everything's better with daemons [open/ hdm au]

[Oswin Oswald]

Mysterious deaths? A town in fear? That certainly sounded like a job for the Doctor's companion! Normally, a job for both the Doctor and his companion, but hey. Oswin had to do things by herself sometimes. Variety was the spice of life and all of those old platitudes. But, since it was probably ill-advised to go somewhere alone, Oswin had persuaded Regina to leave Storybrooke for a while and come investigate with her. It wouldn't be more than a day or two, after all, and Storybrooke could certainly handle itself, couldn't it? There really wasn't anyone besides Regina or the Doctor that Oswin could get to come with her (daemon not withstanding), so after just a little bit of coaxing, Oswin had gotten Regina to come along.

Which was why the two of them were being carted across the causeway between the town and the old house that seemed to be the center of the rumors surrounding these mysterious deaths. Oswin hadn't been able to get much out of the locals, but all signs had pointed towards the manor in the marsh. She'd tried to land the TARDIS closer, but it hadn't really wanted to work for them. No matter, though, with just a flash of stolen borrowed psychic paper, Oswin and Regina had become investigators with the police, and were therefore granted transportation in the form of a horse-drawn cart that was trotting along at a good speed. With Ossiandre lying comfortably with his head in her lap, Oswin rested her arm on the side of the cart and peered across the marsh to get her first glimpse of the mansion.

It was a tall, imposing building that looked more part of the marsh than anything else. The manor was built on what looked to be a small oasis, an island in the middle of Eel Marsh. Whoever it was that had lived here clearly hadn't wanted visitors. Surrounding it was a small stint of forest that partially hid the house from view. Definitely not a friendly sort of people that used to live here. After just a few more minutes, the cart rattled to a stop outside the dilapidated gates, allowing Oswin to grab her bag of essentials (they were staying the night after all) and hop out, her terrier daemon close behind. Fishing in her pocket, she pulled out a few coins the Doctor had given her and handed them over to the man that had driven them with orders to come and fetch them in the morning.

As the driver began his trip back to the mainland, Oswin turned to Regina, giving her a grin. "Well. Might as well take a look inside, yeah? 'S going to be a bit difficult to look 'round out here in a few hours, the tide's about to come in." It was just a bit worrying that the tide was going to trap the two of them there for the night, but Oswin was comforted by the fact that her communicator was up and running and around her wrist. Still, Ossiandre felt her uneasiness at times, and would shift nervously on his paws. It was so hard to hide emotions when one had a daemon, but Oswin was used to it. Besides, there were more important things to worry about than displaying her nerves. Exploring the house and the surrounding grounds for one.

[Regina Mills]

Regina wasn't particularly thrilled to be spending a night in a so-called 'haunted house'. In fact, she hadn't realized it because she hadn't had too much occasion to be away from Storybrooke lately - at least not overnight - but leaving made her feel slightly ... anxious. If something happened - if Henry needed her, or if Cora decided to strike, or if some magical mishap occurred - she'd be here and not there, and then whatever damage that resulted would be on her hands. Henry, especially, was her responsibility, and a mother being far away from her child could be almost as painful a strain as a person putting distance between their daemon and themselves. But Henry had her cell number, however rarely he used it. If he needed her, he would call. ..At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

As she stepped out of the cart that had brought them here, her bag slung over one shoulder, her demon slunk out after her like a silent shadow from here he'd been curled up - surprisingly compact, for a lynx - atop her feet on the cart floor. Sylph's wide green eyes were just as cool and guarded as Regina's tended to be, and though his stoic silence and fluid, smooth movements as he paced at her side gave little away, if one paid close enough attention the spotted fur along his spine was bristling. Both Regina and her daemon were on edge, distracted - but as she paused at Oswin's side, Sylph pressed his side against her leg in a silent gesture of reassurance. He was good at this, keeping his cool and is focus - sometimes, he was even better than Regina herself.

She glanced away from Oswin and up at the house, eyes narrowing a bit as she took in the architecture. She quirked an eyebrow. "Doesn't look particularly welcoming, does it?" Regina observed wryly, eventually tuning back to Oswin. It did not frighten her, despite the stories - very few things frightened her anymore, mostly because she didn't have all that much to worry about losing. And the monsters inside this house, if they did actually exist, could be no worse than the ones she'd already faced. Despite her previous words, she nodded. "But I suppose you're right. We won't accomplish much standing around out here. Shall we?" She took one last glance back over her shoulder, at the marsh surrounding them, and frowned at it as if it were a particularly stubborn enemy that had decided to challenge her. There was no changing the course of nature, not even with her abilities.

And with that, Regina slowly started up the path towards the door. Sylph cast a furtive, questioning glance to Ossiandre, the way he so often did when Oswin and Regina decided to head off on some misadventure, and slipped after her. "Just what do you think is with those townspeople?" Regina asked at length, assuming Oswin was walking right along with her at this point. "They're more neurotic than the majority of Storybrooke. I didn't think that was possible." She punctuated her words with a smirk, despite the fact that she knew she probably shouldn't have mentioned Storybrooke. She'd been trying not to think about it - it was the only way she'd be able to relax, at this point.

[Oswin Oswald]

Turning as Regina spoke, Oswin flashed her a grin. "It's a haunted house, what d'you expect?" And what a beauty of a haunted house it was. Huge in size, it towered over both of them, rising out of the marsh like a part of the landscape. Vines and all manner of plant-life had grown over the house in it's years of neglect, and the entire building had a sense of fallen grandeur. "Could stand a bit of a fix-up, though, yeah?" Oswin slung her bag over her shoulder, Ossiandre trotting at her feet. She felt no fear either, though her bravery came from months of travel with the Doctor. She and her daemon had gone up against much, much worse than ghosts. Really, she still wasn't a firm believer in the paranormal.

We shall indeed, Oswin replied, taking a few quick steps to catch up to Regina. By her side, Ossiandre simply gave Slyph a terrier's version of a grin, totally undeterred by past experience with the two of them getting into some sort of trouble. Oswin's daemon was just as adventurous and eager to explore as she, if not a little more energetic and unable to sit still for long periods of time. Even the cart ride over had been a bit of a challenge, resulting in a bit of extra energy to snap at a passing bug or two as they trekked through the overgrown grounds of the mansion. Glancing around a glimpse of stone caught Oswin's eye for a moment. Peering a little closer as she walked, she decided it must be some sort of family cemetery. Well. That was cliche, wasn't it?

Continuing on up the path at Regina's side, Oswin looked over as she spoke and shrugged. "Dunno. Whatever's in this house's got them spooked pretty bad. Haven't heard much about what exactly it is, though." Reaching into her belt, she pulled out something that resembled a modern-day tablet with a transparent screen. " 'S why I've bought this along. Thought I might be able to get some better answers if I looked into a database or two." Walking and typing was one of Oswin's many skills, and she was certainly showing it off now. "All anyone in the town'd tell me was to stay away. Finally managed to get a story out of someone. Apparently, a man named Arthur Kipps was the last person to come out to this place. He and his son died a few days later. Railway accident."

They reached the doorway before Oswin's computer in miniature had finished searching, so she tucked it away for now, looking up at the large doorway. Taking hold of the knob, Oswin gave it a turn. Unlocked. Brilliant. The door swung open to reveal a dusty foyer, with two black chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and a staircase to the upper levels to the left-hand side. Briefly, Ossiandre pinned his ears back against his head, looking around and murmuring something about not liking this. "Quiet, Os. 'S just a house" Oswin was entirely undeterred, stepping inside and looking around. Her daemon followed only a little reluctantly. Dog senses tended to interfere with one's spirit of adventure. "Well!" Oswin's voice echoed around the room. "Might as well have a look 'round at the rest of the place, yeah?"

[Regina Mills]

Regina had to agree that the house did not seem to be in the best condition. She supposed that was only to be expected if the place hadn't been lived in for years, but even so she eyed it with just a touch of disdain. "That's an understatement." she remarked dryly, but made no further comment on the house's condition. It was a 'haunted house', supposedly, as Oswin had said. She supposed it would have been almost disappointing to come here and find the place looking cheery. What did interest her, far more than all the superstition concerning the place, was the history behind it. She wasn't sure why, but she was vaguely aware of a distinct sort of feeling that was beginning to come over her. It felt like...well, like it should have been ominous, but like the taste of a fine wine that varied depending on what you drank it with, to Regina the feeling felt a little more like sorrow. And for some reason, it made her think of Henry again. She wasn't sure why being here would provoke such strange emotion, but she decided she would have liked to know more about whoever had lived her previously. The interior of the house, hopefully, would be able to tell them plenty.

She glanced over to Oswin as she spoke again, her attention focused on whatever it was she was typing. The story of this...Arthur Kipps and his son made her frown. Had no one attempted to approach the house since? These people really were incredibly paranoid. "And I suppose that did nothing to ease everyone's suspicions. Really, all it takes is a few coincidental deaths and they're suddenly certain that something supernatural is at fault." So many places in this world and her own had earned the reputation of being 'cursed' for this reason - when really, the only thing haunting people was their own imaginations. Still, she wasn't ruling anything out just yet, and she remained on her guard as they reached the house's door. Sylph, who up until this point had been watching Ossiandre warily as if half-expecting the terrier daemon to explode from all the pent-up energy, now silently turned his attention to the house. Though he said nothing - he really was a daemon of few words, even in company he was used to - Regina could feel his unease mingling with her own. They were both being silly, she told herself. Even if there was something wrong with this house, she was certain it was nothing they couldn't deal with.

As they stepped inside, Sylph slipped forward to prowl protectively a little ways in front of them, his eyes quickly and easily adjusting to the dimly lit foyer. Regina quirked an eyebrow at the dust and cobwebs and generally stuffy atmosphere, but hadn't really expected anything else from a house that hadn't been tended to in some time. Her gaze briefly traveled along the rows of portraits that ascended the wall along the staircase before Oswin suggested exploring a little. "I almost don't know where to begin." she murmured, furrowing her brow a little. That odd...feeling had increased. "I suppose it's easiest to start downstairs first." That, and she wasn't particularly keen to venture upstairs just yet - but no need to voice that thought when she wasn't even sure why she was having it.

[Oswin Oswald]

"Probably the best idea, yeah. Work our way up." The device on Oswin's belt beeped as she searched for a door to the basement of the house. Taking it out, she flicked her fingers a few times across the screen as Ossiandre attempted to rear up on his hind legs to look. Normally, he'd be on her lap if she were doing something with her tech, or at the very least, well-informed of what was being done. Needless to say, Oswin shook him off for now, continuing to walk beside Regina. "Doesn't look like there's much on this place anywhere. Just old records. Only..." she paused, tapping the screen a few times. "Ah! Here we are...this'll probably tell us what's gone on."

Or not. Oswin frowned a little at the minimal information she was provided. "Weird...only thing here's an old rhyme." Following Regina down a nearby hall, she read aloud as the text scrolled by. "During afternoon tea, there's a shift in the air, a bone-trembling chill that tells you she's there. There are those who believe that the whole town is cursed, but the house on the marsh is by far the worst. What she wants is unknown, but she always comes back. The specter of darkness, the woman in black." From within the depths of the house, something seemed to groan. Old wood, Oswin suspected. It was an old house, probably just settling. Really, a marsh wasn't the ideal place to build a house, the foundation must have been a nightmare.

"Sounds like a children's rhyme," Oswin remarked, reading the poem over again. "Sort of weird subject for one, though, yeah? Though...if these are the rumors going 'round, I'd imagine the kids must have picked up on it." It was a bit troubling, though, to know that these children had most likely grown up with parents paranoid enough to drill this story into their heads. Oswin was fond of children (she hadn't been Junior Entertainment Manager for nothing, after all) and to know that the children in the village had made up this rather disturbing rhyme was somewhat troubling. Ossidandre's ear twitched briefly, the fur on his spine beginning to bristle ever so slightly with Oswin's unease. Something about this place was very, very wrong.

Tucking her tablet away, Oswin tried a nearby door, only to have it swing open to reveal a set of rickety wooden stairs that clearly led down to the basement of the house. "Looks like this'll take us where we need to go," she told Regina, switching her torch on and shining the beam of light down the stairs. It looked dry enough down there, though with the foundation being part of the marsh, they would have to be careful. "Watch your step." Carefully, Oswin stepped down on the first stair, making sure it would hold her weight before continuing down slowly and in the same way. It wouldn't do to injure herself out here, especially with the tide coming in soon. Ossiandre followed suit, not having to worry as much.