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The car door opened and a pair of heels that were worn by a lady named Giselle Attwater. She looked up at the manor that was held by the late Mr. Wallace, which actually was very elegant. She could use this place back at the office to her clients if she actually inherited the place, or maybe she could use this place to be her home away from home.

She walked up to the heavy wooden doors, which creaked open. She looked at the old gentleman that looked like he belonged in the manor. He looked like he belonged in that old movie Clue that she saw when she was younger.

"Welcome." he greeted her. He had that kind of look that reminded her of some grandpa. He led her through the manor to one of the rooms, where one other guest was waiting. He did look that he did take his time to properly dress for such an event. She took a seat on one of the velvet chairs, waiting to see if anyone else was going to come to the manor as well.

With each new arrival his dark green eyes would flick back almost mechanically to observe and evaluate their presence. A nicely dressed woman had taken a seat in one of the velvet chairs on the other side of the room, keeping to herself and making things much easier on Calvin. The less socializing he was forced to do, the better.
Coming off as being rude was something he wanted to avoid, especially if he was to inherit wealth from this Wallace character and there was the chance that she was a close relative of his.
In fact, perhaps he should have done better research to determine what the actual relationship between the real Visher family and Renald Wallace had been. In any case, he could wing it. As long as he could play along and play it off well without going into unnecessary details he would be set. This doesn't even come close to the challenges of some previous jobs he'd been in; From his experiences with his jobs he knew that people were mostly trusting and unaware, so this should be easy.

Like a strong wind rustling up the leaves of his thoughts, the next arrival casually walked into the room and made himself quite at home. The young man's greeting seemed rushed and empty somehow, so it wasn't hard for Calvin to just nod in response and consider that adequate. He knew he wouldn't be able to do that again and get away with it without being seen in a bad light if he was spoken to again by this seemingly friendly possible relative to the late Wallace. With the little amount of time it had taken the newcomer to make himself relaxed and comfortable in such an uncommonly grand household it wasn't an empty assumption.

It wasn't much longer before an even younger man made an appearance, his blue hair coordinating with a blue and black suit. Though he seemed to be well-polished himself for someone so young, even he was obviously intrigued by the manner of decor in this manor. Going off of behavior alone, Calvin was going to assume that this particular newcomer was unfamiliar with this household, possibly unfamiliar with the family like himself.

The next arrival Calvin didn't so much as take a quick glance at before sizing him up sufficiently enough. He gave off the air of not caring about the home he was in or the other people in it beyond what they might do to him.

Returning his eyes to the window he began to gather up all of his thoughts and organize them. Nothing had really been complicated by these new people showing themselves; he would still receive what it was stated he would receive regardless. The only thing that mattered was keeping it cool and simple.

TAG: All

Mehllie frowned as she stepped forward towards the Mansion...She got a bad feeling just by looking at this place: There are friendlier looking dark alleys. Ah well. She unwrinkled her cardigan and straightened her jeans while she brushed a few loose strands of her snowy, blue-tipped hair away from her eyes and neatly placed it behind her ear while blinking and taking in the scenery. It would have been a beautiful mansion had it not been for the impending feeling of doom the Mansions aura gave off. Admittedly, she would also feel A LOT more at ease if she knew in case she HAD to flee that there was somewhere to flee to...on the ride here she stopped seeing other places the last half-hour or so of the taxi ride, and even if she COULD run, she'd get caught if she ran down the road and LOST if she tried to navigate through the surrounding forest. Already things weren't looking good. Forcing away the feeling of dread, she decided she'll look for a map first thing and took a deep breath as she wrestled with her conscience while walking ever closer to the door that seemed to know she was there given it automatically opened for her.

Was she a sell out for being here? Was she really so desperate for money she'd go to a clearly dangerous place just for a slight chance at winning some cash? When put THAT WAY, she kind of felt like a prostitute, even though THERE WAS NO WAY she was ever going to sleep with anybody here. She already HAD someone she liked. Still, the reason for being here was no different than a prostitutes reason for banging strangers: Money.

No, no! This is DIFFERENT. She needs this money. Nothing was more important to her than getting money for a decent place to live and a good college education. She was tired of merely being known as a circus performer, even if she once lived in the lap of luxury. She wanted to be something great enough to earn the fame and fortune, not just rely on Lady Luck. She wanted to walk down the street and have people know her name. She could just envision walking down the street one day and hearing:



Or maybe she could be a doctor...or a scientist...or a veterinarian...maybe a famous novelist!

The sky's the limit.

She nodded vehemently to herself, smiled, and pressed on, clearly fighting off her conscious (and possibly common sense) while permanently deciding to stay in this place FOR HER FUTURE, which the money she would, or might, win here could easily provide.

She was getting ahead herself as she greeted the Butler back heartily and followed him to a room with a bunch of faces she didn't know. Her stomach sort of lurched: She was a performer, so she was used to lots of people staring at her, but she couldn't help but feel hopeless when looking around and knowing every single person here could win the money just as easily as she could. She shyly began to filter her fingers through her hair from her ponytail that was hanging on her shoulder and then slightly waved a greeting at all present while cracking a small smile. She would have attempted an ACTUAL greeting, but she feared if she attempted to do so it would be the equivalent of a kitten TRYING to meow and the result being soundless, and the last thing she needed was people thinking she was an easy target. Every single person in this room, admitting it to themselves or not, became enemies the minute they walked through that door and Mehllie knew it.

It looked like she was in for some hot competition, but she didn't mind. All competition would do is just make the sweet taste of victory THAT much sweeter.

TAG: All~