On the doorstep of the unknown

Posted on Tue Jul 18th, 2023 @ 9:31 by Duke Anthony Cavendish & Phoebe Hunter & Rebecca McMillen & Jhanvi Dhar

Chapter: All Hallow's Eve
Location: Unknown countryhouse
Timeline: 00:01 November 1st, 1992 (immediately following The Witching Hour)
4329 words - 8.7 OF Standard Post Measure

The sound of the violet teleporter hitting the small white pebbles of an aristocratic driveway leading up to a massive mansion in the countryside was accompanied by three identical landings close to her. She looked at Phoebe, Jhanvi, and Rebecca, and lunged this time to try and hold on to one of them. She didn't want to be stuck di7sappearing and reappearing for however long it was that this had overtaken her. She felt the fabric of Phoebe's Greek style garb in her clutched hand when she plopped out again. The three women left alone on the doorstep of an ominous and unknown mansion.

One moment ago, Rebecca was at a party. A nice party with her new friends and co-workers. A nice party with themed cakes and music. The next moment, she was on the ground. White pebble driveway, no smoother landing in all the world, she'd consider as a sarcastic remark as she hesitantly rose to her feet. Brushing the clinging stones from her legs, she looked over at Phoebe and Jhanvi... "W... where are we?" she asked softly. She knew the obvious: This was a manor of some form. A massive mansion, the kind owned by the fabulously wealthy who probably didn't appreciate uninvited guests.

She wasn't really up to snuff on her aristocracy, so the mansion didn't look immediately familiar to her. Keep it together, Becca, keep it together...

Phoebe felt the same sensation as Claire has in a power shift inside of her but it was impossible to counteract as she fell to her knees trying to ignore the visions and regain her composure enough to answer. It took several deep breaths and blinking to get rid of the feeling to look at Rebecca. "I do not know... the bigger question is how did Claire take us here? and why does it feel like my powers have had a surge."

"I have a feeling, those two thoughts are closer than you think." Rebecca considered aloud. "Good to know it wasn't just me with a weird feeling. And here I was thinking someone spiked the punch." she offered, a moment of levity to break the direness of their situation. Phoebe was a new one to her. Seeing her fall to her knees, though, pushed all that aside. "Are you alright?" she asked, offering a hand over to her. "We all took a bit of a... oh, oh that's a weird feeling." Rebecca mentioned, looking oddly like she was about to hiccup. She held her head slightly, not out of the same issue as Phoebe but more to quell the dizziness. Then, it started.

Rebecca started to get smaller. Normally this was a controlled notion, at a controlled rate. Neither aspect of the moment could be defined as 'in control' at the time. A worried look crossed her features as she turned to her two teleported co-commuters. "This.... this feels off. This..." a pause, and the worried look turned to a mild panic as the rate of her diminishment quickly picked up. "Help." she managed, before the process kicked in quick, and Rebecca all but disappeared.

Having had the privilege of the build up to the event, there was some mercy in that her companions knew roughly where to look when Rebecca disappeared. Amidst all the white stones of the driveway they'd see something that stood out. Something off, something ... green.

Huddled on one of the stones, which to her was now QUITE the landmass, was Rebecca. Still adorned in her fairy costume, she was the lone mote of color among all the white stone. Normally, Rebecca's smallest stature was that of a mouse roughly about five centimeters in height. Truly tiny, to be certain. What stood before the pair now was something so much smaller. Rebecca was the size of an ant. Just a bug. A sizable crumb.

So far, the third member of their impromptu sight-seeing had been withdrawn to the point of being barely visible amongst the shadows. At some point in the confusion, a gasp had been the precursor to several pain-riddled moments of indecision that had been lost amidst the other mutants' own struggles, and part of the reason for Jhanvi's silence was a similar lack of control that demanded the privacy of an agonised retreat as her entire body warped and twisted, unable to settle on a stable form. Shapeshifting was too often romanticised but, for Jhanvi, whose body embraced a very detailed interpretation of the skill, each transformation had never been anything less than torturous.

In that sense, it was bad enough when she anticipated it and could ensure she was alone when she attempted it. Out here, in the panic of having others watch the grotesque merging of the in-between, without any say in when the ability activated, made it so much worse. It was why she hadn't rushed to help Phoebe when the clairvoyant had collapsed under the weight of her premonitions, and was also why he took a moment to step forward to engage with Rebecca's predicament. Lorcan, (it had become easier to just give themselves a different name when this guise became the default for a while), was not classified as the original form of the mutant's body but it was a close second and, for now, the physically strongest of the pair.

He stepped out, dark as midnight and too long in the limbs for the robe Jhanvi had been wearing, and slowly tested his body's cooperation by lowering himself into a crouch. Carefully, without speaking, as if knowing that the sound would likely blow the tiny mutant's eardrums, he stretched out a palm, unfurled.

From her front row seat on a paveway pebble, Rebecca watched the pair go through their own trauma, amplified on a scale beyond belief. Phoebe was kneeling, struck immobile, struck indecisive. Jhanvi, who she knew better but only by the slightest margin, had begun to bend and twist in on themselves. It was almost painful to watch, no doubt half as painful as it was to endure though. In the end, a new form stood before her, looming over the horizon. Judging from the ordeal, this seemed to be a form that was comfortable to hold. At least it stopped folding in on itself, for the moment.

When the platform of a hand was offered, Rebecca had to will herself to move. Demand action of her terrified form. Being held wasn't something new. Being held by someone two kilometers tall, however, was not on her list of accomplishments. Slowly, steadily, the insignificant little green dot moved from her white stone to the offered palm. A moment to trek along the outskirts until Rebecca was in the palm of Lorcan's hand. Weightless, and terrified.

There was a very obvious and meticulous attempt by the stoic, placid chameleon to keep his hand steady and, more importantly, rested at ground level. Despite his own discomfort, the inherent protectiveness of the forethought was perhaps the best introduction to Lorcan's disposition, even if the circumstances surrounding his emergence were less than ideal. Very carefully, he moved until he was sitting cross-legged and, precious bounty still nestled against the palm of his hand, he allowed the additional security of an underlying hammock of fabric as he settled the hand into his robed lap and then carefully cupped his other over the top to form a cocoon. It likely plunged the little fairy into darkness but his intent was more to protect her ears as he spoke, even then only in a low tone.

"Do you know where we are?" This question was posed to Phoebe.

Phoebe was struggling to make sense of the sensations going through her let alone everything else. Visions of myriad futures flooded through her brain—utopias, dystopias, and uncharted realms of possibility. From saving lives to sparking revolutions, she marvelled at the kaleidoscope of potential paths for a second before she made her nails bite into her arm giving her a sharp quick pain to bring her back. She was not 14 and trying to not drown in the potential futures. She glanced to the left seeing the scene, she had no idea that Rebecca could shrink and she had no idea who the person who was asking her questions was before she realised this was a form of Jhanvi. "I do not know," Phoebe admitted slowly standing up on shaking legs. "But as it was Claire who transported us... It will be connected to her."

Shrinking seemed only half of the puzzle. After all, what good was being able to become tiny if you couldn't return to your previous size? A question that was starting to be answered in Lorcan's grip as the previously nigh-weightless precious cargo within his covered hand started to get heavy again. What took but a moment to perform took slightly longer to undo, but it left the situation all the same. In Lorcan's lap there was now a woman. Hundred and seventy centimeters, give or take, wearing a Halloween-quality costume of the skimpy one piece that Disney's spokesfairy wore.

The green went very well with the creeping red blush shooting up Rebecca's cheeks. "....... hi." she managed, before becoming very aware of where who's whats were where. "W.... when we tell the others this, we ..... we can leave this part out." the mousey blonde stammered, before looking first for a place to put her hands in order to get up, and then looking for a battleplan to stand without further compromising her dwindling integrity. It took a bit, but she managed to at least get to something of a seated posture beside the pair.

"Ok, so, awkward introductions. My name's Rebecca. I shrink and talk to rats." that blush was practically burned in at this point. "And, I agree. If I heard you right. About this place being somehow connected to Claire because she teleported us here." a pause, "Maybe a last ditch attempt at controlling an out of control power?"

Phoebe looked at Rebecca confused. They were well acquainted from being teachers in a small school but she did not speak up on it. She was saving her voice for when it was needed and maybe the woman was speaking to Lorcan but she assumed that each form of Jhanvi had the same knowledge as the others.

As it happened, Lorcan was quite accustomed to this. Not, perhaps, the sudden imposition of another person draped across his lap, but certainly the disorientation and lack of familiarisation that became people's first interpretation of how to deal with him. Being treated like an entirely separate entity had its perks, and was perhaps closer to the reality of it than not, but it was still the case that introductions were unnecessary. He knew who they were. He just hadn't anticipated ever trying to negotiate one of them out of his lap.

He assisted as best he could, however, without comment to add to the woman's mounting embarrassment. Once Rebecca was firmly seated beside him, Lorcan took a moment to regard her, an uncomfortable scrutiny given the circumstances but aimed mostly at determining whether she was going to see-saw back and forth in size. Assured that, for the time being, the three of them had mustered a degree of stability, he unwound long legs and rose gracefully. From there, he extended a hand to assist Rebecca in standing.

"If this is connected to the headmistress, our best recourse may simply be to knock and ask for help." It actually wasn't the man's preferred option but covert tactics weren't going to be very successful with two others in tow. "At the very least, it would be helpful to know where we are in relation to Avalon if we wish to return."

The big front door to the mention slowly opened and inside the frame stood an older woman, hunched over slightly, hugging a robe around herself and taking in the people that suddenly appeared on her driveway and set off all of the alarms. "Good evening, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" The woman with an immaculate RP accent folded her hands in front of her and waited for the people in her driveway to come closer.

Rebecca perked at the sound of the new voice. It was foolish to think a mansion such as this would be uninhabited, or that their approach to the situation was anything approaching 'stealthy'. She rose to her feet with Lorcan's assistance and brushed herself off of the driveway stones that, just previously, held a whole different perspective for her. "Oh, hello." the mousey blonde in too-short of a halloween costume spoke first, trying to hide her thin tail from view by sliding it against the back of her leg. "We're really sorry for the sudden intrusion, rather just popped in really. My name's Rebecca, ma'am, and if it isn't too much trouble could you maybe help us out?" a pause.

"Could you maybe let us know where we are, so we can orient ourselves and get back home?"

Phoebe raised an eyebrow at Rebecca stepping forward and glanced to Lorcan as Phoebe stood there. “Claire sent us.” The team leader suddenly blurted out already seeing where the conversation was seeing with Rebecca speaking. The woman needed to know they meant no harm.

"Is everything alright, Miss Hunter?" The woman walked down the large stone slabs in the direction of Phoebe, looking concerned at the woman.

“You know me?” Phoebe asked shivering a little in the dark night. “I apologise you have me at a complete disadvantage I am afraid.” The red head smiled weakly. Normally she would have a lot more charisma but she could either have some semblance of herself or be lost to visions.

The woman smiled at that assessment, "indeed I do." She offered a hand to help guide the redhead pre-cog towards the house. "I take it this has something to do with the disturbance that was detected in the Scottish highlands." Slowly the group was guided towards the entrance of the house. "I'll boil the kettle."

Phoebe took the offered hand still confused but the whole vibe of the place was safe. She nodded to the pair to follow. “I guess that would be what you could call it.” Phoebe was at a disadvantage feeling weak but disturbance was a good way to describe what had happened to them and further afield it seemed by the location used. “Tea would be lovely. I have a lot of questions and I suspect my friends have the same.”

At that, Rebecca gave a nod. Indeed she had both: A question or three, and a love of tea. Though her love of tea was slightly eclipsed at the moment. Several things were going through her head. Who was this person that seemed so calm at having a trio of outsiders on her lawn? What happened that brought them all here? The lingering memory of her powers activating just a minute or two ago, turning the world into a monstrously enormous place and leaving her in the world of ants and bugs for a bit too long for her liking. Fear. Hesitation. She was a complicated pile of emotions at this moment.

Though, this woman seemed to not be a threat. She wasn't forthcoming with any information, but at the same time if three strangers popped up on your front porch you'd be careful too. Except she seemed to know at least one of them. Called Miss Hunter by name. Even Rebecca didn't know her name.

So the obvious choice was still the one. She nodded and followed, turning to make sure the final part of the triad was included and following suit.

The most wary, it seemed, of the group lingered at the threshold to the door, intent on surveying the interior of the main foyer before committing to enter it. Lorcan, expression impassively unreadable, glanced once more over his shoulder before following eventually, though he positioned himself just behind Rebecca as a security guard might attempt when escorting a client. Despite best efforts, he moved somewhat awkwardly, the ornate sari that had been the best compromise for a last-minute costume only covering him as far as his shins and he was now, for obvious reasons, barefoot.

"This is most unusual, you know, Miss Cavendish and myself have an understanding that I am not to be implicated." The woman moved through the big halls of her house with practised ease, it was clear that she'd lived here for a long time by the fact that without barely a light on she easily found her path without bumping into anything. She opened the doors to a large sitting room, with rather old looking chesterfield furniture. It looked very similar to the set that Claire had set up in her office. The walls were decorated with all sorts of oddities, swords crossed behind a shield with a family crest above the fireplace, a tapestry hanging from the wall next to the door they entered, a moose head mounted in the far corner, next to a massive bookcase filled to the brim with leather-bound books. "Please take a seat. Make yourselves comfortable."

Phoebe took the offered seat but did not relax. She looked like a poised spring ready to attack or defend. Neither of the pair with her with knights so it was up to her despite the vibes that they were safe from harm to defend them. She looked around and sighed, it felt all felt familiar like she had seen it before but she just could not place the setting at all. “I am sure Claire would not have done this on purpose, none of us was exactly at our best right at that moment,” Phoebe said slowly. She knew she had been supercharged and was struggling even then to rein it in.

Rebecca spared a glance back to Lorcan and gave a small nod. She appreciated the comfort and the security. It helped that there was someone else who at least appeared to be a little confused. Once they crossed the proverbial threshold, Rebecca couldn't help but glance around at the curios and decorations around her. "Whoa..." she whispered to herself, unable to keep her wonder to herself. At the offer of a seat and comfort, Rebecca took the offer, relaxing into a soft chair. "Thank you," she remembered her manners. She relaxed, but didn't allow herself to completely relax. Implicated? Understanding? The plot was getting thicker.

One thing was now crystal clear. Rebecca was no longer AS curious as to this person's name. No name, no implication. She watched the telly...

Lorcan, on the other hand, chose to remain standing, finding no better place for it than at a sentry position behind Rebecca's chair. Silently, he took in the details of their location, both hands rested on the back of the armchair so that his thumb could trace the worn lines within the leather.

It didn't take long for the woman to come back into the room and in her hands she had a tray with cups and a kettle as well as a tray of biscuits, some milk and sugar. She put the tray on the table and poured each and every one of them a cup. She poured some milk and sugar into her own cup and delicately stirred the liquid without making much of a sound. Sitting down in a chair for herself she looked over the gathered group, whom aside from Hunter she knew nothing about. "Alright then, tell me exactly what happened."

Phoebe fixed her own tea and sat back once the woman had started to drink to drink her tea Phoebe took a sip of her own. "We were having a Halloween party and then suddenly Claire was popping in and out and everyone was supercharged. Our abilities were dialled up and then some but it does seem to be temporary as I can feel it going now."

Rebecca mustered a quiet "Thank you." as the tea arrived, and poured herself a cup while claiming a biscuit for herself. At Pheobe's explanation Rebecca gave a pair of nods in agreement: First at the notion of the party and Claire popping in and out of existence, and the second nod at the notion of her talents being jacked up to eleven. That brought back the terrifying memory of the world at the scale of an ant. A fear that Rebecca hid behind a slightly shaky tea cup.

"Unprompted activation of our mutations," Lorcan rephrased, his tone measured and deliberate in its control. "Followed by immediate acceleration in aptitude. I do not believe it is normally within the headmistress' capabilities to transport multiple targets over great distance, though we have no way of knowing where we are in relation to the castle."

"It is not," Phoebe said quietly. "But it seems to be fading. I am not quite as assaulted by my own abilities now." Phoebe said pulling the strap of her dress a little more up better as she finally realised she was sitting there in the greek / Roman goddess outfit.

Rebecca fared no better in her Tinkerbell outfit. Whoever designed this dress had no appreciation for modesty, or any solid grasp on the female form. The mousey blonde relegated herself to 'Be Quiet, Look Pretty, Drink Tea' at the moment, far far out of her element and far out of her knowledge base. No idea where she was, who this person was, and with no real exit strategy in sight. At least, not one that included them. No house was mouse proof, and if it came to that then at least she had a way out. So to that, she sat quiet, looked pretty, and drank tea.

With a solemn nod the older women took in that information and sipped her tea, pinky out like a proper lady. "So Miss Cavendish did drop you here, but perhaps not intentionally." It clarified some parts at least, especially the bit about them agreeing that it was better if nobody knew of her involvement with the institute. "I think a priority would be for us to try and figure out what exactly has transpired to put us in this position and then come up with a reasonable approach to resolving the matter. You are currently in the north-west of England, near the border with Wales. So not exactly within Miss Cavendish' regular teleportation range. Perhaps she'd visit more if it were."

Phoebe nodded standing up as if she had a new purpose. “Do you have a phone? I would like to make a few calls. See if I can work out a few…” Phoebe stopped speaking and just froze as a vision hit more powerful than she had experienced in over a decade. Her eyes turned white before rolling up in her head as she pitched forward and narrowly missed the coffee table as she hit the floor.

Rebecca gasped, setting her tea down a little harder than intended to rush to Phoebe's side. Kneeling next to the other woman, Rebecca held her gently, "Shhh, it's alright. I'll handle the phone. Are you alright?" she asked, the last few minutes happening very quickly. She took one of the throw pillows off the chair she was seated at and placed it under Phoebe's head. She wasn't really quite sure what to do in the event of a 'gentle head injury' but she was incredibly thankful that Phoebe missed the coffee table on the way down.

A rustle of movement from behind Rebecca's chair brought Soren to a kneel on the other side of the stricken pre-cog. His concern was kept folded behind his ill-fitted robe, however, confined to the scrutiny of darting eyes as he left the actual fussing to the other mutant. "Allow her a moment to process." The gravitas of understanding may have been simply educated guesswork; the secretary did, after all, have access to all staff records.

The woman that had invited them into her home seemed to let is all unfold in front of her without too much fuss. She was old, so any spry jumping to action had to have been done decades prior. More than that she seemed simply unphased, and continued to sip her tea. Keep calm and carry on had been the motto of her generation of Brits and she certainly didn't seem the type to go against Churchill.

Phoebe stayed quiet for a long moment before she blinked a couple of times and looked up at the pair. There was so much to process and if she was at home she would eveything but there and then she had nothing other than a green goddess dress and a killer headache. “I am fine. I… can you get me some paper and a pen please.” She requested as she used the sofa to pull herself up to sit up.

Rebecca gave a nod once Phoebe confirmed she was alright, and stood up to address their involuntary hostess. "She needs some paper and a pen, please. Where could I go about finding some?" she paused, "We just came from a party, no pockets."

Slowly and meticulously the woman stood up from her chair and moved over to a nearby cupboard. She pulled out a note bloc and a pen to go with it moving over towards Phoebe and handing off the supplies. The small note bloc was watermarked with a family crest, the latin motto underneath was barely readable 'Cavendo tutus'. "There you go, my child."

When the requested pen and paper came back Phoebe set to work sketching what she had seen in her vision. It was twisted events and things that were not making sense or in any particular order. "We need to get back to the mansion somehow." She said showing her first images of shadowy figures approaching the familiar silhouette of the castle.