allthekeys (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
allthekeys) wrote2011-10-07 11:05 pm
allthekeys) wrote2011-10-07 11:05 pm
Entry tags:
Night 002
As the day drifts towards dusk once again, things begin to happen. It is as though the house itself is preparing for nightfall.
A fire starts in the fireplace of the Parlor; it burns rather hotly, bright flames snaking up the chimney. It makes the Parlor rather warm, too warm for comfort. Anyone trying to investigate too closely will find that the air nearest the fireplace is scorching and painful to breathe, the risk for burns is high.
In the Ivory Bathroom, the tub turns on and begins to fill. By the time night falls, the water will overflow the sides and dampen the carpeting in the hall. The faucet will not turn off, nor can you find a plug to pull. Though the water starts off rather temperate, it soon becomes almost icy cold and somewhat brackish.
Anyone standing near the door at the end of the Maid’s Hallway will hear a baby crying, though trying the door will find it solidly locked. The baby will continue crying, desperate for some aid, until the clock begins to chime. Then the cries halt.
The clock chimes a familiar hour, and as the chimes sound the light begins to fade. The fireflies make their trek once more through the house, though anyone seeking to follow their path now that the stairs are open will find their hopes dashed. The fireflies vanish under the locked door in the Study and will not be seen again for the rest of the night.
Anyone listening at the door will hear only someone humming and the occasional lonely sob, but whoever resides in the room will not respond.
Night falls.
For the time it takes a heart to beat, the silence remains, a pregnant pause.
And then the construction begins again, distressingly loud and completely inescapable.
The formerly locked door at the end of the Maid’s Hallway unlocks and swings wide, revealing a gaping hole into the darkness of a new area.
The hellhounds once more return to the halls, hunting the injured. Anyone who gains a new injury in the house tonight will find themselves hunted by these creatures. Any injury occurring during the day, survived the night before, incurred by illness, or sustained before the person arrived in the house will not trigger the creatures.
The water in the Ivory Bathroom grows darker, the smell of salt heavy in the air. It’s as though someone has taken a small funnel and begun to pour the sea through it. As night falls, something moves within the water. A woman emerges from the bathroom, clothes fouled with sea rot and weed, salt caked and filthy. Her hair is short and sticks to her head in stiff curls. Water still dribbles from the corner of her mouth. One foot remains trapped in a rubber boot, sloshing with water. She stinks of fish and salt and rot, eyes white and glassy as she staggers. Like a thing that should not be living, should not be moving, and yet is somehow forced to continue. A salt darkened chain vanishes beneath her shirt. She will not leave the water darkened patch outside of the Ivory Bathroom.
In the Parlor the fire resolves itself into something almost human shaped, body slumped in a way that fire should never really move. To the heat of the Parlor is added the scent of burnt meat. Eyes watch anyone who passes through the hall, and anyone who lingers more than a moment will find that there really is a man in the fire. His voice is soft, almost gentle, but he will chase anyone who pauses to the boundaries of the room and try to touch them. He will not leave the Parlor, unless someone elsewhere in the house makes some sort of fire or heat, and then he will go to them.
In the Perfume Bedroom a beautiful woman has taken up residence, and the scent of the room has taken a visible form. She seems welcoming, looking up at anyone who enters the room and offering them a quiet smile as she brushes her hair. She looks as though she might be getting ready to go to a party. She seems easily approachable and quite willing to help anyone who comes to her, though the mist surrounding her is absolutely deadly.
Should anyone chance running past the Drowned Woman, they will find that the stairs, now quiet damp with water, lead down into what looks like a basement.
In the Basement resides what once was human, sex is impossible to determine with the shapeless hospital gown and lack of hair. From the condition of the ghost, and the remaining cuffs still clinging to its limbs, it seems as though someone got up and walked away from their own execution. Its hands are still arcing with residual energy, empty sockets where eyes once were now filled with sparks. The smell of burnt skin and hair fills the small area, though the creature itself makes no sound at all. Touching the sad, eyeless creature would likely be a bad idea. Though quick, the ghost will not follow you out of the area.
In the dank dirt hallways past the creature, nurses wait to guide the injured into the hospital wing, or perhaps to cause injuries to be tended. The Doctor is in. Neither he nor the nurses will leave the hospital area.
The Man In the Mirror once more haunts the Doll Bathroom, waiting to capture the unwary. He seems unusually active tonight, pacing in the confines of his prison and constantly tapping the glass. Whatever his concern is, approaching him is quite dangerous and will do little good.
In the Upstairs Hallway, two children have appeared, hands clasped together as they walk slowly from one end of the hall to the other. Anyone running through the hallway will need to contend with them. Anyone nearing the Trophy Room while the children are near it will hear the sound of chains, as though something lurks just behind the walls. But nothing makes itself known and the children do not seem to react. The children are young, five or six years old, and are dressed in ragged, patched clothes. They seem perfectly normal, perhaps the only indicator that there might be something wrong with these children is the fact that the boy has his eyes sewn shut, rendering him blind and the girl has her lips sewn shut. Someone has fashioned a belt around their hands to keep them from becoming lost from each other, though the cruel strap has bitten deep into tiny wrists, obviously out living its initial purpose.
The boy repeats a soft mantra of nursery rhymes; some familiar and some utterly alien, and swings the girl’s hand as they walk. The girl watches anyone who comes near to them, weeping silently. Should anyone pass to close to them making a lot of noise, the boy will shush them. Shushing results in the character being completely silence for one in game hour.
Another strange creature has entered the house, though it avoids the ghosts as quickly as the houseguests do. The ghosts do not seem to react to their presence. It most resembles a shark, somehow mated with a crocodile and given wings, and it moves effortlessly from wall to air to floor. These creatures hunt alone, creeping along the walls, and will pick off any unwary houseguest they can find alone. They are particularly taken with the injured and act very much like one would expect any hunter to act. The Hellhounds will step aside if they become involved with a potential kill, and wait until these creatures have eaten their fill before dragging a corpse away.
The safe rooms tonight are the Observatory, the Study and the Doctor’s Office, be cautious, guests, for safe places are few and far between.
For the sensitive, as your numbers grow, something lurks again just out of sight. It feels almost welcoming, though any attempts to follow it will prove fruitless, as it tends to lead to dead ends and locked doors. The night, despite the warmth of the parlor, has an uncanny chill and seems almost sad. As though something lost has been somehow forcibly returned.
For anyone looking, the bunny has vanished from the bed in the Yellow Bedroom and the photograph has vanished from the desk in the Study.
The bestiary has been updated with the new monsters haunting the halls. The Setting Post has been updated with the new area.
A fire starts in the fireplace of the Parlor; it burns rather hotly, bright flames snaking up the chimney. It makes the Parlor rather warm, too warm for comfort. Anyone trying to investigate too closely will find that the air nearest the fireplace is scorching and painful to breathe, the risk for burns is high.
In the Ivory Bathroom, the tub turns on and begins to fill. By the time night falls, the water will overflow the sides and dampen the carpeting in the hall. The faucet will not turn off, nor can you find a plug to pull. Though the water starts off rather temperate, it soon becomes almost icy cold and somewhat brackish.
Anyone standing near the door at the end of the Maid’s Hallway will hear a baby crying, though trying the door will find it solidly locked. The baby will continue crying, desperate for some aid, until the clock begins to chime. Then the cries halt.
The clock chimes a familiar hour, and as the chimes sound the light begins to fade. The fireflies make their trek once more through the house, though anyone seeking to follow their path now that the stairs are open will find their hopes dashed. The fireflies vanish under the locked door in the Study and will not be seen again for the rest of the night.
Anyone listening at the door will hear only someone humming and the occasional lonely sob, but whoever resides in the room will not respond.
Night falls.
For the time it takes a heart to beat, the silence remains, a pregnant pause.
And then the construction begins again, distressingly loud and completely inescapable.
The formerly locked door at the end of the Maid’s Hallway unlocks and swings wide, revealing a gaping hole into the darkness of a new area.
The hellhounds once more return to the halls, hunting the injured. Anyone who gains a new injury in the house tonight will find themselves hunted by these creatures. Any injury occurring during the day, survived the night before, incurred by illness, or sustained before the person arrived in the house will not trigger the creatures.
The water in the Ivory Bathroom grows darker, the smell of salt heavy in the air. It’s as though someone has taken a small funnel and begun to pour the sea through it. As night falls, something moves within the water. A woman emerges from the bathroom, clothes fouled with sea rot and weed, salt caked and filthy. Her hair is short and sticks to her head in stiff curls. Water still dribbles from the corner of her mouth. One foot remains trapped in a rubber boot, sloshing with water. She stinks of fish and salt and rot, eyes white and glassy as she staggers. Like a thing that should not be living, should not be moving, and yet is somehow forced to continue. A salt darkened chain vanishes beneath her shirt. She will not leave the water darkened patch outside of the Ivory Bathroom.
In the Parlor the fire resolves itself into something almost human shaped, body slumped in a way that fire should never really move. To the heat of the Parlor is added the scent of burnt meat. Eyes watch anyone who passes through the hall, and anyone who lingers more than a moment will find that there really is a man in the fire. His voice is soft, almost gentle, but he will chase anyone who pauses to the boundaries of the room and try to touch them. He will not leave the Parlor, unless someone elsewhere in the house makes some sort of fire or heat, and then he will go to them.
In the Perfume Bedroom a beautiful woman has taken up residence, and the scent of the room has taken a visible form. She seems welcoming, looking up at anyone who enters the room and offering them a quiet smile as she brushes her hair. She looks as though she might be getting ready to go to a party. She seems easily approachable and quite willing to help anyone who comes to her, though the mist surrounding her is absolutely deadly.
Should anyone chance running past the Drowned Woman, they will find that the stairs, now quiet damp with water, lead down into what looks like a basement.
In the Basement resides what once was human, sex is impossible to determine with the shapeless hospital gown and lack of hair. From the condition of the ghost, and the remaining cuffs still clinging to its limbs, it seems as though someone got up and walked away from their own execution. Its hands are still arcing with residual energy, empty sockets where eyes once were now filled with sparks. The smell of burnt skin and hair fills the small area, though the creature itself makes no sound at all. Touching the sad, eyeless creature would likely be a bad idea. Though quick, the ghost will not follow you out of the area.
In the dank dirt hallways past the creature, nurses wait to guide the injured into the hospital wing, or perhaps to cause injuries to be tended. The Doctor is in. Neither he nor the nurses will leave the hospital area.
The Man In the Mirror once more haunts the Doll Bathroom, waiting to capture the unwary. He seems unusually active tonight, pacing in the confines of his prison and constantly tapping the glass. Whatever his concern is, approaching him is quite dangerous and will do little good.
In the Upstairs Hallway, two children have appeared, hands clasped together as they walk slowly from one end of the hall to the other. Anyone running through the hallway will need to contend with them. Anyone nearing the Trophy Room while the children are near it will hear the sound of chains, as though something lurks just behind the walls. But nothing makes itself known and the children do not seem to react. The children are young, five or six years old, and are dressed in ragged, patched clothes. They seem perfectly normal, perhaps the only indicator that there might be something wrong with these children is the fact that the boy has his eyes sewn shut, rendering him blind and the girl has her lips sewn shut. Someone has fashioned a belt around their hands to keep them from becoming lost from each other, though the cruel strap has bitten deep into tiny wrists, obviously out living its initial purpose.
The boy repeats a soft mantra of nursery rhymes; some familiar and some utterly alien, and swings the girl’s hand as they walk. The girl watches anyone who comes near to them, weeping silently. Should anyone pass to close to them making a lot of noise, the boy will shush them. Shushing results in the character being completely silence for one in game hour.
Another strange creature has entered the house, though it avoids the ghosts as quickly as the houseguests do. The ghosts do not seem to react to their presence. It most resembles a shark, somehow mated with a crocodile and given wings, and it moves effortlessly from wall to air to floor. These creatures hunt alone, creeping along the walls, and will pick off any unwary houseguest they can find alone. They are particularly taken with the injured and act very much like one would expect any hunter to act. The Hellhounds will step aside if they become involved with a potential kill, and wait until these creatures have eaten their fill before dragging a corpse away.
The safe rooms tonight are the Observatory, the Study and the Doctor’s Office, be cautious, guests, for safe places are few and far between.
For the sensitive, as your numbers grow, something lurks again just out of sight. It feels almost welcoming, though any attempts to follow it will prove fruitless, as it tends to lead to dead ends and locked doors. The night, despite the warmth of the parlor, has an uncanny chill and seems almost sad. As though something lost has been somehow forcibly returned.
For anyone looking, the bunny has vanished from the bed in the Yellow Bedroom and the photograph has vanished from the desk in the Study.
The bestiary has been updated with the new monsters haunting the halls. The Setting Post has been updated with the new area.