porch waiting.  There were supposed to be some visitors coming to day.  Darien sat on the white railing, looking toward the town.  He was a thin, weathered man in his middle fifties.  His handsome face had been exposed to more than twenty years of going out in his father's fishing boat.  His muscles were long and lean, from heavy work with the nets.  Today he was wearing his favorite red knit sweater and an old pair of blue jeans.  A Bass Master cap was set low on his head and the bill was creased and tattered.

His sister, Edna, sat in a rocking chair, holding their tabby cat Marshmallow.  She was a fine figure of a woman with a plump breast, wide hips and a narrow waist.  Her silver streaked brown hair was pulled back to the nape of her neck and curled into a neat bun.  Wire rimmed glasses showcased her pale blue eyes.  Her face was pleasant and rounded, with full pink lips.  Today she was wearing a white peasant blouse and a long brown skirt.  Her nimble fingers combed the cat out, as it preened for her.


OOC:  Any out-of-character chat goes at the end of your post.  Please don't put it at the beginning.  Please put OOC: before you start and keep it as limited as you can.  Please do NOT post any posts which are ONLY OOC.

This is a free thread, so jump in!  It is a small town soap opera and a free form social gaming thread.  It depends upon the players to get involved and have fun, though I will be throwing things in and keeping things moving.  There can be witches, ghosts, vampires, goblins, freshwater mermaids and any other things you feel like throwing in, except for mimes.

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

dragonsen

An old pickup truck slowed down at the base of the road leading up to the Rose Cottage. The truck's color was a faint memory underneath the rust that ate away at its body. The old farmer waited just long enough for the young man to hop out of the back with his bag before pushing the gas pedal again. The cloud of dust made the young man cough and cover his face with his elbow until the dust cloud settled. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he tramped up the hill.

Somehow, when he was in town, he had managed to offend just about everyone. Lord knows how since he had been polite in his requests for shelter and food. Perhaps it was because he failed to mention that he was willing to pay for those things but that was water under the bridge. The old farmer who had just left had told the young man about the new bed and breakfast being opened up. Desperate for a quiet place to rest, he asked the farmer if he could take the young man there. That was how Arthur Westmoreland found himself trudging up the road to the Rose Cottage. Finally, the cottage came into view and not many minutes later, he was standing at the foot of the steps looking up at the couple who were most likely the owners.

"Sir, Ma'am, my name is Arthur Westmoreland," Arthur began. "Do you have a spare room for a man down on his luck? I can pay some but I would prefer to do some work around the place for you in exchange."
Knowledge is the gathering of useless information - Arthvr Dragonsen
Discord: arthvrdragonsen
My Ons & Offs - My Plot Requests - My E AppKnown Absences - Story Lottery Profile - Stories

MrDiamondBackJack

#2
Darien watched as the young man exited Peter White's old scrap heap of a truck and started trudging toward their porch.  Damn old fool was sending another stray their way.  Peter knew that his sister was a softy for strays and would most likely take the boy in.  More than one lost dog and cat had ended up with them.  It had only been a year since the death of their last lost stray, a scruffy little terrier Edna had named Frankie.  He had just called it Fart Monster, because that was what the ugly little cuss was.  Of course, he had taken the dog fishing with him, scratched his belly and let him sleep on his feet, but that was only because it wasn't the critter's fault that he was a stupid smelly little mutt.

Edna stirred beside him, reaching a hand out to touch his arm, before he could respond to the young man.  "Be nice Darien.  It's only Christian charity and Lord knows that the boy could use so food on his bones before he heads off again.  There's a lot of landscaping still to do and your not getting any younger."  Her eyes twinkled as she stared down at the young man.  It had been awhile since she had a chance to care of someone and this was someone in need.


OOC:  Thank you for joining.  We'll have to see if anyone else joins.

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

dragonsen

"Thank you, ma'am. To be honest, you'll find it very difficult to put meat on these bones," Arthur said to the lady. "Please don't be offended if I don't gain any weight. Seems the only time I ever did was when I was strapped down to a hospital bed and forced fed for a solid week."

Arthur smiled slightly at the two older people. He wasn't going to bless his luck just yet. Words meant nothing to him unless they were backed up with action. That was what his father had taught him the hard way. Slowly, he sat down on the top step and waited for his hosts to decide what to do first with him.
Knowledge is the gathering of useless information - Arthvr Dragonsen
Discord: arthvrdragonsen
My Ons & Offs - My Plot Requests - My E AppKnown Absences - Story Lottery Profile - Stories

MrDiamondBackJack

Darien pushed his cap back and scratched his thick graying hair.  "I suppose so.  I'll give you a catch mister.  Bring your bag and come on up.  I'm sure Edna's gonna want to settle and feed you, before I get any work out of ya."  He stared at the younger man with his weathered face, checking him over again, just to be sure.

Edna got up, setting her cat on the porch floor, and opened the front door.  She was beaming.  "Well come along!  We'll get you settled and away from Mr. Grumps over there.  She waited for the young man to come up the stairs and follow her.

In the distance a RV Camper coming down the road.  She stared out at it and wondered if it was their paying guests. 


OOC:  I put up an advertisement, so we will see if we get any more players.

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

LadyMarisa

A young woman could be seen walking up the road to the cottage. Her pace was steady but leisurely, she was determined not to break a sweat. She apparently had missed a ride by only a few minutes and she was quite sure that she could have have appealed to the old man's sensibilities but the locals had kept giving her the run around and no one else was willing to assist at the moment. She didn't have time to wait for another person to take pity on her, she really needed to get some rest. She adjusted her clothing as she drew near to the cottage, keenly aware that her clothing was out of date. The woman at the counter in Annabel's had told her that she looked to have shopped in a high falutin vintage store. She frowned. I like my lace and velvet, I don't understand why they have fallen so out of fashion in these times. Ah well, she would have to make the best of it.

She smoothed her blonde hair as she approached the porch. Her waist length braid was mostly still intact but a few wisps had broked free around her temple and she wanted to make a better first impression than she had back in town. She was fairly sure the older couple were the owners, was the young man related to them perhaps? Or was he the reason she had just missed a ride? She smiled softly at all three, not knowing specifically who to address.

"Good day everyone" she said with a curtsey. "I was told back in town that I might find a room here" She looked each in the eyes in turn as she spoke. "Unfortunately, I do not have the right amount of currency to purchase goods here. I have very little of your good ole american u s dollars but I have have old and foreign currency being kept at the bank in town if you know of someone who could give a fair exchange?" She shook her head. "The bank said they would keep my things safe but that they did not have the ability to exchange the coins."
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, champagne in one hand - strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming: WOO HOO, WHAT A RIDE!

dragonsen

Arthur followed the old woman up the stairs. He chuckled as he thought of all the bad horror shows that started like this. City folk come to a rural town, find a place to stay in an out of the way building and during the night someone begins killing them, one by one, in the most horrifying ways. That thought ran out as he got to the top landing. Smiling at his host, he went into the room she indicated and set his bag down.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said softly. "If you don't mind, I need to lay down for a bit. Being broke is tiring work. I'll be happy to get to those chores in an hour, if that is alright with you."
Knowledge is the gathering of useless information - Arthvr Dragonsen
Discord: arthvrdragonsen
My Ons & Offs - My Plot Requests - My E AppKnown Absences - Story Lottery Profile - Stories

MrDiamondBackJack

#7
Quote from: LadyMarisa on September 15, 2010, 06:34:50 AM
A young woman could be seen walking up the road to the cottage. Her pace was steady but leisurely, she was determined not to break a sweat. She apparently had missed a ride by only a few minutes and she was quite sure that she could have have appealed to the old man's sensibilities but the locals had kept giving her the run around and no one else was willing to assist at the moment. She didn't have time to wait for another person to take pity on her, she really needed to get some rest. She adjusted her clothing as she drew near to the cottage, keenly aware that her clothing was out of date. The woman at the counter in Annabel's had told her that she looked to have shopped in a high falutin vintage store. She frowned. I like my lace and velvet, I don't understand why they have fallen so out of fashion in these times. Ah well, she would have to make the best of it.

She smoothed her blonde hair as she approached the porch. Her waist length braid was mostly still intact but a few wisps had broked free around her temple and she wanted to make a better first impression than she had back in town. She was fairly sure the older couple were the owners, was the young man related to them perhaps? Or was he the reason she had just missed a ride? She smiled softly at all three, not knowing specifically who to address.

"Good day everyone" she said with a curtsey. "I was told back in town that I might find a room here" She looked each in the eyes in turn as she spoke. "Unfortunately, I do not have the right amount of currency to purchase goods here. I have very little of your good ole american u s dollars but I have have old and foreign currency being kept at the bank in town if you know of someone who could give a fair exchange?" She shook her head. "The bank said they would keep my things safe but that they did not have the ability to exchange the coins."

Darien peered at the young woman from under the bill of his cap.  She spoke with some sort of accent, but he wasn't sure what it was.  Where ever she was from, she was another walking mouth, showing up on opening day, without a reservation and without the immediate means to support herself.  Besides that, she dressed peculiarly, like she was in an old time photo.

There were a lot of peculiar things about this town, from ghost sightings, to UFO photography, to mysterious disappearances.  This one looked the part on of the town ghosts, except she had to much color.  His gut told him to send her away before his sister spotted her.  Lord only knew that he hadn't retired from fishing to give out free rooms.  Still, she might be an angel unawares.  It was mighty hard to tell in these parts.

"Come on up and sit a spell.  I expect me sister will be back before long.  You can ask her."  He pointed at the empty chair, under which the spurned cat crouched.

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

MrDiamondBackJack

#8
Quote from: dragonsen on September 15, 2010, 09:26:06 AM
Arthur followed the old woman up the stairs. He chuckled as he thought of all the bad horror shows that started like this. City folk come to a rural town, find a place to stay in an out of the way building and during the night someone begins killing them, one by one, in the most horrifying ways. That thought ran out as he got to the top landing. Smiling at his host, he went into the room she indicated and set his bag down.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said softly. "If you don't mind, I need to lay down for a bit. Being broke is tiring work. I'll be happy to get to those chores in an hour, if that is alright with you."

She lead the young man through a tidy oak paneled entry hall, into the front hall of the house.  A rounded stairway snaked along one wall, ending in a landing that covered the length of the room.  The walls of the hall were covered with a white and tan patterned wallpaper depicting hunting scenes.  Three framed entry ways led off into the rest of the house.  A gold framed painting hung on one wall.  It was a portrait of a properly turn out woman of advancing years, dressed in the height of late Victorian fashion.  Her face was lined and pinched, with stern brown eyes.

"Well come through young man.  What did you say your name was?"  The hostess paused in the hallway to let him admire it.  She and her brother had spent a year lovingly restoring it.
[/color]
OOC:  Things are picking up.  Please excuse any errors in this and my last post.  I wrote them on my mobile phone.  I will edit any mistakes at a later time.

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

LadyMarisa

She smiled softly at the dubious look he was giving her but at least he had not been curt with her from the start. That itself was promising. "Thank you, kind sir"  She folded her skirt about her legs and perched herself on the edge of the chair. "I certainly don't mean to impose on you and your sister. I can pay for my keep, if only I can find someone with the means and the proper character to exchange my old currency for what is used around here." She thought perhaps if she engaged the man in conversation she might win him over. "Your establishment is verily the picture of loveliness, you and your sister must take pride in what you have built here, am I correct?."



OOC - Sorry about missing her having invited the other character inside. Don't know where my mind was this morning. :P
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, champagne in one hand - strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming: WOO HOO, WHAT A RIDE!

dragonsen

"Arthur Westmore, ma'am," he said softly. However, his gaze was not on her but the beautiful painting in the hall. He couldn't stop staring at it. Unconsciously, he stepped forward until his hand was almost touching the canvas. His hand stopped just before he did damage to the painting. Finally his wandering had brought him someplace that would inspire his muse.  With a gulp he stepped back and tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Beautiful, simply beautiful," Arthur breathed out. "What is the story behind this painting, if I may ask? I hope you will forgive me if you find me just standing here at odd hours and for long lengths of time. I'm a painter and I've been looking for a place to stay while I paint."
Knowledge is the gathering of useless information - Arthvr Dragonsen
Discord: arthvrdragonsen
My Ons & Offs - My Plot Requests - My E AppKnown Absences - Story Lottery Profile - Stories

MrDiamondBackJack

#11
Quote from: LadyMarisa on September 15, 2010, 04:10:20 PM
She smiled softly at the dubious look he was giving her but at least he had not been curt with her from the start. That itself was promising. "Thank you, kind sir"  She folded her skirt about her legs and perched herself on the edge of the chair. "I certainly don't mean to impose on you and your sister. I can pay for my keep, if only I can find someone with the means and the proper character to exchange my old currency for what is used around here." She thought perhaps if she engaged the man in conversation she might win him over. "Your establishment is verily the picture of loveliness, you and your sister must take pride in what you have built here, am I correct?."

OOC - Sorry about missing her having invited the other character inside. Don't know where my mind was this morning. :P

Darien smirked for a second.  The girl sure talked pretty.  "I'm just the muscle hon.  If you want to discuss vision and such, talk with my sis.  She told me we was openin' this place and that I was to old for fishin'.  Can't say as she was wrong, but I miss bein' out there.  Sittin' on land, starin' at it ain't nearly the same."  He leaned back in his chair, so he could see her from under the bill of his hat.  Sure, he could have moved it back a bit, but he had his principles.

"So where you from anyway?  Not here I guessin'."


OOC:  No worries, though I was not trying to keep characters apart.  I am still working out what his "accent" would be, so bare with me if it shifts a bit over time.

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

MrDiamondBackJack

Quote from: dragonsen on September 15, 2010, 09:21:11 PM
"Arthur Westmore, ma'am," he said softly. However, his gaze was not on her but the beautiful painting in the hall. He couldn't stop staring at it. Unconsciously, he stepped forward until his hand was almost touching the canvas. His hand stopped just before he did damage to the painting. Finally his wandering had brought him someplace that would inspire his muse.  With a gulp he stepped back and tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Beautiful, simply beautiful," Arthur breathed out. "What is the story behind this painting, if I may ask? I hope you will forgive me if you find me just standing here at odd hours and for long lengths of time. I'm a painter and I've been looking for a place to stay while I paint."

"Well if your a painter, I do have some work you can do.  We are still refurbishing the kitchen and the utility room and they will need a new coat of paint."  She patted his arm.  "Now as to this painting, I'm not sure I really know all that much. It was hanging in the front parlor when we bought the place twenty years ago.  There's some writing on the back says as its of Katherine Sallade.  She was old Henry Sallade's younger sister.  They was the family that founded Henry's Point you know.  Everyone knows that she wasn't right in the head, always visiting the lake shore in the middle of the night and meeting some mysterious man, who wasn't even her husband!  With behavior like that, its know wonder that she was drowned.

They told us that the house sat empty for twenty five years before we bought it too!  Every few years, they would air out the place and try to put it on the market, but no one wanted it on account of her ghost!  It's haunted you know.  That's what made me think of using it for a bed and breakfast!  Six month ago there was a program on popular haunted inns, and here we were sitting on a haunted gold mine!

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

dragonsen

Arthur continued to stare at the painting as he listened to the old woman's tale. He wasn't paying a lot of attention but just enough so he wouldn't appear rude. At the mention of ghosts though, he smiled a half smile. There was always an explanation, he thought to himself. Personally, he didn't believe in ghosts and he highly doubted that his stay here was going to change that. As his hostess finish her story, he realized that he didn't know her name yet.

"An intriguing tale, to say the least," he said courteously. "I must confess that I do not your name, ma'am. Have you seen her ghost since you bought this house? Any ideas on the man she was meeting? Mysteries want to be solved and solving them helps me pass the time while my muse is absent."
Knowledge is the gathering of useless information - Arthvr Dragonsen
Discord: arthvrdragonsen
My Ons & Offs - My Plot Requests - My E AppKnown Absences - Story Lottery Profile - Stories

LadyMarisa

Quote from: MrDiamondBackJack on September 15, 2010, 10:48:01 PM
Darien smirked for a second.  The girl sure talked pretty.  "I'm just the muscle hon.  If you want to discuss vision and such, talk with my sis.  She told me we was openin' this place and that I was to old for fishin'.  Can't say as she was wrong, but I miss bein' out there.  Sittin' on land, starin' at it ain't nearly the same."  He leaned back in his chair, so he could see her from under the bill of his hat.  Sure, he could have moved it back a bit, but he had his principles.

"So where you from anyway?  Not here I guessin'."


OOC:  No worries, though I was not trying to keep characters apart.  I am still working out what his "accent" would be, so bare with me if it shifts a bit over time.

She nodded. "Please forgive my discourtesy. I am tired from my travels but that does not excuse my manners. "Morgayne O'Shannon and I hail from Ireland, Kilkenny to be precise." She moved slightly like she was about to offer he hand but as he was leaning back, she folded her hands in her lap. "Being the muscle behind something is nothing to sneeze at. Vision is important but it is naught but a dream without the skills to bring it forth." She grinned. "The great castles did not build themselves."
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, champagne in one hand - strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming: WOO HOO, WHAT A RIDE!

MrDiamondBackJack

#15
Quote from: dragonsen on September 15, 2010, 11:29:16 PM

"An intriguing tale, to say the least," he said courteously. "I must confess that I do not your name, ma'am. Have you seen her ghost since you bought this house? Any ideas on the man she was meeting? Mysteries want to be solved and solving them helps me pass the time while my muse is absent."

The woman put a hand to her mouth.  "Oh were are my manners!  I'm Miss Edna Marsh, but please call me Edna."  Despite being in her fifties, and probably thirty years the boy senior, she found herself blushing.  You old fool, she thought.

"There will be time for the telling over tea, young man, but I need to get back to my brother.  I am afraid that he is not up to receiving our guests on his own!"  She gesture toward the entryway at the back of the hall.  "Just go through there and turn right.  There is a little room there which we are still working on a bit.  I will knock when tea is served."



"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

MrDiamondBackJack

#16
Quote from: LadyMarisa on September 15, 2010, 11:29:59 PM
She grinned. "The great castles did not build themselves."

He pulled his cap off, by the bill and started to scratch at his thick gray scalp. She sure talked pretty enough, like a school teacher or a librarian.  "Ah,  well I don't know nothin' 'bout that.  I just do as I'm told, sos she leave me be."  He was feeling out of his depth.  He had almost said that there was nothing wrong with his vision, but it wouldn't have been the gospel truth.  He had his drug store reading glasses, for when he read the morning paper.

"Well. There good fishin' in that town you said your from, Kil....  The town."  Darien silently cursed his sister.  She had told him all that he had to do was to greet the guests and then he could go back to his workshop.  Here he was though, trying to talk with some pretty young gal from Kiltree.

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

dragonsen

Arthur nodded at his host and reluctantly left the painting. He followed her directions and soon found the small room. It only took him moments to unpack. There was a small window so he spent some time just staring outside, not seeing anything but what his imagination inscribed in his thoughts. Shaking his head, he realized he needed some sleep. The bed wasn't all that great but it sure beat the cold ground. The young man stretched out on the mattress and soon was asleep.
Knowledge is the gathering of useless information - Arthvr Dragonsen
Discord: arthvrdragonsen
My Ons & Offs - My Plot Requests - My E AppKnown Absences - Story Lottery Profile - Stories

LadyMarisa

Quote from: MrDiamondBackJack on September 17, 2010, 06:26:20 PM
He pulled his cap off, by the bill and started to scratch at his thick gray scalp. She sure talked pretty enough, like a school teacher or a librarian.  "Ah,  well I don't know nothin' 'bout that.  I just do as I'm told, sos she leave me be."  He was feeling out of his depth.  He had almost said that there was nothing wrong with his vision, but it wouldn't have been the gospel truth.  He had his drug store reading glasses, for when he read the morning paper.

"Well. There good fishin' in that town you said your from, Kil....  The town."  Darien silently cursed his sister.  She had told him all that he had to do was to greet the guests and then he could go back to his workshop.  Here he was though, trying to talk with some pretty young gal from Kiltree.

"Kilkenny. Yes, I'd imagine so though I couldn't say from personal experience. It's not really considered a womanly calling so I never learned how." She glanced away briefly. "If it's not too forward of me, may I ask why you must cut back on your fishing? It occurs to me that if your sister would prefer that you not do so alone, perhaps I could apprentice with you and help pay for my keep." "Until such time as we find someone reputable to exchange my money of course." She smiled at the seemingly bewildered man. "I do know how to clean a fish at the very least."
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, champagne in one hand - strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming: WOO HOO, WHAT A RIDE!

MrDiamondBackJack

#19
Quote from: LadyMarisa on September 18, 2010, 12:59:08 PM
"I do know how to clean a fish at the very least."

"Well, I..."  He was surprised that she knew how to clean a fish and wanted to go out fishing.  It was an odd notion.  There were a few women fishing these waters, but it was mostly a man's work.  Hell, most of it was done by big operations now, not little dinky boats like his.  Still, the thought of sailing across the lake with a pretty little thing like her help some appeal.  He already knew what his dear sister would say thought, as she often did.  Sometimes he thought is name was Old Fool.

"Well, I don't rightly know.  Let me think on it for awhile."  Soon his sister rescued him.

--------

Two hours later, Edna knocked loudly on their young handyman's door.  "Wake up!  Tea is being served in five minutes!  I made sloppy joes, because I know how you boys love to eat."  She had tea by herself, since her brother thought it was a silly affectation.  She did fine with a tin of butter cookies.  Still, her mother had been from London, and raised her to run a proper household.  It didn't matter where one was.  One served tea at tea time.

The Irish girl had been settled in a room as well and she had promised to take her to town in the morning, to visit her friend Luke Bauman.  He collected all sorts of antiques and odds and ends.  He would treat the girl well, especially if he knew that she was watching him.  Luke had been sweet on her for years.  He was a handsome enough man with his high cheek bones, cleft chin and twinkling blue eyes, but he was ten years older than her.  For most of their lives she had been like a younger sister to the daft idiot, but a few years ago he had decided to get frisky on her.  Men were so fickle and changing.

In the parlor, Darien sitting uncomfortably an antique chair, with his cap removed.  He had on his favorite gray sweater and a little black bow tie.  His sister had insisted that he stick around for tea, for once, since he needed to get to know the lad if he was going to work for them.  He had tried to tell her that men did not need to talk or mingle to get some work done.  Hell, he had spent nearly thirty five years in blessed silence, fishing on the lake
.

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

LadyMarisa

Morgayne checked herself in the mirror one last time. A string of wooden beads spaced by dried flowers hunger over the top of the mirror. She had seen a girl wearing an outfit like this in town yesterday but she had long since lost her ability to accurately guess another persons age so she couldn't be sure this was entirely appropriate. Ah well, she would be judged by their reactions. Thin leather sandals, a pair of "designer" blue jeans and a t-shirt relflecting some popular musical band whos name she couldn't pronounce. She thought about leaving her hair unbound but it was too thick and long, it would not stay controlled. Pulled it back behind her head and clipped it with an ornamental piece, a fairy dragon clamping around the base of the ponytail.

Morgayne thought she heard tea being called out down the hall but she wasn't sure what these sloppy joes were. A new style of food she expected but she hoped it wouldn't be difficult to figure out how to properly eat. Cautiously, she poked her head out into the hallway to see who was calling and to be sure she heard correctly.
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, champagne in one hand - strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming: WOO HOO, WHAT A RIDE!

MrDiamondBackJack

#21
Edna's knocking on the door still hadn't roused the young man, but the young lady was up and around.  "Hello dear! Do come to the parlor for tea.  A few more guests have arrived and I am sure they would welcome your company."

She gave the girl an a speculative look, from head to toe.  "I did so like you other outfit dear, since it worked in with the time period we decorated in.  You look young and healthy, but maybe tomorrow I could persuade you to change back.  I was thinking about asking you to pose for a few pictures for our website!"

The Rose Cottage had been advertised on a few websites before, but her nephew Nathan had created a real website for them and was working on creating a virtual walk through.

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

dragonsen

Arthur struggled out of his nap. He was more exhausted than usual so his sleep was deeper. The knocking woke him up but it took several minutes to be able to process the words that his hostess had said. Finally, he managed to get up and stumble to the door. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he made his way down to the parlor.

"I'm sorry about being late, ma'am," he said as he took a seat. "I guess I was more tired than I thought. Mmmm, sloppy joes. I haven't had any of those in a long time."

Belatedly, he looked around as he put three sloppy joes on his plate. There were some new faces so he figured he should introduce himself.

"Good afternoon," he told the others. "My name is Arthur Westmore."
Knowledge is the gathering of useless information - Arthvr Dragonsen
Discord: arthvrdragonsen
My Ons & Offs - My Plot Requests - My E AppKnown Absences - Story Lottery Profile - Stories

MrDiamondBackJack

#23
Edna moved around the room like a butterfly, flitting from guest to guest, introducing them, and serving tea.  Her introductions included lots of statements like "near and dear to my heart" and "would you like another lump with that deary".

Besides Arthur and Morgayne, there were three others.  Sitting nearest Arthur was a massive man with mutton chop sideburns and a tattoo of a wolf, running across the side of his thick neck.  His head was bald, except for his side burns and a soul patch.  He wore an ill-fitting gray suit which was threatening to rip apart at the shoulder.  He was named Mr. Thomas Bradock and was visiting for the weekend, while he took some photos of the light house for a new calendar he was working on.

Beside him sat Mrs. Katherine Wright, who was also staying for the weekend.  She was a rather short, somewhat rounded woman with pleasant dimples and librarian glasses.  Her brown locks were pulled back into a simple pony tail.  Her attire was a white summer dress with little pink flowers.  It showed off her curves well, while hiding her faults.  She looked like someone who usually smiled a lot, but she was not smiling now, and especially so at the last man, who was sitting next to Morgayne.

This man was Roberto Garcia, her boyfriend of some two months.  They had finally decided it was time to go away together, for a weekend, but things were not going well apparently.  He was a rather thin, bookish man with a mop of curly black hair and skin the color of heavily creamed coffee.  With his hair and rounded glasses, he rather looked like a famous wizard of literature, if he had been Latino.  He was wearing a pair of cut of jeans, ratty high top sneakers and a brown t-shirt with a storm trooper helmet on it, with crossed bones beneath it.


OOC:  It is late, or I would write more.  Sorry if they are not actually speaking yet.  I am off on Saturday.  On Friday night, I will write out the legend of the picture, which Arthur asked about, since I will have the time to work on it.  Take care folks.

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer.  That was retorical."- Glinda (Wicked)

Moony

Ringing the bell to her bicycle, the short young woman was racing her way up towards the Rose Cottage. The quaint Bed & Breakfast on the cliff was just opening today, here she was one of their few only employees... late. Though, she had good reason. Charlie was a strange girl, the town's folk described her as unnaturally kind, sweet, and a little bit spacey. Yes, she had her quirks and luckily wasn't completely ostracized for it. She was just always different, strange, weird, kooky... Any time anyone would talk about Charlie Banes a person could be astounded with the many different ways to say odd. Sometimes, the rumor mill started to speak ill of her. Talk of her speaking to no one or rooms becoming cold suddenly when she was near, but it was all just talk right?

What was the truth? Ever since Charlie was small, she had always been different. She and her mother could do and see things others couldn't, and it was prudent that they kept this to themselves. Ghosts always fascinated Charlie, some of her better childhood friends were among the dead. Her talents were seeing memories, ghosts, the future, and even the past. Ghosts were more her forte and took the least amount of effort, being able to hear and see, and be touched by the dead was not hard... What was hard was trying to ignore them. Seeing into the unseen like the future and past sometimes required a trigger, like an item that would be used or a person that was involved. She would never learn to control this and has long accepted it.

Charlie stood at an out standing 5 foot flat, she was short with a bottom heavy hourglass figure. Long dark blonde hair hung past her back was usually tied away in a singular or two braids. Today was singular braid, made it easier to ride on her bike without it swooping every where. Her eyes were round and doey, beautiful and gentle in a soft gray color. The strange young woman had a heart shape face, nicely manicured eye brows, long thick lashes, and full lips.

Bicycle helmet strapped securely around her head as she picked up her pace, on her back was a khaki colored book bag with a change of clothing and things she could use to freshen up. Charlie looked as though she had just finished working in the garden, her jeans were torn and stained with age and mud. The green colored sneakers on her feet looked as though it had seen better days and her shirt was a simple tee that was worn and faded with age. Before departing her home, she had made sure what stains she could clean off, where wiped away. So, though old, her clothes were slightly acceptable.

In the basket on the front of the bike were a load dried herbs and preserves she was supposed have brought two hours ago. Being the help around the Rose Cottage, Charlie's talents included cooking, helping out around the B&B, cleaning, and gardening.

Just in time, she cleared the distance between herself and her place of work. Hopping off the red bicycle, she pushed it along the side and quickly locked it away in the shed where she told she would need to put it during her work hours. Book bag still on her back and the basket from her bike in hand, she circled around the house and found the spare key beneath a false potted plant.

So, there she was quietly making her way into the kitchen. Though in the middle of being refurbished, it was still functional. Settling the basket on the counter, Charlie let out a loud hiss. Which was where we now bring our attention to why Miss Bane was late, all along her right arm from the palm of her hand up to her elbow was a fresh and slightly bloodied gauze bandage. Throughout the ride up, Charlie was in a considerable amount of pain. Despite this, she trudged her way to work and refused to allow herself to have to take the day off. How she got hurt? Well, you'd have to ask her yourself.

OOC: Hullo, I hope you don't mind me jumping in. <3 If you do, I'll just disappear... >>; I'm not approved yet so I can't edit my posts, also if you like Charlie you can use her 'abilities' how you please, it's fine if you need a plot device. She's a witch, just doesn't really know how to do much of anything except garden and have a few natural talents. ( Seeing ghosts, seeing the future, and seeing the past.. etc )
Technically, you never stop touching yourself.