Emram climbed down from the tree house. The sun had a strange quality to it at this hour, almost as though it weren't the sun at all, but stage lighting. The light was bright where it fell on the lush grass, though the day wasn't particularly bright, yet the shadows were somehow diffuse, ill defined.
There was an eerie stillness in the air, and it felt neither warm nor cold. No sound could be heard except his own breath - no birds, no breeze. A mist lay in patches, low to the ground, thick enough to swirl and eddy around his feet as he moved, with slow, cautious steps, back toward the mansion. Something was making him edgy, and while he could not identify the source of his nervousness, he was prepared to meet any challenge.
He searched around the mansion once more, although he knew that the others were unlikely to have returned. He finally gave up and returned to the main lounge. He sat down in a chair, and stared pensively at the table. He looked at it for some time before it dawned on him that all of the breakfast things he had earlier seen were now gone, and the only things on the table were the cutlery that was laid out for lunch, the salt and pepper mills, and the large bottle of tomato ketchup that Ragnar insisted was present at every meal. He looked around wildly, but saw no other sign of activity.
He thought about it again, sweat breaking out on his noble brow. There was obviously something fishy going on. Someone had cleared away the breakfast things, but who? He decided to go back to his rooms and cogitate on the matter there. he had a bottle of whisky that might help things along a little.
He walked into his room, and figured that he would clear away his breakfast things before getting down to the serious thinking ahead. He stared, jaw dropping, when he saw that his little table was clean!
He had seen no sign of the staff that worked at the mansion, which wasn't all that unusual - they did their very best to not interrupt the Scoobs - but he hadn't even seen Molly, the housekeeper, or Sopkin, the butler. Those two were generally to be seen somewhere around. So who had tidied his table? Who had tidied the main lounge? He sat on his bed, opened his bottle of whisky, and drained a good couple of shots.
He sat, drinking and thinking, thinking and drinking, ideas going around and around in his head. After several hours, no nearer to a conclusion, he staggered upright, and weaved his way down the corridor to Ragnar's room. Barging through the door, he could see that the room was in it's usual state - slightly messy, with the Viking's impressive collection of empty alcohol bottles lining three of the walls. But no sign of his friend. He staggered out, and headed to Kara's room. He knocked on the door, which eventually swung open, to reveal another empty room. He screamed in frustration, and turned around, screaming again as his inebriated stumble caused him to scrape his arm along the wall. Back at Ragnar's room, he stared at the sight before him - the same room, but now with Ragnar's heavy fur cloak in a pile on the floor. He tottered backwards, and slid down the wall behind him, blubbering with confusion and drunken-ness.
Ragnar pushed back his chair, and stood up, allowing Molly and Sopkin to clear away his breakfast plate. The others all began to rise, Kara waving a quick goodbye as she headed to her room for a quick nap.
"I fancy a bit of a walk," Kayde said. "I think I ate a little too much."
The others all agreed, and headed out into the gardens to walk off their breakfasts. The air outside was still and pleasant, with a little bit of a chill, and after about half an hour or so, they all began to feel a lot more active. They decided to go to the lake and try the canoes that Chryse had just got from Canoos4yoo.com, and spent a couple of hours paddling around, and ganging up on Ragnar, splashing him.
Back at the mansion, Ragnar went back to his room to remove his cloak, which was soaked through. He found his door wide open, which was odd, because he was sure he'd closed it when he left for breakfast.Shrugging, he dumped his cloak and went back downstairs to join the others.
Kara woke up suddenly when someone started hammering on her door. Scowling, she got up, and stalked over to the door, yanking it open.
"What?" she was about to shout, but stopped when she saw there was no-one there. She peered along the corridor outside, but could see nobody. Shrugging, she turned to go back to bed, but then decided to go down and see the others.
As she walked along the corridor, nearing Ragnar's room, his door flung open. She jumped, clutching at her chest with shock. Obviously, someone was playing silly games, but she couldn't see the only people who had the kind of powers necessary for that bothering with such childish pranks. She shrugged again, and continued her way down to the main lounge.
Arriving there, she saw the others sitting around, chatting.
"Hi, gang," she said,
"Hello," the others chorused. Kara looked around again, frowning.
"Emram still not about?" she asked.
"Haven't seen him," Chryse replied. "Rag? You two are normally never far from each other - or a drink, for that matter. Any ideas?"
The Viking shook his head. "We hadn't made any specific plans," he said. "But it is unusual for him to be absent. He's not in his room, I checked there. Although, his whisky bottle wasn't there either." He stopped, frowning.
"Well, maybe he went off for a quiet drink," Kayde suggested. Ragnar shook his head again.
"No, Emram's a social drinker. He wouldn't go off without inviting me. there's definitely something odd going on."
Last edited by Emram
on Fri Nov 26, 2004 7:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Emram's Taxidermy, you snuff 'em, we stuff 'em!"