Day 040

[allthekeys]

|| Day 040: GENERAL As the Clock chimes the dawn, the sound resonates through the house; each chime is irregularly paced, one coming while other still echoes while a noticeable dead space waits for the next. This irregularity continues with its movements and the sound of its mechanisms, no stable pattern to the ticking; any Guest that has died within the house will find it infecting any timepieces they carry, watch hands unsteadily jittering, while electronic readouts have uneven pauses with the digits replaced with unreadable symbols. The uneven sound also heralds a temporary paralysis; while those that had a past death collapse into slumber, everyone else within the House finds themselves unable to move. The Phantasms pass through the halls in silent procession, gathering the various monsters and creatures into a herded pack between them; the macabre parade is accompanied by agitated pacing and strangled noises from the creatures, who nonetheless make no movement to attempt escape. As they pass by any new guests that have not yet been marked, one steps aside, taking a moment to neatly tattoo one of the inscrutable marks on the inside of one of the guest’s forearms. As the last sounds of the chimes fade out, they disappear beyond the basement doors. For all those who had previously died, they will find themselves falling asleep a little before nightfall; when they wake, they will find themselves in the Attic of the First House, with a thick layer of dust settled over them. They are unharmed and uninjured, restored to good health, although they will find themselves feeling stiff and heavy for the first part of the day, with brighter lights or louder sounds harsher on their eyes and ears than normal. Some of them may find new scars reflecting deaths that had not previously left a lasting mark. While they will have no clear memory of it, there is a dim impression of dreaming while they were unconscious, indistinct impressions of being touched with many voices speaking to them, coaxing, although whatever was said is lost in the haze of the dream. The light through the windows is dim; any view of what’s beyond seems obscured, as clouds and falling snow have turned the world a spread of indeterminate white. The view is further obscured by a layer of ice forming on the windows, thick enough to distort what can be seen and further turn it into a blur of gleaming white. The snow is drifting deep in outdoor areas, beginning to grow thick enough that the ground cannot be seen; while there’s signs of some attempts at keeping it manageable on paths running between buildings and areas, off those paths, guests will find themselves walking on a thickened crust over the snow - one that may give way and leave them a few feet deep in snow for those heavier or anyone making rougher movements on it. Frost and ice have further formed on any standing structures that come up above the snow, making parts of the Bridge between Fourth and Fifth house treacherous. The Open Hallway in Second House has snowdrifts piled up a few feet on either side, the path carved out of them. Within the Houses, the temperature has dropped slightly, enough to be uncomfortably cold for those not dressed warmly. The fires in all of the fireplaces are still alive today, though fading fast and don’t seem as though they’ll last past the morning hours. They flicker in the dim light, providing their own glow to light the way of the weary travellers in the house. Their warmth seems faded, somehow, and it is necessary to come very close to them to feel the benefit of an escape from the cold of the house. It's strange though. Somehow, they really do feel alive. While the Mirrors have ceased their activity, any who pass them will feel an uneasy sense of being watched; occasionally guests will hear a faint tapping from mirrors across the room, although there is no sign of the source on closer inspection. The glass dogs are still out today, seemingly enjoying the snow but never quite at ease. There are plenty of warning calls between them that can be heard if you're close enough, giving the bleak atmosphere an even more haunting edge. For anybody paying attention outside, the cause of this is clear enough - the feral deer remain out for the day as well, soaring high overhead but on occasion diving down towards the glass dogs to hunt them, causing them to momentarily scatter and snarl. Wandering the premises tonight is the feral deer that was killed during the night, inexplicably alive and appearing quite anxious. Its wings are still missing and the cuts that robbed the deer of them are as messy as they must have been when the animal was freshly dead or even still alive - while precise, they seem rather harsh, and there's blood and pus coming from the flesh that surrounds the poor animal with a sickly smell. Unused to its surroundings, it on occasion confuses itself into the houses themselves, its hooves echoing through the halls with a rather hollow sound. While hostile and far from harmless if cornered, the deer seems mostly interested in trying to find its way back to its herd, but is obviously unable to reach them. The overgrowth in the Greenhouse is still there, the plants stretching their way upwards despite the lack of light. While there's still an element of hostility to the vegetation it seems pacified by the cold and might prove an unexpected reprieve for many; in places, particularly against the walls, the plants form surprisingly effective shelters against the snow where they've grown high and thick enough to block out some of the snowfall. The soft sound of music occasionally wafts from the trees in the Greenhouse, though the player is rarely visible, and is hooded from view the few times he is seen. Still, the Crows give ample evidence as to who he is, the largest perched on his shoulder, and the smallest tucked carefully in a sling about his chest. The birds dart among the branches, playing a game with the snow that has collected on the trees during the night, utterly soaking each other as the game progresses. Occasionally they will pause and chuckle a counterpoint to the music, but mostly they seem content to play in the upper reaches of the branches, the heavy growth mostly hiding them from view. Beneath the heavy branches, the flickering light of a candle can occasionally be seen, though it does little to cut the chill of the morning. As soon as anyone begins to descend the stairs to the basement in the first house, they will become aware of a deep whirring noise coming from the basement itself. The sound is faint at first, but quickly grows in timbre until it seems almost deafening at the bottom of the stairs. As the guest leaves the last step, the noise suddenly stops. There roses in the Ballroom have twisted during the night, vines twining together until they form a rather odd looking chair. Blooms feather out at irregular intervals, filling the air with a rotten stench that does not belong there at all. Blood seeps from the thorns, dripping down to the floor, and something within the tangle of branches glows with a sickly, nauseating heat. It pulses, almost like a heartbeat, as the chair continued to twist and bend. By midday, it will reveal itself as what it is, a twisted throne made of roses and vines. Twisted, misshapen, and very uncomfortable it nonetheless seems that anyone sitting in the throne would be able to see the entire ballroom. Something weeps within the room, though it remains invisible. Its cries are unsteady, fading to whimpers at times, and rising to loud, body shaking sobs at others. No amount of searching will reveal the weeper. Lily and Shion do not wish to enter this room. No child will feel comfortable there. The Theater is quiet, but a sense of presence remains within it. Rats scuttle on nearly silent paws beneath the rows of chairs. The curtains on the stage bulge out as though something moves behind them, but pulling them aside reveals only a gust of cold air, and the briefest sensation of someone else’s amusement invading their minds. A flickering light appears and disappears on the top of the pile of props, but its source remains well out of sight, with only the faintest clicking noise to indicate that there is a cause. There is the muffled sound of a struggle coming from the Pool Room. At first the sound is indistinct but it quickly becomes apparent that it is the muffled sound of screaming and pounding. The entire surface of the pool has frozen over in a thick layer of ice, preventing the woman inside from getting out. She hammers her fists on the inside of the murky surface, the fogged image of her face desperate in its fear and pain. No amount of hammering on the ice from either side will set the woman free. Someone is laying on the bed in the Blind Bedroom. The door is locked, and the figure can only be seen if someone peers through the windows. The figure doesn’t move, but the blankets seem to be bulging unnaturally around their legs. They keep their head turned aside, face hidden in the pillow. Their hair is dark, but the visible skin is pale. They do not respond to any attempts to gain their attention. The water is on in the shower in the Open Bathroom though the door is locked and nothing is visible in the room. The glass is fogged and moist heat pushes its way under the door, leaving frost on the floor outside the door. The Priest's Study has its door solidly locked, unbudging to any blow or attempt at opening it. Occasionally a voice can be heard from within, one familiar to any who have encountered the priest, agitated mumbling in an unfamiliar language. The Chapel is empty, but the candles around the altar burn brightly; the seats of the pews seem warm, as if they had just recently been occupied, and those passing through may hear snatches of voices, too low to hear. Someone has been gathering food in the Rough Kitchen, there are herbs hung near the fire to dry, and mushrooms laid out, some still cold to the touch. A bundle of lavender flowers and fresh smelling herbs has been neatly made and placed on the table, though moving the bundle will cause something within to crackle. Anyone unwrapping it will find a small folded packet of paper with "Sam" written in neat script on the front. The inside of the paper is blank. Calem lays curled on the bed in the Silk Bedroom, his head resting on Hana's lap. He is not dressed for the weather, his skin prickled with cold despite her attempts to cover him. Both the lovers sleep, and nothing will wake them. Whatever had frightened Hana in the Velvet Bedroom is gone. The room, however, still feels as though there is something in it, though nothing can be seen. In the Seedy Bar, a spread has been laid out with hot drinks and warm, hearty food; sliced hams, pies and pastries with candied fruit, fresh bread and simple dishes from other worlds guests might recognize, as well as a few trays of candied preserved fruit and confections. A table to one side has winter clothes laid out, plain and comfortable; anyone in need of something to ward off the cold will find something in their size. The barkeep has gained two sets of other hands helping tend the spread; the Baker and the Candy Maker have claimed a booth near the tables, and spend the day split between tending to the spread of food and treats and sitting close together on one side. The lake has frozen over. The ice doesn't seem particularly strong, but anybody brave enough to try to walk on it on the very edges of the lake can do so with relative safety. Throughout the day, however, cracks slowly start to appear in the ice, spiderwebbing their way over its surface from a few points surrounding the centre of the lake. Anybody paying careful attention might see the ice shift very subtly as the day goes on until it finally breaks open in those few places, leaving fractured holes that show the black, cold water beneath. The stench of decay and death lingers in the Den, although mercifully, it's nowhere near as strong as it was during the night when the carnage in this room took place. There's a darkly dried pool of blood on the floor, much of the furniture is broken or knocked over, and there are pieces of bone to be readily found, covered in scratches and teeth marks.