TheMaster99

Château de La Lune

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Location: Château de La Lune: Rec Room
Skills: N/A

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Almost immediately after Elenore announced the end of dinner, Constance followed through on inviting him for drinks; Tony was more than happy to agree. He led her over to the rec room, making small talk along the way. As he entered the room, he saw that a few La Lunes had already made their way over… with a suppressed sigh, he noticed that Lawrence was one of them. Clearly, his medical advice had been promptly disregarded. Whatever, not his problem - he already did his part.

After receiving his scotch, Tony thanked Leon and went off to find Constance. It didn't take long to find her; it seems she had secured them a secluded corner table. That suited him well: a chance to have some alone time with her, without anyone overhearing them.

”I'm glad we came straight here, because this table definitely wouldn't have lasted long,” Tony commented as he sat down across from Constance.

”Oh, I’m sure it would have been snatched up in an instance by someone else. I’m glad I could grab it for us.” Constance offered him a smile and raised her glass.

Tony returned the gesture with a smile, clinking their glasses before taking a sip of his scotch. So far over the course of the night he'd tried to avoid the subject, but finally he was speaking in private - and he'd had a few drinks at this point - so he asked, ”So… I'm not the only one noticing how weird all of this has been so far, right?”

Constance’s smile faltered for a moment as he asked that, before she lowered her glass and took a sip of her champagne. She seemed to be thinking for a moment, as if calculating before responding. ”I have noticed a few oddities here and there, yes. Like the nominees… not a one of us are from the same field, unless you count entertainment as a broad field. But then, it still doesn’t quite add up, does it?”

”Not quite,” Tony agreed. ”After all, I'm certainly not an entertainer. And there's plenty of other strange things happening… but let's not dwell on it. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't imagining things,” he continued, taking another sip of scotch. ”How did you get into dancing?” he asked, changing the subject to more pleasant topics.

”Ah, both my parents were dancers, both ballet. It was only natural I followed in their pointe shoes, as it seems. Especially since I lost my father at a young age.” She sighed softly at that before looking back at Tony. ”And you, how did you get into your medical field?”

Tony’s small smile at the shoes comment faded with the following sentence. ”I'm sorry to hear that,” he consoled. ”I'm sure he'd be happy to see you following in their footsteps, though. As for me.. I'd love to say it was an overwhelming desire to help people and save lives, but honestly, it's much less selfless than that. My parents struggled to make ends meet, and my childhood wasn't much to write home about. I wanted a better life for myself, and for my kids at some point down the road. Surgery was interesting to me, and would be a good opportunity to build a better life, so I did everything I could to make it into a good school.” Tony took another sip of scotch, reflecting for a moment. ”I am glad that my work allows me to help others, but it's more of an added bonus, really,” he finished.

”Thank you.” Constance was use to condolences, and listened as Tony spoke. She gently rested her head on her hand as she did so, and nodded as he spoke. ”There is nothing wrong in wanting a better life for yourself. Or even your children. It seems you have done that for yourself, so, cheers.” She held up her glass again and offered him another smile.

Tony smiled in return. ”Cheers,” he echoed as he raised his own glass again, before taking another sip. Looking down, he was slightly surprised to see he'd already put a considerable dent in his drink. Time flies and all that, he supposed. ”So what shows have you performed in? Anything I might recognize? I must admit I don't know too much about ballet,”

”Oh, I’ve performed in quite a few shows, but of those that you might recognize, I’ve done Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, and The Nutcracker. I’ve been dancing almost as long as I could walk. Though I’ve yet to achieve a prima role yet. That’s my next goal.” Constance sighed softly as she took another sip of her champagne.

”I'm sure you'll get there soon,” Tony replied. ”I'd say that winning the award might help, if not for the fact that unfortunately I intend to be the winner,” he added with an apologetic smile.

”Awwww, well I hope you won’t be too disappointed when I turn out to be the winner then.” Constance just smiled again, clearly not wanting to give up the idea of the award too easily.

Tony smiled, swirling his drink for a moment before deciding fuck it and downing the remainder in one shot. ”Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see which one of us is right, then,” he said with a slight chuckle.

Tony had been somewhat faking the appearance of being at ease that he hoped he had given at dinner, but there was nothing fake about it now. Maybe it was Constance, maybe it was the alcohol.. maybe it was both. Either way, this was nice; a good distraction from the nightmare he found on his desk earlier. Hopefully, this distraction was far from over.

Château de La Lune

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Location: Château de La Lune: Dining Room
Skills: N/A

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As the cheese platters were cleared to make room for dessert, Tony was curious what the chef had prepared to finish what had been an excellent dinner. When he saw that it would be tiramisu, he became… apprehensive. It wasn’t that he thought it would be terrible - the chef (Gordon, was it?) had already proven himself to be very talented. But… this was an Italian dish. Over the years, Tony has eaten at many of the greatest Italian restaurants in New York City, Miami, and elsewhere across the globe. He’s had countless amazing variations of tiramisu. Hell, some of them have cost more than many people might pay for an entire dinner. So his expectations were very high, and would a Frenchman really be up to the task?

Hesitantly, he took a bite. Then, smiling, he quickly had a second. No, this wasn’t the best he’s had, but by God was it close. Better than I would’ve expected from a Frenchman, he thought. He was so distracted by these thoughts about the tiramisu that at first, he didn’t realize that someone was talking to him.

Looking up, he realized it was the woman he’d previously noticed interrogating half the table. Apparently, she’d decided it was his turn.

Tony didn’t trust her.

Something about the way she was interrogating everyone like this dinner was a murder mystery just didn’t add up. He hadn’t thought that any nominees could be involved in his blackmail, but was that really true? Certainly no nominee could be the one to place the envelope on his desk, but was it impossible that none of them were in on it? No… it’s not, he decided.

So, carefully keeping his expression as normal as he could, he faced her question. What did he think? Well, frankly this dinner had been the most awkward event he’d been to since… that night. But even if he trusted her, courtesy would forbid him from saying that - and he didn’t trust her. So instead, he politely commented on how good the food was then turned the question back on her. But if he expected to read anything from her reply, he was left disappointed. As a surgeon he understood the human body better than most, but in Millicent he saw nothing that might give her thoughts or feelings away. Maybe, just maybe, he noticed the slightest narrowing of her eyes, but even of that he couldn’t be sure. At this point, there were two things Tony was sure of. One: she was very good at this. Two: if he couldn’t be even better, he might be fucked. Even if she didn’t already know them, Tony felt like she could eventually figure out his deepest, darkest secrets if she wanted to… and that wasn’t acceptable.

With this in mind, he thought carefully about his answer to her follow-up question before responding. Deciding that the best lies always had an element of truth to them, he gave an answer that technically was a truthful reflection of his thoughts, without actually saying anything meaningful. Or at least, so he hoped. In truth, he was starting to think there was nothing he wanted more than to forget this trip ever happened. But until it was over, that was a luxury he could not afford. Until then, Tony decided he would need to watch Millicent closely. It couldn’t be a coincidence that someone that seemed remarkably talented at reading people could be in the same group of nominees as him.

Looking at his glass of wine, the logical part of his mind screamed that he should probably stop drinking. A glass of scotch before dinner, several glasses of wine - four? - during dinner, and the expectation of more drinks later in the night… this seemed like a very dangerous place to risk getting drunk. And yet…

Fuck it. I didn’t sign up for this shit, Tony thought.

And so he drank.

Château de La Lune

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Location: Château de La Lune: Dining Room
Skills: N/A

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As the various conversations around the table began to dwindle, the tension in the room became palpable. In some ways, it made sense. It was pretty clear to Tony that this dinner hadn't exactly gone according to plan, and everyone probably knew it - Lawrence making an ass of himself, a nominee punching him, that same nominee feeling ill and needing to leave early, and so on. Then there was the fact that it felt like half of the nominees were completely out of their element at a formal dinner, behaving in ways he'd never seen at similar events in the past - in ways that would probably have them not get invited to future occasions, if not actually kicked out altogether. Not to mention the fact that the seating chart was made laughably awkward by the massive gaps now present across the table, making it exceptionally difficult for many of them to make conversation.

Yet in other ways, the tension was becoming another confusing piece of the puzzle that this trip had turned into. Between the rudeness of some family members and the lack of conversation from others, it kind of seemed like most of them didn't really even want to be here, playing host to a bunch of strangers they can barely relate to. Based on conversations overheard, it sounded like at least a couple of them don't even stay here for most of the year. So if all these people didn't want to be here, why were they? Additionally, although in some ways it made sense that some of the nominees were acting weird - they clearly weren't the types to attend this sort of thing normally - some of the behavior just didn't make sense. One of the women at the other end of the table seemed particularly interrogative. Why did it seem like everyone was focused on questioning the La Lunes about the awards, and not just making friendly small talk? Tony had a good reason for doing it, of course - someone here, most likely Elenore, was trying to blackmail him with something that could easily be the end of far more than just his award-winning prospects. But why was everyone else acting strangely?

Something wasn't adding up, that's for sure. Tony just didn't know what part of the equation he was missing. There was one equation he did fully understand though: cheese + wine = delicious. He'd always appreciated the simple truth that was good food; sure, you could make a meal as complicated as possible if you want, but you could also reduce a meal to its simplest form and a good pairing would still taste great. And this cheese (he assembled another combination from the cheese board) with this wine (he took another sip) was a great pairing. If only everything else could be so simple.

Château de La Lune

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Location: Château de La Lune: Dining Room
Skills: N/A

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Tony continued enjoying his steak, listening to the conversations he could hear around him. He couldn’t hear the other end of the table super well with all the other conversations happening, but it sounded like the nominees over there had eked out a few more details about the awards. Apparently people could be nominated either by the community - so, anyone? - or by members of the family. Elenore, as the matriarch, seemed to be the sole decision maker regarding who makes the shortlist. As far he was concerned, this only reinforced his previous assumption that she must be aware of the folder that was left on his desk; if she’d spent an appreciable amount of time curating the shortlist of nominees, surely no one would dare risk her wrath if they were caught meddling with a nominee. This still leaves many unanswered questions, though. Is it a coincidence that she put him on the shortlist and they found that information about him, or could it be that he was shortlisted because of it? I am the most qualified nominee, as far as I can tell, but logically it seems unlikely to be a total coincidence, he thought.

Now seemed as good a time as any to try to fish for more clues, but it would have to be done carefully. Tony took a sip of wine then turned his attention to Elenore. ”So, Mrs. La Lune, these awards have been running for many years now. Surely you must have a favorite out of all the previous winners? Perhaps the most successful, or the most charming, or maybe the most unique?” he asked, trying to ease her into some conversation.

Elenore smiled. It was the smile of someone reminiscing. “There was a young girl who was studying to become a librarian. She was quite skilled at repair of ancient manuscripts. She wrote me a letter a couple of years later telling me she had gotten her dream job at the Library of Congress. She had this light in her eyes when talking about books that was impossible to forget.”

Tony smiled politely in return. So her favorite was one who sounds highly qualified, which boded well for him. Although a small part of his mind wondered if he should be trusting anything she says at face value. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he was struggling to think of clever enough ways to ask them without making it obvious what he’s fishing for. ”She does sound quite remarkable. I’m sure there must have been some misses over the years as well? A nominee that didn’t quite live up to expectations, or turned out to be not exactly who you thought they were?” There, that should do it.

“We have had a few that post nomination, post winning, have failed to live up to expectation. This award isn't supposed to stop people from doing what they love. It is meant to give them breathing room to do it. To excel at it. Hire people that they need to improve or take care of things. Whatever the money can do to help them become better at their chosen career. So many have used the money to be lazy, they stopped having drive. They stopped trying to improve.” She clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Hopefully, this year's winner proves they know what to do with the windfall.”

Tony nodded, taking another sip of wine. ”That is some excellent advice, I’m sure we would all do well to remember it,” he replied. In the back of his mind, though, he was cursing. Damn it, that was too indirect.. she went in the total opposite direction from what I wanted. But I couldn’t be any more direct without giving away what I was looking for. I’m not going to get answers by asking… at least, not from her.

He turned his attention to the other nearby family members, participating in whatever small talk came his way. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Constance looking at him, slightly raising her glass to him. He returned the small salute in kind, with a subtle smile. At least there would be something to look forward to tonight.

Château de La Lune

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Location: Château de La Lune: Dining Room
Skills: N/A

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As Tony walked back towards his seat, he couldn’t help but hear a few whispered words of… Spanish? Maybe? “Spanish. Shit.” … “I… you…” Shaking his head at how incomprehensible the overheard conversation was, Tony quietly returned to his seat amidst various conversations without any further comments, except one: Beatrice leaning across the table to thank him for taking care of Lawrence, despite his behavior. “It’s no trouble,” Tony answered, smiling slightly. Looking around, he noticed that the table was noticeably split in half by the gap made by the absences of Agatha and Lawrence. “I didn’t expect my skills to be needed on this trip, but I’m more than happy to be of help. Hopefully he has the sense to regret his choices when he’s sober.”

Thankfully, it wasn’t long after Tony returned to his seat that the waitstaff came around to collect what was left of the salads, and delivered the main courses and their accompanying wines. The steak looked absolutely superb, cooked to perfection; and although he was no wine expert, he knew enough to know that you’re supposed to pair a red wine with a steak, and he had no doubt that it would be an incredible pairing. Taking a bite and a sip confirmed that his assumption was correct. ”My compliments to the chef,” he heard himself say to no one in particular.

“Oh Gordon is a wizard in the kitchen,” Beatrice informs Tony. “I'll make sure he gets your compliment.”

”I do have to say, everything has been incredible.”

Tony looked up as each of the women sitting across from him spoke in turn; first the middle-aged La Lune, then the young nominee that had steamed her clothes. ”Incredible is definitely the right word for it,” he agreed. ”I don’t believe we’ve properly introduced ourselves yet. I’m Tony, and you are..?”

”Oh, I’m Constance, Constance Monroe, a pleasure to meet you Tony. I do apologize for not being able to shake your hand, but a little hard from across the table.” She chuckled softly at that point.

Tony smiled politely in return. Her name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. ”It would indeed, but I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time for that later,” he replied. Perhaps time for more than just handshakes too, he thought… She’s young, fit, good looking, and seemingly the only other nominee with even the slightest idea of how to act in polite company - he was trying his best to ignore the absurd behavior of the nominees on the other end of the table - so why not? Plus maybe at some point he’ll remember why her name sounds familiar. Damn it, he realized, another fucking mystery to figure out… this is getting ridiculous.

For the moment, Tony put the mysteries aside and focused on eating his steak. This, at least, was something straightforward. An excellent cut and perfectly cooked, full of flavor on its own; the only mystery was why anyone would think such a steak needs sauce. Wait… that’s another mystery. Damn it.

Château de La Lune

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Location: Château de La Lune: Foyer -> Dining Room -> Kitchen
Skills: N/A

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Gradually, the foyer was filled as one person after another arrived to wait for the start of dinner; apparently, most of the La Lunes had to wait to be admitted just like the nominees.Tony was pleased to see that, as far as he was concerned, he was the best dressed of the nominees. To be fair to them, most of the nominees were well dressed, but he very much doubted that all of their outfits combined cost as much as his suit and to him, the difference in quality showed. Furthermore, it looked like only one other nominee - a woman wearing a blouse, whom Tony thought looked great - had bothered to get the wrinkles out of their clothes. The worst was one of the men, who looked like he was dressed for the beach, not a formal dinner.

At that moment, there was a disturbance at the base of the stairs. Looking over, Tony sighed and rolled his eyes as he watched a drag queen drop dramatically onto the floor. Who the hell nominated these people? A few moments later, the clock struck five and right on cue, the dining room door opened and the butler was there, waving everyone in. Tony was one of the first people inside - the sooner he got away from the ridiculousness happening in the foyer, the better. Starting to walk down the right side of the table, he was pleased to find his name on the second seat; he was practically at the head of the table, which could only be a good sign that he was one of the favorites to win the award, as he rightly should be.

As everyone was getting seated, Leon came around, pouring a white wine into one of Tony’s glasses. Taking a sip, he decided that although he wasn’t much of a wine drinker, it was a pretty good wine. Looking up, he noticed that the good looking woman he’d noticed earlier was also at the head of the table, immediately to Elenore’s left. None of the others are anywhere near us, we must be the two leading contenders, he thought. He couldn’t remember what her name or profession was - Tony hadn’t paid much attention to anyone else’s information on the notice board, once he’d realized they weren’t doctors. He’d need to keep an eye on her… there were way too many things that needed careful attention for what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation.

Once everyone was seated, Elenore gave a short speech that acknowledged the secrecy of everything about the award, but didn’t really reveal anything new either. The one useful bit of information was that the night would be about getting to know the nominees, who they really were. So the winner hasn’t been decided yet, then, Tony thought; or at least, that’s what they want us to think. He didn’t see how anyone else stood a chance, but nevertheless he decided that he would have to give his hosts the best lasting impression he could, to ensure he wouldn’t lose the prize that should obviously be his.

But shortly after the salads had been served, it soon became clear that not everyone had reached the same conclusion.

Seemingly out of nowhere, one seat away to his right, he heard Lawrence say - with a noticeable slurring in his voice - "Great, drag queens and f**s, what has this awards come to?!”

This alone was pretty shocking; he may not think the drag queen was a good candidate for the award, but saying something like that was completely unthinkable, even for Tony. Immediately, things escalated further, as the dressed-like-a-tourist guy abruptly stood up at the end of the table, walked up to Lawrence, and pulled his seat out from under him. Tony stared in shock as Lawrence fell to the ground, then the attacker grabbed the collar of his shirt and punched him, hard. Tony winced as he heard Lawrence’s nose break. With the shock wearing off he stood up, ready to get in between the two before more damage could be done, but it seemed like Mr. Beach had no intention of continuing; he said something in what Tony recognized as Spanish, then walked away.

“Lawrence, this is not your show. You know better than to be rude to guests. Go sober up,” Elenore said, her voice measured. “You can eat your dinner in the kitchen.” She added when he looked like he was about to say something to her.

As Lawrence started clumsily bringing himself to his feet, Tony glanced between him - his nose was hidden behind the hand clutching it, but the rapidly flowing stream of blood visible underneath was proof that it was definitely broken - and Elenore, trying to quickly decide what to do. Turning to Elenore he said, ”I’ll go make sure that’s not worse than it looks..?” with a hint of asking-for-permission in his voice. “Wouldn’t want him to bleed all over the food,” he added.

Elenore gave Tony a small smile and nod. “Yes. Thank you.”

Tony nodded in return then followed Lawrence out of the room, avoiding eye contact with any of the nominees. Most of them probably would have preferred Tony to do nothing, leaving the broken nose to permanently scar. But, at the end of the day, he was a doctor… and one that wanted to impress his hosts.

“‘ank you,” Lawrence said as they exited the dining room.

As the door closed behind them, Tony turned to face him. “You know, you really shouldn’t be saying shit like that,” he said, with only half the malice in his voice that any of the others likely would’ve had.

Lawrence rolled his eyes. “They are all thin skinned, if that bothered them.”

Avoiding taking a position on the matter, Tony instead replied, “Regardless, a host should not speak to their guests like that. Now, sit down and let me take a look at that,” he added, forestalling any further argument while he took off his blazer, carefully hanging it on the doorknob. After making sure it wouldn’t drag on the floor, of course.

Lawrence obeyed. Sitting down without arguing more. He almost missed the bench, drunk as he was. Carefully rolling up his sleeves, Tony leaned closer to get a better look; he obviously already knew it was broken, but he needed to see exactly where it was broken, what direction the nasal bones had moved in, and so on. Once he was satisfied with his assessment - which was, in layman’s terms, that the other guy had done a pretty good job on him - he started to reach towards the mess that was Lawrence’s face, then hesitated. Normally, this would be the part where he warns the patient with something like, “This will probably hurt a bit.” Actually, he’d normally give them some mild local anaesthesia to dull the pain. But… this time the patient did kinda deserve it. Without warning, Tony grabbed Lawrence’s broken nose and in one precise movement, he snapped it back into position. He took a step back to assess his handiwork, and he was pleased; he’d never seen a straighter nose than this one.

“Maudire!” Lawrence cursed as his nose was put back into place. But he didn’t complain more than that.

Tony nodded knowingly. “I think you already realized this, but it’s a broken nose. Was a broken nose,” he added, correcting himself with a slight hint of smugness. “I don’t think it’ll need a splint, but it’ll probably keep bleeding for a bit and it’s gonna hurt like hell for a while,” he continued as he found the nearest sink - making sure there was no food nearby first - and washed the blood off his hands. “Also, don’t drink for the rest of the night. It’ll just make the bleeding worse.”

That seemed to be the first thing that upset Lawrence more than surface level. “Fine, doc.” He huffed.

Tony nodded as he dried his hands, then unrolled his sleeves. “If the bleeding doesn’t stop within an hour, send someone to fetch me. If you see any clear fluid, fetch me immediately… and make arrangements for a boat or helicopter or something. Otherwise, enjoy your dinner,” he instructed as he walked past Lawrence, fetched his blazer, and put it back on. He gave himself a quick glance over to make sure his suit still looked as great as it did before - no blood stains, or visible wrinkles - then made his way back to the dining room, a few minutes after they’d left. In time for the salad course to be over, Tony hoped.

Château de La Lune

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Location: Château de La Lune: Lavender Room
Skills: N/A

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As Tony walked down the hall of bedrooms, he saw a butler going from door to door, holding a stack of cards. Sure enough, within a minute of returning to the Lavender Room, having barely started unpacking his luggage that had arrived while he was gone, there was a knock on the door. ”Come,” he called in answer, not turning from the pile of luxurious dress shirts he was trying to choose his dinner attire from.

He heard the door open, and the butler entered the room, lingering near the door. “Hello, Monsieur. I am here to collect your dinner preference card.”

”It’s on the desk,” Tony responds briefly, glancing at the butler and the desk before returning his attention to the clothes.

“Thank you, monsieur.” Felix collects the card and places it in his coat pocket. “If you need anything please let me know and I will do my best to accommodate.”

”Will do, thank you,” Tony responds without turning to look at him. Felix nods - which Tony doesn’t see - and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Remembering that the itinerary had said to dress “fancy” for dinner, Tony decides that he should dress a bit more formally than he normally would. Turning away from the shirts, he looks at the few jackets he’d brought, and after a moment of deliberation decides on a grey silk-cashmere blazer; not the finest jacket he owned, but close. To complete the outfit, he chose a pair of grey wool dress pants that closely matched the blazer, a light blue shirt, and his black calfskin oxfords. Frowning at a few wrinkles he found, he rummaged through his luggage to find his travel steamer, then got to work.

While waiting for his clothes to dry, he grabbed his toiletry bag and went to the bathroom to freshen up. As he brushed his teeth, he thought once again about the documents he’d found on his desk earlier. He did not have the slightest idea who was responsible, although he reasoned that it could not be any of the nominees - they had all arrived at the same time, after all. He also thought it unlikely that any of the staff or younger family members would be the culprit - if the head(s) of the family didn’t know it was happening, they’d presumably be outraged if they discovered that someone in the household was blackmailing a nominee.

No, it must be someone that’s in charge of things, or they at least know about it, Tony thought. But that didn’t really narrow it down that much - could it be the matriarch, Elenore? Could it be one of her children? Who knows… Lawrence had acted like he wasn’t very involved and didn’t know who was nominated, but that may very well be a ruse. He would need to watch all of them carefully.

Once his clothes were dry, Tony got dressed, leaving two buttons undone on his shirt, and applied a tasteful amount of cologne. Checking his watch, he saw that he had just a few minutes before dinner started, so without further ado he left the room. Hopefully I can get a better idea of who’s in charge around here over the course of dinner, he thought as he made his way downstairs to the dining room.

Château de La Lune

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Location: Château de La Lune: Lavender Room -> Rec Room
Skills: N/A

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After a couple minutes of staring at the lavender ceiling in thought, Tony got up from the bed and continued looking around the room. On the desk, he noticed there was a stack of papers. Curious, he went to take a closer look. On top of the pile was a card providing the wifi information, which he promptly logged into. Beneath that was the itinerary for the weekend, which looked straightforward enough. Attached to it was the list of meal options for tonight’s dinner, from which he chose the steak, trusting that people as sophisticated as the La Lunes wouldn’t deign to serve a steak at anything past medium rare. Next was a document outlining the history of the vineyard, which he quickly concluded had no information that he hadn’t found in his first few minutes of research. The last item on the pile, very out of place compared to the rest of the items, was a manila folder with nothing on the outside that might hint at its contents.

Curious, Tony opened the folder, revealing a stack of papers that all looked very similar. Looking at the first page, the first thing he noticed was the letterhead of Cornell University. Raising his eyebrows, he continued to the header:

TUITION & FEES - RECEIPT
Semester: Fall, 2005
Student: Stronzetto, Anthony

At this point, Tony was alarmed, and that alarm quickly turned into outright panic when he noticed that at the bottom of the page, beneath the section that itemized the rather substantial costs, a few lines had been neatly highlighted… those containing the details of the payment received to cover the full amount. The check number, the name associated with the bank account… and the name of the individual who signed the check. Quickly shuffling through the rest of the papers, he found that they were all the same: one for every semester of both undergrad and medical school.


What.
The.
FUCK.

How do they have this? Why do they have this? Do they know who that is? What else do they know? How long have they known? Why did they bring me here? Why do they want me to know that they know? How do they have this?!?!

All these questions and more rapidly flashed through his mind as Tony struggled to calm down enough for rational thought. This is a huge fucking problem. Worse, actually. This is an I-COULD-FUCKING-DIE problem. His panic giving way to anger, he began shredding every single page into tiny pieces. Tony knew it was a futile effort, that whoever had put the folder here to begin with would undoubtedly have other copies, and that even if they didn’t, the mere knowledge was enough to bury him. But he wouldn’t risk anyone else stumbling across this. He needed to eliminate this problem, and the last thing he needed was creating more problems. After a couple minutes he was done shredding, so he piled all the shreds onto the folder, carried it into the bathroom - which fortunately was not occupied by the resident of the Gold Room - and flushed every last shred down the toilet. He had to do it in three batches to make sure it wouldn’t clog, which he was sure his neighbor would probably draw embarrassing conclusions about; but since that was far better than the truth, so be it.

With the evidence safely disposed of, Tony left his room, passing some bickering servants on his way downstairs to the Rec Room. He had a huge problem to solve, urgently… but first, he needed a drink.

Making it downstairs without incident, Tony turned to the door on his right and opened it. Inside, he found what appeared to be by far the most modern room of the house he had seen so far - which wasn’t saying much, since the room still looked decades old. The clear centerpiece of the room was the wet bar, with seating for four. Behind the bar stood a bartender, who was absently cleaning a glass while chatting with a middle-aged male whose beer belly seemed a formidable challenge for the bar stool on which he was sitting. On the wall behind the bartender was an impressive array of wines and spirits.

The bartender looked up and nodded. “Good evening, sir. Can I get anything for you?”

Following the bartender’s gaze, the large man looked at Tony. “You’re one of the nominees.” The man had a strong French accent, but his voice was well trained. It was easy to understand and deep.

Tony nodded at each greeting in turn, approaching the bar and taking the seat furthest from the man, who he presumed must be one of the La Lunes. “Correct, although of course you already knew that,” Tony replied, forcing a smile. “Nevertheless, I am Dr. Stronzetto, but feel free to call me Tony.” Turning to the bartender he added, “I’ll have a glass of whatever is the finest scotch you have on hand, if you’d be so kind.”

“Would a Glenfiddich twenty-one be to your liking? I have that or some Kikori if that is your speed.”

“No one wants the weird rice scotch.” The man bellowed. “Pleasure to meet you Doc. I’m Lawrence. You’ll find that Leon likes strange things. But he’s good at his job.” Lawrence winked at Leon, the bartender. Obviously hinting at some long standing in-joke.

“The Glenfiddich would be perfect,” Tony answered, chuckling lightly at Lawrence’s dismissal of the Kikori. Turning to Lawrence, he replied “I would expect no less from a bartender working at one of the most famous vineyards in the world. I’m just glad to see he leaves some room on the bar for anything other than wine.”

“We do have a wide selection of wines from all over the world,” Leon said as he busied himself with pouring the requested glass.

“Gotta know the competition,” Lawrence said, raising his glass slightly. “So, you said you were a doctor. I’ll be honest here but I don’t know who all are in the nominees this time. Hopefully some cuties, though.” He chuckles. “What type of doctor are you?”

Thinking again of the folder he’d found in his room, Tony wondered whether this was a rhetorical question. “A surgeon,” he answered carefully. “I may be young in my field, but I have completed more than my fair share of successful surgeries so far. Hopefully nobody will be needing my services during this trip, but if the need arises, you can rest assured that they will be in good hands,” he vowed with a slight smile.

“Good to hear.” Lawrence nodded. “Between us two. This year is a mess. I saw there were two youtube personalities this year. Who even thought that was a good idea?” he shakes his head.

To play nice, or to tell the truth? Tony wondered. “I’m sure they’re good at… whatever it is they do,” he started, taking the middle ground, “but I must confess that they certainly are not what I was expecting.” By this point Leon had finished pouring the scotch, setting the glass on a coaster in front of him. Tony took a sip, nodding his thanks.

“Enjoy sir,” Leon said.

“Oh, everyone is good at what they do if they are here,” Lawrence replies, waving his hand dismissively. “You can’t be bad at what you do and be invited here. Vorace made sure of that.” He turns and raises his glass to the painting of the old man on the wall.

Tony simply nodded, taking the moment to look around the rest of the room. A few seating areas occupied much of the space, although there was a section dedicated to recreational activities, offering a billiards table, an air hockey table, and an ornate chess board. He also saw a bookshelf containing what seemed to be board games, although from here he could not discern any of their identities. On the back wall were two paintings: the portrait of Vorace that Lawrence had saluted, and another that depicted what he suspected was a younger Elenore, and what he assumed was the rest of her family. At a secluded table in a corner of the room, Tony saw a young woman hunched over a laptop, seemingly ignoring everyone else in the room. “She seems chatty,” he remarked, taking another sip of scotch.

“Only if you’re an internet friend.” Lawrence rolled his eyes, sipping his own drink. “She hasn’t spoken to most of the family in probably a year. Went to college and got smart. More like smart ass,” he said the last part loudly, mostly at the woman in the corner. She flipped him off, without looking up from her laptop.

“And respectful towards her elders,” Tony ironically added to his previous observation. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that it was already 4:30, thirty minutes before dinner. “Well, thanks for your company, Lawrence, but I suppose I should get ready for dinner.” Turning to Leon, “And for the scotch,” he added, tilting his head back and downing the rest of the glass in one shot, then setting the glass down on the bar.

“See you at dinner,” Lawrence said. “Maybe you’ll get a better look at Lena’s face away from her computer screen too.” Leon gave a nod.

Tony nodded, in lieu of a response. Exiting through the foyer, he headed back up the stairs towards his hideous Lavender Room, reflecting on his conversation with Lawrence as he walked. Neither of the La Lunes he’d just met were quite what he’d imagined this family to be. I signed up for an award ceremony, not a bunch of mysteries, he thought grumpily.

Château de La Lune

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Location: Tony's Residence, Miami, FL
Skills: N/A

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Sipping on his coffee, Tony watched the sun rising over the ocean. Although there was a lot of things he missed from New York, this perk of living in Miami never got old. Closing his eyes, Tony listened to the waves crashing against the beach as he thought again of the letter he'd received yesterday, congratulating him on his nomination for the Vorace La Lune Award of Achievement. It was about time Tony received some recognition, he thought, even if it's an award he'd never heard of until now. The million dollar prize would be a welcome bonus too, putting him way ahead on his mortgage. Yes, he would definitely be accepting the invitation. Even if he loses to a more experienced surgeon, the vacation would be a nice change of pace. I just hope this goes nothing like the last awards ceremony I attended, he thought darkly as he went back inside.

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Location: Château de La Lune: Foyer

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Sitting down inside the limo, Tony got his first look at the other nominees. He was a bit surprised; he did not recognize any of them, and none of them seemed to act like any of the doctors he'd met. Maybe they were Europeans? He decided to focus on listening to try to solve the mystery, only speaking himself when directly addressed, but he wasn't able to gather much from the trip's small talk.

The private jet had been quite nice, at least. Way more spacious than even first class, and much better meal options. The limo and ferry rides were pretty comfortable in their own rights, and before long they arrived at the chateau. The estate was undeniably impressive and as they entered, Tony observed that the foyer was equally so. After listening to Elenore's short speech, he followed a few of the other nominees to the notice board, began skimming through the room assignments, and... Tony scowled. Ghost hunter? Preschool teacher? Drag queen? These are the people I'm competing against? How the hell could this award possibly be so prestigious if these are their idea of ideal candidates?

After a few moments of further consideration, Tony composed himself, smirking. Well, at least it's a foregone conclusion that I'll be the winner, he thought, pleased. Finding his name on the list, he saw that he'd been assigned the Lavender Room. Following some of the other nominees, he headed upstairs to find his room. He had to walk all the way to the end of the hallway, but eventually he found his room and stepped inside. Looking around, he scowled once again. If he was asked to design his ideal bedroom, the result would be just about the exact opposite of what he saw in front of him. Is this whole thing some elaborate prank meant to embarrass me? Tony wondered incredulously. Well, if it is, then they expect a reaction out of me, but I'm sure as hell not going to give them what they want, he decided. Sighing, he flopped onto the bed, staring at the ridiculous lavender ceiling. At least the bed is comfortable.

"This is going to be a long vacation."

Château de La Lune

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