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Posted: Thu Apr 15, 2010 1:13 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 15, 2010 1:15 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 15, 2010 1:18 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 15, 2010 4:36 pm
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Posted: Sat Apr 17, 2010 6:19 am
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Posted: Sat Apr 17, 2010 6:55 am
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Posted: Sat Apr 17, 2010 12:27 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 18, 2010 5:52 am
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Posted: Sun Apr 18, 2010 6:19 am
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Posted: Tue Apr 27, 2010 3:12 pm
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NoLifeKing66 ZombieApocalypseSurvivor "Wow, that's...interesting.," Richie said in a purposely exagheratted tone as he stood there, staring at the house, "Well, Let's not keep the stench waiting," He said, hobbling across the street towards the Quarters, "You coming, or do you want to use that beautiful singing voice to earn some money?" He said in a joking manner, but meaning what he said about the voice. (Quarters escription?) (We're already in the Quarter, which I described in my last post. We've arrived at the house we'll be staying in. That being said, Jean-Mark did not tell Maryse where the house was, so I'm simply saying he gave her an address and a key to get inside. I hope that's alright with you.) Maryse approached the house. Reaching into her back pocket once again, she took out an old brass key. She admired it for a moment, wondering how old it was, how old the house was. Then she inserted it into the keyhole and turned it. The lock clicked. Maryse tried to push the door open, but she couldn't. She threw herself against the door as hard as she thought she could without making too much noise. She threw herself against the door again and again, but it wouldn't give, wouldn't even budge. She threw herself against the door one last time, forgoing all subtlety, and the door gave with a loud crash, banging into the wall behind it. She knew then that the house was old enough to be a pain in the a**. "Come on," she said to Richie, and disappeared inside. The house was Victorian in style, and incredibly dark on the inside, even though it was broad daylight outside. Maryse moved forward as cautiously as she could, careful where she placed her feet, lest she run into or trip over something. Most importantly, the house was empty. Maryse was more than a little surprised to find that, in spite of the circumstances, no one else was living there. She figured that would change, in time. But for now, she was happy to have the house to herself. Well, mostly to herself.
Maryse continued to explore the house. It was a Queen Anne style house, probably over 100 years old. It had both a steeply pitched roof and an irregular shape, with a dominant front-facing gable, patterned shingles, cutaway bay windows, and other devices, all of which were intended to avoid a smooth-walled appearance. It also had an asymmetrical facade with a one-story, full-width porch that extended along both side walls. It had long since fallen into disrepair. It seemed as if the dull, grayish paint was the only thing holding the house together. Maryse wondered whether or not they should attempt to fix it up.
She stepped into a sitting room, a dark and dusty space with a fireplace and a lot of heavy, dark, wood furniture. Six straight-backed chairs stood against the wall. A round table with a velvet cloth sat in the middle of the room, a horsehair-stuffed armchair crouching behind it. She examined the fireplace. It was originally black slate with gold inlay, but now there were pieces missing and damage from when a wood-burning stove had been installed and removed, and it was covered in a thick layer of dust. She tried to blow it off, but the dust was too heavy. She had a lot of cleaning to do, she decided. A lot of cleaning.
Maryse left the sitting room and proceeded up a staircase. She was more than a little worried that she would fall through, so she proceeded slowly and carefully. The floorboards creaked loudly under her weight. There was no way anyone was ever going to sneak up or down these stairs, she thought.
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Posted: Tue Apr 27, 2010 5:18 pm
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Posted: Mon May 10, 2010 7:57 pm
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Posted: Wed May 12, 2010 12:47 pm
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Posted: Fri May 14, 2010 1:38 pm
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Posted: Fri May 14, 2010 1:39 pm
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