The Dagger

Discussion in 'ONE ON ONES IN CHARACTER' started by PoetLore, Oct 16, 2016.

  1. Fionas castle.jpg
    Fiona MacDonald was just about to arrive in Scotland, and her light green eyes were were sparkling with awe and wonder as she saw the land below from her window in the jet. It was so lush and green and she was more than a little excited to meet with the barrister about her inheritance. yes it was a bit odd that seven others had declined to accept it, but she was not going to turn down a castle under any circumstances. She heard the 'fasten your seatbelts' signal and saw the flashing reminder and straightened in her seat and buckled in. clutching her hands together in nervousness, it seems forever before the pane touched down and taxied to their appointed gate. She mentally willed it to go faster, knowing that was ridiculous, but she couldn't seem to contain her eagerness.

    As soon as they stopped and the remain seated lights turned off, she was up and filing off the plane. she stood at the baggage claim and waited, for an interminably long amount of time it seemed with her arms crossed and her foot taping. FINALLY, the bags began appearing and she waited until she saw her bags and then grabbed both off the conveyor and extended to handle of the larger one and placed the smaller atop it and wrapped the bungee around it to hold it there. Tipping the bags she started to walk toward the main concourse of the airport and looked around. The barrister had promised to send someone to collect her.

    A young man holding a sign that had her name hastily written on it was standing near the exit with a look of utter boredom on his face. He looked like what she expected Scottish people to look like, red hair, freckles and a bit scruffy. she approached him and smiled, her own red hair and green eyes and very fair skin, weren't much different than his own but she saw him as completely different for some reason. "Hello," she said, "I am Fiona MacDonald."

    He nodded, "O' course yeh are," he said and tossed the sign into the trash next to him, "Folla meh," he said and turned and started off.

    She blinked at his back but followed him. Weren't drivers supposed to take your bags?" she wondered to herself. Apparently not. He led her to a car and opened the trunk and she put her bags inside. He got into the driver's seat and she started to sit in back and he said, "I dun bite," so she took that to mean she should sit in front. He drove and did not speak another word just stopped in front of the barrister's office and waited. She looked at him a bit confused and he sighed heavily, "Git in an' see tha mon," he said "Imma ta take yeh to tha castle afta." And with that he turned away.

    "I see," she said and got out of the car. She stood and looked at the beautiful sign on the building. Herbert Laslow. Fine sounding name for a barrister she supposed and went inside. The interior was very beautifully appointed with what appeared to be antiques. beautiful woodwork that went all the way to the ceiling adorned three walls and a large receptionists desk was centered in the middle of that part of the room. She stepped over and smiled.

    "Miss MacDonald?" the woman behind the desk asked in a very curt formal manner.

    "Yes," she replied, "I..."

    "Mister Laslow has been expecting you." She said as if she were late and that tardiness was causing undue inconvenience on her employer.

    "Oh I am very sorry," she said, "The flight was delayed..."

    "He is WAITING," the woman repeated as she stood and opened the door for her to go into another room, "Miss MacDonald Sir." She said and then shut the door behind her.

    "I am sorry to have kept you waiting Sir," Fiona said hastily as she made her way over to his desk.

    Herbert Laslow was a portly but kind looking older gentleman, "Not at all Miss MacDonald," he said with a smile, "Please do sit down."

    "Thank you," she said as she sat and placed her purse and jacket on the seat next to her.

    "Miss MacDonald," He began, "I must say I am both pleased and terrified that you have come to accept this inheritance. You seem like a lovely young woman."

    "Terrified?' she asked and the look of confusion of her face could not be missed.

    "Yes miss," he said, "You are to be the eighth owner of the castle since I have been in charge of it. The seven previous owner were all murdered, either in the castle itself or on the grounds."

    ""OH!" she said in shock, "I had no idea."

    "If you wish to decline.."

    "Oh no," she said, "I am accepting. I'm sure there is some logical explanation."

    "If you say so miss," he said with a shake of his head that would indicate he did not believe it. They spent the next hour going over all the particulars and the monetary settlement as well. She hadn't realized there was money involved in addition to the castle. He explained her responsibilities as far as taxes and other local responsibilities. She signed where indicated and he handed her a large ring of keys. "None of those are labelled, I'm afraid. Sorry about that."

    "It's ok," she smiled, "It'll be my first adventure...unlocking the doors of a castle!"

    He nodded, "As you wish Miss," he said as he stood, "Good luck Miss. My prayers are with you."

    She accepted his extended hand and nodded, "Thank you Mister Laslow. You have a wonderful day." She grabbed her purse and jacket and tucked the papers she'd just signed into the crook of her arm and made her way back to the car. She got in the front seat and he looked at her like she was daft, "Are yeh seriously ?" he started to ask but then shook his head and started driving. He stopped at the end of what appeared to be a long stone bridge that spanned over water an onto the castle grounds. He stopped the car and got out and opened the trunk and deposited her bags on the ground and got back in, "Far as I go," he stated.

    She blinked at him and frowned, but got out of the car and expended the handle on her bags so she could pull them as she walked what appeared to be half a mile to the actual castle. He was gone before she even took one step toward it and shrugged. she jiggled the ring of keys and smiled, "Looks like it's just you and me.." She made the trek without much problem, except that she kept stopping to take pictures on her phone. it was gorgeous, why wouldn't anyone want to live here? She was at the large door, which looked to be about 5 feet across and saw an old steel portcullis above her head. "How cool is THAT?" she said aloud. And then began the trial of discovering which key opened the door. After a few tries she happened upon the proper one and smiled as she pushed the door open and gasped at the beautiful stone interior walls and beautiful old furnishings. It was a bit dusty but she expected that. She had been told there was electricity int he castle and running water, as one of the previous owners had upgraded many of the spaces for modern living. Many but not all.

    As soon as she entered the castle she began to hear things, which she assumed were vermin or other inhabitants that had taken human vacancy to mean they were welcome. She saw a plug in the wall near a hall table at the entrance and pulled her phone's power cord from he purse and hooked up the phone. She was delighted to see it was charging and pulled her laptop our of her smaller bag and plugged it in as well. She smiled at the screen when she saw her parent's faces, "I'm HERE!" she said ignoring their looks of disapproval. "You two have GOT to come visit. it's beautiful!"

    "Fiona dear," her mother said, "It's also haunted. Didn't they tell you that? Everyone who lives there dies...horribly."

    She was about to excuse that away when her father held up a hand, "Fiona be careful. Hire a guard or something. Get some other people there to live as well, a maid, a butler, and definitely a guard."

    "Get an exorcist," her mother added and then shrugged when her father shook his head at her, "What? It couldn't hurt."

    Fiona just smiled, "I promise! I'll hire people and I won't be here alone and if it will make you happy mother I'll advertise for someone to rid me of ghosts. ok?"

    Her father nodded, "Do it today Fiona...I'll be watching for your ad."

    And he would be, she knew as much. "It will be up as soon as I get off here with you two." she promised.

    "Very good," he replied with another nod, "Keep in touch....daily." To which sentiment her mother nodded enthusiastically. And then they were gone.

    She huffed and then opened up a window and placed and add for a maid, gardener, butler, and cook. She wanted to ignore her mother's request but she couldn't knowing they'd be reading it as soon as she posted it. So she added to the bottom of the ad, Needed also a ghost exterminator, or exorcist. She shook her head at it but added her contact information and phone number.

    She didn't expect to get any replies that say, but once the phone was charged she kept it on her the rest of the day and she began uncovering some of the furniture and dusted the main living areas. She found what appeared to be the last occupant's bedroom and frowned. It was covered in red splashes but it didn't look like paint. She saw a dagger in the middle of the floor covered in the same red. The dagger seemed to move, but she was sure it was her imagination. She backed out of the room and closed the door and looked through the keys until she found the one to lock that room.

  2. Sip....





    "Ah. Here's one."

    Thank god for the internet. It made his job so much easier. Well, yes his local job but also what he tends to moonlight when it comes out. But this time was going to be one of the big ones and he knew it as soon as it came up.

    "Finally. A good frickin' recipe for lemon cheesecake."

    A golden find, indeed. He smiled as the link was sent back home, to someone who will hopefully be making some next time they see each other.

    The man would have a classic case of bedhead, if his hair was long enough for that. In his plain white shirt and blue sweatpants, he was really ready for the day. Assuming the day didn't require going outside. Sometimes it did and he would just have to deal with it.

    Owen opened a new browser tab to the local newspaper, and proceeded to skim over the advertisements. After not finding too much on the first go, it struck him to get into the shower. Shrugging, the young man obeyed himself and took a quick cleaning.

    Feeling rather refreshed, he took another look. Blinking, he found something promising.

    "Yada yada, castle, yada yada, ghosts and murder? Ok. Yada yada Fiona MacDonald? irish is this woman. Sounds like she can hack up a loogie and it would be a potato. Probably has red hair too, I mean damn, is that even a real name?"

    Shaking his head, he put on some clothes as it was getting a little chilly at this point. Finally, a hit. Picking up his cell, Own punched in the numbers and gave this gal a call.
  3. Fiona had left that room locked and gone about trying to clean the rest of the main living areas. She knew she couldn't get the bulk of the work done alone, but she was hoping to at least have a place to sleep, relax and cook ready for herself by the end of the day. Maybe she'd get some responses to her ad before the day was done and she'd have some help soon. She hoped so. This place was MUCH larger than she'd anticipated.

    She did finish the kitchen which had been recently remodeled and she was grateful. She was somewhat of a cooking enthusiast, which you become during college or you accept the fact that your only dietary staple will be pizza. It had taken exactly five months of pizza for ehr to realize she needed to learn to cook. Her roommates had been forced to be her guinea pigs and at first that was a horrifying job, but she'd quickly developed a knack for flavors and those same initial skeptics were now among her biggest culinary fans.

    She made her way back to the living room and uncovered all the wonderful antique chairs and tables that were located there but she kept feeling that room calling her. What had happened in there? She was still kind of just staring at that door when her phone rang loudly. She about jumped out of her skin and even gave a squeaked out "AHH!" in response and then shook her head and huffed at her own over reaction.

    "Hello?" she answered, "This is Fiona MacDonald. How can I help you?" her voice was soft and sweet sounding and had a bit of a Texas twang to it that she'd picked up while in college. She tended to, as a linguist adopt local accents as part of her studies and it helped her with her chosen profession. She was sure before long she'd have the Scottish brogue down pretty handily.