Alrighty, so this is between me and EternalRaine323! You can read it but PLEASE don't post! Thank you and enjoy!

Silence illuminated the office except for the constant tick-tocking of the clock hanging on the wall behind the oaken desk. The office was set up just like any other. Upon entering the room, one would see a large window taking up the entire other wall. The window was carefully crafted of Plexiglass to prevent any potential suicides on the company's time. On the far end of room parallel to the door, sat a desk. Stationary and paperwork drowned the top so it could not be seen. A PC sat on the right side of the desk. Papers were thrown on top of it, and it was apparent it hadn't been used in a while.

Behind this ordinary desk sat an ordinary woman chewing on the end of her ball-point pen. Frustration and boredom mapped her face clearly and dimmed the light of her brilliant emerald eyes. Her obsidian hair sat atop her head in a messing bun that was put together all to quickly in a rush to get out the door. Rectangle frame glasses sat on the end of her nose, and no matter how many times she pushed them up, they continued to slide down again. A frown tugged at her lips as she laid her head down on her desk and covered it with her arms. What was I thinking becoming a reporter? Nothing interesting ever happens. When was the last time I had a story? Two weeks ago? she thought to herself. Her eyelids drooped and became heavy. She began to drift off into a restless sleep.

A loud ring resounded in the quiet room. The reporter bolted upright, awakened from her nap. Putting the receiver to her ear she spoke. "Hello. This is Julia Viole, reporter for ETRN News. How may I help you?" she recited as she had done so many times before. The light in her eyes remained dull as she pulled a notepad from her desk drawer and jotted down some notes. "Uh-huh...looked like the deceased founder...been spotted before...uh-huh,"she repeated as she wrote down details. "Thank you, ma'am. We will look into it. Have a nice day," she finalized the end of the call with a click as the receiver reconnected with the base.

The call was so familiar that Julia could have told herself what the issue was. There had been some rumors in the city about some deceased founder of some school showing up around his old place. Some think it's a hoax, some think it's a ghost. Personally, Julia thought it was a ridiculous story made up by the elders to keep the younger ones from wandering too close to the old place. Her dad had told her the very same stories when she was a child. The rumor hadn't changed throughout the years, and Julia doubted if it ever would. Still, it was a story, and she would investigate. It gave her an excuse to leave this blasted office.

A pain shot through her leg as she stood up from the office chair. "I really have been siting too long," she grunted as she tried to work out the muscle. With the pain subsiding, Julia grabbed her car keys from under a pile a papers and stepped toward the door. The door swung open as she grabbed the handle and twisted it. Stepping out, she pulled the door shut behind her. Turning to face all the desks that lay perfectly neat in front of her, she walked to the closest one. "Harry, I have a lead and I'm going out. I won't be back tonight, so lock the place up when you leave, all right?" she told the man sitting at the desk. he nodded as she tossed him the key to the front door.

Upon leaving the building, Julia moved down the steps and out toward the parking lot. She pressed the button on her key chain and a beeping noise resounded in the lot. Making her way through the cars, just as she did every day, she opened the door to her white Altima and get into the driver's seat. With her seat belt pulled tight around her, Julia placed the key in the ignition and turned. The car roared to life. The parking lot was easy to navigate, seeing as she had done it so many times before, and she was soon on the road. She weaved in and out of the dozens of other cars that were on their way home. It was six o'clock and she wasn't the only one wit a place to be. Horns honked all around as she pulled off onto a dirt road.

The Nissan slowed to a stop as Julia parked it in the driveway of the mansion that had so many myths written on its walls. She stepped pout of the car and strolled up to the front door. The sound of a buzzing came from the doorbell when Julia pressed her finger to it. Three minutes passed, but no answer. This happened every time she or anyone came out here. She wished there was some way she could get ahold of the person who lived here. Without her realizing it, her hand found itself around the door knob. She twisted and it sung open.

With the shock of the unlocked door still bearing on Julia, she stepped inside the house. It was dark and ominous, just like the ones seen in horror movies. Julia stretched her neck to look at the balcony above her. It was all so large, like nothing she had ever seen. The door swung closed of its own accord when she let go of the handle. The noise it made caused Julia to jump in fright. She stumbled and fell to the ground. "Today is just not my day," she said to herself as she steadied herself back to her feet. With the door shut, the house was too dark for her to see anything that wasn't right in front of her face. She held her hand out to navigate herself as she explored the home.

It was nearing the middle of the day when Keeren McCallistair heard the doorbell ring from his basement room several tens of feet below the ground. Dark brown eyes that glimmered with a disturbing red light to them opened slowly in the complete darkness of the windowless room and the pale, handsome face of a man who appeared to be less than twenty-five years old frowned slowly. Messy black hair that looked to be cut with a knife it was so jaggedly done, stuck up in all directions as the lithe form got up from the bed slowly. He silently cursed the daylight hours as his preternaturally made body made its displeasure known by sending tiny jolts of pain throughout the chest where a heart struggled always to beat and yet never quite did so.

Running a longfingered hand through the disheveled mop on his head, Keeran scowled, feeing his lips turn down in distaste. He never had been an early riser and now of all times of the day was one of the worst. It was like having someone get up at midnight from a sound sleep and then to add insult to injury forcing them to drink powdered glass. Over the last thousand years he'd had plenty of time to get used to such pain and, if he so chose he could withstand the direct sunlight for about six hours though he'd be very, very red afterwards. Passing before a mirror hanging on the wall near his washstand, the pale man looked with eyes that glowed red in the total darkness.

He could see better in this lightless area of his rooms than he could in daylight shockingly enough. 'Mind you....being what I am, I'd be shocked if I couldn't see well in the darkness that I call home.' His wry thoughts made the scowl on his face turn to a grin that, if there had been any sort of luminescence available, would show that his canines were elongated. Those and his glowing eyes made his hunger obvious as the vampire, yes he was a vampire, hadn't partaken of any blood source within the last several weeks. Dressed only in a pair of black boxers, the vampires height was an amazing sight, along with the lean and at the same time muscular body he had gained over the years Keeran was a striking person and not one easily dismissed unless he wished to be.

Dressing hurriedly, and by hurriedly he wasn't completely visible to human eyes at that time, the vampire pulled on jeans and a loose black t-shirt to be decent, amazed at this times idea of fashion. A decade or three ago and he'd have been fussing with cravats and neckties to be considered 'decent'. A quick check into the small refrigerator near the steel door he had to his room to grab a bottle of cold blood, and he was up the stairs and into the mostly empty kitchen of the mansion above ground.

The scent that greeted his nose from the area of the doorway was disconcerting at the moment, though he was certain he'd smelled it before somewhere, was a womans scent. Not so much perfume as just a pleasant body scent that he rarely found pleasurable from a human nowadays. Sniffing appreciatively, Keeren popped the cap off the dark glass bottle that hid the sight of the fresh if cold blood, masking it in the form of a pop bottle of sorts. Taking a drink from it, he felt his fangs disappear, receding into his gumlines neatly while he knew the gleam of red in his eyes had vanished into regular everyday chocolate brown.

He was still paler than any human had a right to be of course but it wasn't an unhealthy whiteness, meaning he didn't look sick. ".........If you find breaking and entering to be a chore then I suggest you call out a bit louder the next time you enter a home without permission." Striding forwards at a deliberately slow pace, Keeran rounded the corner to the main entrance and stopped at the sight of the woman standing there.

((Sorry it's not as long as yours! I had a total brain dead moment there! ^_^: ))

Julia jumped, startled by a voice which sounded through the house. With the echo distorting the direction, Julia had no idea where it had come from. The voice sounded commanding and strong. It did little to make her feel welcome or chase away the creeps that had developed in her mind. The darkness was getting to her, and it was starting to conjure images. Gooseflesh developed on her arms and legs, sending a tingling sensation throughout her body. She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest as a shiver ran down her spine.

Emerald eyes strained in the darkness, but could not see the figure which hid behind it. Julia stood breathless for a moment as she tried to find her voice. "I-I a-a-am from ETRN,"she stuttered weakly. Great! she thought Now I sound as if I were a scared child. Be more assertive, woman. She stood herself up straighter, although she was sure this made no difference seeing as she was swamped in darkness. "There have been reports of ghost sightings around this place. I was wondering if I might take a look or speak with the owner,"she explained to the man who had spoken.

Her arm stretched out before her again as Julia tried to find the man. She took a few cautious steps in front of her. Not hitting anything, she moved a bit farther, and farther still. Taking one last step, Julia reached out and touched something stone cold. It sent chills through her body. She shivered a few times, and removed her hand. The cold object felt like the chest of a icy body. It puffed out and sucked in as if it were breathing.

After a moment, Julia realized the object was the man who had spoken. Blood rushed to her cheeks in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she told the man. You're such a clumsy girl. Why do you have to always run into things and people? she scolded herself. "I did not mean to bump into you, but I cannot see in the darkness. Is there perhaps a light switch I might flip?" she asked him, hoping for a polite 'yes.'

She knew very well she did not belong in his home. Julia knew he did not want her there. However, she had spent far too many nights in the office waiting for the clock to tick and tell her it was time to go home. She needed this story, for her job and for her sanity. Julia resolved that she would not leave this place until she had enough information to write an entire article. So, she stood there, inches from the man. She patiently waited for him to speak.

((Sorry about it being short. I'm in the middle of making dinner. ))

Slightly amused at the womans stuttering, Keeren allowed a faint smile to cross his face before her words fully registered. She was reporter, some nosy human woman who didn't know her place in the world. If there was one thing that he'd never found very amusing it was nosy people. They tended to end up dead around him.

As the human woman stepped, well rather stumbled, closer, Keeren frowned and then sucked in a startled breath when her hand connected with his chest. His shirt was on but it hadn't been done up so her warmth had made contact with his frigid flesh and the effect was both immediate and rather shocking. He hadn't had a womans hand, be it human or otherwise, touch his bare flesh in many years so his first instinctive response was to pull her closer when she retreated with an appology he didn't hear. At the mention of a light switch however his sanity returned with such swiftness that he took a step back himself.

Reaching out his own hand, he flicked on the switch that was not a foot away from where they were, the instant switch from darkness to light in the entranceway making his eyes narrow in pain. "You aren't welcomed here woman. There are no ghosts here and if you believed such drivel then I can suggest a very good psychiatrist for you, he's a very nice person who can help you with your problems." Sounding not in the slightest bit pleasant, he stepped back again as her scent wafted to his nose once more, the place where her hand had touched feeling as though it retained the heat from her flesh. "As for an interview I'll give you ten minutes." Finishing off the bottle of blood, he replaced the cap on the bottle and headed into the dark kitchen. All of the enormous windows in the mansion had been painted black and then had had thick curtains covering them to prevent sunlight from entering.

He might be able to withstand it for several hours but the summer months were murder on even a vampire as old as he was. Rubbing his eyes as he felt a headache beginning to form at his temples, Keeran strode into the kitchen, rinsed out the bottle to make sure that the leftover blood wouldn't be identifiable then tossed the bottle into the recycling bin by the large and heavy oak table that took up a good portion of the kitchen. "I can answer questions about the history of this house and some about my family but do NOT pry too deeply. You would regret it." Okay, so her waking him up before dusk was not a good idea and he was in a bad mood but he still mentally berated himself for sounding so unpleasant. By nature he was a very charming man, he was a gentleman as well as a nobleman and he took pride in such. Today apparently hapened to be a bad day.

It felt as if she had plunged into a swimming pool filled with ice water as he pulled her close. She shivered uncontrollably as the goosefleash on her skin became almost razor sharp. Relief filled her when he pushed her away. Even thought he was no longer touching her, her skin still felt as if she was frozen in a block of ice. What's the matter with him? she thought to herself, but said nothing. It took a while before her body reverted back to its normal temperature of ninety eight point six. The room, however, stayed as cold as it had been when she stepped inside.

When the man flipped the light switch, all Julia saw was white light. Then, as her eyes adjusted, she began to see things clearer. The lighting wasn't quite to her liking, but it was not her place to comment. Drawing the curtains would have brought in more light and made things easier to see, but for some reason the man strayed away from them. That's weird. Does he not like light, or something?" she wondered, making a mental note to find out what he had against light.

Realizing she could see her surroundings now, she quickly turned her head to see the man who lived in this dreaded place. He was quite a handsome man, and this lead to Julia asking herself what a gorgeous man like him was doing cooped up in a place like this. His body dazzled her for a while. She turned her gaze when she finally realized she was staring. Blood rushed to her cheeks again. Once again, she found herself blushing from embarrassment. She seemed to be making a fool of herself pretty well tonight.

Julia followed the man into the kitchen. She made sure not to follow too closely in case he was someone who appreciated his personal space. A grin dawned her face and made her eyes sparkle when he told her he would grant her an interview. Her hand whipped inside her jacket and quickly removed a notepad. The pen she had tucked in her bun slid flawlessly out of her hair. She flipped open the notepad and got ready to scribble notes. Her gaze moved back to the man as he stood in the kitchen.

Julia had gotten the job at ETRN straight out of college. She had worked for them for about five years. That meant she was a twenty-seven year old woman with half a decade of reporting experience. At many company Christmas parties she had gloated of her success and improvement. All those years of experience and gloating had not even come close to preparing her for this moment. Her mind went blank. The rehearsal she had put herself through in the car, planning her questions were gone.

A dumbstruck look crossed her face as she tried to improvise. "Um..." was all she could manage. Julia stood there for a few minutes before something came to her. "You said something about the history of this house. How old is this place, mister..." she left the question open in hopes that he would fill in the blank. Julia generally felt more comfortable knowing her interviewee's name. It also gave her time to think up more questions.

Keeren frowned, motioning to the table in the kitchen. He then strode past her and pulled out a chair for her to sit in, waiting patiently for her to take a seat. While he waited, he spoke quietly, the scottish brogue that his voice still retained after a thousand years making his voice seem deeper than it was. Whenever he got angry his words barely ever registered as more than snarls and if he was furious? He'd switch over to old Gaelic, his native tongue. "This house was built in the early 1600's by my ancestors Keeran McCallistair, I'm named after him by the way. He and his wife Mira McCallistair were also the founders of Toriana Senior Highschool a few blocks over though at the time it had been a school for all grade levels." Speaking in a calm voice, he took note of the faint blush on her cheeks. It hadn't escaped him that she had been staring, he tended to make people of the human kind do that. His skin was paler than any fair skinned womans and though he was tall, he was slender but not skinny and had been mistaken for a woman many times over the years, especially in the early to late 1500's when it had been fashionable to grow ones hair longer.

At the moment he was only mildly irritated, his earlier frustration at being awakened so darned early fading as he looked over the pretty young human in his company. She was a pretty little thing too, with eyes the color of emeralds and hair that was in a messy bun that, oddly enough, didn't make her look like a school teacher. Her glasses he noted, needed to be fixed, they were nearly hanging off the end of her nose. All in all, she was cute and pretty, not some immensely beautiful creature or one that looked as though she'd break if he so much as brushed against her accidentally.

He'd seen plenty of those, both men and women, in his lifetime and truth be told he had gotten bored of their 'perfections'. Once the reporter was seated, he pulled out his own chair and sat, long-fingered hands clasped together on the table while he thought for a moment then added. "There are thirteen rooms in this house, bedrooms, with a large kitchen as you see, the common area where we just were by the front doors, a sitting room, a dining room, a servants rooms as well as a sun room and garden area that takes up a total of three acres behind the house. Everything is made with mahogany, a very solid and sturdy wood with a good shine to it and finally there's a wine cellar down below that's not in use." He didn't add that under the wine cellar there was his rooms, four of them, each with an exit and entry point in tunnels that led to the city and the forest located behind the house in case he had to escape from a Hunter attack. Those were still going strong to this day, especially after the old Witch Hunts of the last few dozen decades or so. His face went blank at the memory of those and then he added as though it were an afterthought. “All in all, the house is just an old relic really, I only live on the first and half of the second floors and I like my privacy.”

As he spoke, the man's voice reverberated throughout the house. It bounced off the walls surrounding Julia. The echo made it sound only that much louder than it all ready was. Her ear drums vibrated as they caught every word. She was dazzled by how deep his tone was. Quite a few times Julia had to remind herself she was supposed to be jotting down notes as he spoke. A glazed looked hovered in the light of her eyes as she traced the outline of his mouth with them.

It took Julia a moment to notice Keeran had finished speaking. As she came out of her reverie she peered down at her notepad and noticed it was almost empty. Get a grip, Jules! she scolded herself once again You have a job to do! This is no time to be daydreaming, you fool! Her brain rattled as she tried desperately to remember what Keeran had just told her. Despite how she tried, she still could add no more to her notes. She felt sick as she realized she was failing to do her job.

Quickly, she made a list of question to ask her interviewee. She would not leave empty handed, especially when it was her fault for not paying attention. "Can-Cou-Could you elaborate on this 'ghost' that continues to appear around these grounds, Mr. McCallistair?" she asked him with a serious, reporter face. She had severely hoped he had not seen how she had stumbled on the question. Never in her whole career had she felt such a mess. Her mind was unable to keep itself clear and focused. Why are you allowing yourself to be so distracted? Julia questioned herself. This man was going to be the beginning of a long line of paperwork and no more stories if she continued to bumble this way.

((If you like, I can post less for you. ))

Taking notice of the glazed look that the reporter had in her eyes as she watched him speak, Keeran raised an eyebrow slightly and then smirked. It wasn't often that he had a woman who was obviously not used to men stare at him with such a daydreamy look in her eyes. When she stuttered the question however, he lowered his head then stood up and walked over to the refridgerator where a couple dozen of bottles stood alongside some food and soft drinks. "Care for a soda? I just got up since I work nights." Picking up another bottle of blood, he popped off the cap and took a drink, sliding a bottle of soda over to her across the table. He then sat down again then frowned and looked at her. "I both live here and take care of the grounds during the night because my eyes are extremely light sensitive, it's called photosensitivity, where my pupils don't dilate when bright lights are flicked on or something. Maybe that's this ghost that's been seen around. I do stand out fairly easily in the dark." He held up his hand, which nearly glowed with paleness under the kitchen lights.

"By the way miss reporter, what happens to be your name?" Folding his fingers around the bottle in front of him on the table, he fixed her with a curious eye. Then added in a lighter tone, lips curling up into a smile "I was raised to be rather more of a hermit than someone who speaks alot or is curious about everything like you seem to be...though I must admit you are less of an annoyance than other reporters who have bothered me over the years. Maybe it's because you're so.....quiet....well, quieter than most people I've met. Please don't take that as an insult, I like the quiet and I don't know....you seem like a daydreamer somehow. How did you end up as a reporter in the first place?"

((Please don't write less!! I'm trying really darned hard but my brain is kinda bruised right now from me falling down the stairs so I'm not at my best >.<;;; ))

Julia caught the soda before it fell off the table top. Her eyes studied it for a moment. When she had decided that it was all right to drink, she popped the top and took a small sip. The soda was syrupy sweet and a nice change compared to the bitter coffee she got back at the office. Thoughtfully, she sipped her drink. Her mind was elsewhere, and she was not fighting it. It felt good to not think about work for once, and she was in no rush to get back to it.

She did not look up until Keeran asked her about herself. Once again, blood filled her cheeks. "I-I-I a-am Julia Viole," she stuttered. In her head she berated herself. Why can't you stop that? Stuttering! Honestly, what are you? A child? she thought to herself in embarrassment. She had never felt so stupid in her life. Since when did a man make her nervous?

His questions caught her off guard. Julia was so unsure what to say. "It was kinda of something I thought would be exciting. You know, running around, spying on people, seeing the world, that kinda stuff," she answered Keeran with disappointment pouring from her words. Her eyes shined with a distant extinguished hope that was still there, but had not shown itself since she was fresh out of high school. "It isn't what I thought it would be," she sighed,"I sit at a desk all day. I file papers and take calls from whack jobs with harebrained stories like the one about the ghost out here."

What are you doing, Jules? she wondered to herself. She was opening up to a man she did not know. For all she knew, he was a killer. Maybe he really was a ghost. She chuckled at the thought. A smile drew itself across her lips. For once since she had started this cursed job she was doubting her choices. There was an air about Keeran that just made Julia reflect upon herself. It made her question herself and evaluate what she has done so far. It was a shock when she realized she was almost in her prime and she had not accomplished anything.

Keeran watched the woman, who introduced herself in a stuttering manner as she had spoken since her introduction of her profession in the first place. Frowning slightly as he heard her explain her doubts over taking her job, Keeran shook his head slightly then sat back in his chair and regarded her blandly before speaking in a deliberately insulting tone of voice designed to get her angry.

"Honestly, I've heard this a million times from every other person who's ever bothered me before. If you don't like your job, then find something that DOES interest you! And considering your stuttering, its really no wonder you get all the desk jobs, especially if you can't speak properly so those you interview don't get pissed off and just leave. I'm sorry if I'm being blunt but complaints never got anyone anywhere or anything except more misery." Finishing off his bottle of blood, Keeran once again got to his feet and went to the sink to rinse out the bottle, watching a bit of pink run down the drain with narrowed eyes.

The Hunger, what everyone of his kind felt no matter what age they be after first Awakening as the Otherkind, wasn't appeased strangely enough even with two bottles of blood that he'd had in less than an hour! It was odd and he didn't like it at all. Making a face, he scowled at his hands gripped on the sink then blinked when he realized that his fingertips had dug into the sides of the porcelain and had pretty much crushed some of it into the shapes of his fingers. 'Oops.....'

Julia furrowed her brows to express her annoyance. She shifted her weight and placed her hand on her hip. It made her feel like her mother whenever she did that. That did not bug her in the least, though. Unlike most people she had known, Julia admired her mother. Her mother had raised Julia and her brother single-handed while still maintaining two jobs and staying active in her children's lives. Julia wished more women could be like her mother.

"If you didn't like the answer then don't ask. It isn't your place to tell me how to run my life,"she scolded Keeran for being as rude as he had been. Any infatuation she had for the man had quickly fled as she grew cross with him. "Besides, how would you know? I happen to be one of the best reporters ETRN has to offer. So, why don't you keep your mouth shut?" She had not been so angry with anyone in such a long time.

Keeran had just reminded her why she was single. All men were so insensitive to a women when they had a problem. However, if it was the other way around a man could talk of himself for hours. Keeran had no problem talking of himself. Julia crossed her arms in front of her chest. A frustrated grunt erupted from her throat. I hope this interview ends soon. I don't need this she thought to herself with a scowl.

Keeran listened to her reprimand then sat back in his chair and clapped his hands with a hint of a smile of his face. "Now that is something to see, a pretty woman getting angry. You must admit though that I do have a point. Complaining about your circumstances never got it fixed and if you're bored then find something interesting to occupy you. Come with me, I'll give you a tour of the house. I've been thinking about opening it up tot he public as a historical landmark actually, make it a tourist sight."

He hadn't really talked about himself much in the conversation either, preferring to keep his past and lineage and...well, everything, a secret though he had of course spoken plenty about the house, after all he had built most of it back in the day. Standing up, he walked around the table and offered his hand to her to help her stand. "Of course having a lovely lady angry is entertaining it can also be quite frustrating, so please accept my appologies. Although..." He raised an eyebrow then smiled a close-lipped one as he felt his canines elongate into fangs. "You've stopped stuttering now."

((Grarrr...brain dead...))

Julia's eyebrows furrowed at Keeran's display. He wanted to anger me? What's wrong with this guy? She had never felt so frustrated with a man before. He made absolutely no sense to her. For someone who lived by himself he had a pretty good knowledge of how to really get on someone's nerves. A sigh built itself up inside her breast, but came out as more of a huff.

Her hand gripped his as he helped her from her seat. Julia watched Keeran carefully, being absolutely certain he wasn't going to try anything. All those years as a reporter had made Miss Viole awfully suspicious. He did not seem to be up to something, but you never know. She was certainly open to a tour of the house. Perhaps she might see something she wasn't supposed to. That might make her visit her worth while.

His comment got to her. It bothered her and intrigued her how he had noticed her lack of stutter. She certainly hadn't noticed. "Does it bother you that you don't intimidate me?"she asked Keeran with a cocky smile. Since the stuttering had gone she felt a lot more confident. Although, there was still something about this guy that got to her. It made her cringe.

((...KEE-RAN! Not kareen!!:sweat: ))

Keeran smirked slightly at her question, thinking back on the women he'd been with, met and parted with and, yes, sometimes murdered or had killed. Many of them had been part of the Hunters Society, that nasty little selection of humanities 'finest' who thrived or got pleasure for tearing a vampire apart or were exstatic when they staked one out for the rising sun. Not that that role completely bothered him of course, true he had rescued those vampire youngsters who'd gotten into trouble many times, but never had he saved one that he had not made himself. Having quickly lost his preferences for women over men within the first hundred years or so, he'd fed from, slept with and changed a fair number of both over the centuries, though several had done the unthinkable and gone into the sunlight at noon over the years and had suffered greatly before their deaths. One woman stuck in his mind however, she had gone a much different way. "No, I can't say that it bothers me in the slightest."

His smirk turned to a slight smile as he led the reporter to the stairs that led to the second and third floor of the mansion. Turning on the lights there as well so she could see, he picked up a pair of sunglasses on a side stand by the lightswitch and slipped them on over his eyes so he wouldn't have to squint. Then he began to mount the steps, pausing a little ways up to look back at her with a raised eyebrow, indicating she should follow. "These stairs are a masterpiece really, hand carved by the owner of the mansion, my ancestor. Everything here except the newer accomodations like the fridge and stove and such, were built by Keeran McCallistair the first, I added in the electronics afterwards of course." Getting to the top of the second staircase after bypassing the second floor, Keeran gestured at the six doors, three on each side that lined the single hallway. "Pick a door, none of them are locked. I've had them all furnished in the late 1600's style on this floor, the second door on the right being a nursery for a family with the other doors being for children and adolescents. The first door here is my study area." He shrugged slightly and stepped forwards to open the doors, each one in turn. None of the windows up here were covered, so sunlight spilled into the rooms, each in light shades of color. The nursery was a soft golden yellow, a warm, gentle color meant to relax and invigorate. Inside it was an old fashioned cradle, with several shelves filled with hand sewn toys and baby items like rattles and other things. The rooms were cleaned regularly by a maidservice so Keeran hadn't been inside any of the rooms above for years. Not since his last wife died at least....Remembering Mira made his heart, or what was left of it, clench in pain but he shook it off and opened the door to his study. It was darker, in dark reds. Mahogany bookshelves lined the walls, each one stuff full of books in various languages and from different timeframes. Near the window, whose curtains were closed though a thin streak of sunshine peeked through, sat a large mahogany desk with papers scattered next to a laptop computer that was still on and showing a screen saver of a midnight garden full of white flowers. There was a fireplace in the room as well, though it was small, and over it sat a portrait of a rather pretty brown haired woman with dark eyes and dressed in an old victorian styled dress, her slim, pale hands clasped in front of her modestly while a man who had the exact same appearance as Keeran stood beside her wearing a tophat and a suit of old fashioned clothing. There was also a young child, brown haired and dark eyed as well, who was standing in front of the two adults with a grin on his young face. The portrait was very well done, with the figures apparently standing in the garden that was the same as the picture of his screensaver though it was in the morning light.

The other four rooms were two for girls and two for boys, with the boys' done up in greens and blues while the girls had pinks and whites. "Unfortunately, Keeran the first never had more than one child, his wife dying from complications at birth of their son, Eric McCallistair. The boy only lived to the age of ten before he caught pneumonia and died. On the other hand, Keeran lived to the ripe old age of sixty before he died of a heart attack one night." Keeran shook his head then added. "It was a rough life back then I suppose, though everyone would argue with you if any were alive today. It was all they knew, so they wouldn't know any better." Visibly shaking himself, he turned a smile on her then shrugged. "I've always been interested in history. Need me to repeat anything for you??"

((Sorry. I can't believe I didn't catch that. I fixed all of them. Won't happen again.))

Julia watched as Keeran opened each door systematically. Every room was brilliantly decorated. None of them looked as if they had been used or even entered in years. They were all so clean and well kept. Her eyes scanned each room, taking in as much detail as she could before her escort moved on to the next room. The reporter had a photographic memory, and it came in handy when her interviewee did not seem too enthusiastic about showing off their home or whatever she was investigating. Not one detail escaped her gaze in just the few moments she was allotted to look.

Juia made a mental note that Keeran did not enter any of these rooms. He seemed awfully distant from everything on display. That was until they came to the room with the portrait. The man in the painting bore a striking resemblance to the man in front of Julia. There was something about the man in the painting that made him seem more than just an ancient relative to Keeran. It was almost as if they were the same person. That's ridiculous! she thought to herself That painting is far too old. Unless he really is a ghost. She chuckled a bit to herself at the thought.

Her head shook at his question. "No, I think I have everything I need about the house," she said. Julia put her notepad away and tucked the pen back behind her ear. Then she returned her focus to Keeran. "Is there any more information you might give me? To help my article?" she asked him. Her eyes gazed at him with hope. She hoped he caught that this was a subtle hint of suggestion that he spoke more of himself. The reporter was so interested in learning about this man. He was just so mysterious. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach that he was not being entirely honest with her.