Most of the bells have spaces where labels should be, though only a single bell seems to have one (entitled "Master Gracey's Bedchamber"), and it's worn nearly to illegibility. Only cobweb or two, at least, on the highest ones.
The chill that followed the old caretaker in follows him right back out. The Host, naturally, had been drifting along behind his back the entire time. It's helpful to get a good look at new mortals and their reactions, and he had easily waved the single haunt to wait. 'Miss Mirabelle', no last name. The caretaker should well and truly know by now single-name applicants aren't ones he particularly has the skills to deal with in this capacity.
After all are settled in to wait, the Host begins at the start, and the young lady ghost passes with flying colors. (Not that it's difficult for the dead--a few questions to be sure they don't utterly despise mortals, a check to be certain of if they've killed another human before and if a victim is already housed within, and a chat about eras and previous life/hauntings to be certain settling in isn't going to be a total shock and to anticipate whether or not they could fully pass on before long.)
It's barely over a quarter of an hour later that he moves on to the next: one Rute Albuquerque Fernandes. He doesn't have the highest hopes, but he's been proven wrong before. She appears young, but most living beings do to his eyes. Some are unsettled by concern of mortal axe-murderers and shrug spirits off easily. Some. Her jumpiness could be that sort.
Two smart knocks announce him before the door, once again, opens. There's a paper hanging in his hand--in midair, to mortal eyes.
"Miss Fernandes," the Host's voice begins in the doorway, "Welcome! Welcome to our most Haunted Mansion. And don't worry, I don't require shaking hands." In either sense. Panic isn't entirely helpful here, no matter how fun, and some job seekers attempting to be brave don't know quite where to put their hands in the first place.
He allows the door to shut behind him before he continues, floating until halting on the other side of the table, allowing the paper to gently fall onto the dark wood. "I am the majordomo of this Mansion, the Ghost Host, the one in charge of the various butlers and maids, living and deceased. You did apply to the, ah...'guiding maid' position, didn't you? They do change that title every so often in the adverts, I fear."
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syntheid
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Date: 2018-12-27 10:21 am (UTC)The chill that followed the old caretaker in follows him right back out. The Host, naturally, had been drifting along behind his back the entire time. It's helpful to get a good look at new mortals and their reactions, and he had easily waved the single haunt to wait. 'Miss Mirabelle', no last name. The caretaker should well and truly know by now single-name applicants aren't ones he particularly has the skills to deal with in this capacity.
After all are settled in to wait, the Host begins at the start, and the young lady ghost passes with flying colors. (Not that it's difficult for the dead--a few questions to be sure they don't utterly despise mortals, a check to be certain of if they've killed another human before and if a victim is already housed within, and a chat about eras and previous life/hauntings to be certain settling in isn't going to be a total shock and to anticipate whether or not they could fully pass on before long.)
It's barely over a quarter of an hour later that he moves on to the next: one Rute Albuquerque Fernandes. He doesn't have the highest hopes, but he's been proven wrong before. She appears young, but most living beings do to his eyes. Some are unsettled by concern of mortal axe-murderers and shrug spirits off easily. Some. Her jumpiness could be that sort.
Two smart knocks announce him before the door, once again, opens. There's a paper hanging in his hand--in midair, to mortal eyes.
"Miss Fernandes," the Host's voice begins in the doorway, "Welcome! Welcome to our most Haunted Mansion. And don't worry, I don't require shaking hands." In either sense. Panic isn't entirely helpful here, no matter how fun, and some job seekers attempting to be brave don't know quite where to put their hands in the first place.
He allows the door to shut behind him before he continues, floating until halting on the other side of the table, allowing the paper to gently fall onto the dark wood. "I am the majordomo of this Mansion, the Ghost Host, the one in charge of the various butlers and maids, living and deceased. You did apply to the, ah...'guiding maid' position, didn't you? They do change that title every so often in the adverts, I fear."