https://vignette.wikia.nocooki....jpg/revision/latest


So here you are, back in the drawing room, where each of you met with Mrs. Collins earlier, for your personal interviews.

Now, though, a table and chairs have been arranged, for the séance...

Mrs. Collins does not sit at the table, but in a loveseat nearby. "I will not join hands," she says when asked. "Hestia agrees that my personal auric vibrations would... complicate matters."

Hestia Ross, whom all of you met before, is at the table, however-- and a new man, introduced to you as Dr. Jarrod McKenzie, is seated next to her. He wears a business suit, and has a cane resting in his lap. His hair is neatly combed in a side part, and his face is closely shaved, with no sign of five o'clock shadow.

"A séance can be quite stressful," is all Mrs. Collins says about the doctor's presence, "and I thought it would be useful to have a doctor present."

Then she looking you over, she asks: "...Where is Mr. Macintyre?"

Bigby Macintyre did not show up for the séance. After his interview, he spent time wandering around Collinwood... "...Mrs. Hudson said she thought she saw him heading toward the west wing of the house," says Hestia. "She warned him not to get lost, but he just said he never gets lost... I think that was the last time anyone saw him." She turns to the rest of you. "...Mrs. Hudson is the housekeeper," she explains.

"Blast!" mutters Mrs. Collins.

"I think it's all right," says Hestia. "This group of people feels right..."

"Oh yes?" says Mrs. Collins with interest. "Well, perhaps the good doctor helps make up for the lack... The table best fits five people, anyway," she sighs.

The storm outside is raging. The electric lights are turned out, and Hestia begins the séance with only three blue (why blue? you wonder) candles burning.

"Join hands, please," she says. "Do not break the contact with the hands on either side of you, no matter what you do." You all nod.

"We call upon a spirit who lived in the past," intones Hestia. "We call upon the spirit world to connect with those who existed here in 1795... We wish to know about a secret that is unknown to us..."

The storm rages. Lightning flashes. Hestia says nothing further for a time, but moans... strangely. It sounds a little higher-pitched than her usual voice...

"I..." says the voice that comes out of her mouth. "...I am here... Who calls? Whom do you seek? I am here... What do you want...?"

You glance at Mrs. Collins, but she says nothing. She shakes her head, and sort of gestures back at you. You gather that she, not in the circle of joined hands, doesn't feel that she should speak-- that if anyone is to speak to whomever or whatever might be speaking through Hestia Ross, it should be one of you.

What do you say? Replying to the new voice seems to be a first-come, first-answered affair...
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:19, Mon 15 Jan 2018.

Prof. Willoughy is eager to take part in the whole endeavor. He is most interested in the "secret that is unknown to us" bit. Unfortunately, he doesn't know any details, so he is not sure yet how can he be of assistance.

"I am Everett Willoughby, here in Collinwood, Anno Domini 1966. What is your name, wandering soul?" he asks. Just to be sure...

In reply to Prof. Everett Willoughby (msg # 2):

"Oh...! I am... Isabella...! Isabella...! What... what do you want...? Why...? The dead must rest in peace...! But...!" There is a stroke of thunder quite near the house. "But we cannot...!"

As before, she pauses again, in that way that it seems time for someone to speak once more...
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:23, Mon 15 Jan 2018.

McKenzie had seen enough in the last few years to at least take peoples' belief in such things at face value. Whilst he himself was a Gnostic Atheist, he found the strict adherence of others to religious beliefs academically interesting but not usually of immediate interest to his own field. This night however may prove to be different. His good left hand twitched for want of a pen to write notes, hard enough that the person to his left would not have failed to notice, and he idly wondered what if any drugs were involved in the performance or if it truly were a case of good acting. Deciding to humor the other guests, he asked his own question of the medium.

"Isabella. My name is Jarrod McKenzie. I am a medical doctor. Why can you not rest?"

"Isabella? Who can she be?" wonders the Professor.

In reply to Dr. Jarrod McKenzie (msg # 4):

"Because of... because of... the one who... the... the hatred... of..."

And then, Hestia's voice changes again. "That's all right, Isabella. I'll take it from here."

Since it comes from Hestia's throat, you cannot tell if the voice is meant to be that of a man or a woman. Whomever it is meant to be, it is supremely confident. Scornful. "Hello again, little Collins. I said I'd return. You were quite wise not to place yourself into this circle. But oh, what an unexpected gambit, getting strangers to fill the chairs for you."

It is at this point that you notice that you cannot move, nor speak.

"Because of Stokes' wards and protections, I can't do anything to your little medium, here, except to speak through her, but that's fine. What delightful scapegoats you've provided instead! What lies and promises have you spoken to them to get them to sit for this desperate little gamble? Let's take a look at what we have here... two with magic in their veins, whether they know it or not... one betrayer, that's amusing... and... I don't know how to categorize how broken this person is, but it's wonderfully entertaining... and I see that in most cases, you hardly had to lie to any of them... they just jumped right on board. It's not like in the old days, when people knew to fear the unknown..."

Whomever-it-is laughs with Hestia's mouth. "You just couldn't wait for Stokes to return from Europe, could you? You felt certain that I'd cause disaster to strike before he could get back, didn't you? Never mind that you were right... did it ever occur to you that Stokes can't get back because I have delayed him? That he hasn't responded to your frantic calls and messages because I've made sure he hasn't gotten them? Ah, poor Stokes... all Stokes fall a bit short right before the finish line... but such a magnificent struggle, up until the final failure!"

There is a frantic hammering on the closed twin doors of the drawing room. "Your Loomis can't help you, either... I've never found any Loomis, on his best day, to be as much fun as any Collins... But I like most of these little sacrifices gathered here... you didn't really think they would be spared because they have no previous connection to the Collins family, did you? Throughout history, if others get involved, I simply draw them into my web, too... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised-- I've seldom seen a Collins who wouldn't sacrifice someone else to save themselves, except of course for the young ones like Isabella... but the souls of all Collins rot, as they mature, don't they? You should know this, Charity, you who were born a Trask... but you joined the family of your own free will, didn't you? Swore eternal oaths to be a part of the family's troubles? And yet..."

A crash of thunder, closer to the house than ever. "...And yet how rude we're being! Your guests have come in near the end of the story! I've half a mind to bring them to me, and show them the chapter where I came in...! Yes, I think I will... except for the governess, we have enough of them here as it is... but yes, Charity, I accept your sacrifice... three out of four isn't bad, anyway..."

A strange note of sadness enters into the voice. "Who knows... perhaps they might even manage to help me..."

A gust of wind causes the French windows to blow open, and the candles blow out. Everything goes utterly black, at the very instant someone manages to scream.

And someone-- Harry? The professor? Cecelia? breaks the circle of hands.

And then, the light returns to your eyes.

But you're not in the drawing room. It's morning (the sky is clear and blue), and you're standing outside the front door of Collinwood, the three of you-- The Professor, Harry, and the Doctor. You're all wearing the same clothes you had on at the séance.

Except that you notice two things.

1. The doors, the building... they all look the same... except that they look... newer. There's not even any ivy growing on the walls, like there was the last time you stood in this spot. Even the trees seem smaller.

and 2. ...The electric light that was next to the door is gone. Instead, an antique-style lantern hangs there, in excellent condition.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 18:26, Tue 16 Jan 2018.