Midnight 022

[allthekeys]

|| Night 022: Midnight As the clock strikes midnight and the Phantasms move from house to house static follows; the radios begin to crackle, bursting with life. Each communications device, radio or phone vibrates with energy as the effect passes through. It fluctuates, weaker at times and stronger at times. And then it is followed by a woman's voice, familiar to some. She pleads over the frequency, insistent-- the problem, however, is that not a word can be understood. The voice is garbled and strange, no discernible language to be found. Moments after her voice dies, others join the static. All communications devices are equally affected, more of the strange words echoing, only periodically understood. "Hello." "It's you again." With the fading of this noise, something has been triggered. The voices on the radio have stolen some of the words of the house guests, and the communication problems faced earlier in the night increase twofold. It is still not an exhaustive effect, but as the Phantasms pass through it seems to spread, until speaking can seem a monumental task at times. No matter the urgency of what needs to be communicated. The windows heal as they move between areas, shutting out the worst of the wind and helping the damp to ease -- although the fireplaces are still a lost cause, for now at least, logs rife with damp and rot. The bleeding cracks in the walls seal over like scabs, pulse slowing within them and with it easing some of the anxiety it had been feeding guests. The shadows, though, are restless -- movements more distinctly autonomous as midnight wears on. It's almost as if they're incapable of staying still, flitting around guests when they stop and melting into darker areas to cloak themselves. Guests who stay still too long might find they're encouraged to keep moving in more drastic ways -- darkness flowing towards them and chasing them onward, almost seeming to whisper to them to hurry. But shadows cannot speak, of course. With the windows now sealed, and the cool breeze cut off, the temperature in the house quickly begins to rise. One might also find an Unnatural Servant sweeping through the house. They are beginning to tidy more of the rubble that is spread around, focusing their attentions on the Ballroom and the Third House. They are not to be disturbed from their work. In the centre of a table in the Parlour a paper crane rests askew, as if just waiting to take flight. It flutters away from those who reach for it that it does not trust, in fact, otherwise trusting the shadows surrounding the table to keep watch. In the Dining Room a game of cards has been laid out for the Wax Family. The boy does not return, though he too has been dealt a hand, but the family seems to have eased some of their hostility. The mother's blindfold has been removed, and she now holds it in her lap. They stare at the cards as if perplexed, the tension replaced by bemusement. Written language has begun to return to the house, though in part only. Books become clearer, easier to read, and the less quick form of communication of writing becomes more likely to be legible and understandable than the spoken word. Some books in the Library seem to be easier read than before, though not enough to make anything out. Every book in the Blank Library has been written in, a single identical phrase repeated on the top of the first page of each: "It will be alright."