The Creepy, Longing For The Days When It Was Abandoned Mansion , Saturday

[deathsmajesty]

Obviously, the best way to spend the morning after a party was blissfully asleep until sometime in the early afternoon. But, if for one reason or another, sleep was not possible, luxuriating in bed anyway, with a cup of coffee prepared just the way you liked it and a bowl of tart berries and sweet cream was a decent third. (Second was a long, thorough wake up in the fashion she'd discussed with Steve last night.) And you know what didn't make the list at all?

Someone pounding on the front door. The kind of insistent banging that suggested they were fine keeping this up all day.

*If that is Dean again, you have my permission to eat him,* Liliana thought furiously. *In fact, I may just help.*

*I don't believe any forays into cannibalism are required, Mistress,* her steward replied. *But I do believe that you may wish to come down. Clothed.

Liliana might owe the Jedi on the island royalties, because she suddenly had a bad feeling about this...

[Open for the gentleman who lives here already should he be so inclined, as well as any guests, big or little, who might make their way here.]