Morningstar Manor

All Saints Day, sunset.

That's when they had agreed to leave. They weren't going to be dragged kicking and screaming into the next world, Manny and Marek had agreed.

So they lingered near the maze near dusk, to say goodbye to a last few good friends before going to whatever awaited them.

Last night they had cleared up the glass and had taped a sheet of polythene over the frame to stop any other bits dropping out. In order to take the frame down they'd need to close off the corridor completely and hey couldn't do that while the party was in progress.

But now it was quiet and Nick and Charlie worked well together, each with partners about the size of the other so used to playing on each others strengths.

Charlie said, "Okay, that's got it, Just hold it there a moment," and Nick supported the weight of the mirror while Charlie got down from the step ladder.

Together they lowered the beautiful frame to the dustsheet, wincing as more pieces of glass fell.

"Can you restore it?" Nick asked and Charlie shrugged.

"I can make it look as good as new," he said, "but it won't be the same. There are some things one can't replace."

"No," Nick said with a sigh. "I guess not. Any idea what might have happened to them?"

"Well I did wonder ..." Charlie said and took a little scrap of carved wood with an even smaller chip of mirror set into it from his pocket. He tilted it to show Nick. "I used to use it to give Marek a lift. I guess it's too small for two though. Ah well, let's get the mirror down to the Mousehole and I'll see what I can manage."

With a big party on Sunday night, and nobody wanting to work that day, obviously, Nick was taking no chances. Although the maids cleaned the ballrooms he had gone into them to change the lightbulbs and top up toilet paper, hand towel and soap dispensers.

Then he gave the top third of the big mirror a polish. One of the shorter girls must have done it and had missed some bits.

It was almost dark outside, and one of the long windows in the ballroom was open, so the curtains were fluttering softly in the evening breeze.

In the chandeliers, the crystals were moving with a quiet tinkle, then quietened, leaving the ear waiting for the next sound.

Was there a guitar playing a classical tune in the silence? Was there a pale shape, dancing in the gathering evening gloom?

Or perhaps they were hiding behind the pillars, chuckling?

At the end of October would be the usual Hallowe'en Ball and Nick had takent eh decision that this year he wouldn't be caught out at the last minute for checking the chandeliers for dust and blown bulbs. So he was up a ladder with a bright yellow duster tucked into his left back pocket and was replacing a light bulb.

It was an annoying task. He had to turn on the light, make a note of which bulbs were blown, replace them, get down, turn on the light as see if he had remembered right. Problem was that the angle he was looking at the chandelier when he was by the light switch was very deceptive. He was having to do them one at a time and fix his eyes on the duff ones as he climbed the ladder. It was taking ages.

Emma had put the phone down after a long chat with Ang, and yes, Alec too, even Gavin had gurgled at her, and finished her cup of tea, then fetched up both dogs, and headed for the gardens. They needed a longer walk tomorrow and she was thinking of taking them out for a long hike, but for now the gardens and a dozen or so laps, along with assorted fetch and tug of war games would have to do. So for a while she was settled on the lawns, throwing tennis balls in various directions and laughing as Faith and Lily raced each other to bring them back.

Spencer was hiding out in the Gazebo, he was fairly sure his mother was likely to call, so had left his cell upstairs, and instead bought some paperwork with him to read while he sipped on his coffee. A whole batch of papers had just slipped from his grasp though, and were now drifting about in the breeze as he tried to catch them without spilling his drink - if only he'd thought to put it down.

Icene was basking in a secluded corner that had sunshine, not working on her tan as much as trying not to burn, but then, she had plenty of sun cream, at least on the bits she could reach. An ice cold, and staying that way, bottle of white wine sat next to her, along with the one glass she'd poured and was currently sipping. She had a veritable picnic in the bag by her feet, but, so far, no-one to share it with.

Jane was not too far from her apartment windows, in a more shaded spot, wearing a large floppy brimmed hat, and a long-sleeved but very cool loose cotton kaftan type thing. She'd bought it on a whim because the pale blue fabric was covered in little white daisies with yellow centres, but she really wasn't sure even now that it was a good choice. Bare feet peeked out from under it as she struggled to keep her attention on the book she was trying to read. Any distraction from a childcare textbook would probably be more than welcome!

Gregori was just outside the Mocha doors, on the phone to his builder, and slugging down a bottle of water fresh from the Mocha's fridge. He was not in the best of moods, but the sunshine was helping, along with abject apologies and promises of cost reductions... after a few more exchanges he hung up and sighed, then rolled his head on his shoulders before leaning back against the sun warmed wall and almost, but not quite, wishing he smoked or something.

Cleo was in the tenant gardens, admiring the plants, and occasionally pulling a random weed out of a plot here or there... and if she pocketed a few leaves of bay, or a sprig of rosemary, well, nobody would notice right? She did draw the line at pinching strawberries though, leaving those well alone in the plots where they were, just, oooh, garlic chives! Those would be good. She wondered how difficult it would be to get a plot, then she could maybe grow her own herbs outside, they usually tasted better than indoor grown...

Charlie was happily concentrated with three separate paintings on the go. He had always liked working like this - it saved so much hanging around time while washes dried. The two water colours lay on their table easels and the larger acrylic was propped on the high tripod easel, and Charlie's painting mix of music played quietly in the background while he went from picture to picture on his spinny wheely chair.

From the living room, if he strained his hearing, he could hear some kind of sporting event on the tv, and Nia was sound asleep, worn out by their play in the snow that morning, so Charlie could paint undisturbed with a clear conscience.

Anastasia stood in the garden, definately not dressed for the weather in a pair of dark jeans, black slouch boots, the tank top she'd gotten as a secret santa gift and a open cardigan. She was shivering and her hands were starting to go numb, but she'd get inside just as soon as she could stop camera ninja-ing all the pretty snow and ice that had settled in on the various fixtures in the garden. Hyperthermia? Pffft. Second fiddle to art.

Niles was feeling froggy today. He had plans with Kara for Christmas eve, no plans for Christmas day aside from handing out gifts to his friends, and that made him happy. Wearing a t-shirt that had been given to him as a joke (dark blue with the words "Sorry ladies, I'm gay" on it in white letters) and a pair of jeans, Niles headed down to the Mocha. He might get himself a coffee and then go buy himself a KISS pinball game for his apartment as an early gift-to-self. Fuck it.

Isabella sat in the Mocha slightly more tan and definately jet lagged in a black dress and a pair of leopard print shoes. She'd just gotten back from Hawaii with Micah and was hoping to have some time before they took off to NYC to see her mother to rest up. Stiffling a yawn, she flipped the page of her newspaper and conciously avoided checking emails on her iPhone.

Bea stood in the conservatory with Pippa in a vintage Catwoman t-shirt and a pair of jeans, trying to remind the puppy that it wasn't okay to poop in the flowers.  Ever. Nor was it okay to eat them or dig holes around them. Sighing, she pinched the area between her eyes and made a mental list of all the things she needed to do before Christmas.

Declan was in the ballroom, quiet as a mouse, wearing a black leather jacket, a black and grey scarf and a white v-neck t-shirt with a pair of jeans and smoking out the door to the outside. What? It was freezing balls out there and he needed a cigarette to go with the hot cup of Mocha coffee cradled in his left hand before he went back into the Mocha to finish reading the paper. Later, he'd probably do some last minute shopping for Jack and Sterrin.

Speaking of, Sterrin was up by the pool in a very tiny and pale blue bikini, lounging in the sun like a cat. She had masses of wrapping to do even though she'd only bought gifts for Declan, her mother, one or two for Jack and Leo, and one for Isabella. She wondered if she should buy a gift  for Max or even Trevor. Did sleeping with someone more than once necessitate a gift? Pondering, she flipped over on the lounger and let the sun warm her back.

Drew was in line in the Mocha fresh from the hospital and still in a pair of blue scrubs. They were comfortable, and after he had some tea, a cookie, and dominated this game of Bejeweled Blitz on his iPhone, he was soooo going to go upstairs and crash.

A lonely woman in white wandered the grounds of the Manor, the image of her flickering and sadness pouring off of her.
Dead. She was dead and Niles... Niles was miserable. Because of her.
The man had taken her away after the last time she'd talked to Niles, but he'd let her watch. He'd told her of the things that Niles did. He let her see him go home, let her watch, paralyzed, as Niles cried at her grave. He let her watch as one woman, then another and another came to Niles and how Niles tried to keep them all at a distance. Niles was so different. 
She watched him struggle to be good. She watched him force himself to be bad.

For some reason, the man had put her back here today. She hated it here. People either couldn't see her, or if they could they were afraid of her. She'd went immediately to Niles' apartment and watched him sleep, but he seemed to sense her even then, if the grimace of pain and the muttering of her name was any indication.
So she wandered, up and down the halls, in and out of rooms, and all over the grounds.

Saturday at 11 am, and the Mocha was really busy. Among them were:

• Andras, who had visitors. One of them was his brother Lajos, in the City again for lawyerly business, even though he no longer kept a flat here; the other was a bloke he brought along to sleep on the sofa, some researcher from Cambridge whose cousin apparently was Ilona's best and most high-strung graphics designer, here to briefly consult something arcane that was kept at Rutherford. Andras had no hope of even understanding what it was, except that it was Historical; so the bloke was most likely a historian, right? Funnily, though, he was from the same area of Old Blighty originally where Charlie had that farm Andras visited once; so there was something to talk about, at least.
• Charlotte James, who had just been to an early morning visit to the new spa, and was discussing the relative merits of that versus the Michael's Brothers spa with Maude Temminck (whose character had much improved, Charlotte thought, since she was widowed, dried out, and had a grandkid) while her son Manny was sitting peacefully by, as if the chatter of women was no more meaningful than the waves of the ocean, and just as calming. On his lap, little Morgan Temminck was fast asleep. Theoretically, he was waiting for his wife, but Charlotte got the impression that he was content to just sit there.
• Cindy was sitting a few tables on (having said hello to Charlotte and her lot, but still uneasy about the Temmincks, so she hadn't joined them), talking to the Indian woman, Chandika, and her adorable kid whose dog Hanu was most likely the illegitimate son of Axminster, but nobody minded any more, not even the owner of the mother, because Hanu was such a great dog, and while not pedigree, still an indubitable lurcher. They were talking about spas as well -- in particular, the one where Chandika worked. Cindy was very cautiously trying to work out whether it would be all right for her to go there, and Chandika was doing her best to gently reassure her that of course it was. The dogs were both under the table in classic Axminster pose, fast asleep.
  
• Ricky had his earbuds in, surfing MySpace on his netbook; he was sharing his table with some tall stranger with lanky hair and a large nose who was also working away at his notebook -- a rather larger and posher one. They were both drinking chai latte, and any attentive observer might have realised that they were each drinking distractedly from both cups and totally not noticing. Unless one of them had the swine flu, it probably didn't matter.
• By the door to the conservatory, two ghosts were lurking, mostly unseen by the rest of the Mocha. "Just listen to them!" Marek was saying. "They're totally superficial! All they ever talk about are spas." Manny shrugged. "I've spent my life talking about business; spas are a nice break. And I don't like women for their conversation, you know. More for their curves." Marek laughed.

[[OOC: Brief visit of Lajos Toth and Edgar Cobham to justify the icon and make sure that all twelve are really there!]]

On the way home Cleo had called to say she was missing some crucial ingredient - some kind of spice Jazz had never even heard of - for the dinner she was making and was going out to find some. So, seeing as how the apartment would be empty anyway, Jazz turned into the Mocha upon returning back to the Manor and settled herself near the window, enjoying a cup of something frothy and picking at a muffin.

~.~

Mommy had mentioned wanting to check out the new spa, so today Alec provided, changing into a pair of board shorts and a cut off shirt - his scar was well and hidden, but the black edges of the tattoo on his chest could be seen. After gathering up some necessities and his son, he headed up to the roof.

He set down several thick and fluffy towels on a lounger and a diaper bag, then went to sit on the steps in the shallow end of the pool, holding Gavin in his lap. The boy squealed and splashed, making Alec smile as the sound echoed through the pool house.

~.~

Riley was in the hallway off the ballroom, pausing on his way back from the bathroom, frowning at his reflection in the funny gilded mirror there. He had some, stupid, dinner party thing tonight and his bow tie was refusing to cooperate.

It was Saturday morning, and around the ground floor and basement, people were busy:

• Chandika was looking around the place that was going to be the creche, admiring the colours and furniture, trailing the smell of coffee, from the cappuccino in her hand;
• Ricky was in the conservatory, drinking tea, but still smelling slightly of last night's hemp smoke;
• Manny was in the lobby, home from his morning run with a bright, sportsy push-pram, still hopping as he waited by the elevators, a faint smell of used diapers coming from the pram if you bent over little Morgan, who was fast asleep in there;
• Charlotte was just entering by the grand doors, having been shopping already, the scent of mixed perfume testers coming from the small but exquisite Michaels Brothers bag dangling from her hand;
• Cindy was in the first elevator that stopped and opened, with her dog and in a marathon-class racing wheelchair, leaving a scent of citrus shampoo as she cheerfully left for her morning run;
• Marek was in the ballroom, going through classical exercises at furious speed, smelling of nothing but the dust motes moving through him, undisturbed;
• and Ashley was in the library, looking at art books and loving the scent of old books in the morning.

Sasha was sitting in the Mocha, drinking an idea coffee and also trying to protect it from a very interested baby. Morgan was trying to get into everything at the moment! Every time she made a grab for the cup, Sasha would catch her hands, and pretend to eat the chubby little fists, making the little girl giggle and squirm delightedly. In between coffee rescue missions, Sasdha was trying to read the latest copy of Psychology Today, but she really wasn't getting very far.

The ghosts had spent a longish not!time happily dead in the mirror, and when they came out this time, it was really summer. However, there was something else they noticed more.

"Emmanuel," Marek said, looking and listening about the lobby, "I think there are many new people here we haven't met yet!"

"Women, too, I guess?" Manny said, grinning invisibly around the Mocha.

"Yes, women, too. We really ought to try and scare them a bit," Marek said, ghosting through the library.

"Once they know us, they'll not longer be scared," Manny said, wafting by the maze. "Not that I mind! Once I know them, I'm glad if the women are happy to see me."

Marek laughed, and pushed the short, stout ghost affectionately on the shoulder, and then they went off to prowl in earnest, ground floor and basement, Mocha, conservators, library, bookshop; games room, laundry, gym and garage; gardens and the dank reaches of the lower basements, where many old forgotten things were stored, and a lightless underground river was buried out of human reach.

And in all these places, they could find easily scared newcomers and old acquaintances, natural and preter, to scare, stalk, or simply speak to.-


[[OOC: Get one, or get both -- say so in your tag! Also, it is as always entirely up to you in how far your pup can see and hear them, feel their icy touch, sense a presence, etc. The ghost are friendly, but quite impish!]]

Nick strolled along the path, litter pickers in hand, whistling quietly to himself. Working Saturdays wasn't too bad when one had a job like this to do and the weather was reasonable.

He stooped to pick a discarded candy bar wrapper and put it in his garbage sack then walked on.

[ooc: we numbered our pups and choose them using this handy little item. Other than that the rules are fairly elastic]

Fin was finding his way around. The publishing company was in an ugly modern building in the business district but he only had to call in there once or twice a week. In between he roamed the town looking for interesting things and people or hung out in the libraries or at the museum or university, depending on what he was required to write about.

He also did some exploring on his own account and had found the most lovely little Square, with a park and war memorial, and a cafe and gallery, and a lot of interesting and enticing shops. Currently he had a large bag full of soft furnishings at his feet and was going through his mail.

Sadly junk seemed to be ubiquitous.

They had had a wonderful play in the park and another in the garden and then had got drinks.

Now Nia was sound asleep in her stroller, thumb in mouth, arm around Brian, and Charlie was sipping coffee and drawing her on the back of an envelope. Then he drew one of the statues. Then he drew his own foot. Then he drew Deacon's bottom from memory.

Pity was he was running out of envelope.

It was traditional now [ie they'd done it once] so Charlie went round and put up a few notices and spread the word as far as possible:
SUPERBOWL SUNDAY

BALLROOM, BEER
BRING YOUR OWN BEAN BAG
6 til whenever
HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE


Charlie checked that everything was ready, counted the chairs and nodded approvingly.

Then he went off to the gallery because he still had an exhibition launch to see to.

This Saturday evening, there were two ghosts in the ballroom, sitting on the counter and playing chess. Manny was winning, and Marek was trying very hard not to be a sore loser.-

The mirror opposite the restrooms was haunted.

It was always haunted, but today, more than ever, as the ghosts were enjoying a friendly bicker.