Log:Tour of Gutzu Domus

2020/08/01 Magda Grimm 1

601 was built during the revitalization of Golden Sands as an updated version of a Roman home. Through several long-term renters, it was kept updated to the top standards of current technology, until in 2080 the owner took possession. The exterior shops and fountain of the three-story edifice are there as a passive public service, while the iron-reinforced heavy wooden doors are an archaic accent that helps complete the building's facade.

Inside, the ground floor follows the general Roman design; a vestibule between the heavy exterior doors and the ligther inner doors is lined with hooks and shelves at both chest and ankle height, an invitation to divest yourself of anything you're carrying that you might not wish to be. Past the inner doors, the atrium is clearly the core of the house, open all the way up to the open-to-the-sky compluvium, around which is a curtain of clear beads to draw rainwater to a central point that then cascades down in a single fall into the atrium's knee-deep pool, or impluvium. Each level's walkway balcony circles the atrium, enabling people to call between floors. A spiral staircase on one side leads up through all four floors and to the roof patio.

The first floor is clearly quite public, a column-spaced area for dining, conversation, or whatever the current event requires. Beyond, the tablinium holds roll-top desks for the business of the house; beyond, also accessed by hallways to either side, is the two-story collonaded peristylium and the pleasant garden it surrounds. A pair of exedra seating areas allow for pleasant conversation in the fresh air, while numerous other doors lead to the kitchen, living quarters for the four house employees, a garage, and guest rooms.

Guest rooms also take up most of the second level, while the third level is given over entirely to a library, along with a small media area which comes complete with kitchenette and wet bar.

The fourth floor is private.

Magda gestures to unlock the iron-bound front doors to the house; another gesture swings them wide to let the two women in. "Feel free to leave anything you don't need on a hook," she says, gesturing to the coat-hangars and shelves in the entry hall, then opens the inner doors to the main portion of the house and lets you follow when ready.

The facade of 601 Golden Sands Road bears (along both Golden Sands Rd. and 6th St.) several inset 'shops' -- tabernae -- that provide shelter, a counter, and a bit of storage for the 'first come, first use' pop-up stores selling almost anything. As long as their wares are legal and the proprietors clear out by 10 PM, people are allowed to use the seven tabernae as a public service.

Two floors of wide hallways surround the house's garden, with columns between open-air hallway and the rooms that lead out to them. While in the winter this can be chilly for the inhabitants, the width of the halls keep you out of the rain, and the rest of the house is only a few steps away. Stone seats can be found every three columns, for sitting and conversing while enjoying the garden.

Grimm looks over the exterior shops as they head for the front doors. She sets her shopping bag on a shelf as she looks to the atrium. "This is a house...? It looked like a business from outside," she says in awe.

On the ground floor, two very wide semi-circular benches take up space that might otherwise be used for rooms; these are what are called exedra. Not only a place to rest but a place for moderately-sized groups of people to converse and debate, the two stretch along the back of the peristylium, flanking the entrance to the garage and storage areas.

Magda smiles wryly. "I wanted the style and, well, it comes with those spaces. I'm told that those made the planning commission much more comfortable with a good third of a block being a private residence."

"A third!?" Grimm exclaims in shock, then quickly covers her mouth. It's too late to stop the exclamation, though.

"Well," admits Magda, "a sixth if you don't count the alley; I suppose I subconsciously do. Anyhow, this is the main room," she says of the atrium, which includes the full eigtheen- or twenty-meter central space into which all the floors open; the griund floor is a good four or five meters worth of that space. She then leads you over to the right and indicates a double door on the far side of a good-sized and heavy-looking solid wood table. "The kitchen's through there," she says, but brings you through a short hall and another door, into the back garden.

Grimm follows along as she stares up at the atrium and the open-to-the-sky compulvium. She peeks in the direction of the kitchen, then follows along, surprised to see a garden.

Magda doesn't much more than step out into the collonaed peristylium -- 'peristyle', or just walkway, if you want to be modern -- but lets Gabrielle look at what is a good half of the ground area of the house. "Entrance to the garage back there," she gestures, then takes you into the kitchen, where a woman and a man are sitting along a counter, watching a second man working food magic in the 'industrial'-scale kitchen.

"You have chefs...?" Gabrielle asks quietly in amazement as she follows along. . o O (So this is how the 1% live.)

"Bonjour!" says Magda, which is what the chef uses to reply; it becomes quickly evident in the ensuing conversation -- mostly in English, but some in French -- that he is indeed a 'classic' French chef. One of the bags she's carrying is for him, and he looks pleased that she's found some whatever-it-is Chinese herb or spice he asked her to find in the market. Laughing at the other woman's question, she replies, "Leon, Danae, Boston, this is Gabrielle, one of the city's heros. Gabrielle, this is Leon -- yes, he's a chef, and French, so technically he's a French chef. In an emergency he's also very good with a scalpel. Danae is my keeper, meaning she keeps the house and my social schedule -- the former clean and paid, and both of them organized. Boston is my gardener and handyman -- general repairs, whether vehicular, plumbing, mechanical, electrical, or in a pinch computational. Everyone, Gabrielle and anyone she brings with her are 6-Cs." As the cook nods and lifts a spoon to acknowledge the information, Magda asides to Gabrielle, "That means if you show up here injured, they're to do what needs to be done to help."

"Ah. Hi. Meta. Not quite a hero. I don't wear spandex," Gabrielle grins in amusement. "Latex, maybe. But not spandex," adds the goth rocker. She nods at each introduction. "6-Cs? Oh," she realizes at the explanation. "Good to know in an emergency. Though I...don't know exactly how much a chef can handle," she supposes, trying to be polite. And then, her eyes glance to Boston and she can't help herself. "So where are you from, Boston?"

"Philadelphia," says the black handyman with a wide grin and a definitely-not-Bostonian accent. "And don't worry about Leon, he was a Foreign Legion corpsman --"

"Medic!!" interrupts Leon as he beats whatever's in the pot.

"-- before he became a chef, before he retired as a chef," concludes Boston without missing a beat at the Frenchman's interruption. "I was one of Uncle Sam's misguided children."

"A Marine," clarifies Danae with a smile at the two men, then at Gabrielle. "Hm. You're ... a mystic of some sort, aren't you."

"Danae is slightly psychic," asides Magda, passing another of the bags over to the woman, who has started to reach out even before Magda got it in-hand.

Grimm grins back at Boston's answer, then looks between the two bickering. "Ex-military. Awesome," she nods. She looks to Danae and expects the Navy or Air Force. Psychic wasn't what she was expecting. "Sort of. The supernatural is my forte, but I'm not a mage or a wizard. I'm...something else. I'm actually taking occult studies for my double major. And I have some talents and sway over the mind, but I'm not clairvoyant. Maybe a little...omniscient on my surroundings in the present."

"Ooo! Ooo!!" Boston seems excited, putting up his hand, but both Danae and Leon reach out to drag his arm back down. "Ignore him," Danae says as Boston stops trying and Leon goes back to his recipe. "He loves to have people try and guess what he's thinking."

"It is always, 'you stink,'" confides Leon, causing Boston to begin laughing.

"All right, you three," says Magda. "Danae?"

"New York Metropolitan Opera," she says, "Philadelphia Boy's Choir, and a request for funding from some man in Montana. I've requested he send us a prospectus."

Magda nods, then smiles and gestures to Grimm. "C'mon, let me show you the library," she says to the other, heading back into the atrium and towards the stairs to, apparently, walk up.

Grimm flashes a smile at Boston. "Maybe now's a good time to tell you I can make people live their worst nightmare in perpetuity," she says in such deceivingly sweet tones before they walk off to the library.

As the kitchen doors close behind you, you can hear Danae say smugly, "Told you."

The library is on the third floor (or fourth, if you consider the height of the first floor to be two, or maybe two and a half); Magda tells you as the two of you ascend that the second floor is mainly guest rooms, with storage being above the garage and the staff's rooms being above the kitchen. Then it's the third floor, and she opens up the closest door which leads to the library right near the media center.

Grimm nods as they walks along and she explains the second floor. "And before you worry, no, I've never actually trapped someone in a living nightmare forever," she offers up since they're out of earshot. "Just short term ones," she adds with a grin.

"Hmm!" says Magda, in a laugh of sorts. "I suppose if that's what it took, I would too," she agrees. Standing in the library's double-door opening, she looks around for a moment, then says, "Be right back, I have to shelve this." One bag apparently has a book in it, and she wanders off into the stacks.

Grimm nods as Magda walks off. She herself slowly strolls along amongst all the books and breathes it in. The smell of paper is something comforting to her. Sure, so many tomes are available in digital format now, but she prefers good old paper books. She glances over the spines to see what sort of subject matter Magda collects, but she can take a guess.

Closest to the entrance are fiction in one direction (which includes mysteries and classics of literature) and science fiction and fantasy in the other; if/when Magda wants to just grab something to entertain herself with, these are closest. Undoubtedly the more serious topics are 'back in the stacks', but it might be noted that a number of the books you handle are signed by the authors, very old editions, or delightful-to-handle leather-bound copies.

Grimm is most drawn by the leather-bound copies and the smell of old paper. That's the very best. She may not look it on the outside, by appearance or by her nightlife activities, but Gabrielle's actually quite bookish. She just can't understand the very dry, hard sciences so much. Her failings in school have to do with her life being split between school, Starguard, interdimensional issues, and arcane adversaries.

Emerging from the stacks one bag down, Magda comes directly to you, as if she knew where you were the entire time. "I do love the feel of an actual book," she agrees as she sees you handling the one. "Anything in particular you're interested in?"

"I agree. The feel and the smell. I just like curling up with a book of lore or stories," Gabrielle admits, almost shyly, as if it were a secret that would ruin her reputation if it got out. "I prefer fiction for fun. Some fantasy, some scifi. Nonfiction in relation to the arcane and the occult. I friend suggested I get into pulp novels, since I like old noir films. Hmm. Fables. Mythology." A pause in thought. "Fairy tales." She halts after fairy tales and looks to Magda with a shrug. "What? My family has a history with those."

Magda couldn't help the curious look. "Your family?" she wonders -- she has not, in fact, ever caught Gabrielle's last name. "Hmm; I have some of the fiction old noir was based on -- well, the hardboiled detective stuff, Dashiel Hammett, Raymond Chandler, and the like." She nods towards the non-sci-fi/fantasy side. "You might," she adds slowly, "find psychology to be of use, if you're ever interested."

"Yeah. Most people just address me by my last name. It kind of works for me anyway based on my powers being so dark and gloomy. It's Grimm," Gabrielle explains absently as she scans more book spines. "Hardboiled detective stuff?" she smiles, looking to Magda. That makes her think of Detective Carpenter. "I'm curious to see those. And, uh. I actually have taken a few basic psych courses at school. Mostly for criminal psych, but I took the basics. I'm not an expert, though. I'm sure there'd be more books that'd be helpful on expanding on that."

Magda nods, smiling at the name, but walking further down the stacks to where the various 'hardboiled detective' fiction sits. Classic paperbacks and other 'pulp' books from the 1920's and '30s sit side-by-side with an assortment from the 1980's and forward. "Not all of this," she concedes, "is strictly hard-jawed ruthless emotionless private eye stuff. This set," she indicates one, "are supposedly from diaries of Sherlock Holmes' wife, while those," another several "are about a bookseller-detective. As for the other ..." She rounds the end of the shelving unit, and gestures for you to follow her down another couple, where she moves back in. "These," she states, indicating the two full rows' mostly full of books, "are psychology. I do suggest you familiarize yourself with basic psych; criminal psychology is like high-energy physics, it's better if you have a baseline in the general stuff before you go galloping off into the world of strangeness." She glances sideways at you. "Though 'strangeness' is probably different for you. If you like," she adds, "I can let you take some home, and tell Danae you're to be allowed to check them in and out -- but /do/ remember to check them in and out, the house computer doesn't like it if it can't find all the volumes on the premises."

Grimm seems most interested in the books from the 1920's and 1930's. "Holmes' wife? Interesting," she smiles. It instead makes her think of Radical and his foretold marriage to Moriarty's granddaugther. That's what happens when you're a time traveler, one supposes.

"I took Intro to psych already. But I guess something more intermediate may be useful," Gabrielle agrees.

She looks to Magda, brows raised at the mention of her view of strangeness. "Strangeness is where I live. It almost seems normal to me now. Maybe I'm just really good at compartmentalizing," she shrugs.

Offering a smile, she says, "Wow. I'd appreciate that. I'll make sure to follow the rules."

Magda gives a soft laugh. "Intro to Psych," she muses. "Oh dear." She regards the books, then takes a few steps down to tap her finger on their spines, one after the next. "Where did you -- ah, here. Bertrand's 'Mind At The Beginning'. A basic text, but a bit better than what a standard 'intro' course will give you." She pulls it from the shelf, turning to hand it to you, but keeps a hold of it for a moment. "I can assemble a course of study for you, if you like," she says to the mystic heroine who deals with 'strangeness' on a daily basis, "but two things. First, you need to actually want to do the work; dabbling will actually be worse than staying out of it. Second, you'd have to understand that I am /not/ a certifying authority. If you want that, you'll have to go through the courses at a university just like everyone else."

Grimm reaches out to take the book, but she doesn't pull while Magda still holds it. "I'm not trying to become anyone's therapist. Just to understand things a bit better," she offers to reassure. "I appreciate the offer of the course, but...the way my life has been going, I don't think I'll have time to fit it in. I barely have time to do things like that movie get together. And this is my summer break. I had to even drop out of class last quarter because things were...unmanageable."

Magda releases the book, and waves off the idea of a course that Grimm would have to 'fit in'. "I don't mean a lecture series," she says as she leads you. "A proper course of study is one where someone who knows the subject -- in this case, psychology and myself -- selects books for the student, you, to read and work with in order to expand their knowledge. Not the more modern collegiate 'course'. You get home, you read a section, you think about it, you go to bed. Maybe you finish a book in a week; maybe in a month; maybe in a year. What matters is that you have a structure, that you know what to pick up next when you're done with what you have, and that by the end of the structure, you know much more than what you knew going into it."

"Huh. I guess that sounds good," Gabrielle smiles as she holds into the book and walks along. "Like it'd fit into my schedule."

"That's the plan, anyhow," agrees Magda, heading out the nearest door, which is different than the one through which the two entered. "I've already told the book to check itself out, but as I said, if you come by and I'm not home, Danae can help you out."

Grimm nods. "Yeah, sure, I...wait. You told the book to check itself out?" she asks in surprise.

Magda laughs softly, a blue glow flickering about her hand for a moment, her other packages floating upwards in a similar cyan 'orb' to deposit themselves on a side-table on the fourth floor above them. "Mistress of Magnetism," she says. "The books each have an active-on-demand radio-frequency identification chip. A few times a day, the house computer queries them via transmitters throughout the house, and of course the books all answer back. Danae has a keycard that tells the chip to send a signal to the computer to check it out, but has to follow up with who's checking it out; I can tell the chips to do all that directly."

Grimm snorts. "Mistress of Magnetism, meet Mistress of Tenebration. Or Mystery. Murkiness, that's another," she chuckles. "I've heard a slew of titles."

The corners of Magda's eyes crinkle as she smiles. "Oh, yes. They were particularly lively in the nineteen-seventies. I don't put much stock in them," she says as she returns to the stairs. "My private area is the fourth floor," she adds, "and roof is a mix between a patio and a sun-deck. If you come over and it's an emergency, though," she adds, "don't hesitate to come in through the garden. Just -- don't be surprised if you hear a slide chamber a round at the same time you hear Leon say ''Allo, 'oo ees eet?'" The faux-French accent is spot-on for the taunter in the old Monty Python film.

Grimm chuckles at the warning of Leon. "I imagine just materializing inside the atrium would also be bad form," she guesses with a grin.

"Oh, yes," Magda agrees fervently. "Or the kitchen. Those are definitely 'shoot first, question the corpse' areas for all four of them. Grassy area of the garden is the landing pad of choice."

Grimm nods. "Noted," she answers as she commits that to memory.

Magda smiles, taking any other books that Grimm picked out to borrow and performing the same radiopathic ritual with its chip. "There we go. Anyhow. I have a bit more work to do tonight, unfortunately."

Grimm smiles and accepts the books to add to her stack. "I'll let you get back to work, then. Thanks a lot for letting me boring these. I'll be sure to return them when I'm done."

Magda beams. "My pleasure. Books are meant to be read, not left on a shelf to collect dust." Not that her books are dusty, but.

Grimm hugs the books to her chest with one arm, and gives her a wave. "Have a good evening," she offers, and then vanishes as darkness swallows her and shrinks down to a pinpoint at her center before vanishing. The darkness is accompanied with a susurrus of disembodied, distant voices. Comprehension of what is being said is just out of reach, but it leaves Magda with an eerie impression that they were either...tempting her with something, or warning of some impending doom. Perhaps forbidden secrets that should stay hidden? But nothing can truly be made out in the chorus of whispers which fade as Gabrielle fully disappears.