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Post by The Astronomer on Jun 23, 2015 22:20:42 GMT
The Wolfshead Valley is notoriously rugged and impassable in many areas, providing an excellent environment for those desiring privacy, and having the wealth and/or will to achieve. In one such crevice sat Olympus, a grand estate that may have once been intended as a ski resort before its first owner and architect christened its foyer with his pregnant wife's blood, and smeared her bodily fluids across the walls in what he claimed to be the language of Heaven. For forty years, it remained closed, with interested parties lacking the cash to maintain it, and wealthy parties lacking the nerve to overcome its gruesome reputation. Eventually, just after the Reign, Olympus was acquired on behalf of the Trustwell Corporation. Today, Lionel Hargrave resides there, ostensibly alone except for certain staff and employees. Parties are regularly held here by Ambrosia's elite, as well as business conferences, but typically, it is the abode of one very private individual.  |
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Post by The Astronomer on Jun 23, 2015 22:29:26 GMT
****
Hargrave's driver was a young man, cleanshaven, thin. He had a friendly, but had said nothing the entire half-hour trip.
"He's also a fine helicopter pilot." was all Hargrave had stated on him. Otherwise, he shared drinks with Miss Veronica Somerset, and shared stories that had no discernible value beyond their humorous nature. Eventually, he asked, "How old are you?"
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Post by Rory Hamilton on Jun 23, 2015 22:31:58 GMT
"How old do you think i am?" she asked, with a smile, moving her hair off of her face, to give him a good look at her youthful complexion.
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Post by The Astronomer on Jun 24, 2015 0:35:23 GMT
He reached over and gently stroked her face, tracing his thump over her lips. "Eighteen... Early twenties at most. Your eyes seem older, more experienced though..."
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Post by Rory Hamilton on Jun 24, 2015 12:12:56 GMT
"You're exactly right" she said with a smile, leaning into his hand. She did not want to guess his age out loud, invade he looked well for his years, not that that mattered, she was here for work. If she had to guess, late twenties.
"I like to think I've seen plenty for my years."
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Post by The Astronomer on Jun 25, 2015 23:26:24 GMT
"I think I believe you."
The massive gates opened inward of their own accord. Rory could makes out several cameras along the walls and perhaps, what appeared to be a pair of hovering cameradrones patrolling the property. It was difficult to tell if they were armed, but it wasn't unlikely.
"Sorry for the fascist atmosphere, but Olympus is, legally speaking, Trustwell property. I normally live here alone with a few caretakers. For functions, the drones go back in the garage, where they're not making important people nervous." He chuckled at the thought.
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Post by Rory Hamilton on Jun 26, 2015 13:09:53 GMT
"That sounds sad" she said, giving him a small smile, "all this space and no one to share it with, except staff and drones."
She did smile more broadly when he mentioned the functions " kinda funny really, when you have your most important people here, security takes a back bench to comfort."
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Post by The Astronomer on Jun 27, 2015 23:50:44 GMT
"I'd like to imagine its only the appearance of security that diminishes." They pulled up the entrance, the house spreading out as far she could make out in the dark. Hargrave got out first, before helping her exit the vehicle. "Welcome to Olympus, sweet goddess. Watch out for bolts lightning."
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Post by Rory Hamilton on Jun 28, 2015 14:34:36 GMT
Rory got out of the car with incredible grace in the short black dress. Keeping hold of his hand as she took in the building.
"Most impressive" she said, meaning it, looking at the buildings facade,but not intimidated by it, she was used to buildings of colossal size from when she was younger. The family lived in the city most of the time, but their huge estates in the country, were impressive.
"If this is Olympus. Does that make you Zeus?"
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Post by The Astronomer on Jul 3, 2015 17:33:32 GMT
"I always related more to Poseidon, to be honest. The sky is mercurial and mysterious. The sea is harsh, but brings life as well, and the mysteries are a little more practical."
The foyer/chamber/ballroom was large enough to fit a private airplane. The floors were marble, the chandeliers almost certainly actual gold, and the architecture somewhat evocative of great Victorian style houses Rory had grown up in, only the scale being positively medieval. It was like the modern American equivalent of Windsor.
In the room's center stood three people, whom Lionel introduced. "My chief of security, Frank Carver. My sort of but not quite butler, Stephen Bentley. And my cook, Miss Mariko Takahashi." They nodded politely, though only Bentley smiled. Only Carver seemed old enough to have graduated college, appearing in his thirties. Like his employer, he was well-built, but almost certainly via the hard way.
"If you need anything from them, feel free to ask, but most of the house is locked down and handled by computer except for big gatherings or visits from the Trustwell board. I don't think I've even seen all of it yet myself."
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Post by Rory Hamilton on Oct 31, 2015 17:39:26 GMT
"Pleased to meet all of you," with the two being so young, we imagined they could be Starborn, so knew she would have to be careful, depending on abilities they might have,
"I am sure I can cope without having twenty bathrooms to choose from." she grinned and looked round, "How often does Trustwell have parties here, it must look so wonderful, to have this room full of people in gowns and suits... like a King's Court"
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Post by The Astronomer on Oct 31, 2015 17:55:22 GMT
"Every once in a while. The New Year's Ball, a few corporate gatherings. We had a Halloween party once that would make Aleister Crowley blush." He pointed at a spot on the floor near Rory's feet. "An American President once passed out right there. To be fair, he was only on on the floor for perhaps thirty seconds before his security detail picked him back up."
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Post by Rory Hamilton on Oct 31, 2015 18:21:26 GMT
"I wonder if it'd make me blush" Rory nodded as he spoke, taking the information in with an amused grin. "I am surprised a President would come to a town like this, guess your company must really be impressive. "
"She looked round the room again, "Why don't you tell me more about your companies parties while you show me the rest of the houses open rooms?"
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Post by The Astronomer on Oct 31, 2015 18:53:31 GMT
He gave her a practiced pout. "Have I lost your interest so soon?"
Nevertheless, he lead her to what seemed to be a dinner parlor, if he was feeding Parliament. "This room always makes me feel like Charles Foster Kane. Separated from my companions by mere furniture." He lead her to a cupboard, and poured her a bottle of something that looked to cost her a year of wages. "This scotch was bottled on the tenth Jubilee of the second Elizabeth's reign. I thought you might like a taste." He poured a small glass. "Sir Matthew Harker would sell state secrets for a taste from this bottle, or so he claims." He chuckled as he passed her the glass.
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Post by Rory Hamilton on Oct 31, 2015 19:03:30 GMT
"Lost my interest? Not at all, my request to see the house shows how much I am interested in you. Have you ever read Pride and Prejudice? Well in that the true character of the person is revealed by the dwelling they own, take for example Mr. Darcy, his true personality and good natured spirit is hidden from view, until you make the effort to get close enough to get past the trees... then the beauty of Pemberley is a metaphor for the goodness of his character, inside and out." Rory explained, "You can always judge someone on the state of where they live."
"I do love whiskey," she reminded and wondered if he mentioned Harker specifically, but she smiled and took the glass taking a small sip, letting it flood her palate for a second.
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