Monday, October 13th, 2014
Turn 1
Utilize my longer stride to take the stairs faster than Maryn! Don't do anything mean though, just try to get there by being older and taller than Maryn. Prioritize rooms with a better view.
Dash inside without a word and rush upstairs to check out the bedrooms! Don't let Garen get there first!
If I get in front of Garen, I'm shutting doors behind me.
...Garen looks at Maryn.
Maryn looks at Garen.
The kids race off toward the Mansion, heedless of their parent's admonishments. Garen's stride keeps him just ahead of Maryn, and he edges through the front doors just ahead of her. He finds himself in a large foyer, with heavy purple curtains and long wooden benches running along each wall. That's all the time he has for sightseeing, however, as Maryn darts past him and through the inner set of doors.
Reacting quickly, he manages to get a hand on the inner doors before Maryn can slam them shut. The next room is a broad, open area with a high ceiling, but all Garen cares about is the wide mahogany staircase leading to the second floor. Garen takes the stairs two at a time, quickly pulling away from his sister.
As he approaches the top of the stairs, his steps falter. The purple carpet runner on the staircase matches the purple carpet lining the floor of the second story hallway. The walls are paneled in dark-stained oak, and hung with faded portraits of old men. There is a hatch in the ceiling which must lead to the attic, a pull-rope securely tucked into a notch in the hatch. He can see three doors on the left and one on the right, with the stately ticking of a grandfather clock echoing from somewhere out of sight. It seems colder upstairs than it did downstairs.
A muffled thump causes him to look back down the stairs in concern. Maryn limps up the last few steps, rubbing her knee.
"Did you trip? Are you hurt?" Garen asks solicitously.
"No." Maryn replies stubbornly.
"No you didn't trip, or no you aren't hurt?"
Maryn ignores her brother's patronizing tone, and tries to judge which closed door she should claim dibs on.
Look for landmarks outside. Sniff and mark all of them!
...Harpo's ears perk up as the Floyd man calls Harpo's name. The pack is splitting up, though, so clearly the Floyd man instructing Harpo to follow suit! Exploration, ho!
Harpo looks around, getting a better idea of the local surroundings. There's the big building everyone seems to be going toward, and there's another building downwind that's not nearly so big, and there's a little building upwind that smells faintly like the Car's den and the stuff the Floyd man puts on the grass when it is sunny and hot outside. Besides that, Harpo can only see and smell the tall pine trees waving in the wind.
Picking at random, Harpo lopes off towards the odd-smelling small building, intending to get a good wiff to learn who owns it, and to stake Harpo's claim to the site. Around the corner of the big building Harpo can see a big patch of some green bushes making a break in the trees, but that's a landmark for another time. The blood of Harpo's vigilant sheepdog ancestors urges Harpo to keep Harpo's attention on the goal. The wind does not deter him as his nose searches the air for more clues about the little building.
Harpo stops.
Harpo smells raccoons.Harpo is unsure if Harpo should get close enough for a proper smell, if there are raccoons about.
Floyd drives the car to the garage, opens the garage, puts the car away, closes the garage, and starts unpacking things - starting with the food, then his tools. Once his tools are unpacked, he'll examine the garage itself and get an idea of what he's going to be working with. The other stuff can wait until the kids have picked their rooms. Garen's particular about his set-up anyway, so Floyd knows there's no point in getting his stuff out at least until the boy's ready for it.
...Floyd holds up his hands defensively at his wife's admonishment. Putting the Cyclone in first, Floyd rolls toward the garage recently vacated by the hasty Mr. Kingston. Parking inside, Floyd is happy to see that the garage is rather spacious, with room for six cars. The walls are lined with shelves, though disappointingly they are empty of any tools. Not a big deal; Floyd prefers his own set anyway.
Climbing out of the car, Floyd stamps his boots, shivering in the cold. He hadn't thought to bring a space heater; working on the Cyclone could be
cold this winter if he doesn't find one in the Mansion someplace. Putting that thought on his to-do list for another day, Floyd sets about unpacking. The Cyclone is a beautiful car- or will be, at any rate- but it isn't so great on the storage space. The trunk is absolutely packed with the family's possessions. Fortunately, the first thing he wants to get out is the food, and the cooler is right on top. They'd had snacks on the trip up, so the cooler wasn't even especially heavy.
Grabbing his burden, Floyd walks up to the Mansion's front door, then balances the cooler on one knee as he works open the door. Sliding inside, Floyd kicks the door shut, then repeats the process with the
inner door. Okay, maybe the cooler was a little heavy. Looking around inside, he sees a light coming from the kitchen, and walks over.
Mary-Anne waves at him, smiling happily. "Put it over there, dear, and I'll have dinner ready in two shakes."
Grunting, Floyd obediently deposits the cooler on the indicated table, and begins walking back toward the garage, already planning where to store his tools.
He doesn't even get to the foyer when he hears his wife's despairing wail.
Go inside, check out the kitchen I have to work with (What stove, how much cabinet space, how much fridge space, etc). That done, grab the food from wherever Floyd stuck it after parking the car and start preparing simple sandwiches.
...Patting her husband on the back as he returns to the car, Mary-Anne turns toward the Mansion, following the path of the frantic race of the children at a much more dignified pace. She closes the front door after herself as she enters the foyer, shutting away the icy wind that feels more appropriate for December than October. In addition to the benches running along each wall, the foyer contains a half dozen umbrella stands and coat-racks, as well as a pair of large coat cubbies flanking the front doors.
Shedding her own coat and placing it neatly on a nearby rack, Mary-Anne continues inside, closing the inner door behind her as well. The Mansion's interior is comfortably warm compared to the chilly outdoors. There is very little in this room apart from the upstair, and seems to be a sort of central reception area for the Mansion with a glossy hardwood floor and ornate molding on the walls and ceiling. There are four other doors leading from this room, and using her woman's intuition (a particularly strong sense with Mary-Anne) she picks the smallest door, right next to the stairs.
Her guess is a good one, and she finds herself in the kitchens. Flipping the lightswitch illuminates a large room with a low roof, packed with ovens, stoves, griddles, prep tables, cupboards, hanging pots and pans, and an industrial-sized dishwasher, as well as a pair of walk-in freezers and a huge refrigerator located next to the narrow stairs to the cellar. While the rest of the Mansion seems designed to impress, the kitchen is quite functional, with simple tile flooring and practical white lighting.
Nodding to herself in satisfaction, Mary-Anne sets about taking inventory. The refrigerator is well stocked with condiments, but is otherwise empty. The freezers are packed with large hunks of meat and bags of vegetables, plenty for the family to make it through the winter courtesy of the Weatherford Group. The cupboards are equally well stocked with dishes and all manner of dry ingredients, and the drawers have enough utensils that the family could use a fresh set every day and still not run out before the spring thaw. Though of course, that would mean doing an
awful lot of dishes before leaving.
Mary-Anne crosses her arms, happy that everything in the kitchen is as the Weathorford Group had advertised. Being isolated in the mountains without fresh meat and vegetables- and
milk!- was sure to get boring over a long winter, but there was plenty of variety available in their diet to offset that lack. Humming quietly to herself, Mary-Anne bustles about, retrieving condiments and clearing a space for sandwich making.
Mary-Anne smiles happily as Floyd walks in with the cooler, the last fresh food they'll have until spring. "Put it over there, dear, and I'll have dinner ready in two shakes."
Floyd grunts, setting the cooler on the table next to the sandwich supplies and going back outside to finish unpacking. Mary-Anne walks over, flipping back the lid and pulling out her ingredients; two loaves of bread (white and wheat,) a few sticks of butter (there's some in the Mansion's fridge, but no sense leaving it home to go to waste,) the tray of sandwich meat...
Mary-Anne cries out in dismay. The turkey, the ham, the roast beef- it was all fresh when they left home!
But now it's spoiled and rotten, the beef splotched and green, the ham moldy, the turkey sitting in a pile of juice so rancid it's all she can do to avoid vomiting in disgust. A week's worth of lunchmeat, rotten and decayed so rapidly.
The only other meat in the Mansion is frozen solid. Even the vegetables are frozen.
Dinner is ruined.Floyd the FatherObjective:
Unpack the car!AP:
3/3XP:
0/10Status: Normal
Inventory: Manilla Folder (last seen on Cyclone passenger seat)
Traits:
Gearhead Mary-Anne the MotherObjective:
Feed the family!AP:
3/3XP:
0/10Status: Normal
Inventory: None
Traits:
Mama's Healing Kisses Garen the TeenagerObjective:
Get the best room!AP: 3/3XP: 0/5Status: Normal
Inventory: Nintendo DSi
Traits: Diverse Interests (Geography) Maryn the Little KidObjective:
Get the best room!AP: 3/3XP: 0/10Status: Normal
Inventory: None
Traits: Curious Little Monkey Harpo the Family Dog.Objective:
SMELL EVERYTHINGAP: 3/3XP: 0/10Status: Normal
Inventory: None
Trait: Loyal Companion
((Technically, derails are a gray area unless Monk takes the field. Insults are the only thing that's been done thus far that constitute a clear violation of the guidelines, and GL's posts are honestly pretty tame.))
My official stance would against derails, particularly ones that would be better served as their own game. I don't know as it kills threads, but it certainly kills mood. I don't mind OOC chatter if people want to kibitz or comment or whatever, just try to keep vaguely on-topic. Alternatively, we can do an IC/OOC thread setup if people feel strongly about it.
Also, brief style note for people who haven't seen me do things before, the dice rolls should be visible if you hover your mouse over the "..." near the beginning of each action, as well as the applicable modifiers and whatever. I also roll dice every turn, even if the action is so simple it does not require a roll (e.g the "Race Upstairs" actions, though greater disparity in the results there would have given one child an edge.)
Author
Topic: Winter on the Mountain: Round 2 (Read 12004 times)