Jonas Landvick

6:43 pm

As Jonas left the library and Kim behind, the brandy he had been drinking was working its magic. It warmed him up nicely, like embers in his core. He had said to Kim that he'd go back to the bar, but then he got to thinking about what she had said about her phone and decided to see if his wasn't working either. With that in mind, Jonas started to slowly ascend the gorgeous staircase to the second floor, heading to his own room to get his phone. He tried to listen as he walked, hoping to hear signs of life in the huge building.

Once he got inside his strangely decorated room, he searched his bag for his cell phone. Finding it, though not easily, Jonas checked and sure enough, there was no signal. He sat himself on the floor of the room, not sure what to make of it. Was it normal for a place like this to have no cell reception? Sure, it was isolated, but it was a home. A busy and very wealthy home. A busy and wealthy home that he'd been invited to for no earthly reason, no reason that Jonas could think of anyway.

He drummed his fingers on the rim of his glass, keeping his hands busy while he became further lost in thought.

Or maybe he was just looking a gift horse in the mouth. A five thousand dollar gift horse, complete with a free trip to a luxurious manor in Germany. Besides, it had been a long while since he took some time for himself, it had all been work lately. Interview these people, write this report, don't look at each other, don't enjoy yourself.

Jonas sat there for some time, much longer than he expected, staring at the phone in his hands, his curiosity eventually losing to his growing ache to have a good time. Perhaps it was the brandy, which had by now been drained from the snifter and was seeping into his thoughts. Everything seemed warm, physically and mentally. Why shouldn't he try to have a good time? No reason to waste all this free hospitality.

“Oh, what the heck, why not?” Jonas mumbled as he stood up from the floor and left his empty glass on the floor. He left his room, determined to find something fun to do instead of, well, thinking too much about everything.

6:56 pm

Jonas meandered down the stairs to the ground floor, wondering what time it was. Just as he reached the bottom, the door to the ballroom opened briefly and Sol emerged, speaking in German over his shoulder to someone else. Giving orders, probably. When Sol spotted him, he dashed towards Jonas to the young man's surprise and exclaimed, “Hey, Jonas! What’re you doing? Doesn’t matter- bar, drinks, now! Go!” Sol chivvied playfully, all but pushing Jonas towards the bar room.

Jonas grinned at his good fortune: here he was wondering how to have some fun, and along comes the charming foreign millionaire to show him. “Mr Wolf, I like the way you think.” He said, stepping through the doors with the other man. “What's your poison, then?”

Sol shoved him a little and said, pretending to be serious, “Never call me ‘Mr Wolf’. And you’ll see…” Sol motioned to Felix, who was behind the bar and said, “Félix, two please.”

“The usual, Herr Wolf?”

“Oh yes.”

As Jonas approached the bar with Sol, he decided to get a better look at the bar, since he really didn't last time. It was sleek, sophisticated and tasteful in general, with its clean dark lines. There was a small bit of raised floor by the window, along with a table for playing cards and oddly enough, a jukebox. There was also a print of that sun emblem on the wall. It seemed like that thing was everywhere.

As Jonas reached the bar, he saw Felix mixing the drinks in a round glass and greeted him, the brandy soaked part of his brain ordered him to rhyme for no good reason. “Hiya, Felix. I’m back, for more cognac and...your tie is black.”

For a moment Felix looked up to stare at Jonas, unamused, but then swiftly went back to mixing. “There isn't any cognac in this, sir.” Jonas watched intently, though he normally didn't drink stuff that wasn't brandy. A lot went into the glass, but he didn't recognize at all what kind of cocktail it was. Whatever it was, it was colorful, with an intense yellow shade and red sections on the top and bottom. It reminded Jonas of, well, the sun.

“There certainly isn’t, but don’t give away the secret,” Sol said as Felix decorated the rims of the glasses with wheels of a blood orange, a normal orange, and a lemon, each smaller than the next. Sol turned to Jonas and picked up his glass, Jona following suit. “The only way to drink this is down in one. Ready? Eins. Zwei. Drei.” As Jonas started to down his, Sol said “Prost!” rolling the 'r' in a way only a foreigner could, and downed his.

As Jonas finished his, the sharp flavor of the drink hit him, but soon the sweetness hit, tasting almost like honey. It was a bright drink, and a very nice tasting one to boot.

“No, not good enough, Jonas. Not good at all.” Sol teased, both of them putting their glasses down. “In Germany, when we toast, we say ‘Prost’ and look each other in the eyes. Noch zwei, Félix. We’ll try again.”

Jonas chortled at the thought of the next toast and waited eagerly for the next drink. “I’ll do better this time, I promise.”

While Felix started mixing the drinks again, Sol asked, “So, how is your room?” He lifted an ornate cigar box out of his pocket and pulled out a cigar for himself, also offering one to Jonas.

Jonas held up a hand to politely decline. He never smoked. “It’s interestin'.” Jonas tried to answer Sol's question without offending him. He didn't want Sol to know what he actually thought of the décor of the room. No need to upset the man. “I’ve never been in a place so...majestic, I guess.”

At the word 'interesting' Sol twitched an eyebrow, apparently catching on, though he didn't say anything. He just lit his cigar, letting Jonas' words hang in the air for a moment. Without really indicating his mood, Sol simply said, “We Wolfs are very lucky to live here.”

Trying to recover from the faux pas, Jonas assured him. “Well, I feel lucky just being here. I’ve never even been to Germany, and here I am.” He raised his arms and looked around, gesturing at the manor itself.

“Here you are indeed, and it’s our pleasure to have you. Now, try not to fuck it this time,” Jonas bit his tongue to keep himself from giggling madly at Sol's little translation error. Never fucked a drink before in my life, no siree. He thought, shaking with suppressed laughter. Sol continued, ignoring him, “We hit glasses, say ‘Prost!’, look each other in the eye, than drink it. In one go. Ready? Eins. Zwei. Drei.”

“Prost!” They both shouted together, looking each other in the eye, though Jonas couldn't roll his 'r's worth a damn. Still, he couldn't help but smile. Now this, this is fun. Jonas thought to himself as he quickly drank again, though not as quickly as Sol. He didn't usually do this kind of drinking.

Having necked the really quite strong drink, Sol trilled his lips and shook his head, eyes closed. Jonas himself squeezed his eyes shut and took several deep breaths, drowning in the smell of alcohol.

Sol judged his performance, pulling no punches. “Six out of ten. You can do better. Félix?”

Jonas put his glass down, exhaling heavily. “Geez. That’s a heckova drink, there.”

“I did tell you about his talent.” Sol reminded him, blowing his cigar smoke away from them. “Anyway, are you coming to our little party later?”

“Oh, yah. Wouldn’t miss it. ‘Sides, it’d be rude not to.” Jonas straightened his tux a little, feeling a bit embarrassed for wearing it so early before the party.

“Wonderful!” Sol said excitedly, probably translating straight from German. Jonas never really heard anyone just say 'wonderful' like that. He seemed to notice Jonas' discomfort with the tux. “At least you look the part.” With that, Sol reached out and straightened his bow tie for him. Jonas could hear his own heart pounding through his ears as he wondered if lack of personal space was a German thing, or just a Sol thing. Either way, Jonas wasn't complaining, though he could feel his face turning bright red. “We’d hate to miss one of our guests of honor.”

Don't say something stupid don't say something stupid Jonas' thoughts raced crazily in circles through his head. This man's a millionare, don't say something stupid “Y-you’re just sayin’ that, I bet. You've probably had lots of fancier guests of honor around here.” he stuttered a little, but was starting to get a hold of himself again.

“Jonas, I do not pay for a complete stranger to fly across the world, stay in my home, and risk revealing Félix’s godbegotten talent because I do not want them to come to my party. Oh,” Sol noticed that Felix was done with the drinks and picked his up. Jonas, just relieved to be focused on something else, readied his glass as well as Sol started the toast again. “Eins. Zwei. Drei. Prost!”

“Prost!” Jonas toasted along, though he had a lot of trouble getting this one down; some of the drink spilled into his beard. When he was done, he put the glass down again and tried to recover himself. “Hope I can even walk to the ball room later.”

“Ah, Félix, ‘no more then’.” Sol said to the bartender, with something of a wink in his voice, which Jonas understood once he saw Felix loading up the drinks again. “So long as it doesn’t stop you dancing, Jonas, I don’t care if you can’t speak.”

A grin began to form on Sol's face, a not entirely pleasant one, though Jonas didn't see it. He was staring wide-eyed at the drinks forming in the glasses. “Again? Holy smokes…this has gotta be the last one, I swear.”

Sol leaned back, a cloud of smoke emerging from between his teeth, the grin only getting wider. It was as if he smelled blood. The haze from the smoke floated towards the ceiling.

“Would you like something else, sir?” Felix asked.

“Yah, a chance to breathe.” Jonas answered, supporting himself on the bar a little, feeling a little light headed despite that fact the he was sitting down.

“Ah, Félix, I think I’ve already broken him.” Sol said, almost sounding disappointed. He waved his hand in front of Jonas as if he were a paramedic. “You broken, man?”

Jonas sat up straight, not wanting to give up so easily, especially not in front of an incredibly rich and not to mention good-looking man. He tapped the bar, letting Felix know he could carry on. “One more. Then I’m broken.”

“Okay, man,” It sounded strange with that German accent. “Whatever you say...” Sol mumbled a word that sounded suspiciously like 'coward', though the twinkle in his eye let Jonas know that he was just kidding around. “Do you know if the others are coming tonight, by the way?”

“Kim is. I was talkin’ to her earlier. The rest, I dunno.”

“Well, if you see them, tell them that they have to. Guests of honour and all.” Sol went for his own drink, then put his hand on the bar and shook his head, willing himself for another drink. Jonas guessed that even he was pretty tipsy too at this point.

“I will. Least I can do.” Jonas took his own glass again, propping himself up on the bar and met Sol's eyes for the toast again. Through yet another cloud of smoke, he could see Sol's eyebrows raising, as if to ask 'You sure?'. Jonas nodded, wanting to get in at least one more for the road.

“Okay then…” Sol warned playfully, as if this wasn't going to end well. He straightened himself and shifted in his seat, running his hand through his hair and messing it up slightly. Then, he took his glass up with flourish and toasted yet again. “Eins. Zwei. Drei. Prost!”

Jonas, his inhibitions nearly entirely gone, tried pitifully to roll his 'r's again and succeeded in only looking like a complete idiot. “Prrrrrrrost!” He drank it, unsteadily, but he drank it.

When Sol finished, he said, “Getting there. That gets an eight from me. Félix, what do you think?”

“I’d say more of a seven.” Felix deadpanned. Jonas blinked; he didn't expect to hear something from the man that wasn't 'Yes, sir.' or 'Very good, sir.'

“Uugh, stick a fork in me, I'm done.” Jonas moaned a little, closing his eyes again. He heard Sol speaking in German next to him, not really listenening to what Jonas was saying. The stench of the cigar grew fainter as they spoke, Sol's first language sounding much more natural than his English.

“Félix, wie spät ist es?”

“Zwanzig vor, Herr Wolf.”

“Scheiße.” Jonas smirked a little at that last one. He'd heard that word enough in movies to know what it meant. Sol turned back to him, switching to English again. “Hey, man, I have to get changed and ready, so I’ll see you later, yeah? Don’t be late!”

With that, Sol left the room, staggerting slightly and taking willful self elsewhere. Which left Jonas sitting on the bar stool with Felix behind the counter. As he started to feel a little off kilter, Jonas turned to Felix and asked, “Say, what's in these anyhoo?” Jonas could hear his already deep voice getting throatier as the alcohol swam around in his head.

"I am forbidden to tell anybody, 'on pain of death so long as I live'," Felix recited, probably something Sol told him. His eyebrows twitched as he said it, knowing it sounded silly. “Now, if you will excuse me, sir, I have other duties to attend to.” Felix said with a slight bow and strolled stiffly away, not waiting for Jonas to respond.

“Ohm...sure. Have fun with...whatever it is yer doin'...” Jonas slurred, though Felix had already left the bar room. Realizing he was talking to himself, Jonas giggled and attempted to put his feet up on the stool next to him, before giving up and saying out loud, “Nnnope, nope. Bad idea.” and just deciding to stand up. He did so, mostly relying on the bar to hold his weight while he straightened himself. “...geez.” He mumbled, then giggled again.

Jonas headed for the door as well, shuffling as if he was afraid to pick his feet up off the ground. When he cleared the doors into the entrance hall, he saw that it was much busier out in the hall than in was earlier. Both Sol and Felix had disappeared, but there was a small flood of waiters being ordered around by Klara Beck. He guessed that they were setting up for drinks, which would start soon. Not wanting to get in the way or trip over anyone, Jonas decided to head upstairs to his room. He should probably make sure that he and his tuxedo were still clean, or at the very least splash some water on his face.

Near 8:00 pm

Manuevering clumsily through the hall, Jonas reached the staircase leading upstairs and grabbed the railing, steadying himself. He made slow progress up the stairs, blinking excessively all the way up. In front of the landing, there was a door like the one on the ground floor leading to the ball room. As he reached the landing, these doors opened to reveal one of the twins he'd been introduced to earlier, carrying a flute of champagne. As they saw each other, Jonas grinned and waved at her sheepishly. “Hiya, uh...” he paused as he tried to remember her name. “...I forgot which already.”

Lena looked him over, unperturbed. “Lena, ha ha.” It wasn't really a laugh; maybe she was used to it. Either that, or she was distracted. “You're coming from the bar, aren't you?”

“Ummm…..yup.” Jonas blinked, smiling.

“And Sol was there, yeah?” Lena seemed to read his already sluggish mind, pursing her lips. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she said, “He doesn’t waste time, my brother.”

Jonas looked at her, uncomprehending. Why in the heck is she so grouchy? I thought we were having a good time here... Even that thought made him want to laugh again, but he suppressed it as she scrutinized him. A beat of silence followed as he tried to come up with a response. “Well, he uh...he can sure, um…y’know.” His train of thought petered out, and he wasn't sad to see it go. Too much thinking.

“He certainly can.” Lena snipped irritably. After a moment, she relaxed a little and said, “Anyway, I have to get ready. I’ll see you later, Jonas.” She headed to the next floor up, and just as Jonas started walking again, she offered him a parting shot over her shoulder. “I would keep off the yellow stuff if I were you. Most people don’t have Sol’s composition. If you can’t say no to him, you’ll make a dreadful mess.”

“Hokay.” Jonas said, not really listening. He had already written her off as a cold prune. As soon as she was out of ear shot, he blew a raspberry and continued shuffling to his room, singing under his breath, “I'm walkin' on sunshine, wooaaaaah, and don't it feel good...”

Maria stood inside the door for a moment, with Gray hardly noticing the disturbance behind him. She cleared her throat, but still failed to catch Gray’s attention, finally just letting the door swing shut rather noisily. Smiling to himself, Mr. Birch gave a slight nod of his head, inviting his new visitor over to join him at the piano. “Very impressive.” She began, stepping over to stand behind his shoulder, “You don’t mind if I listen in, do you?”

Gray recognized the voice from earlier without needing to turn around, “Why thank you, Miss Wolf, I am truly unworthy of your praise. Please, do join me.” He smiled without breaking stride. “It’s a privilege to play on a work of art like this, I really must thank you for the opportunity.” At that moment, Felix entered the room as well with wine bottle in hand, “Oh, Monsieur Dubois! You have excellent timing! Would you please bring out another glass for Miss Wolf?” As he spoke, he drifted off into a casual set of deep, moody chord changes, now running more or less on autopilot, his concentration finally broken.

“Of course, sir,” With that, Felix set down the bottle on a nearby table and quickly headed off back to the bar in order to fetch another glass.

“Ah, here comes the climax!” Gray exclaimed, seemingly excited by the prospect of discovering his own work. He spoke as if he were not the creator himself, but rather beholden to the instrument, holding his breath in anticipation as his fingers suddenly grew alive, building up to a dark, stormy crescendo. At its peak, Gray slowly transitioned from the height of the harrowing tale’s violent conflict into its soft, woeful denouement with a beautifully timed fermata. Soon Felix returned with the second glass, as Gray slowly faded out, gracefully shifting the pacing to match Felix’s steps as the man crossed the room, and finally striking the last key as the bartender placed the glass down on the table. The note hung lightly in the air and the room gradually fell silent.

Throughout Gray’s performance, Maria had remained silent except to chuckle at Gray’s musical joke, not least because it had made Felix fell quite awkward on his way out the door. Upon his return, just as the piano began matching him, he tried to adapt back, which ended up completely ruining the posture and pace of his gait as he made his way over. It was nice to see that he wasn’t entirely perfect after all. After a short pause to regain his composure, Felix retrieved the corkscrew from his pocket and opened the bottle with a satisfying pop and began pouring the wine. “Will that be all, sir?” Felix asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Yes, thank you Felix,” Maria answered with a polite, yet dismissive air, eager to have the pianist all to herself. She turned back to Gray as Felix handed them both a glass of the rare vintage. “Carry on - please.”

“Mmm… Thank you, Monsieur Dubois.” Gray said, raising the glass to his nose, “You are truly a God amongst men.” He smiled, both in delight with Felix, and amusement with Maria. Bringing the glass to his lips, Gray took his first taste of the wine, savoring it across his palate, “Could there be anything more fine in this world?” He asked, more to the sky than Maria, laying his fingers on the keys as he spoke, “Than a superb vintage, a beautiful instrument, and a lovely young lady to share it with!”

After a dozen or so bars, Maria interrupted, asking, pretty much rhetorically but also with a sense of wonder, “Are you improvising?”

“I am merely playing the song she’s asked me to play,” Gray replied, indicating the piano, “We’re very similar, she and I. Just a pair of old souls, products of a different time; relics of a forgotten age. She knows her place in this world is to feel for those who can no longer… I’m simply showing her how to express those feelings. Music is nothing more than the countless emotions stored in all our hearts, manifested and given shape in this world; and so too, it is nothing less…” Gray trailed off a moment, continuing to play out another few chords of melancholy before shifting back into full swing as he stared out into the sky, the slowly sinking sun casting the last remnants of this day’s light through the window. “But that’s enough of that,” He smiled, “Tell me more about yourself, or how about your family?”

“We’re old souls too,” Maria laughed, simultaneously managing to say something, while also saying nothing. “We’re old Bavarian aristocrats, Mr. Birch: you’re not the only one that’s a product of a different time,” Catching Gray off guard, Maria suddenly switched topics, “Go to the ces here,”

“I’m sorry, I’m not quite familiar with the term.” Gray said, immediately regretting it. She was more clever than he had anticipated, diverting his line of questioning before it even really began. Perhaps the Wolfs were not exactly the open books they had sold themselves as being. He would have to wait a while now, if he wanted to press the issue further without seeming rude.

“Here,” She explained, leaning over and hitting a C-Flat chord, seeming a little confused at the misunderstanding. “What do you think?”

“You mean like this?” He asked, switching into C-Flat major,

“Yeah, then you can go to the- and the- and then-” Maria said, tapping out a progression of chords over his shoulder.

“I see you’re not unfamiliar, yourself!” Gray smiled, “You know, Chopin wrote in this key for his contredanse? Pleyel was his favorite pianomaker, so I suppose it’s only be fitting to take inspiration from him.” Switching to a 6/8ths time signature, Gray completely changed tune to a much more lively sounding dance piece. As he finished up, Gray lightly fingered the C-Flat chord playfully as he reached for his glass with the other hand.

“It’s nice to see a man who can play classical. Sol plays, but he’s dreadful. He says he doesn’t like classical so he doesn’t have to play it but he’s - what’s the word?” Maria complained, pausing for a moment to find the best phrasing possible, “Full of shit?”

“Now that is just a shame.” Gray laughed, “I imagine he must be a very interesting sibling to have. Is he always so excited about everything?”

“Everything,” Maria sighed with mock weariness in her voice: he annoyed her, but she didn’t resent him for it. “He’s our little ray of sunshine. Every breakfast is a party, every swim in the lake is a spiritual awakening. You can probably guess it’s hard to stop him, even when he wants me to sing the fucking Beatles.”

“I’m sure you sing it well.” Gray said, jokingly playing out the opening lines of Blackbird “How long have you been singing?”

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night!” Maria sang, clearly emphasizing her skill by using some incredible vocal fluctuations in transition between notes, open vowels and the like.“Take these broken wings and learn to fly…” Even with her serious take, the excessiveness was clearly intended to be humorous, a dichotomy that Gray enjoyed greatly. He had always been of the opinion that especially when being serious, it is of the utmost importance not to take oneself so seriously.

“You have a lovely voice.” He laughed.

“I took lessons when I was a girl, and, well, you have to do something during the year. It’s not the Summer Solstice every day!”

“Does it get boring around here during the rest of the year? Perhaps that’s why you’ve invited us all up here then?” He joked, “To spice things up a little, for your own entertainment?”

Maria laughed at his suggestion, though its tone was so incredibly ambiguous and neutral that Gray had a hard time figuring out what it meant. He had a vague inkling that she was almost impressed, but whether it was because he was clever, or just simply daring Gray could not tell. However, there was something about the maddeningly long sip of wine she took before answering that suggested he may have been right.

“We like to share the wealth,” She finally said after taking a moment for thought, “Obviously not in any real way like giving our actual money to charity - that would be ridiculous,” She complained, irony then suddenly shifting into a more serious tone, “But we have a rich culture here as a family and also as Bavarians. Most of our guests can’t point to Bavaria on a map. Once a year, we open our doors to a selection of perfect strangers and show them a little bit of our lives,” She said, rather matter of factly, “It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t enjoy each other’s company.”

“But, no, it can be dreadfully dull. We give you a guided tour around the house and heritage of the family, and you do the same for us.” Maria added, despite the fact that Gray had experienced no such thing, at least not yet. In fact, it seemed quite the opposite; the manor was filled with locked doors, and so far he had heard nothing about the family’s history. Even Maria herself had been evasive about the subject.

“Your generosity is impressive.” Gray teased, poking fun at her mention of charity. Though he was beginning to see that it would be difficult to get a straight answer, amidst the Wolf family’s game of smoke and mirrors. “Regardless of the circumstances that have brought us together, I see no reason we shouldn’t enjoy our time together.” He winked, taking a drink of wine for himself.

“Since you’ve brought a bit of class,” The graceful aristocrat remarked, raising her glass, “I expect we will.” Gray followed suit, as the pair locked eyes in the typical German way, and clinked their glasses together. Subsequently remembering the evening’s agenda, she tacked on, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, speaking of enjoying ourselves, are you coming to the ball tonight?”

“And miss my chance to party with Bavaria’s finest?” Gray answered, with an air of mock incredulity. “I only hope you can dance as well as you can sing!”

“I’ll let you be the judge later,” She said, playing back. “You must be a dancer, too? A musical man doesn’t only play the piano.”

“For a man like myself, I’ve found that being a good dancer can open many new doors.” He teased.

“Which doors are they?”

“Doors to places you never expected. Exciting places. Life is full of mystery, you know.”

“I really hope not: I prefer certainty. I don’t like surprises and can’t even keep a secret.” Maria said, smiling as she spoke, knowing full well that nobody in the room believed those words.

“Oh, but a good mystery is what makes this world so fun to explore. After all, what fun is reading an open book? The thrill of turning the page is just so tempting, is it not?”

“Ah, but only because you want to get to the end. Nobody likes the mystery: they like it being solved.”

“As humans, it is in our nature to explore, and to test the boundaries given us by God, is it not? We have been solving mysteries since the dawn of time. We love turning the page, not because we think the answer will be on the next page, but because we take delight in the process of solving. Otherwise, why not skip right to the end?”

“I do! But it’s funny you mention God. God is what happens when mankind can’t find the last page, so write it themselves. We’re intelligent people - we can see that the whole history of God is to explain the world, because not knowing is torture. When science emerged and challenged that certainty, what did we do? We locked up Copernicus, Darwin hid his own research, and some people still think the Earth is flat because they can’t face the mystery of it all.”

“Religion was created as the common man’s Philosophy, in an age when the word was synonymous with science. Even a biologist today can not accurately describe the workings of a quantum particle, but he believes in the common conception, trusting in the work done by those more knowledgeable than he. God is little more than a stand in for complex metaphysical concepts, incomprehensible to the masses. Perhaps the goal of religion was once to increase their knowledge of science, and it was devotion to that science that backfired. But that kind of devotion to perceived truth is nearly universal.” In fact, Gray had written a relatively well regarded paper on the very same topic during his tenure at Columbia University. “Einstein went to his grave denying the principles of quantum mechanics, after all. He thought that he had found the solution, and refused to accept that existence is the process of solving life’s mysteries, and not the solutions themselves. Is that so different from those who cling to God?”

Maria took another large sip of wine, “Not at all.” She admitted, “He couldn’t bear not knowing and so insisted that he did know after all. It’s all the same thing: lying to yourself and denying the world. Enough of lying old men, though - the world has plenty of them. Here I am sat with wine and a beautiful pianist, talking about Einstein and God. Don’t you think that would be a wasted opportunity, if you were me?”

“Oh, it surely is, Miss Wolf. In any case, I fully intend to keep turning the pages of any book placed in front of me.” He replied, taking a drink of wine and placing his hands back the keys. “Fortunately, the one I’m reading now seems quite engaging.” He smiled, deviously. As his fingers began to play once more, the opening of Chopin’s Nocturnes emerged from the beautiful instrument. “But for now, I am content to leave those pages alone, at least long enough to enjoy this one we’re on together.”

When the guests of honour make their way to the entrance hall for pre-ball drinks, they find the previously empty hall now filled with people: while everybody looks basically the same to begin with, their eyes begin to adjust, and they can begin to distinguish the waiters from the new attendees by their sleeves: the waiters are jacketless, wearing white shirts under black waistcoats, while the guests are primarily wearing tuxes. Actually, the attendees are wearing primarily tuxes, aren’t they? They’re interspersed with the odd cocktail dress, but of the perhaps sixty or seventy attendees, the vast majority are male.

Whoever the houseguests were expecting, there doesn’t really seem to be any clue as to who they might be. The obvious guess would be family and friends, but, while it’s conceivable, the attendees seem to be generally solitary figures, walking in on their own or in small groups, and their interactions, in both English and German, are friendly, but formal – they don’t overwhelmingly give off the impression of familiarity in any sense of the word. While keeping more or less to themselves, they do notice the arrival of the Wolf’s houseguests with interest.

The hubbub is amplified by the hall, with a reverberation on every gentile laugh, chinked glass and even particularly loud footsteps. The Wolfs themselves do not currently appear to be present, with the exception of Klara, who, apart from a nod of acknowledgement to the houseguests, is too busy to make conversation: she is working, after all, although her modest, plum-coloured dress and beehive haircut act as an effective camouflage. With powerful, purposeful strides, she checks that the ground-floor rooms are vacant before locking them, and skims through the attendees to the service staff, offering them subtle but deft guidance.

The waiters are, as she warned, German-speaking. As the houseguests enter the fray, they are naturally greeted with silver platters of champagne flutes and fancy, delicious-looking morsels, but any interaction with their bearers is an uncertain dance of guesswork, body language and mutual prediction.

There is a certain excitement, but one that is slightly vicious, and fraught with tension, like a pinched nerve or adrenaline kick. It’s only intensified, and probably deliberately, by periodic stings of a timpani and well-timed brass section as the clock, not that there is one anywhere in sight, creeps slowly closer to the appointed hour. Behind the good manners of high society, it’s fire; it’s a bleeding knife-edge; it’s almost tribal in its intensity.

At five to the hour, the room begins to climax. Without shouting, voices raise and the pressure begins to build. Platters of champagne, now empty, are hastily refilled from the kitchen downstairs, adding a disruptive flow to the room. It’s a pressure cooker. Suddenly, just when the entrance hall is about to burst, the band kicks in. The doors open inwards toward the ballroom, pulled, presumably, by waiters on the other side, giving them the majestic sensation of moving by themselves. It can only be showtime.

Kim had in fact gotten distracted with book after book. She had found a book that she had read in college. She had read the book in English, a translation from the original German, but here she held a German version. Her memory of the work wasn't good enough to be able to try to back translate it, but the few words she did recognize brought back the story. That was as she had been found and reminded that yes she did have somewhere to be. She returned the book to the shelf, just back from the edge, picked up her glass, what was surely mostly water by then, and headed out to join the rest of the party.

For a moment she is a shade overwhelmed by the crowd in front of her. She had never been one for public speaking or large crowds. There was a reason why she had always preferred the quiet stacks of the library, and suddenly she missed the feel and smell of those books. Instead of leaving though she put on a bright smile and joined the party, her heart pounding in her throat.

An offered glass of champagne is exchanged for her water down virgin wine spritzer. Kim sips at it slowly savoring the bubbles and flavor. The palpable tension in the room bothers Kim even more than her own worries. As the music hits her ears she cannot identify it, it is familiar though. Her heart skips a beat when the first violin starts. Her free hand going to her chest, then she smiles, relaxing a moment glancing at the others.

Marceline Chen

8:43 PM

As always, Marceline took her sweet-ass time getting ready for the big event. After Felix had dropped off her bags, she spent a good half hour lounging on the burgundy-colored bean-chair in the corner of her living space, trying to figure out why there was absolutely no reception on her phone. She couldn't understand why this heaven on earth that had everything and anything did not seem to have any connection to the outside world. But she wasn't going to question it too much. She was lucky enough to be here, and it was probably a good thing that she wasn't going to have a chance to bury her nose in the damned thing.

After exploring some more, she found a sound system to connect her phone to. She pressed play on her music, and the sound filled the entirety of the space, even though she couldn't find a single speaker.

How fucking cool.

Marceline unpacked some of her things, like her favorite heels, her makeup, and her toiletries. The rest she would leave to deal with at a later time. She showered and spent forever and a day on her makeup and hair; not because she was fussy, but because she was mainly too busy grooving to the Arctic Monkeys songs keeping her company as she primped.

When she was finished, she had donned on the gown that the Wolfs had left her, figuring there would be other chances to wear the dresses she'd bought along. It was probably the most expensive thing to ever touch her skin, and probably the most gorgeous, too. The gown was long, black, and lacy, with a V-cut running along her back to expose the tattoo of a feline laying just below her neck. In her heels, she stood at a whopping average of 5'6". She had drawn simple cat-eyes to accentuate their almond-shape, and on her lips was a dark, vampy wine-colored red. Her hair was in loose waves, although they looked slightly messy and tousled, as if she'd just gotten out of bed. Oddly enough, it worked for her.

Unsure of what to bring, she fished out a brand new noir clutch from her luggage and packed her lipstick, her room key, a few sticks of gum, a rollerball of her perfume, and her phone (mostly out of habit). And after a last once-over in the body mirror, Marceline strutted out of her room, locking it behind her.

One step was all it took for her to be acutely aware of all the bodies awaiting below. The amplified chatter, laughter, clinking, and footsteps was the soundtrack for her as she descended the stairs into the Hall. She wasn't particularly nervous or anything. In fact, dressing up - especially the way she was now - usually made her feel like hot shit. But of course there was the inevitable sensation of being the new kid on the block, emphasized by the way everyone seemed to pause their own business in order to give her their attention for a minute or two as she landed among them.

Marceline flashed them a polite smile, only betraying her shyness in the way she fidgeted with her hair; pushing it back behind her ears one second and letting it fall down around her face the very next. She was offered a flute of champagne by a passing waiter and took it, grateful for something to occupy her hands as she searched the crowd for the rest of her fellow black sheep.

Immediately she noticed was that it was a male-dominated blob she was currently swimming in. Not that that was a problem for her, as she was well capable of holding her own. Nonetheless, it was strange. Thinking it was best to just wait out the next few minutes before they were probably escorted into the ballroom in her little niche near the stairwell, Marci stayed put, choosing instead to do what she did best and observe them all whilst sipping on the bubbly.

Everything within the room seemed to be building to a climax as the clock neared 9:00, but having kept herself away from interaction, Marceline was sort of just spacing out in her own world as she watched the Germans interact. Before she knew it the large doors into the main space were opened and the rest of the guests spilled into its mouth.

She replaced her empty champagne glass on a waiter's tray and made to follow them all into the party, but was stopped by Klara's hand, which wrapped gently, yet firmly, around her upper arm. "A moment, Ms. Chen," she said ambiguously, flashing her a quick, business-like smile before disappearing again. More than a little confused, Marceline held her clutch with both hands in front of her body as the others flowed around her towards her would-be destination.

Tom Porter

8:09

Tom took one final look in the mirror, nodding to his reflection. Good enough, he thought. The Advil had helped with his headache quite significantly, fortunately enough. A party would’ve been a nightmare with such a hangover. Speaking of which, he should probably get going. Wouldn’t be any good to be late to the very first event of their “vacation,” after all.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Tom was surprised by just how many people were crammed into the entrance hall. Where the hell did the Wolfs come up with so many people? Family, friends?

No, they certainly didn’t act like they knew each other like that. Adding it to his mental list of mysteries on this vacation, Tom came down the stairs, unsure what to do, precisely. Within moments, a waiter came over to him.

“Bitte entschuldigen Sie meine Unterbrechung, mein Herr. Darf ich dein Handy nehmen?“

Umm… what? Right, Tom remembered, Klara said they were hiring extra help. No English.

Noticing his confusion, the waiter held out a large bowl pointedly. It was filled with cell phones. Why in the world would they be collecting cell phones? It’s not like they worked in the manor anyway – Tom had noted earlier that they were too remote in the countryside to have cell service.

The waiter seemed to be getting impatient, but fortunately Klara noticed them and rushed over.

“Excuse me,” Klara apologized to Tom before turning to the waiter, “Er ist Ehrengast, wie Sie hätten wissen sollen,” she scolded hushedly. “Ich dachte, ich habe Ihnen bitten, am Zugang zu bleiben. Los!“

Presumably having been told off, the waiter nodded his apology and scurried away. Klara sighed wearily, before turning again to Tom.

“Sorry about that,” she apologizes again, reining in her agitation. “I’ve got rid of him, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” Tom replied. “What did he want, anyway? What was that bowl about?”

“When the Wolfs throw a party, there is always a,” Klara grasped at the air, as if to pluck the word she was looking for directly out of the air, “Eine Handyschüssel… a phonebowl?” Klara looked to Tom questioningly. When he nodded that the translation made sense, she continued, “They don’t like the guests to just play with their phones all evening instead of dancing. You’ve probably noticed that there’s no reception out here, but there are still inbuilt apps. I’m quite addicted to Trivia Crack myself.”

Tom smirked. For some reason, he just found it odd for any of the staff to be so.. human. But what did he expect them to be? Lemurs?

“Yeah, I did notice the lack of reception, and I guess the phone bowl thing makes sense. It isn’t used in America though, so I had no idea what he expected. I guess it’s kind of obvious now that I think about it, but it’s still… foreign, I guess,” Tom said, trying not to seem overly ignorant to other cultures. Then again, that’s sort of just the American way.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Klara responded with a small smile, “But the kids,” Klara gestured vaguely over her shoulder, towards the stairs, where Tom deduced the Wolfs must be, preparing for a grand entrance, “are eccentric, even among Bavarians. The other guests do know about the phonebowl, though - there’s no reason for it to be anywhere apart from by the door.”

“Yeah,” Tom agreed, “You could say that again. Very eccent–”

Trailing off, it was clear that Klara wasn’t paying attention. She was looking over her shoulder, visibly frustrated. Following her gaze, Tom found the problem: a waiter had an empty tray. Blasphemy.

“Sorry Mr. Porter, apparently men require constant supervision. I expect I’ll see you later.”

Tom nods, and without a second glance, Klara stormed towards the waiter. As she left, Tom could hear the distinct sound of German muttering, although he couldn’t tell what she was saying. Not that he would be able to translate too much of it anyway, even if he could hear it.

After standing in place for a moment, Tom decided he might as well have something to drink, and approached the nearest waiter.

“May I have a drink, please?” he asked the waiter. The waiter responded with a confused stare – he couldn’t understand English, of course.

“Wie kann ich Ihnen dienen, mein Herr?” the waiter asked.

Sighing, Tom decided that playing charades would be the best solution, and mimed drinking from a glass. With sudden understanding, the waiter nodded and handed him a glass of champagne.

“Danke,” Tom said, knowing that much in German, at least.

“Bitte,” the waiter replied, before continuing through the crowd where he was needed. Thank God – ironic coming from Tom, being a devout atheist – the main staff can speak English, because two weeks of that would be a nightmare. Taking a sip from his glass, he examined the crowd, wondering what to do for the next hour or so before the ballroom opens.

“Sorry about this, ladies and gentlemen,” says Klara, whose face betrays a flash of amusement underneath her cool professionalism. The houseguests have been assembled in the once more empty and echoing entrance hall, “Herr Wolf has a certain love of theatrics.”

“Are you talking about me?”

The lord of the manor appears at the top of the staircases, leaning over the balustrade that joins them above the doors to the ballroom and in front of a second set of double-doors completely parallel with those downstairs. If he looked excited upon their arrival, he is positively gushing at this point, grinning so hard that his cheeks must hurt. He has also changed, apparently deciding against any subtlety and opting for full white tie, accentuated by the chic subtlety of two of deep emerald green cocktail dresses joining him on the landing: Lena and Maria, or is it Maria and Lena? They’re utterly indistinguishable so there’s no way to know for sure. Gertrud, in a handsome black dress, can be seen bringing up the rear, though her frailty makes her descent a rickety, slightly sluggish affair.

“By god, you all look incredible,” says Sol, beckoning the guests up the stairs to join him. He looks a little tipsy, but it does nothing but exaggerate his enthusiasm and lending him an extra shine, and, given that a couple of beads of sweat can be seen framing his hairline, literally so, “So glad you all could make it. Now, follow me!”

He puts a finger to his lips in a mischievous bid for silence, and creeps toward the doors behind him before opening them, heading through, and gesturing for the guests and the rest of his family to follow in a similar manner: one of the twins turns to the guests and rolls her eyes in her brother’s direction. They’re on a rounded balcony above the ballroom that circles it completely, and, though the guests haven’t clocked them, the ballroom is finally visible in its full splendour, with its arched ceiling and stone walls. The lighting is all-natural, and deliciously gothic, with torches in wall-brackets and chandeliers with what can only be real candles. The ground is covered with sprung floorboards, polished to within an inch of their lives, so that, looking down from the balcony, the guests can all but see themselves staring back up. The bulk of the floor is uncovered, and it’s perhaps only now that the fairy-tale nature of the ball is dawning on everybody the group: it can only be for dancing. There are, mercifully, a few tastefully-decorated tables toward the entrance of the room, but not many. At the very end of the room, against the rounded wall with beautiful stained-glass windows like a secular European cathedral, is a stage, upon which plays the orchestra and a spiral staircase leading up to their balcony. It becomes apparent where this is going. The ironic grimaces of the twins and the epic struggle of both Klara and even Félix to wrestle mirth from their lips foretells what is to come.

“Klara and Félix know what to do, okay?” says Sol, as he straightens his bow tie in a moment of surprising calm, concentrating his boundless energy in one foot, which taps so violently to the music it threatens to trip him over. As the band crescendos, he suddenly turns tail and dashes along the left side of the balcony to the far end of the ballroom: the audience spots him and begins to laugh. It’s a well-timed spectacle – he reaches the very end of the balcony with a great leap, landing on one final sting from the string section with even a slight flourish with the hands, as if to say ta-daa. Rapturous applause, of course, explodes upwards at him.

“Grüß Gott, grüß Gott, meine Damen und Herren! And welcome, once again, to Wolf Manor!” More applause. The twins and Gertrud also begin to walk along the circular balcony, with a more graceful approach than Sol’s characteristic mania, so as to join him, “To those of you who are new, we say ‘wilkommen’! And to those familiar faces, we say ‘wilkommen’!” Judging by the crowd, the joke is hilarious, and there is a literal ba-dum tish from a percussionist, “Now, as you probably know, this ball is a very important part of Wolf history, and on behalf of my family,” The ladies have just joined him and gather around him. He straightens his face, and they genuinely do look like a nice, normal family, “I’d like to remind you to respect one of our most valued family traditions: drink the fucking champagne!” There is a roar of appreciation.

“Now, apart from drinking us dry, I know you’re here for one main reason – to meet our wonderful guests of honour! Come on over!”

He beckons the group, and Félix and Klara give the nod, directing the girls around the right side of the balcony, and the gentlemen to the left: on their way, Sol bellows each of their names, voice just carried over the ecstatic applause. All in all, there’s something a little bit gameshow about it all, particularly when they finally join the Wolfs at the far end and have nothing to do but stand there awkwardly, though Klara’s theatrical look of sympathetic despair from across the balcony indicates she at least feels their plight. Félix has apparently come down with an acute but silent cough that gives him the convenient opportunity to cover his mouth with his hand and turn away.

“Well, I’m not going to stand up here boring you all night, when my alcohol, my dance floor, and my band are all the way down there! Maestro, if - you - please!”

The band starts up again, with a spritely waltz, as the Wolfs and their guests of honour begin to troop down the spiral staircase. The exception is Gertrud, who steps back: it would take her about half an hour to make it down the stairs. Predictably, Sol leads the pack, practically running down the stairs, with his sisters hot on his heels, for all that they bemoan his hyperactivity. The three of them reach the dance floor in fifteen seconds flat, where one of the twins peels off to a glass of champagne and to mingle: Sol, meanwhile, invites the other to dance with a mockingly formal extension of his hand. Trying not to laugh, she plays along. They are, predictably, excellent dancers, missing no beats: Lena (or is it Maria?) twirls sublimely, while Sol is a surprisingly graceful lead.

The champagne is flowing. The band is swinging. The ball is alive.

Jonas Landvick (& friends)

8:54 pm

Time passed strangely for Jonas, for obvious reasons. As he stood by one of the walls away from the main bulk of the crowd, the other guests seemed to be huge room-sized blob. A blob made of tuxedos and dresses and noise. The atmosphere had been building to a boiling point for some time now, but it went unnoticed by Jonas, who simply stood there bobbing to the music stuck in his head, warm in the face and his limbs tingling all over. There was a nearly drained glass of something in his right hand, but couldn't remember what it was or how it had gotten there. All he knew was that he was having a darn good time.

A familiar face appeared in his field of view, escaping from the colorful blob of people. A woman in a dark green dress, one of the other special guests. When he saw her approaching, he pointed at her with his drink-hand and greeted her. ““Heeeeeey! How’s it goin’....uh...sorry, I think I forgot your name already.” Jonas grinned sheepishly at her, feeling a little silly for not remembering her name.

The young woman was manuevering through the crowd carefully, holding her head high as if to escape from the tall men around her. She had somehow managed to reach him without spilling her flute of champagne, which was full. "Oh, hi!" She laughed a little, her shoulders dropping slightly. "Evelynn, sir. I remember you were one of us who got dragged here...James? Johnson?” Evelynn stared at him intently, trying to recollect his name. "Ah! Jones! Err...Jones?"

“Jon-as.” Jonas answered helpfully, waving the drink in his hand around as he gestured pointlessly. “Like Joan, and...ass. Only less dumb...or maybe it's Joan and us?” Jonas paused in his ridiculous explanation, eyes resting on the crowd for a moment. The outfits and colors seemed to blend together, and all of the movements became blurs. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear haze. “Geez. Lemme tell yah, don’t go crazy on those yellow drinks...y’know, if yah see ‘em.” Jonas blinked again, his eyelids feeling heavy. “...oh, and don’t try to out drink, uhh…” Jonas craned his neck around, trying to find Sol in the room and point him out. He seemed to be gone though, along with most of the family. Giving up, he finished his thought. “...Sol. Don’t go drinkin’ with him.”

"Joan-ass." Lynn repeated the phrase sound for sound and laughed a bit at it. She seemed to be relaxing, at least as far as he could tell. His faculties were slipping away by the minute. "I'll make sure to remember it, Jonas. And huh, yellow drinks..." Her voice trailed for a moment as she cocked her head disbelievingly. Once Jonas mentioned Sol however, she returned her gaze again. "Will keep in mind. Why, did you go drinking with him?" Lynn smirked at him, eyebrows raised. "If he's the reason you're like this, Jonas my boy, I would do well to be very careful...him and those...uh, very dangerous sounding yellow drinks." She sounded like she was joking, maybe even a little sarcastic. Jonas didn't really mind, however. "Nice to meet you more formally though. I...think." Jonas was stuggling to hear her voice now as the noise of the crowd rose over it. She started to ask him, "So, what brings you he-"

“Shall I take that, sir?” Felix suddenly appeared next to them, gesturing to the now empty glass in Jonas' hand.

Shrugging, Jonas handed it over and said, “Pff, sure. Whatever boats yer float.” as Felix took it and strolled away, dissappearing into the crowd again. Jonas watched him go, turned to Evelynn and asked, “He’s French, right? Not German like ever'body else? Here, I mean.”

"Yup, and he's pretty quiet too, isn't he? And speaking of..." Lynn leaned in closer to Jonas, speaking a little quieter and looking a little nervous. "There are way too many German people in this house. Not that we're not in...uh. Germany, land of the Germans, but...I dunno. Anything seem odd to you?"

Jonas squinted at the floor, trying to shut out distractions as he pondered. Memories from his earlier curiosity flooded back to him in a jumbled mess. “Oh, me and Kim found like...fambly history books in the library. But one of ‘em was missin’. The latest one, I think. And uh...my GPS went missin’. Other ‘n that…” He trailed off and shrugged again, losing his balance a little. Jonas then looked around the room, searching for a clock. “I think the ball’s startin’ soon.”

"I see...that's a little odd, about your GPS. I dunno, so many guests here, maybe someone borrowed the book earlier? Probably the old bearded guy, or the other one we hadn't seen a lot of...depends. They might have gotten there earlier. But if that's not the case...spooky." Jonas watched as she finally took the plunge and tried the champagne, shuddering a little at its taste. "I could have sworn this here would have been grand enough, haha...but we're not even in the ballroom yet." Lynn swept her hair behind her ear, fiddling with it as it got caught up in her earring. "At least we're all in this together, right? You seem all right, Jonas." She smirked up at the taller man and nodded. "I look forward to hearing more when we're more alone...and you're more sober, haha."

As the ball room doors opened at the other end of the room, Jonas treated Evelynn to a double thumbs up, affirming everything she had said. As all the other guests piled into the ball room, Jonas went with the tide, carried off in the flow of people.

At the Ball, 9:17pm

Ever since the doors to the ball room opened, Jonas had been in a whirl. Every assault on his senses was dulled, as if he was seeing through a filter. Time passed, he didn't know how much. There were little things he remembered through the whirlpools of color and light. He could vaguely recall stumbling up to the orchestra and requesting Freebird. He remembered trying to tighten his bow tie, and succeeding only in taking it off and losing it. He also remembered a feeling of majesty at seeing the ball room for the first time, but all of that took a back seat. At the moment, Jonas saw their host, Sol, taking a break from dancing. He had been debating about going over to say hello when Jonas' legs made the decision for him, weaving shakily through the crowd and towards the millionaire who had seen fit to invite them all here.

Jonas moved through the crowd, his earlier drinking affecting him more with every step he took, or so it seemed. Everything was warm, and slightly numbing. The floor seemed to shift underneath him as he finally was within earshot of Sol. Jonas spoke to him, the words tumbling out. “Heya, Mr- uh, Sol. You’re havin’ fun, I guess, then.”

“Hey man, you having a good time?” Sol asked, ignoring Jonas' question.

“Well, uh-” Without warning, Sol's arm was on Jonas' shoulders, pushing rather than guiding him to the group of people Sol had apparently just been talking to. It was a small group, but they seemed affluent, social, and fashionable. If Jonas hadn't been so hammered, he'd have been intimidated.

“Everyone, this is Jonas.”

Jonas shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, having some trouble getting his balance back after Sol moved him so suddenly. He offered the group a hip high and shy little wave. “Hiya. Quite a...deal here. Fancy ball.” He grinned at them, though his eyelids felt heavy again. A few of the group hid smirks behind their hands.

Sol then leaned in a bit closer to his friends, and said something in German. Whatever it was, it was apparently very funny, because the other Germans laughed heartily along with Sol. Jonas blinked, confused, before he chuckled a little himself, not wanting to feel left out of the joke. Trying to get Sol's attention, Jonas accidentally poked the man's shoulder while trying to point at him and asked, “How're you doin’? D’you folks party like this all the time?”

Sol grinned at him and poked him right back before patting Jonas' shoulder, as if trying to steady the American himself. “You’re crazy, right? Only twice a year, man: this one, and on on the solstice. How much time do you think it takes to get all these people here?” He spoke in German to his friends again, and again they laughed, snicking at whatever he had said.

Jonas squinted into the middle distance, thinking about it. He wondered why everyone seemed set on making him answer hard questions tonight. “Uhhm...well, if yuh'got other people help you call everybody...I dunno. I guess, a long time bunnot too long?” Suddenly he realized that the question was a hypothetical one; Sol didn't really expect him to guess how much time it took to get people here. Jonas giggled at himself, putting a hand on his face. “Pfffffff, you didn’t really mean- hah! I gotcha.”

Sol closed the small amount of distance between them, resting an arm on his shoulder, as if he was presenting the American to his German friends. Jonas was a good deal taller than Sol, but he still felt small, and not a little passive. Sol spoke in German again to his friends, still laughing. That's when his situation finally dawned on him despite his drunken hopes to the contrary: They were laughing at him. He was the joke. And he was making enough of an ass of himself without Sol's ridicule.

“I think I’m drinkin’ too much...or not enough.” Jonas mumbled, his eyes darting from his own shoes to the floor, wishing a hole leading to anywhere else would open up beneath him.

Sol clapped him on the shoulder, hard. “No, man, you were hilarious earlier!” He spoke in German yet again, though Jonas could barely make out one word. Prost.

Jonas laughed weakly, just trying to make his escape away from these people. This felt far too much like high school for his taste. “Yah, that was fun...but uh, look I’m gonna get some water or somethin’-” He started to pull away from them before the heavy arm of Sol intervened again, pulling him back.

“Hey, hey, I haven’t seen you dance yet! Katrin-” Sol gestured to one of the women in his group. She was lovely, well dressed, and barely suppressing a giggle behind her hand as Sol brought her forward. “hasn’t ever danced with an American before!”

Jonas' eyebrows raised with worry; he was not a dancer, especially not right now. A slow dance was all he could manage at his soberest. “Oh no, I can’t dance. I really really can’t-” Despite his protestations, Sol lightly pushed Jonas in Katrin's direction, who was waiting for him in an open spot in the crowd. She seemed to be doing her utmost not double over from laughter as Jonas stumbled and stood in front of her awkwardly, paralyzed and limp with reluctance and impairment. From behind him, Sol moved Jonas' arms into a closed position appropriate for a waltz and forced the two together.

Unfortunately for Jonas, the waltz was an energetic one. If it had not been up tempo, he might have fared better, but as it was the first spin was enough. The turn was quick, and it turned his world into a watercolor kaleidoscope. The lights in the room blended in with the party-goers surrounding them, melting into a giant smear of color as Jonas' world spun every which way. It was a spin, but it felt more like a round of carnival rides. Jonas predictably lost his footing, though whether his foot became tangled with hers or if his tripped over himself he didn't know. Either way, he tumbled. Jonas was sent careening into another woman who had been dancing, and he soon found himself in a messy heap on the dance floor.

He laid there on the floor like a pile of dirty laundry, staring at the floor. The sound of Sol, Katrin and the others laughing rang in his ears muddily. Sol leaned down and tried to pick Jonas up, but only succeeded in bringing him up halfway before dropping him in another fit of laughter. After being dropped, Jonas' eyes were now facing the ceiling and those standing around him. Sol, Katrin, and the woman he ran into. One of the twins. She glared down at him, her face turning sour. Jonas could hear her talking to Sol as Jonas managed very slowly and carefully to stand himself up.

“Offenbar muss jemand ihn unterrichten,” Lena said, sounding more light-hearted than angry when she spoke to Sol. After Jonas was finally on his feet, she took him into a waltz hold, leading, and danced away from Sol and his friends. When they were far enough away, Lena's glare focused on Jonas again. She was clearly very agitated with him. “Don’t apologize, we’re pretending it didn’t happen. Now we dance until Sol starts on something else, and then you will sober up and I will have a damn cigarette. Understand?”

Jonas sighed, hanging his head miserably as she gently waltzed around the room with him, presumably moving towards an exit. “...yah. Thanks umm...Dena. Or Lena.”

“I warned you about him.” She said, answering his question. It was definitely Lena.

“I know. I shoulda…I’m not usually like this, I'swear.” Jonas mumbled, his voice sounding small.

For a few minutes they danced, slowly so he wouldn't fall again. Lena was helping him, he could tell that she was very close to openly scowling. He couldn't really blame her. Dealing with drunk people was never much fun. Soon though, she had guided him to the door leading out of the ball room and to the entrance hall. Just grateful to be out of the room and away from the crowd, Jonas waited while Lena opened the door to the kitchen. It opened outward, and a hook with a keyring on it was on the other side of the door. She took the keys and closed the door, pretending to make conversation with him just in case anyone was listening.

She unlocked the door to one of the lounges, checking around and inside to make sure no one was near. When she saw that there was no one else, Lena led him Jonas into the lounge and sat him down in the nearest chair, leaving for a moment only to return with a pitcher of water and a glass. “Lock up and put the keys back when you're done.” She said, leaving the keys and the water on a nearby table. With that, she left quickly, closing the door behind her and leaving the grateful but inebriated man in her wake.

“Mmkay.” Jonas said pitifully to the empty room, sinking into the chair.

Evelynn Joshi



8:58PM - Showtime.

Evelynn only got the briefest of chances to interact with a very happy Jonas Landvick before the doors were flung open, and the crowd moved as a single entity into the gaping maw of the ballroom at hand. Lynn was caught in it too, and ducked her head down low. It was frightening and claustrophobic to be part of such a big collective movement, and she almost gasped in relief when finally a familiar voice, in accented English, and a strong hand took her arm. "Miss Joshi." It was undeniably the French bartender, and Lynn strained her ears to hear what followed. "Une minute, if you would please."
He was hard to spot, even with his hand on her arm, because the tux he was in made him a definite part of the crowd. Though his voice was unmistakable. Business as usual, he appeared to forget that she'd rather be called Evelynn. Though she didn't blame him. If it was habit, it was easy to forget someone's preferences, especially if you were already so busy.

Lynn stopped as asked, body huddling closer as the myriad of finely clad men and women, primarily men, primarily German still, drifted by her and filled into the ballroom. Her body was stiff, she was worried something had happened, or she'd done something wrong. Perhaps the Wolfs were offended she didn't come drinking like was asked?
Oh god...

With desperate eyes darting around behind glossy contacts, she managed to find someone in the throng of people that she recognised. Marci.
She had also been stopped at the doorway, and stood there just as Lynn did. She was tempted to inch over and ask what this was about, if Marci knew anything about it. Félix's attention seemed to drift from stopping Lynn though, which would have made it easier to cross the distance. The only constraint happened to be time.

Klara spoke up when the six of them had been carefully filtered out, each in their own finery and standing, quite awkwardly, in the entrance hall.

“Herr Wolf has a certain love of theatrics.”

“Are you talking about me?”

And there they were. The family, at the top of the stairs, dressed to the nines. They all looked wonderful, the redheaded twins in dazzling emerald, and the man of the house sharp as ever. Even Gertrud looked graceful in the dress she wore, and despite her frailty, her looks held up and she seemed quite comely in the dress.
That didn't stop Lynn from cringing just a little, though.
She had hardly enough time to catch her breath before being ushered, yet again, up the stairs and to the double doors. And then they were flung open just as the ones below.

It was like something out of a fairytale.
The room, the decor, the lighting. Everything about the ballroom seemed from a different time, and had Lynn paralysed throughout Sol's little show and dance, and until she was led around the right to the end of the circular balcony. She felt small, and watched, under the hundreds of eyes that gazed up at the houseguests as they walked by. Though the excitement was tangible, it made her hold a little more tightly onto her champagne. She still hadn't drunk any more than just a tiny sip or two, perhaps because it wasn't characteristic of her to overdo the alcohol just anywhere. Persuasion would be easy, though. If it weren't for the lingering words of Jonas in the back of her mind...

And in comparison to Sol, Lena and Maria, Lynn was a little slower down the stairs, careful not to spill the drink. It was filled quite high still, and she didn't want to embarrass herself just yet. Her heart was pounding enough as is, and her cheeks were hot, and her hand gripped tightly onto the clutch. She fiddled, like she usually did.
This would be one hell of a night, and as her heels finally clack-clack-clacked onto the polished floor, she was helpless to do much more than mouth a silent "Help!" to the nearest available face. Surprisingly, her eyes met those of one Thomas Porter, out of all the possible houseguests, for only split seconds before the eager crowd swallowed her up.
And the rest, as they say, was...



There were people everywhere. Evelynn couldn't remember names or faces or comprehend the thousands of questions she was being asked at once. It took all she had to hold herself upright and keep her belongings to herself, and the glass of champagne ever just on the edge of spilling. They asked her name, her history, and everything in between from her favourite drink, to which she had no answer, to her relationship status, to everything else and eventually she got quite frantic. She could have sworn that the guests in the room all had eyes for only her, and the crowd of primarily aryan men of all ages spooked her to the point where slowly, and then all at once, the claustrophobia got to her, and she had to find somewhere to escape. Somewhere to breathe.

She grabbed her purse and slipped through the crowd wide eyed and sweating. The restrictive, delicate nature of the dress made it no easier. People stepped on the tail and jerked her back time and time again and it made her whimper in surprise but she continued ever on. Thankfully, the two most distinguishable things among the sea of black tuxes were the ballroom double doors and the stained windows at the back. She definitely knew which direction she was heading.

She opened the doors with an unceremonious creak and slipped out as soon as she could, hearing them click behind her as she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. It was intimidating. She couldn't see anyone and couldn't understand the mixture of German and English and it felt almost like a nightmare.

Hanging around the side of the doors, she ran her hand with the clutch through her hair. She noticed the drink and the level having dropped. Sigh.
She must have spilled some on her way out.

And all at once, like a dischordant saving grace, came the sounds of a grand piano to her left. It was faint over the sound of the crowd in the ballroom and the instruments playing innocently enough along. Lynn wanted to follow this odd piano. Recording or not, she thought it odd the Wolfs would leave something like this playing in another room. It wasn't any good, even.

She made her way to the grand doorway and carefully pushed past the doors, revealing a new room to her. She took in the lounge. It was definitely cozy, with couches and a burner and the walls adorned with family pictures. If Lynn wasn't spooked, she'd probably have gone "Aww."

Her gaze swept the room before spotting the source of the noise. A grand piano in a corner, in all its glory, and even more oddly, a gentleman hunched over the instrument. She couldn't recognise him before he turned around because the tux looked like every other she'd seen, though when he turned around to spot her at the sound of the door creaking and groaned, Lynn knew for sure who this was.
And even more oddly, he sat with water and a pitcher next to him on the pianist's stool.

“Tell me you didn’t see that...” Jonas Landvick said in a small voice, rubbing his head. It was obvious he was ashamed, but for...

Lynn froze in the doorway for just a handful of seconds at Jonas's pathetic look and, with a heavy sigh, shut the door behind her for some further quiet and walked further into the room, towards the centre, heels clack-clack-clacking against the floor with each step. She was still huffing a little, sweat only just beginning to form on her olive skin. She was afraid with too much exertion, her made up face would come off in horrible squidgy bits.

"See what?" she asked, though moreso rhetorically, "If you meant your...err. Rendition of Beethoven, I most certainly could hear it."
And in that hollow room, with just the two of them there, the joking tone of her voice was evident enough, albeit a little dry, as she sat herself down on one of the sofas and stretched her limbs out. She put the clutch down right beside her. There were firm imprints where she'd been squeezing it all night.
"Why are you all alone here, anyway?"

She felt Jonas's eyes on her, hard too. They were bleary at best, and Lynn couldn't help but feel sorry for the hazy look he gave her. It didn't last too long though before he went to pour himself another glass of water, and then proceeded to rest his head on the side of the piano. He absently poked at the keys which made low deep hums, as he sat on the left where the bass would be. He stared at the keys. He took a sip.
“‘m here cuz...I dunno. Our hosts are jerks. I don’ like ‘em.”

"Aw...and I thought they were nice people too." Lynn put down the glass of champagne she'd been gripping just as hard on an end table just beside the couch she was sitting on, and though it was not still filled to the top, the delicate, shimmering meniscus was pretty high up. Credited to her spilling just a tiny bit in her little brisk walk out of the hell hole filled with people.
She walked over to where Jonas was after a careful moment of hesitation, arms crossed across her chest in a protective self hug. She blinked down at him, "What'd they do to you? The guests...they were the ones that irked me."

Jonas, head still on the piano, blinked up at her, and he appeared almost as if he was trying to decide if he should tell her what happened or not. Sighing, he began again, a series of sentences and words that were once held back now tumbling out, “It’s like...they give us tons of money and fly us over here for no reason an’ then act all nice...and I just decided to start having some fun, and the Sol shows up outta nowhere and…”
He paused, with an intense look of concentration. Was he gauging something? Recollecting something? Lynn didn't know, but he shrugged his shoulders with a bit of a 'screw it' look about them before continuing. “...he’s a looker, okay? ‘m not gonna lie, I liked the guy. So, he shows up an’ decides that he wants somebody to drink with, and we’re sittin’ there, slammin’ down these pretty drinks and I can’t complain, right? I was havin’ a good time. And then he leaves, an’ I leave and that Lena’s all mean about it, and then at the ball I go say hi, an’...and Sol decides that I’m just, like a joke or somethin’. Starts showin’ me off to his dumb friends an’ all, laughin’ at me. And then he tells me to dance with this lady and I fall an’ they all just laugh at me som’more. It ain’t right. It ain’t funny…” and the rest was lost on Lynn as the man trailed off. He appeared distressed, even moreso as a shaky hand reached out for the glass to take another sip before replacing it on the bench with its trusty friend, the pitcher.

"I..." Lynn was dumbfounded, her eyebrows raised at the story, primarily because she didn't expect that of Sol, though she knew Jonas had been drinking with him earlier. He'd mentioned it before, something about Sol being crazy good at holding down his liquor, and some yellow drinks. "So this man gets you drunk just to make fun of you? My, my. I didn't know." Her words were a little wrongly chosen, though she made up for it with actions, spontaneously placing her hand on Jonas' head and ruffling his hair a little. In response, Jonas looked quite grateful for this little moment, managing to smile the teensiest little bit. Success!
Either it was the little she drank at all, but more likely the situation that made her that much more forward with her actions. She even surprised herself. "That wasn't funny at all. Are you hurt? It wasn't too bad a fall, was it?"
Lynn felt her motherly instincts kick in. If someone was having a worse night than her, it was Jonas. She tutted and poured him some more water carefully.

“Nah, I’m okay, I think. If it does hurt, I really can’t feel it.”

Lynn looked relieved at the confirmation of no major wounding, except perhaps to Jonas's pride, and sighed a little, relieved, shaking her head. "That Sol better know, if he really did fly all of us here, the last thing on his mind should be to...humiliate us. Besides. Since I'm presuming this really isn't a battle to the finish, we're all in this together, right?"
She smiled warmly down at Jonas, the free hand wiping the remnants of sweat from her brow. It was clear she seemed in a much better state now, even if it came from self reassurance that she wasn't having it the worst that night. "I'll walk you to your room if you'd like. It's quieter up there."

And on that mention, Jonas grabbed his glass of water and stood up from the stool slowly, “Yah. That sounds good. No more dancin’ for me.” Lynn nodded her confirmation, and the two began to make for the door. Though she couldn't help but notice the man in thought again, brows knit as he mulled over something unbeknownst to Lynn until, “It’s like high school, or somethin’.”

"Haha, with all the jocks, I think you call them, making fun fun of all the weaker kids? I suppose the jocks in this case have a tiny bit of a one up. This whole mansion and their home rules make it an unfair field." a tiny shrug came from her shoulders and she perked up for a second, suddenly remembering something. She briskly walked over and grabbed her clutch from where it was resting against a pillow of the couch, leaving the still glistening champagne on the end table after all, and after a quick moment of thought leaving the pitcher where it sat as well. Joining Jonas as he made it to the door, she idly stared down the walls and pleasantly noticing something that makes her eyebrows quirk.
That picture. Oh my god.

She barely noticed Jonas's reaction to her mention of highschool, or the way his eyes drained and he got lost in some unhappy memory of ages ago. No, Lynn didn't notice that at all. She didn't even notice it at first when he looked back at her and asked her, quickly changing the subject,
“Uh, how ‘bout you? You feelin’ okay?”

She looked a little confused when he asked her out of the blue, though later realised it must have been obvious, even if subtly so. Her hair was a mess, and her make-up probably was too, and she was sweaty and ugh.
"Me? Uh...it...I." There was an awkward, evident fumbling with words. "There were too many people in there. I don't think I've ever even been around so many people. And...and I couldn't find anyone familiar, and they all were asking me so many questions, and it got so claustrophobic, and I couldn't breathe and-"
She wrapped her arms around herself again because the thought was just too vivid and jarring to live out again. "...mm. I'm a little helpless, huh?" she said in a soft whisper, eyes focused on the floor and her sighing to punctuate.

A hand on her shoulder gave her the little gentle nudge she needed to look up, and she met Jonas' concerned eyes before he spoke, “Nah. I guess we all got our little weaknesses.”
There was a pause between the two as he looked over Lynn’s shoulder at what she was eyeing earlier and she could have sworn his eyes doubled in size. And why wouldn't they, if he saw what she whad been eyeing, “...Holy smokes.“ He stared at it for a bit, pointing it out to Lynn too and...giggling?

Bingo.
Lynn was sure it was exactly what she had had just a glimpse of. She followed his finger and for the first time got a better full look of the picture mounted on the wall.
"Oh my god!" her face went all weird as she tried to stifle her own giggles, though it wasn't long till she was actually cupping her mouth and laughing openly enough at it. "Oh my god, that's so cute! I gotta get a picture of that, hold on."
And just as the words left her mouth, she fished for her phone in the clutch and whipped it out, positioning it just right and taking a quick snap of the younger Sol in his glorious lederhosen.
Something clicked after a few moments of thought and her head turned to look over at Jonas again, "I saw a bowl of phones earlier. I didn't think we counted for whatever it was for, since we probably weren't on par with the locals. Besides, why would they need them from us poor unfortunate international citizens? There's no service, anyway..." She was still smirking wide when she looked over at Jonas before the reality of her words sunk in, "Shit. That means no service, period. I'd send it to you if there was any. You got your phone on you?"

“Mmyep.” Jonas, who was still snickering at the picture, pulled the phone out of his pocket only to drop it on the floor. Lynn only just resisted the urge to giggle again. “Oopsie.” He picked it up again, normal as ever. It didn't faze him in the slightest. “Mine don’t work either. I checked.” And on that curious note, the pair left the room, Jonas pulling the door behind him shut before they left the lounge.

Unlocked.

Lynn still fiddled with her phone on the way out, oblivious to what was happening around them. It seemed just too odd to not get service anywhere in the house? Huh.
"Ain't it weird though? We should be getting service somewhere as big as this...it's really weird we aren't." Lynn hung at the bottom of the staircase when they approached it, with a little twitch looking up. She shrugged before actually sitting on the immaculate steps and taking off her heels, shrinking her down to her normal 5'6 when she stood up again. She couldn't help but miss feeling tall around the bearded man, "These are crazy uncomfy, but they're cute. I couldn't resist." She quickly swapped the clutch with her phone safely back inside now to the hand with the heels, using her other hand to hold up the trail of the dress. "Much better, heh."

She could see Jonas peering at the heels, blinking slowly. He seemed...in awe? Lynn couldn't tell. “Glad I’m not a lady. But the phone thing...it’s weird. The whole deal is fishy. The briefcase ‘n all…” Jonas mumbled a bit and rubbed his head again. Thinking almost seemed to hurt. “Ugh. Ten days…”

"It really is. Can't help but wonder why they chose us, huh?" The last few stairs left Lynn panting a little bit, though she was glad to have made it to the top. "Whew. They could have picked anyone and they picked us. I'm almost honoured. Though I feel that Gertrud didn't have a say...I spoke to Marci. You know, the..." Lynn paused, grasping for descriptive words and phrases and words and phrases in general. "Marci. Marceline. The girl with the dangly necklaces and short black hair?" To which Jonas nodded, and Lynn looked relieved for sufficient explanation, "Her. She's real swell, though Gertrud seemed to freak her out as much as me. The old lady is...cold, to say the least."
Evelynn glanced blankly to the side, mentally putting two and two together, the incident of the party guests and Gertrud's own coldness. And then it clicked. Lynn swore under her breath in an almost-growl, "Racist bitch."

Jonas simply stared, wide eyed, “No kiddin’? That’s mess’d up. Betcha the whole fambly are jerks.”

"Betcha you're right." she shrugged it off, though it left a sour taste in her mouth. They turned to reach Jonas' door, where Lynn stuck her tongue out a little "Aw well. Earlier, when you said Sol was good looking...got me wondering. You swing that way?"

And at this, Jonas froze in his tracks, his room keys in hand and in the lock. He pondered a moment, then answered simply, smirking a little in a way that made Lynn flinch for just a second, “Yes ma’m. Thanks for the walk ‘n all.”

"I see." Lynn's eyebrow quirked a little, and after a tiny following pause, she laughed! Not a mocking kind of laugh but an in-on-the-situation-wow-I-was-right kind of laugh. She continued, smirking her own smirk now, "Well, our butler, bartender and resident beefcake is a looker, huh? That Félix? Hot damn." And if it wasn't so late at night, she'd definitely Wolf whistle. Though she spared the house that, instead curtseying to Jonas with one hand holding the edge of her gown again and her voice a playful lilt, "T'was a pleasure, milord. And I got to enjoy your company as well."

Without looking up, she could hear Jonas laugh at the curtsey, and did look up to see him grinning at last.

It made her grin too.

It even made her put on on an obscenely stereotypical British accent for the next bit, with an exaggerated uppity voice to boot, "Will that be all for the evening?"

He pushed open the door to his weirdly decorated room, which he acknowledged with raised eyebrows Lynn later noticed, “I think I got this, thank you, madame.”

"Spleeeendid." she finally straightened herself up and when curiosity got the better of her, peeked into his room with her own eyebrows raised at the sight of it, "Wow. This is...uh, lightyears different from mine..."

She looked over at Jonas for his thoughts, though he was frowning...odd. “Yah...’m not a fan. Yours any better?”

"Mine is...weirdly enough, exactly what I'd dreamed of it to be. I was wondering if everyone had the same decor, but I know now that wasn't the case." Lynn actually stepped into doorway to get a better view, "How curious."

Behind her, she heard Jonas sniff, probably eyeing the room disdainfully “...I don’t even like antlers...not exactly into huntin’...”

"Really? That's so weird. I think Sol personally might actually dislike you." here she nodded, very seriously, though she shrugged it off with a little reassuring smile up at the man, "Oh well. Stay strong, Jonas, stay strong. It's just ten days." and her smile became a smirk in no time.
"And if you swing that way, you could sleep on the couch in mine and I wouldn't have a problem." She offered him a wink. She might actually get along with this Jonas fellow over the course of this little 'vacation'.

And it wasn't a half bad idea. Jonas grinned at her again, throwing her the same thumbs up he did from before they entered the ballroom. Lynn laughed. She was tempted to warn him to 'be careful, everytime he gives her a thumbs up something might end badly!' -but she let it slide. He looked happy, and that was good.
He spoke up again, a laughter in his voice too, "Gotcha. See you later.”

9 pm
Kim Judd

For a moment Kim was confused when Klara stops the group, but she smiled when Klara mentioned Sol's flair for theatrics. Kim was excited to see what the Wolf son had up his sleeve. She didn’t mind playing along with his theatrics, even with the nervous butterflies in her stomach, which made her wish she hadn't drank that glass of champagne.

When she was finally on the dance floor for a brief moment she was at a loss as to what to do, that moment did not last long. A gentleman asked for a dance. She accepted apologizing for her two left feet, but he quite easily picked up her slack. She laughed at one point and said "This is no line dance that's for sure."

"Line dance?" He asked.

"Yeah, for country songs. I guess that is a very American thing to do. All of my school dances growing up were that or some weird hip-hop thing."

"How do you do line dances?"

"Uh I guess it's not that difficult a bunch of people line up and just dance. It's a lot of footwork. I haven't done one in ages." The song ended and another gentleman asked for a dance.

Soon Kim lost count of how many dances she had been in, tired and thirsty she went to find Felix, which wasn’t difficult.

Near him a well built gentleman, who looked much too large for a suit, but filled this one out perfectly, smiled at Kim. "You look like you've been enjoying yourself." He said. Kim couldn't help but see how the smile light up his whole face.

"I am, but it is thirsty work having that much fun. Felix, could I have some water please?" When supplied with the cool drink Kim turned back to the blond man. "Are you not dancing?"

"I haven't had a partner worth dancing with." He said looking a little forlorn. "All of the lovely ladies have been distracted with others."

"Oh." Kim paused, finished her water and said, "Well I am free now." The man's face lit up again with that smile. Kim returned it as he took her hand and led her away from the edge of the room. "I've never been somewhere so amazing."

"Really? You seem to have fallen right into step." He started leading the dance.

"Oh goodness no. I'm just going with the flow. I have no idea what I'm doing. There are not enough cowboy hats and boots for this to be the kind of party I'm used to." Kim laughed as she explained.

"Where are you from?" He asked confused.

"California, from the Central Valley specifically. I mean don't get me wrong there is plenty to do without riding a horse, but the town I grew up in didn't think so. Then my parents moved to Bako and things just got confusing." She kind of shrugged, losing her smile. "I'm sorry I didn't get your name." She changed the subject.

"Wilhelm, but everyone calls me Klein." He smiled. This smile wasn't as bright, but it was still infectious. “What is Bako?”

"Well my name is Kimberly and everyone calls me Kim. I don't see how Klein is short for Wilhelm, but if that's what you want to be called then I shall call you Klein." Kim blinked, "Wow that rambled a bit. Sorry and uh well Bako is a nickname for Bakersfield.”

"Don't apologize for that. You're fine, and yes I like being called Klein." The song ended and Klein led her back toward the edge of the room. "Let's get some fresh air." Klein suggested and the pair went onto the grounds.

11pm

"Can I ask something?" Klein asked.

"Haven't you been all night?" Kim grinned at him. He smiled back at her.

"No I mean I've really enjoyed this time, and I want to remember it and how beautiful you looked." Kim was glad it wasn't well lit where they were. "Do you mind if we take a picture?"

"No I don't mind, as long as you send it to me later." She smiled at him.

"Excellent, now where should we take it?" He asked.

"Oh I know, in the entryway in front of one of the suns." Kim suggested excited.

"Perfect." They walked back inside as a car’s lights illuminated the drive, made their way to a particularly obtuse Sun in the entryway. Klein pulled his phone from his pocket, and took a well framed picture of the two of them with the sun’s rays right behind them.

Klein had just put his phone into his pocket when footsteps drew Kim’s attention to the front door. Mr. Aust was walking in. He was wearing the same suit from when he had picked the group up from the airport. To Kim’s eyes he looked somewhat irritated, as if something had gone wrong since the last time she had seen him.

“Good evening, Ms Judd! Good evening, Herr Baum! Are we enjoying ourselves?” Mr. Aust asked.

Kim smiled at him. “Yes I am, thank you very much.”

“Herr Aust,” Klein nodded to him in greeting. “We were just coming in from getting some fresh air.”

“Of course you were; it must be very warm in there. Excuse us for a moment, Ms Judd.”

Michael led Klein just far enough away that Kim could barely hear what he is saying. “Sie wissen doch was die Regeln sind. Geben Sie‘s mir.” Klein removed his phone from his pocket and handed it over to Mr. Aust. Without a glance back at Kim he heads back into the ballroom.

With Klein suddenly gone without so much as a wave goodbye Kim was left standing in the entryway with Mr. Aust confused and a bit hurt as to what he could have said to Klein to send him off like that and having taken his phone. She turned to Mr. Aust looking more taken aback than anything else.

“Why did you take his phone?” She asked, her voice a bit shaky.

“He’ll get it back, don’t worry!” Mr. Aust tossed the phone up and then catches it deftly. He puts the phone into his breast pocket. *gently throws it into the air, catches it, and puts it in his breast pocket. “The Wolfs don’t like people playing with their phones when they have a party. He should have put it in the bowl - as he knows.” He sounds amused, and Kim felt like he was talking down to her, as if she were a child.

“What did you say to him so he wouldn’t even look at me?” This time as Kim spoke her voice cracked just a little.

“I didn’t mention your name, Ms Judd. It’s all him.” Mr. Aust lit a cigarette, his tone brooked no argument. There was something about that wording that bugged Kim. She knew wording precision could change the meaning of something easily. It was almost Fey like. True, Michael hadn’t said her name, but there were ways talk about people without doing such. She was infuriated with herself for not having spent more time learning German before coming. She just hadn’t had enough time.

“Very well.” Kim turned on her heel and headed up the stairs toward her room. She was done with this evening. A part of her was angry at herself for daring to get close to someone. She had not planned on coming on this trip to meet some guy and fall in love. This trip was to get away from emotional connections like that for a bit. She imagined Zach for a moment and nearly burst into to tears.

Marceline Chen

- 9:00 PM

“Herr Wolf has a certain love of theatrics.”

Of course. Why did it not immediately occur to her that they were probably going to be presented at this party? It was, after all, being thrown in their honor. Duh.

Sol, who looked like he was positively shitting himself with sunshine, beckoned them all up to follow him and the family onto a balcony that encompassed the entire ballroom, which was now fully visible. The place was absolutely breathtaking, as was to be expected from the gorgeous manor. It was obvious right away that a majority of the room was made for dancing; if Marceline glanced over the railing, she could practically see herself in the polished floor while her ears were serenaded by the swing of the band set up on the stage ahead of them. Although the thought of being in the spotlight wasn't the worst thing she could imagine to happen on this wild ride, the grimaces on Klara and Félix's faces didn't exactly soothe her about it.

There was an avalanche of applause and encouragement from the crowd below them as Sol began his show, and before she knew it Klara was ushering her and the other two girls down the right side of the balcony as their host bellowed out their names by way of introduction. When they reconvened with the rest of the family at the other end, there was nothing else to do but smile and chuckle awkwardly at all the attention they were being given. Marceline was not nearly drunk enough to be basking in all of this gratuitous praise, and so kept fiddling with the clasp of her clutch until finally it was time for the guests to follow the Wolfs down onto the floor and out of focus.

Or so she thought. As soon as she stepped foot from the stairs she found herself being swept up by the German guests, who were all suddenly incredibly interested in her and the others. Perhaps they were simply saving their excitement back in the entrance hall?

Regardless, now her cheeks were being assaulted with kisses and her hand was being shaken like it was going out of style. It took all of her charm to maneuver her way out of the crowd to the edge of the room for a few moments, where luckily she found Félix lingering. She immediately asked him to get her two glasses the strongest drinks he could, and when he returned, she gulped down whatever it was that he'd mixed for her and replaced the glass in his hand in one go.

"Thank you very much, good sir," she half sang, half shouted over the music as she wiped the corners of her mouth with her thumb and forefinger, careful not to touch her lipstick, then clapped her other hand on the man's shoulder cheerfully and recomposed herself. "You are amazing," she said appreciatively to him, then more to herself, "Let's do this, baby."

Having not really eaten too much before the ball, the drinks hit her like a slap in the face. Within no time at all she became one of the fish in the sea that was the dance floor, finding herself being traded around from partner to partner and occasionally just grooving along by her lonesome; and even then, she was having a fantastic time. The music was great. The people were great. It was all great.

What would make it even better?
A fucking cigarette, of course!


After having one last drink from Félix, Marceline scampered from the ball and up the stairs to her room, where she had a bit of trouble with the key because she was still bouncing to the music that was floating up from the hall. When she finally did get inside, she grabbed her lighter and a new pack of cigs from her messenger bag before heading back down.

On the way, she passed the other female in their group, whose name she didn't remember at the moment. Though even in her drunken state Marceline took note of how upset she looked as she flew past her up the stairs. She was there and gone too quickly for Marci to get her thoughts together and ask what was wrong, and she was feeling a bit too happy to want to mess with it by going to check what was wrong.

Selfish? Yes. But who wasn't even a little bit when they were intoxicated?

Marci proceeded out of the front doors and onto the grounds, taking out a stick from her pack and lighting up as soon as she cleared the threshold. Immediately she noticed another familiar figure ahead of her, also having a smoke. She took a step forward, her tongue running along the edges of her top row of teeth as she debated on making herself known.

Finally, she moved and spoke at the same time, careful to avoid the small suitcase that sat beside his feet. "Mr. Aust, yeah?"

"Hey," he replied, offering her a light but putting it away upon seeing that she was sorted, "How are you finding it?"

Marceline took a moment to respond, inhaling the smoke and letting it slide out of her mouth steadily as she observed him. He was definitely different from the rest of the company at the manor - much less wound up, in the many variations the phrase had for them. Michael was just sort of there, playing it like a normal human being. It was kind of nice to have a break from the extremes.

"Oh, everything is quite lovely. Quite, quite lovely." She said this in an exaggeratedly English accent, even going so far as to playfully flourish her cigarette in the air in a posh manner before flashing a little smirk. "Where did you disappear off to this afternoon? We didn't even get a chance to say thank you for saving us from the waiting room."

“Oh, I had business in Munich: I had to coordinate this lot here.”

"Mm, I see. Must've been a headache, hm? I'm sure Sol's pretty demanding for that standard of his."

“You can say that again.” Marci chuckled as she blew smoke up towards the sky, a bit surprised at how easy it was to talk to the man who had to arrange such a grandiose event.

She was tapping out her ash onto the ground when Michael spoke again, although he didn't seem to be talking to her. “Evening, princess.”

Marceline turned around to find that one of the Wolf twins (she still wasn't sure on how to tell them apart) was fast approaching them from the entrance hall. “Ja ja, grüß gott." She seemed to be making a beeline for the male, and when she arrived at their little gathering, she held out a hand towards him. “Gib.”

For a moment, Marci thought that Michael wasn't supposed to be smoking and that the twin had come out to confiscate his stick, but quickly realized it wasn't the case when he handed her her own cigarette and lit it for her.

“How are you, Marceline?”

Her eyebrows shot up a little on her forehead at being so directly addressed, and even more so when she realized she had no clue which name to call her. She quickly racked her brain to see if she could find a tell-tale sign as to which sister she was, and when she came up with nothing, settled for being witty.

After exhaling the pull she'd taken to cover up her thought process, she replied with a small, smug smile, "Oh, hello, princess." Her little joke was met with a really dirty chuckle from Michael and a very gentle glare from the woman. "I'm doing well, just needed to step out for a moment. And you?"

“Something like that. And call me Maria. I get enough of that from him.”

Phewf. She had a name.

Her blatant irritability, perhaps slightly soothed by the fact she had a cigarette (because aren’t they wonderful?), told Marceline that she wasn't too hotly.

"Something wrong?"

“Oh, an idiot crashed into me earlier, then I needed a cigarette but couldn’t find one and then I came out and didn’t bring a drink and now the whole evening is ruined.” There was a moment during which Marceline thought she was being completely serious, as she only wanting to be a darling guest and listen to her host's problems, but after watching Maria take ridiculously big puffs on the cigarette as a kind of mime for stress, she realized she was only joking.

“That sounds horrible." Michael deadpanned. Marceline laughed under her breath at his blank response.

"Well, it can only go up from here," she said, "I think the only solution here is to just get even more blasted after this cigarette and I can almost assure you all is not lost."

“Blasted?” Maria repeated, uncertain.

“Volltrunken," Michael answered, translating.

“I have a better idea.” The Wolf sister turned to Michael with her hand out as she reached the end of her cigarette. He automatically dug out his pack and offered it to her. Curious, Marci tapped out her ash again and turned her body to face them both, keeping the hand holding her clutch tucked underneath her other arm. She watched Maria take the whole damn thing and help herself to four sticks, putting them all in her mouth in a row.

Marceline's jaw dropped and Michael looked playfully appalled and affronted as she beckoned for the lighter. He dug that out of his breast pocket and handed it over as well before taking out a cellphone, which he began playing with in his hand. Maria took the lighter and proceeded light each cigarette that was hanging from her mouth, to which Marci responded with a, "No fucking way… You're crazy!"

Laughing in disgust and mostly awe, she watched the other female contort her face into weird shapes so that she could take drags from every stick. It wasn't the first time Marci had seen someone do something like this, but the fact that Maria Wolf, someone who has way more money than she has probably seen in her entire life, was acting a fool in front of her was something priceless.

She disposed of her cigarette on the floor after seeing Maria do it and took another from her pack, deciding not to repeat the Wolf's antics because she only brought like two packs over and didn't want to waste her sticks. She got a light from Maria and after settling into it, eyed the phone that Michael was still bouncing off his palm, rolling his fingers around, and doing tricks with. The sight made her habitually nervous, but also reminded her of a question she'd had. "Oh, I meant to ask, is there no service here? I just want to make sure my phone isn't bugging out because it won't connect to anything."

“Yeah, no, you won’t get anything round here,” Michael answered, still tossing the gadget into the air, “This is all they’re good for.”

Still nervous about the airborne phone, Marci kept her cigarette in her mouth so that at least one hand was free to try and catch it in case it slipped - emphasis on try. "Oh, wow, uh," she mumbled through her cigarette, "Haha, I see… Probably good anyway. I won't be tempted to have my nose glued to the screen."

Then Maria was saying something not remotely decipherable through her cigarettes. Realizing it wasn't working, she removed them all in a row in a very effective ‘v’ grip with her first two fingers and tried again. “That’s not your phone.”

“Would I do this with my own phone? I’m putting it in the bowl for one of our guests who forgot the rules.”

Marceline would have asked what the bowl business was about but Maria cut her thought off. “The bastard,” she commented, though she doesn't appear to be particularly concerned, “I’ll deal with it, anyway. You still have to get changed.”

Michael nodded and handed the cellular device over to his employer. “Thanks, princess.

"Dressed for what? You're already dressed aren't you?" Marci asked absentmindedly as she took another pull from the cigarette and blew it out into the sky again.

“I can’t just wear this. You’ve met Herr Wolf, haven’t you? The guy currently wearing, let me guess, white tie?” Aust joked, to which Maria nodded her head in confirmation.

“Mm, gotcha. Ah, yeah, thanks again for this dress.” Marci lifted her cigarette in a sort of 'cheers' to Maria, thinking that she must have had a hand in picking out the females' dresses. “It’s absolutely gorgeous. And very much to my taste, so… Good job on that. I may just keep it, but you didn’t hear that from me.” A few drunken giggles escaped her.

“You’re very welcome," the Wolf said, giving her a small smile before again taking another drag from her four victims.

“I suppose I ought to go get changed. I’ll see you both later.” Michael dropped the butt and ground it into the floor with his foot before scooping up the suitcase and heading into the manor.

Marci took another last pull from her own and let it fall to the ground as well, exhaling the smoke with a satisfied hum. "I think I'm gonna head back in, too. Getting thirsty. Coming?"

Maria shook her head and flicked her ash away, looking a mixture of silly and sophisticated with the line of cigarettes between her fingers. "I think I'm gonna stay out here for a little bit."

Nodding her head whilst stepping on the lipstick-covered butt with her heel, Marceline pushed her hair back behind her ears. "Alright, well I'll see you in there. It was nice speaking with you." Then flashing a big grin, she languidly made her way back into the party to find Félix for another glass.

Life-Holder (Complete!)

Graven Birch-7:51

Sitting in his usual position, with one leg crossed at a right angle over the knee, and wine glass in hand, Mr. Birch rested comfortably in his room. The empty plate of lamb and grilled caesar romaine long since finished, he had decided to do a bit of light reading to pass the time. Of the books he had brought, Gray had selected his favorite copy of the Bhagavad Gita, which he always read written in the original Sanskrit. Of all the translations he had read, none could quite capture the beauty contained in the original text… “For the senses wander, and when one lets the mind follow them, it carries wisdom away like a windblown ship across the waters.” He read aloud, smiling to himself; no European empiricist could have ever phased such troubling sentiments so gorgeously.

Speaking of great works of art, Gray finished his glass and noticed that he was running low on wine. He’d have to save the rest for the opening of the party, once he’d showered and gotten ready of course, a process which he hadn’t even begun.

Maria and Graven-8:37

When he finally emerged from his room, Gray looked like he could have easily been mistaken for one of the Wolfs instead of a mere guest. He wore an expensive and perfectly tailored, textured grey three-piece suit and tie, betraying his own wealth. In addition he had on several tasteful rings cast in silver and sapphires, as well as an exquisite silver watch. On his sleeves were a pair of silver cufflinks shaped like an ouroboros, the symbol of cyclical existence, a snake eating its own tail. In his hand was his ever-present wineglass, which was once again full with the last of his precious vintage.

Now finally ready to join the party, Mr. Birch looked every part the modern gentleman. Looking down from the top of the stairs, his characteristically soft, southern smile spread graciously across his face as his descent attracted the interest of the crowd below. Unlike most people of the other guests, Gray had been blessed with the ability to carry the room’s attention with comfortable ease. He could spot a few of the other guests mingling about but the mass of wealthy Germans was what concerned him most. Who were these people? Where did they come from? He joined the mob and tried to answer these questions, but for some reason the other partygoers deflected every line of questioning back on to him. Gray would have been more understanding if only they hadn’t been so unapologetic about it, blatantly refusing to answer, unlike Maria’s clever evasions.

Just as he was about to start seriously wondering what the hell was going on with all the secrets around here, the doors to the ballroom finally opened, releasing all the tension building up in the room. Before stepping inside, Gray exchanged his empty glass for flute of champagne, “Stop.” The waiter commanded, though that was clearly the extent of his English, Gray discovered. He managed to figure out that he was supposed to stay behind with the other guests of the manor, and soon enough he found out why. Aptly named, Sol’s theatrics put a smile on Gray’s face; the man certainly lived up to the reputation Maria had described earlier. His outfit too, seemed to match his outgoing nature perfectly, though Gray noted with a deepening smile that he was slightly better dressed than the party’s host in his over the top, archaic formalwear.

Standing beside him, the twins looked absolutely stunning, though they seemed impossible to tell apart in their matching dresses. However, as Sol beckoned the guests to follow him up to the balcony, one of the twins turned and rolled her eyes at Sol. Now, that had to be Maria, Gray noted, though it was little more than an educated guess based on their previous interactions out front and then later at the piano.

After a few songs Gray had already handed off the glass of champagne to one of the waiters and begun working the room. He had taken up a several requests to dance from some of the more confident women in attendance, but soon grew bored with them. It was then that he remembered the twin he suspected to be Maria had taken to dancing with her brother at the beginning of the party. Looking around the ballroom, he soon located the pair dancing across the room. If she was anywhere near as good a dancer as she had intimated, Gray figured Maria would make a much better dance partner than the other stiff-backed Bavarian women.

As the next song finally came to a close, Gray bid farewell to his partner and made his way over to the pair of Wolves. “This is certainly a wonderful party, Herr Wolf.”

“Hey, Graven!” Sol replied, throwing his hands up and stepping in close to where Gray was standing, “Glad you’re enjoying it!”

“I don’t mean to cut in, but I do believe this lovely young lady owes me a dance.” Gray smiled.

“Then you had best ask her,” Sol said, backing away and putting his hands in the air, leaving the rest up to his sister.

As Sol backed away, Gray turned to look Maria in the eye, “Shall we dance?” He asked, extending his hand out to her. “I hope you haven’t forgotten your promise.” He teased.

“Of course not,” she said, taking his hand and drawing him in, “Let’s see what you can do.”

“Excuse me, Herr Wolf, I look forward to speaking with you again later.” Gray said, leading Maria away and back onto the dancefloor. “I am confident you won’t be disappointed.” He smiled, leading with grace and style.

“We’ll see: my brother is full of shit, but he’s a tough act to follow.” Maria replied, raising an eyebrow and flashing a sly grin.

“I’m certain he is.” Gray smiled, “Your other friends, on the other hand, have hardly been able to keep up. I only hope you won’t have the same problem.” His feet spoke for themselves, and his arms communicated body to body, as he led her into a spin and then into an elegant dip.

From there, the two dancers fell straight into a gradually escalating series of challenges, as each partner pushed the other to greater and grander displays of movement. Waltzing, twirling, and three-stepping across the ballroom with a flourish, the pair quickly became the center of much attention. Couples moved aside as they passed through, giving Graven and Maria room to take the room by storm.

Marci and Graven-1:06

The night was starting to wind down, and finally those crazy Germans seemed to have gotten their fill of Gray’s warm, southern baritone, at last giving him the chance to slip outside for a moment of fresh air. Standing silently out on the porch, Mr. Birch stared wistfully out across the manor lawn. As he raised the fine, hand rolled cigarette to his lips, the aging gentleman wondered how long he had left on this earth. Too long, he thought, taking a long drag of smoke deep into his lungs. Everyone had a right to their vices, he supposed, holding the burning ember in front of his face as the smoke escaped his tired lips. Gray was drunk. And not the cute kind of drunk he had been on the plane… No, Gray was utterly wasted this time, but in a practiced, almost disturbingly composed sort of way. People who were drunk were supposed to be vulnerable, but not Graven Birch. It was only when he was sober that his real demons ever showed their faces.

For a while, Gray just stood there, watching delicate tendrils of smoke rising up and dancing off the end of his cigarette. Alternating between drags and drinks, he eventually worked his way down to the filter (of course he rolls filters into his cigarettes, it’s not World War II anymore, folks) and tossed it aside before heading back through the great wooden doors to the manor.

Inside, Gray heard the clacking of heels coming out from the ballroom, accompanied by a cheery exclamation, “Ooh, you!” The voice called out. It was female, and obviously not German, he noted. As he looked up, his suspicions were confirmed, catching sight of one of the young ladies from earlier, “You're one of us. Done with a smoke? Ah I probably shouldn't have another one anyway. Sad the party's all done. Humph. Not done dancing…” She said, rambling on as she made her way over towards Gray, waving her clutch about as she walked.

The hall was mostly deserted by now, giving her words a hollow, lingering echo as they wrapped around the room. “I am indeed,” Gray answered, forcing a tired but genuine smile, “It’s always the best nights that are over too soon, and the worst that never seem to end, isn’t it, Miss..?”

"Marci. Call me Marci." The girl said, adopting a silly pose, with a smile on her face, and a hand beneath her chin. "I never did catch your name, even though you were probably the most memorable from that waiting room. A man who chooses wine over beer is... sometimes good company."

“If you can stand the company of an old antique like me, perhaps! A man with a taste for wine has many stories to tell, and few still left to write.” Gray joked, accepting Marci’s offered hand and bowing slightly, as he raised her hand towards his face in a casual mockery of the old southern gesture, “Graven Birch. But please, just call me Gray. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marci, you’re actually the first of the other guests I’ve gotten the chance to talk to.”

“Oh really? Wonderful. Fantastic. Lovely to meet you, Gray. I like your ink, by the way.” Marci lifted her hand from his to touch Gray’s forearm for a moment before dancing away a little to the stairwell. “I'd like to see them again when I'm not so…” She said, trailing off and letting a silly drunken chuckle finish the sentiment. Pushing her messy hair out of her face, Marci tilted her head towards the stairs, “Going up?”

“You’re far too kind, I’m not used to getting compliments from ladies in such pretty dresses.” Gray teased, “You’re right though, I guess it’s about time to head upstairs.” Turning up his glass, Mr. Birch drained the last of his wine and made his way over to join Marci up the stairs. “Shall we?” He asked, offering his arm to help stabilize a drunk Marci, ever the gentleman.

Marci flashed a flirtatious smile over her shoulder at Gray’s teasing. “Thank you very much.” She said, taking up her skirt a little in one hand and Gray’s arm in the other as they started slowly up the stairs. “So, Gray, you're from the states, yeah? With that accent, you must be. I'm terrible at guessing so I'm asking.”

Gray let out a warm laugh, “All those years in South Carolina always come out whenever I’ve been drinking.” Gray answered, his good mood slowly coming back. “But you’re right, I was born a New Yorker, and raised in that amazing city, though I’ve lived in many other wonderful places in my time, too. You’re American too then, I guess?”

“Yessir. Born in Jersey and raised in New York City. My beloved shithole.” She laughed, leaning against him in the drunken familiar way. “Way different from here, that's for sure. How was the ball for you, anyway?”

“Believe me when I say that I’ve been to countless, equally incredible celebrations all across the world, and I have never seen so much wealth and extravagance in my entire life.” Gray replied, while Marci hummed the melody of the last song that the band played. “And dear Lord, those Germans never quit, do they! I haven’t danced so much in a very long time… How about you? Did you enjoy yourself?”

“You know, I really did. I'm usually a downtown bar type but this luxury and sparkling champagne is really fun, isn't it?” Gray turned towards Marci as she spoke, noticing a sort of confident, alluring sway in her hips as they ascended the stairs. “This dress they gave me is sure as hell more expensive than a weekend tab, too. Did they leave you this?” She asked, tugging gently at his sleeve as she casually rested her head in the crook between his jaw and shoulder.

“This is actually one of mine. I never really checked the closet I guess, but if our beloved hosts threw a tailored Brioni in there then I’d... Ah- well, nevermind all that…” With all the night’s festivities, Gray had almost forgotten this wasn’t another of those God awful art galas he was always having to attend... “Suffice to say, it’s always a treat for me to have the opportunity to enjoy a fine wine, and the company of a lovely young lady like yourself.” He smiled, “Though I must say, I’m terribly excited to explore the manor’s grounds tomorrow, I’ve been told there’s a beautiful lake nearby and I do love to swim.”

Marci lifted her head again and looked excitedly back at Gray, having finally made it up the stairs, “That's incredible, we should all go and explore! I'm sure it's beyond - beyond gorgeous around here. But we should leave a breadcrumb trail so we don't fucking get lost.” She said, laughing at her own seemingly excessive concern. Letting go of his arm, Marci danced away again, throwing her arms up in the air, “No but really, I would be so down for that. Of course, if you don't want company, just be sure to let me know where it is.” Marci added, a smug grin spreading across her lips, “Ah.. Where are you at?”

“Down at the end there.” Gray said, pointing over at his door and pulling the key from his pocket. “I’m assuming you didn’t get the world travellers deluxe suite, too? It’s funny, there’s art in there from all the places I’ve lived.”

“Mm, no, my room is quite minimalistic. Just the way I like it. It's a little weird, if you think about it... How on the nose they've gotten my tastes without having met me before.” Marci replied, a little offhandedly as she opened up her clutch and fished around for her key, “I'm in that room.” She added, pointing to the room on the other end of the hall from his own. “Lynn and I share a balcony, isn't that lucky? Tomorrow morning I will be hungover as all hell but at least I'll have a view. More to draw.” Mumbling to herself, Marci finally found her key and raised it up in triumph.

“Are you an artist?!” Gray asked, “You absolutely must show me some of your work! Are you thinking of making it into a profession? I might be able to help you out if you are, you know.”

“I am! Well, artist in progress. But yeah, I've got a degree in it so I suppose I should be bragging somehow, hm?” Marci played with her key a little nervously, twirling it about in her fingers, “So you're a patron of the arts? That's great, that's really great. I would love your help actually. It gets tiring watching my pieces sit in my living room. I will most definitely show you when I’m good and coherent. Artists always need some type of affirmation.” She joked.

“Quite the patron indeed, I’ve actually been dealing in art for a while now, ever since I moved to Charleston. I’ve got a few galleries there, and one up in Asheville, and though I primarily deal in old, foreign works I do know a lot of dealers who work with contemporary artists that I’d love to get you in touch with.” Gray was obviously very excited about the prospect of meeting another artist, but he eventually reigned himself back in, “Anyways, I don’t want to keep you from what I’m sure will be a splendid rest if you’re tired, I think we’re all a little drunk, to say the least.” He laughed, throwing his head back a little and running his fingers through his hair.

Marci’s happy smile brightened up the late hour, “That sounds fantastic! I would love to see them some time. I've never been down there but hopefully now I'll have a reason to.” She said, her excitement then shifting into playful innocence, “Only a little. But it was really good to meet you, Gray. I'm sure I'll see you in the morrow. You have a wonderful sleep yourself, kind sir.”

The two shook hands goodnight, “Sleep tight.” Graven smiled as Marci danced on back to her room. After a pause, to make sure Marci got inside alright, Gray turned and headed back to his own room, and tossed his jacket down on one of the chairs and kicked his shoes off. Moments later, he was passed out on the bed, eager to make his way into the adventures of tomorrow.

11:20pm
Kim, once she was comfortably in her room, took several deep breaths trying to calm herself down. She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes willing them to not fill with tears. After a few minutes she finally could breathe without it catching. She made for the bathroom, a hot shower was just what the doctor ordered.

It wasn’t a long shower, Kim never took very long ones, that was the Californian in her. Once in her pj’s an old pair of sleeping pants with umbrellas on it, and an overlarge t-shirt borrowed and never returned from Zach. Kim settled into the bed, a memory foam type, with a deep sigh. She was finally relaxing a bit.

Even without cell service Kim could still play music, and read. She plugged the phone in so it wouldn’t die on her. Flicked through her options of music and settled for the band Buster Blue. The paper book she had with her was one she was about two thirds of the way through, an annoying book that was only popular amongst the pretentious crowd.

11:45pm

Kim had barely read a few sentences when there was a tentative hollow knock at her door. For a moment she didn’t think the knock is actually at her door, and then a third one makes it clear someone is indeed knocking at her door.

Slightly startled by the knocking, she dropped her phone onto the bed after turning the screen off. She stood up and put on her slippers while walking over to the door. “Hello?” She asked through it confused.

There was a moment when no one answered and Kim was convinced she had been hearing things. Her heart pounded hoping it wasn’t Klein. "H-hi...I heard music.” A female voice, Kim sighed relieved. “I was wondering if the party had ended already and...since I don't think it has, I was...wondering why someone would still be up here?" The woman’s voice got louder. "Um...Is that Kimberley?"

After shifting uncertain for a second Kim answered, “Yeah it’s me.” Kim opened the door. She wasn’t 100% who was on the other side, but it sounded for sure like one of the others. “Lynn right?” She asked once she had full view of the other woman.

"Yes," Lynn answered enthusiastically, as if she was excited to be recognized. With a heavy release of a held breath she said, "Hey, Kim." Lynn smiled, and relaxed, her shoulders dropping a little. Like when your grandmother leaves the room and you don’t have to sit up straight anymore. Kim noticed that Lynn held her shoes in one hand with her clutch purse. At least someone had a good night. "I...was wondering. Why aren't you down there enjoying the party?"

“I,” Kim started and then, without just a brief pause finished. “I had my fill of partying.” Kim offers Lynn a gentle smile, but it does not reach her eyes.

"And I thought people never got tired of partying." Lynn said with a tilt of her head and a shudder. Kim smiled, that was something she would have thought only a few months ago. "I got out as soon as I could; I couldn't take being surrounded by so many people anymore. It's really...claustrophobic for someone like me, haha. They all wanted to ask me about who knows what and I kinda...freaked out a little. Fortunately, I ran into Jonas, and he cheered me right up." Lynn’s voice dropped, become softer. "Hey. Did something happen to you, too?"

Kim pulled at the oversized shirt, a stray string on a frayed edge. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” She finally responded, without looking Lynn in the eye.

"Out of the ordinary, huh. I wonder what you'd call ordinary, in in a house full of strange rich people who've invited you halfway across the world, or further, just to stay in their house for a day or ten." Lynn said. Kim could tell that she wasn’t going to let it drop too easily. She felt weird talking about it in the doorway like that and was sort of tempted to invite Lynn in, but at the same time that felt like it would make the conversation last longer than she wanted it to. "Something must've happened. I heard the Wolfs weren't all too good to poor Jonas. Did that Sol say something to you too? Or that Lena? Or that...uh. Gertrud?" Lynn didn’t look too pleased to say the old woman’s name. Kim wondered why, she seemed nice enough, just like - Her thought cut off as she realized what Lynn was suggesting.

“Oh no.” Kim’s eyes widened. “No the Wolves haven’t said anything.” She shook her head, then with a hesitant sigh said. “No just a guy at the party. Can’t escape people who lead you on right?” Her voice caught a little, and she pulled at the fraying string again.

"That's good then." Lynn says with a smile, but then her features fall a bit. "A guy at the party, huh? Yeah...I wouldn't trust anyone here, girl. They all seem like they're in cahoots. The only people I think I can even trust are you lot." Lynn shrugged and Kim gave her an agreeing nod. "Besides. I bet you're too good for some German asswipe anyway." Lynn raised her eyebrow and laughed. It’s a nice laugh. Kim smiled, this time a bit reached her eyes. "They're crazy, Germans. In the weirdest way. They're so...well, you can never tell what they're really thinking. That's what I think of all Europeans to a degree." Lynn paused and when she starts to speak again this time she has a fake Italian accent. "Except anybody who-a speaks like-a this."

Kim genuinely laughed. Lynn’s face lights up at Kim’s laugh. “I don’t know that makes me think of the guy from Sweeney Todd.” Kim now felt like maybe she could have an extended conversation with Lynn. “Want to come in for a bit?” She gestures back into the room and the couple of overstuffed armchairs. The ones perfect for sitting and reading in.

"Sweeney Todd, eh? Is that an American movie or TV show? I don't think I've ever seen it. I'll add it to my list for when I get home, without a doubt."

“It’s a musical. The one I’m talking about is a movie though. I never saw the play.” Kim explained.

"Aaaah, okay." Lynn laughed a little, "See! You're not Miss Grump after all. Yeah, screw whoever that was. There's plenty of eyecandy here anyway." She then looked into the room. "Yours is different too, huh? This house gets crazier and crazier. I'm not complaining though. It's quite classy."

“Thank you.” Kim smiled. “I thought it was perfect.”

"And ah! There is hope in the world for us vagabonds." Lynn winked. "Thank you kind madame. I think I'll take you up on that offer." Lynn stood just at the edge of the room for a moment before gliding in. She looked around at the paintings and decor. Finally taking a seat in one of them, careful to not mess up her gown. She put her shoes and clutch on the floor next to the chair.

Kim shut the door behind Lynn and followed her into the room. “Music on or off?” She asked, gesturing to her phone, which was currently playing “Science Sleep Dreams”. Kim picked the phone up, waiting for Lynn to answer.

"Leave it on." Lynn said, waving her hand. "Always nice to have some ambience. It's new music to me, that's for sure." Kim nodded and dropped the phone back on the bed as it switched songs.

“Did you hear about the rule for no phones at the party? I mean no one gets signal here right? At least I don’t, why would they have a rule for no phones?” Kim sat across from Lynn, curling her legs under herself.

"There was a rule for no phones?" Lynn is quiet for a moment, and Kim can almost see the process of thought on her features. "Oh! Thaaat's what that bowl of phones was for! I thought it was some rich people charity donation or something. I'm not poor, don't get me wrong, but I'm not giving my baby to anyone." She dug her phone out and held it to her chest as if it were an actual baby. Kim grinned. "I don't get signal either. Neither does Jonas.” Lynn confirmed Kim’s suspicions. “So that must mean it's a trend. Maybe only local numbers do?" They are both quiet for a moment. Kim trying to figure out how they would keep only certain phones from not working. "Even so, I don't think I've ever gone to a party where they take my phone from me. How odd. Did they want to take yours? You still have it, so I presume you declined."

Kim shook her head, “No Mr. Aust took...” She trailed off for a second before saying. “The guy’s phone.”

"The guy who led you on?" Kim nodded. "I see. Aust, that guy back at the airport? I swear I thought all he did was go pick up people. He's not part of the active house staff. Wonder why he's getting up in people's business. What an ass."

“Yeah I think that’s a good word for him.” Kim laughed.

"Oh,” Lynn sighed dramatically. “You look so comfy in that chair! I'm stuck in this death trap with frills." Lynn shifted, looking ever the more uncomfortable. "How'd this guy lead you on, anyway? Did he just randomly say something, or disappear into the crowd?"

“If you want you can go change. I won’t stop you.” Kim was quiet for a moment. Lynn shook her head, a quick no. “I guess technically he wasn’t leading me on or anything. It’s not like we were really hitting on each other. But after Mr. Aust took his phone he just hurried back into the ballroom. Wouldn’t even look at me. I guess maybe he would have explained if I had gone after him, but between that and Mr. Aust’s comments I was just too angry. That’s why I came up here early.”

"That's so weird." The pair were quite for a few minutes both thinking. Lynn stared at the ceiling and Kim at the frayed end of her shirt. "Just takes his phone and he leaves, huh? What did Aust say? Something like,” Lynn puts on a fake voice again, this time going for a deep voice in an attempt to copy Aust’s sound. “'It's against the rules, blah blah blah'?" Lynn shook her head.

“Pretty much. I asked him what he had told Klein, but he said ‘Just reminded him of the rules.’ Then I asked him why that would have chased him off like that and Aust said, ‘I didn’t say your name’, which just makes me think of something a Fey would say and I had to leave.” She sighed and leaned back in the chair looking a bit defeated.

"How much do you want to bet it had absolutely nothing to do with the 'rules' and more with spending time with you? Was he doing anything with the phone? Maybe Aust was smart, the creep could have been taking pictures of you without your knowledge, haha." Lynn laughed dryly. Kim’s face heated up, turning bright red.

“We took one together. He wasn’t sneaking any, I don’t think.” She pressed her cool fingers on her ears trying to stop the spread of the red.

"Aww...that's real cute." Lynn laughed. "A little picture of you two. Though I don't hesitate to run taking any inappropriate pictures by him. But I don't know the guy. You do, miss." Lynn gave Kim a gentle smile. "Whatever, right? You'll probably never have to see him again after tonight. The only thing you'll have to live with is the things you take home, ten days from now. Everything else is temporary. Hell, I don't even know if I'll ever get to meet any of you ever again after this." Her voice trailing off. "So, Kim. What do you have waiting for you back in the...states, yeah?"

“California,” Kim affirmed. “Not much actually. I just moved so I don’t know many people in the new town.” Kim was struggling a bit for words. “Maybe a job though. I applied for one at this library near the house.” Kim avoided ownership of the house, knowing she’d own it one day, but that meant the worst had happened.. “What about you?” She tried to switch the subject off of her for a bit.

"California? I've always wanted to visit. Never been to the states after all, haha. Is it all beaches like they show off? With weird surfer dudes?" Lynn was smirking.

“Oh god no, thank goodness. I live in the Central Valley, it’s all orchards and vineyards there. The beach is a few hours from me, and the surfing is only good in certain parts, mostly southern California. If you’re up north it’s just too cold for that.”

"Gosh. America's states are all like their own little countries with how diverse they are internally...I come from a pretty small country, so I couldn't even imagine it being any more than a speck on your map." Kim watched Lynn’s eyes drift over to the bed, where the book she had been reading lay. "Librarian, huh? You gotta love to read for that. Got a pretty good head on your shoulders if you're reading that." Kim laughed, stood and picked up the discarded book. She handed the book to Lynn to look at.

“I guess. It’s confusing. I only started reading it because I heard the author was mad at his editor at the time so when he wrote it, on a typewriter, he just dumped the pages on the floor after each one he finished, but he never numbered them. So the editor had to try to put it back into an order that made sense. Needless to say, he did not do a good job.” Kim explained as she settled back into her seat.

"Aloha, temper tantrums. He, the author that is, sounds like a barrel of fun and a half." Lynn started snickering and then it slowly rolled up into a true laugh. Kim couldn’t help but laugh too. "Oh, the poor editor! I can't even imagine what he had to go through. Safe to say, it doesn't make any sense, huh?"

“Nope, but it is still considered a Great American Classic.” Kim rolled her eyes at that. “And of course curiosity got the better of me and I had to read the dang thing, despite my better judgement.” This was a comfortable subject. Books were easy to talk about.

"Great American classics? Probably why I don't even recognise the title. On the Road, hm... I had had a book I read when I was curious as a teenager, though. The Catcher in the Rye? Safe to say, I was depressed for about a week after is finished it. I also didn't, for for the life of me, understand it." Lynn handed the book back to Kim who tossed it unceremoniously back onto the bed.

“Well it helps that you’re not American. Don’t feel bad for not getting it, most people don’t. I don’t.” Kim shrugged. “Where are you from anyway?”

"Haha. That's a funny question." Lynn flipped her hair a bit. "Born in the pearl of the middle eastern gulf, ethnically my folks are from India. Christian and all. Dubai, you've heard of it?” Kim nodded. “It's booming. It's where I call home. The accent probably comes from too much American TV as a kid. Even then, you can tell it isn't...any one place, huh. I'm a special snowflake." Kim laughed and Lynn winked again. Kim got the impression it was a common thing for Lynn to do.

“Well I’ve never been to Dubai. Maybe after this is over we can make a point to visit each other. See even more of the world other than our own back yards and one crazy German family’s.”

"Amen to that, girl." Lynn looked down at her wristwatch, got up arched her back, stretching her limbs out. "I wanna see the whole world someday. There's so much beautiful architecture and culture and art everywhere, and I wanna see it all with these eyes." Lynn picked her stuff up off of the floor. "And I think this is one and enough crazy German family backyards for me, heh."

“I can get behind that, both of those notions actually.” Kim smiled, and stood as well, sensing the time for goodnights.

"It's crazy late, huh. Time got away from me. Thanks for letting me in, hah. I'm glad I got to meet you, and get to know you, Kim."

“No problem. Thank you for talking. It was nice. I’d like to talk more. I mean we do have what nine more days to enjoy each others presence.” Kim offered her hand for Lynn to shake, not sure if the woman was a hugger or not.

"Nine more days, huh? Let's hope they won't fly by." Lynn said as she put her stuff back on the ground. She started with a handshake and then said, "Hey. C'mere, you." She pulled Kim into a hug, one that Kim was appreciative for. Lynn gave her a gentle pat and then the two released each other. "Don't cry anymore over some idiot, eh? Wasn't worth it. If you'd like, I'll break Aust's nose with my heels tomorrow. We good?"

“We’re good, no need to break noses though.” Kim said laughing.

"Aww! So disappointing. But I'm glad we're good, haha. Till tomorrow, eh, Kim?" Lynn picked up her stuff one more time and the two of them walked to the door. "Night, Kimmie."

“Night, Lynn.” She smiled, and shut the door behind Lynn, alone again.

1:15 AM

The ball has been in full swing, but now it’s clearly winding up. The Guests of Honour have to all intents and purposes retreated, though they are, by now, no longer a novelty to the Germans, who have carried on without them. Sol takes the main stage and thanks the band and the attendees, though he is in no great fit state to do so, barely able to stand at this point and, at one point, he literally, to great amusement, hiccoughs halfway through his brief speech. There is, apparently, just one song left, and so, even the guests that have been long since exhausted get up for one last blast; Sol takes an apparently unwilling Klara as thanks for her work that evening; Michael pairs with one of the twins (the other of whom has already made her excuses); while Gertrud is indulged by a patient Félix in a charming, if stiff, foxtrot.

With the last dance over, the band packs down and the attendees begin to disappear, suddenly equals with the band members and the service staff as they vanish into the night like dust in the wind. With the ball now officially over, Michael and Félix leave by the front door, presumably to wherever they each live on the grounds, joined shortly by Klara, who locks the front door behind her. If the shudder of footsteps and German chatter perhaps just audible in the guests’ rooms is anything to go by, the Wolfs are heading upstairs, too.

With the ball over, and everybody turning in, it can only mean a restful night and sweet dreams for all and even Wolf Manor itself somehow manages to appear sleepy, as it bathes in the dark wilderness of the secluded Bavarian valleys.

But not everybody is in bed. And things go bump in the night.

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for... (so we can progress past this fucking ball)

Jonas Landvick
It was morning. Sort of. Jonas was hunched over a small desk in the corner of his room with a few pieces of lines paper scattered on it. The curtains were closed but the lamp was on, since Jonas found artificial light easier on his ebbing headache. Having seen the note on his door, he had decided to spend some time writing a letter to his sister. As he scribbled, his vague memories from last night seemed to come back together, piece by piece.


---

When Jonas saw the dining room, he couldn't help but be a little bit surprised. Bits of older decorations had crept into the design of the room, including a rather long and heavy looking wooden table. There was a separate pantry that led to a dumbwaiter and some rickety looking stairs. Presumably they led into the kitchens. All in all, the room looked like it had seen better days. Even the flower vases seemed misplaced. Jonas stepped further into the dining room with his papers and his pen clutched in his right hand. The room was empty, save for Evelynn, who was sitting at the table and eating some mighty good looking food.

“Hey, Lynn.” He greeted her as he approached the table. “I was just gonna try and get some breakfast, myself. Feels like I’m starvin’.”

Lynn looked up absently, crumbs from her food sprinkled across her lips and a little bit on her right cheek. It was bread, but with some kind of nut in it, maybe almonds. Also on the table was a jar of jam, reddish in color and with a German label. It looked amazingly fresh. It took her a second before she registered his presence, speaking with what must have been a mouthful of food that had yet to be swallowed. "Heya! You should try this bread, oh my god, it is simply delicious." She went back to devouring her breakfast as Jonas neared the table, her eyes glancing at his little bundle of papers. "Whazzat?" Lynn asked in the middle of her feast, the question being barely audible through the chewing noises.

Jonas finally sat down in the seat across from her, not fazed at all by her eating habits. He wasn't the most formal guy, either. As he sat down, he noticed some more of those sun emblems carved into the wood. “I was just writin’ a letter to my sister. Kinda lettin’ her know what’s up. It’s helpin’ me remember stuff from last night.” He put the papers and pen down on the table. “Most of which is pretty blurry.”

"Hm? Well, you met me last night, among other things." Lynn raised an eyebrow then dabbed her lips with an expensive looking napkin, getting some of her muted lipstick on it. "Uh...and I remember you saying that Sol was great at holding his alcohol, and...hm." She put her knife down and dusted off her lap, grabbing her heavy looking tote bag off the floor next to her and putting it on her lap. "And uh...something about some yellow drinks? I remember you getting real sad after the party, too. Oh. There was a party. By the way." She laughed a little bit, joking around. "Maybe remembering that's a tiny bit fuzzy, huh?"

Jonas laughed along with her, though he smiled through the embarrassing memories that were surfacing. He scratched his beard and avoided eye contact, looking around the room. “You got that right. But I do kinda remember all the important stuff...it’s the bits in between that’re lost. Uh, by the way, sorry if I got all weepy last night in the lounge. Not sure what I said, but if I said anything dumb, just forget you ever heard it and pretend like I’m not a dope, okay?”

"Oh, don't worry about it. I was having a pretty crappy night too." Lynn stretched her arms and her legs out, slinging her tote bag over her shoulder and prepared to stand up. She eyed the door over his shoulder and smirked at him. "As much as I would love to sit here and fill you in about just how pathetic we both must have looked last night, I'd rather do it walking. There's so much much to see here. You wanna grab something and come with me? I wanna go see all the beautiful green there is here." She punctuated this with a little twirl. "Besides. A long walk and more Sol in lederhosen is just what you need to recover. Trust me." Lynn winked at him knowingly, to which Jonas answered with a sheepish smile and a wink of his own as he stood up.

Grabbing his papers off the table, he said, “I like the sound of that walk, but lederhosen or no, I think I’ll try to avoid Sol the rest of this trip.” Once he reached the door, he opened it and let Lynn go through first. “I could definitely get back outside again though. I get cooped up pretty easy. More of a outdoors kinda guy, you know?”

"From what you were saying about him, I think that's a good idea." Lynn gave him a warmer smile in understanding when he reached the door, slipping past it fluidly with a grace she most definitely did not have last night. Jonas noted that it was probably her shoes, which had changed from last night's heels to moccasins. "Yeah, it seems like it's been forever since I've smelled the fresh green grass. That one night could've killed me." Lynn shuddered a little as they entered the eerily empty entrance hall together. "I'm not really always an outdoors girl. I hate when I get grass or sand in my clothes, or even bugs everywhere. But I don't get to see green like this often. So it really is a treat!" They paused to look up at the doors leading outside. More sun motifs. They were everywhere, apparently.

“I’m more used to white. And trees. Lotsa trees.” Jonas ignored the sun symbol looming over them and opened the door for her again, stepping after her. “Heck, if my darn GPS hadn’t gone missin’ I’d be creepin’ around that forest right now. So, if you’re not an outside kinda lady, you probably haven’t ever gone geocaching, then?”

"Geo...caching?" Her confusion was natural, even back in Minnesota not everyone was into it. Though her lack of outdoors experience was evident in her choice of hat, which she'd pulled out of her back. It looked like more of a fashion statement than something to keep the sun out of your eyes. "What's that? I...never been around trees either. Try concrete jungles all your life, huh? The city's a killer place." As they wandered around the grounds a bit, they were presented with a worn dirt path. Lynn started following it immediately. "Your GPS went missing, yeah I vaguely remember you saying. Still haven't found it I take?"

“Yeah, it’s too bad. I miss my treasure hunts. That’s pretty much what geocaching is, treasure huntin’. You use a GPS, or your phone or whatever and find hidden caches. I never liked goin’ into cities, they just ain’t my kinda place. Nothin’ fun to do. City people always miss out on the good stuff.” He followed along behind Lynn, stomping along in his hiking boots. He'd worn them with a plan to head outside anyway. “Campin’, skiin’, just slowing down in general.”

"Oh! Who would have thought, huh?" Jonas saw her hold her head high with a little huff. "That sounds delightful. I...yeah, cities aren't fun all the time. Though I grew up there, so it's hard to let go, huh? I've never been skiing...camping maybe once. To the desert. It was an experience I don't think I want to relive." Lynn whimpered dramatically for emphasis. "Oh...oh god. Wait, hey! What's that over there?" In the distance, the lake came into view, looking a bit less intimidating in the daylight hours.

Jonas stepped up next to her and deadpanned, “That’s a lake. Geez, I’ve got some teachin’ to do…”

"I!" Her face flushed a bright red. "I...thank you, Captain Obvious. If it hadn't been for you, I might have thought it was a puddle." Lynn pouted, getting a hold of herself after her little burst of immaturity and sighed exaggeratedly.

They stood in silence for a moment, Jonas' eyes running over the lake. He turned to her hesitantly. “Say Lynn, lemme ask you...didjya hear anything last night? I mean, like after midnight? Any weird noises from the woods, or anything?”

Lynn faced him with her eyebrow raised, curious. "I spent some good time with Kim last night, but I didn't hear anything. I went right to bed after, so..." She shrugged. "Why? Did you?"

Jonas glanced at Lynn reluctantly at first, wondering how he should word it so he didn't sound crazy. Then he told her everything, all of it tumbling out at once. He told her all about how him and Tom saw someone, about them checking it out and hearing that god awful noise. He told her about the cellar, and about how it was locked. When he was finished recounting the tale, he asked her, “I know, it sounds a little nuts, don’t it?”

"Someone, out here, in the dead of night?" Lynn looked at him skeptically. "You sure? It...doesn't seem like something anyone would do...is all." She glanced out at the lake, his words seeming to sink in. "...th-though, what's the worst that could be so close to civilization...right? I...bet it was just the wind or something. Maybe a dog." She shook her head and looked up at him with an odd mixture of belief, disbelief, and curiosity. "It definitely does sound nuts. Tracks, a cellar, if I didn't know any better it'd seem like a Halloween prank."

Jonas squinted at the lake, watching the water move lazily as he thought. “Yah, that weren’t no dog though…” There was a natural path around the lake that he hadn't noticed the night before. He shook his head a bit and brightened up a little, trying not to think about it anymore. “Heck. Whatever it was, it probably won’t show up at the manor, anyways.” With that he began heading towards the lake, assuming that Lynn would as well.

"That's true." She let the matter slide soon enough and sighed, jogging a little to keep up with him. "Oh wow...it's such a pretty lake, too! I...I could just drink it all in forever if I got the chance, ah..."

“Looks nice for fishin’, at least. There's a good lookin' boat house over there.” He pointed at a boat house near the lake, another thing he hadn't seen in the darkness last night. “Don’t suppose you’ve been fishin’, either?” Jonas looked at her out of the corner of his eye, knowing that a city girl like her would probably say no.

"N...no..." Lynn covered her face in he hands with embarrassment, though she was smiling at him through her fingers. "I...fishing isn't something I needed to learn how to do. Don't tell me...right...now?"

Jonas chuckled under his breath, pretty amused by someone who wasn't used to outdoor activities. “I don’t think I need to teach you just yet, but you’re gonna learn eventually. Heck, it’s not even about catchin’ fish half the time. Least, that’s not why I do it.” Without preamble, Jonas sat down on the ground and started writing again, keeping the paper steady on his leg as he scribbled on it. “If any monster bears come tearin’ outta the woods, let me know.” He grinned at her through his beard.

"I'm going to learn, eventually, how to fish in the what, nine days we have left here?" Lynn crossed her arms the now sitting Jonas, though she smirked and eventually laughed a little herself, setting down her tote bag next to her she sat close to his left. She pulled out an A4 sketchpad and flicked through to a fresh new page, skipping past all the paintings in pen and watercolor and squinting at the lake. "I'll count on you if you count on me, though seeing as we're like this, we'll probably get torn to pieces." Evelynn suddenly gasped dramatically, raising the back of her hand to her forehead. "Mein Gott!"

Jonas chuckled and pretended to be scared, before giving up the act because he couldn't speak German. “Mein-...uh, yah. I dunno German.” Curious, he peered over he sketch pad. “You can draw?”

"Did art in highschool way back when. It kinda stuck." Lynn puffed her chest out proudly, evidently happy that someone noticed. “Say..." She reached into her bag for a bumblebee pencil and a tiny sharpener, holding it up to test the fineness of the tip. "If you manage to teach me how to fish, I'll try to teach you how to use watercolor. If we can find any. It used to be a pain but soon became my favorite medium. And then you tell me more about your sister, mm? Deal?"

“Deal.” Jonas said, shaking Evelynn's hand happily.

Kim Judd - Her bedroom - 9AM June, 12th

Kim woke, unlike her compatriots, she had not drank to excess and was therefore at her full capacity. She was only a bit jetlagged, and honestly surprised at that. She rang for breakfast after a longer than normal shower. It still felt like she had more to wash off from the night before. Then she finished the obtuse novel she had introduced Lynn to the night prior, while she had other books to read with her, she was much more curious about the library downstairs. There was so much there, and such mystery surrounding the missing books.

Kim found herself in the library after about eleven am. The books called to her, like sirens of the sea. The book she had been reading the day prior, before having been dragged off to the ball was where she had left it, which was on the shelf in its proper place. With a large glass of water, placed carefully on a coaster Kim curled up in the seat she had taken over the night before. There were sounds of people, but that was easy enough to shut out in place of the book.

The door opened behind her after she was deep in the book, she turned to see that it was Jonas who had entered. He held a small bundle of papers and a pen. Kim wondered if he was drawing or writing. He seemed more the writing type. He looked as if he had not gotten enough sleep. Kim wondered if that was because of the excess of drink he had the night before. He is dressed casually though. “Oh, hiya Kim. This feels like deja vu.”

“Jonas,” She smiled. “I guess it is a bit.” She tilted her head remembering what Lynn had said the night before. “Are you doing okay today?” She tried to sound vague, as if maybe asking about a hangover.

Jonas smirked a bit and walked further into the room, toward the books they had been looking at the day before. “Better than yesterday, that’s for sure. Thanks for askin’. I guess dance parties ain’t for me. How ‘bout you? Did you have any fun last night?”

Kim’s face went a little sour at the memory of the evening, but she let it disappear quickly. “I’ve had more fun, but I have also had less fun.” She shrugged a bit. “The champagne was nice, and the music was beautiful. Honestly though I’d rather be with the books.”

“I hear yah. I miss home already, to be honest.” Jonas reached the shelf they’d been looking at yesterday and started looking through it. “Didjya see if that book came back? I was curious…”

“I checked, it’s still missing. I’m going to go with mysterious reasons as to why it isn’t on the shelf. Those are more interesting.” Kim closed the book and joined Jonas at the shelf.

“Well, I think I’m agreein’ with yah on the mystery theory, considering what happened last night.” Jonas stopped looking through the books and stepped away from the bookcases. “I think somethin’ pretty weird’s goin’ on around here.”

Kim tilted her head, “What happened last night?”

“Lemme ask yah first, didjya hear anything? In the middle of the night, comin’ from outside, maybe?” Jonas’ voice was more hushed now, even though the library was empty* Kim shook her head. Following Jonas’ lead. Her eyes were wide with curiosity burning bright.

“What happened?” She spoke just loud enough for Jonas to hear her.

“Well, me an’ Tom, we were up on the balcony, the one we share. And we’re talkin’ and all of a sudden we see someone sneaking around outside, heading away from the manor and towards the lake. Then we heard ‘em jump in. So, we head down there to check it out, but uh, I wasn’t exactly all there.” Jonas shook his head. “Anyhoo, we get to the lake and there’s nothin’ there, but then we heard this...noise.” He shivered a bit at the thought of it. “I thought howlin’ wolves made me shake in my boots, but this...this was different. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever heard before. We ran back and saw some tracks goin’ from the cellar to the lake, but we couldn’t open it.” Jonas shrugged a bit, almost apologizing for the incredibility of the story. “And that’s pretty much it. I didn’t hear anything else the rest of the night.”

Kim stared at Jonas, not sure if she should believe him or not. A part of her wanted this to be some wild fancy story that she had ended up in. Werewolves in Bavaria. She hid the smirk at the idea not wanting Jonas to think she thought him crazy. “That’s wild.” She said finally coming up with something that was true. Maybe it was a dead body that had been thrown into the lake. She shivered at that thought. She did not really want to be caught up in a Scandal in Bavaria. Legal ramifications would not something she wanted to have to deal with. Imagine trying to explain to the consulate why she was here, and how she had gotten in the middle of some Summer solstice sacrifice... that had a nice ring to it. Kim froze and looked back to Jonas. “Well hopefully that’s just where they throw out the bad wine.”

He chuckled heartily, then sit in one of the chairs. “Those poor, drunk fish.” Set his papers and pen down, but then looked back over to Kim, curiosity creeping into his features. “What do you think they got in store for these ten days? Just parties and dinners? Seems like a lot of planning for nothin’.”

Kim frowned, glanced over at the books, and then took a see across from Jonas. “Well honestly I don’t know what they have planned for us. It seems silly to bring a bunch of Am- Foreigners rather, and drop them in the middle of some rich parties. Most of us don’t fit in with this type of crowd. So why us? All of us are about as different as you can get right?”

Jonas shook his head, not finding an answer* “Right, not a clue. I feel like it was kinda random. But if it’s so random, why waste all the money on strangers? I just don’t get it. Plus, even with all the fanciness and parties an’ all, I don’t exactly feel all that welcome.”

“I can’t say that I do all that much either,” Kim looked at the empty spot on the shelf. “And they are keeping secrets from us. None of speak much German. They talk about stuff right in front of us and we have no idea what they are saying.” Kim’s ears started heating up, and she leaned her head forward, letting loose bits of hair fall over them to cover the red. Lynn was one thing to see her blush, but Jonas was a guy, she didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of him over something as dumb as Klein.

Jonas’ eyes widened a bit. “They did that to you, too? Geez, I thought it was just me.” He sat back in his chair a little, eyes on the floor. “I don’t like Sol. At all. And I’m pretty sure Lena hates me, but I got no idea why. She was givin’ me the stink eye half the night, like I was the only drunk person there.” He raised his eyes again, looking a little unhappy as he talked about them.

“I don’t about the Wolf’s, but I didn’t earn any brownie points with Aust that’s for sure.” Kim’s voice held a bite of bitterness to it. Something she had come used to with the name Zach, but had never had for anyone else. “I haven’t really interacted with any of the Wolfs to be honest.”

“Well, I wouldn’t recommend it, that’s for darn sure. I’m steerin’ clear of those two as much as I can while I’m here. I guess I might as well add Aust to that list while I’m at it.”

“There’s something odd about the way he talks.” Kim paused and glanced around the room, just for good measure. “You know anything about Fey? The Seelie and Unseelie?”

Jonas quirked up an eyebrow. “The who now?”

“Fairies?” Kim explained

“Can’t say that I do.” Jonas leaned forward a bit, seeming both interested and apprehensive of where this is going.

Kim looks a bit deflated for a moment. “All right. Fairies can’t lie, and they can’t break promises and a few other odd rules. The one I’m thinking of right now is the can’t lie thing. Last night when Aust was talking to... Someone in front of me in German. I questioned him afterward about what he said. I asked specifically. ‘What did you say to him so he wouldn’t even look at me?’” The heat from her ears spread. “And he responded ‘I didn’t mention your name, Ms Judd.’ That wasn’t a lie, at all, but very specifically worded. Aust told that guy something and it sent him off quick, and he didn’t say my name. That I can attest, even in a foreign language I’d be able to pick out my name. I think Aust told him something, a key phrase, that meant something to him, or probably anyone who heard it, to do something. Or maybe not do something. I don’t know what. I’m not saying Aust or any of them are Fey, that’s a bit far fetched even for me, but there is something odd going on.”

Jonas seemed to follow her with some interest, despite the oddness of it. Well two can play the crazy game. “That is some odd wording. And he left, just like that? Not even a bye or anything? Geez, this whole thing’s gettin’ weirder and weirder by the second.”

Kim nodded. “I haven’t a clue what to do about it. Except walk to the nearest town and catch a cab to the airport and then get on the next flight back to California. That seems a might infeasible though.”

“Well, I might have something...but…” Jonas looks reluctant, but he really wants to say something.

“But what?” Kim had by this point moved to the edge of her seat quite literally.

He looked Kim over, trying to decide whether he should tell her or keep it to himself. Apparently landing on a decision, he pulled what appeared to be a key out of his pocket. “Lena gave me the keys to the lounge and I lifted this one off the ring. Call me a little vindictive, I guess. The problem is, I got no idea what it goes to.”

Kim’s eyes went wide, her jaw dropping, she reached out for the key. Curious about it. “That’s...Evil, and brilliant. God knows when they’d even notice. I mean it may be for the cabinet with their dear departed Grandfather’s ashes in it for all we know.” Jonas handed it to her.

“I’m not sure, and it probably don’t help that there was, like, twenty other keys on the darn ring.”

Kim looked at the key for a moment before handing it back. “Only one way to find out. Start using it on locks until it opens one.” She got a mischievous look in her eye. “We might need at least Lynn’s help for this.”

Jonas looked at the key again before shoving it back into his pocket. “Sure would be good luck if it were for the cellar door, but my luck ain’t been so great lately. So, did anything else happen at that ball last night? Anything important, anyhow?”

Kim shook her head. “Not that I noticed. Just that stupid phone bowl. Lynn didn’t say anything either. Just that she had run into you and to avoid the Wolfs.” Kim shrugged. “We could try cabinets. Maybe a liquor one, but distracting Felix would probably be impossible.” Kim looked at the door as if expecting Felix to walk in summoned by his name.

Jonas nodded at her last statement. “It’d be really difficult to get that fella away from his work. Seems like we’d have to wait for an opening, or make one ourselves.”

The door clicked open and Kim’s eyes went wide. She turned around to see who had entered. Her cheeks got hot when she realized it was Felix. He didn’t say anything about it instead he asked the pair of them what they would like for Lunch, and how they would like to receive it.

“Uh, I’ll eat in the dining room, and I guess whatever is popular.” She shrugged, unsure and then looked to Jonas so he could respond.

“Dining room for me, too. And I’ll take whatever kinda stew you got.” Jonas looked at Kim worriedly, looking a bit freaked out that Felix came in when he did.

Felix nodded and left them alone. It was after almost a minute of silence that Kim laughed and sighed relieved. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were fey creatures.” She shook her head and then returned to their previous topic. “Hence why I think we need at least one more person helping us.” Kim leaned back a bit. “I don’t know any of the others well enough. Could barely put faces with names. You said you and Tom though had gone out last night to the lake. He’s probably reliable. I don’t want to think there’s a spy amongst us six.” Kim shook her head. “I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m sure the Wolfs aren’t actually planning to ritually sacrifice us, as much as Summer Solstice Sacrifice has a nice ring to it. As such I doubt there’s anything too sinister afoot.”

Jonas relaxed a little. “Y’know, if it weren’t for the whole briefcase thing, I would have felt a bit more at home when we got here. I think our hosts need to learn how to send out normal invitations. Little pop up cards, maybe, or those expensive talkin’ ones.”

Kim smiled. “That briefcase was freaky. Why in the world did I think this trip was a good idea? Mom would kill me if she found out. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here. Not even my best friend. If we do get sacrificed to some god of the sun, no one will even know.”

Jonas shook his head. “Geez, I didn’t really tell anyone either. I guess I was just too curious. Actually,” Jonas held up his handful of papers, which Kim can probably see has a good deal of writing on it “I was in the middle of tellin’ my sister back home in ‘sota.”

“If this is some crazy thing we’re in the middle of, how are you going to mail it without the Wolfs finding out?” Kim asked, she politely didn’t read anything the letter said. “I think that’s part of what terrifies me about there being no cell service. Lynn said she didn’t have any either. So that’s three of us without service. I specifically got out of country for the time we’d be here. There’d be no way we’d all have the same provider.” Kim shook her head. “I think we’re working ourselves up, but we should find out, if we can, what’s in the lake.”

Jonas shifted in his seat a little, though whether it’s from nervousness or excitement it’s hard to tell. “Well, earlier I saw a boathouse near the lake...I guess we could sneak out at night and hide there. As for my letter…” He looked at his papers again somberly. “I have to take the risk. She asked me to.”

“I’ll see if I can help you get the letter out. Maybe write a fake letter to my mom.” Kim shrugs. “That’s an idea. I vote we do it. I do have my swimsuit too, so if I need to take a dive into the lake I don’t have to do it in my birthday suit.”

“Good thing I brought mine too, then. Though I don’t much like the idea of swimmin’ around in lake.” Jonas laughed nervously at the thought of it. “I don’t even know what the return address would be for this letter anyhow. But I’ll figure something out, even if I gotta use a carrier pigeon.”

Kim laughed, “If they even have that here, you might need smoke signals.” Kim’s stomach growled. “You know I think it is close to time for lunch.” She glanced at her watch it was almost noon. “Are you hungry?”

Jonas stood up, taking his letter in progress off the table. “I think I can tolerate some food. Wonder if they got any good stew...without people parts, I mean.” He winked at her.

Kim laughed again. “Yeah, that’s not something I want to taste test.” She shook her head, stood, and started out of the library.

Jonas exited the library with Kim, his stomach growling as well. “Well, heck. I guess I’m hungrier than I thought. Now they’d better have good stew.”

“Goulash.” Kim said the German word with a hint of remembered pleasure. “Hopefully not rabbit though.” She frowned. “There is this German restaurant down near Disneyland, it is amazing. Some college friends introduced me one year, convinced me to have the goulash and it was rabbit. I got sad, and only ate about three bites of it.”

When they reached the doors to the dining room, Jonas held one of them open for Kim, letting her pass through first before saying. “Aw, geez. Couldn’t eat the bunnies, huh? Can’t say’s I blame yah. Well, if their stew is anywhere near as good as my grandma’s lapskaus, then I’ll be happy.”

“I don’t know what it is about rabbit. I can eat anything else. Except monkey brains, well brains in general. That’s just a bad idea.” She shrugs. “What is Lapskaus?”

“Oh, the word just means ‘stew’ in Norwegian, and that’s pretty much what it is. Every family’s got their own recipe, though, and my grandma’s was the best. She tried to teach me the language, but I never really could get the hang of it.” Jonas smiled a bit at the memories, reminiscing fondly.

“Ah I grew up around Portuguese primarily, but I only know English and some ASL.” Kim explained. She sat down at the table where the food Felix had laid out for them.

Jonas sat down as well, across from Kim and looked pleasantly surprised. “No kiddin’? You know ASL too? I learned it for my sister.”

Kim smiled brightly. “Oh! I know it because my best friend’s daughter is deaf. She’s a doll. Only seven though, so my sign isn’t that great.”

“Still, good on yah. Heck, my mom never even bothered.” Kim frowned at that. It hurt her when she heard of parents who didn’t care to learn, and was thankful that Esther had taken a class when she first found out. “Hang on a sec. D’you think that’ll come in handy? Y’know, just in case we don’t want those Wolfs knowin’ what we’re sayin’?”

Kim grinned. “That’s brilliant. You’ll have to slow for me though. Shoot I tell a seven year old to slow down. I’m best at fingerspelling. I doubt any of the others know ASL though. Lynn for sure not. She’s not American.”

“Well, that’s lucky for us, then. Might come in handy.” Jonas started eating the stew, and made a ‘It’s pretty good!’ face, like he’d been expecting it to taste bad for some reason.

Kim nods and eats her own food in silence for a bit thinking. “So you’re from Minnesota?” She finally asks.

“Oh, yah. Minnesota. You betcha.” Jonas exaggerated his own accent for a moment, fully acknowledging that he somewhat fit the stereotype.

Kim laughed. “Oh man. Did you step out of Fargo? Well I’m no stereotype myself. I’m too much of a mash of things. Went to a school in the middle of nowhere that had never heard of any sort of decent music. Went to college not far from home, but spent so much time just doing weird things that at this point I am just Kim the Librarian.” She gets a bit of a wistful smile on her face. “Sadly not The Librarian though.”

Jonas leaned back after inhaling half of his food and put his hands together. “My school was kinda crap, too, but I did get to play some football. Not a lot though, ‘cause I didn’t stay on the team for too long. I dunno how I ended up at my job, I just...did. I still spend lotsa time outside, though. Fishin’, campin’, and plenty of skiin’...standard with bein’ a guy straight outta the movies.” He added that last part with a wink. Lots of winkers in this group of people.

Kim snorted. “I don’t go outside much, but I love hiking in Yosemite when I get a chance. Otherwise I tend to be cooped up inside with the books. I should get some fresh air this trip though.” Kim looked out a window at the beautiful scenery. “If I had a balcony I’d read on it.”

Jonas looked up from his food, which he had gone back to devouring. “You don’t gotta balcony? That’s a darn shame. I’d offer mine, but it’s Tom’s too.”

“Thank you. That’d be kind of weird though. I don’t think I’ve shared a whole sentence with Tom.” Kim finished off the last of her lunch, stood and stretched. “On the note of books. I think I’ll go back to the Library. I’m almost done with that book I was reading. Are you going to join me back there for plotting? Or shall we plot more later?”

“I guess later, then. I’ll probably finish up my letter and...I dunno, head outside again I guess. I’ll seeya later, then, Kim.” Jonas and her parted ways. Kim returning to the library.

Marceline Chen

- 11:40 AM

A hand flopped over the edge of the queen-sized bed, interrupting the sunlight flowing in from the bedroom window to create a shadow on the white wooden floor. Accompanying the movement was a muffled groan, escaping from the mouth of one Marceline Chen, whose face was buried in the dark sheets of her pillows. Thank goodness they were dark - otherwise they would have shown a Jackson Pollock of last night's makeup and lipstick.

She hadn't been in her room more than ten minutes after leaving Graven before she half crawled/half sank into the mattress, only having enough stamina to remove her dress and heels. And thus she lay, practically naked except for the sheets tangled around her body.

After a long and well-fought internal battle, she was finally able to heave herself up and into a shower, throw on a simple white t-shirt, a black pair of sweatpants, and a hoodie splattered with different colored paint, and shuffle out of the room in search of sustenance.

She did notice the note left on her door by (supposedly) Sol, and there was a brief moment of "Fuck, I could have stayed in bed for breakfast" before she reasoned with herself. She was already dressed and ready to venture out. Might as well.

- 12:57 PM

Downstairs in the Entrance Hall, she padded her way toward what looked like the dining room; but before entering, the room ahead of her caught her eye. A few more steps forward told her it was a library, and since Marceline wasn't sure if anyone would be keeping her company for breakfast, she figured she should stop and pick something out for her self.

She wandered in and turned straight towards the shelves, instantly caught up in the sheer number of spines in the one room. The bindings were all beautiful in their own way, and with her fingertips she gently made contact with every one of them before stopping at one at random and sliding it out of place. Opening it carefully and slowly sifting through the pages, Marci felt a sense of excitement at the chance to explore the kind of literature the Wolfs possessed.

But before she could get much further than the first couple of pages -

“Marci, right?”

The sound caused a very jumpy Marceline to yelp loudly ("Shit!") and whip around, the book nearly flying out of her hands as her breathing speed multiplied to about a hundred and her panicked eyes flew around the room to find the culprit.

She was seated in one of the chairs, book already in hand, watching Marci make a fool of herself.

"Oh my god…" Embarrassed, but mostly recognizing that spinning around that quickly wasn't in agreement with her hangover, the young woman lifted a hand to cover her face. After a moment to recompose, Marci chuckled weakly and rubbed an eye with the side of her hand. "I didn't see you, hah… Sorry that was… Loud… Uh… Hey, hah. Yeah, Marci." She nodded in confirmation, which bought her enough time to grasp for the female's name. Obviously it wasn't Lynn, so she had to be the other one. The one she saw running up the stairs last night. "And you're… Kim, right?"

Kim nodded. “Yeah, pleasure to finally meet you. I mean I guess we have already met, but that didn’t feel real." She shrugged as Marceline found a chair somewhere near her and plopped herself down into it, still holding the book she'd picked out.

"Pleasure to finally meet you too," Marci replied, flashing a warm, sheepish smile as she put the book down in the chair beside her and began to rub her temples, "Sorry, my head isn’t all here this morning." Then, in a lower, almost mumbled volume, "Had a little too much fun last night…"

“No worries. I’m glad I avoided that. I only had a bit of champagne. I didn’t want to be rude.” Kim shrugged again, and though Marci's more sensitive side wanted to ask what she meant by not wanting to be rude, she ignored the impulse. “How was your evening last night?”

"Hah, well, didn’t wanna put their efforts to waste, I suppose." Marci scratched her head, an eyebrow twitching upwards at the emphasis placed on the pronoun. "My evening was pretty great, I think. Lots of dancing, lots of free drinks. I consider that a success." It took a moment for her to understand that the accentuation was probably put there to imply that she hadn't had so wonderful an evening. And judging by the fact that her only memory of Kim was of the girl running up the stairs, it wasn't such a bad conclusion. "Ah…" Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, she pressed on politely. "And how was your evening?"

“I’ve had better.” Kim shrugged. She sure did shrug a lot. “So I have to ask, because Jonas seemed bugged by it, but I didn’t actually hear it. Did you hear anything late last night coming from the direction of the lake?”

Marci brought her feet up onto the chair so that her knees were resting by her chest and shook her head, perhaps looking a bit overly curious because she was grateful for the subject change. "Umm. No, I don’t think I did. I mean, I was pretty much always in the ballroom so I couldn’t really hear anything aside from the band. And when I got to my room I practically passed out… So no, I didn’t. Why, what did he say about it?"

“Well he or Tom would probably be a better choice to tell the story. But they saw something get dragged out by the lake, heard a huge splash, and then something howling, but it wasn’t any wolf. I didn’t hear myself, like I said, but it has him a bit spooked.”

Marceline's face contorted into a comically skeptical expression. "Really? That’s weird… Wouldn't this just be a Scooby-Doo episode if there was a lake monster?" She chuckled at her own stupid little comparison. "Hopefully I run into one of them today so I can ask them about it. I haven’t really spoken to either of them yet, so that should be a good conversation starter. I wonder what it could’ve been though… Have you seen the lake yet?"

“No I haven’t. I’m thinking of going either today, or if we’re having a free day again tomorrow. I just got so distracted with the books," Kim held up the book she was currently reading, “That I forgot there was even an out of doors to visit. Have you been out to it?”

"Mm, no, not yet. I’ll probably go check it out later, when I’m all sorted. Gray - Graven, the older man in our group - told me he’s heard it’s beautiful, so I might try and catch it during sunset or something." Marci grinned at the thought, before rubbing her temples again and nodding at the book in her hand. "What’re you reading?"

“It’s a poetry collection by Eva Strittmatter.” Kim offered the book over and she took it, skimming through the pages. “It has the German translation next to the English.”

"Mm. Very cool… I suppose they wouldn't be upset if we took some books out," she commented as she handed the book back. "You like poetry then?"

“I like reading in general. I’m a librarian, well I’m between jobs right now, but that’s what my degree is in.” She took the book back and set it next to her on the end table. “What about you, what do you do?”

"Cool. Bet this place is your favorite about the trip so far, huh?" Marceline smiled, glancing around at the entirety of the library before answering. "Oh, I’ve got a degree in fine arts, with a focus on photography. Basically a multi-media artist. I like creating and all that." This time she was the one to shrug. She was always so damn modest when it came to self-promotion. "Where are you from, anyway?"

“I do love this place," Kim confirmed, smiling back. “Wow you’re well learned then. I’m from California. The part where all the veggies and fruits come from, not the beach.”

"Haha, do you get that a lot? The bit about you and California and the beach?" Chuckling at the thought, Marci rolled her eyes at how unfortunately true it probably was. "I've never been, but one day I hope to visit. I'm sure there are places more beautiful than the shore there, yeah?"

“Yeah. I do. I recommend Yosemite. It’s absolutely beautiful there. I was telling Lynn she should visit sometime, after this is over. You could come too. It’d be some weird reunion.”

Marceline chuckled softly and pushed her short hair back behind her ears. "That sounds great, I'd be down. I live in New York, so it should be a big contrast, I'm sure. Ever been?"

“Once. For a friend’s wedding a few years ago.” Kim looked down at her hands, seemingly turned off by the question.

Noticing the strange energy, Marci opened her mouth to change the subject. Quite musically her stomach rumbled to interrupt her. Well, that was lucky. And gross. With a self-conscious laugh, she patted her midsection, as if to shush it. "Ah, did you eat yet? Apparently, I'm starving."

“Yeah I did. The stew is good, and not rabbit.” The woman gave half a smile.

Groaning and jokingly crinkling up her nose at the thought of stew and hangovers, Marci shook her head once. "I think I’m going to stick to some eggs and toast for now, to be safe." After taking a moment to push herself out of the chair, Marci pulled her sleeves down over her hands and turned to pick up her book from the chair. "Well, it was nice to finally getting to talk to you, Kim. I’m sure I’ll see you around sometime later."

“Indeed. Not hard to find me.” She waved her hand to indicate the library.

A wide grin split Marceline's face. "Right, right, that's awesome. Then, until later, madam." She halfway curtsies to get a smile from her newest acquaintance, then turned and began to make her way back out the door. But before exiting, a thought occurred to her and she paused in her tracks to look back at her. "Oh and, you looked lovely last night."

A nice compliment always did everyone some good. Kim's cheeks grew a bit pink at the statement. “Thank you, you did too.”

Mission accomplished, Marceline smiled and waved goodbye, catching a glimpse of the other doing the same as she exited the library and entered the dining hall. Félix was there, and as she ordered the said toast and eggs, plus a glass of apple juice and one of water, he hid what was probably a smug smile at whatever the hell she did the night prior. She pulled out one of the chairs and sat cross-legged as she opened her book and waited for her food.

Evelynn Joshi

8:37 AM

Beep beep beep.
Beep beep beep.

Evelynn was not a particularly good person at remembering things. Safe to say, her weekend alarm from back home was still on. And instead of the 'latest at any given circumstance' 10:30, she had, though remembering to change the time on her watch, forgotten to change the time zone on her phone. Germany being two hours behind her local time, the alarm had been beeping for about two minutes before a pair of hands fumbled for the phone in the light and squashed down the 'snooze' button with a vengeance. Unfortunately, the snooze only lasted five minutes, courtesy of her being notorious for abusing it until seven or eight snoozes later, she'd actually get up.
Perhaps it was a mixture of jet lag and a sudden self awareness, but she grabbed the phone and squinted at the screen.

Damn.

She fumbled around the nightstand for her spectacles and once she had them on, looked at the screen again. It read "10:37" but Lynn could have sworn it wasn't. She sat up, cross legged, a little groggy still. She had, at least, had the energy to trail back to her room after her 'midnight semi-sleepover' with Kim, throw off the heavy gown that was bothering her so much, and grab a shirt at random from the pile she'd set aside for lounging around in.
She happened to wake up in a pair of underwear, and a long Sonic the Hedgehog shirt that was baggy enough to wrap around her like a bag. And the night's events flooded back to her as she blinked at the room's decor, the graffiti wall and otherwise elegant cream walls, the marble floor with the shag rug, and the wide glass windows that fell from the ceiling to the floor, and the door to the balcony. And then she remembered.

Oh. Oh god.

A million thoughts pounced on her helpless realisation that she was miles and miles from home, and double the miles away from her family, back with Royce in India. As soon as they'd come to know their calling her was futile, they would definitely begin to panic. Ria or not, they would have already dialled her a million times. Staring at her phone and the "No new notifications" glowing on the screen made her uneasy, with the memory that there was no signal making it worse.

Oh well. Might as well make the best of it.

Lynn crawled out of bed begrudgingly, and over to the bathroom. The face that she saw in the mirror would have shocked her on any other occasion, but not here. There was more to worry about than haphazard mascara and smudged lipstick.
Nothing a quick shower couldn't fix, however. She grabbed her phone and set it on a ledge close to the sink, allowing an album by The Reign of Kindo to play. It was soothing music, and good to actually wake up to.

---

When she had stepped out, she noticed a little piece of paper under her door. She walked over and scooped it up to read:



The note was definitely different from the last one. The most notable difference was, not so much the handwriting, but the formal tone of the note. And no smiley face by Sol's name. Evelynn panicked, and cursed under her breath. If it had anything to do with her sneaking out of the party last night, and that was why Sol was being cold to her...
Well, at least they had a day off. She thought to make the most of it despite Sol being possibly mad at her.

Lynn had changed into a light blue and white sundress and actually stepped up onto her balcony as she waited for her hair to dry, brushing it out as she stood against the railing and breathed in the fresh, European air. It was therapeutic as opposed to the big city smog, and the green expanse was easy on her eyes as compared to the sand and concrete from earlier. As much as she loved the city at night, the daytime there always left her a little wistful.
She decided she wanted to be closer, and so her plans for the day were made. Today, she was going to explore the grounds, and maybe if she could, even sketch down some of her favourite scenes.
With those thoughts in mind, back inside, she grabbed the canvas tote bag she had brought with, and soon enough it was stuffed with a sketchpad, pencils, a pen, a tiny sharpener, her phone (out of habit?) among other things, and last but not least a pretty sunhat.

And so, she checked herself in the mirror one more time, wearing a nice, nude palette of make-up today, and made her way out the door, locking the room, and down the stairs. She'd rather eat wherever the family normally did, for sake of getting to know the manor a little better.



Downstairs, Evelynn hesitantly stepped through the large doors that led into the dining hall, though sighed in relief when she found it was actually the correct door; she didn't quite trust her super bad memory. Perhaps it was pure luck, or strategic elimination of the only rooms it most certainly couldn't have been - lounge or ballroom - and Klara's little tour happened to stick subconsciously, after all. Though as she entered, she saw nothing and nobody inside, except the beautiful dining room itself. It didn't have much in the way of clutter, but the dining table that stretched end to end definitely made up for it. And in the centre, was a delicate vase with what looked like fresh flowers. They gave the room an interesting scent, among the smell of not dust, but age it gave off. It wasn't unwelcome, however. Lynn stood, admiring the room from just the doorway at first, before stepping inside and gingerly stroking the expensive looking tablecloth, when-

“Good morning, Evelynn.” she was most definitely startled at the voice, deep and accented and familiar though only vaguely, evidently jumping and spinning around to face the door from where the greeting came. There she saw a very spent, though still very professional Félix in his now more casual attire, who was amused? Lynn swore she could see his lips quirk, though knowing it was him, the least expressive person in the world, it could have been a hallucination all the same. “Don’t panic! It’s only me. I was just wondering whether you were looking for something to eat?”

"F-Félix. You scared me." Lynn instinctively grabbed the strap of her tote bag and hiked it higher up on her shoulder, before using the same hand to nervously brush through her hair. "Whew. It's like you appear out of thin air, almost like you're a ghost!" she laughed briefly at the thought. Straight faced and lacking presence, he might as well have been the statue of a ghost. "I was...I got a little hungry, since I haven't eaten in like, forever. Since yesterday afternoon, actually. So I thought I'd find some way to hunt down my own breakfast, or you, since there was a note left in my room from Sol that said we could find you for breakfast."

And at the mention of his note, there was definitely a smile from Félix. It was a tiny bit smug, no, 'knowing'. Though Lynn didn't catch on why he would be...amused by something like that. Maybe he knew Sol was upset with her? Oh god oh god- she got snapped out of her thoughts again when he spoke, “That’s fine. What would you like?”

Lynn's eyebrow quirked the way it does. Though his amusement was definitely a curious thought to her, she dropped it fast enough. Sighing, she shook her head and smiled at him, one hand at the edge of the tote bag and rubbing the fabric between her fingers in the way she absently fiddles, with the other balled into a gentle fist at her side since she had nothing better to do with it, "I dunno. I..." she lost herself in thought for a moment or two, face contorting into one of brier concentration in recollection, "Oh! I remember, we're in Germany, right? When I was really little, we flew down and...my favourite part was breakfast, because there was this bread...uh. I think it had some kind of nut. Cashew...no, almonds! But that's me getting ahead of myself, I-"
She looked embarrassed at the little gushing at the memory, face flushing and her turning a little away with a little splutter in place of what should have been a casual faked cough. Safe to say, she wasn't as composed a young lady as she normally would and should have been, especially in front of cute guys. Félix was definitely no exception. "...erm. Bread, please...if there's any, of course, Félix. Please. Thank you."

“I’ll see what I can do. I’m afraid the Wolfs aren’t up yet,” he stifled a yawn himself and it made Lynn's previously excited demeanour change into a slightly downtrodden one. Well, at least 'boring' is better than 'crazy', she thought to herself. Though maybe it wasn't all her after all; it was a wild night the night before and he must have been working the entirety of it, unlike her and the other guests who were presumably having a good time, except for thought hehe early retirement of Kim and Jonas. She looked him over again. He was quite obviously pretty shattered. “Where would you prefer to eat? I can bring something here, take it up to your room, or anywhere really.”

"Huh..." Lynn found herself covering her face with her hand as the contagious yawn reached her, too, with her gazing blankly at Félix with heavy eyes right after, "I...you work too hard, you know that? I can go get it myself, if you just tell me where it is. I'll just eat here - this room is breathtaking. And...it's pretty early, and I'm sure you were serving drinks to everyone all night last night. Think the Wolfs will come after you if you grab some last minutes of shut-eye?"

Completely, deftly, ignoring the latter half of her conversation, or perhaps just missing it in his tired state, he replied straightforwardly, “I don’t mind, so, uhh, no, don’t worry. To drink?”

"Just water will do." Lynn gave him a nod, a little disappointed that he refused to say much about the Wolfs at all, before he took his leave quite hastily.

“Okay. I’ll be back in a moment.”

And so leaving her to admire the room and its build some more. The paintings in particular caught her eye. The last thing she saw of him was him vanishing into a separate section of the room, and the light sound of footsteps against metal in a fashion that implied either jogging or, more likely, climbing.

Lynn took the time to also set down her bag where she'd chosen to sit, two seats off the head of the table closest to the door, and was standing by the paintings when a movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention.
Perhaps it had been about five minutes, though Félix had returned, with a tray that glistened as it caught the light of the room, and Lynn could have sworn it glinted like silver. Maybe it even was, knowing this place. Her eyes, however, were drawn to the contents of it. More than one kind of bread sat in a little basket and along with that, there were little pots of some jams that looked exotic and in all the hues of pink to red to orange to even a dark blue-purple, a stick of what looked to be butter and assorted cheeses as well. It even had a jug of iced water with a lemon wheel in it. Oddly, that was just the way she liked her water. Cold and with a refreshing taste, and still rather than sparkling. The fact that it was eerily just as she'd liked it didn't strike her as odd just yet. If they got the room perfect down to the letter, nobody was to say they tracked other habits.
Something, if she had paid more attention to, would be decided to be a tiny bit creepy.

Safe to say, the whole spread made her jaw drop.

"Félix! This is incredible!" she clapped her hands together delightedly, though still a little in awe, her eyes feasting on the delicious goodies indeed. "Goodness, there's so much, how did you, in..." He was gone five minutes maximum. How could he have gathered so much in a time that seemed so short? It amazed Evelynn. These people really might have been Fey-like as Kim called them.

Félix stood, hanging onto her words and waiting for her to finish the sentence. His eyes were half lidded, in a more tired manner than anything else, though Lynn couldn't help but feel the thought was lost on him. Strictly business and barely anything but meant he came off as almost cold, or...bad with people? It definitely was difficult to hold a conversation with this man, that was for sure.
An awkward silence hung for a tiny bit that made her bit her bottom lip.
He's probably just tired. That's it.
She had decided that was what it was indeed, with no room for doubt. That idea sounded much better to her than the fact that he was giving her the cold shoulder.

She walked up to him to actually fetch the platter from him with a warm smile, and with her new self-assurance, it wasn't hard. Sympathy came naturally to her. "Here. Goodness. You really look out of it. Why don't I take this, mm? Don't worry about it, hah."

He instinctively clutched at the tray initially, though it wasn't difficult for Lynn to coax it from him, to which he smiled awkwardly, the way he did when upstairs in her room. His professional air disappeared for just that handful of seconds and Lynn felt her heart turn to mush. He really did have such a cute smile. “Uhh, thanks. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

"No, no. This should be perfect." Lynn happily accepted the tray, almost humming a delighted tune in anticipation of all the delicious treats there were. Although, she paused, not actually taking it back to where she left her bag (which was pretty close actually), but instead putting it on the nearest flat surface of the table she could find.
She turned to face him again, tapping her foot with crossed arms and a tiny smirk at her own lips, much like his when he first stepped in. Her cheeks had a light flush, indicating not embarrassment but some internal excitement. Perhaps at being in his proximity like that.
"You can get yourself in bed for another half an hour and stop worrying about everything if you really want to do something for me, eh?"

She paused, pondering something for just a handful of seconds. His tired eyes made the decision for her. They drew her closer to him so she was leaning in, and without warning, got on her tiptoes just a tiny bit to kiss his cheek in greeting fashion of the Wolfs. It was more a light peck than anything else.
Her pale lipstick didn't show up much against his skin, but there was a tiny little mark leftover when she pulled away and gave him another smile, her own cheeks and even the tips of her ears a brighter pink as she uses one of her hands to push her spectacles back up on her nose and some of her dark brown tufts behind her ear. "Hey. Thank you, Félix. I realise you probably work yourself to the bone, especially when there are so many guests to tend to, but I really appreciate it. And hey, you call me Evelynn now too. It's heaps better than stuffy old Miss Joshi, isn't it?"

“Yes, Evelynn,” The words came out weightless and unsure. He appeared ever so slightly shaken, her actions being rewarded with a gentle blush. It was so odd seeing him anything but professional, though Lynn sure as hell loved it, “I’ll just go and uhh lie down, then?”

"Yeah. Just take a load off, relax for a while. Maybe take a thirty minute nap. What time's it now..."

“9:40,” Felix responded, instantly.

"Ah! So A half hour nap would be just fine, then" Lynn chirped, glowing at the thought that he would actually consider her suggestion.

“Uuuh, okay. Thanks.” His voice gave way to an uncertain tone on the ‘thanks’, “When you’re finished, pull the rope” he pointed it out casually. It hung in a corner of the room and Lynn couldn't help but feel she'd seen it somewhere before. Wait, it was the same one as in her bedroom! And it felt like the only thing actually connecting her room's odd choice of furniture and style to the rest of the house. “And I’ll clear up. Is there anything else I can get you?”

"Oh, so that's..." the words were more to herself than him when she made the connection. She made a mental note to herself that she would be fully able to call for him in her room if ever she needed him.
"I see. Ah, don't worry, I'll call for you when I'm done. Everything'll be fine." She nodded quickly in confirmation. "I think I'm done for the moment." And then gave the gentleman a cheeky wink. His green eyes stared back. There was an indiscernible emotion about them, though not negative, for sure. Lynn couldn't place it."Thanks again, Félix. Perhaps...next time I ring for you, might be from my bedroom, huh?"

“There should be a service rope in all of the rooms, so, if you need me upstairs, yes,” And here, Lynn could have sworn he caught her drift. He smirked. “Bon appetit.”

"Oh, I think I can see myself needing you upstairs in the very, very near future." Lynn only just resisted doing more than punctuating her sentence by running a dainty finger down his shirt, eyes taking their time to linger and drink him in from just how close she was still standing. He even smelled foreign. Fresh like the grass outside. It made her bite her lip again when she finally met his eyes, a nervous laugh leaving her lips not long after as she blushed again. "See you, Félix."

And with that, he was off, leaving a swooning Lynn to totter back to her seat and sigh contently as she absently spread some raspberry jam on a slice of almond bread.

Jonas Landvick



Jonas leaned back in his chair, the afternoon daylight streaming through the now open window. He had hunkered down earlier to finish the letter, and now he wasn't sure how to even send it. As he packed the letter into one of the envelopes he'd brought just for this purpose, Jonas thought about maybe asking about taking a short trip to the nearest town to send it. Most of all, he really didn't want the Wolf's getting their hands on it. He didn't trust them entirely, even with something as harmless as a letter to home.

Jonas stood up and stretched, his spine cracking audibly from being hunched over this letter for far too long. The décor of the room surrounded him, its oddness seemed suffocating. That damn stuffed bird was intent on staring at him wherever he went.

Jonas strolled across the room and towards the door with his letter in hand. As he opened and stepped through it quickly, he nearly ran headfirst into Felix, who had been passing by. Jonas stopped short quickly but clumsily, trying not to run into the man, but in doing so he dropped his envelope, which fluttered down to the floor.

“Oh- sorry Felix!” Jonas exclaimed, trying to recover from the shock of nearly running into the guy. “I guess I've been a bit of a clutz since I got here, huh?”

Felix looked entirely unperturbed by the whole situation. “Not at all, sir.” He remarked cooly. Jonas saw with a small amount of uneasiness that Felix's eyes darted to the letter on the floor. Before Jonas could pick it up, Felix stooped down swiftly and gracefully picked it up himself. “Shall I send this for you, Mr. Landvick?”

Jonas shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, not really wanting to snatch it back from the guy, and not really wanting to answer the question either. “Well, uh...I don't really know the return address...”

Felix gave him a quick knowing nod and said politely, “I shall take care of it for you right away. Will there be anything else?”

“...Nope. Guess not.” Jonas responded, with a hint of defeat in his voice.

“Very good, sir.” Felix left and stepped quickly down the stairs. Jonas briefly wondered how he could move so fast down the steps without tripping. Once Felix was out of earshot, Jonas sighed as he could only accept the situation. He really didn't want his hosts to be handling that letter, but it couldn't be helped now.

Eventually, Jonas made his own way down the staircase, deciding to relax in one of the lounges for a while.