« Last post by The Guide on March 04, 2014, 01:19:05 AM »
Sebastian peeks in the front window, and confirms that no interior lights are on. A couch is backed to the window, and Sebastian looks in upon a neatly furnished, wood accented, living/dining room area. Wooden stairs to the second level can be seen to the left. There is no sign of anyone indoors.
As Birchard and Alex make introductions Sebastian's attention is directed more towards the rear of the cabin. Poking his head around a bit, he can see the edges of a two-level deck with outdoor stairs, and the side screened wall of a porch area. A foot-worn path is very evident starting from the entrance way, turning around the side of the building and terminating in the deck area.
It is 8:40 pm.
The doorknob, surprisingly is not as tacky as it looks, and scrapes underneath Alex's fingernails as she tries the door. The stuff is soft, but cakey…like a putty or paste beginning to dry. Unfortunately, her hands are dirtied for nothing as the doorknob--and thus the door--does not budge.
"Mister Prince? Your guests are here!" Into the darkness Sebastian's shout is swallowed by the gloom. To his mild surprise, he gets an answer. From the woods behind the back yard clearing he hears a rustle of underbrush, and a woman's voice, soft but clear:
"Discovery? I'm coming."
A moment later a form emerges from the darkening shadows of the trees, and into the yard. The blond woman wears a coat much too heavy for the season under which a short floral print dress can be seen, though the cooler night air has begun to raise a goose bump or two on uncovered skin. She wears a flower in her hair and carries a plastic grocery bag in one hand, while the other fumbles for and then ultimately produces a key from her pocket.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, I'm Kelsey, your poor hostess. Only the one of you?" Kelsey answers her own question as she rounds the corner. "Oh." She stops in her tracks before reaching the door, and her head begins to bob as she counts each person with her chin, including the newly arrived Sebastian, silently mouthing her count up to: "Four."
She frowns a moment, thinking. "Okay, that'll work. Sorry I'm late," she says again, repeating herself for the others by the door, "Gregg had to work late, and I had to go grab some things we really needed for tonight. I would have left a note, but I thought I'd be back on time, and the line at the store…"
Kelsey trails off as the door swings open. She hoists her grocery bag onto a chair and flips on the lights. "Please, have a seat. Make yourself at home. Will one of you guys get the fire going?" she asks, motioning to the fireplace. "Gregg usually does that. I can manage, but I'm sure one of you can do it faster. He'll be here later on."
She hangs up her coat in a closet next to the door, and leaves it open as she glides into the kitchen, disappearing with her grocery bag.
"Do you know if anyone else was in your row?" She calls from the kitchen, her voice accompanied by the clatter of cabinets. "It's possible we may have six here tonight. Or were you it?"
Kelsey's voice, now that everyone's heard it for a while, is downright peculiar. Well not her voice exactly, which is soft and pleasant enough, but her tone. Her pitch.
Each one of her phrases starts out high, and then drops continually until its termination. Not a drop in each and every word, necessarily, but the movement in pitch is always in the same direction: downhill. It is particularly noticeable when she asks a question, it coming out sounding like the rhetorical baby questioning a grandmother might use on her grandchild:
been a good
Her declarative's had the same unusual plunging path, giving her what seemed to be an 'Eeyore-like' resignation to her thoughts…as if she knew each one was slipping down a slope, but would be pulled back up the mountain before it reached its final destination, only to have the process repeated as she began her next sentence. The woman seemed, though pleasant enough, a reversed verbal Sisyphus.
Running water turns off, and Kelsey Prince returns, shaking a pair of wet hands.