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Just shortly before the arrival of noon, someone strikes a single note on the organ in the Ballroom. The noise echoes through the entirety of the houses, though it is little more than a faint, distracting hum at the furthest reaches of the third. No notes follow, and so it is unclear if someone had intended to play.
With breakfast over, the Unnatural Servants appear in the Parlour. They clear the spread meticulously and efficiently, removing all items and tables that had not been there before. By the time they have left, the room looks as if the morning's changes had never occurred. The gifts given to them have disappeared, and were it not for the packs guests now carry with them, the kindness of the house might never have occurred.
The daylight hours wane toward their end in relative peace, once the preparation has been taken care of.
With breakfast over, the Unnatural Servants appear in the Parlour. They clear the spread meticulously and efficiently, removing all items and tables that had not been there before. By the time they have left, the room looks as if the morning's changes had never occurred. The gifts given to them have disappeared, and were it not for the packs guests now carry with them, the kindness of the house might never have occurred.
The daylight hours wane toward their end in relative peace, once the preparation has been taken care of.
The clock does not make a sound as the light returns to the halls. Rather than dawn, it seems like a sullen sort of twilight, almost resentfully arriving on the house. Those who have touched the Sundial in the Greenhouse will find that they still hear the soft, invasive sound of ticking. The glow fades from their skin, but none of the other effects the night brought seem inclined to cease. A close exploration of the clock will find that it is stopped and no efforts to fix it will be successful.
In the Greenhouse the mysterious carriage and its driver has again disappeared. The dew-soaked path is unmarked, showing no evidence that the carriage has passed over it. The dusky light of dawn has left the Greenhouse fog strangely colored, and for the Sensitive of medium or higher levels the faces of those they long to see linger in the mist, vanishing down hidden paths and into the depths of the Greenhouse.
The Hedge Maze seems unusually apparent, looming out of the mist. It seems to almost be waiting for the houseguests.
Monsters occasionally make themselves known in the half-light, and those that find themselves injured during the day will find that the Hellhounds still haunt the halls of the house. They seem as confused as the houseguests to find themselves within the hallways, though just as concerned for the Experiment victims as they have been throughout the night.
The Experiments have been returned to the basement tunnels, and will wake to find themselves surrounded by a quiet ring of hellhounds. The dogs will not harm them, and instead seem intent on protecting them.
All children in the house, that is anyone under the age of eighteen or physical maturity for their species, will wake to find themselves tucked within a blanket. An item from a person they have paternal feelings for has been tucked within their hands. This item varies is usefulness and is mun controlled.
Shion and Nicolas have been returned to their guardians, and seem to have taken no harm from their adventures during the night. Both are alert and very hungry, whimpering quietly until they are fed.
Lock has returned, seeming equally unharmed by his adventures. His hands are still bandaged, but his face is completely healed. He can be found in the Blue Kitchen digging through cupboards as though he is looking for something.
Mere hours after the dawn sets in, a strange compulsion sets over all house guests, regardless of sensitivity to the world around them. A nagging feeling will attach to the corners of their minds, pressuring them to make their way to the Parlour. The feeling will grow as time goes on, until the desire to go there becomes a need that will not ebb until it is satisfied.
Perhaps the same force that requested their presence has set something up there for them to find. Two long tables have been set out in the centre of the room, pristine white table cloths holding a variety of goods. On one table supplies have been laid: thirty small green packs have been placed neatly in rows. Their contents include crude bandages, a foul smelling disinfectant, a needle and thread, a survival blanket, matches, a multi-tool pocket knife, and a small coil of rope. At the very bottom of each is a compass, yet it appears to be broken, the needle never pointing in the same direction for long. Underneath the table is a small cardboard box containing batteries and three walkie-talkies. Those with healing capabilities or maternal tendencies feel a call to take one of the bags. Please note in a reply to this post if your character is taking one of the bags.
The second table is covered by a very different spread. On one end of the room there is an assortment of dishes and utensils, all clearly for use with what covers the rest. From pancakes and sizzling bacon to rice and soups, everyone will find something they would want for a filling and delicious breakfast. At the far end there are vats of steaming coffee, hot cocoa, and freshly squeezed juice. The temptation of the food is almost tangibly enticing, calling those around to eat it.
A time after all the ghosts have disappeared from view, one seems to re-appear quite suddenly. Settling in the familiar Entryway, like any newly arrived guest might, the Art Enthusiast has returned to life. Not a single break is visible on his person, as if the night's injuries had never occured at all, though as he sits on his knees he cradles his neck gingerly with one hand. His expression still does not hold the usual life that many had grown accustomed to, but it is far removed from the shade of night. It is wrought with confusion and disorientation as he looks frantically around him-- almost a panic in his haze of uncertainty, as if he is struggling to understand what has happened. Dazed and distraught, he sits there for a long time in silence and does not seem particularly inclined to move.
All Rooms damaged during the night have been restored to their previous condition.
In the Greenhouse the mysterious carriage and its driver has again disappeared. The dew-soaked path is unmarked, showing no evidence that the carriage has passed over it. The dusky light of dawn has left the Greenhouse fog strangely colored, and for the Sensitive of medium or higher levels the faces of those they long to see linger in the mist, vanishing down hidden paths and into the depths of the Greenhouse.
The Hedge Maze seems unusually apparent, looming out of the mist. It seems to almost be waiting for the houseguests.
Monsters occasionally make themselves known in the half-light, and those that find themselves injured during the day will find that the Hellhounds still haunt the halls of the house. They seem as confused as the houseguests to find themselves within the hallways, though just as concerned for the Experiment victims as they have been throughout the night.
The Experiments have been returned to the basement tunnels, and will wake to find themselves surrounded by a quiet ring of hellhounds. The dogs will not harm them, and instead seem intent on protecting them.
All children in the house, that is anyone under the age of eighteen or physical maturity for their species, will wake to find themselves tucked within a blanket. An item from a person they have paternal feelings for has been tucked within their hands. This item varies is usefulness and is mun controlled.
Shion and Nicolas have been returned to their guardians, and seem to have taken no harm from their adventures during the night. Both are alert and very hungry, whimpering quietly until they are fed.
Lock has returned, seeming equally unharmed by his adventures. His hands are still bandaged, but his face is completely healed. He can be found in the Blue Kitchen digging through cupboards as though he is looking for something.
Mere hours after the dawn sets in, a strange compulsion sets over all house guests, regardless of sensitivity to the world around them. A nagging feeling will attach to the corners of their minds, pressuring them to make their way to the Parlour. The feeling will grow as time goes on, until the desire to go there becomes a need that will not ebb until it is satisfied.
Perhaps the same force that requested their presence has set something up there for them to find. Two long tables have been set out in the centre of the room, pristine white table cloths holding a variety of goods. On one table supplies have been laid: thirty small green packs have been placed neatly in rows. Their contents include crude bandages, a foul smelling disinfectant, a needle and thread, a survival blanket, matches, a multi-tool pocket knife, and a small coil of rope. At the very bottom of each is a compass, yet it appears to be broken, the needle never pointing in the same direction for long. Underneath the table is a small cardboard box containing batteries and three walkie-talkies. Those with healing capabilities or maternal tendencies feel a call to take one of the bags. Please note in a reply to this post if your character is taking one of the bags.
The second table is covered by a very different spread. On one end of the room there is an assortment of dishes and utensils, all clearly for use with what covers the rest. From pancakes and sizzling bacon to rice and soups, everyone will find something they would want for a filling and delicious breakfast. At the far end there are vats of steaming coffee, hot cocoa, and freshly squeezed juice. The temptation of the food is almost tangibly enticing, calling those around to eat it.
A time after all the ghosts have disappeared from view, one seems to re-appear quite suddenly. Settling in the familiar Entryway, like any newly arrived guest might, the Art Enthusiast has returned to life. Not a single break is visible on his person, as if the night's injuries had never occured at all, though as he sits on his knees he cradles his neck gingerly with one hand. His expression still does not hold the usual life that many had grown accustomed to, but it is far removed from the shade of night. It is wrought with confusion and disorientation as he looks frantically around him-- almost a panic in his haze of uncertainty, as if he is struggling to understand what has happened. Dazed and distraught, he sits there for a long time in silence and does not seem particularly inclined to move.
All Rooms damaged during the night have been restored to their previous condition.
