New Island Breezes RPG Story Thread

[seigfried007]

A look from the lively lady in the apron stalled Adam in his bouncing, happy steps. His smile fled in a meek nod as he turned for the door to the dining room.

Perhaps I should sit with the guests?

Yes, that seems prudent...

He frowned and took a seat at the rear right corner with his head bowed... as far away from where his employer might sit... and almost coughed from the scent of cologne and that strange, sour smell of "Texas lemonade".

[Aurasheild]

"No, you made it in time. And a good thing too." Jingla seemed happy as she smiled pleasently.

"I'm glad I didn't miss it, the last thing I need is a night in a strange place on an empty stomach." Adiel paused, noting that a man had just come in, he sat in the the rear and to the right. To Adiel he seemed shy, but then he remembered that he was the man that had helped him on the plane before. Nodding the man, he turned back to Jingla.

"And what is this you've thrown on, it really makes you glow."

[Cold Twilight]

"And what is this you've thrown on, it really makes you glow."

Jingla blinked at Adiel with confusion. "I'm sorry? I don't understand what you mean... I haven't thrown anything on. The only change is that I have been outside."

She started to speak again, then shrugged. "You look more..." she searched for the right word in English, "alive? No, that is not quite the right word." Frsutrated, she resorted to French. "Vous semblez plus heureux d'être ici."



Translation: You look more happy to be here.

[crazed scribe]

"Shall we?"

"yeah, before were late,"aswered Maria. She took the first step forward and seated her self at the fairly large table. Some others, whose names she had no idea of. So, discretely, she sat herself down at the seat which was penultimate to the door. Trying to get involved she absorbed herself in their conversations about their parents and their obvious love for them. Her eyes glazed over for a second and she was reminded of her relationship with her parents, no; she musn't let them taint it. If anything she was here to get rid of her connections of them. Once again she started to listen intently to the conversation that was taking place.

"No, you made it in time. And a good thing too."

[Foxee]

“NOT AT ALL, DOCTOR,” Chris replied with a smile and a sketchy half-bow as he gestured toward the doorway he had just left, “Jean-Marie has a place set for you.”

He left her and hurried past the library doors, placing one hand on the newel post and bounding up the stairs to the second floor. There he went up and down the hall, knocking on doors and gathering stragglers, herding them politely to the dining room.

((Players: If you have not yet moved your character to the dining room please assume that you are there now. Thanks!))


PAULA WAS COUNTING heads when Tony leaned into the dining room, looked around, and caught her eye. His face was taut, wary, his professional face. Paula had to admit her own heightened awareness. None of the bodyguards would eat until Anya had safely returned to her rooms.


ANYA’S ANKLE ached dully with the weather, reminding her of the pins that held the bones together. Heels would really be more appropriate with the simple blue satin halter dress but-

Blake’s signature knock sounded at the door.

"Miss Anya? The guests are waiting."

She bent and snagged a pair of blue ballet-style slippers, crossed to the door and opened it.

“Come in, Blake, I’ll only be a moment.”

She went to the dressing table sit and put the flat shoes on and smoothed the glossy material of the dress down, the hem brushing her ankles. After a moment she realized she was stalling.

Picking a blue and white bloom from the vase of cut flowers beside her, she pinned it into place in her coppery upswept hair. She flinched away from her candlelit reflection and turned to Blake.

“Well,” she blew out a breath and rose, walking with her slight limp to where he stood, “how bad can they really be?”

[alanmt]

The dining room was filling up, and Chad recognized most of the people as his fellow passengers from the plane. Since most people had taken a seat along the side of the table nearest to the door they came in, he moved around to the other side. He dropped into a chair next to the curvaceous woman.

"Hey," he said lightly in greeting.

Across from him were Jingla and the young man he had mentally named "green/pink suitcase guy". He flashed them both a smile and glanced at the head of the table. It was empty.

The air was full of the pleasant aromas of well-prepared food. Chad suddenly realized that he was very hungry. To distract himself while he waited, he scanned the others with frank curiosity.

A reasonably sized staff for a remote, exclusive resort. But he hadn't actually seen any guests just yet. Maybe the resort was just getting ready to open. Or maybe it was just a private estate. But if that was the case, the staff seemed a bit excessive. And there was something odd about the drivers. All business, they were, and looked a little tense.

Dude, chill, he told himself. You're just hungry.

[Blossom]

Relieved, Hayley made her way into the dining room. Most of the passengers who had been on the plane were already there, nicely cleaned up and cheerfully talking. Hayley slipped into the nearest free seat, and looked with appreciation at the food already on the table. Well did she remember Jean-Marie’s heavenly cooking.

A glance at the head of the table told her Anya wasn’t here yet. Well, that wasn’t very surprising. Presumably she would appear soon with Blake. Hayley wondered if she would be able to cope with even such a small gathering of people; perhaps if she was hiring, then she had improved since their meeting.

[slayerofangels]

"We'll soon find out," Blake said, "their backgrounds are clear though, so at least that's something."

Holding the door open for her, he half bowed as she passed, smiling slightly, and glanced around the room. Everything looked fine, though it would probably benefit from a more focussed cleaning than it usually received, and he made a mental note to check that the piano was still in tune.

"Paula said something about one of the outdoor staff, but its nothing we can't handle."

Locking the door behind her, he turned and held out a hand, which she took gladly. He took a careful pace towards the stairs, eyes alert for any stragglers. This meeting would be hard enough on her without someone ambushing them in the hall. Not for the first time, he wondered how she managed to dress so impeccably, the blue of her dress contrasting greatly with the unadorned grey of his business suit. No matter how many times he took her hand she always managed to make him feel like a duck-footed gorilla next to her.

"Are you certain you want to do this? I can give them the introductory spiel if you'd like."

[Foxee]

"ARE YOU CERTAIN you want to do this? I can give them the introductory spiel if you'd like."

Blake's blue eyes were concerned yet as always he offered her a choice.

Anya placed her hand lightly in his, the butterflies in her stomach calming from that warm contact. She forced a small smile, which became genuine as she watched him shoot a series of sharp glances into the dark corners of the landing and stairwell.

Her anti-anxiety tablets sat untouched in the medicine cabinet, threatening a return to addiction. The bodyguards had ceased to make her nervous to any great degree though she still felt jumpy around Jean-Marie, Desmond, and Tai.

And she was curious to see this new group of people for herself. That alone was exhilarating even with a sting of anxiety.

“I appreciate the offer but I should try,” She said as they proceeded down the stairway together, “I feel much better.”

And you’ll be right there, she thought, taking strength from the solid dependability of Blake’s presence.


WHEN BLAKE and Anya reached the dark foyer the weather outside rattled the shutters with a sound like gravel hurled against them. Mellow light spilled across the floor ahead from the dining room door.

Tony stood just outside the jamb, his figure indistinct. He nodded to Blake, the golden light touching his face for an instant.

All was well.

Anya took a deep trembling breath, thinking the better of her decision. Yet she forced herself to walk with Blake. She carefully ignored all of the inquisitive faces as he helped her to her chair. The presence of so many people in one place rolled over her like a suffocating blanket.

Trembling, she concentrated fiercely on the place setting before her.

Candles had been placed as she requested, in the center of the table and at the far end, others on a sideboard behind her, casting her face in dancing shadow. The bodyguards stood at the doorways and against the walls.

Finally she gained the courage to look up, she straightened her spine and raised her chin haughtily. Tai moved around the room, serving the fragrant tomato soup. Dr. Marsden’s face seemed to swim out of the crowd and Anya acknowledged her with a slight nod.

“Good evening.”

The low voice that they might know from her albums and soundtracks sounded forbidding, even to her. She tried again.

“It is good to see new faces here on the island.” Better. She took a breath, “As you may have noticed there are no guests here. This is my private residence.”

She fought against the urge to close her eyes against the battery of gazes on her and determinedly picked up her spoon.

“The wording of the ad you responded to was deliberately vague, I apologize for that necessity. I would also remind each of you of the non-disclosure document that you signed as part of the hiring process.”

The trembling deep in her gut had returned in earnest. She held her voice steady with an effort.

“I am Anya Dering-Thompson. I’m sure that I’ll get to know each of you,” not on your life! “during your time here.”

Pale faces swam together, hungry, demanding eyes like camera lenses. ‘Do you have a statement, Miss Dering? Can you tell us about your next project, your upcoming wedding, your brand of toothpaste?’ Anya’s heartbeat pounded in her ears. ‘Give us a look at the bandages! Do you think this will end your career, Mrs. Thompson?’

The spoon dropped to the table, skittered, fell to the floor with a painful chime.

“Blake.” She said very quietly, edging her chair backwards from the camera eyes, holding out her hand.

His warm hand engulfed hers as he helped her from her chair. She managed a regal nod to the assembled employees before she turned and fled, Paula following.

[seigfried007]

The woman who strode to the opposite end of the table was certainly a fancy, but panicky sort--like a white doe stealing nibbles from an immaculate garden. he could almost see her ears fly forward at every step, and though she tried to mask her anxiety, Adam knew she clutched her servant's hand.

Why would such a woman--one with such poise and style and wealth--be frightened of servants? He doubted it was the shutter-battering storm for it wasn't the windows her gaze refused to grace, but their faces. The faces of people she was allowed to have beaten and starved and cast into the roiling, rocky surf by more able people at her disposal. Why would she fear them?

She fled after a few low, musical sentences... leaving him and no doubt others to blink in her wake.

Perhaps she requires pillowing? His brows knit. He shook his head. She didn't seem the type to want such things and there were many other men here for the taking.

He set to readying a tray worthy of her. No servant could eat before his master.

[slayerofangels]

"If you are certain," Blake said quietly.

Entering the room quietly, he stood a pace behind and to the left of her seat, casting a wary eye over the assembled guests. It was easy enough to put names to faces, and already he spotted the laid abck form of Bruce thompson, eyes glazed slightly in a way that screamed intoxication. He'd deal with that later. Anya managed her introduction with grace for all that, holding out her hand to him when it was clear she could take no more. Helping her out of her chair, he nodded to Paula before turning back to the assembled group. To his surprise, one of the guests...Adam, if he remembered correctly... eemed to be gathering a tray of food, clearly intent on following Anya.

"Adam, sit down," he said, his voice carrying all the more effectively for not being raised. "If you leave this room your job is forfeit."

Blake looked pointedly at Adam until he sat back down, noting with satisfaction that Chris and Tony had moved to bar the doors without being prompted. Not that Paula would have let him within spitting distance of Anya anyway. Now that the man had been chastised and the room was appropriately sombre, it was time to give the introduction.

"You'll have to forgive Miss Derring," he said, never taking his eyes from Adam, "she's delicate, and isn't used to dealing with people. Please, don't starve on my account, it would be doing our chef, Jean Marie a disservice. You too Adam."

A few tentatively picked at their food, and he resisted the urge to scowl, keeping his face calm and neutral. Glancing at the assembly once more, he pushed Anya's chair in and stood at the head of the table, back straight, every muscle relaxed.

"My name is Gareth Blake," he said, without preamble, "the woman you just met is Miss Anya Derring. This is her house, but for the duration of your employment you will report to me. Before we go any furtherm there are two things I must make absolutely clear. First, the non-disclosure agreement. Anything and everything that happens within this house or on the grounds stays within the grounds."

Not that he expected anything that interesting to happend during their tenure, but Miss Anya valued her privacy, and anyone who threatened it would be stamped on. Hard.

"Secondly, the third floor, specifically miss Anya's suite is off limits unless you are otherwise instructed. Anyone found there without my explicit consent will be summarily dismissed from their positon and flown off the island at the earliest opportunity. Are there any questions before we go any further?"

[seigfried007]

"Mr. Blake, no good servant should eat before his master. If you object to me bringing her food, then please allow me to place a meal for her on a tray and you or another of your choosing may bring it to her. I cannot sit knowing that she may be ill-provided for or lacking nourishment. Or do you say this because I have not earned favor enough to prepare her meals and trays?"

[slayerofangels]

"This is not a negotiation. Until you accept the terms of your employment you rule yourself out of the servant category," Blake said calmly, "Miss Anya has managed wonderfully so far without you yammering at her heels like a forlorn puppy. Or are you suggesting that Jean-Marie is incapable of doing her job? I am highly averse to employing people incapable of following simple instructions. Any other questions?"

[seigfried007]

"I had meant to imply no such thing, Mr. Blake, and I am certain that your employer Mrs. Dering-Thompson has been well provided for. I was under the impression I was brought to ease the strain of the other servants in caring for such a large estate and personnel. My humble apologies, Mr. Blake," Adam said crisply before nodding respectfully and assuming his seat.

Why would a man be averse to his mistress eating? And why would he force more of a burden on an aging cook when a young man was willing to aid her? How strange.

[alanmt]

Well, this is interesting, thought Chad. The private residence of a reclusive celebrity, the celebrity none other than Anya Dering. He mulled the situation over, the exchange between the tough guy and the kid in the tux and tails barely registering.

It explained a lot. The security. The lack of guests. The ostentatious staff hiring.

Chad felt a little wave of disappointment. Resorts suited him. He liked the ever-changing flow of people, the holiday mood that permeated the air at vacation destinations. Well, it wasn’t that big of a deal. He’d make do. There was still a wild island jungle to explore and interesting people to get to know. He imagined that he could find a bit of adventure here. Especially since the ad had suggested there might be more to the work than met the eye.

Chad knew of Anya, of course. He was a So-Cal boy and ever since he worked at the 12 Palms, the tabloid news of the superficial lives of celebrities had registered on his radar screen. Anya Dering was an actress, quite a good one. A red-carpet blockbuster, often compared to Nicole Kidman, until she had the car accident a few years ago. He had heard that she had died, but apparently that rumor was wrong.

It seemed that she had suffered more than physical injuries in the accident. She had been polite, but clearly she was uncomfortable, anxious. If his first impression was correct, she was either exceedingly neurotic, or exceedingly frightened. He hoped she wasn’t an eccentric nut job. Such people tended to be difficult to work for. On the other hand, what in the world could she be frightened of here, locked away from the world?

Glancing around the table again, he noticed a sense of tension. Mr. Blake looked irritated. The formal young man apologized for something and sat down smoothly, looking straight ahead. Chad flashed him a reassuring wink that he was certain Mr. Blake couldn’t see.

This place was wound pretty tight. The storm outside definitely matched the feeling inside the house. Everyone really needed to chill out and loosen up.