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As the clock begins to chime, the houseguests find the familiar grip of sleep stealing over their bodies. This occurs regardless of the houseguest’s ability to sleep. As they find themselves caught in the grips of a deep, somber sleep, they will begin to dream. The dream becomes their own, twisting in their minds until they and the dreamer are one and the same, completely inseparable.
His hands scraped at the dirt, numb to the pain by now, barely noticing the scrape of a stone as he pulled it free of the dark earth. He had to bury them. It was only right, even in this horrible place.
Even in these horrible times.
He had to bury them.
He wasn’t aware of the tears streaming down his face, or the blood mixing with the handfuls of soil he pulled from the hole, given no other tools but his damaged hands to make a grave.
Had to bury them. It was right. Had to give them a proper burial, even in this house of darkness and evil, they deserved that much. He could barely remember the words, though he had performed the service a thousand times, spoken the words of comfort for complete strangers, and given them the peace of knowing their loved ones would rest.
But who was here to hear those words? Was anyone even listening any longer? The others had died in the flame, or at the edge of some dark, twisted knife, and his family-why? Why? They had done nothing to deserve this.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, what was given shall now be returned. Though short their lives, and needless their deaths, let them find rest in your light oh-” He swallowed a sob. “Let them find peace, as they could not here. Let them find rest. Please. Please. Whatever power hears me still, let them find peace. Let their souls rest and end this torment. I do not care what waits for me-”
His voice broke, bloody, burned hands clutching the tainted earth, dragging it to his face. “Please. Whatever power would heed me. Please. Rend the bond between this terrible place and them. Let them go. Let them go.”
The desperation of the dreamer faded, dousing itself like a candle in a cast into a pond, in its place there was only silence, as though a dream field stood in front of them but no dreamer had stepped forward.
The silence continued, keeping them firmly in its grasp, until each would find themselves conscious of the thought that they may never hear a thing again. That the darkness would be their only view.
That there would be no warmth, no love, no light to soothe their fears.
Only a never ending stillness, pressing around them like the deepest, moonless night.
Though they might fight, they will find that they cannot wake from the unchanging darkness.
Though no dream appears, they will find themselves stuck, silenced, as though wrapped in a physical thing.
No dreamer stepped forward, no memory started to play. It is as though the dreamers are trapped in a theater, and no one has set the movie to play.
There is only the perfect darkness and oppressive silence. The silence is so complete that it becomes a noise, the rush of the blood in their ears the only thing they can hear. Though all dream the same dream, there is no hint of the other dreamers in the darkness.
They are so very alone, so deeply trapped, sucked beneath a tide of unnatural, sticky stillness. They cannot even move.
Light rushes back into their existence, moments seem to have passed, though it could just as easily have been years trapped in the silence.
Around the sleepers stands a ring of smiling Unnatural Servants, though the creatures have been silent during all of their appearances, they now begin to speak, their voices overlapping in song-like unison.
“My honored guest,
I give to you
A special quest--
And choices, too!
These notes, you see,
Are many things:
Like puzzles, or keys,
Or chains, or wings.
Like secrets, or dreams,
Like hope, or treasure,
Like poison, like seams--
Now, what is your pleasure?
They're yours to sell,
Or yours to keep.
Please use them well--
Both sow and reap.
Those starved and weak
Who struggle to live:
It's servants you seek.
Now, simply give!
Under their care
You'll want for naught.
But is the price fair,
For the salvation you've bought?
As for the rest,
Who wish to keep:
Perhaps it's best
You also sleep?
You'll find and see,
You'll learn and know;
With such a key,
How far you'll go!
But do you dare?
What will you find?
You must beware
And steel your mind.
You might go mad
Or be stolen away;
It might be bad,
The price you pay.
Now, make up your mind!
Decide where you stand!
Will you live and stay blind?
Or pay to understand?”
The servants bow, their message finished, and the dreamers will find themselves finally able to wake.
They will wake to find themselves covered in cobwebs and dust, as though they lingered in the dream space for far longer than should have been possible. The Unnatural Servants move among them, cleaning away the dust and grime. The clock has moved an hour past dawn.
The upper floors have fixed themselves, solid once more, giving no hint that they vanished at any time in the past. The night’s game seems to have ended, allowing the houseguests to make their way from house to house again. The dolls have also vanished, though any taken by the guests remain where they were placed.
The Doll Bathroom is entirely empty, the dolls absent from their shelf. There is only the darkness where the mirror once rested. Anyone who lingers long will find that they can hear a quiet whispering, as though someone is calling them closer to the empty space.
In the Gallery Don has appeared once more, sprawled on the stairs and seeming in no hurry to move.
In the Theater on the Stage a woman has appeared. She seems surprised to find herself there, hair short cropped and blond. She is dressed quite practically. She rises slowly, tucking something back into her shirt, before carefully making her way from the stage and out into the house proper.
In the Bell Bathroom a child has appeared in the tub. The water is running impossibly, as the pipes are entirely empty. The stopper has been placed, and for a moment he looks quite dead. He moves suddenly, bursting from the water and gasping for air, eyes squinting against the light as though he is entirely unused to seeing it. As he crawls free of the bath, he seems more alarmed than anything else, not leaving the bathroom. Though he puts as much distance between himself and the tub as he possibly can.
As he leaves the bathtub, the water vanishes from the tub, leaving him completely dry.
The Apples in the Orchard are ripe, and the grass and trees show hints of early fall frost. The cooling weather is a welcome relief from the heat of the night, perhaps the only relief the day brings them.
In the Ballroom a small orange ball has appeared directly in the center of the room. It bounces, stopping at the height of a child, though there seems to be nothing there to catch it, and it is propelled back towards the floor. If anyone attempts to grab it, they will find themselves viciously pelted with balls of various sizes from around the room, though nothing appears to be throwing them.
As the guests begin to stir and gather their wits once more, they will find that the kitchens still stand empty, and the pipes offer no water. They are not, however, without options to procure supplies.
Those who said yes in the Stalker Plot will find that they wake with food and water, enough to feed themselves for the duration of the day.
Those who were not involved in the plot, or those who said no, will have another opportunity. Scattered throughout the house are items, and any who come close to them will feel the compelling desire to pick them up, as though the realization that this is what the riddle was about has been implanted in their minds. If these items are collected, they can be given to the Unnatural Servants for food and water in varying amounts. Take care, though, as each item may hold significance in future plots. The choice lays with the houseguests; hand them over or starve.
( Item list )
( memories-- trigger warnings within )
((ooc note from Fenix: player plot details here, willing to re-open interactions with him if there is still interest. Through out the day and night, Even lurks around the second house. He looks almost exactly like Vexen, if not for the labcoat and uniform under it - and the fact that he's very much a replica, though it's almost impossible to tell. He's doing a through search of the place, looking for something - someone.
He'll be rather focused, and characters are free to notice and interact with him as he'll around until midnight. (there will be an interaction log up for this.)))
His hands scraped at the dirt, numb to the pain by now, barely noticing the scrape of a stone as he pulled it free of the dark earth. He had to bury them. It was only right, even in this horrible place.
Even in these horrible times.
He had to bury them.
He wasn’t aware of the tears streaming down his face, or the blood mixing with the handfuls of soil he pulled from the hole, given no other tools but his damaged hands to make a grave.
Had to bury them. It was right. Had to give them a proper burial, even in this house of darkness and evil, they deserved that much. He could barely remember the words, though he had performed the service a thousand times, spoken the words of comfort for complete strangers, and given them the peace of knowing their loved ones would rest.
But who was here to hear those words? Was anyone even listening any longer? The others had died in the flame, or at the edge of some dark, twisted knife, and his family-why? Why? They had done nothing to deserve this.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, what was given shall now be returned. Though short their lives, and needless their deaths, let them find rest in your light oh-” He swallowed a sob. “Let them find peace, as they could not here. Let them find rest. Please. Please. Whatever power hears me still, let them find peace. Let their souls rest and end this torment. I do not care what waits for me-”
His voice broke, bloody, burned hands clutching the tainted earth, dragging it to his face. “Please. Whatever power would heed me. Please. Rend the bond between this terrible place and them. Let them go. Let them go.”
The desperation of the dreamer faded, dousing itself like a candle in a cast into a pond, in its place there was only silence, as though a dream field stood in front of them but no dreamer had stepped forward.
The silence continued, keeping them firmly in its grasp, until each would find themselves conscious of the thought that they may never hear a thing again. That the darkness would be their only view.
That there would be no warmth, no love, no light to soothe their fears.
Only a never ending stillness, pressing around them like the deepest, moonless night.
Though they might fight, they will find that they cannot wake from the unchanging darkness.
Though no dream appears, they will find themselves stuck, silenced, as though wrapped in a physical thing.
No dreamer stepped forward, no memory started to play. It is as though the dreamers are trapped in a theater, and no one has set the movie to play.
There is only the perfect darkness and oppressive silence. The silence is so complete that it becomes a noise, the rush of the blood in their ears the only thing they can hear. Though all dream the same dream, there is no hint of the other dreamers in the darkness.
They are so very alone, so deeply trapped, sucked beneath a tide of unnatural, sticky stillness. They cannot even move.
Light rushes back into their existence, moments seem to have passed, though it could just as easily have been years trapped in the silence.
Around the sleepers stands a ring of smiling Unnatural Servants, though the creatures have been silent during all of their appearances, they now begin to speak, their voices overlapping in song-like unison.
“My honored guest,
I give to you
A special quest--
And choices, too!
These notes, you see,
Are many things:
Like puzzles, or keys,
Or chains, or wings.
Like secrets, or dreams,
Like hope, or treasure,
Like poison, like seams--
Now, what is your pleasure?
They're yours to sell,
Or yours to keep.
Please use them well--
Both sow and reap.
Those starved and weak
Who struggle to live:
It's servants you seek.
Now, simply give!
Under their care
You'll want for naught.
But is the price fair,
For the salvation you've bought?
As for the rest,
Who wish to keep:
Perhaps it's best
You also sleep?
You'll find and see,
You'll learn and know;
With such a key,
How far you'll go!
But do you dare?
What will you find?
You must beware
And steel your mind.
You might go mad
Or be stolen away;
It might be bad,
The price you pay.
Now, make up your mind!
Decide where you stand!
Will you live and stay blind?
Or pay to understand?”
The servants bow, their message finished, and the dreamers will find themselves finally able to wake.
They will wake to find themselves covered in cobwebs and dust, as though they lingered in the dream space for far longer than should have been possible. The Unnatural Servants move among them, cleaning away the dust and grime. The clock has moved an hour past dawn.
The upper floors have fixed themselves, solid once more, giving no hint that they vanished at any time in the past. The night’s game seems to have ended, allowing the houseguests to make their way from house to house again. The dolls have also vanished, though any taken by the guests remain where they were placed.
The Doll Bathroom is entirely empty, the dolls absent from their shelf. There is only the darkness where the mirror once rested. Anyone who lingers long will find that they can hear a quiet whispering, as though someone is calling them closer to the empty space.
In the Gallery Don has appeared once more, sprawled on the stairs and seeming in no hurry to move.
In the Theater on the Stage a woman has appeared. She seems surprised to find herself there, hair short cropped and blond. She is dressed quite practically. She rises slowly, tucking something back into her shirt, before carefully making her way from the stage and out into the house proper.
In the Bell Bathroom a child has appeared in the tub. The water is running impossibly, as the pipes are entirely empty. The stopper has been placed, and for a moment he looks quite dead. He moves suddenly, bursting from the water and gasping for air, eyes squinting against the light as though he is entirely unused to seeing it. As he crawls free of the bath, he seems more alarmed than anything else, not leaving the bathroom. Though he puts as much distance between himself and the tub as he possibly can.
As he leaves the bathtub, the water vanishes from the tub, leaving him completely dry.
The Apples in the Orchard are ripe, and the grass and trees show hints of early fall frost. The cooling weather is a welcome relief from the heat of the night, perhaps the only relief the day brings them.
In the Ballroom a small orange ball has appeared directly in the center of the room. It bounces, stopping at the height of a child, though there seems to be nothing there to catch it, and it is propelled back towards the floor. If anyone attempts to grab it, they will find themselves viciously pelted with balls of various sizes from around the room, though nothing appears to be throwing them.
As the guests begin to stir and gather their wits once more, they will find that the kitchens still stand empty, and the pipes offer no water. They are not, however, without options to procure supplies.
Those who said yes in the Stalker Plot will find that they wake with food and water, enough to feed themselves for the duration of the day.
Those who were not involved in the plot, or those who said no, will have another opportunity. Scattered throughout the house are items, and any who come close to them will feel the compelling desire to pick them up, as though the realization that this is what the riddle was about has been implanted in their minds. If these items are collected, they can be given to the Unnatural Servants for food and water in varying amounts. Take care, though, as each item may hold significance in future plots. The choice lays with the houseguests; hand them over or starve.
( Item list )
( memories-- trigger warnings within )
((ooc note from Fenix: player plot details here, willing to re-open interactions with him if there is still interest. Through out the day and night, Even lurks around the second house. He looks almost exactly like Vexen, if not for the labcoat and uniform under it - and the fact that he's very much a replica, though it's almost impossible to tell. He's doing a through search of the place, looking for something - someone.
He'll be rather focused, and characters are free to notice and interact with him as he'll around until midnight. (there will be an interaction log up for this.)))
