Pain, Lucinda’s head was pounding as she fought to wake up. “Maybe I shouldn’t have had that last glass of beer. This hangover is a b-“ she murmured, her words cut short as she clutched her aching head in pain. Her eyes screwed tighter shut, the woman sitting up groggily in hopes of fetching the Advil from her cabinet. She needed something to dull the pounding in her head. ’ I should get up, sitting here won’t help.’ With that in mind she put a hand to the ground, her eyes flying open in an instant as she felt the cold chill under her fingers. In seconds it was apparent that this was not her apartment in Germany. Instead of the warm wooden interior and plush carpet Lucinda found herself in what appeared to be a cellar. “How the hell did I get here?” she questions to no one in particular.

The warm sensation of beer rushed down her throat, joining the previous two large mugs of beer she had already consumed. It had been a good day, now all she wanted was to relax and enjoy her long weekend. Lucinda took another hearty swig of her drink as a shadow passes over her. The girl turns on her bar stool to face several men, three in all, who had approached her. They murmured something in a language that the slightly drunk shape-shifter didn’t catch, smiling all the while. Something was directed at the barkeep and then before she had time to register what was happening the men pulled Lucinda from her seat. Once outside the establishment Lucinda realized the danger she was in, especially when she noted the scent of chloroform on one of the trio. Too drunk to think her actions through her right arm became metal, ready to fight. After several blows one got the upper hand and knocked her over the head, knocking her out.

At the memory Lucinda groaned, forcing herself to stand. Then, in the hopes of escape, she examined her surroundings. What she saw though horrified her. She wasn’t alone, several other bodies lay on the cold concrete ground. It seemed she wasn’t the only one trapped in this barren basement. Other than the people on the ground there didn’t seem to be anything else in the room besides a club of some sort that lay not far from her feet. “Great, just great.”

Doc's vision faded in and out a few times before he could clearly see. Before he could get a good look, though, he felt vomit rise in his throat. He coughed and wiped the residue from his mouth. "What the h-" he stopped after getting a look at the room. It was empty, a waste land of dust. He scanned the floor and found that he was not alone. A girl was standing, not far from him, and several others lay unconscious on the floor. He also took note of the club beside them.

Doc glanced at the girl, the only one conscious, and examined her as if he was expecting her to be carrying a gun. "Where are we?" He scoffed, rubbing his forehead. The last he remembered was that he was off buying some food. An image of a broadsword flashed through his thoughts, but that was it.

He took a few wobbly steps, before he regained his balance, and inspected the room. It seemed just like the average basement, only bigger and dirtier. "Well damn..." He muttered, "Well this ain't good..." Doc looked down at his clothes. He was still wearing his semi-pedestrian clothes, a white undershirt with a worn brown jacket. Well, he thought, I suppose that's about the only good thing that's come outta this so far...

Otto was having an amazing dream. He had just jumped of the Empire state building without a parachute, and was now free falling through the air while enjoying a cup of hot tea. Unfortunately, Otto was not a fan of tea at all, so when he brought the tea to his mouth, the dream ended. Otto awoke in a cold sweat, and it was not because of the dream.

Otto sat up and looked around the room be was in. If he was not mistaken, he would have thought he was in his home in New York, unfortunately that was not the case. He had awoken in a dark room filled with a bunch of random people, some standing up in confusion, others still have dead. He slowly stood up, he legs wobbly and hid head pounding. "Where in sam's hell I." Otto mumbled to himself tripping over the body's of the unconscious. "Were not in Kansas anymore." He said out loud. He noticed to more people who had awoken also, "So... you guys have no idea what's going on also I would presume." He exasperated.

”Sister? Sister is that you?” Elia called. She’d been talking to a little frog, swimming alongside it as it hoped from lily pad to lily pad, when she’d heard singing. It was certainly a nymph song, and she knew not of any others in the area. Her first thought was that it had to be one of her sisters come to visit her. Hesitating, she’d slipped from the water, some clinging to her and forming into a shimmering, blue gown that flowed about her pale form while she stepped light footed over the moss and rocks. “Sister?” she said again, louder, as the singing came closer. Elia ran around a thick tree before halting. Frowning, she knelt down before a black box from whence the singing came and began studying it. “Hmm…” she murmured, before a sting came into the back of her arm and she became incredibly sleepy.

A soft groan escaped from her dry lips as Elia awoke with a pain shooting down her body, making her turn over so her face landed on dirty floor. Coughing, she sat up quickly and brushed her red strands of hair off her face, dark blue eyes darting quickly around her. She desperately backed up using her bare feet, trying to get away from whatever place she was in, but she just bumped into another body, laying unconscious on the floor, and causing her to yelp.

Standing, the nymph felt a bit woozy, holding her dress to herself and looking around her with frightened gaze. Her vision eventually landed on two men and woman who seemed to be conversing. Shivering, she wondered if she’d managed to get herself kidnapped again. It seemed so. And now she had to be present in front of so many others. She had no social skills for this.

”E-e-excuse me?” she said, moving a bit closer to the ones talking and wobbling just slightly, as the drug effects had yet to wear off 100%.

Thud... thud... thud.. thud...

The hypnotizing rhythm of the janggu drums matched his heartbeat, lulling Seung further into his drowsiness. Ghosts seemed to circle around him laughing, holding hands, circling and circling, their corporeal forms drifting about and coming together again, like smoke in the wind...

Not that anyone else could see them.

Thud... thud... thud... thud...

The beat of the drums seemed to quicken, with the ghost people circling faster and faster, melding together, becoming a blur of white, gray, and black, surrounding him in a ring of light and shadow. He tempo reached a climax, and all drummers cried out at once.

Seung shot up with a start, gasping from the brief nightmare. He scrabbled around, his fingers colliding with his glasses, neatly placed on the stone floor. He put them on, his eyes adjusting to the dim surroundings of a cellar. He rubbed his head, breathing heavily, and glanced around the room. Other people, some human, some clearly not, were sitting up, and looking just as confused as Seung was. He glanced back down at himself. He was been wearing a traditional hanbok, decorated with shades of blue with accents of red, a black suit jacket and plain slacks under it.

"Yes... I was observing a ceremony..." he muttered, piecing together memories. He rubbed his head again, and tried to stand up, managing to only get to one knee, nearly falling over from dizziness. He figured calling a ghost wouldn't do much good here, so he sat back down cross legged, head resting against his hand. A headache had begun to nestle its way into his head.

"Anyone have any idea where we are?" he asked bluntly, placing his hands on his knees.

Unbeknownst to the little picnic group, the hallway outside had begun to change. Actually, that wasn't quite it exactly. Rather, it was still changing even now. Slow, subtle transformations that nearly baffled the eye. But so far, all that appeared to be happening was that the walls were moving. No trick, no illusion, no special effect. The walls began moving on their own, as if it were made of tiles and being rearranged.

They moved with rapid pace, silently waiting and abiding their time. The captured subjects wouldn't be leaving this house for quite a while. There was still plenty of time to set up necessary precautions. Gears and mechanisms twisted and groaned as the very mansion itself began to fortify a inner offensive line. It was eager to keep these creatures detained and under control.

At least, until the Collector returned from his trip.

Lucinda glanced at the individuals who had awoken; her eyes examined each of them carefully before she decided it was best that she reply. “We seem to be in someone’s cellar. Who’s exactly has yet to be determined.” She says, crossing her arms before her. With doing so her arm, the right one which she had forgotten was still in a state of metal, creaked a little before shining in the dim lighting.

Her eyes once again looked over the few but froze on a young woman who looked a little unstable. Seeing as she wasn’t far from her she stepped over and tried to stable her with her left arm. “You might want to slow down, you seem ill.” She chided, hoping not to frighten the poor girl.

Still supporting the girl Lucinda turned back to the three men who were awake. “I know not why we are here but even so I think it would be best to introduce myself. My name is Lucinda Grey, most merely call me Lucy.” She chimes, trying to diffuse the fear and tension in the room. As she was talking she glanced back around the room and was a little confused by a folded piece of parchment on a nearby crate. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was still supporting a dizzy seeming girl she would probably have gone to inspect it.

"Now than... How is it that I've come into this predicament?"

Anari could not honestly remember. He remembered fighting in the hand of a particularly skilled spellsword, though his chosen weapon was more like a rod than a sword. Still, it was an enjoyable battle, very nearly lost their lives when that giant berserker came to cleave his wielder's head off, but they managed to intercept his charge with a simple grease trap, and from there it was just a simple matter of frying his meager intelligence with a ray of enfeeblement. But that did not answer how Anari was now in this dark room away from his former master and with these strangers. They were just as perplexed and confused as he was, and from their appearance, they did not come from the same area.

As the mortals tried to make sense of the situation, Anari was looking around. He noticed the walls shifting, likely living to ensure they could rearrange themselves to suit the needed of the hosts. Or to ensure that they cannot simply break their way out of this room. So he wasn't simply taken by brigands. Perhaps some warlock who sought to use the lifeforce of these others to fuel some ritual of his? Wouldn't surprise Anari. The hows and whys would have to wait however, because even if he could somehow solve all their questions, he was but a mere bludgeon on the floor. He'd need to find a host. Taking notice of three men, he tried to send a telepathic message to the nearest, someone who Anari immediately labeled as "Doctor"(Sharpp). He wasn't sure why, but he simply felt this man was a healer of some sort. Anari had worked with some before, and they usually had no qualms inflicting the same wounds they could later heal.

"You there! Doctor! Come pick me up, will you? I'm the wooden bludgeon on the floor."

Doc took a step back in disbelief when he heard the voice. A weapon was talking? How could that be... In curiosity, Doc crossed over to the bludgeon and picked it up, weighing it in his hands. It looked like a piece of junk, just a bid wooden stick. He questioned his sanity for a moment. Had he really just heard this piece of rubbish talk? He let out a sigh, and talked back.

"Er... Y-you can talk?" was all he could muster. He swung it around slowly, almost afraid that he might hurt the thing. He tossed it up in the air an caught it with a grunt.

"Wait a minute..." he muttered, "How'd you know I was a doctor?" He was now scowling at it, and scratching his beard. Now, he really questioned his sanity. Either that, or he was just plain stupid. He remembered what his father always told him- 'Ya' can't fix stupid, boy!'

"Did you guys hear that?" he asked the rest of the group, which was now mostly conscious.

"Talk? Not exactly. Only you can hear me, and that's because I only want you to hear me... For now. In truth, I'm actually in your mind, whilst my own is in the weapon you wield. And how I knew you where a doctor, well, you look like one. The fact that you are a real doctor is just a happy coincidence. Look, this is all very complicated and as much as I'd like to give you the run down of who and what I am, I think we have more pressing matters to attend. I'm Anari."

Of course, the good doctor could hardly believe him. Anari would have pointed out stranger things happening, such as their mere existence in this room, but Anari honestly cared very little about the bizarre situation. His only concern was getting out of it. Suddenly, Anari began to change shape. It happened quickly, fast enough that as soon as the doctor took his eyes off of Anari, he was no longer a spiked club but a metal crowbar.

"Now, I hope you know how to use a pry bar? Go find a door or something and wedge me into the crack. If we're trapped here, I'm sure most of the doors are locked, so we'll have to get out the hard way. Also, you might have not noticed, but the walls are shifting. I suspect some sort of magic is afoot, so we must be quick with our demolition. Any damage we to do could be undone, so don't waste too much time. If we're lucky, the doors and such aren't affected. If not... Well, like I said, you'd best move quickly."

Doc's eyes widened when what used to be a huge stick, changed into a crowbar. He looked up at everybody else, a confused look on his face, and looked around for a door. There was a large set of dust-covered stairs that led up to a door. It even looked like it didn't want to open. Doc cleared his throat uncertainly, and slowly made his way up the stairs, holding the crowbar, or Anari, or big wooden stick, or whatever it was called, with both hands. The steps creaked loudly as he stepped onto each one.

He looked at the door with a certain disgust and stuck the thing into the door and pulled. It didn't budge for quite some time, no matter how hard he pulled. A few more pulls and he heard a cracking sound. He took the crowbar out and pulled on the doorknob. It was stuck again. Doc tilted his head, now even more confused than ever.

"Ok... I thought it was just about to open..." he muttered, cursing to himself.

Scrape.

Scrape.

Scrape.

The horrid sound, that hellish noise that pierced the air would do well to interrupt all forms of communication and conversation. For one thing, it was incredibly annoying, though the fact that it was originating right behind the door also proved it to be unnerving as well. Anyone still unconscious from their capture would like be rattled awake now by the dark screech, or at the very least incredibly disorientated.

The scrapes sounded like they came from a being with no identifiable mass or weight to it. It simply was. Scraping away at the tiny door that served to separate the prisoners from whatever horrors lay awakened in this nightmarish house. It drew them closer to the door, daring them to escape and explore their new prison first hand.

Either that…or the thing on the other side would make a decision for them.

Scrape.

Scrape.

Scrape.

Elia turned a bit as an older man seemed to be having trouble getting up, and asked where they were. If only she knew. We seem to be in someone’s cellar. Who’s exactly has yet to be determined. said the young, rather pretty girl that Elia had already seen standing. She nodded, wobbling slightly again when the woman came over and held her arm so she could lean on her a bit. ”Thank you!” Elia said with a soft smile, gracious eyes. So, it did appear she had been kidnapped, but at least she was not alone. Being kidnapped and surrounded by others well… it didn’t seem nearly so bad as if one had been kidnaped alone. ”I still feel a bit uneven,” she frowned, or rather pouted. She felt dizzy honestly, not ill, but didn’t argue with the girl, who she assumed was much younger than her. Of course, if anyone looked at Elia, they would never have guessed her true age, so she was hesitant to guess anyone’s true age really.

The nymph took in Lucy’s name, when one the men who had been standing before her as well, moved over and seemed to pick something up. Was it a weapon? Letting go of Lucy, Elia quickly ran behind the girl, holding onto her shoulders and staying ducked behind her form. She peered over from behind the girl. It did appear to be a weapon, and she trembled a bit, wishing she were in a nice cool spring she could disappear into. But the man simply cleared his throat and walked over to the cellar door. Once Elia realized he was trying to help, not hurt, she flushed red and slowly stepped out from behind Lucy, looking embarrassed. Then the scraping started and a small yelp left her lips. She took a few steps in the direction away from the door, staring at it with wide, curious eyes.

”Should… should we make sure someone isn’t hurt out there?” she asked, looking confused. Her first thought had been someone unable to communicate any other way trying to get help, no matter how unlikely that was. It was simply in her naïve nature. ”I’m..” Scrape “Elia…” she added quietly, not quite as wobbly since fear had stiffened her body, eyes darted between the others and towards the door.

Lucinda’s eyebrows were still raised in questioning; now watching the man with the club …or now a crowbar. Even so, the shape shifter waltzed over to the disregarded letter and picked it up in her fingers. In seconds she had it open and was avidly reading it over.
“Doctor, it may be best for you to step away from that door. Whatever it may be on the other side… I think it might be wiser for us to prepare ourselves before facing it.” She calls out, looking up from the letter with a look of worry.
Lucinda sighed, looking back at the letter. “It seems our captor has written us a letter…’ I’m sorry you had to wake up like this, sleeping on the cold ground isn’t very comfortable. You’re probably wondering where you are though and why you’re here. Well that’s simple; you’re in my mansion which will probably be your home sooner or later. It doesn’t have to be though. If you can escape you’re free to go, don’t just try to break out through brute force though. My house doesn’t take that kindly and I don’t want damaged collectibles. Oh that reminds me, if you can’t escape you become mine, that is why I chose you. I wanted another special thing to add to my collection.
Well good luck, I look forward to spending the rest of eternity here with you all.
Signed,
The Collector.’” Lucinda read. Now the shape shifter wanted nothing more than to get out of here.

As the door was opened through such unorthodox means, the being that had caused the methodical scraping…was nothing. Nothing at all. Or maybe it had left long ago? Impossible, as they would have all heard such a massive creature lumber off into such unknown territory. So then, what was it then? What had caused the scraping? Or was it never anything at all? Something that served to be only a preview to their time spent in this mad house.

The hallway was long and narrow, and those captured would have to be forced to proceed one by one in a linear fashion. On both sides of the corridor were rows upon rows of beautiful portraits of various landscapes, though there appeared to be something wrong with them. In each and every one there was the image of flames depicted. What they meant was anyone’s guess.

The sound of light orchestra music also filled the hallway, ringing in the prisoner’s ears. It was majestic and gentle, as if the piece from a ballet routine or some other formal dance. The music seemed to be coming from down the hallway, beckoning to the prisoners to enter deeper into the manor’s depths.

And so the Collector waited…

Doc took Lucinda's words seriously and backed down the stairs. The third-to-last step made a loud creaking before snapping in to, making Doc's leg slip through, cutting himself lightly on a piece of splintered wood. He quickly pulled it out, tripping over himself. He looked to the step, which was now fixed and unscathed from the incident. He moved over to it, the floor still making uneasy creaking noises, and stared at it. He pounded his foot hard against it a few times, but it was just like new. It had to be the work of this... 'Collector'.

"Hmmm... Seems we're gonna have trouble gettin' outta here..." he mused, stepping away and moving to the wall. He flicked his hand in the air a few times, his hand now starting to glow, snapped a few times, and placed his hand against his skin where he'd been cut. The wound quickly closed, and he wiped the blood away from the wound. If they were all 'collectible', then they must all have some sort of... power, or something.

"Hey, maybe we should all introduce ourselves before we do anything... rash. I mean, if we're going to be here for a while, it might be wise to know what we all can do." he suggested, still holding onto that odd, little, shape-shifting crowbar.

Anari didn't like it very much when the doctor stopped trying to pry open the door. "What are you doing? We almost have this! Don't tell me you're scared of what's past the door!" The weapon than gave a silent sigh as the doctor stumbled back, somehow managing to hurt himself in the process. While he did notice the wood regenerating form the damage and the doctor's own magical healing ability (Thus validating Anari's suspicion that the man is some sort of healer) he was more concerned that the man had stopped trying to escape. A multitude of things happened at once, though Anari's only immediate concern was hoping that this man would be exchanged for someone who was more willing to act. He turned back into his original form, the spiked club, before speaking into the man's mind once more. "Peh, don't worry about that. the way is open, let us find our captors and be done with this place."

The sounds of turmoil and strife were like music to the empty hallway, though they were nothing compared to the constant repeat of classical music that continued to play. Seeing as the man and his talking club were preoccupied with their own conversation, the manor decided to greet its new guests in its very own way.

A low creaking was suddenly heard in the long corridor.

A second of pause before the hallway began to suddenly morph and change. It was as if the manor itself was groaning and turning, twisting and contorting to fits its own needs. Gone was the hallway that had layed right before them from a few moment’s prior, replaced now by a bright and new image.

The house had transformed with little rhyme and reason, and all of them had seemingly stumbled upon what looked like a grand ballroom. And yet, if they were to look behind them, the prisoners would still be able to view the basement; only what lay before them had changed shape.

Were they still inside the manor at this point?

Under normal circumstances, the ballroom would have been beautiful. A silver chandelier hung high above them while the entire floor was paved with strokes of crimson and marble. Gold and purple decorations adorned the walls everywhere, giving the huge room a radiant glow. The orchestra music from before was now loud and overpowering in this new location. Just how big was this place anyway...?

A flash of movement whirled by suddenly. Something fast and moving in the center of the ballroom. It looked like...a person. Though it could just have been some hallucinating, given the house’s apparent sentience...no, those movements definitely looked too real to be a dream.

The figure was a girl, who moved with such grace and elegance as she danced alone on the grand stage of the center. Her pale skin contrasted with the pitch black dress around her figure, crowned atop with equally long black hair that covered her left eye with long bangs. Her single seen right eye was a deep crimson, as red as the flooring of which she was dancing upon. After a final twirl of movement, she paused to take a bow to an imaginary crowd before finally noticing the group of very strange people no doubt watching her.

"My goodness, you all startled me!"

Walking over to them, she bowed politely and flashed them each a warm smile.

"Apologies for the rude endeavor. You seem to be...lost. Tell me, is there a certain reason you're roaming this mansion?"

The girl titled her head to the side and blinked in surprise.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot! Apologies once more."

She bowed once again to emphasize her point.

"I don't really have a name...but you may address me as Marianne."

Lucinda flinched, having heard the snap on wood, but was shocked to find the man healing himself. The shape-shifter looked slightly intrigued by this new discovery but kept it to herself.

“That might be wise. I guess I’ll start. My name is Lucinda Grey, I will not take offence if you choose to call me Lucy, and I am a shape shifter.” She stated proudly. Then, as if to prove her point, the arm that was once metal began to shift. The sound of bones creaking and bending could be heard as it became something similar to a bats wing. It did not remain that way for long however, the limb once returning to one of flesh and bone.

As she had done this the room shifted as well, as if they had been transported into what looked like a grand hallway. A look of confusion and shock danced across her face, only to be replaced by a fiery look of determination when she caught the voice of a newcomer.

Glacier like eyes locked onto the figure dressed all in black, Lucinda’s lithe form taking up a stance much like a warrior. I don’t know if she is friend or foe, or even what she is… all I know is I have this feeling in my gut that she is dangerous. Lucy thought.

This place merely just got stranger by the minute.

Doc heard the crowbar speak to him, but didn't really pay attention. The room shifted, making him even more confused. He looked at the others with confused glances, unsure of what exactly to think of the situation. When he realized that it was an awfully glorified hall, he could hardly even breath. His stomach flopped over in confusion. When the room stopped shifting, he saw a girl dressed all in black clothes. He stepped back a bit. She was dancing, and as she twirled around, he saw a bright red blur dancing around the girl's head. He assumed maybe it was some type of headband or something, but when she stopped, he saw that it was her eye. When she spoke, she just filled Doc with not only confusion, but wonder. What, or who, was she really?

Doc took a step forward, not quite sure whether or not it was a good idea. "Alright er... Marianne... D'ya know where we are? 'Cause we woke up here and... Well, we don't have any idea what happened..."