A bit of down time (Open)

[Alfred F. Jones]

Alfred had arrived at the manor early, wanting to get a headstart on the other guests. He wanted too explore the house and make friends with the staff and be the first to greet everyone as they came in. So he'd gotten there early, being the first to arrive just as he'd wanted. But what he didn't take into account was the sheer boredom of being the first person there.

He'd spent as much time as possible unpacking his things when he was shown to his room, trying to eat up the time between when he arrived and when the rest of the guests were scheduled to be there. But you can only unpack for so long before you have to find something else to do. He'd tried taking a nap, but he wasn't tired in the least. In fact, he was wide awake and restless.

So he'd gone down to bug the staff. But the butler had chased him off after one of the cooks complained that he was getting in the way of dinner. Not having anything else to do, he decided to explore the house. But after searching every bedroom, messing around in the conservatory and pretending the plants were eating him, and trying to break in to the study, he was at a loss for what to do.

Luckily, there was one room left to check. The big double doors looked rather ominous considering the manor wasn't the most well lit building and they were made of solid oak. The thought that the house could be haunted crossed his mind for the first time and he swallowed thickly before pushing the doors open.

The sight he was met with wasn't that of a room in a haunted house, but a beautiful library with a soaring ceiling, gleaming bookshelves polished to perfection, and books as far as the eye could see. His face lit up like a candle and he rushed to the nearest bookshelf. All sorts of books crowded the room. Literature from every country in almost every language, ancient tomes in Latin, even a few cheap dimestore paperback romances.

Alfred felt giddy with excitement. So finally there was something for him to do until the other guests arrived! And maybe that cute Russian guy from the flower shop...but no, he probably wouldn't be here. No matter, though. He would just curl up with a good book in one of the squishy armchairs near the fireplace. The library had a freakin fireplace!

He selected Gone With the Wind, a guilty pleasure of his, nearly purring as he plopped down in one of the armchairs and tucked his legs under him to start the book.


"Scarlet O'hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were..."

[Mathias Densen]

Mathias wandered into the house, quickly being shown to his room by some maids and a butler. They seemed very eager to get him out of their hair, he noticed. Was there maybe someone here who was already annoying? Once again, he was a victim of stereotypes.
He rolled his eyes and made his way into the large room.

It was stoic, but to put it bluntly, it was also boring. This was why he brought one of his axes with him. He put it up on the wall to help with decor.

He wandered out again, decidedly ignoring the maids and all. He came upon huge double doors that were opened a crack.
Mathias pushed them open enough to walk through and his eyes widened when he looked around the room. There were books everywhere. He followed instincts and grabbed a book on mythology. He was about to go try to find a table until his eye caught sight of someone sitting not too far from him o the ground.

He eyed him for a minute before wandering over to him. "Hey, are you the lord of the manor or what? Just another random dinner guest?"

[Alfred F. Jones]

Alfred had been lost in the burning of Atlanta with poor half dead Melanie and Scarlett fearing for their lives trying to escape to Tara. He was almost to the part with Rhett when the sound of someone directing a question at him shattered his concentration and forcing him to look up at the newcomer. He was another blonde dude and he was...carrying an axe? Huh, that was weird. But he wasn't going to draw attention to it on the off chance that sparking a conversation on the presence of the axe would cause it to come down on his head.

He ginned widely at the other man, shaking his head. "Naw, man. I ain't the guy who owns the place. I'm Alfred, my dad owns the mechanic shop down on Oak street." He explained. He hadn't seen the guy hanging around teh shop waiting for his car, so it probably went to figure that he wouldn't recognize him. But obviously everyone at the house was going to be from Circletown, right?

"What about you? What's your name? Where you from before you came here?" He asked the other man. He figured that the only reason he'd started to read was because he didn't have anything to do while waiting for the other guests, he didn't need to read any more since the guests...er...guest was here. He slipped a bookmark between the pages of his book and set it down on the table, waiting for the other man's answer expectantly.

And there was still the question of the axe. He'd have to pay special attention to that and find out where it came from and why he has it while still keeping the subject light and casual. Gotta play it cool.

[Mathias Densen]

Mathias nodded. So he was another guest here. The directions to the mechanic seemed lost to the Dane. He didn't know the way around town, just that this manor was in it and that he'd been invited here. "I'm Mathias. I'm from Danmark. I used to sell dolls, but now I'm in the fishing business." He grinned, holding out his hand for the American to shake.

He set his book down and took a seat across from him at the large table. "So what kind of books are you into? I rather like vikings and marine biology myself." He gestured to the axe he was rather prominently carrying around.

He began flipping through the book and looked carefully at the faeries. He laughed at how the faeries seemed to differ from book to book. It seemed nobody'd ever met a real one.
"So what do you think of the manor?" He asked curiously.

[Alfred F. Jones]

"Um, I like all kinds of books, really. I like to read alot, so...Yeah like...science fiction is my favorite, though! Aliens and weird mutations and spaceships that travel in hyperspeed. They're so cool! Dystopian novels are fun. Um, yeah and a good romance novel isn't anything to shake your head at. And I really like learning more about history and science so non fiction is another type of book I like. I kinda just like all books. Except shit like Twilight. I'm ashamed that that shit even came from America. It's embarassing."

He scowled a bit, bottom lip sticking out a bit in a pout and brow creasing. Twilight was horrible for his blood preassure. Not that he really had anything wrong with his blood pressure, but it was something Pops complained about all the time, expecially when Alfred played pranks on him. He knew his grandfather found them hilarious, though, so he just laughed and shrugged off the joking threats that one day he'd have a heart attack and die on him because of one of his pranks.

Alfred turned to Mathias and tilted his head a bit, thinking about the question. What did he think of the manor? It shouldn't be a touch question, you either like something or you don't. But there was just something he couldn't put his finger on. It was a lovely place and the library was possibly the coolest part, but there was something he couldn't place, something almost wrong about it.

"I don't know, man. It's a cool place and all, but don't you think it's a little weird that we still haven't seen our host? Man, if I was throwing a party in a bomb old mansion like this I would totally be greeting guests at the door, but he's nowhere in sight. And on top of that I just get this weird feeling like I'm being watched, you know what I'm saying?" He answered at long last.

[Mathias Densen]

At the mention of Twilight, Mathias wrinkled his nose and shivered. Yes, he knew all about the overly glorified porn novel all too well. Newscasters and society held it to the sun as though it was their god. He remembered locking the television in the attic after that. The brainless box knew nothing of the world and it's doings.
"I don't like it either, man."

He searched around the room. The library was magnificent, sure. There were untold amounts of books and knowledge in this room alone. It put his inherited study to shame. But the American was quite right.

This place was eerie. The owner of the mansion had not shown himself once and he wasn't too sure of where he might find him. And he hadn't really seen any other guests arrive yet. The back of his brain said that he was probably going to end up having dinner with only the American boy that was currently across the table with him.
He did feel like there was someone watching his every move from between cracks in the books. His hand reflexively gripped the handle of his axe tighter.
"I haven't quite explored the whole manner yet, so I dunno if I can say for the rest of it, but yeah I see what you're saying. Feels like someone's watching through the walls....."

He thought to himself for a moment before piping up with an idea. It was one that would ease their minds off the eerie feeling of the manor itself. "Hey, let's go see if we can find the bar in this place, ja? We can grab a drink." He smiled at the other blonde.

[Antonio Carriedo]

Antonio arrived a little tired. He had a long day working and dealing with people who needed his help. But not this weekend. No, this weekend he was going to either relax, or make connections to get a better job. Preferably one that dealt with gardening.

He entered the doors to the giant house, only a medium sized duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. The help that greeted him at the door looked at his attire quickly before turning away and leading him to his room. He knew he wasn't dressed to impress, but he didn't really own any nice looking clothes. This was just what they would have to deal with.

He entered the room he was assigned and set his bag down on the floor. Looking around he noticed it was rather bare, excluding various furniture (bed, dresser, etc.). But this was so much more then his small room he shared with many different people.

Lifting his arms above his head he turned back towards the hallway. He knew that he probably should of stayed in the room that he was lead to, but he thought that is he got a head start in exploring, he might run into someone who he could help, and ultimately lead him to a new job.

Work was first priority to Antonio. Working to provide for his brother.

He walked down the hall, keeping an ear out for any noise that might lead him to others; which is exactly what he found. Behind giant double doors, he heard the voices of what he figured was two males. Maybe someone else was there and wasn't talking much? Probably not.

Not knowing if the owner of the house was one of the voices, he knocked loudly on the door to gather their attention. Slowly pushing the door open, he walked in smiling his bright smile.

"Hello, I'm Antonio!" He exclaimed brightly. Nothing like trying to get on their good side early. His hand was raised in mid wave as he walked closer to the two, but keeping enough distance so they won't feel threatened or anything; not that he looked threatening. He was clad in a slightly large white t-shirt that had some smudges on is, and dark jeans hanging off his hips and tucked into scoffed up black boots. A light jacket was tied around his waist; his jacket he wore to work.

"Nice to meet you. Do you know what the owner of this house is like?"

[Alfred F. Jones]

The American was about to reply that not only did he not drink, but he wasn't old enough when someone new burst therough the door. He looked the man up and down, trying to decide what he should be wary of when talking to him, like with Mathias and the axe. He'd seen the Dane tighten his grip on the handle and that definitely spelled trouble. It meant he knew how to use it. But he just flashed them both a grin like he knew absolutely nothing and shook his head.

"Naw, man! That's what we were just talking about. We ain't seen hide nor hair of the guy. I'm starting to think he doesn't even exist and this is some sort of weird gameshow. The letter did mention games afterall." He simply laughed the suspicion off. Truth was, he was worried about much worse than a simple gameshow. He couldn't explain it, it was like an itch between his shoulderblades that he just couldn't get rid of.

"The name's Alfred, Alfred Jones." He said, holding his hand out to the new arrival. "Born and raised right here in Circletown, my dad's the town mechanic. This here's my new buddy Mathias Densen, he's from Denmark." He said, jerking his thumb back towards the other blonde. "What about you? Where ya from, what's your name?"

[Antonio Carriedo]

Taking Alfred's hand, he gripped firmly to shake. First impressions are everything. His blinding smile never dimming. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, at your service. I was born in Spain, but moved here when I was a child." He said, his voice gaining an accent when he pronounced his name.

He turned to the other blond. "And it's nice to meet you Mr. Mathias Densen."

He took a step back, pondering what Alfred had said about not seeing the owner of the house. "Well...this seems like a lot of work to be a game show...I mean the help haven't said anything much since I got here...Wonder what that's about..."

He scratched the top of his head; a tiny bit of him worried about what was to come, but he just decided to just ignore it for now.

"Well I guess until we know, we'll just have to stick together, si?" His smile coming back full force.

[Mathias Densen]

Mathias heard the doors open and jerked his head towards said doors. He watched a smaller Spanish man walk through the doors and greet them with the name Antonio.
Mathias smirked and held his free hand out to the friendly looking guy. "I suppose I've already been introduced, man."

He shot a look at Alfred really fast. Not a glare, just a simple gesture. "But yes, I'm Mathias. I was just askin' Alfred here if he wanted to go raid the bar here. You in or what?" he questioned. He could really use a drink right about now. He hadn't had one since before he got on the plane here and the lack of alcohol was making him just a little on the angry side.

His eyes darted between the two guys. His hand tightened once more on the axe handle and his eyes darted around the room to try and face the books that always seemed to be watching him.
Any moment now and he wanted to swing the giant weapon at the books.
"We can go anywhere. Let's just ah.... go hang somewhere else?"

[Antonio Carriedo]

Antonio chuckled at the reaction Mathias had to Alfred starting the conversation and introducing him. He grabbed the others hand, smiling and nodding in his direction, shaking it.

"Drink? Well...I guess this is a...vacation of sorts...I wouldn't mind having a drink." He looks up, taping his chin while thinking. He looked back over at Alfred, perplexed. "But I don't think Alfred here can drink..." He had a way with understanding ages, and though Alfred looked mature, he still didn't look old enough to drink.

"Maybe we could just find food-and drinks for us-so we don't leave Alfred alo-Whoa! Is that an axe?" His eyes lite up slightly at the sight of the weapon.

Walking towards Mathias, he looked at the tall blond as if to ask for permission to see it. "I had to sell my axe due to money problems...yours it really nice looking. Would it be okay to hold onto for a second?" He asked, it almost sounded as if he was pleading the other male. How had he missed it when he walked in the door?

[Alfred F. Jones]

Alfred grinned bashfully as Antonio pointed out that he wasn't old enough to drink. It wasn't much of a sore point for him like it was most teenage guys as he didn't like the taste of alcohol anyways. Besides that, his father had always hammered it into him that booze was the devil's concoction and that nothing good could ever come of it. So he just nodded and laughed a bit awkwardly.

"Yeah, I'm only 19. I can't drink. But it would be a blast to go find something to eat, I'm kind of frickin starving, here. But the servants already kicked me out of the kitchen for bugging them, so maybe I should wait outside while you guys grab the grub and get the drinks?" He suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the Spanish man practically drool over Mathias' axe. It was a bit suspicious if you asked him. Then again the axe itself was quite suspicious. Why would someone hosting a dinner party allow weapons of that sort into the house. It wasn't his place to judge, not in the least, but he would definitely be keeping an eye on the two of them. He had a bad, sinking feeling about the house and it never hurt to watch a man with an axe, now did it?

[Mathias Densen]

Mathias blinked at the Spaniard. It seemed he had taken a liking to axes. He shrugged and handed it to him. "Just be careful with it, ja? I collect them and wouldn't want to have it get messed up."

He nodded when the other mentioned he'd had to sell his axe. The Dane couldn't even think of selling any of his. He couldn't even imagine ever even needing to.
"Alright!Well, let's go find that food! I'm starved and a drink is sounding really good about now!"
He held out his hand for his weapon back with a wide smile before strolling out of the large library.

He leaned against a balcony edging and looked down. "hmm..... wonder which way the bar is?"

[Antonio Carriedo]

"Wow...." Antonio marveled at the weapon he held in his hands. Of course, it was nothing like his old axe, but it was impressive non the less.

He swung it a little, getting a feel of his before stopping and looking at it one last time. Didn't want to hold onto the axe for too long; he'd get antsy if someone was holding onto his for a while.

He handed it back to Mathias, letting out a small thanks for letting him see it.

He followed the blond out and looked down over the balcony as well, watching as workers scurried to and fro doing various things. He laughed at how hectic they were and wondered if maybe the owner of this house was strict or something.

"Hmmm...well if the workers down there would take a small break and tell us something...but food for Alfred would probably be...in the kitchen..." He nodded slowly, as if it was all coming together in his head.

[Egil Ingólfurson]

Egil wasn't even sure he wanted to be here.

When his parents had found the letter addressed to him and read over it, they had decided that it was a good idea for him to get out of the house, but he wasn't certain that this was the best of plans. Still, he had conceded eventually, his curiosity getting the better of him. His parents had hugged him goodbye at the door, and while this hadn't been his first time away from them, he couldn't help but feel something akin to homesickness already. There was an air of something ominous in the mansion, he noticed--but that was all in his head. When he arrived at his room, he didn't bother to unpack anything except his notebook, which lay on top of everything else in his suitcase. The rest of his things, he reasoned, could wait until later tonight.

He figured that the best way to acquaint himself with the manor was to explore a bit. As he navigated through the hallways (they felt too ornate to be real, as if they were only for decoration and not intended to be actually used), passing doors he almost didn't want to open, he could occasionally hear noises either from the shifting of the house's foundation or from people moving about, though he hadn't seen any of the latter lately. He tried to tread quietly, though if anyone had asked a reason, he couldn't have said why.

When he lost track of the corners he had rounded, Egil finally came upon signs of life, a conversation wafting its way through echoes of loud voices down the corridor. Hesitantly, he approached the source and neared the open set of doors. Glancing inside, he saw a group of men, all of different builds and complexions and, as he listened further, heritages, their accents coloring their words. With all the skill of one used to not being noticed, Egil slipped into the room and marveled for a moment as he realized that he had entered a library more magnificent than he had ever seen. Granted, the only library he ever frequented was the public institution, so there wasn't much he had to compare it to.

Before he could be further overwhelmed by the grandeur, he remembered himself and made his way, without making eye contact with any of the other people in the room, toward the far end of the library. The sheer number of volumes here were already affecting him, the smell of paper and ink making him itch to write.