![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Scarcely minutes before noon arrives, all of the clocks in the house begin to turn back. Slowly, they drag backwards a full five minutes. Simultaneously, a blast of insufferable heat fills the air, stifling and oppressive. The sticky warmth rescinds as the time is recovered.
As the chimes of noon begin to ring throughout the house, the baby Nicholas begins to cry.
Within an instant, the sound of a door slamming open in the basement can be heard, echoing throughout the house, in spite of any distance. It only takes one long, drawn out moment before the door creaks, and closes just as forcefully. All with the red cords will feel a faint tug on the other end.
The Rats have remained in only the highest locations of the house, but have become even more difficult to spot. Occasionally a shadow of movement between objects on a shelf, the disappearing of a tail, can be seen. The only indicator of their presence in most rooms is the quiet chattering that has begun, like a conference of the rodents, just barely audible in any room where they come close to the house guests.
Another doll has appeared to join the party in the Day Room, perched just next to the first. Its hands are held cupped between its porcelain lips and the ear of the other. The faint sound of giggling can occasionally be heard, but it is impossible to make out any words. The standing mannequin has disappeared once again, leaving its companion, and has been replaced by a statue from the Statuary, facing the Cherry Hallway. The seated mannequin now too holds a knife in its lap, yet it is currently perfectly clean and free from any marring.
Castiel, Charles, Eight, Glenn, Jack, Mello, Ten/Data Heartless, Ulquiorra find themselves drifting, not quite to sleep, but to a moment of unwariness, if only for a brief second. When they revive from their interlude, there is a plastic bracelet marking each of them. It is impossible to remove.
Agito, Bobby, James, Leon, Luke, Niall, and Raven will at this time feel a strange tugging in their stomachs. Not unlike nausea, but decidedly more physical. The peculiar stirring lasts only for as long as the chimes of the clock, and then their innards seem to still once again.
As the chimes of noon begin to ring throughout the house, the baby Nicholas begins to cry.
Within an instant, the sound of a door slamming open in the basement can be heard, echoing throughout the house, in spite of any distance. It only takes one long, drawn out moment before the door creaks, and closes just as forcefully. All with the red cords will feel a faint tug on the other end.
The Rats have remained in only the highest locations of the house, but have become even more difficult to spot. Occasionally a shadow of movement between objects on a shelf, the disappearing of a tail, can be seen. The only indicator of their presence in most rooms is the quiet chattering that has begun, like a conference of the rodents, just barely audible in any room where they come close to the house guests.
Another doll has appeared to join the party in the Day Room, perched just next to the first. Its hands are held cupped between its porcelain lips and the ear of the other. The faint sound of giggling can occasionally be heard, but it is impossible to make out any words. The standing mannequin has disappeared once again, leaving its companion, and has been replaced by a statue from the Statuary, facing the Cherry Hallway. The seated mannequin now too holds a knife in its lap, yet it is currently perfectly clean and free from any marring.
Castiel, Charles, Eight, Glenn, Jack, Mello, Ten/Data Heartless, Ulquiorra find themselves drifting, not quite to sleep, but to a moment of unwariness, if only for a brief second. When they revive from their interlude, there is a plastic bracelet marking each of them. It is impossible to remove.
Agito, Bobby, James, Leon, Luke, Niall, and Raven will at this time feel a strange tugging in their stomachs. Not unlike nausea, but decidedly more physical. The peculiar stirring lasts only for as long as the chimes of the clock, and then their innards seem to still once again.
As the clock begins to chime the bells in the tower begin to join in, ringing with more enthusiasm than is warranted for the early hour of dawn. Those within the house begin to feel a familiar sense of lethargy grip them, and those within the event might notice a white mist beginning to drift under their doors. No matter their location, the end result is the same: everyone in the house falls asleep.
A dream quickly overtakes them, bringing with it a sense that something is wrong which that refuses to fade from any sensitive in the house. Urgency swallows them, rushed and desperate, completely consuming any other emotions.
He had to get there, had to. There wasn't a single moment to spare.
There was a muffled sound of pain, an utterance of a beloved name he barely heard, and then his hand was wrapping around it too.
Skin burns on contact, sizzling with the brush against the heat, boiling and bubbling. He didn't let go, even as the unimaginable pain seared up his arm and into his shoulder. The loss of a hand or the loss of one he loved? Ah, what a choice; he couldn’t make it, he could only act.
"LIAM!" The woman's voice cut through the rushing noise in his head, the foggy thoughtless feeling that was trying to overtake him. Who? Later, later, they had to protect her. That was why they had gotten in the way. Had to protect them.
"Let go of it! Drop it, just don't! No!" Nothing made sense, no words, no actions. Nothing made sense.
That beloved face, formerly so animated, eyes gone glassy and face gone slack.
"No!"
Something cracked, clattered, crashed.
There was a rush of heat and light and sound.
He lost his grip.
"NO!"
The desperation fades for a sense of sadness, and as they sleep they see their missing friends, each being carried by something they cannot see. The creatures carrying them seem full of regret, and an unwillingnesses to leave them. On occasion, one seems to catch movement, as though not everything in the house sleeps.
Some might have the odd sense that they saw themselves as the dream fades to blackness once more.
Each sleeper will feel the lap of water against their feet, the smell of salt and sun-warmed rock heavy in their senses. A surge of absolute contentment rushes over each of them, as their hand moves over a sheet of paper, mapping the sea they see before them. Heat permeates their bones, leaving everyone in the house feeling warm and happy. It is not enthusiasm, simply a quiet sense of pleasure that will stay with them the rest of the day. The sense of satisfaction creeps into unguarded moments and seems to encourage indulgence in hobbies.
For today, the pervasive cold that has so often overtaken the sensitive is also missing. Everyone in the house remains caught in the dreamer’s warmth long after they wake.
As they wake, it is to find that the missing have been safely returned, many left with packages and items of interest. Each person who was in the event will also wake to their own clothes neatly folded and mended and clean sitting next to them.
All Sensitives will wake up covered in blood. The blood is still warm, and smells fresh. The amount varies from person to person, some will only have blood upon their hands, while others will find themselves completely coated, slick with the red substance. The only clue they might have to the reason that some are more covered than others seems to be the degree of sensitivity, with those who are stronger being practically drenched and those who are weaker barely touched.
Where the blood came from seems difficult to tell, but someone has used it to write all over the walls. The phrases are repeated throughout the house, words varying in size and height. "Help me." "They're Coming." "Please." "I Don’t Want To Die." Over and over again, the words repeated endlessly across the walls.
The light of day makes the Open Hallway brighter, and the bars clearly visible. The crow has not vanished from the perch at the top of the hallway. It simply watches those that walk beneath it. A closer look reveals that the occasional oddly colored feather. The footprints lead into the Rose Garden, though thickening snow has half obscured them by this point. There seems to be nowhere they might have gone, though from tiny, clawed prints, it is apparent that the crow has also investigated them at some point.
Someone has made breakfast in the Rough Kitchen. The counter has been covered in steaming pies full of meat and vegetables. The pies are very filling and smell absolutely amazing, luring anyone who explores the wing into the room. Fresh bread, hard cheeses, and dried meat have also been laid out for the house guests to enjoy, though there seems to be a disappointing lack of fresh fruit.
The tea party in the Day Room is still going on, though those involved have changed position slightly. Another Mannequin has appeared, standing just next to the one sitting as though waiting for orders. The frog has canted itself slightly to the side, staring down the Floating Hallway. The doll sits in the same position and, though at first it would be easy to miss, now has a blood stained knife sitting across her lap.
Those who have earned the dolls ire during the night will wake with one of the creatures watching them, and though it seems impossible, the doll follows them where ever they go.
Anyone who has met Lock will wake with the vague memory of him leaning over them as they slept, frowning very slightly. He seems strange to those who know him, and his movements seem almost alien, unnaturally at odds with his normal appearance. He is gone from the house when they wake up fully, and nothing but the memory of his presence indicates that he was there at all.
In the Study someone has left a note on the desk. "Matches, don't touch the dolls and stay out of the basement." The note seems to trail off, as though someone had begun a proper letter and forgot what they were writing halfway through it. A smudge of blood shows where the parchment was held between dirty fingers. A string of the strange symbols follows, flowing down in neat lines of script, exact in their detail. But nothing can be told from them, and of the writer, there is no sign.
The Rats remain within the house, though it no longer seems that the furniture is enough protection from whatever they fear. They will be found in high places in the house, tucked away on shelves and peering down at the house guests.
The sound of humming still lingers in the Doll Bathroom and the dolls have not returned to their shelves. The bathroom seems normal, at least for the moment.
Any child under the age of ten will wake with one of the frog toys from the basement cradled to their chests. The creatures seem almost living, and are very warm in the chill of the house. They will remain with the child that wakes with them no matter how deftly the child attempts to lose them.
( Event update )
((ooc: It's that time again, kids. Those who wish to sign up for experiments respond to this entry! Remember that you can only sign up one character and preference will be given to those who haven’t gone before! This event is not mandatory and will include physical, mental, and/or emotional damage. Everyone will have a say in what happens to their characters, the entire event will have a general squick warning. We will draw for seven names at the end of next week so we have time to plan for the participants. All participants will be chosen via RNG! Good luck everyone! And just a reminder that backtagging the event is more than welcome! If you have any questions about it, feel free to drop us a line to ask.))
A dream quickly overtakes them, bringing with it a sense that something is wrong which that refuses to fade from any sensitive in the house. Urgency swallows them, rushed and desperate, completely consuming any other emotions.
He had to get there, had to. There wasn't a single moment to spare.
There was a muffled sound of pain, an utterance of a beloved name he barely heard, and then his hand was wrapping around it too.
Skin burns on contact, sizzling with the brush against the heat, boiling and bubbling. He didn't let go, even as the unimaginable pain seared up his arm and into his shoulder. The loss of a hand or the loss of one he loved? Ah, what a choice; he couldn’t make it, he could only act.
"LIAM!" The woman's voice cut through the rushing noise in his head, the foggy thoughtless feeling that was trying to overtake him. Who? Later, later, they had to protect her. That was why they had gotten in the way. Had to protect them.
"Let go of it! Drop it, just don't! No!" Nothing made sense, no words, no actions. Nothing made sense.
That beloved face, formerly so animated, eyes gone glassy and face gone slack.
"No!"
Something cracked, clattered, crashed.
There was a rush of heat and light and sound.
He lost his grip.
"NO!"
The desperation fades for a sense of sadness, and as they sleep they see their missing friends, each being carried by something they cannot see. The creatures carrying them seem full of regret, and an unwillingnesses to leave them. On occasion, one seems to catch movement, as though not everything in the house sleeps.
Some might have the odd sense that they saw themselves as the dream fades to blackness once more.
Each sleeper will feel the lap of water against their feet, the smell of salt and sun-warmed rock heavy in their senses. A surge of absolute contentment rushes over each of them, as their hand moves over a sheet of paper, mapping the sea they see before them. Heat permeates their bones, leaving everyone in the house feeling warm and happy. It is not enthusiasm, simply a quiet sense of pleasure that will stay with them the rest of the day. The sense of satisfaction creeps into unguarded moments and seems to encourage indulgence in hobbies.
For today, the pervasive cold that has so often overtaken the sensitive is also missing. Everyone in the house remains caught in the dreamer’s warmth long after they wake.
As they wake, it is to find that the missing have been safely returned, many left with packages and items of interest. Each person who was in the event will also wake to their own clothes neatly folded and mended and clean sitting next to them.
All Sensitives will wake up covered in blood. The blood is still warm, and smells fresh. The amount varies from person to person, some will only have blood upon their hands, while others will find themselves completely coated, slick with the red substance. The only clue they might have to the reason that some are more covered than others seems to be the degree of sensitivity, with those who are stronger being practically drenched and those who are weaker barely touched.
Where the blood came from seems difficult to tell, but someone has used it to write all over the walls. The phrases are repeated throughout the house, words varying in size and height. "Help me." "They're Coming." "Please." "I Don’t Want To Die." Over and over again, the words repeated endlessly across the walls.
The light of day makes the Open Hallway brighter, and the bars clearly visible. The crow has not vanished from the perch at the top of the hallway. It simply watches those that walk beneath it. A closer look reveals that the occasional oddly colored feather. The footprints lead into the Rose Garden, though thickening snow has half obscured them by this point. There seems to be nowhere they might have gone, though from tiny, clawed prints, it is apparent that the crow has also investigated them at some point.
Someone has made breakfast in the Rough Kitchen. The counter has been covered in steaming pies full of meat and vegetables. The pies are very filling and smell absolutely amazing, luring anyone who explores the wing into the room. Fresh bread, hard cheeses, and dried meat have also been laid out for the house guests to enjoy, though there seems to be a disappointing lack of fresh fruit.
The tea party in the Day Room is still going on, though those involved have changed position slightly. Another Mannequin has appeared, standing just next to the one sitting as though waiting for orders. The frog has canted itself slightly to the side, staring down the Floating Hallway. The doll sits in the same position and, though at first it would be easy to miss, now has a blood stained knife sitting across her lap.
Those who have earned the dolls ire during the night will wake with one of the creatures watching them, and though it seems impossible, the doll follows them where ever they go.
Anyone who has met Lock will wake with the vague memory of him leaning over them as they slept, frowning very slightly. He seems strange to those who know him, and his movements seem almost alien, unnaturally at odds with his normal appearance. He is gone from the house when they wake up fully, and nothing but the memory of his presence indicates that he was there at all.
In the Study someone has left a note on the desk. "Matches, don't touch the dolls and stay out of the basement." The note seems to trail off, as though someone had begun a proper letter and forgot what they were writing halfway through it. A smudge of blood shows where the parchment was held between dirty fingers. A string of the strange symbols follows, flowing down in neat lines of script, exact in their detail. But nothing can be told from them, and of the writer, there is no sign.
The Rats remain within the house, though it no longer seems that the furniture is enough protection from whatever they fear. They will be found in high places in the house, tucked away on shelves and peering down at the house guests.
The sound of humming still lingers in the Doll Bathroom and the dolls have not returned to their shelves. The bathroom seems normal, at least for the moment.
Any child under the age of ten will wake with one of the frog toys from the basement cradled to their chests. The creatures seem almost living, and are very warm in the chill of the house. They will remain with the child that wakes with them no matter how deftly the child attempts to lose them.
( Event update )
((ooc: It's that time again, kids. Those who wish to sign up for experiments respond to this entry! Remember that you can only sign up one character and preference will be given to those who haven’t gone before! This event is not mandatory and will include physical, mental, and/or emotional damage. Everyone will have a say in what happens to their characters, the entire event will have a general squick warning. We will draw for seven names at the end of next week so we have time to plan for the participants. All participants will be chosen via RNG! Good luck everyone! And just a reminder that backtagging the event is more than welcome! If you have any questions about it, feel free to drop us a line to ask.))
