Revision as of 23:55, 31 January 2020

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
It's cold, cold, cold. It's somewhere in December and it's coooold. The grounds of the House are wintry, an untrodden blanket of snow leading up through the bare, ice-covered trees and sunlight filtering through the skinny naked spindly branches. It's dazzlingly bright and quite beautiful, and the house looks lonely, its sagging porch and loose shutters and peeling paint and blank dark windows all looking out at the snow forlornly.

Jadeite has posed:
It's cold, cold, cold, and Jadeite has never given the weather so little of his attention. The fresh fallen snow and the chill breeze are the hallmarks of his favorite season, but he disregards them both to step towards the sagging porch, the dark windows.

The house is lonely and empty, and he feels a pang of guilt, knowing he isn't here to fix any of that. He places a foot on the first step, and brushes a hand over the peeling paint of the porch wall.

"Hello house. I hope you don't mind a bit of company," he says softly, before casting a glance over his shoulder. "You haven't frozen over yet, have you?"

Kyouko Sakura has posed:
Kyouko perches in the branch of one of the leafless trees. She is in the Winter version of her Shitennou uniform, which is white with red instead of red with white, and features one of those Russian-esque cylindrical white fur hats, a white fur lining on the cape, and a similar fur lining around the neck of the jacket. Also there's white thermal tights and bigger boots.

"I'll wait here and keep an eye out." She says, completely unnecessarily since the odds of anything threatening, magical or otherwise, finding this place are almost nonexistant. But when has a threat being improbable to the point of nonexistence ever stopped Kyouko from being paranoid about it?

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The porch wall is cold when Jadeite's hand starts to brush it, but immediately warms; a cloud overhead shifts, and the shadows of the spindly branches shift accordingly, clearing away from the porch area. The house doesn't seem to have appreciably changed, visibly, but there's definitely a sense of attention in the air.

Nephrite has posed:
Neph would like to think he's had enough haunted houses for one lifetime. This particular house, despite its friendly origins and close connection to the most immediate of the Palaces, is one that he's always passed through as quickly as possible, with minimal glancing through open doorways. Somehow, the endless dark staircase below is less intimidating than the uninhabited rooms, even when they are pleasantly lit up by a bright snowy day. The particular ways in which this house exists are too close to his nightmares for comfort.

He lingers at the back of the group, delaying the inevitable for as many seconds as possible by pretending to be engrossed in something on his phone. "Haven't become a snowman yet," he grumbles at Jadeite. He glances up at perched Kyouko. "Cheater," he mutters. Absolutely not wishing he had thought of that idea first.

He tries very hard not to notice the shift that takes place when Jadeite approaches.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The house actually seems to perk up when not one but three of them-- okay okay two, Kyouko's a cheater-- seem to be coming in, and absolutely not for the purpose of beelining for the staircase. I'm here! I exist!

The door opens easily, as it always does, and there's one giant plus side to going in that Kyouko's missing out on: it's blessedly warm in there, and bright, and quiet, and still. Since they've started paying it any attention at all, these past years, it doesn't look abandoned inside. Just empty and bright and ready. The hardwood floors aren't polished, but they're not dirty; the paint on the walls and the dark wainscotting and crown moulding are lovely--

--and dust motes dance in the winter sunlight coming through the clean windows.

Jadeite has posed:
The wall warms and the clouds shift and the sunlight makes the whole thing quite pretty, and Kyouko really will miss out. This might not be as eerie as he'd feared.

"Try not to turn into a popsicle," he offers Kyouko, a bit of truly sage advice. And then he's through the door, which is open, and into the halls - and they are clean, and bright, and maybe the house doesn't gleam, but that's alright, a lived in hole doesn't do that. Maybe this wasn't such a weird idea after all.

"You know... this place looks pretty good, in the day time with no emergencies in the way," he tells Neph, because it's true, but also maybe if the house is pretty, it won't have so much of a haunting aura. Less Haunting of Hill House, more Ponyo's House vibes.

"If you were a pair of adults looking after a small child, where would you hide the baby pictures? It can't be in my palace, and it's not the kitchen or the bathroom, I've been there."

Nephrite has posed:
"It was daytime when my house tried to eat my girlfriend," Neil offers unhelpfully as he follows Jadeite across the threshold. He pointedly leaves the front door open behind him. "But this one's probably not prone to fits of jealousy."

Saburo's musing at least gives him a clear task to focus on. There is a reason he came along, and it's not only because Saburo's puppy eyes are impossible to resist. "Kitchen and bathroom don't seem likely anyway. You wouldn't want the photos to get wet or anything, right? I'd guess maybe up high where little hands can't reach? Aunt Sandra kept some on a shelf at the top of her closet."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The front door swings most of the way shut behind him with something of an air of petulant exasperation. Let the cold air in, why don't you. Most of the way shut. It's still open a crack, like a wardrobe door behind one when one is going through a dense and snowy pine forest ahead.

Since all the doors are open on at least the first floor, and show nothing but empty rooms, odds are probably good that Oba-san's closet is upstairs. The thing is, at least Mamoru and Luna and Kazuo have been upstairs on the second floor-- but the place is three storeys tall. And sure all the doors are open but has anyone actually gone around mapping them?

Probably not. Most people who come in this house beeline for the basement stairs, because after all, there's nothing here, right?

But the water in the bathroom was definitely running last time Jadeite was here. There was hot water last time Jadeite was here. And there are so very many rooms.

Still, the house is silent. It's not quiet like the grave, though: it's quiet like it remembers small feet running through its halls, like it remembers laughter, like it remembers cheery voices going 'I'm gonna get you!' and childish shrieks of delight. It's quiet like it remembers love and is waiting for more--

--and it's quiet like the bright yard in front of Jadeite's palace, like the shrine cat lazing in a warm patch of golden sunlight.

The stairs going up are right there, to the side of the hall leading to the kitchen.

Jadeite has posed:
Saburo won't acknowledge the door swinging partially shut, not when Neil is already freaked out and concerned. It's probably the wind, or it's the house keeping our the wind, and either way it's fine, because the house means them no harm. The house means them no harm at all.

"I know there are rooms on the second and third floors, but I've never really spent much time up there...we could see if there are any cabinets? I... I remember my parents used to store things at the top of cabinets."

And there are the stairs, right there, just beckoning them up. There's even a bit of sunlight falling from the stairs above.

Nephrite has posed:
Neil is too busy looking at what's ahead to notice the door moving behind him, at least. Too busy leaning awkwardly to see around corners without actually having to step through doorways. "Upstairs," he sighs. "Of course we'd have to go upstairs."

He glares accusingly at said stairway. "Cabinets. Right. Just... no splitting up, especially not between floors."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The stairway does not shrink, but the sunlight coming from upstairs dims a little before rallying and shining brighter, as if in defiance.

The railing's a nice thing, open at one side all the way up, made of polished wood and making a little curl at the end. Looks like a great bannister to slide down, actually. Under fingers gripping it, however, there's something carved on the underside partway up.

The stairs also squeak. Not great for sneaking down them in the middle of the night to raid the cookie jar.

When they make it to the top of the stairs, there's a hallway ahead, another staircase, and light coming from every open door. There's a window on the wall behind them, and-- were either of them up here before? If not, they wouldn't actually know that all the walls were white before. Now there are other colors in the rooms; each of the rooms has cabinets and little inset-to-the-wall cubby doors in strange places. There's not one but TWO bathrooms-- and three linen closets-- on this floor.

Jadeite has posed:
"No splitting up! We search all the rooms, one by one, and we don't together. Maybe we don't search them all in a row though, that's too neat for my brain, probably?"

He's being casual and flippant because the tension is obvious and maybe it can be soothed a little... Or at least prodded over.

"I don't think the house means us any harm, but I'll stay in grabbing distance, just in case."

And so they climb the stairs, and have so many options to choose from. The rooms are many and all are open. And the rooms have color, not garish and glaring, but to give warmth and character and love to a house left lacking all of the above.

"Do you want to try the green room first?" He asks, once they stand in the hall. He peeks out the window.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Funny, too, how a lot of the room colors are... familiar.

Nephrite has posed:
You'd think that fear of every wall and carpet would extend to fear of touching -- but Neil needs that connection. That reminder that the things he's seeing are solid and immobile, that they're all still planted on the ground and gravity isn't going anywhere for a while. He may not have Mamoru's gift with touch, but he still runs his hand along the walls as he moves down the hall, and closes it around the bannister when he reaches the stairs.

The grooves under his fingers give him pause. There, etched in decades-old ballpoint pen, is a name. It's just a little thing, but it is comforting to run his fingers over the bold, careful lines of "ENDYMION." This innocent little reminder of who the house belonged to.

Jadeite is already reaching the top of the stairs, in direct contradiction of Neil's "no splitting up" rule, so he leaves the name behind and races up after him. "Green sounds pleasant. Let's go with that."

Endymion has posed:
The green room is airy and bright, but somehow gives a feeling of secrecy and promises. The crown moulding and other trim in here is painted glossy white, instead of the dark varnished wood downstairs, and the walls are such a pretty pale green. The carpet, because indeed there is a thick soft springy carpet in here, is a darker more emeraldy green, and on close inspection, the trim around the door and windows is carved into a subtle, shallow pattern of foliage.

The closet is empty, there is no furniture, and the wall cubbies are empty. There are, however, impressions in the carpet where there had been a dresser, a vanity, a desk, and a bed--

--all child-sized.

Jadeite has posed:
Saburo would argue that this is not splitting up, but he'd probably lose and have to admit that he was distracted. And it's fair. He was. Outside of the window you can see the backyard, and he can just imagine Mamoru playing and running out there, not the serious boy in the yearbooks but a happy little kid.

That's what they're here to find, house. Evidence of that happy little kid.

The green room doesn't have that evidence. It's homey, lovely really, but it's empty - even if the impressions in the carpet make his heart clench a little.

He waits by the door this time, remembering not to split up. "Do you think this was his room?"

Nephrite has posed:
Neil pauses by Saburo's shoulder, taking in the little room. "I guess it must have been. Unless there were any other kids? There weren't, right?" He runs his hand over the foliage-patterned trim. "Someone put a lot of care into it, though."

After a moment's thought, he pulls out his phone and snaps a photo of the wall. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to see if they could get that shade of green to use somewhere in the ECFH.

"So. Probably not here. Parents must have slept close by, right? Maybe we can find their room."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The next room over is pretty clearly not the parents' room. It's roughly the same size as the green, actually, and... also has indentations in the carpet where there had been a childsized bed, a dresser, a desk, and a table in the middle instead of a vanity. On the inside of the closet door there's an unused corkboard, and the clothing rack only goes halfway across -- one side of the closet is devoted to shelves.

The walls of this room are painted a pale and beautiful ice-blue, the exact shade of the eyes of the blond guy who's behaving now and waiting for Neil wherever Neil goes. The carpet is patterned busily in a design that isn't actually dizzymaking, somehow, but strangely calming in its symmetry and fitting-together-ness, and it's all shades of pale or dusty blue and cream and clay grey.

Jadeite has posed:
Whenever they make their way to the blue room, Saburo pauses. And he turns in a slow circle, so he can get a better look at everything, but especially the busily patterned carpet, that seems to capture frenetic energy without actually being frenetic.

"So. How much do you want to bet one of these rooms is going to be pink?"

Because he has a theory. A Game Theory.

Nephrite has posed:
Okay, so not just one kid. "I guess this house is pretty big," Neil says, watching Saburo make his rounds. He certainly knows what it's like to be among many children, coming from a mix of cousins all under one roof, but now he's questioning whether the pretty green room was Mamoru's at all. It occurs to Neil that he's a bit vague on what this time of Mamoru's life was like, but he's fairly confident that Mamoru would have mentioned secret siblings by now.

Neil shrugs. "Any reason for pink in particular?"

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Well. There's also a door that Jadeite's close to, and it's not pink. It's also across from another hall -- it's got two doors to its left, two to its right, and a hall with another open door at the end of it. That door's partly open.

This door is shut.

It wasn't shut a minute ago when they glanced down the hall, and the color spilling into the hall had been sunshine reflecting off cheery pale yellow.

But it's shut now, and they didn't hear it at all.

It's also the first door that's not pristine white; it's got a smudge on it near the doorknob, a partial impression of a couple of small fingers.

Jadeite has posed:
"Well, Kunzite's a pink stone, isn't it?" But he exits the room to look down the halls, and Neph is right. It's a big house. There are rooms and rooms, and maybe he shouldn't have been so worried about keeping it a surprise, when there's so much house to look through. There are all these open doors. "I mean, it could be a coincidence, but blue and green rooms, for two kids, in Endymion's house..."

Endymion's house, because that's what Mamoru used to be called, just like in the past. He could be wrong. It's just an idea.

But if Mamoru's caretakers had an idea of who he was, surely they had an idea who might come as a package deal with him.

"Let's try this one, because I'm pretty sure all these doors were open."

And he puts his hand on he knob, tests to see if it will open.

Nephrite has posed:
Neph slowly detaches from his intense scrutiny of dark corners to catch up on the point Saburo is making. "I... don't know if I find it comforting that these people knew enough about us to have identifiable rooms ready to go for each of us when we were like, six."

He squints at the busy carpet as Saburo leads the way back into the hall. "Besides, I wouldn't have really picked this room for Zoi. The last one seems more like--" he freezes at the sight of the closed door.

"Nope. No. Don't like that." He throws up his hands. "Children's rooms devoid of children are already creepy, house! Don't you dare go all Haunted Hill on us now!"

Saburo, evidently undeterred by the threat of empty rooms and closed doors, is moving to open it anyway. "We're just -- going in there? Right, fine, disobey the creepy moving house. I'll be over here, ready to tackle you out of the way when some demon ghost child flies out and tries to eat your face off."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"Endymion's house" is trying not to get huffy at Neil's reactions, but if it were a bird its feathers would be ruffled. Jadeite is being nice, though, and everything he touches sends reassuring vibes his way, more or less.

The door opens easily, swinging wide into a room with cheery yellow walls and a dark blue carpet. The accents and trim in this room are painted the same blue as the carpet, and--

--there's a windowseat with a bookshelf under it--

--and art on the walls, some of it childish watercolor and some of it illustrations from storybooks, some of it pictures of outer space--

--there's a child's bed and it's hastily made, and a nightstand next to it with interesting rocks and acorns and an alarm clock with blinking green wrongtime, and a lamp with a multicolored translucent shade, and red sneakers that probably have flashing lights in the soles kicked under the bed, and there are toys, and there's a desk with a chair and schoolbooks that are, you know, really kind of too advanced for a five year old, and there are books on the shelves and there are clothes in the dresser and there are toys and art supplies and a mobile of the planets and a carefully labeled rock collection on top of the dresser next to a bunch of matchbox cars lined up precisely, and the comforter on the bed is swirling outer space fantasy kidbed wonderful, and there's a little notebook on the desk too, and--

--no demon ghost child anywhere. This room belongs to their prince before everything was taken away from him.

Jadeite has posed:
"I think it's nice. I mean, Mamoru liked these people and this house loves him, so they probably loved him too. And anyone who loved Mamoru is like, legally obligated to love us, so..."

That's just how it works. Don't fact check it, just trust him, that this is how it works. He's sure about it, okay? And the house is nice, and he can tell even without any psychic powers. "Plus, I kinda think this one is mine. That carpet is like the rug I never knew I always wanted, and if it weren't rude I would be trying to take it home."

He really, really would like to keep looking at it but he's after photos, not home decor so he's still after that previously open door, not even waiting a second to hear Neph's fears out.

"The house isn't going to eat us. It wants us here, otherwise we wouldn't have even made it up the stairs. Can't you feel it?"

And the proof is the room that lies behind that door, with it's treasure trove of child's memories, and belongings and all the things any child would want. There's a part of him, a part of him that he's dutifully ignored for a year, that remhees being young and sad and trying to always be good enough, that thinks that there's nothing creepy at all about the kind of people who would have made up rooms for them.

"Do you think the house will let us find this room again?" He asks, pulling out his phone. "Mamoru is going to need more than just pictures of this place."

Nephrite has posed:
Saburo is sunshine and friendship, almost as much like the yellow room as he is the blue one. Of course he and the house get along.

Neil would not be so averse to this if he did not object to the very idea of a house that one has to get along with.

Still, even he is forced to admit that there is no immediately visible threat to tackle Saburo out of the way of. The very lived in feel of the room, the distinctness of it, the clear signs of an actual child having been here and not some sort of phantom, makes this the least scary vision to be waiting for them. The fact that they can tell, without a doubt, that this belonged to a smaller version of the Mamoru they know and love certainly helps.

He stands back in the hall and lets Saburo make his appraisal. "Well. It's his, isn't it? He could probably just ask." This statement does not stop him from casting furtive glances at the other doors in the hall to ensure they haven't moved.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Unfortunately, no matter how much charge was in Jadeite's phone when he came in, it's empty now, the battery indicator flashing unhappily on the screen when he tries to turn it on.

None of the other doors have moved, except the one at the end of the hall across from Mamoru's room? The one that's in hearing distance of the kids' rooms, but far enough away that there's some privacy? As Neil is frantically looking, the door starts closing quietly.

While he's watching.

Jadeite has posed:
Jadeite frowns at the phone, but well, it's either the house or it's his own forgetfulness, and either way there's no reason to bring it up and have Neph jumping from dead phone to dead them. He just tucks it back into his pocket and says, "If it was going to be that easy for him to find it, he would have told us about this ages ago. I mean, it's his room, but it's not like the house is just a house."

Maybe there's a reason he can't take any pictures. Maybe it's not time? Hm. Well, maybe he needs to drag Mamoru back to the house then, make him and it kiss and make up. He doesn't think Mamoru will object too harshly.

He walks to the bookshelf, stepping deeper into the room, completely missing the door. "I'm going to see if I see any pictures besides the drawings, okay? I'm not splitting up."

Nephrite has posed:
Door closing. Jadeite walking away. There is only one thing to do.

Neil shrieks and dives into the room after Jadeite.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Neil's shriek echoes up and down the empty halls, which are perfectly innocent and seem to radiate it.

The bookshelf has a lot of well-loved and cherished kids' books, some popular in the early naughts, some popular in the seventies. Some are in Japanese, some in English, some in both. There are also some books geared more toward ten or eleven year olds, instead of babies and small children. None of these seem likely to have photos stashed in them.

There's a book just poking out from under the cushion on the windowseat, though, dog-eared.

Jadeite has posed:
The sound is enough for Saburo to shriek too, stumbling forward in surprise. He just barely catches himself on the windowseat by smashing into the wall, hands first.

Ow. Ow. Ow.

"What was that about?" He demands, scowling (pouting) at Neil.

Nephrite has posed:
Neil stands panting in the middle of the perfectly innocent room, looking exactly as much like a wild-haired madman as anybody who starts screaming about a closing door might.

"Doors," he huffs.

Nothing is actually leaping out to murder them, though, so he just looks around grumpily. "Let's just... hurry and get this over with. If this room's been so well-hidden before, it must be letting us in for a reason, right?" He starts digging haphazardly through the books, pointedly pretending the freakout he just displayed absolutely did not happen.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
That's when a door upstairs slams shut. Pointedly.

Jadeite has posed:
Maybe he should have come by himself. Sure, that would have been scary, but obviously Neil is way more terrified of haunted houses (reasonably) than Saburo thought, and well.

The door upstairs slamming makes him jump, because it's loud and unexpected, but also because it's getting pretty obvious the house is starting to get irritated with them now. (With one of them.)

"Okay," he says, both the Neil, and the house, "I can tell that this was half a bad idea, which means it was still half a good idea. House, can you maybe - close the closet, if going upstairs will help us find Mamoru's baby pictures? It's not that we don't appreciate you, but a house tried to make Neil into a Scooby Snack once, and ever since he hasn't done well in big, brilliant houses."

A little flattery never hurt anyone, right?

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The closet door promptly closes with a soft click.

Nephrite has posed:
Neil does not duck under the bed. That would imply that he could fit under the bed. He merely dives for what looks like the safest corner and pretends that is how you find books.

“Yes, very brilliant,” he grouses. “Nice house. I see you have doors and you like to use them.”

Jadeite has posed:
"Thank you for helping us," Saburo says, because somebody has to be polite around here. "We'll head upstairs. And I'll make sure Mamoru comes back."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The next time Saburo touches the wall, or the door or doorframe, or anything-- the railing on the stairs up to the third floor-- he gets a feeling of happiness and gratitude. It's not like Mamoru never goes there-- he always takes the land route to the palaces if he can help it, because he still hates teleporting with all his heart-- but he doesn't explore, he doesn't spend time just being there.

It misses him so badly, and that comes through in the touch.

The stairs to the third floor are the same kind of comfortable old-house creaky that the first stairs were, and there's a door at the top of them that stands open, and beyond it, a few more doors. Not nearly as many on this floor. The hall is shorter than the length of the house, and the open door at the end of it leads into what's clearly actual attic space, unfinished. The other doors open into classrooms, one of which is obviously a multipurpose science lab. They're empty, more or less-- just desks and a chalkboard and shelves of textbooks, and then the lab tables and a whiteboard and a periodic table, et cetera. Third floor: school and storage.

Nephrite has posed:
Neil shuffles behind Jadeite and tries his very best to refrain from any further shrieking.

He makes no such promises on whimpering or muttering about doors, however.

Jadeite has posed:
Saburo is very much of 'I'll take what I can get' mindset. So long as there is no shrieking fit to call down the heavens, he will make no complaints, and even more politely, no teasing comments. It isn't Neil's fault he was hasty in assembling his exploration party and also didn't try to swap out Kyouko for Neil when he had he chance.

"Okay, so this floor is the school, and the attic, and even though I'm sure that the very last place you want to go is the attic, I'm pretty sure we'll have better luck there than in checking every single one of these classrooms to avoid going into what would usually be the creepiest room in any normal house."

He's saying all of this because maybe if he verbalizes every step of the plan, both Neil and the House will be chill.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The House is chill. The House is totally chill. Saburo's hand, Neil's hand, any hand that touches that railing on the way up the stairs is given the sense from the House that it's as lazily magnanimous right now as Mamoru after a whole lot of, I don't know, lamb korma and chocolate mousse cake -- and that it won't hurt them, wouldn't hurt them. It tries to reassure.

Jadeite is also gently given the impression that Neil might appreciate him opening an attic window, even if it's cold, even if heat rises and the attic door will very likely remain open and therefore the house will end up bleeding warmth from that window.

Either way, the sun streams in from all the attic windows, and although it's unfinished, it's bright and airy and very much not closed in. There is, of course, no dust. It's big, but it's very much not empty-- and nothing is creepily amorphously covered in sheets, nothing can really hide up there.

There against one wall are three child-sized twin beds and one regular-sized, and their mattresses stacked up next to them; there's all the other furniture from the four rooms-- including the ones they hadn't gone into-- it all matches the impressions in the carpets. There are plastic tubs containing linens, mattress liners, blankets, and comforters.

There are other bedframes and mattresses, adult-sized, and the sort of furniture that goes in guest rooms, and some stacked-up framed wall-art, and another couple of plastic tubs containing bedding. There's furniture that clearly goes downstairs -- tables, chairs, a couple of sofas, armchairs, chests of drawers and breakfronts and a cabinet for a home entertainment system, boxes of utensils and appliances and knick-knacks, boxes of books, bookshelves, area rugs rolled up, paintings and prints in frames, other toys, boxes of board games...

None of the stuff from downstairs is labeled, none of the stuff that would normally be wrapped in newspapers actually is, but there are tubs of baby clothes and baby toys that were obviously packed up by human hands at the far side of the attic, along with out-of-season holiday decorations and winter clothes and anything that the Chibas would normally have packed away in the attic when it's temporarily not being used.

And in front of all of the stuff they put away up there, there are boxes with years and labels printed on them. Repurposed shoeboxes and file-boxes and a little metal lock box.

Nephrite has posed:
"Of course it's an attic," Neph replies grimly. "You know what? Why not. If the house is going to eat us, we should get it over with."

If the house does not want sass or occasional fits of screaming, it should not have been made to accomodate so many children.

It is, however, attempting to be chill, so the largest of the children in question is also attempting to be chill. So chill. He chilly narrates their ascent up the stairs, muttering about how many stairs there are and what color the walls are now and how many spiders he expects to find. Refusing to give silence a chance to creep in.

"Oh," he says at the top, seeing the perfectly innocent collection of stuff. "Might still be spiders, though."

Jadeite has posed:
"I think we can handle a spider," Saburo mutters as they climb the stairs, and other things like this, having trouble truly believing that the house is being the bigger man here. Maybe it's easy because the house is so big.

He would accept a spider (a singular spider) if it meant this ended sooner. Maybe he would bring Naru next time. He would bet Naru wouldn't have this much trouble.

But the attic is as innocent as he'd believed it would, as he'd known it would be, because the house is their friend, or something like it, anyway, maybe something deeper and older than a friend.

And even better than innocent, the house has given them absolute paydirt because that is a treasure trove if he ever saw one.

"I will take a dozen spiders if that's what I think it is," he says, clapping Neil on the back as he darts past him to open the first of the bulging shoeboxes.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
It's completely what Saburo thinks it is. Fortunately there are no spiders. The boxes being labeled by year has the hilarious side note of the first box being labeled 1992-1997, and the second box being 1998... and it's not so hilarious that after 1998 they only go to 2004, and that box is significantly lighter. Only half the weight.

The first box, being from before Mamoru was even born, probably doesn't currently hold much interest aside from confirming that the shoeboxes hold pictures, and also SD cards. Each year is carefully separated and indexed, with dates and identifying information written lightly on the backs. There are pictures of the house, pictures from trips, pictures of the couple taken by other people, pictures of them painting some of the rooms in the house, random earlier pictures of the two presumably before they were married, et cetera.

The second box, the pictures are separated in envelopes by month, and no, Chiyoko is not pregnant. But there are pictures of them getting that little bedroom with the windowseat ready.

In July, there are a few pictures of Chiyoko and a woman who looks enough like her to be her sister, grinning with her in some shared joke, showing her the little bedroom-- the woman's delighted face, the screech is practically audible. The pictures with her-- her name is written as Iza-chan.

Then there are no pictures until mid-August, and the first ones-- they're of either Chiyoko or Hinata holding a blue-eyed baby with black hair, grinning like idiots mostly. Mostly, because some of them look a little sad behind the happiness-- but mostly. The baby is named as Endymion, generally, or sometimes 'our prince' or 'the prince' or 'Endy-tan' for crying out loud. He looks pretty chill, mostly sleeping. In the occasional pictures where he's awake, he's looking directly at the camera. At three weeks they managed to catch a laugh on film.

They took pictures of legit everything. There are so many pictures.

Nephrite has posed:
Neph hangs back as Jadeite beelines for the boxes. Covering his back for spiders, ghosts, moving walls, that sort of thing. He's still not fully convinced that this is not some elaborate attempt to lure them both in here -- his spooky mansion had favorite rooms too, after all, and what's the point of being the lone paranoid person in a horror story if you're not using it to protect your friends who are obviously oblivious to the present threat?

He was not the one who the house was directing its instructions to, but maybe some of its thoughts filtered into Neph's subconscious, because he notices the windows, and immediately moves to open the nearest one. A visible escape route would not be a terrible thing, no matter how cold the winter air outside.

Jadeite has posed:
Instructions like 'open a window' are wonderful in theory, but are in practice easily forgotten by the amount of new things the house has to show him, all the time. Like for example, the box of pictures, and the images immediately available to him.

But when he does notice Nephrite hanging out by the window, he just nods and moves the second box closer.

"This is the one we want," he says, and holds out one of the pictures of Chiyoko or Hinata holding a blue-eyed, black-haired baby, Eney-tan scrawled on the back. "Just look!"

Nephrite has posed:
One window opens easily, offering a clear escape route. That should be enough to reduce the claustrophobic feeling of the attic, but Neph's paranoid nature has him circling around the perimeter, checking out each of them. He spots red hair in a tree. Well, time to test another theory. He sticks his head out that window. "Hey Kyouko! If you hear screams it's because the walls are eating us!" He waits until her head turns to confirm that yes, this is the actual outdoors and not just an elaborate illusion of it.

Saburo's voice pulls him back inside. "You actually found them? Lemme see." He moves closer to inspect the held out photo. "Wow, that's -- really him. All tiny and cute." Neil glances up at Saburo with a genuine grin on his face. "This is going to mean so much to him. You did good here, man."

Jadeite has posed:
"But the walls aren't actually going to eat us," Saburo points out, well aware that Nephrite isn't paying attention to him. It's more for the sake of the house's feelings than anything.

Because the house did it. The pictures are in his hands.

"I told you. There's no way anybody raised a kid and didn't take pictures, that's just not a thing." He's got the picture there in his hand, and the fact that it's just one of many has him grinning like a fool. "They called him Endy-tan. You think these will be enough to let us get away with it too?"

Nephrite has posed:
Neil's grin is still there. No, the walls didn't eat them, for all his grumbling about it, and it did the thing their best diplomat asked and now they have a treasure thought to be lost forever. "I think you can get away with calling him anything, because it's you."

Some people make doors slam shut in irritation, and some make them open, and it's clear who is who in this room.

Jadeite has posed:
Guess we'll have to test it out, after Kazu-chan's birthday, huh?" And oh, he is absolutely pushing his luck with that one. But hey. This is a win, and a big one, so maybe the universe, and more importantly Mamoru, will side with him on that one too.

The picture, and the precious moment it represents, is carefully placed back into the box where it came from, and that box itself is lifted. The photo albums, carefully labeled, aren't.

"We can take this box," he says, "But we leave the others. I promised I'd bring Endy-tan for a proper visit, and an incentive will make sure we don't forget."

Nephrite has posed:
"Please make sure I'm in the room when you drop that name," Neil whispers with the delighted anticipation of a kid on Christmas Eve. Of course, that means increasing the likelihood of being in the blast radius, but it will be so worth it.

"Sure," he adds after Saburo's assurance to the house. "Incentive. I'll be keeping Kyouko company in her tree for that one."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Literally all the attic windows open then, as if inviting Neil to help himself.

Jadeite has posed:
Saburo snickers, because Neil deserved that for sure and he has no regrets at all.

"I'll be sure. I might wait until after we're back, before I start a family tradition that definitely gets me killed."

If he gets Rogaia to start calling Kazuo that, no one will ever find his body.

"Come on, let's go before you taunt the house further."

Nephrite has posed:
How unlucky for Saburo that they have found the perfect house for stashing unfindable bodies in.

The sound of every window opening at once has Neil bristling like a startled dog. "Alright! I'm out! I'm going back to places where the windows aren't threatening!" He pushes past Saburo and races down the stairs, where he will be forced to wait in the Hall of the Slamming Doors, because he's not going to leave him behind in the Murder Troll House even if he lacks sympathy for Neph's incredibly reasonable concerns.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
If Neil tells Mamoru his names for the places in the house, Mamoru will not be able to stop laughing.

Either way, once the two of them make it to the front door-- without incident except for a linen closet in the hall quietly opening when only Neil is looking-- they will find, rolled up next to the door, the carpet from Jadeite's room upstairs.

The door is still open a crack.

Jadeite has posed:
Saburo laughs the entire way down the stairs, carefully taking each step one at a time because his little box of cargo is infinitely precious. It's not that he doesn't understand Neil's fear - he does, and he sympathizes, it's just that the house is being hilariously petty about it. It's like watching someone bully a dog with a vacuum. You know it's wrong, but you also know there's no danger...

"Let's go," he says as they leave the Hall of The Slamming Doors, which could really use a few funhouse mirrors just to sell it. When they reach the front entrance, and he sees the rolled up carpet, he has to stop himself from doing a little dance. "This has been a really great day. Would you uh, grab that for me?"

Nephrite has posed:
Neil cannot get out the front door fast enough. He dashes so fast that he overshoots the front step and ends up ankle deep in snow, with the cold yet blessedly immobile ground beneath. "Alright, so never taking that entrance again. You can hang out with your new haunted bestie all you want. I'm teleporting straight to my palace from now on."

He scowls at Jadeite's declaration about what sort of day it has been. "For the record, the fact that the murder house wants to give us a rolled up carpet is not remotely comforting."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The door politely waits until Saburo has gotten the carpet out, all Neils and their not-help aside, before prissily closing. And then the attic windows shut one by one.

Maybe it's seeing if it can get him to run down the driveway and trip and eat snow.

Jadeite has posed:
"It's the carpet from my room, that isn't creepy! It knows I liked it, and it's being nice. Think of it as Casper the Friend Ghost living in our house."

And unlike Neil, he carefully descends the stairs and does not go diving into the snow, but carefully walking over it.

Nephrite has posed:
Neil grumbles as he picks up the carpet, casting a scathing look up at the slamming windows. "Joke's on you, house! Can't get me out here! Casper the Friendly Ghost doesn't bully people around."

He hauls the carpet up on one shoulder. "Well congratulations. You've got photos and a present from your spooky new friend."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Just to make the point, a cold wind whips through the trees and blows the snow off the driveway, then plops a small branchful directly on Neil.