This Isn't My Library... ((Emma Ravenhearst))

[Erik Revenant]

Something wasn't right.

The masked man sat quietly within his workshop, peering at the little creation before him. A short tapered beak of a Shrike, the bright predator eyes, and detailed metallic feathers. The head of this metal bird was wonderfully lifelike and appears as though it could burst to life at any given time. But the neck just seemed wrong. There were plenty of pleasing lines about the head and the body, even to the long and thin wedge-shaped bits that made up the tail. The connection between the two lovely parts of the bird was the only thing throwing it off and he couldn't figure out just how it was supposed to connect.

"I need a picture..." He spoke nearly inaudibly to himself before he stood up, still peering down at this malformed little metal bird that lay on his workbench, metal wings outstretched as though ready to burst into flight. If it wasn't for that neck! If it was hung up, no one would be the wiser about the neck not being correctly shaped. But he just couldn't leave it that way. No way. It would bother him every time he looked upon it. So, a short trip to his library would be entirely necessary to actually look into the book of birds he had in there. He set down one of the metal flight feathers that he had yet to attach and he stood from his chair, finally moving out of his workshop and out into the little hall that lay between his workshop and library. It was only a few steps across and he already knew where the book would be, right where he left it on the third shelf on the right side of the room, four books in. And it had a bent left corner on the cover, which bothered him to no end but...

It was as he was going through the door that something (though he wasn't certain what that something was) happened and, quite abruptly, he was no longer in his home. He'd walked through a doorway, alright, but this was by no means his library. He glanced back over his shoulder at the doorway and turned around, peeking out. Not his hallway either. A look to the left, a look to the right. No. None of this was part of his home. Glancing at the wood of the door frame, he reached out and just touched it, wondering how on earth he had come to be in this place. Making a suspicious face, he took a LARGE step out into the hallway. No. It seemed he couldn't get back through whatever had brought him through by going this way. Perhaps the other way? He turned around and took the same large step into the room, then glanced around with the hopes that he would be in his library.

No, it was still a room that was obviously NOT a library, by any means. He didn't recognize it at all. Once again, he turned around, looking at the door frame. There had to be a way back if there was a way here, right? He went to knocking about on the wooden frame, trying to figure out what secrets it held... besides mildew. That wasn't much of a secret, however. Nor was it of particular interest to him.

[Emma Ravenhearst]

Emma knew the house like the back of her hand. It would be unnatural not to, considering how long she had been here, and the fact that she was practically part of the house. She always knew when something was different, or something new had entered the manor. There had been a time when it had bothered her, all the new people entering the house that she was condemned to for the rest of eternity. But now...Well, she had her body back, for one thing. She was no longer a ghost, she had a flesh form. She wasn't quite as frightened to appear in front of the living. She and Charles had both been granted their bodies back and he was determined that they should live the life that they had never been able to live, the life that had been stolen from them by his madness.

But it was not perfect. The price of getting their bodies back was terrible. A pact with the Devil that would haunt them for a good long time...But they were going to get rid of him. That had been settled. The two would work together and rid their beautiful manor of the demons that now infested it. And perhaps they would grow accustomed to the guests. The manor was certainly big enough to accommodate them all, and the other ghosts would help...They were still spirits themselves. They had been given their bodies and working organs, but they were not alive. They were still bound to the house and could never leave. It was still a terrible and inescapable fate...

It would have been made much worse if Emma had not recently made up her mind about Charles. Though she had long been made to haunt the manor in her bridal gown, she had never consented to become his wife, and though Charles loved her eternally, she had not been so sure of her feelings. While the two were alive, she might have grown close to feeling something like love for him. But in death, his madness had taken him over and made him hardly recognizable as a man. She had spent a good part of 117 years hiding from him. He had done so much to harm her..And yet, she could not shake the connection that the two had. The gut feeling that told her that they were soul mates, that they could not long be apart. They needed one another. And so, when their bodies were returned, she had made a choice. She would be his wife. When she was good to him and stayed with him, his madness decreased significantly, and he was much more docile, less likely to harm the people that were invading his manor. When she was with him, he was quiet and good and wanted to be a proper master of the manor, with his Emma by his side. She owed it to the rest of the manor to be with him. It was a sacrifice that she was born to make. She would be the mistress of the manor, welcome the guests with open arms, and take care of them, as was due to her.

And so, while she was wandering the halls of the manor, looking for something to do (Charles was busy in his workshop and she had grown bored watching him), she felt something shift. There was a change in the house, she could sense it. Someone new was here...Good lord, another one of the characters had appeared from that book...Well, wouldn't this be a good time to start her new regime? She straightened her back with a little sigh, and set off in the direction of the disturbance.

When she arrived, it was in one of the lesser used hallways. It housed a few sitting rooms and something that resembled a guest room, though it wasn't at all luxurious and she doubted that anyone would ever use it. It didn't take her long at all to locate the source of the disturbance- there was a tall man tapping away at a wooden door frame, looking quite troubled. A man...

Emma faltered slightly. She had been hoping that it would be a woman that she was greeting. Men were something else altogether...Charles wouldn't be pleased if he knew she was talking to another man, and surely he could sense it...But he did want her to be hospitable...And he was not her keeper, for God's sake! She would do as she pleased...She cleared her throat a little, and murmured softly, "Sir...?"

She, at least, must have looked welcoming. She was dressed in a long , light blue gown that, though modern, would pass for acceptable, even in Victorian times. Her long brown hair was tied up in a neat, unassuming bun. She looked demure, quiet- the only part that shone about her were her eyes. Deep pools of hazel that reflected kindness...And infinite sadness. It was visible always and seemed to reflect on the rest of her face which, though extremely beautiful, also seemed to reflect that melancholy state that her eyes were in. Her beauty all around was muted slightly by that sadness and what it had done to her mind. Still, she smiled a little at the man's back, trying to keep calm and composed. He would not come for her...

[Erik Revenant]

This didn't make any sense. How had he come here? The door frame was giving nothing away, though he was completely certain that it had something to do with his arrival. It was only after much more tapping and walking through that door frame time after time that he realized someone was there.

He hadn't heard her approach nor had he heard if she'd spoken, as he was very focused on that door frame. There was absolutely no desire to speak to her now. That is, if she was real. Was any of this real? What was going on? It wasn't normal to walk through one door and into a whole different place. Especially since he'd walked through that given door numerous times while he's been living in that underground house. That's been nineteen years and the door had never transported him to other places any of those other times. Even if they would've been more convenient and far more welcome. But those thoughts had to wait for now. This woman was standing there and... maybe she could help. Maybe he could just figure out how to get through and he'd never have to speak to her ever again.

"...Can you help me?" He hated to request help of her. Granted, he didn't want to talk to her anyway, so his speech was rather quiet and hesitant. But desperate times called for measures that were far more than desperate and, if he could get through, he'd be back home and far away from people again. He gestured to the door frame, as though that explained everything. Just in case she didn't understand what he was gesturing at, he spoke again, looking at the door frame and not at all at her. "I can't get back through..." Seeing as he wouldn't even look over at her after that initial glance, he couldn't tell anything of her. Then again, none of that really mattered to him. He was starting to get distressed in his inability to get back the way he'd come through. Or the way he thought he came through, anyway.

[Emma Ravenhearst]

Emma furrowed her brow as she looked at the back of the man's head. He seemed reluctant to turn around and face her, which was perfectly fine with her, seeing as she wasn't particularly eager to get too close to any man, particularly one that she had only just met. She didn't even know his name as of yet. But the man seemed extremely strange...Was he really having trouble getting through a door? The door was wide open, for heaven's sake, and it wasn't as though the opening was too small to get through. Perhaps the man was blind? Or mentally impaired in some way? Either circumstance called for her to offer some assistance, didn't it? She moved forward slowly, nodding, before realizing that, of course, the man could not see her, "Of course I can...Here..."

She stepped to the man's side and, after a moment of hesitation, reached out to grip the man's arm. She could feel herself trembling just a little- she hadn't touched another living being, save for Charles, since she had had her body returned to her, let alone a man. It was frightening and she was not at all comfortable with it. What in the world would Chalres think if he saw her...She gently tugged the man with her through the opening of the door, leading him into the guest room that was beyond the doorframe. As soon as they had crossed the threshold, she let go of his arm, dropping her hands to her sides, and stepping back from him, almost denying that she had ever touched him. Her eyes moved over the man with slight curiousity...Another mask wearing man. It was strange, how many of them seemed to be about. Of course, she knew that they all came from that one story, but it still was unnerving to see so many people who refused to show their faces, "Might I ask your name...?"

[Erik Revenant]

It seemed as though he waited forever for her reply. He was, of course, expecting for her to not know what he was talking about. To have to explain. But, when she spoke and said she could help him, his hopes soared. She would help?! And she didn't question him? There was a look of great relief on his face. Now he could go home and get back to work on his bird.

When she took a hold of his arm, he was tempted to pull away, despite the fact that he knew she was trying to help him. Maybe it was required for her to help him back through. But wouldn't she go through with him if she was holding on to his arm that way? Well, that would be a huge problem, since she'd be in his house and he wouldn't be alone there. He was about to protest her holding on to him and pulling him along until she just barely pulled him through the door. He stood there, perplexed, for a moment. Then he looked around.

She hadn't taken him anywhere at all! This was still the same room and definitely not his library! What was she playing at? Didn't she realize this was wrong and not how it was supposed to be? Then to have the gall to ask his name afterwards. A frown came to his face and he was still looking around, discontent. "Erik Revenant." He still absolutely refused to look at her. She hadn't helped him in the least and it didn't seem like she was going to help him at all. "...We're still here."

[Emma Ravenhearst]

Emma was thoroughly confused by his statement and it showed as she raised an eyebrow, looking him over in confusion. She was trying to be a good host, not running away though she wanted to very badly, but this man seemed strange and ungrateful. Perhaps he was mad...? Insane people seemed to be coming about more and more, some with phycological problems that rivaled even Charles. But she would hope that the first new person she met in her new body would be at least somewhat sane...She needed some more sanity in her life, goodness knew.

It took her a moment before she replied, choosing her words carefully. She wanted to make a good impression, of course, "...Yes...That wasn't a door to the outside..."

She took a look around the room as she said this, wrinkling her nose a little. The guest bedroom looked to be in great disrepair, and she could hardly imagine that this was where this man wanted to be. Perhaps that was what he was complaining about?

[Erik Revenant]

She just didn’t seem to get it, did she? He didn’t belong here and he was trying to get home! Not back into the same room that he’d walked out of. Despite the fact that he wasn’t really one for talking, he was starting to get frustrated with trying to find a way out on his own and being interrupted by a woman who couldn’t help him.

“…I’m trying to get home… I came through here.” He absently gestured to the door of this musty little room. He didn’t know how else to explain it. He was aware it wasn’t normal and he shouldn’t have assumed that the woman would understand at all. This was getting ridiculous. It should’ve been just as easy to get back as it had been to come through the first time. Rather than looking at her at all, he moved back over towards the door frame, growing increasingly agitated. This was impossible to wrap his head around and he didn’t like it at all. “How do I get back home?”