Previous history of Doctor Johnathon Bianchi :
Johnathon Bianci is a descendent of the Casterly line of Angels, from so long ago, and he holds a small place in his heart for the one that captured a demon’s heart, Selene. Even though he has only read about his ancestor in books, and scrolls, the tale fascinates him to this day. As the Victorian era is a wonderful time for literature and the rise of the industrial age, he marvels as the changes that are taking place in his world, So much to learn and as they say, knowledge is power.
Having relocated his family to the United States during the 1920’s, the famous Doctor carried out his forensics and supernatural investigations but sadly without the help of his most trusted associate Reginald Blaine, who had died of old age in the 1960’s. Reginald had married Vivenne Westlake, the nosy reporter and had three children to their credit. Over the years, Johnathon lost contact with the descendants of the Blaines as he continued to move his offices around the country. Now having settled in New Haven, he has managed to slip into obscurity as many of those that knew him form the old days had long since passed…or so he thought. Little did he know that the Marulos and the Roxburgs were right around the corner.
Dr Johnathon Bianchi (Angel) – CharlotteCarrendar
Levi Bianchi – Son (Angel) – Open
Genie Bianchi – Daughter (Angel) – Open
Miss Nellie – Maid (Angel) – Open or NPC
Cookie – House Cook – (Angel) – Open or NPC
Reginald Blaine (Human descendant of the Detective Reginald Blaine) – CharlotteCarrendar
In the setting of beautiful Victorian styled gardens sat Stonewall Cottage. A crackle gravel drive went around large oaks and willows to a double story garage, that was fashioned from hand cut stone blocks. It is in this setting that we find the newly relocated office of one Doctor Johnathon Bianchi. Having lived in various modern apartments in New York, he had moved his family and staff out to the more quaint area of New Hampshire which truly suited the Doctor’s tastes. It had been a few weeks since the Doctor had relocated. His son and daughter – Levi and Genie were yet to join him and his staff as they were tying up loose ends in the city with their jobs and apartments. This was a new beginning for the entire Bianchi clan. Having moved so much since the 1920s, the Doctor felt this was a good move for them all, and there was no doubt in his mind that there was always new investigations waiting for him, no matter what part of the country he lived in.
It was now ten o’clock, and the old grandfather clock in the hall was chiming merrily, as Miss Nellie was working on still unpacking some of the family heirlooms from old tea chests that had come from the mother country. Some of the boxes had not been unpacked since arriving in the US all those years ago, mainly because the artefacts simply didn’t suit the decor of the houses that the Doctor lived in. This cottage suited the Doctor and his collection to a T. Unwrapping a gilded picture frame of the Bianchi family back in the heyday of the late 1800’s, she wistfully stared at the image of the family dressed in smart clothing, with the late Mrs Bianchi looking so happy. Such a shame what had become of her. The Doctor never remarried after she left, and then was found dead in suspicious circumstances. Just another mystery; that the Doctor spent many years trying to solve.
In the kitchen, Cookie was tapping her foot to the latest tune by Katy Perry as she set about preparing a lovely morning tea for the good Doctor. His favourite was buttermilk scones with homemade strawberry jam. The kitchen had all the modern day appliances one would expect from such a house, and Cookie had taken to them with relish. They made cooking all the better and a lot less work for the family Cook, who had been in the service of the Doctor since he was in his twenties. Placing the silver tea pot on the tray, she arranged the scones on a fine porcelain plate, ready to take into the Doctor’s office.
Out on the road that ran past the Cottage, a lone figure stood. Wearing jeans and a plaid shirt with leather jacket, he had a backpack on his back and was checking the address from his cell phone. Glancing up at the plaque that said “Bianchi Investigations”, the young man thought to himself. “Well, this is it.” He walked on through the gates and headed down the gravel drive to the Cottage where he was hoping that all his questions could be answered.
The sounds of a car rolling down the gravel drive slowly became more present and pressing as a 1970 Dodge charger black in color began to pull down the drive way. The driver would slow before pulling up along side the male walking down the gravel drive as the tinted window rolled down to reveal a women’s face. “Hop in…” That was all that she said before she put the charger in park to wait for the male to either get in or continue walking. The women driving the car seemed to be about twenty five years in age if not a little bit younger. She wore a simple black blouse and tight form fitting yoga pants making it seem as if she had just come from a gym or something of that sort. Her name was Genie Bianchi the daughter of Johnathon Bianchi. She had just come from New York and was eager to see her father. Genie was a martial artist at heart and had been partaking in many competitions for such a thing. The thing was she seemed sweet and kind but she had a fighter’s heart and was wiling to fight for those she cared for. As she waited she would turn the radio on and allow her music to play which happened to be her favorite song. What was her favorite song might you ask? It happened to be a song by Linkin Park that was named One Step closer. As the music played she would bob her head along to the beat while drumming her fingers over the leather steering wheel.
Reginald turned his head slightly as he heard the unmistakable roar of the dodge as it entered the grounds. A girl with a shock of black hair offered him a ride inside, but Reginald pointed to the main house, and said politely; “I can see the main house just there. Thanks anyways.” As the girl drove off to park her car, Reginald continued to walk, stuffing his cellphone into his jacket pocket. Inside his mind, he could hardly believe he was doing this. Having travelled all the way from Chicago based on the writings in a journal he discovered in his great grandfather’s possessions in an old attic, Reginald was following a dream. Would the people within this house know of his ancestor? The great Detective of Scotland yard. The writings in the journal were like reading a novel, a personal account of his life, and that of his wife, Vivienne Westlake. What struck him most however, was the Detective’s friendship with the Doctor. Doctor Johnathon Bianchi. So much of what was written was almost hard to believe and he was sure that most of the writings never were published, as they were fanciful at best. Supernatural creatures haunting the streets of London town? He had the tattered journal safe within his backpack. Reginald had brought it this far, and he hoped that the ancestors of Doctor Bianchi could shed some light on the mysteries within its pages.
On reaching the front door, he turned his head slightly to see the young girl park her car. Dressed casually, she was a pretty thing, he had to admit. Reginald had an eye for beautiful women, and this girl was intriguing. Standing on the front porch, Reginald raised his fist and knocked twice, before stepping back and waiting for the door to be answered.
When the door opened however, Reginald was taken aback by the sight of the maid. She looked like she had stepped out of the show; Upstairs Downstairs, and was holding an old feather duster in her hand. When she saw him however, the feather duster slipped from her fingers and she clutched her chest. “Saints be alive….” To Miss Nellie it was like seeing a ghost, only…he was very real. Her jaw moved almost of its own accord, as she struggled to find composure. The man looked exactly like the late Reginald Blaine. It had been years since his passing, and yet, here stood his likeness. Reginald was stunned by the young woman’s reaction and took a step forward. “Are you alright, Miss?” Spoken with a distinct american accent, unlike that of his ancestor. Fanning herself, the maid, then nodded rapidly, and asked. “Can…can I help you?” It was an obvious question of course. Reginald then replied. “I’m actually looking for…well, a relation of the famous Doctor Bianchi? I have this journal…” But before he could finish, a deep voice called out from his office.
“Send him in, Nellie.”
Johnathon knew this day would come. He had waited many years.
Stonewall Cottage and Gardens – Bianchi Investigations.
Genie would shrug before driving off to park her 1970 dodge charger off to the side and out of the way. Slowly she would step out of the car before walking to the door and stopping beside the male. As she waited for the door to be answered she would cast a wary glance at him as if he seemed familiar but she shrugged it off. It was then the door opened to Nellie the maid before Genie slipped passed her and called out. “Father….I’m home..” It was clear Genie had much to tell her father from the way her voice rang out joyous and bubbly. Then with a frown she would stand in the hall before hearing her father call out from his office. Silently she trotted down the halls following his voice before stopping outside the door and knocking politely. “Father? May I come in?”
It seemed that there was not just one at the door, but two. Genie could be heard singing out for her father, after walking past Reginald – who was still waiting to be shown through. Miss Nellie bobbed a small curtsey as she was still very much set in her ways of time past. Reginald had already sort of met the girl in the driveway, and it was clear she was related to the Doctor. Holding onto his back pack strap, Reginald heard the deep toned voice call for him to be shown in. Miss Nellie stepped back and gestured with her hand for Reginald to enter.
“Thank you so much.” Reginald offered as he went to walk past the maid. Miss Nellie asked of him; “Shall I take your bag, Sir?” As it was normal for her to take a guest’s hat, bag and coat. Reginald was not used to this kind of attention and said that he would rather hang on to it. Giving a light nod of her head, Miss Nellie showed Reginald through to the office door, which had the Doctor’s name written on a small plaque on the door. She reached for the door handle and then opened it, for both Genie and Reginald.
Sitting inside at an old wooden desk, that was covered in papers, photographs and odd old cups of tea, was none other than the Doctor. Johnathon Bianchi. The same Doctor who had treated women for hysteria back in the late 1800’s, the same Doctor who had mounted and solved many investigations in the dark back alleys and haunted houses of London and the surrounding shires and towns. The office walls were laden with Doctrates, framed photographs that dated back to the early 1800’s and newspaper clippings of some of the more shocking cases that were ever to be printed. Cookie came in through the side door that was attatched to the Office from the southern end of the house. She spotted Reginald and immediately her jaw fell open. This was going to be awkward. Johnathon could see Cookie’s distress, and cleared a space on his desk for her to put down the tray.
“More cups for tea, Cookie. We have guests.” The Doctor offered, as he then shot a look at Genie and winked. “How was the city, Genie?” He could see by how she was dressed that she had only just come back. Cookie fussed and placed down the tray, before taking up all the dirty cups that the Doctor had scattered all over his office. Every time she looked at Reginald, it was like…she was seeing a Ghost. Reginald was too busy taking in everything. From the decor of the room, to that of the Doctor, who was wearing clothes that were well over a century or more old. Johnathon gestured for Genie and Reginald to take a seat each, while Miss Nellie closed the door to the office. No doubt she would be eavesdropping. This was simply something to incredulous to miss.
Reginald sat himself down in one of the antique velvet covered chairs, but not before removing the back pack from his back and setting it down on the floor near his leg. The journal from his great grandfather was inside. At first Reginald appeared lost for words. It was like he had stepped back in time almost, until his eyes looked up to the top of the display case for skulls and other forensic samples only to see a photograph. His eyes widened as he stared at the photograph for a while. Johnathon could see where the young man was looking, and knew this was when the penny was about to drop.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Doctor Johnathon Bianchi. And yes….that man in the photograph…..is your great grandfather. Detective Reginald Blaine. Scotland Yard.”
Reginald was shocked, to say the least. This was too incredulous to be true. “My great grandfather has been dead for over fifty years. You can’t be the same man he knew. How is it even possible?” Reginald asked. He looked at Genie as if she might know the answers. Cookie coughed and then left the room. She too knew the original Detective and always enjoyed the times he visited the Doctor. They were the best of friends.
The Doctor placed his palms together and drummed his fingers, as he stared the young man, who was a dead ringer for Reg.
“A mystery….to be certain, Reginald. I take it, you have many other questions for me. Don’t worry, we have all morning.”