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Her toy? Maggie loved it. She wanted to be the kind of woman who had toys. In truth, she lacked the stomach and was a romantic, but she idealized the kind of bad a** bitches who got what they wanted from a partner and then moved right on. Trampling the patriarchy, one dude at a time. Maggie even had a shirt about it, well the trampling the patriarchy bit, but even if she believed it, she didn't quite live it as well as she thought she did.

The pictures were interesting, the kind of weird eclectic thing Maggie had on her Pinterest board, the sort of I'm interesting decoration that she enjoyed. Her eyes lingered on the shadowy silhouette against the trees, picking up on the purple. "Cool effect," she said to herself, as though she had found an Easter egg in a video game. So the photos weren't real then, just purchased to add to the ambiance. It made her a little sad, took away some of the magic of the old manor to see something so modern as Photoshop. Maybe they would play a game later and this was some hidden clue? At least she'd have a leg up on the competition.

Her normal detective skills would normally have had her pointing this out to Ebony, asking where she had gotten the print and if the artist did custom work or not, but she was too nervous about the looming arrival of her incoming blind date that she was distracted. She was so focused on each man arriving that she even overlooked that Marnie, a friend of hers, was here. If only the stairs weren't roped off, she could stand at the top, just to descend at the perfect moment to make an impression.

Instead, the girl tried to find an excuse to stay where she was, if only to see each and every guest as they entered. So far, a lot of them seemed to be arriving with dates. Maggie pouted. She glanced up at the chandelier briefly, using it as an excuse to steal another glance at the door, but the pictures were really her only logical distraction. Playing on her phone came to mind, but it kind of distracted from the allure of her outfit -- plus fishing it out of her bra where it was nestled would be awkward way to meet her date.

So, instead, she glanced over the photo with the purple effect, trying to ascertain if she recognized the location from somewhere around town or any other identifying characteristics. Was it nearby? So much of DC had been developed, but there were still some forests on the outskirts.

Nearby, someone tripped on the rug. Penny didn't bother to hide her snort of amusement.

The watery rattling of the 8-Ball when she shook it became clear when Krystal gave it a shake of her own. Oh cool, a magic 8-Ball. "My idea of fun once upon a time would be to get high and ask one of those things the fate of all the people I hated," she said, tipping her wine glass back for another gulp. "Probably makes for a shitty game of pool though." It would make for a fun little detail in the story. A house of charms and hidden Halloween fun! From the magic 8-Ball on the pool table to... She'd have to figure out the rest as the night went on, and really, she shouldn't be figuring it out by herself at all. Where was that goddamn reporter?

If business was what the Roses were looking for, having a spot on DCNN would help. Penny planned to keep that in her back pocket, see if they would let her film a little bit inside the house too, but she didn't want to ask just yet. Better to take a lay of the land first, just in case asking the question caused her to be asked to leave. Rich people could be weird.

"You should offer the place to one of those ghost hunting shows. You'd be booked solid for a year after it aired. People love to scare themselves. Always seemed masochistic to me. Just fill a room with a bunch of creepy old dolls, and they'd script, cut, and print an hour's worth of bullshit about one of them moving or disappearing or some other fake s**t in a snap." She snapped, for effect. There was enough stuff that was actually bad in the world. You'd think that being a mystical creature herself would have opened Penny up to the idea that other magic could be real but... nope. Not at all. "Oh hey, while I have you -- where can I smoke? A cigarette. Is there a patio or back garden or something? Or a cigar room?" she asked Krystal Rose. A lot of young people sounded annoying, which would shorten the already short span that she could last without a cigarette. It's a reason she still liked to drive most distances, if they weren't too long.

Bo Hanley arrived remarkably under-dressed and over-intoxicated, peeking his head through the door with a look of happy surprise as if he had been somewhere else, opened a closet door, and found Narnia. "Well, aren't you lovely," he said in a pleasant slur, booping Ebony Rose on the nose, "boop."

It was more of a drive-by booping, as he swept right past the lovely hostess in a flash, not waiting for a response. His flip-flops slapped noisily and wetly against the floors; it appeared as those he had no idea it was fall, in his cargo shorts and loose tank top -- were it not for the sky blue hoodie draped over his massively tall frame. He bobbed and weaved as if he knew where he was going, which he did not, and then followed his heart to the kitchen, where it smelled amazing, as if he were a waiter late to work. Ignoring any sign he should not be there, Bo took a seat on a small crate and smiled widely at any of the staff passing by, looking for anything interesting. Which, since it was Bo, could be a particularly lovely glint of light off one of the many knives.

Instantly, Maggie recognized the location and maybe Charonite with a gasp, and turned to face Ebony, shouting, "J'Accuse~" as she pointed a shaking arm, taut with fury. Just kidding. Maggie knows nothing so she's all like, Oh, cool, trees, cool cool. And then continued her very obvious staring at the door, willing her prince to come.

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Penny liked being called "dear" almost as much as she liked being told she couldn't smoke, or what to do in general. She smiled, kind of, with a hint of sneer. "If this house is as old as claimed, I imagine smoke penetrated these walls a long time ago. The antiques too, if they are really originals." Hm, maybe the story would take more of a this is all manufactured bullshit, don't buy into it angle. That was more of the kind of story she liked to tell. There wasn't a question there. She just waited to see how Krystal might react.

Penrose Lovelace - The Foyer


Really, he was still trying to figure out why on earth Dmitri was here with him, rather than one of the others. Penrose would have preferred Nevada's company to the dentist's, but, well...they were teammates, even if Pen felt like strangling him half of the time.

Or all of the time.

His eyes moved down to the phone in Dmitri's hand and rolled his eyes. "Stop that," said Pen, resisting the urge of slapping it out of his fingers. "Don't be bloody stupid. My lack of ambition has nothing to do with any of this, at any rate; and besides, I quite admire my ability in that regard."

He did prize himself on being awesome, after all. Pen pointed a finger at his companion.

"No attacking anyone," he said sternly, and reached out a hand, plucking at the white ribbon that tied off the staircase. "Hmm. Do you think there's anything interesting up there?"

Jacqueline Maaz - Dinning room

The rush of relief that washed over Jack as Fiona called her name was so palpable it was obvious in the lines of her face. She took an unconscious step forward to meet the other girl before she and her date had completely crossed the room towards her, and when Fiona was in range for it dark hands reaching out to circle pale wrists.

Honest to God, the photographer didn't know when exactly she'd got so clingy, but she couldn't pretend it hadn't happened.

"Hi! You look so beautiful!" She gushed as she looked her friend over from the bundle of curls supporting her tiara and down to the hem of her lovely dress. Fiona always seemed so dignified to Jack, almost regal, so her being a princess made perfect sense.

As her boyfriend was introduced the brunette stepped back, letting Fiona's arms go almost reluctantly before turning a brilliantly friendly smile up to Pat. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." She took his hand with her's, grip delicate. "And yes. Thank you."

Jada - Foyer

The kids were being cared for this evening, and Jada had decided that she was going to make an appearance at the Hillworth Manor party. One of the oldest estates in the area, Jada had never been invited to see the inside. The owners, it seemed, had been very private, for practically her whole life. She hadn't exactly costumed it up for this party, playing it 'safe' with a 1920's and Gatsby-style sequined gown- black and a hint of gold, floor length, with lots of shimmer every time she shimmied. She bound her hair up tightly into a sleek bun, and smokey eyes and her usual bright red lipstick finished off the outfit.

Stepping into the foyer, she was glad she had played it safe- the foyer was such that her mother would have choked and started renovations on the mansion immediately. Dark panels, bright chandelier, the room was built to glitter, and Jada loved it. "Your home is lovely," she told Ebony Rose, purple eyes flicking up to the portraits. She passed over the coat that she'd thrown over her bare arms to the other woman, flicking her eyes away from the paintings, and focusing on the woman instead. "The rain is getting to be something awful, out there. Odd, I didn't think it was going to be raining when I left home."

Then again, Jada had never been one for checking the weather.

Robert Banks - Dining Room


The hand on his back had his shoulders suddenly straightening, the knight-in-training standing at attention from the pressure being added on top of the soft words reminding him that it wasn't worth the temptation to give in to a temporary calling.

Mory's words, however, quickly brought about a much needed distraction.

"You think so?" He smirked at the compliment, the smirk quickly shifting as she finished her sentence - a perfect royal couple.

Well, so much for being inconspicuous.

Hazel eyes lifted to meet silver as if to silently ask did you say something? before darting back over to the teenager with her hands on her hips.

"Pretty sure knights should stick together," he pointed out playfully, slightly nervous as to what the girl could mean by the men having other goals. "Especially if the ringleader of this little organization is intending on gorging herself sick."

Turning to the white haired, golden crown wearing Russian to ask his opinion, he watched as the burly man got his hand pricked by the old table.

"Or maybe we should watch out for our Prince's safety," he added dryly, offering his hand out towards the younger man, the other hand reaching down to snag the spare tape he'd stowed away, as some of his "armor" had required attention prior to their departure from the Kavinsky apartment. "Let me have a look, your Highness."