Day 043

[allthekeys]

|| Day 043: GENERAL The clock groans and squeals as "day" approaches, though the sun still sits impossibly low on the skyline. A prickle of energy fills the air, the same energy that came from the children at nightfall. Easy to ignore at first, the houseguests will soon feel their scalps prickle; their limbs go numb as the energy surges through them. As the clock sounds a single, sonorous chime, they will feel it. The vibrations of it sink into the tiny bones of their ears. The world lurches with the sound, a light so bright it burns their eyes surging through the house. When the after effects clear, they will find themselves standing in the Ballroom it is completely undamaged, the floor pristine and the sun just peeking over the horizon. The bugs are gone, as are the plants that have invaded the house. There is no trace of the puddles of water, the mould in the basement or the creature in the hall. Everything seems to be as it was before the lantern shattered. Claire and Jacob have reappeared, standing next to their guardians, but the other two children are still missing. Both children look entirely confused and seem to be having some trouble with their memory, not quite able to articulate what is wrong, just clinging to Thancred and Abi for comfort. As the houseguests mill about the Ballroom the door at the far end pushes open a small crack, admitting a dark haired child of perhaps six or seven with braids down her back, wearing overalls. She shouts over her shoulder for someone to wait a second and then gapes, somewhat alarmed at the houseguests before she runs away. She is unfamiliar to everyone in the house. She and the recognizable form of the Photographer’s Ghost can be found in the Blue Kitchen, though that has reverted to its undamaged state. The ghost appears to be alive and does not give any indication that he recognizes any of them. Anything the houseguests were not carrying with them is no longer in the rooms they have claimed, though food, water and supplies are abundant. The doors to the Student Bedroom and the Velvet Bedroom are both locked, as is the door to the Priest’s Study and the Catacombs. The path to the Fifth House is shrouded in a dense, heavy fog that confuses those that try to enter it. The Trophy Room has returned to its former state, nothing at all amiss within it, and the air holds a faint, unfamiliar chill to it. A far contrast from the heat they had been experiencing. Those examining their surroundings may find some things seem subtly off. There are fewer scratches and signs of wear throughout the house. Varnish on wood seems newly dried and settled, carpets are clean and fresh, glass is clear and clean without cracks or chips. The Mirror Bedroom is intact, all the glass whole and clean; the room still has an unnerving sense of being watched, but is pristine. Guests who had rearranged rooms, settled into them, or left marks will find all of that missing; the places they had stayed are free of any sign of their presence. Signs and markers are similarly gone. Those who have been in the house for more than four House days or who have had any consistent or involved interactions with the NPCs will find themselves struck with nagging deja'vu; there is a simultaneous feeling of displacement and familiarity to it that is stronger the closer the connections they had formed here. Guests with watches, pocket watches, phones with clocks, and any other way to tell time on their person will find them acting oddly. Mechanical clocks will periodically rewind themselves backwards, then reverse back to keeping normal time, eventually erratically running too fast before stopping and restarting the cycle; digital clocks will simply display gibberish, sometimes as if there's a problem with the display, others as if it's attempting to output symbols not in the device's vocabulary. The only other living creature in any of the houses appears to be Dave, tending his bar. He chats easily with anyone who comes to see him. Someone has left a little stuffed monkey in the chair in the Study as well as a fistful of wilting flowers that were obviously not well looked after before they were left. The room seems to be full of a melancholy longing, palpable to those who enter. There is often a faint creak, as though something heavy hangs from the supporting beam of this otherwise tidy office. But there appears to be nothing, only a cold and somewhat empty room. The Nursery is stuffed with flats of canned goods and bottled water, though the bottommost cans are covered in a fine layer of dust. Supplies fill the crib, and it is clear that no baby has lain here for quite some time. It seems recently used, and like those that left it will soon be coming back. The Library sports a few more empty shelves than those who have been here before remember. The wood seems newer, as well, as though the shelves have only just been put up. Someone has left a journal sitting on one of the tables. The writing seems to be trying to make sense of the night cycle, and there is some rather mangled rambling about the moon cycle and its relation to events in the house. The roses in the Rose Garden seem smaller, more newly planted than the rest of the house, though they drip with petals. The stone at the base of the bird bath is gone. The Chapel itself seems different than those who have been here before remembered. The pews are smaller, more basic creations, and it lacks the palpable air of disquiet that often chases people through. The room where the priest’s office would normally be is a simple room with sparse furnishing and little more than parchment and pen, as well as a well tended bible. There is nothing to indicate that the man who kept this office was anything more than a simple man of the cloth. As the guests begin to move away from each other, or perhaps while they stand confused in the ballroom, they will find that they each have something small in their pocket. A small, white envelope, each addressed with a neat hand to the person who finds it in their pocket. Each note reads exactly the same, the handwriting spidery and graceful on the paper. Dearest, Though we have tried our best to overcome the challenges set before us, we have instead become overcome by them. I give you my last, as that alone might save you. Have courage, remain true, and do not fear. The path to the future can only be found if you look within yourself and find the keys. Love, L. Within the envelope is a small silver ring, sized so that it fits each person who has read the note. The glow around those chosen by the lantern has dimmed, though those who are afflicted with it will notice that it has not gone away if they enter a dark area. There is no sign of the snow and flooding, or the extreme heat; the temperature is comfortable, with a faint bite of cold to the air in passing. While what plants can be found seem to be past blooming, the leaves of trees outside beginning to turn colours. The trees in the Orchard are full of ripe apples, leaves beginning to fall and fruit hanging low enough to pick. Aside from their forced gathering, nothing seems to be amiss in the house. The faint tick of the clock proves that even it has returned to its normal state. It is as though nothing has ever happened.