Boarders with Borders (Phobius, Aislyn)

[Kuvarakh]

Architectrix

Kuvarakh felt a degree of satisfaction seeing his two companions relax a bit. He knew it was a fairly dicey proposal "hiding out" here, so any bit of initial ease would help. His visits here alone were mostly routine. But the time he'd brought Phobius before, the mansion had seemed to take an inordinate amount of interest in him. And Maya had only been in as far as the foyer, while he and Aceren had discussed the sketches she'd crafted.

As they approached the door, Kuvarakh heard Phobius and Maya talking about her possibly sketching the entire mansion. He said nothing, but hoped they only meant the outside of the grand estate. He was sure he'd made clear that there were areas inside that would not tolerate even his own presence, let alone theirs. But he could not see the wings objecting to an artistic rendition of their exteriors.

Even as the door opened, letting them inside, his two companions were still discussing what subjects she would choose to sketch, what were her favorite subjects, how they related to Ionu, illusion, or Alvadas in general. it got him wondering suddenly if Ionu cast his tricks in any other towns besides Alvadas. Did the being bring extraordinary sensory manipulations to Riverfall as well? Lhavit? Sultros? Avanthal? Others?

He knew many towns were the inherent centers of influence for other deities, but he had no idea if they welcomed their own, or were jealous of their strongholds to the point of exclusion. He could not recall a time where there had been any indication of an Akaija visitation in Alvadas. Nor Zintila, Izurdin, Morwen or any others. He supposed they kept to themselves where their separate domains were concerned.

x

[Phobius]

Miss Maya's answer was puzzling, and the sentiment showed on Phobius' face as he blinked at her and tried to make sense of it in his mind. He couldn't remember having ever seen a portrait or painting of Ionu, before, and had no clue what he looked like. There were no doubts in his mind that the god did exist—the rampant illusions that swam throughout Alvadas' streets were enough evidence—but the boy hadn't really ever thought about what color his eyes might be, or what kind of clothes he might wear...or if he was even a he, to begin with. Deities were complicated concepts, and Phobius made comprehending them easier on himself by thinking of them not as people, but as big, formless beings who had magical powers.

Ionu was a massive one of these. He was also purple, because...well, purple seemed to be a color that suited him.

But Miss Maya had said that she liked to draw him and his illusions, so maybe she'd seen him, before. It sounded like it'd be really hard to draw an illusion, since they changed around so much, and how could you tell an illusion apart from something that was real, anyway...? Unless the woman had some sort of special talent that enabled her to do that...and maybe Ionu was a person, after all, or at least had the appearance of one. Thinking on it, now, Phobius wondered if the god liked changing his looks around every once in a while. It'd make sense for the god of illusions to put illusions on himself, wouldn't it?

The front doors suddenly opened, and the boy roused himself from his train of thought to follow his two friends inside. Bits and pieces of his earlier fears about them not being wanted began to melt away, and he found himself looking around the foyer, the more fonder memories of his first visit flooding back to him. He'd been amazed, that day, when he'd looked down to see his reflection in the shiny, marble flooring. And the ceiling still seemed to stand miles above his head.

Hmm...I don't see Grandma around, the boy inwardly remarked as his gaze continued to drift. I wonder if she knows that we're here, yet...?

For a fleeting moment, Phobius considered going and looking for her, but was quick to tell himself that it'd be stupid to even try. The mansion was simply too big, and he couldn't even begin to guess where the kind woman would be, if not in the large dining hall that was near them. That's where he'd first met her, but that didn't mean that she'd be there, again.

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Fable]

As the three entered through the open doors, they were met with a softly lit, massive foyer. The ceiling rose high, its details shadowed by the flickering glow of the candles mounted onto the walls. Two large staircases ran along side the wall opposite of the doors, wrapping from the side walls to the back and meeting in a shallow balcony. Intricate metalworks comprised the railings, designs reminiscent of plant life wrapping through the smooth, sleek iron that ran up the stairs and around the balcony that wrapped itself about the entire foyer. Directly beneath the balcony, there were a set of large, ornate wooden doors, carvings set in each of the six paneled sections. Each scene depicted prone figures, some slain, some sleeping, others simply a vacant look upon their faces. Above, three doors, more simple though just as luxurious in design as the main floor, were placed in the north, west and east walls.

There was an air of weariness that sat heavy in the rich, crimson drapes that hung dark over the windows to block out the daylight. The light of the candles was enough to illuminate the main floor, but the level above was darkened, soft impressions and flickering shadows caught from light below casting what could be mistaken as movement above. As they made their way into the house, the doors remained open, waiting for someone to shut them. The house was quiet, its stillness only broken by the muted dance of the candle light and the sound of its new visitor's feet tapping against the dark, rich marbled floor, who's reflected surface was now void of any form of dust. In fact, the whole interior seemed the sort that was well taken care of. There were two couches, upholstered in a dark green velvet, positioned about a foot table that had a tasteful vase and bouquet of roses that let a rich, floral scent drift through the room to mingle with the bite of the candle's smoke.

Aside from the three figures, there was no indication of a anyone else. If Aceren or the elderly woman were present, they were not there to greet their guests. As Aislyn closed the door behind her, there was a soft click as it was pulled into place. At that same moment, there was a rumbling shift as the house moved. The paneled doors shook for a few ticks before the house returned to its quiet stillness.

oocFeel free to write within the foyer. If you're going to go through any of the doors, I will post again detailing what is inside.

[Aislyn Leavold]

It had been a while since Aislyn had set foot in the infamous sentient mansion. She’d come in before, once, but no farther than the doorway. Now, however, she was in it all the way, for better or worse.

The first thing the woman noticed was how much bigger the place seemed to be once she was inside. She thought the place would have been, of course, mansion-sized, but then again, Aislyn had never seen a mansion before, so the hugeness of the place still amazed her. Not to mention she’d been expecting it to be in disrepair, not to mention covered in dust, yet the place just seemed… Empty. Kuvarakh must have done a heck of a job to keep it in the quality that it was. There were even lit candles, their light throwing dancing figures onto the walls. It was a mystery how they stayed lit.
Then again, when it came to the mansion, quite a lot of things were mysteries.

Aislyn took a moment to appreciate the architecture of the place. It was old, that much was obvious, but yet somehow still in almost perfect condition. The care that seemed to have been put into the mansion’s maintenance was incredible, despite the fact that it seemed as if no one had lived in the place for years. There was no sign of life anywhere- not a misplaced chair, a bookmarked story, not even a visible dent in the velvet of the chairs. And the darkness of the room was strange, considering how light it had been outside. The curtains appeared to be drawn tightly, leaving the room to be lit with nothing but candlelight. A strange touch, considering how nice the weather was outside.
Still, nothing particularly dangerous about it.

There was of course, still the aching worry in the back of Aislyn’s mind, nagging her about what she was going to do to hold her cover. Usually, the ever-present voice was just a reminder to keep her illusions solid, but now it was just repeating different scenarios in which she could be discovered. The mansion could reveal her. Her illusions could wear off in the night and be walked in on. She could simply make a mistake that ruined her hard-fought security.
But that was not something she needed to be worrying about. For now, she could simply enjoy the sight of the mansion, in the glory that it was. Even if she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

Having been the last one to enter the mansion, Aislyn thought it right to shut the doors through which the three had entered. It was remarkably easily, with the hinges moving surprisingly smoothly, considering how old the wood appeared to be. It was only once she had already pushed the door closed did she ponder the danger of shutting herself, along with Kuvarakh and Phobius, inside.
Unfortunately, said danger suddenly seemed very, very real.
As soon as the doors clicked into place, the house decided to prove it’s sentience in a way other than the friendly caricature that Kuvarakh had described: The house began to move.

Moving houses, though not the most absurd thing when it came to Alvadas, were not something Aislyn encountered every day. Startled, she opened her mouth to ask why the floor was moving, only to have the tremor end before she could form the words. The mansion once again dissolving back into the eerie silence that filled the air like fog.
”I’m going to assume that was Aceren’s work…” She paused, casting an uneasy glance over at Kuvarakh, ”...as normally, shutting a door doesn’t cause an earthquake.”

[Kuvarakh]

Architectrix

As they entered the foyer, Kuvarakh had mixed feelings. The almost sterile cleanliness of the immediate area was not normal. He hoped it was only that the Mansion was wanting to present an immaculate impression for Maya and Phobius. His own previous experiences always suggested that the structure wanted to make him aware of how much repair he still needed to do, if not make him feel downright guilty over it. And the seeming displeasure of the grounds' earlier display had not made him expect an excess of warmth.

But it would not do to let his companions perceive any uncertainty in his relationship. He clapped his hands as if all was well. "Have a seat, my friends." he bantered reassuringly as he gestured toward the two couches. "The furniture is quite comfortable."

He didn't actually know this to be true. In fact, he'd never seen these couches on any of his previous visits. But they certainly looked plush enough. And the combined aromas of rose and warmed wax was certainly pleasant. It served to offset the apprehension about the movement of the building to a degree. Not completely, but well enough to allow the Nuit to plaster a confident smile across his face.

It suddenly dawned on him that there was no food in evidence. He had not asked Maya if she had sipped any into her backpack as they left her home. Not needing to eat, it was not a concern that found much opportunity to come back to mind. He was equally unsure about water. He decided to use this subject as a means of acquiring a bit of privacy to see if he could gauge the Mansion's attitude, by offering an apology for any offense he may have inadvertently given.

"I'm going to see if there's a water pump in the kitchen." he told the others, hoping they were finding themselves comfortable enough to remain in the reception area. "When I get back, we can see if those are bedrooms on the upper level there. Maybe there will be some food in the kitchen as well."

He made his way to the ornately carved door below the balcony. As he approached, he reinforced his resolve to pass through without hesitation. He wished offhand that he could employ his hypnosis on himself, as he had done on Phobius earlier. These doors had always been open before. He wondered if they would be locked as well as closed. He knew he would find out soon enough as he reached for the handle.

x

[Phobius]

The foyer was quiet, but in such a way that Phobius couldn't help but feel the slightest bit uncomfortable as he distanced himself from the now-closing doors. And then, without warning, the floor beneath their feet trembled. It startled him at first, making him think that they'd walked right into the building's empty, grumbling belly, assuming that buildings could have bellies. But then he remembered something that Grandma had told him during his first visit...something about old buildings and what they sometimes did. What was it called, again? Settling?

Yeah...that sounded about right. She'd said that old buildings settled, because...well, they were old. And the mansion was really, really old, so it made sense that tremors like these would happen every so often. It was reassuring logic. Smiling a little to himself, Phobius looked over at both Miss Maya and Kuvarakh, the latter of whom had a puzzling expression on his face. The woman, on the other hand, looked anxious, glancing at the alchemist and saying that she felt that Aceren had done something.

Aceren...where was he, anyway? Phobius hadn't really ever gotten the chance to see the pseudo-homeowner, himself, but he'd thought that the man would be right by the doors to welcome them when they came in. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

Kuvarakh suddenly motioned for them to take a seat, and the boy turned his attention to the two green couches. Had they been here the last time he'd come...? In all honesty, he wasn't sure, but he went over and sat on one all the same. The material that covered it was surprisingly smooth, and Phobius got some enjoyment out of running a hand over one of the cushions, for a few ticks. Then he poked and prodded it, testing its innate comfort and deeming it worthy a short moment later. The final test was one that measured its bounciness, and Phobius decided that he wouldn't go as easy on the couch, this time. He pulled himself to his feet and, holding his arms out in front of his chest, fell back into it. The boy didn't boast much weight and wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but the furniture piece seemed to completely absorb the force of the shock, refusing to let out a single squeak. With a curious look on his face, Phobius shifted around and got onto his knees, consciously keeping his booted feet away from the cushions as he jumped some more. The couch was still silent. Decently bouncy, but silent.

"Huh..." Done with his little experiment, Phobius turned around and made himself sit properly. Then he gazed over at Miss Maya, a satisfied look on his face. "It's nice," he said, sounding as though he'd given the couch his "official" approval. When Kuvarakh announced that he was going off to look for water, the boy leaned forward and watched him leave for a moment, then inched over to the far end of his couch and patted the one next to it, urging the woman to take a seat.

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Fable]

Kuvarkh's hands pressed against the doors and they slid open at his touch, moving smoothly on well oiled hinges to reveal a space about half the size of the foyer, though with a much lower ceiling. There was a mural in the fresco above, a scene depicting a group of children looking bewildered in a field of sleeping sheep. The surrounding walls were paneled in a dark, rich looking wood, with windows that were draped in the same heavy fabric as before. Hanging chandeliers from the ceiling burned with a stead glow to bathe the room in a rich glow. To his left was an L of tables, pots and pans arranged neatly along the polished wood. Shelves lined the walls above the tables, though nowhere was there any indication of food. A single door directly across from where Kuvarakh stood sat in the middle of the opposite wall. To his right there were two stoves, a stony mass of bricks for baking and a cast iron setup that once filled with fire would provide a hot surface to cook on. There were several more shelves along the wall, also bare.

There was no indication of a spout within the kithchen, though there was a tub near the end of one of the tables that appeared to be a large basin for dirty dishes.[/color]

[Aislyn Leavold]

Besides the random, seemingly very pinpointed earthquakes, the house seemed relatively normal. Strangely clean, of course, considering how old Kuvarakh had mentioned it being, but otherwise… Abnormally normal.
Aislyn had been informed that this was a house of moving rooms and talking consciousness, not a place of suave chairs and closed curtains. She’d expected cobwebs and dust, maybe some personified houses, not the smell of rose candles.

Meeting expectations or not, Aislyn found that she had other problems at that moment. First of all, if Aceren didn’t show up, she couldn’t bargain with him. Second of all, if she didn’t bargain with the talking house man, she probably wouldn’t last very long in the house before being thrown out for betraying all trust she had with the two men that might actually become her only friends.
Just as Aislyn was going to raise the question of edible things within the mansion, Kuvarakh announced his plan to leave them in search of food.
It was slightly ironic- the only person in the building that didn’t need to eat was the only one concerned about food.

After Kuvarakh left, Aislyn found herself following Phobius to the couches their host had mentioned earlier. For a moment, she paused, admiring a particularly detailed piece of architecture on a banister nearby. Seconds later, her attention was brought back by Phobius, who, appeared to be testing the bounciness of the furniture. Aislyn was torn between thinking it was childish or hilarious. Either way, she had to admit, Phobius in general was very good at diffusive stress. Eventually, the boy seemed satisfied with the bounciness of the couch, giving it a satisfactory look as he voiced his approval. After the initiation of the furniture was over, Phobius invited her to sit, and, now smiling, she accepted.

For a few ticks, they sat in silence, Aislyn admiring the many fine details of the house, and Phobius keeping an eye on Kuvarakh- or, when the man disappeared behind a large pair of doors- where Kuvarakh had gone. After that, more silence. It was eerie- such a big building with such little sound. After the earthquake earlier, the room felt empty in silence.
”So…” A solid start to the sentence. The only problem was Aislyn had no idea where the sentence was going. She could always ask stereotypical I-Just-Met-You-And-Want-To-Know-More questions, but it didn’t seem right, considering she’d known Phobius for several seasons now. Then again, she didn’t have anything else to say, so it was worth a shot. ”So I like drawing- Is there anything you like in any particular light? Hobbies and… Such.” She wasn’t good at this.
If it wouldn’t leave the air open for Phobius to fire questions back at her, she would have asked something about family or where the boy was from. But, of course, it would be suspicious if she asked such questions and then refused to answer the same things when they were pointed back at her.
Either way, she didn’t appear to win.


OOCI’m very sorry for the wait on this post; life has been absolutely chaotic for the past few weeks. Testing within a lot of my classes, travelling to competitions, and some medical issues because life just hates me. I should be posting more regularly though, and be back to full speed (hopefully) by spring. I also apologize for the shortness of this post- I didn't want to hold the story back any longer, so I decided I had to go with what I had.

[Kuvarakh]

Architectrix

Kuvarakh looked around the empty dining hall. It had a stuffy feel to it, despite the rich furnishings. He assumed it was the thick drapes, on the opposite side from the sideboard, which was stacked with accessories...but no food.

He shook his head at his optimistic foolishness. 'Why did I think there would be food in this ancient place? There's been no one actually living here for the gods knew how long.' He considered the illusory capability of the Mansion, but doubted it extended to creating the illusion of a full stomach.

He hoped that maybe his lack of success was from the Mansion knowing he did not need food himself. Maybe right now, in the entry hall, Phobius and Aislyn were being served hors d'oeuvres on silver platters. He smirked at the unlikeliness of it, but shrugged off his worry. The two should have thought of food themselves. He could still look for water.

He was disappointed to find no sort of pump apparatus in the kitchen. He did not think the tub was a source to consider. Such things were only there to place dirty dishes in, to soak before washing. "Well, there's got to be a well then." he reasoned.

He looked up at the mural with a grin, wondering if he and his friends looked any more confused than the children in the image. He slid his hand along the polished wood surfaces of the tables and shelves as he made his way to the door on the other side of the room.

He looked appraisingly at the stove array, the one clearly for baking, the other for surface cooking, and decided to inform his companions about them as soon as he came back with some water. They might find some use for them. It also suggested the need for some wood or coal. He figured that could be searched out while he located the well.

He also figured they could always use the stoves for heat, if the mansion became too drafty; set up their bedrolls right here in the dining hall. He reached the far door and grabbed the handle to turn it. He'd been through this door on past visits, and new what was beyond, but he also knew the building could rearrange itself if it desired.

x

[Fable]

As the handle was turned and the little metal mechanisms clicked to release the clasp that kept the door shut, Kuvarkah pushed it open and stepped through into the garden. It was different than before. Tall stone walls lined the edges of the area, starting from his left and wrapping around to connect to a far wall of the house in a sweeping semi-circle. It was tall enough that a person on another's shoulders would only just miss the top by a few inches, and vibrant, emerald vines tangled their way up most of the grey, pocketed surface.

Directly to his right, nestled between the crook of the two walls comprising the main house, sat a metal pump, a low-sided basin beneath it to catch excess water. A comfortably sized wooden bucket hung from the neck of the manually operate water spout, rocking just slightly as he closed the door behind him. With the source of water discovered, it seemed that the only thing left was to find food.

The rest of the garden was a collection of multi-hued blooms and bushes. They were arranged haphazardly, creating a winding path interspersed with patches of fertile, loamy earth, presumably where vegetables or fruit should have grown. Far at the end of the meandering space provided by the various flora that speckled the yard was a single mess of leafs, a strange bumpy looking melon of a sort peaking out from between them, its pale off-green color setting the fruits apart from the rest of the vibrant display. While Kuvarakh could not see exactly how many cantaloupe there were, the bush was only big enough to provide three, head-sized melons.

NoteFor the sake of simplicity, please continue in your posting order as you have done so. I will continue to pop in to describe rooms as well as introduce plot elements when I deem fit, but posting order (unless you all decided to change it, in which case, please just send me a notifying PM) should remain the same! Sorry if this caused any confusion! (And Aislyn, I look forward to your return to vigor in the spring! Please stay healthy! )