The majority of the cast members shut their eyes, though not all, with the few still keeping their eyes fixed on Leota's glowing head.
"Focus, now, mortals, there is much to hear; past edges of awareness, it will all become clear." The air becomes heavier against everyone's skin. "Haunts of the Mansion, it's time to respond; send us a message from somewhere beyond." At the card table, three knocks are heard.
Her call is really a truncated version of the spiel the guests hear, and delivered with much less mysticism. Spooking is always a source of enjoyment, but this is simply work. It may even sound amusing. The Host certainly thinks so, though he's heard it enough he can keep it hidden well as she continues, asking for mortals to pay attention and ghosts to reach out.
And it works.
The ghoul at the table is the one that catches most attention, in the center of it all, wearing a tophat. He grins at his mortal opponent in the game, who mock-scowls back. When he notices Rute's eyes on him, the grin grows, and he tips his hat her way.
A few wisps--closer to bedsheet-type ghosts than skeletons or living people--have decided to make the sinks their home, quietly chattering to each other in their respective tubs.
The Host, of course, is no more visible than before. "A rather simple task," he says to Rute, halfway to inquiring. He really does hope she's not panicking.
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"Focus, now, mortals, there is much to hear; past edges of awareness, it will all become clear." The air becomes heavier against everyone's skin. "Haunts of the Mansion, it's time to respond; send us a message from somewhere beyond." At the card table, three knocks are heard.
Her call is really a truncated version of the spiel the guests hear, and delivered with much less mysticism. Spooking is always a source of enjoyment, but this is simply work. It may even sound amusing. The Host certainly thinks so, though he's heard it enough he can keep it hidden well as she continues, asking for mortals to pay attention and ghosts to reach out.
And it works.
The ghoul at the table is the one that catches most attention, in the center of it all, wearing a tophat. He grins at his mortal opponent in the game, who mock-scowls back. When he notices Rute's eyes on him, the grin grows, and he tips his hat her way.
A few wisps--closer to bedsheet-type ghosts than skeletons or living people--have decided to make the sinks their home, quietly chattering to each other in their respective tubs.
The Host, of course, is no more visible than before. "A rather simple task," he says to Rute, halfway to inquiring. He really does hope she's not panicking.