[IC] The Island: A Murder Mystery | Currently Accepting 1-2 More Players!

T H E S T A R T . . .

Today is a normal day as any other: you wake up, eat breakfast, then go about your business as you usually do. Maybe you go to work, hoping for the 9 hours to pass quickly so you can relax. Maybe you're spending a day with family. Maybe you decide to head off campus and go exploring the city. Whatever your plans, there's nothing out of the ordinary worth your comment, and so you carry on as you normally do.

It isn't until the evening that you notice something is different about today. Making your way to the front door, your eyes fall on the sleek black briefcase leaning against the adjacent wall. It's accompanied by an envelope with your name written in lilting cursive, and you immediately notice there is no return address. Even more strange is that you're the only one on your street/hallway to have received such a package.

After a moment of indecision, the nagging curiosity in the back of your mind leads you to grab the case and haul it inside your home. Placing it on the kitchen counter, you first focus your attention on the letter addressed to you:

Open Your Letter

Dear [Your Name],

Congratulations! You have been chosen as the receiver of an all expenses paid trip to Wolfe Island! Located on Flathead Lake in the beautiful Montana, this estate has been passed down from generation to generation, and as part of the Wolfe family's annual tradition, a select few have been chosen to stay at the luxury home for one month.

Within the briefcase you will find your flight ticket and information, a room key, and 5,000 USD in cash. Please do not lose any of these as we do not send replacements. We hope that you will use the money to buy wardrobe and any items you might need for the trip. Be advised that there will be many events hosted in the grand ballroom, therefore we suggest purchasing formal wear along with outdoor-appropriate garments such as swimsuits and athletic wear. As we are located in the middle of a lake, there will be plenty of opportunity to wander the grounds and participate in a variety of activities.

Finally, do not be late for your flight. It is not a private jet, and it will leave whether you are on it or not. We hope you will accept our offer, as we very much look forward to meeting with you.

Sincerely,

Heather Vandertulip
Secretary of Wolfe Estate

Unable to help yourself, you anxiously open the briefcase and read the flight information hiding inside, letting you know that you have one week to prepare your belongings. You hurriedly skip past the key and the ticket until your eyes fall on what was really tugging at your interest: a thick manila envelope with a sticker lazily placed across the flap to hold it shut. Are there really 5,000 dollars inside? You pick it up and peek inside, and sure enough there are stacks of hundreds enclosed in rubber bands.

And then your eyes wander to a folded piece of paper that you now realize you had missed. Spreading out the page in front of you, you're more than a little freaked out at the printed image on it. It's you, but caught in the act of your deepest secret. Maybe it's the the date you had with your coworker that your spouse doesn't know about. Perhaps it caught you at the shady park a few blocks down, where you had discreetly met with a dealer to fuel your addiction. Whatever it was, you're suddenly aware that someone has been watching you.

Replacing the contents back in the briefcase, your heart thuds in the quiet of your home, but the question hovers in the silence around you: do you accept?

[Chai]

S C E N E 1 : T H E M E E T I N G . . .

The day has finally come. And somehow, mother nature seems to have picked up on the somber, mysterious tone; the Monday sky is cloudy and grey from wherever you are, matching your own nervousness and perhaps even fear, dread, and suspicion. Whatever you're feeling, it seems as if Earth itself has set you up for this moment. Even the person driving you to your respective airports comments on the gloominess. "Hopefully the storm passes quick," your significant other/Uber driver/taxi driver says as they pull up to the drop-off lane outside the terminal, glancing up at the shades of white and grey slowing rolling across the sky as you unload your baggage from the trunk of the vehicle. And you, too, wish the storm will pass quickly, that the month goes by fast and you can go on with your life as if nothing has happened. As if this whole ordeal was nothing more than a little 'blip' in your record. Perhaps after this month, you might even forget about the event entirely.

If only you were so lucky.

The time at the airport is a rather standard affair. You check in two hours before your departure time (each of you on different flights), and wait anxiously at the gate. You find a way to kill time, maybe exploring the duty-free shops that, while lacking tax, have exorbitant prices. Maybe you find a nice little cafe to eat a snack and settle your stomach. Maybe you decide to lay on the seats and play Candy Crush on your phone. Whatever it is that you're doing, it helps to ease your mind until your gate begins to call for passengers to board the plane.

You're in line behind a family of four, praying to whatever god that you aren't seated anywhere near the two young bratty children currently arguing over who gets to use the family iPad first. And just as you can feel the dull throb of a headache about to form, the lady checking tickets smiles brightly at you as she scans the piece of paper. "It seems your ticket has been upgraded to first class, Mr/Ms. [Your Name]!" She informs you kindly, handing your ticket back to you before ushering you on. You walk down the boarding bridge, earning a nod from the pilots before a flight stewardess directs you to the first class seating at the front of the jet. Clearly those at the Wolfe Estate spared no expense in your comfort, even when some of your flights were a mere couple of hours away from Montana.

You land at Glacier Park International Airport (each of you at different times), a small field with only a single terminal that's surprisingly busy for its size. Of course, it's July and also peak season for the National Park. Looking out the window, you see the sun peaking out from behind the majestic Rockies, a stark contrast to the grey skies of your hometown. All around you, families, tourists, and nature enthusiasts flutter around the baggage claim, fighting to grab their luggage and go. You're one of the last to grab yours, waiting for the crowd to die down before stepping up to haul your belongings onto a cart. It isn't until you step out into the pickup area that you realize you're utterly lost. There had been no further instruction on the letter that you can recall. Where do you go? How do you get to your destination?

Thankfully you spot an older gentleman dressed in a fine, tailored suit, his gloved hands holding a sign with your name on it. It looks vaguely familiar, and you realize it's the same penmanship written on the letter from one week ago; the same lilting cursive that now brings relief and anxiety all at once. He seems none too surprised as you approach him, only nodding at you and tucking the sign under his arm as he leads you outside.

Lost in your own thoughts, you're suddenly jolted by a man crashing into you. "I'm so sorry," you hear him mumble an apology as he slides past, and you feel something slide into your hand. A rolled up piece of paper, just small enough to be hidden. By the time you realize it wasn't a mistake, he's already nowhere to be found, lost in the sea of travelers even as you search the crowd for a glimpse of his face.

"Mr./Ms. [Your Name]?" The older gentleman calls out near a sleek black Range Rover, seemingly unaware of the interaction you'd just had. He ushers you to the car after a moment, helping you load in your bags before opening the door to the back seat and letting you slide in. Back at the driver's seat, he shifts the gear in drive and invites you to relax. "It'll be an hour drive to Flathead Lake," he says, smiling as his eyes flick up to glance at you in the rear view mirror. "So it's best that you get comfortable. The Wolfe family has been expecting you." And with that he leaves you to your own devices, driving on until you've reached Rollins, the extremely small town at the edge of the lake. He stops at a boat dock, transferring your belongings to another mystery man—grizzly and lumberjack-ish—who loads it into the luxurious looking motorboat before wishing you well and driving away.

A short boat ride later you step out onto the mahogany wood of the private residence's dock, greeted by a tall Asian woman. "Hi there," she says and offers her hand in a gentle handshake. "I'm Heather Vandertulip, and welcome to Wolfe Island. Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe are delighted that you could make it." She taps a quick text into her phone before slipping it into her pocket, proceeding to tell you about the history of the island and all of its features. But you find that you're unable to pay much attention to her droning voice, instead looking in awe at the behemoth of the building in front of you. The stone building is absolutely massive; three floors, grand architecture, and a life of luxury welcome you as you walk to the steps, and by the time you make your way up, you realize you'd missed every single thing Heather had talked about.

"Please, make yourself at home," she invites you inside the great room, motioning to the multitude of seating areas within. "There are refreshments on the tables, so please don't hesitate if you're hungry or thirsty. Everyone should be arriving shortly, and I just ask that you not leave this general vicinity until we've all gathered." Then with a final, twinkling look in her eyes, she smiles gently and leaves you.

[Grimoire Gaming]

---

---

Maya Soto’s life was suddenly a movie, so it seemed. The genre? Yet to be determined… but hopefully it wasn’t a horror film, despite the ominous nature of the suitcase and the blackmail. Okay, so maybe it was looking to be the introduction to a horror movie. Maya was probably heading to her own murder, or a human trafficking ring, or something equally as awful, but hey! At least she was riding first class on her way to it! Nothing like going out in style. Was this how the one percenters got to live? Maya had never even flown on an airplane before, let alone first class. When the flight attendant offered her a hard beverage, you bet your ass she took it. Maya needed something strong to help shake these nerves.

The Glacier Park International Airport was quaint compared to the one in Arizona that she had taken off from. Maya had her carry on full of art supplies — pencils, ink pens, charcoal, watercolor paints, and sketchbooks of various grades of paper, and a suitcase with everything from athletic adventure clothes to formal ball attire. She had both bags in tow when she encountered Mr. Spooky, the suited… butler? Honestly, what was her life right now? She was getting in a car, with this elderly stranger, and most definitely heading towards her death.

The young brunette sat in the backseat of the luxury vehicle and stared down at the note that the man in the airport had stealthily passed to her. What kind of game were these rich bastards playing with her? Of course she didn’t trust them! Why would she have any reason to trust people that literally blackmailed her onto a plane flight to Montana? The only reason she was even here was because her life was quite literally hanging in the balance. Maya crumpled the note up and stuffed it into her jacket pocket, trying to put it out of her mind for the time being.

“Oh my god.” Maya remarked in awe as the boat approached her final destination. If she had thought that the five thousand dollars, first class seat, Range Rover, suited butler man, and the boat ride to a private island were extra… the residence located on said private island put all of those things to shame. This wasn’t a house. Hell, it wasn’t even a mansion. This place was a whole goddamn castle!

Maya was interrupted from her awestruck admiration by the voice of a tall, beautiful Asian woman. So, this was Heather Vandertulip. The name might have sounded phony, but there appeared to be a real live person behind it. She… well, she didn’t look like a murderer or a human trafficker, but you can never trust appearances. Regardless, Maya followed the woman inside and couldn’t shake the feeling that she was like a lamb heading to slaughter.

The interior of the estate proved to be just as regal and impressive as the exterior. Maya had only ever experienced such luxuries through the TV screen before. How was she supposed to “make herself at home” in a place where even the air she breathed felt above her means? Heather directed her attention to a table full of lovely looking refreshments before asking that she remain there until everyone arrived. Wait…

“Everyone?” Maya asked quietly in shock after Heather had already walked away. In all of this time, she had never expected that there would be others. Were they all being blackmailed, like she was? What were their secrets like? What did these wealthy people intend to do with them? Was this going to be a competition to the death, like those awful Saw movies? Maya drowned out her panic by taking a large gulp of ice water while she waited in the great room. Well… let the games begin, mamá didn’t raise a loser.

[Lord Wraith]

_{Location: Great Room - Wolfe Estate}

Post Title: Lover, Leaver (Taker, Believer)

---

_{Interaction(s): @GhostMami as Maya Soto}

Previously: None

A dreary drizzle fell from the skies over the Richmond International Airport as Andrew Wright attempted to shield his long, tousled hair from the cold water droplets. A knot had formed in his stomach almost a week ago, exactly the same time he had looked at the calendar on his phone and realized how rapidly this day was approaching. That knot had only tightened as he bid his wife goodbye, kissing Beth seconds after lying to her face.

He had told her that he was on his way to jury duty, a high profile case that would require him and the other jurors to be isolated from the world and that the case would take upwards of a month. Of course this was all just the elaborate lie he had concocted in order to protect his marriage. Beth could never find out the truth about his trip, let alone the contents of the briefcase.

Going through the motions at the airport, Andrew had almost regressed into a zombie-like state until he was brought back to reality as the woman checking his ticket cheerily informed him that his seat had been upgraded to first class. He find himself unsurprised before admitting to himself he had simply assumed the ticket was already first class given that the resort had yet to save on any other expense. Settling into his seat, Andrew allowed himself to enjoy the comfort, waving down the first stewardess to pass as he ordered himself an old fashioned.

Spending his time on the plane wisely, Andrew used the near seven hours to catch up on his personal devotions, spending the time on the airplane pouring through his bible as he jotted down several lesson ideas for his Youth Group upon his return at the end of the month. Looking up to see the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign, the Youth Pastor blinked, remarking quietly to himself at how the time had flown by.

Exiting the plane went as smoothly as boarding, Andrew was quickly taken aback by how busy the small terminal actually was. While he wouldn’t consider himself well travelled by any stretch, he had never realized that Montana’s National Park had such a large draw. The crowds inside the terminal were a surprise to say the least as Andrew smiled at several families who walked by him before turning his face towards the large windows. The warmth of the sun radiated over his body as he welcomed the change in weather from the dreary Virginia rain he had unregrettable left behind.

Retrieving his luggage, Andrew wandered towards the exit tapping the pockets of his chocolate-coloured suede jacket to find the directions he had printed off. Stopping as he struggled to find the folded piece of paper, Andrew paused as he noticed a strangely dressed man out of the corner of his eye. The man looked like something out of an old movie, dressed in a manner that could only be described butler. Though his attire was hardly the only reason the older man had caught Andrew’s eye, between his gloved hands was held a sign that read Andrew’s own name.

As Andrew approached, the man nodded towards him before motioning that he should follow. Silently nodding his agreement, Andrew did as suggested, following the man outside. Pausing as he held the door open for a family behind him, Andrew’s wandering eye caught a glimpse of a young blonde woman. For a brief second, his mouth twisted into a wolf like grin as a hunger appeared in his eye.

A grunt suddenly escaped his lips as Andrew collided with another man who began to profusely mutter apologies before just as quickly departing as Andrew tried to catch up with the ‘butler’. Suddenly realizing there was a piece of paper in his hand, Andrew opened it as his eyes widened at the words. The knot in his stomach that he had forgotten about suddenly becoming the only thing he could think about as his anxiety began to spike.

Was it too late to turn back? Perhaps it would be better to simply face the music at home.

Shaking his head, Andrew looked forward again. He had come this far, there was no turning back now. The ‘butler’ quickly loaded Andrew’s belongings into a luxury sport vehicle as the Youth Pastor made himself comfortable in the back. The drive went by relatively quickly as Andrew looked down at the paper in his hand again, reading the words over and over as he desperately tried to make out something in the illegible portion of it.

Shaking his head as he reluctantly gave up and tucked the paper back into the pockets of his jeans, Andrew felt the vehicle come to a stop as he was transferred from the car onto an equally luxurious motorboat that ferried him over the water. It didn’t take long to reach the estate, the massive residence quickly coming into view as Andrew felt a small gasp escape his chest. It was spectacular, far beyond his wildest dreams in terms of a home he could ever own.

Stepping out of the boat, Andrew was greeted by an Asian woman, whom Andrew noted was quite tall for both her race and sex. Extending her hand, the woman introduced herself as Heather Vandertulip, a name that Andrew quickly recognized as having been signed at the bottom of the invitation. Returning the greeting, Andrew watched the woman retract her hand, pulling her phone out as she typed out a short text of some sort. Andrew could only it was to let someone else know of his arrival. Perhaps the ominous Mr. and Mr.s Wolfe?

Following behind the woman, Andrew knew she was talking, something about the history of the estate, but he found himself too wrapped up in his surroundings to pay her much attention. It wasn’t until he entered into the great room that Andrew realized that he hadn’t retained a single word that Heather had said. The woman smiled towards him, inviting him into the large room in front of them as she asked him to wait for apparently others to arrive. Gesturing towards the chairs and the refreshments on the table, Heather suggested that Andrew make himself at home.

Nodding as he accepted the invitation due to seeing no other options at the time. Entering the room, Andrew noted a woman had arrived ahead of him, walking towards her as he found himself beginning wonder if perhaps she was here under the same circumstances as himself. His mind began to race at the reasons why someone as obvious wealthy as the Wolfe Family would be blackmailing a group of people like him? Some false moral high ground? Some sort of sick game? Or perhaps this was some sort of entrapment, something set up by his wife and Beth actually knew his darkest secrets.
Reaching for a glass of water, Andrew nodded towards the other woman as he spoke.

“Did you need a refill there, ma’am?”

[Panic]

---

---

Nora Bellwood had considered just pocketing the money and failing to show up at the airport, really she had. Maybe if she was smarter, she would have actually gone through with it too. But above all, Nora was curious. Curious about who would leave someone a suitcase with those files and an envelope of cash. Curious about how they found her and why they hadn’t just blackmailed her. Curious about what exactly the Wolfe’s had in store for this select few.

So, Nora made her flight, with multiple bags and an itch looking to be scratched. She hadn’t told anyone where she was actually headed; that would have driven too many unanswerable questions. Instead, she had told the Santos family she needed some time off for her mental health and would unable to continue nannying for Eric. They had been more than understanding considering what she had just been through.

By the time her plane jostled across the Montana tarmac, screeching to a halt, Nora began to have doubts. Outside of Big Sky, Montana was not the place the rich and famous ended up. At least, not the type of rich and famous individuals Nora considered laudable. No, Montana was filled with hicks, mountain men, and C-list celebrities like John Mayer. However, she might have to reconsider her preconceived notions if the personalized chauffeur was any kind of hint at what was in store for her. Nora would have quickly replaced all fears of the most dangerous game if it weren’t for the note she had been handed on her way to her ride. Somehow, someone somewhere knew exactly who she was and what she was doing in bumsfuck nowhere. The eerie feeling of being watched that would cause the hairs on the back of her neck to raise and goosebumps to cover her flesh returned with a vengeance.

Nora had wondered what exactly was to be gained by the Wolfe’s inviting her to this estate. If they wanted her dead, it was obvious they had the means to have had it done quickly and quietly. And money was obviously not a motive, given the house towering ahead that Nora would have killed to own. As much as she wanted to just ignore the nagging feeling telling her to run, Nora knew she’d have to keep her eyes open for the time being until she could figure out why she was dragged into this Agatha Christie wet dream.

She couldn’t risk those files being out in the world like this. Not without knowing how they found out first. The Wolfe’s knew her secret, but that didn’t mean anyone else needed to. If Nora had to guess, all of the guests joining her would each be there for similar reasons, meaning they had secrets Nora could use to ensure her own being kept if the Wolfe’s had the intentions of releasing it.

Nora bid Heather Vandertulip goodbye as she made her way into the great room. Smoothing out her caramel-brown corduroy mini-skirt, and tightening her slick-blacked high ponytail, she steeled herself. Head high, shoulders back, consistent eye contact. She’d be damned if she didn’t ooze confidence; she wasn’t going to be victim here. Nora was not to be fucked with. Her black heels clicked against the tiled floor as she offered an easy, welcoming smile on her way to the refreshments. She gave a slight nod to the pair of individuals talking, a younger woman who obviously looked out of place and a bit uncomfortable in all of the luxurious accommodations and a man who was either fashionably disheveled or just in the desperate need of a haircut. She started to busy herself by mixing herself a drink.

Gin and Tonic in hand, Nora examined the room, her eyes moving slowly over the leather seating and high vaulted ceilings. It wasn’t exactly her tastes, but it did speak to the extreme wealth the Wolfe’s had. The woman’s eyes landed on the newest guest, a pretty blonde looking like she’d be more at home in some stuffy office than here on “vacation”. Nora met her gaze and offered her a warm smile that wasn’t exactly well-received. Might as well try and do some digging, and figure out why she was already making enemies.

“Well now, that’s not the face of somebody about to enjoy a month of relaxation. Don’t tell me you’re already tired of the view already,” Nora said with a smirk, gesturing to the gorgeous view outside as she walked up to the blonde.

The blonde, for her part, put on a smile after a moment, still looking over the room. She bit her top lip, which was already looking raw enough as it was, before nodding and allowing herself a shrug. "Not a view anyone could get tired of, I don't think. I guess I was just expecting... something else." She chuckled sheepishly, finally allowing herself to seem at least somewhat approachable. "Something... smaller, maybe."

Nora politely chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Yes, I don’t know what I really had in mind either I suppose. To be completely honest,” she said leaning in and lowering her voice as if she was telling her a secret, “I’m not sure I even know who the Wolfe’s are.” She took a long sip of her wine, looking back out at the sparkling lake peeking through the grounds before returning her gaze towards the blonde. “I’m sorry, how terribly rude of me. I’m Nora Bellwood,” she said, her hand outstretched.

“Yeah…” The tall blonde followed Nora’s gaze at first before her eyes fell on Nora’s outstretched hand. A thin blonde eyebrow raised, but she took the hand and shook it. “Haley Black. Uh… nice to meet you. You’re a guest here too, then?” She once again glanced around, eyes stopping on every other guest, obviously putting things together in her head. Did everyone else have files to be revealed too?

“I figured we all were. Although, now that I think of it, how awful would it have been if I had just tried to introduce myself to the host. I guess I should probably be more careful then,” Nora said with a chuckle. She had quickly picked up on the fact that Haley did not know who she was either, and had waited to introduce herself. It was probably a safe bet then she didn’t know the Wolfes either. Nora had been right then to assume she wasn’t the only one here under curious pretenses, especially considering how guarded the other girl was. “So, Haley, what is it you do?”

Haley rolled her eyes at the crazy idea of ever being a host in a place like this, but smiled anyway. “Careful would probably be good. A bunch of rich people offering free travel to a mansion in Montana to… however many guests? I thought it was a scam for sure.” She tugged at her black suit, dressed the part of a… “I’m a lawyer. I’m still not entirely sure if we’re about to be offered stocks in some pyramid scheme…” She narrowed her eyes, then shrugged. “What about you?”

A lawyer… that would make sense if she also had a suitcase filled with secrets delivered with her invitation. She’d have to be careful around this one. “Oh wow, that’s so impressive! Especially for someone so young!” Nora gushed. “I’m just a nanny. I love children so I guess until I have some of my own, I love my work!” She wanted to correct Haley on her guess. What kind of person handed out cash if they were looking for some kind of investment? Either she wasn’t going to be as big of a threat as Nora had originally anticipated, or she was playing dumb. “Although, if this is some kind of timeshare or pyramid scheme trap, I’m more than happy to sit through any kind of presentation if it means getting to spend a whole month here!”

“A… nanny, huh?” Haley furrowed her brow in confusion. Maybe she wasn’t playing dumb whatsoever. “Just a nanny? Are you, like… the daughter of some rich parents? Did you get some crazy inheritance?” She looked up at the huge room again, in thought, before shaking her head and glancing at the drinks. “Maybe it’s not some scam then. With all the outfits they wanted me to bring I thought only the rich were getting invited. How did you… y’know, afford everything?”

Nora’s jaw clenched a bit, but she kept her smile plastered on her face. What a bitch. Although, she was obviously digging to see if Nora had gotten the same envelope of cash as she had, without admitting it of course. Well two could play that game. Nora gave another polite chuckle, trying to seem completely unaffected by Haley’s remarks. “I do actually come from a privileged home. You know, both parents in finance and all that. I couldn’t imagine having to take off from work without having some kind of savings built up, but this seems like too much of an adventure to pass up on! You must be self-made though, otherwise you’d know how unsavory it is to talk about one’s financial situation, especially when first meeting someone. Plus, we like to call it upper-middle class, not rich,” Nora said with a wink and a smirk. “I wouldn’t worry about it though, there’s a lot of obvious tells for new-money families. We all have to start somewhere though!” Nora cursed at herself mentally. That might have been too harsh, even if she deserved it. “Oh you don’t have a drink! Can I get you something?”

Haley blinked owlishly, a darkness coming to her cheeks as she seemed to slowly realize her mistake. She smiled sheepishly yet again, reaching up and scratching an itch on her neck. “Wow. Sorry, I uh… didn’t realize how that came across! I am self-made, I was more…” She paused, biting her lip raw and looking at the drinks. “I’m good, thanks. I was curious about this being a scam. Rich people bringing the rich, or… upper-middle class into a fantastic environment, convincing them to pay out far more than necessary, then pulling them into a multi-level marketing scheme. Like… like this had seemed, until you had mentioned you were a nanny.” She cleared her throat, now a bit uncomfortable, and started to scoot back. “Maybe… a drink would be okay. What do they have out?”

[CaliforniaState]

_{『Time - Afternoon』
『Location - Wolfe Estate』
『Interaction @GhostMami | Maya Soto, @Lord Wraith | Andrew Wright』}

Then

“The number you are trying to reach is currently available. Please try aga—” the phone cut short before the screen illuminated with the keypad once more. Another ten numbers strung together before hitting the call button.

Ring….ring…..ring….

“Allo?”

“Diego, Soy yo, Marco. Oye necessito un favor”

“Marco? No he sabido de ti desde...bueno, ya sabes. Que necesitas?”

“Necesito que investigues algo. Que tu sabes de Montana?”

Now

“Hopefully the storm passes quick” his driver said.

Marco hated small talk, especially with uber drivers. Today was different though, with no certainty of tomorrow after the apparition of the briefcase nothing was guaranteed. “It’s a terrible day for rain” he said looking out the window up into the clouds. Raid drops coated the screen while a streak of rain ran down parallel to where his cheeks were, an omen? Who knew? Regardless of the weather, Marco still had the blackmail in the recesses of his mind casting a cloud of its own. Arriving at the terminal he took his bags and tipped his driver handsomely before going on his way. ”I need a drink” Marco thought as he made his way to the nearest bar. In all actuality, Marco had relapsed into his alcoholic tendencies and had been drinking after since opening that god forsaken letter and photo. His breath was hot with the stench of brown liquor; an old fashioned was his standard.

A few drinks and cigarettes later Marco found himself in the homestretch of his two hour wait. Time really did drag when you didn’t want it to. Standing in line he couldn’t help but find himself behind a family of four, Marco didn’t particularly like children and these two were no exception. Stepping up with boarding pass in hand, Marco was never more relieved to have been bumped up to first class. This was the first and probably the last time he’d ever get to experience such luxury. Of course, it was too good to be true, even though he wasn’t particular to kids he did know their bedtime stories. Marco was being fattened up only be led to slaughter. Although did that beat the alternative if his secret got out?

Marco spent most of his overnight flight scribbling notes into his journal no bigger than a hand. The more alcohol the less legible his handwriting became, until he inevitably was too intoxicated to stay awake. As the plane landed Marco shook violently awake to the wheels hitting the tarmac, sweat sticking to his shirt while strands of hair were slick with sweat. Marco looked around to see a few startled faces, “What the fuck are you looking at? Mind your business, yeah?!” a few choice words in Spanish were mumbled under his breathe as he regained his bearings. A land with an abundance of green and vegetation was new for Marco, flatland and gorges were his home for the last few years. While it was only one terminal the National Parks airport was more of the same monotony any airport housed, there was just so many people for such a small airport.

Getting lost in the sea of people, Marco had finally found his way to baggage claim. Pushing through people was a bit more tedious than he had hoped for, his patience was wearing rather thin. The one carry on and checked bag was all he needed as he watched everyone else attack the carousel like an all you can eat buffet. Finally making it to the pick up area he was waved down by what Marco could only describe as the butler from Askjeeves or Mr. Monopoly. Marco couldn’t help but burst out with laughter, was this some kind of sick joke? Either way this was the first time he had so much as crack a smile since before the briefcase had sent him on this wild trip. That moment of relaxation was robbed just as fast as it had been given, some tourist had ran into him sending him back into a spiteful recoil. He would have swung a fist had his hand not been filled with a piece of paper. ”Pinche madre, where’d he go?” he thought before cooling down once more to read the small note.

Marco’s eyebrows furrowed at the message. With a quick sleight of hand the note had been quickly placed into his pocket journal and back into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. Skipping the hospitality, Marco entered the luxury car and once again finding himself responsible for making small talk with the driver. As he spoke Marco felt less inclined to believe him, why would a family be so interested in someone like him? What did they want? His questions would hopefully find answers within the hour. “Let’s just hope I don’t disappoint. I hope you don’t mind if I smoke in here” he said with a cigarette pressed against the crease of his lips. The car stopped to lo and behold yet another mode of transportation. What did Paul Revere’s Ride say? One if by land, two if by sea? Make that three with that airplane ride. All shock had left him at this point, the destination was all that was on his mind.

Getting off his sea legs, Marco was greeted by quite a beautiful, tall, Asian woman. His rough hands met her gentle handshake before raising her hand to plant a kiss. “I’m Marco, Marco Ronquillo, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Señorita” returning her hand so she could send a text message before turning back to him. Marco ignored what she had to say as he scoped out the rather massive estate. While others would most likely be in awe of the beauty, these were a dime a dozen from Marco’s experience. Instead he was more interested in what they had on display, but more importantly what they wanted to hide.

As his eyes covered every inch of the house, Ms. Vandertulip had led him to the great room. “Gracias, I hope to see you soon.” he said with a smirk before making his way down the steps already beaten by four others.

“I guess this is who she meant when she said everyone”

[Supersona]

This was going to be a shitty day. The wind was filled with ice as it tore against his face, ruffling the fabrics of his knitted scarf. Every part of his body was sore as he walked, ready yet unwilling to meet his fate.

His body trembled slightly from the combination of cold and emotion. A cough rattled his frame. Upon his departure Brandon had realized that he had no one to say good-bye to, no one but his cats. It had been a stark realization, really, that if he dropped off the face of the planet, not a single person would realize he was missing. Except his boss, who would probably spam his voicemail with angry “where the fuck are you” messages.

Black, sunken eyes and a pale complexion resided beneath his layers. Clearly, Brandon Caldwell was not doing well, and for good reason. Every time he closed his eyes those memories came back to haunt him – their faces and their soft, sweet voices.

His sleep was plagued with images of what they had become. Last night blood pooled from their eyes and rested on their cheeks. Maggots tore at their breasts and he could see one woman’s heart resting in its cage, completely still. He had willed it to come alive. To erase his mistake.

Then, when that failed, he willed himself awake. Back to reality. His dreams were merely a source of torment.

Okay, time to think about something else. Maybe he would listen to his favorite podcast on the flight. He might as well, right? His air pods were tucked away in the pocket of his favorite leather jacket, fully charged. Brandon tightened his grip on the green duffel bag around his left shoulder, knuckles whitening beneath the pressure. This was his go-to carrier for long distance travel. Helped him avoid the twenty dollar baggage fee every time. It was one of the many “perks” you got from serving in the military for a little while. The straps of a second duffel hung from his left hand, friction from the fabric burning his hands. He was hardly aware of the pain as he made his way towards the neon United Airlines sign overhead.

It wasn’t too late. He could be a better man.

He could fix this.

There was not a long wait at the baggage turn-in. He’d been assigned to a red-eye flight, for some ungodly reason, and as a result there weren’t a ton of people at the airport. Maybe he shouldn’t expect to receive great consideration from the Wolfe family, considering all they were putting him through… But to be fair, it’s not like they spared any other expense. Maybe they just hated him. At the very least, they wanted something from him – money, more than likely. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if this was some elaborate kidnapping scheme for ransom. Or maybe they were…. Involved in it, somehow.

Clearly they hadn’t done their research. Mommy and daddy weren’t going to bail him out of trouble.

At least the Uber driver had been personable. He seemed to be dedicated to his craft, what with the water cooler and accessible charging cords in the back. He seemed to sense that Brandon wasn’t in the mood to talk and didn’t try to force the issue.

He had spent the past week researching, preparing his mind, training his body. He registered his firearm with the county this past week and kept it in a separate hard case. He made sure to keep working out, just because it kept him sane… though he lacked the energy to run anything over two miles.

The noise of the airline blared harmlessly at the recesses of his mind as he pushed through security and walked towards the gate to his flight. He had no fucking clue what he was doing… what was his game plan? A fresh wave of anxiety tore through him as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Brandon was lost in his thoughts, the crowd bustling around him. It was like he was standing outside of his body, watching the scenes of a movie unfold. Except this time he was in the movie. He was the main character.

He thought about grabbing some food on the way in, but he didn’t want to throw it all up on the plane. The Wolfes had oh-so-generously upgraded him to first class seating. He sipped at the water in his plastic cup and fixed his gaze to the window, staring at whatever was there. Suppressing a yawn, he put his air pods in and drowned out all his thoughts.

Maybe if he was more disciplined he’d crack open the laptop in his backpack and get some work done.

He didn’t need to be told not to trust these people. They had the power to destroy his life, if they wanted to. And they flaunted that fact in his face. He just didn’t understand their motives. After a long and arduous flight, which included one three-hour layover, Brandon took his possessions from the baggage claim area and… where was he supposed to go now?

“Mr. Caldwell?” An older man called for his attention. He was standing outside a large Range Rover, a polite smile on his face. What a creepy guy. He tried not to make eye contact as he helped load his gear into the vehicle, tucked safely away inside the green duffel. “It will be an hour drive to Flathead Lake. So it’s best you get comfortable. The Wolfe family has been expecting you.”

An hour later he was on a boat, and finally, he reached the residence. “I’m Heather Vandertulip, and welcome to Wolfe Island. Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe are delighted that you could make it.” He didn’t really have much of a choice, though, right? He was tired from the flight. Maybe he should have bought one of those comfortable-looking neck pillows people get when they travel around a lot.

The building itself was beautiful. Heather’s voice drawled on and on in the background. He had to admit he wasn’t paying too much attention to what she was saying. At this point, he just wanted to find his room and try to get some sleep. Maybe the nightmares wouldn’t follow him here. He certainly wasn’t in the mood to initiate small talk with strangers.

He wondered if the others were being blackmailed as well. Probably. He was very interested in the firearm he’d tucked away in his bag before meeting the butler outside the airport, but he didn’t have time to go back and equip it now. Also… it probably wasn’t a great idea to come off as hostile right off the bat. I mean, it's legal. They didn't say not to bring it.

Brandon entered the great room and realized he was probably one of the last people to arrive. But… holy shit. This place made his house look like a dump. It was beautifully lit with natural lighting, and an elaborately crafted chandelier hung from the ceiling. There was a second floor with a balcony overhead. It kind of reminded him of his childhood summer home.

Everyone was already engaged in conversation – it would be too easy to slip by unnoticed, if he wanted. He smiled briefly and waved vaguely to the group, hoping he passed off as friendly enough. Brandon took one look at the food and felt his stomach turn, but he headed over there anyways. His hands were starting to quiver and he felt himself grow more and more irritated as time passed.

He could really use something to drink right now.

[Chai]

---

_{Post Title: Pretty Little Birds__✿__Location: Wolfe Island - Great Room}
^{Interaction: @GhostMami, @Lord Wraith, @Panic, @Jade113, @Syn, @Supersona}

---

"I said I'd like thirty of those, correct," came a voice from the grand hallway leading out of the great room, shortly followed by the appearance of a young man. Bright blue eyes. Bleach blonde hair. Perfectly tousled as if he were about to grace the cover of GQ magazine. His eyes searched the room even as he spoke into his iPhone, pausing to connect with each of the room's occupants before hopping down the three steps and leisurely striding to a table with an array of fruit.

"I need them by tonight, correct," he spoke slowly into the phone, emphasizing the last word as he plucked a fat, purple grape from the bunch sitting on the silver tray in front of him. "Mhm. Mhm. Goodbye." He tapped his phone to end the call, then tucked it into the pockets of his Gucci tracksuit. On anyone else, the outfit might have seemed tacky, or perhaps even gaudy, but on Ezra Wolfe it looked natural. Attractive even, with the bright red making his eyes pop against his pale skin and light hair.

Popping the grape in his mouth, he munched on it while observing the others around him, imagining which walks of life this batch had come from. He'd heard of the family tradition, of course, though he'd never actively participated in it until this year. The six of them were all rather lost in their own quiet conversation, but he could practically feel the nervousness permeating the atmosphere. It was thick and heavy, looming over them like a dark cloud. It was good, then, that he was there to change the attitude.

"I guess you're the first," he counted off while pouring a TopoChico into a glass cup with a golden straw, eyeing the bearded man beside him. It was a deliberately strange, non-introductory introduction, aimed at making him—and all the others—feel uncomfortable. One by one he counted them off, well aware that the side conversations would die down as he asserted himself into the spotlight. "You can always tell a personality by what they drink," Ezra continued, moving across the room in a rhythmic step, his voice matter-of-factly as he stopped by Nora and Haley. "Day drinking is such an Aquarius thing. Or are you a Cancer? Water signs... Either way, good taste." He was taking a wild stab at her zodiac, giving a playful pout before turning his attention toward the others.

"Finally, someone of my taste, haha, hey daddy," he winked at Marco, fighting not to burst in a fit of giggles at the look on the older man's face. "Kidding. Totally kidding. It's a joke, it's okay to laugh."

Then moving to the front once more, he gave a warm smile to both Maya and Andrew and idly swirled his water around, the ice cubes within making slight clanking noises against the glass walls. "Welcome to the Wolfe Estate," he said before bringing the straw to his lips and taking a long sip of the bubbly liquid. "Well don't just stare at me, enjoy yourselves! It's a big ass house with a lot of free shit, so... have at it." He grinned, toothy and dazzling, using his hands to gesture all around him. The 4K TV, the fruit platters, the caviar hors d'oeuvres on little crackers. Whatever they wanted, the staff of this house would provide.

"Such an eloquent introduction," Heather returned now, coming from the same hallway Ezra had. She frowned at the boy, her heavily lined eyes creasing marginally at the corners. There was a clear animosity between them, evident as Ezra rolled his eyes and passive-aggressively sipped his TopoChico.

"This is Ezra Wolfe," the secretary pushed forward with her formality, the ugly look on her face suddenly erased and replaced with a gentle albeit professional smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "And on behalf of the Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe, allow me to welcome you to the estate. As outlined in your letters, I hope you all have the keys with you; if you don't, we can visit the office to see about getting you a new one. Your luggage has all been brought to your rooms—women are on the second floor, men on the third. I hope you do enjoy your stay here, as it's quite a once in a lifetime opportunity." She paused, checking the time on her watch.

"It's 3 PM now, so feel free to explore and do what you like for the next 4 hours. The welcome party won't be until 7, so please reconvene here at the appropriate time, in the appropriate wear. Semi-formal is expected at the very least. The main stairwell is just behind me down this hallway, and the elevator is to the left. Do enjoy, and excuse me..." Heather turned away at the vibrating in her pocket, her voice mildly echoing off the walls with indiscernible speech as she took the call.

"Fuckin' bitch," Ezra muttered more to himself, though it was audible in the remaining silence.

[lait]

ｄｏ ｙｏｕ ｈａｖｅ ａ ＬＩＧＨＴＥＲ ？
____ａｍ ｉ ｄａｎｃｉｎｇ ＳＥＸＹ ｙｅｔ ？

_{are you watching me 'cause i move alone?}

---

▭▸▹ＬＯＣＡＴＩＯＮ . _{— ❝ G R A N D . room ❞}
▭▸▹ＩＮＴＥＲＡＣＴＩＯＮ . _{❝ @GhostMami ❞ — ❝ @Lord Wraith ❞ — ❝ @Panic ❞ — ❝ @Jade113 ❞ — ❝ @Syn ❞ — ❝ @Supersona ❞}
▭▸▹ＣＯＬＯＲ . #8a4d55
▭▸▹ＮＯＷ ＰＬＡＹＩＮＧ . ＴＵＭＢＬＩＮＧ ＬＩＧＨＴＳ

---

_{look a little harder}

ｅｖｅｒｙｔ ｈｉｎｇ ｉ ｈｏｌｄ ｉｓ ＷＥＴ
＆ ｉ`ｖｅ ｎｅｖｅｒ ｔａｓｔｅｄ ＧＬＡＳＳ ＆ ＰＡＴＲＯＮ____

God Ezra was so extra...
But she didn't hate how much it pissed Heather off.
Going out of their way to make Heather's life and awful shit storm was both of their goals and so far they weren't doing half bad a job. The one time it called for the Wolfe children to join forces, of course it had to do with terrorizing someone.

Following a good ways behind her oh so ostentatious brother was the always quiet, always watching, always fashionably late eldest of the Wolfe children. A tall, very classy woman. Valentina Wolfe. Flashy in her own way as opposed to Ezra's dramatics but that was just how the Wolfe family was. Extra, obnoxious, rich and gorgeous and they made everyone aware of it. The little silver spoon, capitalist lizards and they basked in all its filthy glory. Just before she emerged from the hallway, she doubled checked her appearance in the reflection of a mirror embedded into the wall of the hallway.

Not a lash out of place, eyeliner as sharp as her $130 manicured nails and her way too short, white body con dress snatched against her slender frame. She pushed her long, almond brown hair from off her shoulders, fixed her posture and let the strut show the attitude silently radiating from her.

Six.
A good batch——
A mixture of guests, young and older...ish. Different races, different stories, different experiences. Their parents really knew how to make things more interesting than the year before. It was finally their year to participate and by the look of it Ezra was already familiarizing himself with them.

"God this family is so fucked up," she whispered under her breath. Stopping, her eyes scanned for a minute. Of course they were confused, conversing to ease the tension that tried so hard to settle in their being. Because when you were nervous the immediate instinct was to talk- sometimes too much. As Ezra made his gaudy entrance—of which she couldn't resist snickering at—Valentina remained silent. As little Vanderflower had finished her introduction, it was hard to not notice her usual displeasure in Ezra's behavior, she scurried away like the little busy bee she was to do who knows what with who. Be a secretary of estate or some shit. Whatever the hell that was. Why they needed her? Til that day Valentina questioned it. But mommy and daddy dearest always had some purpose for her. Always made it important they had her around and like the good little secretary of estate that she was, she was everywhere all the time.

Valentina took a step forward just as Heather was out of sight and before everyone had the chance to scurry off just yet, the Wolfe sister cleared her throat and her bitter sweet voice followed. "Yes, again welcome. A little late making an introduction here but I'm Valentina Wolfe. Never Val. Never Tina. Oldest of the two," she paused just making her way to her brother. "As my eccentric sibling here mentioned, please be sure to enjoy yourself. You're all definitely out of your element and that's understandable." Very much an understatement but too late to take back.

"Uh, yeah. Relax, unwind. Don't give my little shit brother here too much to drink or he talks way too much. Fair warning. We'll be looking forward to seeing you all and getting to know you later."

---

[CaliforniaState]

_{『Time - Afternoon』
『Location - Wolfe Estate』
『Collaboration With @Chai | Heather Vandertulip』}

Marco thought he was last to show up, but the spotlight was stolen from him by quite the handsome male with a chip on his shoulder. Everyone was probably on edge after the events that transpired and led them all here. It never dawned on him if he was the only one who was being blackmailed or if they all had skeletons in their closet. ”Three men, three women” Marco thought to himself as he tallied the gender ratio, under different circumstances this could be reality dating show. The vivid image of Marco as a bachelor played in his head for a brief moment, dying seconds later. Just as there was a semblance of normality, a firework exploded onto the scene.

Everything about him was flagrant and queer, his appearance and natural traits almost put the women in attendance to shame. His gaudy attitude and demeanor flowed out of him so naturally it couldn’t have been just an affront to the crowd of strangers before him. Marco suffered from the traditional latino machismo, so much so that the excess flamboyance was starting to coalesce into something all too much for Marco. While he made his rounds Marco just repeated one word in his mind over and over, “Marica”. Marco didn’t really give a shit about made up star signs or the moon being retrograde, but at least the slav in his tracksuit was right about alcohol.

His face was harsh and brooding when it came to his turn. Marco just wished he knew who this person was and their significance to all this. His clenched jaw and rigid cheeks managed to force a smile that was just uncomfortable as he was.

The tension in the room was still as dense as it was before this character entered the fray, their silence speaking volumes. They all had free reign to do and take whatever they wanted, it was all just too good to be true. As enticing as the cornucopia was, Marco was still very weary of the whole thing. Cigarettes and alcohol would be his only friends until he had answers. Suddenly, Marco perked back up when he saw Heather join in again. He knew he had taste when she was just as disinterested in his entrance as he was.

”Ezra Wolfe” of course, why hadn’t he made the connection before? The whole introduction screamed renaissance, the golden straw, the grapes, even the chiseled figure. Marco was ready to go up to his room and just rest for the few hours they had before this so-called party they were all invited to.

"Fuckin' bitch,"

Marco stopped mid track and pivoted his body to face both Ezra and Heather, “Hey! Show some respect for the lady.”

"I'll show some respect for you, does that count?" came Ezra's sing-song voice in reply, though his gaze remained fixed on his cell phone that he had taken out again. His thumbs whizzed across the screen until he paused abruptly, glancing up and to the sides and looking over his shoulder before lazily grinning at Marco. "Look. My guy. Heather's nice and all, but we're just having a bit of fun. I call her an insufferable know-it-all broad, she calls me a—"

"Spoiled brat? Who hasn't changed since he was a teenager? Heather interjected, finished with the call in the hallway. She frowned at one of the potted plants near her, fussing with some of the leaves before heading down the steps to join the group. "Maybe you can take a page out of Mr. Ronquillo's book, Ezra, about treating people with respect."

"Should I? Well, I guess that would depend on the chapter of the book, wouldn't it? Some of the earlier ones..." Ezra's eyes searched Marco's knowingly, almost conspiratorially, as his voice trailed off into nothing.

Marco usually had the candor to speak to men like this, that’s what made him so refreshing of a personality. Easy as it may be in any other situation, it was frankly hard in this particular case. Marco wasn’t there to make friends nor was he so eager to bite the hand that fed him this early into their game. Swallowing his pride he chose to relax and allow Ezra Wolfe’s effervescence to go without confrontation. “Coño, que me he metido?” Marco half whispered half sighed.

The banter between the two returned and if it weren’t for the sass Heather was able to dish out, he wouldn’t have felt even more attracted to the Asian Amazonian. His attention had been sliced in two by Ezra’s piercing words and searching look. Ezra reminded him of his place at the estate, Marco overstepped a little too far on their first day. “The ending is always the best part to any novel, I hope you finish reading” he said before being interrupted by another gallivanting superstar debuting as Ezra’s sister. The two were shockingly two different tones, she probably got more Vitamin D than her brother.

“Can you show me around Ms. Vandertulip?”

Heather almost said no. Almost. She worried it might have been unprofessional of her, or perhaps even showing favorites. If there was one thing she prided herself in, it was the air of neutral professionalism she had on display at most times. But she figured a personal tour wouldn't hurt so much, and she smiled in Marco's direction. "Of course," she said plainly, "I think I have a few minutes to show you around the house. If you'll follow me, I'll be happy to give you a tour around."

Turning on her heel and nodding a simple goodbye toward Ezra and Valentina, she led the way out of the great room and took a left once she reached the main hallway. It opened up to a large copper room, its windows looking out over the majestic Montana scenery. "This is the copper observatory. It's become quite a favorite spot for family and guests alike to enjoy the sun while they read or work.. She made a general motion toward the back walls lined with books, then turned her gaze toward the mountains in the distance. "It's beautiful, isn't it?

Marco’s eyebrows peaked at Heather’s reply, maybe there was some normalcy to this place. Jumping at the opportunity, Marco made his way past the two Wolfe’s in sheep’s clothing, “You sure this won’t take hours? This house is pretty huge” he said, catching up to his guide. While he was supposed to be observing the house he couldn’t help finding himself studying Heather instead. Everything about her screamed bureaucratic, she was rigid, stoic, and neutral. The copper observatory was quite breathtaking, Marco was surely out of his element and the greenery was quite refreshing, he even appreciated the architecture from within. “Pero no tan hermosa como tú” his accent playing smoothly, shifting his gaze onto her. “I don’t read much, but I can read people. Don’t you get tired of being so professional all the time? How did you even land this gig?” Marco probed, hopefully she could discern empathy from interrogation.

"How does anyone land a job?" She asked him, turning away from the window and cocking one of her immaculately groomed brows at him. It wasn't meant to be sarcastic, but a hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Actually, they found me through LinkedIn. Don't look so surprised! I was working in HR prior to this. The corporate demeanor fits me, I've been told."

Heather laughed freely, walking out of the Copper Observatory and back through the hallway, leading Marco past some other rooms. She stopped in a doorway, gesturing inside at a lengthy hand-crafted oak dining table. "This formal dining room. Not many people actually eat here, but you're welcome to. Across the room is a door that connects to the kitchen, and if you go through that, you'll reach the breakfast room." Pausing for a moment, her jaw clenched as if she wanted to say something, but she seemed to rethink her words and instead settled on leaning back against the ornate doorframe. "Is there any other part of the house you wanted to see?"

Her quick reply had completely disarmed him, coupled with that devious smile. Her features were both soft and perfect, she could have easily been a model with her stature and gifted beauty. “Yeah, but for these people? I think you would fit better somewhere else” Marco had heard of this ‘linkedin’ but acclimating to technology and traditional work was still new to him.

The pair had made their way to the dining room, while everything in the house was quite beautiful it was expected. “Seems like a waste to have these many rooms and have no one use them don’t you think?” Marco caught a glimpse of her hesitation through his peripheral vision wondering what she had to say. Unfortunately for him, something prevented her from doing so, whether it was out of fear or professionalism he would never know.

“Yeah there is something else I wanted to see. Is your bedroom nearby?”

She simply stared, unamused, with her brown eyes piercing into him. "I don't live on the estate, though I live near here. And by that, I mean I don't live near enough for any of you to come and visit me. I just oversee what happens at the estate—finances, costs, sometimes we rent it out for luxury events." The rejection was swift, but also more gentle than she would have done otherwise. Lifting her phone out of her pocket to check the time, she pushed herself off the frame and took a step through into the dining room. "You'll have to excuse me, but it's just about time for a meeting. You're welcome to explore the rest of the house on your own if you want. Or you relax in your room; whatever you like." And with that she left him, disappearing through the doorway on the opposite side of the room.

The taste of rejection was all to swift. Marco didn’t need anyone doing him favors or letting him down easy. Had every rejection wounded the latino heartthrob, there would be nothing left. As she turned and vanished into the distance, Marco couldn’t help but notice she left something in her wake. “Heather wait!” his plea rather futile. Picking up the pristine white handkerchief, he examined it only to find three initials engraved at the bottom. A smirk of his own crept onto his face, the tour wasn’t a complete loss. Stuffing the handkerchief into his pocket he turned and made his way to his room; T-minus two hours till the party.

[Lord Wraith]

- -	- -

---

The combination of ice water and a few moments of solace to collect herself did wonders in easing Maya’s nerves, at least temporarily. She was somewhat glad that she was among the first to arrive, if there were to be many guests filing this lavish abode shortly. This gave her time to prepare for their arrival. What would she say… and who should she be? Everything about this place and situation was unknown, and it was enough to put even the most tranquil of souls on edge.

Maya sipped from the crystal glass in her hands as she explored the great hall. It was finely decorated, from the rugs to the furniture to the art on the walls, everything had a purpose in enhancing the overall aesthetic. The color scheme and intentional placement of each piece led Maya to believe that one of the Wolfes had a keen eye for interior design, or they hired someone who did to decorate the place. Judging by how they had spared no expense thus far, Maya presumed the latter to be true.

The student paused in her meandering to inspect one piece of art in particular. There were four pieces, actually, but they arranged in a square to form one cohesive work. It was a depiction of a landscape with a field, a forested area, and mountains in the distant background. The perspective of the landscape was identical in all four paintings, but the seasons differed: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Maya’s gaze settled on the last — snowy and serene. The whites, grays, and delicate lilac and periwinkle hues were peaceful and calming. To date, Maya had never seen snow in real life, and she wondered briefly if it snowed in Montana. She wondered if snow made you feel the way that this painting did.

“Did you need a refill there, ma’am?” A voice asked from beside her.

With a slight startle, the young brunette peered to the side before turning to fully face the new person. Maya looked down at her now empty water glass — she had been a little dehydrated after that mid-flight tequila sunrise, apparently. She slowly spun the glass clockwise and counter-clockwise in her fingertips as she eyed the stranger warily. “That depends… are you a visitor, or a host?” Maya inquired cryptically, not that she was sure she could trust one more than the other at this point. Regardless, it was good to know who she was up against.

With a slight chuckle, Andrew looked down at his attire and then back at Maya. A raised eyebrow was followed by a smirk as he cast his eyes down at the scuffed boots beneath bootcut jeans and an untucked flannel shirt. To the middle aged man himself, his clothing didn’t exactly scream ‘socialite’ but he supposed if this woman was in the same situation as he was then it was understandable that she couldn’t be too careful, especially when meeting new people. Brushing aside his open suede leather jacket, Andrew put a hand to his hip as he looped a thumb between his wide leather belt and the waist of his jeans.

“Oh no, pretty sure if I had that kind of money, Montana would be one of the last places I’d want to reside.” He chucked before motioning back towards the glass.

“Did you still want that-” Andrew opened his mouth to repeat his question but the pair were interrupted as others began to pour into the room, soon followed by one of their esteemed hosts. He was an obnoxious young man, flamboyant and gaudy, Andrew noted as the young Wolfe made his way around the room. But there was something about Ezra that made Andrew’s skin crawl and he found himself very uncomfortable in the presence of the smug, arrogant young heir.

Thankfully the tension was relatively eased by the departure of Heather and the emergence of another Wolfe. Turning his gaze away from the woman he had been speaking to, Andrew watched the young heiress take control of the room as his gaze moved to the young woman’s perfect legs. Tracing her slender calves up to the short, fitted dress, Andrew found himself having to repress a low whistle as Valentina introduced herself to the group. There was a subtle authority to her words as she emphasized her position as Ezra’s elder.. What she lacked in outward expression, she more than made up in presence as she stood and addressed the group, her quiet voice somehow crystal clear over any other noise in the room.

Leaning back in his chair, Andrew began to relax as the introductions came to a close. Turning turned back towards the woman he had previously addressed, Andrew re-engaged their previous conversation from before they were interrupted by their hosts as he motioned towards the pitcher in the center of the table..

“I don’t suppose you still want that glass of water?” Andrew asked with a humored half smile as he stood up from his chair and took a step towards Maya. Brushing some unkempt tousles away from his face and tucking them behind his left ear, Andrew extended his right hand as he introduced himself to the woman.

“My name is Andrew by the way, Andrew Wright.” He smiled, “Looks like we’ll be spending the next month together,” He added with a carefree shrug, “Well, us and four other strangers.” Andrew continued, letting out a soft chuckle as he subtly gestured with his head towards the rest of the group.

“I wouldn’t mind heading to my room to unpack. You wouldn’t happen to know the way by any chance would you?” He asked, taking a seat on the edge of the table as he relaxed his posture a little, feeling slightly more at ease with the introductions out of the way.

The artist watched the show that the Wolfe children put on, silently studying them with a keen eye. Ezra was familiar territory, believe it or not. Despite her meager upbringing, Maya rubbed elbows with her fair share of rich kids. Her university was full of them, in fact — private school snobs… and the students who were there on talent scholarships, like herself. Snobby they might be, Maya never judged them for it, and a number of her friends fell in that category. Ezra reminded Maya of her best friend Caiden, actually, and if not for the suspicious circumstances, she might be endeared by his flamboyant display.

Valentina put things more into perspective, asserting herself as the mature older sibling. She looked a proper femme fatale in that tight white dress, the kind of girl you’d need to watch your back around, lest a knife wind up in it. Maya might be judging a book by it’s cover a bit, sure, but she had to trust her instincts when they urged her to be cautious — especially in a place like this. The people and property might be beautiful, but it was all as fake and plastic as a barbie dream house. The only people that might not be frauds were the other guests.

“I do think I’ll take a glass for the road.” Maya responded to Andrew once there conversation started up once again, passing him her empty water cup. “Thank you.” She took a few moments to study this man as he went about fetching them drinks. He had a scruffy beard, calm eyes, and slightly unkempt hair that curled rebelliously around his ears. He looked a lot like the type of professor she might have at art school — relaxed, easy going, approaching middle-aged, but still stylish enough to be hip and attractive. Perhaps he was married, a catch like him probably wasn’t single, but who could be sure with that obvious lack of a haircut? Maya inconspicuously glanced down at his ring finger and a shiny gold band confirmed her original assumption. Married, probably with kids — he had a dad vibe going on.

“I’m Maya, nice to meet you.” She introduced herself as he passed her the now-full glass of water. After taking a refreshing sip, she shook her head no. “I have no idea, I didn’t get to do much exploring aside from the room we’re in. We can go get lost in this labyrinth together, though.” She suggested with a delicate, close-lipped smile.

A chuckle escaped from Andrew’s lips as he nodded his agreement and took the first steps forward. As the pair moved through the lavish halls, Andrew began to speak.

“Did you have far to travel, Maya?” He asked, “The Wolfes were kind enough to fly me from Virginia to Montana, so I can only assume that at least some of the others in our little group there were also travelled quite far.”

Maya picked up on the intentionally stressed tone of the word ‘kind’ and silently nodded, filing that knowledge away. Andrew was just as displeased to be here, so it seemed. “I flew in from Arizona… quite a change in scenery here. We might not be the furthest travelers though, that one gentleman had an accent.” She remarked, remembering the other latino from the room that she had yet to properly introduce herself to. There would be time for full introductions once she figured out where her room was, and what exactly was going on.

“What kind of people have an elevator in their house?” Maya commented quietly as she pushed the button for the next floor up. Was this just a rich person thing? Or maybe she was wrongfully judging them, and one of the Wolfes was wheelchair bound or something. Had there been ramps? She couldn’t recall. Looking over to the man accompanying her as they stepped out of the elevator, Maya asked a friendly question to gauge him. “You said Montana would be one of the last places you’d live if you had this kind of money… why is that? Is there something a desert dweller like myself should know, or is it just your preference?”

“It’s uh, I guess almost ignorant opinion, you could say.” Andrew replied with a subtle shrug. “I’ve just always seen Montana as a real redneck state” With a slight chuckle, he raised his hands in mock surrender as he continued to speak. “I know, I know, ‘but you’re from Virginia’ you say, but I don’t know, I’d just rather the Blue Ridge Mountains over the Rockies.” He paused, thinking for a second, “Are the Rockies even in Montana?” Shaking his head Andrew continued to walk alongside Maya as he went silent for a second, thinking his next answer through.

“I think if I was to ever move, it’d be somewhere warm, sunny and on a nice white sand beach.” Andrew stated solemnly. “Maybe somewhere along the Pacific, Hawaii sounds really good.” He added before turning to Maya, “What about you? Anywhere in particular that calls your name?”

“Hmm…” Maya hummed thoughtfully in reply. She thought of some of the more artistic cities that it would be fun to live in, but also considered her pride for staying in the US. “I guess if we’re talking extreme wealth, probably Paris. Seems artistic and romantic… but perhaps that’s just an outsider tourist’s take on it. As for places in the states, any of the bigger cities… New York, Chicago, San Fran.” She shrugged with a smile. “I think this is my room, number three.” Maya said, observing that her name was on a small sign below the number.

“Will you look at that,” Andrew exclaimed with slight surprise at having reached Maya’s destination already. “Looks like I chose the right person to get lost with after all, I guess I will see you at dinner?” He asked with a cheeky smile already knowing the answer.

“Do we have a choice?” Maya joked with a smirk and pushed open the door.

“My gut says…” Andrew paused, “No.” He stated flatly before speaking once more. So... I’ll see you there.” He added with a grin before giving Maya a short wave and heading towards the closest staircase.

[Chai]

E V E N T 1 : T H E P A R T Y . . .

It's just a few minutes past 7 o'clock when you exit your room and make your way down to the party. The gentle sounds of a piano echo quietly throughout the mansion, and idle chatter can be heard floating up from the first floor. Whatever ideas you had about the Wolfe family are temporarily held at bay by the bright, jovial mood of the night. A hearty laugh booms above the other voices as you make your way down the main staircase, and you stand in awe at the party around you. What seemed like an empty house is now full of life, dozens of guests standing, sitting, and walking to greet others. And perhaps more curious is the decor and theme of the party; there is no mistaking the expensive taste of the Wolfes, but everything can only be appropriately described as strange.

The hallway leading to the great room is lined with panels of mirrors on both sides, creating a stunning visual illusion for those that walk through it. The great room also seems to have been changed; the lights are somewhat dimmed, though you're still able to see the odd, eclectic pieces of decor around due to the candlelight brightening up the room. The paintings on the walls have been changed to something in the style of Salvador Dali—or perhaps they are Dali pieces themselves. With the amount of wealth accrued by this family, the thought of owning some unknown works by one of the most famous painters in history doesn't seem too far off.

A long set of buffet tables are lined against one wall with an array of food available for the party goers, and upon closer inspection, the menus are written in backward script making it almost impossible to make out the name of the food items. Thankfully, most of it looks edible, especially the beautiful display of desserts on the far right. The doors leading out to the stone patio are left open, letting the cool summer air breeze through the house. Circular tables arranged on the patio seem to be where a majority of the guests are enjoying the food, seated and in good company.

What really catches your attention, however, are the guests themselves. All around you, each guest dons a whimsical mask, ranging from the basic masquerade to downright peculiar. Golden face coverings, feathers, elaborate multi-sided masks, animal heads, and masks with wigs are everywhere. The whole scene is reminiscent of the infamous Rothschild surrealist dinner party from the 1970s; somewhere in the back of your mind, you hope its reputation as some sort of Satanic, Illuminati event doesn't follow to this party. Even the staff of Wolfe Manor are dressed in the same standard black affair and a simple wolf mask, walking around with trays full of finger foods and glasses of champagne.

As if on cue, one of these waitstaff whisks a tray of bubbly toward the six of you, looking at the group expectantly as if to encourage you to take a glass. "From the actual Champagne region of France," he says from behind his mask.

---

Additional Instruction:
In your next post, please indicate whether you take one of the glasses of champagne.

[Panic]

- -	- -

_{『Time - Afternoon - Evening』
『Location - Wolfe Estate』
『Collaboration With @Syn | Marco Ronquillo』}

---

Out of the million scenarios and possibilities Nora had run through her mind, she had not been expecting the whirlwind that was Ezra Wolfe. The ease at which he fluttered around the room, the air of better-than-thou that oozed out of him naturally grated on Nora. He was the type of kid who had not just grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth, but a goddamn ladle shoved in, and worse yet, he knew it. It wasn’t until he introduced himself as one of the hosts did she feel her animosity shift. If this was who was blackmailing her, then this was going to be easier than she had thought. Ezra wasn’t going to be a threat, and if all the other Wolfe’s were like this, she really didn’t have anything to worry about. It wouldn’t take much to best this manufactured pompous trust fund, in fact, it might even be fun. Valentina was harder to suss out. She was more composed, aware of herself and not looking to draw every eye in the room to her. However, looking as she did, that would be a difficult undertaking. Valentina had the manicured Instagram influencer look done so flawlessly, Nora couldn’t help but find herself a tiny bit jealous. If she was going to have to look over her shoulder for anybody, it would definitely be her.

Nora sipped on her drink, watching on in interest as one of the other guests, an older latino, tried to chide their host. While completely dumb to paint a target on your back this soon, she couldn’t help but admire the tenacity. Then again, the more attention he’d draw to himself, the less that would be on her. And for once in her life, Nora was okay with the idea of less attention. That was, until she could figure out why exactly she had been brought her here. As the rest of the guests started filtering out of the room, Nora finished off her drink with a healthy swig, before exiting as well, on the hunt for her own room and some much-needed privacy to come up with a game plan.

The package sitting on her bed as she walked into the bedroom of her dreams drew all of her attention. The last time she had received a mysterious package she had found files that no one had the right of having. That was enough to get her here, so her curiosity was peaked to what other kind of surprise might be thrown at her. Her lips pursed in annoyance as she looked down at the elegant metal mask sitting atop a pile of grey tissue paper. If the Wolfe’s thought they were being clever with the insinuation, Nora just found it a little too on the nose. At least it was a fox she’d be masquerading as, and not a full animal of prey. Still, the symbolism wasn’t lost on her. They were hunting her and they were more than happy to make a game out of it. Perhaps not, and it was just a coincidence that allowed Nora’s paranoia to run away with itself. But they had another thing coming if they thought she’d just roll over and take it.

Nora wasn’t sure why they were throwing a masquerade party. It seemed silly since all of the guests had already met each other. It wouldn’t be difficult to figure out who was under each disguise. She could hear as the party was being set up though, and realized they might not be the only ones invited to this thing. That meant the possibility of others being in on whatever the Wolfe’s had planned. She might not be able to get anything from the two brats that had already introduced themselves, but party goers, especially drunk party goers would be easier to pry information from.

Knowing that she was going to be doing her best to chat up whoever might fall for her wicked smile or long tanned legs, Nora decided on the shorter of her semi-formal dresses, paid for by the Wolfes. The long lace sleeves gave a modicum of decency, but the deep sweetheart neckline, tight bodycon material, and short hemline didn’t leave much to the imagination. She put her hair in soft curls but opted for a more daring bold red lip and dark winged liner. Donning her favorite black heels, Nora she looked stunning, but she felt dangerous and powerful. All of which she would need if she was going to get any of the Wolfe’s other guests to talk to her.

She slipped on her mask, elegantly pulling tendrils of her hair to frame her face before heading for the elevator. Nora wasn’t sure if she was early or late, but none of the other guests seemed to be milling around the hallways. Not wanting to risk the stairs in her heels, she clicked the button as she steeled herself for whatever hell might come next.

The day had barely started, and it had already been so eventful, whether that was good or bad for Marco was yet to be seen. Although, Marco didn’t mind being watched even if it wasn’t the hill he should die on so quickly into the game. Of course, that’s what it was to Marco, had it not been a game there would have been some clarity by now. Regardless of what transpired, Marco felt compelled to bathe himself. Not just to freshen up for the party, but also to scrub away the grime he felt invaded his skin from interacting with the Wolfe’s.

Upon entering his room, the first thing he noticed was the Wolfe’s did in fact not spare any expense in emulating his actual room. There was an alcove for a personal mini bar lined with his favorite brown liquors and Mexican cerveza. A record player with a substantial collection of vinyl’s sat adjacent to his bed on the opposite wall. The only thing that did leave him puzzled, but delightfully surprised, was the black and white San Marcos blanket etched with tigers stretched across his mattress. It was a nice touch, hell maybe some white people were culturally enriched.

Walking over to the turntable, Marco dropped the needle as he began to strip off his clothes. It wasn’t until the lyrics to Stayin’ Alive started to play that he decided to turn off the cryptic omen. The ample time allotted to them prior to their evening engagement allowed Marco to soak with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other. Where would he have been had he not received that death sentence or rather briefcase and envelope? Probably the same just a lot less fancy and with no party to attend to unless you counted group therapy as a pity party.

Marco had gone three quarters a way down a bottle and half a pack deep when his pruning skin signaled it was time to get out. His eyes were fixated on the eggshell white box that housed the mask he was supposed to wear to the festivities. He wondered if it occurred to them that they were all already wearing their own masks so why have two? His fingers traced the top of the box before removing the top to reveal a Venetian Coyote mask inlaid with colors of gold and black. The patterns within the mask were just as exquisite as the color. Anyone would have been ecstatic to receive such a gift, yet Marco felt a lump in his throat as his mind raced back to the note he received at the airport. The game was very real as were the consequences of playing.

It took a minute before Marco regained his composure, never taking his eyes off the mask. He fetched his outfit from his closet which consisted of a dapper Alpaca and Mohair-blend blazer, Knitted Virgin wool polo shirt, black wool and Mohair-blend tuxedo trousers, all accompanied with brown wingtips. The last piece to the puzzle was the mask; slipping it on Marco could feel a shroud of secrecy, but also a hint of truth. He was hiding in plain sight, which only seemed to heighten the stakes for tonight. Before heading out Marco retrieved some last-minute accessories and the handkerchief Heather had left behind, Cinderella’s glass slipper.

He didn’t wait for nor did he approach any of his neighbors on his floor, instead he made his way to the elevator alone. It appeared someone else had the same idea as the elevator stopped on level two. When the doors opened, Marco perked up after seeing the ravishing femme fatale dressed in all black enter in front of him. While it might have been a trap, he couldn’t help but find himself succumbing to her intoxicating allure.

“Going down?” he asked with a slick smile and charming tone.

Nora quirked up her eyebrow at the innuendo, looking up from the nails she had been picking at before nonchalantly entering the elevator. She didn’t miss the way the man perked up when the doors had opened, she knew exactly what kind of effect she had on men. However, behind the mask she wasn’t sure she could exactly place which one of the guests it actually was. Still, if she was fishing for information, there was no reason she couldn't start now. She offered the man a smirk, not bothering to hit the close elevator button. “If I’m going down, then I’m taking you with me.” With a playful wink, she turned her gaze back towards the front of the elevator. Nora stood close to the man, their arms just a hair’s breadth away from touching. “So I see the Wolfe’s have an affinity for animals. I wonder, why exactly a coyote? You’re not a close relative of our generous hosts now are you?”

Marco wasn’t one who let opportunities like this slip through his fingers often. Men were dogs yes, but all dogs go to heaven. Taking note of all her seductive features, Marco couldn’t help but struggle to take everything in at once. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep” parrying her daring opener. If looks could kill he definitely would have been dead by now, the wink was just the final nail in the coffin. This woman was quite a ways off from the tall asian he was speaking to just before, something a little more his speed. Their masks were reminiscent of cats and dogs, so there was natural tension forming. She didn’t back down, only playing closer to the fire as she took her position dangerously close to Marco. “I’m afraid not my dear, coyotes tend to hunt alone while wolves are pack animals. What’s a sly fox like you doing here anyways? I’m sure we can spend our time better elsewhere than whatever this party they have planned” Marco said as his hand bumped into hers.

Under different circumstances Nora might have found the man’s quick wit charming. She always enjoyed someone with a silver tongue, someone who didn’t melt under her spell immediately. The chase was half the fun, and with this man, she wasn’t sure who was chasing who. But she was focused on one thing, and one thing only. Until she knew what kind of debauchery the Wolfes had in store for her, she’d have to stay on track. It wasn’t until he spoke did she pick up on the underlying accent, recognizing it immediately as the guest who had flirted shamelessly with Heather during their little meet and greet. Luckily the doors of the elevator opened with a small ding. Boldly, she leaned over to whisper into his ear, her breath tickling the skin on his neck. “Don’t be in such a rush.Waiting is half the fun...” with that she took the man’s hand, leading the pair outside of the elevator and into the hall of mirrors. The reflection off of the mirrors facing each other was distracting and reminded Nora of a funhouse, especially with the dim lights only illuminated by the candlelight. Despite herself, and the situation she found herself in, Nora couldn’t help but feel her excitement rise. If nothing else, the Wolfes knew how to throw one hell of a party. “Well then, care to join me for a drink?” she asked over her shoulder at the man she was leading along.

The chime of the elevator broke the silence, how could he forget? All he had to do was press the emergency button and the elevator would have stopped there. Although in an estate like this, there must have been contingencies set in place to prevent that. Marco still had no knowledge of who was under the fox mask, part of him didn’t want to know. Her breath sent shivers down his body turning his skin into goosebumps. While his tongue tried to catch up with his mind, her hand enveloped his as she tugged him out of the elevator. It seemed as though his night was just beginning, an extravagant beginning to the start of the end. With so many mirrors surrounding them, Marco couldn’t help but notice every angle and blindspot solicited by the reflections. “So is this the part where you ask me how your dress looks?” already planning his response ahead of time. “Sure, do you like your men like you like your liquor?” asking a question of his own.

Nora admired the man’s persistence. It seemed like he wasn’t willing to let go of their little game. Not one to lose, and hoping she might get him tangled up enough to spill some information, she stopped from leading him down the hallway towards the rest of the party. She turned and faced him with another smirk. “Well… I do like my liquor neat most of the time.” she said, taking her time to slowly straighten out his collar, letting her fingers just barely graze the edge of his neck as she looked up at him from under her lashes. “However, when its good quality and I’m feeling a bit more dangerous, I do like my liquor hard.”

The lights and load murmurs could be heard and seen from just out of range, they were getting close to the main floor now. The fox had other plans, not wanting the game of cat and mouse to end just yet. Again she attacked his skin, this time with the touch of her fingers on his neck. It wasn’t enough, she certainly had a knack for teasing which left him voracious for something more. “I think I have something like that back in my room, but I tend to like my drinks both shaken and stirred” he said as he took his finger and pushed a stray curl out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “So which one of the 3 girls are you? I didn’t get your name...just half your face” he asked trying to forage for some information.

“I’m disappointed in your skills of observation. Not very useful for a potential partner to deal with the Wolfes. I’m obviously not the skittish blonde...what was her name,” Nora said, pretending to think. “Haley I think… And I never got the other little girl’s name, then again I doubt you did either. You were very busy protecting the honor of our cruise director,” she quipped sarcastically. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other soon enough. I’m Nora. Nora Bellwood. And you’d be?”

“You wound me with your words, so quick to disarm me” Marco said “I concede though, I was distracted by that Ezra character.” The mention of heather triggered his memory from earlier and the handkerchief he had tucked within his blazer. “I don’t think there’s much honor there” Marco said testing the waters, wondering if she would pursue his bit of knowledge. “Nora, that’s a pretty name if only I could match your face with the name” he said playfully, “I’m Marco, Marco Ronquillo” laying on the accent thick when rolling his r’s.

At the mention of the flamboyant Wolfe, Nora felt herself scowling just a bit, but she was intrigued by what he had said about Heather’s apparent lack of honor. “And what makes you think Miss Vandertulip isn’t as principled as she’d have us believe?” she asked. His name didn’t ring any bells off for Nora just as Haley’s hadn’t. It seems as if they were all really strangers after all.

Marco caught her scowl no matter how small it was, “That’s a new look, it still suits you.” She did pick up on what he was putting down, “For as professional as she is I don’t think she knows how to separate work from pleasure. Guess that’s what happens when you’re too high strung in this environment” his lips were loose, only to see if he could trust this woman.

Nora was surprised at this new revelation. If he was insinuating what she thought he was insinuating then she wasn’t the only one with skeletons in her closet. Originally she had planned on prying whatever information she could out of the other guests before leaving them behind to fend for themselves. Having an ally, at least for the time being, might actually be the safer move. “Well Marco, I might have been too quick to judge you after all. With secrets like that I might have to keep you around for more than your good looks,” she said. Nora thought about revealing what was in her clutch, but there were too many prying eyes around now. She didn’t want to know what happened to the guests who didn’t play by the rules. The next time they were alone, however, she’d let him in on it.

A waiter interrupted the two, carrying a tray of bubbly in glass flutes. “From the actual Champagne region of France,” he says from behind his mask. Nora doesn’t hesitate to take a flute, raising it up to Marco with a wink. “Too a fruitful future partnership,” she said before downing the entire thing in one long drink. It was a party after all. She replaced the empty glass, grabbing two more with a nod towards the waiter. Handing the second glass to Marco, she’d take this next one a bit slower, something to sip on as they entered the rest of the party.

It wasn’t the place or time to discuss further secrets. The closer they got to the main room the less they could speak so freely. “I have a few other tricks up my sleeve, I hope you’re not just a pretty face yourself” he said as they were the first two to make it to the party. Marco took a flute for himself and toasted her glass, he was more skeptical about the champagne that she was. While it was impressive to see a girl with such vigor for drinking, Marco couldn’t help but stop her from downing the second flute. “I think you should slow down, champagne always has a way of sneaking up on you” he said keeping his own down by his waist.

[Jade113]

---

Ezra Wolfe. A welcome, albeit somewhat annoying distraction, Better than letting her flub of a social interaction sit in silence. She avoids picking up a drink, holding her briefcase close and watching carefully as the boy prances about. Not only was he clearly born in wealth, cradled in wealth, blanketed and showered and fed with wealth, but he was also just a complete showman. Normally that combination works, a little class to the show, but for him... not at all. Heather, once a bit grating in her own right, seemed to reel him in just a bit, which was enough for Haley to mentally thank the poor woman for having to put up with him.

Then again, this was all just a show, anyway. All the guests likely had sins hanging above their heads. She was no different. Enough money and blackmail will get anyone to come someplace like this, but why... these people? A nanny, even? Nobody important, really, but not anyone completely forgettable. If it had been a group of lonely homeless people, with no family, friends, or contacts, then this would make at least some sense, no matter how suspicious. So what was the plan here...? Haley shook her head as welcomings continued, looking down at the briefcase held over her hips, as if hiding her vulnerabilities subconsciously. She never was any good at socializing, but now, with what's been thrust over her?

Guests continued to talk, but Haley was done with conversation. She couldn't think straight, for obvious reasons, so after a few minutes of awkward standing around, the blonde in her black business suit hurried towards a staircase. She wasn't the first to leave, but she'd make sure not to hang around, dress shoes' clacking muffled by fine carpets. This place was a bit too rich. Didn't matter. Haley made it to her room and had to put in effort to avoid slamming the door behind her. She could do this. She'd have to do this. For those that she cared about, the truth... would have to stay here.

---

“I guess you’re the first.”

The first for what? Or was he being ironic, since Brandon was the very last to arrive? The unwarranted comment was successful in putting him on edge. Brandon held an old fashioned in his hand, untouched at the moment of the Wolfes’ arrival, and he took the drink as a shot when Ezra began prowling the room. His hands shook as he placed the glass back onto the table.The Wolfe boy was bright as a spotlight, composed of a gaudy fire that was rather unappealing to Brandon’s taste. Gross. Still, there was something to be said about being unapologetically yourself.

They were part of the elitist class. Ezra was soft and feminine for a man, and though he could deal out punishment, he would crack without political influence and power. Here Ezra was in control, here he could flaunt without fear of consequence, and so he owned the room. His sister was beautiful, and if Ezra was a spotlight, she was a room of dimly lit candles. Dark and exotic. She was captivating, and yet, he was unsurprised by her. She reminded Brandon of every other heiress he had met during his life: hot as hell, but (more than likely) manipulative as fuck. She flaunted attitude for no reason other than wanting to be a strong, independent woman.

Well, such was the day and age. It wasn’t easy for women anymore, having to balance the traditional female role with the pressures of third wave feminism. Especially when you had everything to live up to… her parents being successful billionaires. He could relate to that, at least. It was a really tough position for a woman to be in. The societal expectations from both ends of the spectrum cancelled each other out: the toxic end of feminism shamed women who valued traditional roles, and those who chose to become career women harbored guilt and emotional distress for neglecting their families.

He was so focused on the Wolfe children that he’d hardly taken notice of the other visitors. People were beginning to file out of the room - thank goodness, he could feel himself becoming more and more of an asshole by the second. Ezra was extremely irritating, which was icing on the shitty cake of being here at all. Brandon was eager to get back to his luggage, maybe relax a bit before dinner. Maybe some whiskey would calm him down.

He watched the altercation between the Wolfe son and the hispanic looking man briefly before making his exit and walking towards the third floor. His knee was starting to throb, so he decided to take the elevator. It would be wise to get to know the other patrons. They were all in this together, after all, and there were more of them than there were Wolfe. Just… he’d make more of an effort at dinner. He wasn’t feeling himself right now.

---

A long, warm jetted bath with plenty of shampoo and conditioner later, Haley dressed slowly in preparation for the night's... 'welcome party.' If there was some kind of scheme, which there obviously was, then it would likely show up tonight. It mattered what she looked like, and given the strange, colorful hat and mask, it would not be hard to... stand out. Haley pulled out her formal dress, which oddly matched, as if the mask had been made for her, and slowly pulled it on. With her ensemble together, complete with cherry red flats and matching lipstick, Haley was... mostly prepared for what was to come. It wasn't exactly her style, this much red, but... it would help remind her of why she's here.

Sighing into the mirror and brushing the hair flowing out of her hat, Haley looked back, towards the door. It was time.

---

A double shot of whiskey did just the trick. Brandon took his time in the shower, skin flushing slight pink from the heat. The liquor lulled him into a state of ease, curbing the worst of his anxieties. He could forget those memories from that horrific night, at least for a little while.

This event was obviously some kind of a trick - his gut told him to stay away from the party this evening, that something bad was going to happen. And, like mother always said, only a fool ignored their instincts. ’Well, mom, looks like you raised the biggest fool in the family. Brandon was going to play right into their hand.

He wasn’t too worried. Caldwells were notorious for their ability to squeeze their way out of trouble. He would embrace the role of the fool, making his mask and attire all the more appropriate.

It was time to go. Brandon swallowed the two pills in the palm of his hand and chased it down with water. The door clicked shut behind him and echoed through the hall, ominous.

---

Haley stepped outside of her room with a nervous, conceited humming. There was no tune, no real purpose or rhythm, just a constant, quiet hum of anxiety. As a lawyer, she should be dressing more appropriately. She'd brought along her suit jacket along with her dress, in the hopes of wearing that most of her time instead. And yet... the mask fit her dress, and would look out of place combined with her jacket, so it almost felt as if she was being forced into discomfort. Intentional...? Maybe.

She shook her head, walking towards the staircase. She never was one for elevators, anyway, and especially not if it was just one floor down. She paused as the smell of whiskey hit her, however, just as she reached a side stairway. Coming from the third floor was one of the guests, a man she hadn't bothered to get the name of. In fact... so far she only knew one of the guests, and maybe it would be a good idea to meet more. Get in good. Haley smiled beyond her extravagant mask, following the man with her eyes until they we close enough to not make talking... awkward. "Another guest here, right...? I like the mask, real 'yin yang' vibes."

Brandon was feeling good. The whiskey left him feeling pleasant and warm, a light (VERY light) buzz that tickled his senses. ’Don’t take it too far tonight, Brandon.’You could say he had a very delicate equilibrium to maintain. Not drunk, just drunk enough. Sober enough to think. It would’ve been difficult NOT to notice the beautiful blonde standing at the end of the hall. She was bright enough to attract the attention of every man in the room - she certainly popped in contrast to Brandon, the penguin man. “Thanks. You look good yourself. Red suits you well.” he paused for a moment, before he could make some awkward ‘oh, so you’re also taking the stairs, we have so much in common’ comment. He should really make an effort to get to know the other guests. If they were as screwed as he was, maybe some of them would be willing to collaborate. What was the saying… two minds are better than one? “You look ready to party. Are you looking forward to this as much as I am?”

“Mmm. I like red, but I usually prefer yellows and blacks, if I’m honest,” Haley chuckled quietly, brushing her golden locks back behind her and carefully walking towards the stairs. As they walked, they came to a mirrored hall, but Haley was more focused on the future than the man beside her. “Oh, I suppose you could say that I’m looking forward to it, yes. I’ve certainly been thinking about it. Haley Black, it’s a pleasure.” Not enough of a pleasure for Haley to have extended her hand, though, apparently, as she left both hands firmly at her sides while the two walked.

“Brandon Caldwell. Likewise,” Did she seem uneasy, or was he making stuff up? “I can’t blame you. What were you doing before all this?” The gentle hum of a piano in the background lulled him into a state of contentment.

Haley stepped down and into the great room, her eyes scanning the buffet tables and stopping on each member of the Wolfe family. She smiled behind her hat and mask, looking to Brandon. “My job, mainly. Being a lawyer isn’t busywork. In fact, I would have much preferred not to come here, if I’m honest. But… It’s acceptable enough.” Haley paused as a member of the staff offered champagne, smiling and shaking her head. “I’m sure mister… Caldwell here would enjoy some, but not for me. Not tonight, thank you.”

“Oh, I see. You’re used to being on the go all the time. I’m guessing the entire wait and see dynamic of this trip must be driving you up a wall,” he observed. It was the same for him, in case the liquor gave it away. His days in the military were far behind him - further than his days from medical school, anyway - and that feeling of doing nothing was enough to send his anxiety into overdrive. If he let it. “I’m a PA, so if you hit your funny bone in the conga line, you know where to find me. Or maybe you’ll need my help with something else.” He turned an eye to the champagne, smiling politely. “Thank you very much.” He held the glass in his hand but it remained untouched. There was no reason to be rude, but he’d had enough to drink for the moment.

[Grimoire Gaming]

---

---

Once semi-safely behind closed doors, Maya let out a long, exasperated sigh and rested the back of her head against the solid door behind her. Andrew seemed nice enough. Polite and cordial… normal, despite the curious predicament they were both in. Then again, she considered herself pretty average, and she was still here… so maybe the other guests were no different. They were just a bunch of normal people, stuck in a very unusual situation.

Her lids opened and Maya’s chocolate eyes began to scan the ceiling that her head was angled up towards. Were there cameras? Just how paranoid did she have to be in this seemingly beautiful house of horrors? Not having noticed anything out of the ordinary, Maya began to take in the rest of the room. The decor was tailored perfectly to her taste, more so than her own bedroom back home — most likely because these people had the money to truly decorate, while she did not. Gorgeous hues of reds, oranges, and golden yellows painted the bedspread, curtains, and walls. Maya loved the colors of a brilliant summer sunset, and this room embodied that aesthetic.

Despite how creepy it was that it seemed like this room had been designed specifically for her, the decor was soothing. Maya found herself breathing out a relaxing breath, and then two, and three. Eventually she made her way to the bed and sat down on it to pull her clothing and other belongings out of her luggage. Before unzipping the suitcase, a box on the end table beside the bed caught her eye. She reached over and opened it to reveal an extravagant navy blue mask adorned with shining crystals and peacock feathers. There was a note indicating that it was meant to be worn to the welcoming party at seven. A masquerade? She’d always wanted to attend one, but… perhaps under different circumstances. Like voluntarily, for example.

Maya set the mask back on the end table for a moment and went about settling herself into her new home away from home for the week. She unpacked her undergarments and pajamas and stored them in the dresser drawers, along with some of her more wrinkle-resistant casual and sportswear. The rest of her clothing was hung up carefully in the spacious walk-in closet, including the minimalistically simple designer dress and fabulous shoes that she intended to wear to tonight's party. Paid for on the Wolfe’s dime, of course. The red dress was elegant but muted, because Maya wanted the aztec print shoes to do all of the talking.

Following the sorting out of clothing, Maya set her jewelry and make-up out on the mirrored vanity desk. There was a separate work desk in the room were the student arranged her art supplies — storing the sketchbooks and color media in the desk drawers away from sunlight, and placing her pencils and ink pens in the decorative jar atop the work surface. With that, the finishing touches were complete. If she set aside all of the background that got her here, Maya could almost pretend this place was a super classy dorm room. It could almost feel like home.

Feeling much more comfortable and at peace, Maya set about getting ready for the party. She took a deep long soak in the tub located in her en suite bathroom. A tub with jets, mind you, because this place wasn’t extra enough. It wasn’t until Maya’s head bobbed off in a doze and her skin was pruned that she startled awake and finished her bath. She continued her coiffing by drying and setting her hair in big, soft, romantic curls and crafting a sultry brown and gold smokey eye with winged eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man. A barely there nude coral lip and a set of shining gold bangles polished off the look and she was finally party ready.

Tying the navy peacock mask on, Maya realized she probably could have done without the makeup, but at least she would still look good if it came time to take it off. Without any idea for what might come next, Maya headed down the flight of stairs to the designated meeting area for the party. There were far more guests than she expected. With their masks on, Maya hardly recognized anyone from earlier, but she assumed that the smaller group standing by an apparent staff member offering champagne might be them.

Maya took a place standing by them and nodded politely when the waiter offered her a glass of bubbly. She graciously took a flute in one hand but did not immediately take a sip. It might be on account of all of the seminars she had to attend in college, but Maya wasn’t keen on drinking a beverage that she didn’t pour herself nor watch being poured. Plus, she hadn’t ruled out this whole thing being an elaborate sex trafficking ring yet, so the drink really could be roofied. Better safe than sorry.

[Chai]

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_{Post Title: True Colors__✿__Location: Wolfe Island - Great Room (Welcome Party)}
^{Interaction: Everyone.}

---

Playing dress-up had been one of Ezra's favorite things to do since he was a child. It had nothing to do with being gay but everything to do with expressing oneself, and in some cases, becoming someone else. But tonight, he was no one but himself. Ezra Wolfe in all his glory, taking the world by storm. Looking at himself in one of the mirrors on the first-floor hallway, he couldn't help but admire his own ingenuity at that night's outfit: a white Armani suit with a black-and-grey patterned waistcoat and matching white dress shoes. His bleach blonde hair was tousled like normal, but he managed to tame the curls enough so that they peeked just above his own mask. The mask was simple; porcelain white, just like his suit, and largely blank except for the addition of an extra set of eyes, a nose, and lips on either side of his own face. Every part of this designer costume was deliberate and carefully planned with purpose. He had never been the type to run from his sins, and this was his way of being unabashedly unapologetic about it. In fact, the mask itself was acknowledging his very nature, and he wore it with pride.

He lifted his Rolex watch, but he'd looked at it so much already that he knew what time it was. Fifteen minutes until 7:00 PM. On cue, a sweet piano melody filled the home, and out of his peripheral vision, he saw the guests begin to pour inside the house. He didn't know all of them, but he did know they were special and valuable resources for the six guests of the mansion. They'd need to step out of their comfort zone and interact with those around them, but whoever managed to do so would likely be a step ahead of the game. His game. Well, their game. His and Valentina's. And in this world, information was gold, the almost literal lifeline that could mean the difference between success and failure.

"Not there," he suddenly snapped at a worker who dropped an open chest of what appeared to be full of gold coins and human arms, the hands contorted in distorted positions as if reaching out in a cry of help. Both fake, of course. Or were they? It was hard to tell when the Wolfe's were this rich, and money could buy any quality. "Didn't I have specific instruction on the decor? Can you not read, or are you just fucking stupid?" Ezra continued, glaring daggers into him before it melted into something more of a scowl.

The worker stopped and picked the chest back up, muttering a quiet 'sorry' and staring at a distant spot above Ezra's shoulder. Unlike the quiet, calm aloofness of his older sister, Ezra wore his emotions on his sleeve—love was love, pain was pain, and anger was most definitely anger. And it was a scalding, vicious one at that. But even that meager apology seemed to placate him, and he offered a small smile with cold eyes. "Place it in the middle of the dessert tables," the younger Wolfe sibling finally said, "Like a centerpiece. It's lovely."

The worker nodded and walked away, lugging the chest back to the great room. Ezra watched him round the corner before checking his watch once more and finally making his way to the party. 7:10 PM. Fashionably late as always, but earlier than his sister. God only knew what she was up to.

It was there that he spotted the small crowd of his guests, one person missing, and he sauntered forward to greet them once more. His mask was covering his face, but the unmistakable tufts of blonde peeked above the porcelain "I see you're all here in one piece," he joked, though he wasn't quite sure they'd find it as funny as he did. "Not so bad, right? Fun party, fun decor, fun music..." The sounds of the gentle piano strings thrummed in the air, and he made a face behind the mask, his lips down turning for a brief moment before a wide grin returned. "Well, music gets better later on. After all the old bitches leave."

Ezra laughed and grabbed a champagne flute from the waiter standing nearby, downing the thing like it was water. And then a second one. "Don't let this expensive alcohol go to waste," he mock chided them, then sent the waiter on his way. "Anyway, please enjoy. Let your hair down, loosen the tie—but not really, since it's part of the dress code. Have some dinner and drinks. The foie gras is to die for, but so are the chicken tenders, if that's your thing." He nodded towards the buffet of food lined with kitchen staff that were also dressed in all black and wolf masks. "And feel free to talk with people. Anyone... everyone... you're all the guests of honor tonight. But if you'll excuse me..."

Something or someone seemed to catch his attention elsewhere, and he let out an excited squeal before he and his voice slipped away through the crowd.

[kimione]

Virginia Wolfe

Virginia Wolfe prepared herself for what she promises to be one of the most exciting games of her life and how can it not be? She has done her research, found some truly interesting people, who'll apparently do anything to keep their pasts, their mistakes buried, afterall she has enough compelling evidence to bring their carefully built lives to complete ruins at her mere whims and fancies.

She smiled, relishing in the absolute power. The power to play God.
But not the puppetmaster.

There is a fine distinction between the two.. Human beings are fascinating creatures and left to their own devices, often overthrows your expectations, especially when there is a little bit of fear and self preservation mixed in..
And this particular group has plenty of reasons to fear.. Fear her.. Even if they don't know that fully well. Yet.

She took in the view from the balcony. The large ballroom was splendidly decorated to suit her tastes, with Beethoven's classic moonlight sonata playing in the background. Enigmatic with an air of foreboding.. A foreshadowing, perhaps of the many horrors to come.. She idly wondered how many had paid careful attention to the island's history she had specifically instructed Heather to narrate. She guessed not many. The grandeur and splendour of the mansion often puts people out of their elements at first glance. They falter and get distracted or a few self absorbed ones merely brush it aside as insignificant details, unworthy of their notice.
Well, their loss.. It just puts them behind in the game and every move counts here, cause there can only be one winner.

Her eyes scanned the diverse assortment of players, wondering if she could correctly predict this game's winner. It wasn't difficult for her to recognise them in the crowd, not because she had carefully chosen the six masks herself, but something about their aura radiated that delicious fear. And how hard they were trying to conceal it with skepticism or mere awkwardness instead.
An amusing bunch, nonetheless.

. And everything becomes tenfold amusing when you factor in the devil himself, her son, Ezra Wolfe.. No, not the devil.. The one everyone should watch out for is her daughter. Valentina takes, almost eerily, after the matriarch of the Wolfe bloodline and she is truly a force to be reckoned with. Apparently, Valentina intends to make a late appearance, Virginia duly noted before settling her gaze on her wayward son.. Ezra was unabashedly being himself, exuding charm and confidence as he addressed the guests.

"Everything is in order, Ma'am",
Heather's voice cut through her reverie. Her presence loomed behind her back, rapt at attention,
"I'll be downstairs in a moment", Virginia replied in a chiped tone as she felt her presence recede behind her back. She was very good at this. Knowing when to make her presence felt and when to fall back into the shadows. She couldn't have asked for a more efficient organiser.

Virginia spared a last sweeping glance at the guests at large, before donning her mask and turning her back to them.
It's time to set things in motion.