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. (mote) wrote in rooms, @ 2015-08-30 17:47:00

Gotham: Vanessa, Mina, Dracula, Victor
Who: "Alexei," Vanessa, Victor, Mina
What: Exploration, part deux
Where: Gotham Cemetary: 1 and 2
When: Immediately after this hallway interlude
Warnings/Rating: Likely none

"To new soil," Vanessa said, and Mina turned the knob that led into Gotham.

With the door, she went. White dress and scandalously bare shoulders against the heavy and old wood. Mina did not step away. Rather, she pushed the door with her body, and she remained against it.

It did not open as before, when Griffin propped it for her within a park veiled in verdant fog. No, this was altogether different. The inside of the heavy door was stone, and yet the blonde girl had no trouble keeping it open long enough for her expedition companions to enter. Shocking, surely, a woman holding a door for two men, and she rather expected dear Victor to perish from the scandal before the evening called itself done.

Evening, for it was mere afternoon, but the place the door deposited them had no lights whatsoever. Dark and dank, and Mina sniffed the air daintily and wondered at the newness of being able to see in a place without lights. Her basement rooms had candles flickering, and this was a complete void, a nothing broken only by something grated ahead.

But eyes settled, she knew, and she reasoned her companions would soon understand they were in a crypt. A mausoleum, surely, and the stone sarcophagus that took up the center of the room was ornately chiseled, and she walked to the grate and wondered if she could pull the iron from its hinges. It bore initials, the door, and realized she should be troubled by this particular turn of events.

Beyond the gate, people were visible. Gathered, there, in modern finery and beneath twinkling candles and paper lanterns. Still day, still afternoon, but the thick fog was like syrup and it blocked out the sun in solemnity for the party collected in this macabre place. For, and make no mistake, a party it surely was.

There was a table set with drinks, and Gotham's bored society chittered and chattered among the dead. Tables of food, music by violin and made for waltzes, as the dead surely didn't mind those terribly. But pride of place, that was taken by a large and round table, chairs around it and a candelabra in the middle and crypt and stone-winged angels watching the feast-goers.

Mina knew that she should yank hard upon the grate once more, terrified, but she could not bring herself to do so. She turned to the others. "I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain," she quoted, excited, and again with that facility for remembering verse that had come with the loss of one life, the beginning of another. Her eyes were bright. "There is music." She moved aside, so that the others could pull the gate open, without it looking conspicuous. This, at least, she managed to do, and all upon little slippers that bounced on the earth of the dead.