allthekeys (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
allthekeys) wrote2012-07-14 12:00 am
allthekeys) wrote2012-07-14 12:00 am
Entry tags:
Midnight Update
The clock begins to chime the hour, muted and almost sullen, barely reaching beyond the utterly colorless parlor. The sound offers no comfort to those who hear it, but it also seems to change nothing at all.
The Sensitive in the house will find that they feel suddenly very safe, calm and sedate. Even the sickness seems less important. The non-sensitive might notice that their brethren seem unnervingly content with their current situation. The chimes of the clock bring a deeper calm upon the house, and those with unnatural senses will almost certainly notice that the house seems strangely still. The smell of rot does not fade, though it may seem less important now, almost an afterthought.
Those who have interacted with Lock will find themselves hearing a distant note, like the beginning on a song. The sound is too distant to clearly make out, and the song itself remains unresolved on the edge of hearing, but seems to be beckoning them. No matter where they go in the house, they will be unable to locate the source.
The bells in the Bell Tower begin to toll, though they seem to have nothing to do with the hour. The mournful tolling pervades the house, echoing throughout the halls, seeping into the fevered flesh of the houseguests until the sound is almost a living thing. It is not unpleasant, it does not shake them, but it lingers. The bell ringer, whatever their purpose, does not halt and any attempts to open the door to stop them will find that the Bell Tower door seems to be stuck, though there is no lock to stop it from opening.
Near the Hanging Tree something stirs, twelve women dressed entirely in grey, their faces covered and their frames obscured. They have split into groups of two, four groups carrying a small bier between them. On each is a body. Their mouths and eyes are sewn shut with threads not unlike those binding the companions to their houseguest partner. Their hands have all been bound with the same red cord, ears stuffed with cotton.
They do not move, and the creatures carrying them do not seem overly bothered by their macabre cargo.
The final two women trail behind, guiding a stumbling man between them, his head remains bowed and he does not make any attempt to make eye contact with anyone he passes. He is very finely dressed, waist coat buttoned neatly and hair well tended, as though he has only left a party. He stumbles every third step, left arm drifting as though to catch him, though his right remains slack at his side. Unlike the people on the biers, his face is unmarked.
The bier he walks directly behind holds a woman, her skin is coffee colored and her hair is cut short and dyed bright red. She seems almost faded, despite her dramatic coloring, lips pale around the stitching and skin hanging loosely on her frame. Her hands are crossed, and a close look by a daring house guest might reveal that she is crying, tears leaking from the corners of her sewn shut eyes.
On the next is a blond woman; her skin is pale and even more washed out than the woman on the other platform. Her blond hair is pale and brittle, and seems dirty. Her hands are not crossed, and the slight gap between the cords binding her hands seems to indicate some sort of struggle. She seems drained of life, and yet somehow not resigned.
The third holds a man of Asian decent, as equally pale and bound as his fellows. Next to him on the platform lays a sword, though none of the others seem to have managed to retain any accoutrement. His hands lay bound on his chest, equally as passive as the first woman, as though he does not think to struggle and will not try to move.
The last bier holds the girl Rose. She is solidly bound and does not make any attempt to rise, though her chest rises and falls in frightened gasps for breath.
The somber parade starts in the Third House and winds its way slowly through the other two houses. The women do not speak, and do not pause as they find their way through the house, even the man does not seem to slow them. They will make their way to the Ballroom and through one of the side doors into the Greenhouse.
Anyone attempting to follow them for long will find themselves lost in the Mist. The procession will not pause and the participants do not seem to register any attempts to interact with them.
As they vanish, the bells in the tower finally fall still.
The night continues, the monsters do not return to the halls. As the last toll of the bells dies to echoes, the house once again falls perfectly silent.
((ooc: Don't forget that there are sign ups for experiments on the previous update! We draw for names at the next update!))
The Sensitive in the house will find that they feel suddenly very safe, calm and sedate. Even the sickness seems less important. The non-sensitive might notice that their brethren seem unnervingly content with their current situation. The chimes of the clock bring a deeper calm upon the house, and those with unnatural senses will almost certainly notice that the house seems strangely still. The smell of rot does not fade, though it may seem less important now, almost an afterthought.
Those who have interacted with Lock will find themselves hearing a distant note, like the beginning on a song. The sound is too distant to clearly make out, and the song itself remains unresolved on the edge of hearing, but seems to be beckoning them. No matter where they go in the house, they will be unable to locate the source.
The bells in the Bell Tower begin to toll, though they seem to have nothing to do with the hour. The mournful tolling pervades the house, echoing throughout the halls, seeping into the fevered flesh of the houseguests until the sound is almost a living thing. It is not unpleasant, it does not shake them, but it lingers. The bell ringer, whatever their purpose, does not halt and any attempts to open the door to stop them will find that the Bell Tower door seems to be stuck, though there is no lock to stop it from opening.
Near the Hanging Tree something stirs, twelve women dressed entirely in grey, their faces covered and their frames obscured. They have split into groups of two, four groups carrying a small bier between them. On each is a body. Their mouths and eyes are sewn shut with threads not unlike those binding the companions to their houseguest partner. Their hands have all been bound with the same red cord, ears stuffed with cotton.
They do not move, and the creatures carrying them do not seem overly bothered by their macabre cargo.
The final two women trail behind, guiding a stumbling man between them, his head remains bowed and he does not make any attempt to make eye contact with anyone he passes. He is very finely dressed, waist coat buttoned neatly and hair well tended, as though he has only left a party. He stumbles every third step, left arm drifting as though to catch him, though his right remains slack at his side. Unlike the people on the biers, his face is unmarked.
The bier he walks directly behind holds a woman, her skin is coffee colored and her hair is cut short and dyed bright red. She seems almost faded, despite her dramatic coloring, lips pale around the stitching and skin hanging loosely on her frame. Her hands are crossed, and a close look by a daring house guest might reveal that she is crying, tears leaking from the corners of her sewn shut eyes.
On the next is a blond woman; her skin is pale and even more washed out than the woman on the other platform. Her blond hair is pale and brittle, and seems dirty. Her hands are not crossed, and the slight gap between the cords binding her hands seems to indicate some sort of struggle. She seems drained of life, and yet somehow not resigned.
The third holds a man of Asian decent, as equally pale and bound as his fellows. Next to him on the platform lays a sword, though none of the others seem to have managed to retain any accoutrement. His hands lay bound on his chest, equally as passive as the first woman, as though he does not think to struggle and will not try to move.
The last bier holds the girl Rose. She is solidly bound and does not make any attempt to rise, though her chest rises and falls in frightened gasps for breath.
The somber parade starts in the Third House and winds its way slowly through the other two houses. The women do not speak, and do not pause as they find their way through the house, even the man does not seem to slow them. They will make their way to the Ballroom and through one of the side doors into the Greenhouse.
Anyone attempting to follow them for long will find themselves lost in the Mist. The procession will not pause and the participants do not seem to register any attempts to interact with them.
As they vanish, the bells in the tower finally fall still.
The night continues, the monsters do not return to the halls. As the last toll of the bells dies to echoes, the house once again falls perfectly silent.
((ooc: Don't forget that there are sign ups for experiments on the previous update! We draw for names at the next update!))