Night 028

[allthekeys]

|| GO TO FIRST HOUSE ♦ || GO TO SECOND HOUSE ♦ || GO TO THIRD HOUSE ♦ || GO TO FOURTH HOUSE

|| NIGHT 028: GENERAL As night falls the temperature drops dramatically, leaving even those near the fire shivering with cold. Almost anti-climatically, they will find themselves falling asleep. When they wake, it will be to discover that the fires in much of the house have gone out and require tending. The mysterious maids who looked after them during the day will not appear again. Anyone who wishes to enjoy heat will need to tend the fires themselves. It's so easy to become tired in the cold. It is hard to muster up the energy to do much, sometimes, with the way that the cold imposes upon everyone in the house. There is no compulsion, nor weighing desire; simply the fact of cold and a long, long night. It would be so much nicer to curl up under warm blankets and just let the night pass them by. It would be so much easier to simply sleep. Some of the house-guests will find that something had changed while they slept, though there is little indication to the cause. America, Ben, Castiel, Emily, Hawke, Heather, Rei, Rin, Sam, Sammie and Soubi will wake to discover that someone has written on their bodies while they slept. The ink has not yet dried, but it seems to be nothing but ink. The writing has also been added around Kuja and Mercury, placed a careful distance from their bodies as though it cannot get any closer to them. The writing is all scribed in the same hand, and the words are invariably similar, though in different places on each person. "What was born in fire can be killed in fire. Cut off the head, burn the stump. Tie ropes around the limbs and pull them taunt. Salt the ashes. Bleed her out until she's dry, then put a stake through her heart." Over each person's heart are the words "Kill her." written with enough force to leave a red mark on the skin. The ink drying is incredibly itchy, though it seems to cause no harm to them, and can be easily scrubbed off. Although the writing extends beneath their clothing, their clothes have not been rearranged or removed. Nothing seems to be out of place. The storm outside has shut them into the house, making it difficult to go into any of the outside areas. The Open Hallway has been turned into a snow tunnel making a narrow but protected corridor. The walls are slick and hard packed, but the ground had been stripped almost to the stone beneath, making the footing only occasionally treacherous. Someone has done the same in the Courtyard outside the Rough Kitchen allowing for passage to the Third House. The snow fall is visible through the Floating Hall, though little else is clear beyond it. The houses have been surrounded by a blizzard, leaving them mostly buried in the continuing fall. In all Mirrors the house-guests will see the shadow of something following them. If they are alone, they will be able to hear the soft sound of something tapping on the other side of the glass, chasing them wherever the mirrors can see. The noise is constant for those who wander off alone, but the figure in the glass never appears fully. No matter how they run, they cannot escape. The Hellhounds seem too cold to be properly aggressive tonight, and many can be found curled up in warm piles around the houses. They will snarl and snap if disturbed, but do not seem willing to leave the warmth they have found. This makes them mostly safe tonight, though something grumpy. They are friendly to those who have been taken by the Phantasms, but will not leave their packmates, even for the company of their friends. The Glass Dogs have found their way into the houses, travelling mostly between the second and fourth, and lounging outdoors where the opportunity arises. The animals are at home in the cold, their paws flaking ice as they walk through the winter air permeating the building. They are largely passive, ignoring anyone who does not make too much noise or moves, but they are startled, and threatened, easily. Anyone who crosses them will regret infringing upon the new found territory: they are quick to defend it with tooth and claw. In the corners of the darkest halls the flap of leathery wings can be heard, creaking bones and the faintest sound of claws scratching across wood. The Hunters are slower than normal tonight, almost lethargic from the cold, but no less deadly. They are intent on their prey and relentless, stalking through the halls to seize upon anyone who isn't fast enough to return to the light.