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For some, the return of day means the first clear view of a sunrise in many months, as the light creeps over the edge of ocean and into view, unfiltered by windows to any who remain outdoors. But as the first tendrils of dawn snake over the horizon, they do nothing to banish the biting chill that seems to worsen, not improve, even as light trickles over the island and into the windows of the house.
Those who have remained outside, however, will soon find themselves ushered hurriedly back indoors. Several Phantasms appear without warning, patrolling the grounds and sweeping for any sign of houseguests. They bodily move any who linger back indoors, dragging them if necessary. Once everyone is inside, the front door closes with a resounding bang as the latch clicks back into place. The heavy wooden entrance is immovable once again, and the ability to leave the house is taken from them just as suddenly as it was given, their glimpse of freedom from the confines of old walls effectively cut short.
Fortunately, the creatures from outside do not seem to have followed them in.
In spite of the return to normal, the door now back in place and barring escape, the point of arrival remains the Leather Study. All new guests shall be welcomed by the overbearing leather and mahogany instead of the marble that many are used to, no windows to admit the faint dawn light that taunts them and beckons them.
As the chimes complete their morning calls, the overbearing cold from outside seems to seep in through the very cracks of the walls, permeating like a virus and catching everyone in its embrace. A winter chill has settled upon the house, and it seems that over the course of the night the heat has ceased to function. In the meantime, however, all fireplaces remain lit with a fire that seems almost alive with its dance, the glowing embers and flames the only source of warmth in the house.
As the clock finishes striking the Dumb Supper comes to an end, the Unnatural Servants clearing away the last of the crockery before setting one final gift in front of each guest. Those who have sat through the experience, regardless of how much trouble they may have been, each receive an apple, a small hand mirror, folding fruit knife and a note.
Peel apple and discard fruit skin over shoulder, use mirror to see how it falls and learn what comes.
As soon as all guests have their gifts and the room is clean once more the servants vanish, leaving the diners to move on at their own pace. Outside the dining hall guests will find their clothes and missing belongings, washed and neatly folded. They may keep their mourning clothes as long as they take them away. Any event clothes left near or by the dining room will eventually be tidied away.
Anyone who wishes to try and tell their fortune must do so before midday, or be bitterly disappointed by the results.
The experiment victims, too, are released. Deposited carefully and gently in the basement, and left with bandages and supplies as necessary, the phantoms seem to take a certain care in making sure their fresh scars and treatments are not agitated. They are now free to make their way back to their friends.
Along with the light and those taken from them, some residents may find comfort in the return of something else precious. Most sensitives, those with powers rated as medium and above, will feel relief as a part of them returns. A sense of being and self-awareness is restored as they regain their names, and those of all others. With them the gaping holes in their tattoos are redrawn, as if nothing was ever missing.
Those lacking powers still cannot recall their own names or those they have known in the past-- the names of strangers, friends, and family alike are all still lost to them. Curiously the ones belonging to the sensitives are regained, remembered no matter how fleeting the relationship or intimate of the familiarity, simply no one else's. Instead they continue to carry a certain melancholic emptiness, their sense of self just starting to erode away.
In the Gallery the Art Enthusiast is rebuilt. Things seem to snap back into place, bones crunching to return to how they should be, a man returning from the ghost until he may well have never been dead, by the look of him. Once he is restored Don shakes with the lingering pain, dizzy from the sensation of bones grinding and snapping, before he wanders off in something of a daze.
The Lady in White seems as though she is about to change again, to transform into something wicked once more, before the dawn takes hold of her. It is an almost peaceful expression-- relief-- that is etched onto her features as she drifts and inevitably simply fades away. Were it not for the supplies she has left behind, she may never have been there at all.
Standing in the middle of the Observatory, Carver is rigid. His jaw is set and shoulders squared as he stands tall, waiting. It is not patience, however, but a hard-headed defiance that marks his stance and lines his face. He does not flinch even as the first sparks ignite his clothes, the flames slowly building around him. Neither boiling nor melting away, his steadfast form seems to flake away into ash and ember, until he is burnt away without a trace.
The Wax Man lets out a shuddering sob as the light trickles through the windows and onto him, as if alarmed by the heat of the sun, his voice trailing into silence. He takes one last look at his drawing as the ashes are blown away by a faint wind, once again destroying and scattering the image he had slaved away over. He hangs his head low in regret and shame before he marches slowly back to the Wax Room, trailing grime behind him. He curls back into his place in the closet, crying softly, slowly fading to silence and stillness.
The figures in the Velvet and Silk stir, concern twisting their delicate features into frowns of worry, but it does not last. They straighten themselves up, eyes drifting shut once again, as they return to their original positions and seem almost to fall asleep.
The foods that were set out over the night in the kitchens have been cleaned up. All of the baked goods and foraged foods and vegetables are neatly stored away, preserved for those who might still wish to eat. The Blue Kitchen has been thoroughly cleaned, the corpse and her unfinished meal gone without leaving a single speck of gore.
While proper food has not returned to the Blue or Rough Kitchens, a second fresh pot of meaty stew boils steadily away in the first of these.
The Professional Kitchen has been fully restocked to normal levels, all kinds of food now available. It is just as unwelcoming as always, but supplies are readily available.
On the desk in the Study a carved figure has been placed gently atop a piece of paper. The object is done in the shape of a man, painstakingly detailed for its size, with a pair of wings attached to his back by carved wooden straps. The note, in bold and strong handwriting, reads, "A gift for the kindness of your company. M.H."
Day has returned to the house, though it brings little in the way of warmth and comfort.
At least it is safe for now.
((ooc: Day 016 is the first of the extended days/nights! It will end in three weeks, on the 23rd. All updates in November, December, and January will be similarly extended (excluding the final January update).
FORTUNE TELLING: any guests who attempt this will find when they look in the hand mirror the apple skin perfectly aligns to spell out one word, and see the shadow of someone walking away. If they look over their shoulder, however, the apple skin will just be in a haphazard pile. The word (or name) itself is up to each individual player, although if you are unsure feel free to ask!))
Those who have remained outside, however, will soon find themselves ushered hurriedly back indoors. Several Phantasms appear without warning, patrolling the grounds and sweeping for any sign of houseguests. They bodily move any who linger back indoors, dragging them if necessary. Once everyone is inside, the front door closes with a resounding bang as the latch clicks back into place. The heavy wooden entrance is immovable once again, and the ability to leave the house is taken from them just as suddenly as it was given, their glimpse of freedom from the confines of old walls effectively cut short.
Fortunately, the creatures from outside do not seem to have followed them in.
In spite of the return to normal, the door now back in place and barring escape, the point of arrival remains the Leather Study. All new guests shall be welcomed by the overbearing leather and mahogany instead of the marble that many are used to, no windows to admit the faint dawn light that taunts them and beckons them.
As the chimes complete their morning calls, the overbearing cold from outside seems to seep in through the very cracks of the walls, permeating like a virus and catching everyone in its embrace. A winter chill has settled upon the house, and it seems that over the course of the night the heat has ceased to function. In the meantime, however, all fireplaces remain lit with a fire that seems almost alive with its dance, the glowing embers and flames the only source of warmth in the house.
As the clock finishes striking the Dumb Supper comes to an end, the Unnatural Servants clearing away the last of the crockery before setting one final gift in front of each guest. Those who have sat through the experience, regardless of how much trouble they may have been, each receive an apple, a small hand mirror, folding fruit knife and a note.
Peel apple and discard fruit skin over shoulder, use mirror to see how it falls and learn what comes.
As soon as all guests have their gifts and the room is clean once more the servants vanish, leaving the diners to move on at their own pace. Outside the dining hall guests will find their clothes and missing belongings, washed and neatly folded. They may keep their mourning clothes as long as they take them away. Any event clothes left near or by the dining room will eventually be tidied away.
Anyone who wishes to try and tell their fortune must do so before midday, or be bitterly disappointed by the results.
The experiment victims, too, are released. Deposited carefully and gently in the basement, and left with bandages and supplies as necessary, the phantoms seem to take a certain care in making sure their fresh scars and treatments are not agitated. They are now free to make their way back to their friends.
Along with the light and those taken from them, some residents may find comfort in the return of something else precious. Most sensitives, those with powers rated as medium and above, will feel relief as a part of them returns. A sense of being and self-awareness is restored as they regain their names, and those of all others. With them the gaping holes in their tattoos are redrawn, as if nothing was ever missing.
Those lacking powers still cannot recall their own names or those they have known in the past-- the names of strangers, friends, and family alike are all still lost to them. Curiously the ones belonging to the sensitives are regained, remembered no matter how fleeting the relationship or intimate of the familiarity, simply no one else's. Instead they continue to carry a certain melancholic emptiness, their sense of self just starting to erode away.
In the Gallery the Art Enthusiast is rebuilt. Things seem to snap back into place, bones crunching to return to how they should be, a man returning from the ghost until he may well have never been dead, by the look of him. Once he is restored Don shakes with the lingering pain, dizzy from the sensation of bones grinding and snapping, before he wanders off in something of a daze.
The Lady in White seems as though she is about to change again, to transform into something wicked once more, before the dawn takes hold of her. It is an almost peaceful expression-- relief-- that is etched onto her features as she drifts and inevitably simply fades away. Were it not for the supplies she has left behind, she may never have been there at all.
Standing in the middle of the Observatory, Carver is rigid. His jaw is set and shoulders squared as he stands tall, waiting. It is not patience, however, but a hard-headed defiance that marks his stance and lines his face. He does not flinch even as the first sparks ignite his clothes, the flames slowly building around him. Neither boiling nor melting away, his steadfast form seems to flake away into ash and ember, until he is burnt away without a trace.
The Wax Man lets out a shuddering sob as the light trickles through the windows and onto him, as if alarmed by the heat of the sun, his voice trailing into silence. He takes one last look at his drawing as the ashes are blown away by a faint wind, once again destroying and scattering the image he had slaved away over. He hangs his head low in regret and shame before he marches slowly back to the Wax Room, trailing grime behind him. He curls back into his place in the closet, crying softly, slowly fading to silence and stillness.
The figures in the Velvet and Silk stir, concern twisting their delicate features into frowns of worry, but it does not last. They straighten themselves up, eyes drifting shut once again, as they return to their original positions and seem almost to fall asleep.
The foods that were set out over the night in the kitchens have been cleaned up. All of the baked goods and foraged foods and vegetables are neatly stored away, preserved for those who might still wish to eat. The Blue Kitchen has been thoroughly cleaned, the corpse and her unfinished meal gone without leaving a single speck of gore.
While proper food has not returned to the Blue or Rough Kitchens, a second fresh pot of meaty stew boils steadily away in the first of these.
The Professional Kitchen has been fully restocked to normal levels, all kinds of food now available. It is just as unwelcoming as always, but supplies are readily available.
On the desk in the Study a carved figure has been placed gently atop a piece of paper. The object is done in the shape of a man, painstakingly detailed for its size, with a pair of wings attached to his back by carved wooden straps. The note, in bold and strong handwriting, reads, "A gift for the kindness of your company. M.H."
Day has returned to the house, though it brings little in the way of warmth and comfort.
At least it is safe for now.
((ooc: Day 016 is the first of the extended days/nights! It will end in three weeks, on the 23rd. All updates in November, December, and January will be similarly extended (excluding the final January update).
FORTUNE TELLING: any guests who attempt this will find when they look in the hand mirror the apple skin perfectly aligns to spell out one word, and see the shadow of someone walking away. If they look over their shoulder, however, the apple skin will just be in a haphazard pile. The word (or name) itself is up to each individual player, although if you are unsure feel free to ask!))
