The Porcelain Parlor was alive with activity on Halloween night and the light blue Victorian dollhouse stood in stark contrast to the inky darkness outside. Ambrose, the living marionette, stood gracefully on his wooden stage, his articulated ivory body poised in a frozen dance. His long white hair cascaded like a waterfall of moonlight, and his pale blue eyes seemed to hold secrets of their own as he watched the visitors. "Tonight... perhaps tonight," he murmured with a hopeful and longing air.