When hinges creak in doorless chambers...

[hatchethanging]

 
 

 

 
 







Welcome, foolish mortals,
to the Haunted Mansion.



Watch your step on the way in, please.

 

Comments

[cessation_rites]

So a mascot-slash-helper-animal (Though Rute assumes the raven mascot isn’t as useful in the latter category because your average raven, while extremely clever, is also a bird with its own bird priorities.) and a tendency to attract strays. “That should be fine,” Rute says, and while the Host’s quip doesn’t get an answering chuckle by any means, it does gets a small smile out of her.

Still, it’s not enough to cancel out the fact she is severely out of her depth right now. There are a few more questions on either end about things like the uniform, the work schedule, other details about the job, and prior work experience on Rute’s part, all of which she’s able to get through well enough (though she’s deliberately vague on more personal points) but all the stuff about ghosts and veils and the ethereal whatnots is... overwhelming. And she can’t stop tensing up whenever anything especially startling or ghostly happens, although she at least doesn’t yelp after that first time.

Somehow or other they finish going over everything- hopefully, again, certain details are still a LOT to take in- and with the other interviewees waiting, Rute makes to stand up.

She glances around- this would normally be the part where she’d shake her interviewers hand but since he doesn’t have one she’s just. There in the same room he’s sort of there in.

“Well,” she says, “Thank you for your time. And, um, the explanations.” She has a vague feeling she should talk to her family's priest after this.

[hatchethanging]

"It was a pleasure," he returns. "And might I suggest you may wish to take a tour yourself in the near future, Miss Fernandes." It would give her a better idea of the job if these next few interviews go badly. There can never be too many people visiting and being able to spread the word, after all.

He settles to the floor and deliberately allows his steps to be audible. Absolutely no need to startle her more than he already has!

The door opens for her. "Until we meet again," he says.



At the end of the week, Rute's phone rings.

Rings. It doesn't matter what her ringtone is set to, the sound is precisely the noise of antique rotary phones. It's from the Mansion, of course. If she's still interested, the position is open for her.

[cessation_rites]

Rute did wind up talking to the priest later on, though his advice mostly boiled down to “Maybe if you started showing up here every week you wouldn’t have to worry about things like this?” which she suspected had more to do with his concerns about church attendance among The Youths than her actual situation.

She also told her family about the Haunted Mansion, basically as soon as she got home and Babs asked her what her job interview was for. None of them were pleased to hear about it except Tony, who only turned four like a month ago and therefore his opinion didn’t count.

“Rute,” Nelson had said, “You can’t work at a place like that.”

Oddly, even though Rute had been thinking more or less the same thing the entire time, actually hearing her brother-in-law say it out loud was incredibly irritating.

So. She’d be lying if she said spite isn’t a motivator here. But it’s far from the only one! A lot of it is also that the Mansion is the first decent place to get back to her with something other than a variation on “You just don’t seem like the best fit.” And it is decent, if you look at it on paper and ignore the nature of what the Mansion actually is, which is certainly tempting whenever she’s looking at the bills.

And maybe there’s a bit of curiosity. Just maybe.

And she was told there’d be cats.

So instead of getting her phone exorcised, Rute’s response is simply:

“When should I come in?”

[hatchethanging]

She can come in at the start of the next week. And she's very graciously thanked.


When the time comes:

"Welcome, welcome. Well, come in!" the Ghost Host calls her in. He's somewhere near the ceiling, as he prefers to be. "I'll be around for questions later. First, a seasoned mortal member of our staff will teach you a thing or two."

She's bustled by a woman in a somewhat grim maid outfit (her nametag says "Leslie"), deeper down the hall she previously visited as an interviewee. She wasn't the only one hired, but there aren't any others around for training.

Compared to the rest of the Mansion, the mortal staff training room is like stepping back into the outside world. The maid looks completely unfit, with only the worn wood of the floor and old hanging light betraying what it is. The wallpaper design's simple vertical stripes. Tables are like something pulled from an office, magazines (mainly historical) haphazardly tossed atop them. Blunt adverts for the Mansion are on the walls alongside various posters for horror movies and games.

The maid pulls a few boxes out of another room to the side, labelled 'outfits'. "Pick a uniform--changing room's right over there--and you'll be shown around the place, told what to do, how to do it, meeting a few friendly ghouls, all that. Any 'foolish mortals' you meet, you don't need to talk yet. Just don't smile at them. Keep in the mood of a funeral, not pretend cheer from anywhere else you've worked." That's a common enough problem.

[cessation_rites]

Over the weekend Rute’s family is even less pleased to hear she’ll be going into the Mansion again but they don’t bother protesting beyond sighs and frowns.

Poly also calls in between her summer courses and immediately grills Rute on every detail, even the unproductive ones. (“No I didn’t try using an EMF reader. I don’t even know what that- Well why would I be carrying that around?”) This is followed up by a promise to “get to the bottom of this” (“Poly, you really don’t have to do that,”) and that she’d have the results of her research in for Rute in a few weeks.

It’s actually somewhat of a relief when the fateful day arrives, not that it shows on the tremulous expression Rute makes when she hears the Host’s voice again. Though she’s polite enough to nod and say “Hello, again,” in the general vicinity of where she hears him.

(She can almost brush it off as being like listening to someone on a phone or intercom- except that he’s not, he’s just there and invisible because he’s a ghost, and that tiny detail sticks in her mind like a burr.)

Her expression lightens a bit at seeing another human being- “Hi,” she says, “I’m Rute,”- although she still makes her way after Leslie with a definite degree of wariness, half-expecting every door they pass to randomly burst open.

The mortal staff room isn’t quite as comforting as one might expect; it’s a human space, or at least a modern one, but the horror themed decor isn’t exactly to Rute’s taste. Still, it’s not as if it matters. A job’s a job, she’s here to work, so she tries to push her jitters aside and focus more on what Leslie’s saying.

It takes a minute for Rute to pick out a uniform, looking carefully to make sure she grabs one that will actually fit. The official outfits are considerably darker than her usual style but she appreciates that the main color is green. “Right,” she says, once she finally picks out one that seems the right length, “Be out in a bit.”

She slips into the changing room, shuts the door, but before getting to business she pauses. The air in the room feels normal but...

“If there are any ghosts in here,” Rute mutters, attempting to strike a balance between ‘audible to any ghosts but not to Leslie,’ “Get out. I know an exorcist and I will not hesitate to call on him.” Honesty compels her to add, “...Well, I don’t know if he’s actually licensed to perform them but he’s a priest and I’m sure he has connections.”

Having thus attempted to assure herself, Rute changes into the uniform as hurriedly as one can when changing into unfamiliar clothes. She takes a moment afterwards to examine herself critically, making sure she looks okay- she can’t help but snort at the silly bat on the headdress- and once she’s reasonably sure she passes muster, Rute hurries on out again, holding her regular clothes.

“Where do I put these?”

let's just fling random magic around why tf not

[hatchethanging]

Nothing changes in the room. None of the spirits are that discourteous! And the bosses of the house would never let something like that slide.

"Lockers in the next room," she says, leading her there. "Locks provided."

The lockers themselves are fairly normal, half the height of an average person, two in a stack. The locks are the strange things: heavy brass, raven inlaid on one side, bat on the other. Leslie produces one from big bucket of the things, holding it out by the shackle. "Put the Raven against your heart for thirty seconds, and it'll unlock for you and you alone." Leslie glances at Rute's face. "I think we'll wait to see if you need makeup." The lighting in parts of the Mansion leave the sunniest mortals looking deathly. Just depends on where she's stuck first.

She steps out while her new coworker does this. It's easier to do when someone isn't watching, and everybody has a panicked moment when the Raven's eyes glow red the first time. She's just being polite, leaving her without an audience like that.

Whenever Rute reappears, Leslie beckons her again and tells her the next step: they're going to meet Madame Leota for a quick Séance Circle with the rest of the mortal cast.

[cessation_rites]

Rute takes the lock as gingerly as one can without dropping what is a solid metal thing. “Wouldn’t a normal key be... simpler?” she asks. She turns it over a few times in her hands, running her fingers over the inlays. It doesn’t feel especially strange but she doesn’t like the idea of putting her trust into something she doesn’t really understand. Though, she can’t exactly walk around for the rest of the day with her spare clothes under one arm, and alternatives don’t seem to be lining up for her.

So she obediently gives the lock thing a shot once Leslie leaves. The actual holding-against-the-heart part goes perfectly smoothly- her heartbeat’s a little faster than normal but nothing unusual happens- but once she’s counted out the thirty seconds and removed the lock, she sees the eyes glowing on the raven inlay and immediately drops the lock as if it just burst into flames.

“No-!” She hops back several steps, almost knocking into a nearby table. “Nope, no, don’t like that.”

The lock does nothing.

After a minute Rute goes “Ugh,” and tentatively picks it up again. She stares at it, hard, before finally giving in and opening the shackle, before properly putting her clothes away.

A few moments later an unsettled Rute leaves the locker room and obediently starts following after Leslie again. Though her forehead wrinkles a bit when she hears the next step. “What’s a séance circle?” she asks.

[hatchethanging]

The end of the hall has a set of well-carpeted stairs, only slightly dusty. The railing is particularly secure for mortal staff, and they head up it as Leslie gives Rute an odd look. What's a séance circle? Is that a real question she's asking? Who doesn't know what a séance circle is?

Before she can speak, the Host's disembodied voice answers from the high ceiling instead. "A séance circle, Miss Fernandes, is how most of our mortal staff can come to interact with our immortal staff." Leslie nods in his general direction, not pausing in her leading.

"You see," he continues, "not all are as able to communicate as myself, or Madame Leota. A séance among the living allows for proper communication without the assistance of those foolish letter-boards, and for most haunts to become visible. (Though I myself keep to being indiscernible at all times.) Madame Leota will speak a few words with the rest of our butlers and maids at the beginning of the day to allow it."

[cessation_rites]

“Host!” Rute stifles a shriek of surprise, twisting fruitlessly to look to the Host. Well. She really hopes that’s something she’ll get used to, and fast, or she’s going to suffer a lot of embarrassment.

“Ah,” she says, hurrying after Leslie again. “So more magic.” Although knowing its purpose, she can’t say she’s really opposed to the séance. If there are spirits around her, she’d prefer to know they’re there, thank you very much! “Madame Leota… I think she was mentioned as one of the senior staff members, right? One of the dead ones?” One who handled a lot of communication with ghosts inside and out of the house, if Rute is remembering (and understanding) what she was told correctly.

[hatchethanging]

Both the Host and Leslie are practiced enough to keep from laughing. It's a near thing. Most likely she'll spend her first stretch of time near the front of the Mansion, with its current little ghostly involvement.

"That's correct. In charge of what goes on in these walls as much as myself. No small feat," he says, drifting along behind the pair of them.

The room they head into isn't the official Séance Circle, held along the path the guests travel through. It was once a scullery, though any errant dishes have been cleared away, and the sinks have been dry for decades. An assortment of mortal butlers and maids are seated around various tables. Most look up when the door opens, politely nodding the trio's way.

In a dimly-lit corner furthest from the door, a butler with a five-o'clock shadow is playing a card game with a phantom while a few others look on. Over his shoulder, a maid's shaking her head, saying something about you know he cheats when you can't see him, give it up.

"Please, take a seat," the Ghost Host says, pulling a pair of chairs out. Leslie settles down promptly. "Nearly everyone is here, and then the séance can begin."

[cessation_rites]

It’s probably for the best they don’t laugh, even if the most Rute could and probably would do is glower about it.

She nods absently along with the Host’s explanation. Senior staff, equal rank with the Host apparently, which Rute surmises means Madame Leota is Boss Número Dois, She Who Is Also To Be Obeyed. (Within reason, of course.)

The séance room is a bit of a surprise once they enter, not because of the fact it’s clearly a scullery or kitchen of some sort, but because of how lively it is compared to how most of the Mansion has been. Although “lively” may not be the best choice of words she realizes, as the half-invisible card game catches her attention. She almost misses the chair the Host pulls out for her.

“...Thank you?” Rute says, the hesitation due to surprise more than anything else. But she sits down, if a little gingerly, and smooths out her skirt. She glances around the room, mentally counting the people she can see. (And can’t see, but can observe in other ways.) “How many are we missing?”

[hatchethanging]

"Just one or two. And the Madame herself, of course. She's often the last to arrive, so long as anyone else isn't running late." She's sometimes a little tetchy having to interact face-to-face with mortals so very often.

Even moreso now that the Host's theory that such contact in specific doses is good for them seems to be so true--it can take years for a ghost to get over petty grudges, and Leota isn't above it. It doesn't cause many disruptions, and so the Host doesn't try to fix things between them as easily as he could. In fact, the trouble can be enjoyable.

With excellent timing, as the Host quietly chuckles to himself, those last couple mortals filter in. And down the hall behind them, an eerie green glow begins crawling along the edges of the walls.

"Now," the Host tells Rute sotto voce as her fellow mortals start shifting around, some standing, some merely scooting their chairs, "is the circle of the séance circle. There's no need to hold hands, but do try to keep the shape intact."

Leota arrives, in all her floating disembodied glory. She notices Rute right off, though she does nothing but give her a long look before calling the rest to attention. (Unnecessarily, all eyes are already on her.) "We shall begin."

[cessation_rites]

“She prefers to make a fashionable entrance?” Rute murmurs.

However, any further sardonicism is quickly shut out by the sight of the green glow. Following the Host’s explanation, Rute glances around at the other staff members, making sure she’s positioned in the same rough circle as everyone else.

And then Rute sees Madame Leota come in- and Madame Leota looks at her. It’s her first time actually seeing a corporeal spirit, and Rute isn’t sure if she finds the whole disembodied head thing disturbing or merely strange, but she’s leaning towards “definitely disturbing.” (How does that even happen?)

Rute does her best to look back, meeting Madame Leota’s gaze in a level way. It might be more impressive if her hands weren’t clinging nervously to the sides of her chair. But she has nothing, Rute reminds herself, to be ashamed or guilty about here.

Still, she breathes a bit easier once Madame Leota’s attention is off of her. Of course, she still isn’t sure what this séance thing requires of her, so she’ll be on alert for any cues she needs to follow.

[hatchethanging]

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.