RPG Duet Story:Diamonds in the Rough

[Guest Midnight Rush]

[i]

Two Diamonds, the Eastern and Western Stars, the gems of Isreal that once were the Eyes in the Statue of King Solomon, were stolen in 300 B. C. The thieves who took the stones, Cassius and Capernicus, could not agree on anything, so they split up. Cassius returned to Rome, and Capernicus went East.

Nearly five hundred years later, the news of the theft leaked. Adventurers and criminals from all across the globe: From Thrace to Kwangtung, sought them. Many just gave up, hundreds either murdered each other or starved to death, but there were a few men and women who became so obsessed with the diamonds, and their perported powers, that they simply didn't die. Of course they left their mortal bodies behind, but their spirits focus forced their spirits to stay until they recoved the diamonds. These few, these deadly few are known as "Seekers".

And slowly, as the hype burned out, the legend and the "Seekers" faded into time's lost pages. Forgotten by man and book alike, no one remembered the Eastern and Western Stars until the 19th century. Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton, when returning to England from the war in Paraguay, stopped in Massachusetts to visit a very mysterious man: Maxiamillion Crowell. Burton reportedly gave Crowell a small box, and the whisperers said that the box contained the Diamonds that were for so long thought to have been in the rough. The Seekers, who had been looking all over Asia, the Middle East, and Europe for the diamonds, slowly but surely came to New England. They found Crowell's House, Blackwater Junction, and killed Crowell and his family.

The Seekers, however, were not able to find the diamond, although they looked and looked all through the house... and the grounds... and the wolf-infested forests that loomed nearby. The box was never found, and the "Seekers" remained there to look...

It is 1890.... An odd little man by the name of Tyler Brock, purchased the home of Crowell and turned it into a sort of apartment building... one that boasted of Victorian furniture and architecture, and of being haunted.
[/i]
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Patrick Beam walked slowly up the path towards the towering manor in front of him. The state of the grounds told him that they were once glorious and beautiful, but now were feral and uncontrollable. He noticed many paths and rusted iron gates in the various directions, making a mental note to follow all of them at a later date.

The building itself was impressive... Many windowed, a built of brick and deep red wood. Two lanterns hung on posts framing the massive oak door, and they were not lit. The entire building was run down, although of high quality. Ivy had long since crept up the walls, and it just exuded a sort of aura suggesting former glory.

"This is my new home...?" He said, wondering what he had got himself into.

[Cyriel]

Leaning her forehead against the glass, she felt her skin grow cooler against the smooth surface. Tyler Brock, his hands on the steering wheel, cleared his throat in irritation beside her - no doubt there would be a mark left on the window. Briseis didn't move, only smiling slightly as she watched the lines on the road continue to pass by in spaced blocks of yellow. As they turned a corner, she finally lifted her head, turning her attention to the new surroundings that they had entered. The noise of the busy street subsided as they drove deeper into the quiet, shady neighborhood. Buildings of the old Victorian era spoke of established wealth, and green ivy only reminded her of the color and smell of money. It was old, almost feeble; Briseis could see that this area, although well-established and rich, was slowly sinking, far past its zenith in life.

"Not far now," Tyler Brock said shortly, his tone showing his own impatience. She, in return, said nothing - what did she have to say? She only watched as more houses passed, the cracked sidewalks lined with tall, old trees that clogged the gutters of the streets with their broad, fallen leaves.

Suddenly, she sat a little straighter, her interest piqued. The monuments and stones of a cemetery passed by slowly, all enclosed within an old, crumbling stone wall. The steeple of a small, ancient church was visible through the thick growth of the trees, and she held her eyes on it until they passed. She slumped back into her seat again, and her uncle cleared his throat again. Another small smile, but she didn't look at him, only brushing the window with her finger.

A few irritated, silent minutes later, the car slowed, and then pulled into a cobblestone driveway. Large oaks covered the poorly tended lawn with shadow, hiding the manor from view. The driveway was long; she was surprised at the expanse - compared to all the others, this was the largest on the block. But finally the car stopped, and Tyler Brock turned off the transmission, opening his door. Briseis stepped out also, looking up automatically at the ivy-covered brick. It commanded her attention from the start, and she stared at it in silence until her uncle coughed. She turned to see him waiting with her bags, and she quickly took them from him. He didn't protest.

As he led the way up the steps to the massive set of oak doors, Briseis tried to take in the shady, tangled surroundings, noting the various paths and iron gates that seemed to be scattered throughout. As she walked in, the interior of the mansion made her eyes go wide; she put her hand to her mouth to make sure it wasn't hanging open. Fine, rich woodwork spanned the ceiling and walls, accompanied by a crystal chandelier that had a fine layer of dust on it. The inside smelled strongly of sterilization and cleaning solution - her uncle had not been the owner very long - but it couldn't completely mask the scent of dust and years of mold that moisture had wreaked. For the time being, the mold was gone, but the slight odor remained - all in all, it was obviously a very, very, [I]very[/I] old house.

"Your room's upstairs with the others," Brock said, leading the way. His stout form led her down a hallway to a flight of stairs, and she hastened to follow him, her bags slapping against her legs.

She hesitated, and then broke the silence, "The others?"

They came to another hallway, and he motioned impatiently, "Yes, the other boarders. Your parents should have told you about this. And this is where the only other rooms are, and I'm sure you don't want to room with your uncle. Adolescents like you obviously dislike adults such as I, correct?" He didn't wait for an answer, only motioning her down the hall after him. It was dimly lit, and she tripped on a rug, but recovered quickly. He didn't even notice.

She glance critically at her uncle. [I]Am I really related to this dude? He called me...an 'adolescent.' What the heck happened to teenager? And if he knows my parents at all, he of all people should know that they wouldn't tell me anything.[/I] But she had no time to nitpick about her parents; Tyler Brock had started to speak again.

"Lacie Golden, Steven Thielges, Patrick Beam," he said, pointing to three other doors. It took her a moment to realize that he had named the other boarders. Opening a door, he ushered her inside, "This is your room. If you need anything, call...in about two hours. I have to go out again." She turned, and he was already gone, the door left open.

[I]Wow...I cannot believe that I'm going to be living here. And who in their right mind would send other kids here? Maybe their parents are high. I know mine are.[/I] Easing her bag off of her shoulder, she sat down with a sigh on the bed. And stood up again. Walking out into the hall, she was slightly uneasy... It was very quiet. [I]So...four rooms occupied, me included.[/I] Walking down the hall, she saw two more rooms, empty, and a bathroom. [I]We're all sharing a bathroom?? This is bound to get interesting...[/I]

OOC: Wow, that was long. I guess I got a little carried away. -_-;;

[Guest Midnight Rush]

OOC: hahaha

IC:

Patrick was sitting on his bed when he heard someone in the hall outside. He was curious, and rather bored from the long journey, so he opened his door and stepped outside.

His eyes met a raven haired girl who was looking rather irritated under a small caravan full of bags. "Let me help you with those," he said, taking the bags from her. "Which one's yours?"

"Um... thanks, I'm not exactly sure which though.. I think it's this one." She said, pointing at one of the doors.

They walked into the room, and found it was empty. He set the bags down, and said "What do you think of this place?"

"I'm not sure yet... Seems a little odd for student housing."

"Yea really, I thought I had the wrong place but lo and behold it is the huge and creaking mansion I get to live in." he said, laughing a little bit.

"Haha yeah," She said. "This place is huge."

"Hey, I didn't catch your name," Patrick said with a very slight smile.

"Thats because I didn't throw it... Its Briseis."

"Nice to meet you Briseis, I'm patrick. Anyways, I'm kinda hungry, do you know where the kitchen is?" He said, extending his arm to shake her hand.

She took it, but only for a moment, "I have no idea... downstairs I'd imagine."

He started walking down the steps, whistling a tune she'd never heard before. "Hey wait for me! Don't leave me to die in all this dust!"

He laughed, "Come on then. Hopefully there's a cook, because I can barely make toast."

They walked down the steps and into the mezzozine, from there they walked down yet another flight of steps and onto the ground floor. There were six doors to choose from, and they had no idea what led to which and which went to whatsit, so it was quite awkward.

"This place should come with a bloody map, this is rediculous. We've tried four of the six and the other two are locked. The dining room is mighty nice but without food all that china is a waste..." Patrick said.

"My uncle won't be back for a few hours, and I'm gettin hungry too..." she said half-heartedly.

"I didn't see anywhere to eat on the way in... did you?"

"Yea.. there was a bakery and a small restaurant of sorts in the village... Too far to walk though..."

"Not too far to run! What would you like? I'll bring some back." He said, hoping to get some excersice. He hated long trips and sitting around, made him feel useless.

"O, well that's nice... since your offering I'll have-" She began but was cut off by the front door suddenly opening. And it opened hard.

No one walked in. Nothing. Patrick walked over to the door, cautiously looking around. "Nothing here... this is freaky."

"Seriously no one?"

"Nope. No one at all."

They were intently staring and the opened door, both wondering what the heck cause the door to open. The waether was not windy... how could they explain the door slamming open?

"What are you two looking at?" A female voice said from behind them, coming from the stairs.

"Nothing. Nothing really. I assume your Lacie?" Patrick said, sounding slightly shaken.

"Yeah.. that makes you Patrick, and you Briseis. The old man metioned you when I first came. The other guy is around here somewhere..." Lacie said, tossing her dishwater blonde hair over her shoulder. Her face showed contempt for the two on the floor below.

"Lacie's too hard to remember... I think I'll call you Ice Queen. Suits you that's for sure." He said.

"Puh-lease.... I'm a princess not a haggy old queen."

Patrick was about to light into her, but Briseis didn't think that starting fights and making enemies was a good idea on the first day of living here. "Hey what about that food you offered me. I'm still hungry, are you going to go? Or do I have to?"

"Yea... right.. I was just going. See you around 'princess'. What was it that you wanted Bris?"

"Um, just whatever looks good..."

BOOM!

The door shut. Very hard.

"Not again... this is getting old really fast." Patrick said, walking over to the door. He tried the handle, but it wouldn't budge. "Grreat. Now its stuck."

"What do you mean stuck?" Lacie spat.

"It means the door won't open sweetheart. We're bloody stuck in this building unless you have any better ideas."

Lacie rolled her eyes and went back up to her room. Briseis looked up suddenly and said, "My Uncle's motorcoach is coming back. He has the key."

"Wow he has a motor coach? Nice." Patrick said.

[Cyriel]

She only shrugged at his comment, and then turned to the door, "Yeah...but he's not coming back for another two hours. I doubt we really want to wait that long to eat, neh?" She tried the handle as Patrick had, but it didn't budge. Cursing silently, she frowned as she turned, "Do you think Brock could've put the lock on the wrong side? I'm sure he's dense enough."

Lacie looked positively shocked, and she put her hand to her neck, "You mean Tyler? Of course not! He's actually quite an interesting man - don't you know that? I mean, you're the kid related to him and all."

Briseis's brows went up, "You call him 'Tyler?'" She put her hand to her forehead, and looked down. Her hair hid her expression as she tried not to smirk, or worse, burst out in cynical laughter.

Indignant now, Lacie put her hands on her hips, "Well, that [I]is[/I] his name, you know. Jeez, what's wrong with you? Fine then, he's your uncle and all - what do [I]you[/I] call him?"

In control of herself again, Briseis looked up at the blonde, "Me? I don't call him anything. Actually, I probably won't even speak with him for the extent of my stay. But please, by all means, call him 'Tyler.' I'm sure it's better than anything that I'd say." Leaving Lacie's mouth wide open, Briseis walked over to the door, and made ready to walk out. Except the door was still stuck, ruining her grand exit. "Oh d***." The words flew out of her mouth, and she kicked the door.

Patrick couldn't help himself; he burst out laughing, trying to stop himself as she turned to him, glaring. "Hahaha - sorry - hahaha..." Holding his stomach, he covered his mouth as well, trying not to let the laughter escape.

Waiting impatiently, and somewhat annoyed, Briseis watched. "...Right...well, since there's no way out down here, I guess I'll leave you guys now." She walked back up the stairs, wandering around the halls.

Patrick came quickly after her, "Ack! Wait for me - there's no telling what the hag will do if you leave me there with her." Lacie, thankfully, did not follow, and they were left to their wanderings. "So, what are you going to do?"

She shrugged again, "Well, I'm not going to be stuck in here. Too boring, and besides, I'm still hungry. I bet that uncle of mine will forget about us in the house and all - we'd probably starve to death before he got back here."

"You're kidding, right?"

She shrugged again. The silence stretched as they walked. "Dang, this place is so weird. How do you even find your way around here?" Suddenly, she and Patrick spun around. An odd creaking sound came from around the corner of the hallway. Her heart beat faster, and she felt her hands grow cold. She swallowed, and took a small step forward, keeping close to the wall. Patrick was right beside her, and they both moved closer.

A sliding noise...then footsteps...faster. They quickly came closer, and her mouth got dry. And then, a dark form hurdled around the corner, and Briseis's fist shot out, connecting with a crack!

"Ooph! *******! What the h***???" A male voice quickly emerged as he held his jaw, which was bruising over. He looked about eighteen, tall, and of Asian descent.

Briseis cringed, "Oh *******, sorry about that. Are you ok?"

"D***! What the ******* is wrong with you??" His eyes were angry as he looked the two over, rubbing his aching jaw.

"Sorry, I really didn't mean to. Kind of...a reflex, I guess. It's just..I don't know. Sorry." Briseis ran her fingers through her hair nervously.

The guy only sighed in frustration, and then nodded, "Yeah, it's ok. I guess this place can creep you out a little. I'm guessing you two are the new ones?"

Patrick nodded, starting introduction, "Yeah, I'm Patrick, and this is Briseis."

"Briseis? Like, lover of Achilles and all?"

Briseis's expression told that she had heard it millions of times, and her fist tightened again.

"Riiight, ok. Calm down, sheesh. I'm Steven. You guys met Lacie yet?"

[Guest Midnight Rush]

Patrick looked at Steven, quickly appraising his build, deciding that he'd give a fight if it came down to it. "Meeting the princess was an experience I'll never forget.."

Steven smiled and said, "Yea I was quite taken with her too."

"Right... obviously you haven't learned sarcasm yet, but no worries! Were is the kitchen?"

Patrick's fast talking overcame Steven's thought speed, and he didn't notice the dry remark. "Um... there." He said, pointing to one of the few doors they hadn't tried.

Briseis grinned, "Thanks... and sorry about your jaw."

"Err... no prob.. you got an arm on you."

Patrick had already gone to the kitchen, and Briseis began to feel awkward just standing around with Steven so she followed quickly. "Hmm... what is there?" She asked.

"Well... I'm seeing some old bread... old crackers... aha! a fresh pie."

"Pie..? What kind of pie?"

"I dunno... guess someones gotta try it and find out." He said, cutting a piece and taking a small bite. "Apple. And a good one at that."

"Oooh! Let me have some!"

"Of course... find some plates will you?"

"Er.. sure." She mumbled, and began searching around for plates, finding some in the third cabinet. "Here's some... I guess it's water for drinking?"

"Yeah... I guess. Unless Ole Brokky had a wine celler?"

"Haha probably.. It'd be hell trying to find it though."

They ate, primarily in silence. After finishing, and leaving the mess, Patrick left for a while, leaving Briseis to her thoughts. Deep thoughts they must of been, for she didn't stir for the better part of an hour. After that period elapsed, Patrick returned, saying "I've found a library. Quite impressive too, terribly dusty, mustn't have been used in years! Perhaps the old man doesn't know about it?"

"I bet he does... although he doesn't seem like the reading type."

[Cyriel]

As Patrick led the way, Briseis couldn't help but notice the goosebumps on her skin. It was an odd feeling; the faint, sweet taste of pie still lingered on her tongue, mixing in with the eerie sense the house seemed to confine. She felt slightly sick, but said nothing.

However, after a few wrong turns, she had to open her mouth, "Are you sure you know the way? After all, we've been wandering again for about ten minutes."

"Hey, of course I know the way! I was just there, seriously. Just...let me get my bearings again. See! Here it is!" He opened a thick oak door, paneled with knarled and knotty wood, with sworls of design carved tediously into the grain. Briseis was impressed, and followed Patrick into the interior. It was quite dark, and the windows didn't help; they were covered with thick curtains which seemed as if they were stiff with age.

"Is there a light in here?" she asked, her hand groping a wall. Patrick hit a switch, and there was a faint buzzing as the ancient lamps flickered to life, revealing the contents of the undisturbed room. They could only gaze on in wonder - thousands of volumes and ancient tomes graced the shelves, all covered with thick layers of dust. Cabinets showed their priceless contents through their glass doors, some of the more valuable books kept safe from invading air particles. Briseis felt as if she had been plucked out of the real world, and placed into one of fantasy; this library rivaled anything she had seen in the movies.

She was the first to move, walking hesitantly over the once-rich rugs that lined the wood floor. Dust rose at the tread of her light footsteps, and she paused before reaching for a shelf. Her finger lightly brushed away some of the dust, and gold lettering appeared on a cracking leather bind. Her voice came barely above a whisper, "...This...is...amazing." Patrick said nothing, only coming to join her as they both started gently dusting off the shelves nearest the door.

Taking a book off the shelf, he handled the pages carefully as he opened it, "Wow...some of these books aren't even printed - they're wrote out by hand."

"What? Let me see." Briseis reached for it, her fingers alighting upon the timeworn pages, thin as rice paper. "Wow, I don't believe this. How old can these be? They must have been in here for ages."

Another book opened before him, he smiled, "Hey, look, it's in Latin."

She glanced over, scanning the page, mouthing the words, but then shook her head, "I can't read it. Never learned Latin."

OOC: Hmm...show some of your skills here ;)

[Guest Midnight Rush]

OOC: If I must... lol I thought for a long time before I thought of something interesting to write, while being fairly certain of its grammatical accuracy, for all of you grammarians out there, forgive me if this is wrong. Thjis may be a lil long, sorry lass....

IC:

"Hmm... this is interesting, written by a woman named Claudia, [i] Mea praenomen est Claudia, aveo ex Italia. Est duae anni post Caeser casus.[/i] She's from Italy, and was writing this two years after the fall of Caeser, presumably Julius but she gives no further information about that. It goes on, [i] Mea dominus Capernicus, est avium. Defleo calamitus, autem Lucretia, mea matertera, addat adlocutio.[/i] Her husband Capernicus seems to be lost or missing, and she wept for him, but her aunt Lucretia offers her words of comfort. She doesn't say whether or not it lessened her pain. Wait a second... this is interesting. Listen to this, I'm skipping down a bit, the next page or so was just a list of relatives, but this: [i] Lucretia denarrat circiter duae geminus lapillus. Mea dominus Capernicus expiscorat lapillus. Capernicus inclaresco ergo in terra oriental, pro expiscorat lapillus. Est mors.[/i] Lucretia tells her about two twin precious stones, and that Capernicus searched long and hard for them, becoming famous in eastern lands because of this search. Then here, where the tear-stain is, it reports that Capernicus is dead."

"Well go on! Why was he searching for the stones?"

"Hey now! I've only been at Latin for a year or so, and her writing is starting to become more complex. It is interesting though, I think I'll hang on to this book for a while and look into it more. What else is around here?"

They split up and looked through the books for what seemed like hours. All of them were interesting, from the blood stained volumes in Arabic to the rice paper scrolls covered in Asian symbols. This was a treasury of knowldge, and they had it to themselves. Several legendary books were in the library, including the evil Necronomicon and the original copy (presumably) of Paul's epistle to the Romans. They each had several volumes they were going to read, and were about to hang it up when Briseis noticed that something was wrong with the wall.

"Patrick! That panel is colored differently! Its white and the others are wood colored.

He looked, and sure enough one of the myriad of tiles had deviated in color. He walked over to it, and tapped. It was hollow. "Its hollow Brise.." He said.

"Well lets open it." She said gravely.

"Hmm... ok. Only one way to know whats inside." He said, and tapped harder, causing the weak panel to buckle, he then punched the panel, shattering it. Behind it was a lever. "A lever? Lets pull it." He said with a devil may cry grin, pulling it down in one sure and confident motion.

A large section of the wood panels slid away, revealing a dark passage. "Whoa," she said, taking a lamp from the table.

"Shall we?" Patrick said, totally enjoying this excitment.

"Sure... you first."

He took the lamp from he and tentitively walked down the passage, it was short and dusty, ending in a moderately sized room. On the walls were apintings of various things, landscapes mainly, and the was piles of junk laying in the corners. The biggest feature of the room was a large mahogany desk. "Hey look! A book on the desk," Patrick said, and walked over picking it up.After he paged through it for a second he said, "This is the lost journal of Sir Richard Francis Burton! Wow... quite a find here."

"Well! What the hell does it say!!?" she said, the excitement beginning to erode her misgivings about creeping about in old houses.

He started reading it aloud when the heard a huge bang. He grabbed the closest thing to hand, which turned out to be an old broom, and rushed back to the library. Lacie had bumped the shelf where the Necronomicon was shelved. It had fallen and layed flat on the ground, it's ominous presence giving every one the chills.

"What the **** do you think your doing! THAT IS PURE ******* EVIL!" Briseis roared.

Lacie looked at the tome, made of human skin, written in the blood of a thousand men, and said, "I'm not afraid of some creepy old book." She picked it up and undid the lock.

"Lacie please stop! Don't open that book it can bring nothing but misfortune! DO YOU NOT REALIZE THAT'S THE TOME OF ETERNAL DARKNESS???" Patrick said, a cold ice in his voice now.

"Its just a ******* book, besides it was an accident, I thought this was a storage room, not a stinking library." She said, and with a defiant smile she opened the book.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRHHHHHHHGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!

The book screamed with the force of a lost and dying soul, it was a truly unearthly sound and Lacie dropped the book instantly. It didn't obey the laws of gravity, and it floated near the center of the room, and began glowing a bright red. It began to burn and six lights emerged from it... the room was filled with the steanch of burning flesh and decay, but the three humans couldn't move... they were enchanted by the hellish display in front of them. The six lights exploded and humanoid forms appeared in their place, all varied in appearance, and they disappeared. The book fell and shut, the display gone.

"You stupid girl.... do you realize what you've just done?" Tyler Brock's voice rang out cold and clear across the room. "It was no accident that you bumped the shelf... the book called you to do it. Those lights you saw will awaken the Seekers... And they will come looking for the Stars again."

"Seekers?" Patrick asked.

"Yes boy, Seekers! I sealed them in six seperate locations on the grounds of Blackwater Junction five years ago, and your stupid friend has just set them free. They are dangerous and vengeful, cursed to wonder the earth until they find the Stars."

"What are the Stars?" Briseis ventured.

He related to them the legend of the Stars, up to the point about Burton's delivering them to Blackwater Junction. They listened in silence, and Patrick clandestinedly tucked the journal into his pocket, he wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling that Brock shouldn't have it.

[Cyriel]

Gray eyes opened, looked upon the world. Misty, mysterious, at once kind and beautiful, light and clear. No trace of the shadow that haunted her soul. No trace of the compulsion that drove her. No trace...of the cold snow that entrapped her heart. She was centered on one thought, and one thought only.

[I]No...make that...two.[/I] A smile flickered on her fair expression, and one would expect the season to sing of perfect harmony. But...it wasn't harmony. It was too perfect, unnatural, something created out of context with the world. Light danced around her, through her, courting her with silent levity. Her smile threw shadow upon it, and it drew back. No, she wasn't natural.

[I]This world...cannot accept me, just as I cannot accept rest. For, I seek perfection. And perfection only. Then we shall be a trio, a match of three. I'm coming, darlings...wait for me...[/I] And she rose, her spirit a silver light seeking the currents of the air, high wind brushing her across the seas.

Towards an ancient house in New England...

OOC: mwa ha ha! :devil: Don't worry, I'll introduce her formally soon enough. :smirk:

[Guest Midnight Rush]

OOC: Drew Barrymore? Wait no thats not her...haha

IC:



The mountain passes were sparkling, having been freshly covered by snow. The sun was setting, and the entire area had a gorgeous gold cast to it, amplified one hundred times by the reflection of glacial ice and snow.

Deep in the passes, where no man or beast could readily reach, stood a small shrine, dedicated to some forgotten god. It was ill-kept, and no gifts had been offered in ages. This was odd however, for it seemed like incense was burning... and nothing was there.

The fragrence and smoke rose to the heavens, shouting presence and giving peace. Slowly but surely the whispy smoke became thick and dark, and the fragrence turned into the foul odor of molten steel. A fire caught below the smoke's origin point, and burned brightly. Very brightly.

The bright fire began taking shape, it formed what looked like an unfinished ship. The fire turned green. Green and pulsing... and where the ship's sail should be, there was nothing. Lightning flashed down from the clear, cloudless sky, and struck the ship. At the point of impact, a dark and hellish figure arose, garbed in the tattered remains of a captain's cloak, spectral in guise. It wasn't living, that one could be quite sure of, because it had no eyes, in fact no face at all, it was merely a skeleton wearing tattered clothes. THat is alarming in itself, but the skeleton begna to move.

It sauntered around the ship, looking about, almost like it wasn't dead. It checked riggings taht weren't there, and mouthed order's to non-existant sailors. It was but a shade of it's former self. Only one thing remained in the husk one, for sheer understanding, must call a soul: lust for the Twin Stars, the Daughters of Sun and Rain, of Fire and Water. Within this hideous mockery of humanity was a burning desire for those gems of East and West...

The ship began to sail, apparently of its own accord, and the captain of the "ship", stood on the deck, laughing uncontrollably. As he laughed, his face and body began to take shape, a face, gaunt and evil, replaced the bleached skull. Still no eyes... His lips formed a thin and harsh line, almost sneering at the world. And the God that made it.

"So long ago I cursed you God. I cursed you for my crew, my ship, the storm. BUt mostly I cursed you because you kept them from me! You kept the Stars from my grasp! But I, Phillip Vanderdecken, cursed by the almighty God to wander the Earth for eternity, shall have them! Even in death! That puny man's spell was barely able to hold me for five years, and the Book has set me free. That man must die. And then I will find the Stars... the precious and beautiful Daughters of Fire and Water." He roared into the sun, spitting every word like it pained him. Resentment burned strong on his spectral face, a truly terrible sight to behold.

OOC: Sorry for stealing your idea... it was a good one. Phillip Vanderdecken, Captain of the Flying Dutchman according to the legends was on a mission to deliver diamonds (and thus my choice of him) to a dealer in Macao when he met with a fearsome storm on the Tierra del Fuego. There he cursed God, and God cursed him back... just a side note hahaha.

[Cyriel]

OOC: Yep, know of Vanderdecken and all from reading Castaways of the Flying Dutchman by Brian Jacques. Quite good. :) Oh, and it's Evan Rachel Wood, not Drew Barrymore. :p

IC:

They left the library slowly, Brock rushing them out in agitation as he locked the fine oak door. Lacie was sulking, still in doubt, and upset that she had been reprimanded. Briseis took no notice of the other girl, watching only Patrick. [I]Where is it? Where's the journal?[/I] For some reason, she felt a deep want to read it, to find out what had been written on the ancient pages. She wanted to know more...about the twin Stars. Patrick, if he noticed her fierce gaze, chose to ignore it, walking silently down with the rest of them.

Tyler Brock escorted them to the familiar hall which contained their rooms, "Don't [I]ever[/I] let me catch you near that library again. Understood?" His tone left no room for argument, although Briseis clearly wanted to intercede. However, this was not the time, and Patrick shot her a warning glance. She only nodded, barely, and went into her room. The others also returned, and she knew that her uncle was still out in the hall, waiting and watching to make sure that they stayed. [I]Wow...it's like being grounded, again. This is idiotic. There must be some other way out of this decrepit old house than a door. Not to mention, there's got to be another way out of my room, first of all.[/I]

Walking to the window, she pushed the panes of glass open, and gasped as she looked down. It was a [I]far[/I] way down...she suppressed a whistle, which would probably alert her uncle. Looking out more, bricks jutted out here and there, and vines climbed around the window. About halfway down the way, a large oak tree sat beside the old house, its branches losing golden leaves.

Swinging her leg over the sill, Briseis gripped the ledge with her hands as she tried to feel for footing. Once she found a brick to support her weight, she started to climb down, one step at a time, avoiding getting caught in the vines. Just as she was reaching the top branches of the oak tree, she reached out to grab one of the branches...

A gust of wind blew past, dusty and hazy as it picked up the leaves and hurled them in agitation. The sea salt was clearly scented in the breeze, and Briseis found herself surprised - surprised, and caught off balance. Not a good thing when she was still thirty feet off the ground. She wavered, and then gasped as she lost her grasp on the brick wall. The salt air lingered.

OOC: whee! ;)

[Guest Midnight Rush]

OOC: Jacques is pretty good... he wrote some other ones.. Red Walls or something. It's been a while, but I remember mice killing stuff... and something about a Stag Hare. lmao... Read a bunch of those come to think about it.

IC:

Patrick looked at his room, then at the door, and then back at his room. "Hmm. I'm not one for being caught in one place for a time I'm not favorable to."

He walked over to the door, and opened it. Walking out into the hall, he didn't see Brock, and he laughed as he started down the hall. Changing his mind, he walked back to Briseis' room and knocked on the door. "Anyone home?"

When nothing answered he opened it and walked in, and he saw the window was open. "This is damn suspicious..." Patrick said, walking over to it. "Ha! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Ugh... hanging on by a vine. I grabbed it on the way down."

"Good idea." He said, nimbly climbing out the window. "I think I'll join you."

"What the **** do you mean you'll join me?"

"See you at the bottom." With that he jumped down, and luckily grabbed the sill. He grabbed the nearest vine and released the sill, it pulled off. He became very uneasy, but kept going. Sliding down the vine towards Briseis, he sort of tried to reach out to her and it didn't work. Both vines broke and they tumbled down towards the ground at an alarming pace.

They passed another window sill, and Briseis had the presence of mind to grab it, and Patrick soon followed suit. "Talk about living life on the edge..." He whistled.

She kicked him in disgust. "What the hell where you thinking!? I wanted you to pull me up! Errgghh..."

"Yea yea yea... whatever. Lets focus on getting down now, ok?"

"And what do you suggest Dr. Jones?"

"Well Ms. Mansfield, I was thinking of landing in those bushes over there."

"Good idea, you drop first so I can land on you."

"Okay." He said, taking one arm off the sill, and fell. But as he fell towards the bushes he grabbed her wrist and they landed side by side. "Hows that for a landing?"

She said nothing, and as they got up and dusted themselves off, they surveyed the various paths they could take.

OOC: Evan Rachel Wood? Never heard of her.

[Cyriel]

OOC: Heehee, Redwall! I've read them all...they're so fun! So cute...and lots of little rodents that talk and sing and eat. That's the life for me! :p

IC:

She shook her head as she dusted herself off, exasperated. "Remind me, if I'm ever in desperate need of help, not to ask you."

Patrick only smiled winningly, "Don't worry, you won't need to ask me. I'll already be in the process of rescue."

Briseis glared at him, "Right. Let's hope you fail before you get me killed, mauled, tortured, or impaled." Before he could answer, she started walking quickly down one of the paths, leaves crackling underfoot.

"Hey wait up!" Patrick ran to catch up with her. "Hey, you mad or something?"

Briseis shook her head coolly, refusing to meet his gaze. Which also annoyed her; [I]he's fifteen, and he's taller than me. This is so stupid - why can't girls ever grow more?[/I]

He looked her for a moment as they continued to walk, and then a sly, knowing smile crept onto his face, "..ah, I see. You weren't, perhaps for a moment there, [I]scared[/I] were you?"

She looked sharply at him, eyes flaring, "No! I was [I]not[/I] scared!" [I]D****t! This is so stupid! Why aren't all guys as dense as everyone says they are??[/I]

Patrick nodded, still smiling as he rolled his eyes, "Uh huh. Yeah, sure. Personally, I think you sounded a little anxious for a second there."

Briseis bit her lip in annoyance, but couldn't restrain herself any longer. Her hand snaked out, flicking him sharply on the forehead. Her tone took a condescending nature, "Silence, peasant. I didn't ask for your opinion." She walked quickly past, and he followed, holding his forehead, where a small welt was forming; at the same time, he was struggling not to laugh. Briseis had to give him credit for that one - at least he had a sense of humor and decency, even if it was a little wry. She shook her head, hiding her own laugh, not [I]quite[/I] as annoyed any longer...

[Guest Midnight Rush]

OOC: "Can I be havin' sum vittles mar'm?"- Anonymous Mole... I am doing this in 12..count em, 12 minutes...

IC:


They walked down the path, Patrick laughing to himself, and Briseis sort of cheering up. As they reach the end of the path, they could see that a large garden lay there. It was mostly unkept, but one could tell of tis former beauty. Briseis walked in and started gazing at the various plants. Patrick walked over to a ruined bench and cleaned it up a little bit. "I'm sorry for the lack of fanfare and pomp, but this will do for now."

She laughed and smiled, "Peasant! I expected better!"

Patrick held out the a book, "How about the Journal of Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton, late of England?"

"You have it! Awesome, I thought you'd been stupid and left it in the library."

"You really thought I'd be stupid?"

She sighed and they sat down together on the bench. He opened the journal and began to read:

" Paraguay.
Since the war has ended, I will be returning to England. I have, however, unearthed several artifacts here, that must be further examined by a friend of mine in the States: Mr. Crowell.

Some months later-

Crowell has examined the stones, and has declared they have great value. He has offered to keep them safe for me, knowing my distaste for the British museums, and I have accepted. He has, however, told me something rather strange: That keeping these stones was very dangerous, and should anything happen to him, I was to look for the stones in the back of th-

The page is torn here. To look in back of what?"