Addressed; @daguerreopher
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The Madame Dauphine, Marie Antoinette, was never accustomed to an environment so barren and stripped of life. The air, overwhelmingly dense and thick, felt suffocating to stand in—even to breathe in. In some strange, inexplicable way, it had felt as though the entirety of the world around her had ceased to exist when she stepped through the impossibly towering doors of the manor. Her head sways left to right curiously, taking in the aged windows that gazed back down upon her, obscured by heavy curtains that protected the overcast sky just behind—the quiet only aids in disturbing her, completely alone and feeling unlike herself. Her head falls to the floor, she swallows, and she veers around back from the doors through which she came. Her arms outstretch and grapple to the large, cold metal door handles that seemed to be rusting.
Marie pulls, once. When the doors refuse to pry open the first time, she tries again, utilizing what little strength she has in her body. She huffs dryly when her attempts fail, releasing the handles and staring down at her palms, as if they might've offered an explanation. She turns an unsure glance over her shoulder, allowing her arms to fall daftly against the wide-hipped pannier of her dress, before turning once more. Her eyes widen at her surroundings, utterly dumbfounded by the predicament she's found herself in. Her heels take a few steps forward on instinct, leering forward and scanning the endless hallways that were shrouded in darkness. Finally, she lets out a breath.
“Hello?” She calls out into the darkness, half expecting silence, and in a way hoping that there’d be no response, rooted in some deep childish fear of what might linger in the places she can’t see. Even still, she waits, eyebrows curled slightly in wry concern.
Another night, another dreary, exhausting day of matches at this accursed manor. At least, it seemed to be night already. Sometimes one couldn't tell the difference between dusk and a cloudy day at Oletus.
Not that it made much difference. Those infernal matches happened at any time of day, and wasn't like many residents saw a reason to leave the actual building outside of a match.
Joseph certainly didn't. And tonight was no exception.
He'd spent most of his time in the grand dining hall this evening, eating a small meal by himself as the others went on and on about the day's matches. Joseph had poured himself a cup of tea when a strange sound drifted through the room.
The sound grew when he left, and as he walked, Joseph could pick out that it was jostling metal.
When he finally stepped in the manor, he heard the door open. He walked up to the banister to see a lady stepping in from the brightness outside. The shape of the dress told him she was at least a bourgeois type. Probably higher class, but it was dark, she was coming in from a brighter-lit outside, and his sight wasn't what it used to be.
"Oh, so it was you causing that ruckus." Calling his tone calm would be an understatement. One couldn't be much else when their voice had no emotion.
Joseph took a sip of his sweetened tea. Then, he held it out to the side. The cup stayed right where it was as he let go of it.
"You must be a new hunter," he said just as casually, laying his hand on the banister. "I haven't heard of you causing a riot in matches, and survivors rarely find themselves on this part of the manor. Much less on their first day.
"Congratulations on being invited to this Hell."
