House of Cards RP

It's a lovely fall day. Not that unusual to see people out and about, enjoying that special blend of chill air and warm, mellow sun that only fall can bring. But there's one tiny corner of the green, beneath a spreading oak, that boasts a crowd of a much different kind than one would expect. A small cluster of children are huddled around beneath the tree's overhanging branches, the occasional gasp or cry of surprise escaping them, as they stand in a semicircle. And in the center of that semicircle, one very pale teenage girl with very dark hair, sitting cross-legged and juggling a very odd assortment of objects: two tiny apples, a ball of rubber bands, and a child's shoe.

What? It's good practice, and besides, kids always make the best audience.

The current crisis didn't really bother Juliette all that much. As long as Dutch was safe, she had a warm place to sleep, her sharpies were always within reach and there were handouts to hoard every so often, the world was right as rain for the little Joker.

She hummed as she worked, the brush stroking over the horse's sleek black hide until it gleamed like black satin. Let the others worry about the weirdness happening all around and everywhere; she had better things to do today, such as canter without care through the cobbled streets.

[[Can has tag, plz?]]

Exploring that house with Leigh had proved less than successful. Oh, it had been fun, she had to admit, but it didn't get her anything but a ruined pair of tights, a few uncomfortable splinters, and a rather frustrated sense that if they'd just been able to get that door at the end of the hall open, they'd've found so much more. As it was, there weren't any ghosts. No people, either. Just a bunch of dust, some stuck doors, empty rooms, old furniture and weird smells.

And the box. A music box, just sitting on the floor in the corner of one of the upstairs rooms. The key they'd found in a drawer of the secretary downstairs. It fit, and it worked, playing a wistful melody that seemed to fit the very nature of the house they'd found it in. She'd asked Leigh if she could keep it, intrigued by the sound. Part of her wanted to learn it, maybe to play on the piano sometime when her mother wasn't around to hear. It wasn't like she had anything else to do, right now, things being what they were. School was easy, everyone going light on the work thanks to the recent events, and she'd never had much trouble keeping up with her work, anyway.

Which is why Wednesday evening, she's curled up under her favorite tree out on the Green, winding the key in the bottom of the music box and letting it play that oddly sorrowful song.

They're not moving until closer to the wedding, and most of this, Zoe thinks, will be given away or put into storage. Her shoes are already being separated into keep and discard piles, some of her clothes, too. Books are going into boxes, and she's tagging the furniture to either be moved from her quarters to the new, shared suite...or into storage. The small set of rooms she'd gotten last year as a new Four of Spades will be cleaned out and reallocated to another Spade.

Which is fine, really. The space is well-decorated (it's not like she could really redecorate Victor's rooms, after all), but she's never really lived there, so it's always had the feel of a showroom. She likes her couch better than Victor's, but that's not a battle even worth starting, so his horrible plaid couch will travel up one floor. She's taking her bed, though, no discussion. It'll be moved up there today, since it's not like she's been sleeping in it.

Not yet, though. Right now, Zoe's sitting on the floor surrounded by boxes with the door wide open. Some of them are taped up, some of them are still open, and she's working through the things to pack and things to give away.

She's going to need to go into storage and get another bookcase, it seems. And possibly a filing cabinet.

The last few weeks while the Borders have been down, there's been a slowly mounting feeling of oppression settling in over the Deck. Everyone tense, everyone on edge, everyone telling themselves and each other it'll be fine. She's noticed, of course. Even the kids have been reacting, acting out or up for it. The wild get wilder, and the quiet get quieter. But it's all building to a head, she thinks, coming to some big point. An explosion, a deflation, something. A change.

When the Borders open again, there's change, alright. There's talk of people not always ending up where they set out for, of course, but that's not the really interesting part. Neither are the rocks and trees and bushes popping up where they weren't before. That's just landscape, background. No, what's really interesting is the buildings that seem to be appearing, creating a space for themselves without anyone seeing them. Old, abandoned buildings, with no signs of life.

Which is why Tobi's got a bulging messenger bag slung over her shoulder and a flashlight in her free hand, and she's on a beeline course from Spade Castle headed straight for the house she's got all picked out for exploring. It presses all the right buttons, after all: vaguely Victorian style, peeling paint, cobwebby windows, creaky porch, the vague suggestion of something moving inside that's just beyond visible.

Only one explanation. Clearly it's haunted.

It's not so strange to see October in the Green. It's where she spends most of her time, after all, when she's not in school or the library. Even in the winter, she's out there, lying under a tree with a book or sitting on a bench staring pensively into the distance with an intensity only a teenage girl could manage. No, that's not the strange bit.

What is strange is October hanging upside-down from a tree branch, looking as if it's the most natural thing in the world. And it was, after all. Bats did it all the time. She was just wondering what sort of perspective it gave one, looking at the world upside-down. And if she'd learned anything from the Jokers, it was that a change in perspective could change your life.