The Haunted House

Carolanne’s wide, round eyes looked alarmed at the mention of Vivienne having concerns, but she played it off with ease and grace. While her thoughts ran rampant with skeletons in the walls and murder confessions hidden among pages of novels, she speared her fork into a careful lettuce, spinach, cucumber, feta and raisin layering.

“Absolutely, I’m totally free after dinner, if you’d like to retire to some sitting room? We can decompress- drinks, desserts and I’ll take some notes. We’ll get things taken care of,” Carrie suggested with a pleasant positivity. She couldn’t help but notice the feeling of eyes bearing into her. She glanced around casually.

“Was your room an alright fit? Have you noticed that you might need something for your first night here?” Carrie asked Victi. “Also, I’m so sorry, I have to ask… what brand of toner do you use for your hair? It is such a bright and crisp color, it’s beautiful!”

She had spotted the culprit, one of the two staff members serving the dinner. A woman, dressed in black. Mousy brown hair, tied tightly back in a bun. She held her hands behind her back, standing in wait at the side of the room for anyone to request a refill, clearing of a finished plate, or a special item.

She was staring at Carrie from the corner of her eyes. Her face was forward, largely prominent nose directed at the opposite wall she stood, but her eyes twisted in their sockets at Carrie.

Daniel smiled.

“I really appreciate it,” he reiterated to Ciel. “I will be in and out, but I certainly’ll try to be here for dinners at the very least a few times a week. I’d like to keep in close touch with progress as we go, if you don’t mind.”

He had moved to the green beans on his plate, before pouring another glass of wine into his cup and standing from his seat. He used his fork to click against the glass, drawing the attention of the group. He looked out over the faces, and lifted his glass.

“I’d like to make a toast!” Daniel announced with a beaming expression. “To Montgomery Manor,” the words bled into the air, soaked into the walls. “And to us!” He moved his glass is another gesture of honor to the room and to the individuals around the table. “To our fame and our fortune.” A few cheers met his toast, some clapping and an agreeable amount of glassware clinking lightly.

"I don't mind at all." Ciel nodded at Daniel.

Ciel hadn't drank all of his wine, so there was enough for him to still cheer Daniel's toast.
So, he silently raised the glass with a soft smirk and the glass clinked together.

Unrelated to the current events, Ciel was feeling a bit out-of-place. Not because he seemed to be the youngest person here, but more so that he had arrived alone, with no accompany from his butler, Sebastian. He usually went everywhere with him, but this time, Ciel insisted he go alone. The butler was a bit shocked, but did not argue with him. But Ciel did feel a bit of anxiety not having him here. Almost as if that butler had became a security blanket of sorts.

Ciel shook the feeling away, and took a sip from his wine glass.
He'd get used to it, wouldn't he?

"Does the library work for you?" Vivienne asks, "There are a few things I wanted to check in there still, and hopefully that should be doable while we chat and snack. I, uh, I don't drink though. Booze hits me like a train, and I like my inhibitions the way they are. And yeah, it shouldn't be anything actually difficult to resolve, just some stuff to bring to your attention to make sure it gets resolved. Usual biz."

The first parts are easy enough for her to answer, the usual kind of general status questions that can be answered factually or with simple, normal opinions. "The room is good, perfect even. There's enough space for me to work, but not so much space that I don't know what to do with it, furnishings have enough going on to be interesting but aren't so busy that it's distracting," she answers, genuinely content with the place thus far, "I don't think I'm missing anything, most places I look at don't have as many amenities as here so I have the essentials..."

And... now she had to either answer the question about hair products or stall hard. With a surge of stress, she boldly opts for the latter. "Oh, actually, I mentioned a cat had gotten in, I think. His people think he may have slipped through ventilation? That might mean that there are some grates missing or never put in place. That might be worth looking at tomorrow for procurement or any HVAC people who will be coming in. That may be--"

She's cut off as Mr. Fischer calls for a toast. Saved by the bell, or at least by the chiming and clinking. Not being a drinker she doesn't partake, but does take the opportunity to breathe a sigh of relief and get back to food for a bit. Something about the declarations of the toast does send a shiver down her spine, though. He probably means well, normal hopes for prosperity and success, but it's hard not to have concerns in the context of the place.

The table of people ate happily post toast, savored the sweet and salty morsels, filled themselves with good drink and good company. A few folks were getting fairly rosy in the cheeks with wine or whiskey. Laughter was more loose. The feast was formidable, but beginning to look picked at. Men were leaning back in their chairs, making room for their bloating guts.

A clatter of dishes interrupted, sudden and stark compared to the mild tapping or scraping.

“Oh, Jesus!” A man cried, followed by a string of curse words.

A man, near mid table, clutched his hands to his chest. He was bearded and softly shaped, with no defined lines or forms, and a pair of thin frame spectacles on his nose. A red stain was growing across his white cotton shirt. Five district droplets stood dramatically on his dinner plate, a sixth splash staining some remains of white fluff potatoes a deep shade of pink. He was looking around the table, startled and shocked.

“T-the knife’s’damn sharp,” he stammered. On his plate with his pinkened potatoes and single slice of ham left, was a displaced fork and steak knife. Blood was trickling in disturbed rivulets down the man’s hairy forearms. He must’ve been pressing too hard, because of the whiskey. Must’ve slipped, and the pressure was free to gravity. He hadn’t even realized quite as it happened, it wasn’t until he’d seen the spurt of blood well from beneath the severed lips of flesh on his hand, and the strange tingling sensation, that he understood there’d been a mistake.

Ciel had been startled by the sudden clatter of dishes and the painful shout of the man. He stared for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on, when the man announced the comment about the knife. His uncovered eye narrowed softly, realizing it was just some drunkard being clumsy. But a secondary thought popped in his head, thinking about the horrible things that happened in this house.

Ciel shook his head and looked away, tapping his fingers gently on the table. Surely not.

Surely it wasn't anything superstitious.

The man held his hand out to inspect the damage, more droplets of blood splattered the table. The portion of skin above his thumb on the top of his hand was flayed in a J shape, leaving a flap peeled limply back and exposing the array of vivid colors beneath. There was a sickening white of bone and tendon nestled amongst the crimsons. It was not life threatening of course, but it would do well with medical stitching.

His face was ghostly and waxy in complexion. Promptly, he clamped his good hand over the wound and held the injury to his chest once again. A shorter man beside him helped him up to his feet, while Sebastian also left his chair and came to the wounded man’s side. He wrapped a cloth napkin tightly around the bleeding hand.

“S’damn sharp…” the bearded man gasped again.

“The local docs gonna love this,” Sebastian muttered, physically guiding the stumbling man away from the table and out of the room with the help of the man’s shorter friend. “I’ll call you from the emergency room,” Bastian promised to Daniel before they disappeared from the dining hall.

Daniel had stood to assist, but it had been quickly taken care of. He dabbed his mouth with his napkin and kept his gaze turned pointedly away from the blood spatter. The staff dressed in black had pounced forward as if spring loaded, taking away dishes and clearing the table of its dressings, and taking care to contain the biohazard. Other guests were scooting their chairs out and uneasily excusing themselves.

“Damn it!” He cursed under his breath, then said a little louder, “what an unfortunate accident. I better go get our insurance agent on the phone to prepare for that emergency room call.”

He straightened out his jacket and moved around the edge of the table, placing a gentle hand on Ciel’s shoulder as he passed by. “I will be in my office, if you need me! Don’t hesitate to stop by, I will talk to you soon,” Daniel promised the younger man.

Carrie’s big blue eyes were as wide and round as their dinner plates. She looked a little queasy, but steadied herself by fanning air at her face with a dainty hand. She politely pushed in her chair after standing, meandering over to the side of the table Vivienne was on as everyone else began dispersing. The scent of the sweet ham tinting the air was being stained by the metallic stench of blood.

“Uh,” Carrie squeaked, then cleared her throat. “Why don’t ya give me five to go change and get my laptop, then I’ll come find you in the library? Maybe, make it ten just for travel time in these halls.” She proposed to Vivienne, attempting to brush off her disturbance with weak humor.

As the injury happens, Vivienne shifts back in apparent shock, eyes wide and flitting over the scene. Her thoughts are a bit more focused, though, scanning for signs of what could have gone wrong beyond a simple accident, if anything. After all, her job is to look into this place's reputation for bloody accidents...

The inner half of each of her irises turns to gem-like violet, making a dark, thin ring around her pupils as she watches. It lasts five, maybe ten seconds before they return to normal.

As soon as Sebastian gets to the man and gets to work, she relaxes. Nothing more to see at this point, most likely. Still, definitely a weird little event. The rich scent of fresh blood mixed with well prepared meat was practically intoxicating, a rare mix which worked all too well, but it seemed like the dinner would be cut short. Sensible from a sanitation standpoint, if unfortunate for her newly refreshed hunger. Carrie Mae's approach gets her to lift her eyes from the liquid garnets adorning the plate and tablecloth.

"Hm? Oh, sure, I'll head up and get some stuff ready once I'm up there," she answers with an unbothered wave of a hand, "See you soon."

She gets up more slowly, relaxed, and lets people filter out some before she gets moving toward the door herself.

(giving a chance for things to happen or people to interact before she gets out the door. She'll be zooming off to her destination soon)

Ciel shook his head, watching Quint help the stumbling man off to tend to the wound caused by the knife.

He watched as the staff collected the dishes and clearing the table, before he felt the gentle touch of Daniel's hand on his shoulder.
Ciel nodded, "Thank you for letting me know, I'll keep that in mind."

Ciel then slid his seating out from the table and got out of the chair, "If I don't end up dropping by, I'll probably be in my room." He added, speaking to Daniel. "So, if you need me, I'll be there." Ciel said, before walking off, heading to the door, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the clattering of the staff moving dishes, the flapping of the tablecloth, the shuffles of footsteps from both the staff and those previously dining, and mostly, the sickening scent of the blood that went through the air.


(( Ciel most likely will drop by Daniel's office, and then he'll make his way to his bedroom after talking with Daniel. ))

Accidents happen, don’t they?

Whiskey warms the core, numbs the limbs. Reality blurs, seen through squinted eyes. When cheeks get rosy and senses are diluted, accidents can happen. So quickly, it seems.

A slip of the hand, easy enough. Isn’t it?

One of the last men to leave the table had a head of lush, dark hair slicked back away from his face, and some shadows of facial scruff on his angular jaw. Like Daniel and unlike most of the working men at the table, he was adorn in a black, double breasted two-piece suit that was clearly tailored to him. When the table had been festive and full, he had been buried in the layers, but now as the surrounding life dwindled, he was left defined.

He’d taken his time eating, savorying and enjoying each single morsel of a bite from his plate with fervent desire. He was not disturbed by the disruption to his dinner, insisting silently on finishing each forkful of ham, fish and salad. Then, he finished his glass of rich, red wine as the staff cleared plates from around him.

He stood slowly, smoothing out his suit jacket with a ring-encrusted hand. He lifted his brilliantly green eyes, and placed them on Vivienne. After a lingering moment, he turned and he exited with the others.

Dissatisfied, disappointed, and in no particular rush, she continues to let people pass her as she heads toward the door, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of the unsettled crowd. This big, old room was worth actually looking at for work-related reasons, anyway. It would be difficult to do much in with regular traffic, but she could think of a few ways to monitor it.

Among the last to leave, though, a man who unnerves her with how unnoticeable she had been in spite of his look. Not toward the head of the table or the other few well dressed types, but in a properly tailored suit. The type of person who she had been led to understand would tend to wear more understated jewelry, cufflinks and... tie... clips, or things like that, but with enough rings that he may as well just get fancy knuckle dusters. Something about that feels weird, but she also doesn't have enough knowledge to feel confident in that feeling. The way he looked at her, too... judging? leering? sizing up? She couldn't tell. Odd.

She gives the room one last glance once he's gone, though, and follows the last of the people leaving and heads up toward her room first to just take a peek inside, and then onward to the library.