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zoe washburne

Frosty the Snowmen | Throughout the House | Day 40

The snow has been going for days now. It's more than just a dusting. It's everywhere and the temperature is absolutely frigid. Even those with forms that shouldn't be affected by the weather feel the cold bite of winter as the frost creeps down their spines any time they stay still long enough for it to form.

Brimstone's broken down and fashioned herself a crude dress from one of the table clothes in the dining room and a cape from the curtains in the library. Mason still hasn't spoken. They know that the source of the frost seems to be a door in the Great Hall, but it will not open and placing a hand to it chills a body to their very core. The house is probably a victim.

She's trudging through the hall on her way back to the library - there's shelter and some warmth there for those who huddle close in book caves - when she spots a new addition. It appears to be some sort of snow sculpture.

The thing stands slightly taller than her, has viciously carved sticks for arms, and a leering face of black stones. Cool Kid seems to be getting more sophisticated in his creative snow work, then. At least she supposes until it reaches out for her as she walks past. It grabs her cape and she immediately ducks out of the thing, spinning and pulling out her rifle in one smooth motion. The snow creature just grins at her, the cape on its arm as if holding it out to her.

"Didn't walk near close enough to hit that arm by accident," she tells it, then cocks her gun. Before she can loose a shot, the snowman throws the cape at her and reaches for the barrel of her gun. It's fast. Much faster than it should be. Or maybe the cold's slowing her down? Brimstone can only back up and shoot at the cape, the bullets going through and hitting her assailant behind. It bursts into powder... and then starts to reform.

Brimstone hears shuffling and looks in the direction of the library. More snow creatures in all shapes and sizes are attacking. "Fuck." She's come to appreciate Lights' simple expletive. The rifle makes a run toward the Hearth Room. She needs fire and that where one is.

[OOC: This is meant as a free-for-all/party. I'll NPC the monsters around the house if you'd like your muses to encounter them. Team up. Fight together. Figure out how the hell to get rid of snow monsters in the middle of a giant snow field when they regenerate.]

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The Price of Fashion | Day 37 | Hearth Room

Ever since the cold started, Lights has been in varying states of miserable. It's definitely not a temperature that is friendly towards the nude, and in his case, covering himself is also blinding himself. Which is not something his already stoked paranoia can already handle.

He's sitting near the hearth, curled up into a tight little ball, shivering. The fire definitely helps, but even so his extremities keep getting cold.

He really needs to suck it up, but he's scared being unprotected.

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luke fon fabre

Everything is dangerous | Day 37 - Anywhere, afternoon | Open

Snow is weird.

He's never seen snow. He doesn't even remember the concept of snow. So the cold white stuff falling from the ceiling is something entirely new and weird and he doesn't like it.

Well, at first he thinks it's interesting and kind of pretty.

Thenhe discovers that it's actually frozen water. And having paper skin isn't the best thing to have when there's water falling from the sky. He's not in danger of falling apart yet, but there's patches of skin on his arms and face where snowflakes have fallen and melted, partially translucent skin with a slight greenish tinge. His feet are in a similar state, though he's wrapped them in strips of pillowcase so he can at least walk.

Or at least attempt to. It's harder than it looks.

He can be found nearly anywhere in the house that isn't TOO covered in snow, searching for somewhere warm and/or dry enough to hang out for a while, draped in the remnants of the pillowcase he attacked for makeshift shoes.

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william flemming

The Library: Open

The snow didn't bother him. He had his thick fur coat to keep him warm, though he was still a bit colder than he would have liked. That, and with the snow falling down as much as it was reading was a bit of a pain, thouhg the wolf hadn't found anything he could read so far anyway. He'd have to change that, eventually. Somehow. Maybe Mason would be willing to help him out.

Speaking of Mason... he hadn't heard from the house recently, and the falling snow worried him a bit. He might have been able to keep himself decently warm even without a blanket to cover him, but the house had always been warm enough before. "Mason...?" he called, nervous and worried. The wolf would have to look for the others soon. Maybe someone else could explain the sudden snow and why it was so cold. "I know you can hear me. What happened? I see no hole in you anywhere."

Maybe he was sore over the damage he and Copper had done in the garden. Really, it hadn't been his fault! He was curious. But without an answer, he couldn't help but feel somewhat worried and a little anxious.

So the wolf would wander, looking for anyone who could tell him answers.

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!!open log,
elsword

Firebrands are not space heaters | Day 37, Afternoon | Open, possibly mass burrito mingle??

The cold is tolerable, at first. A slight chill? No big deal, he's a magical flaming broadsword. Still, the fact that the temperature dropped at all is a bit worrying, and that worry only increases when it starts snowing, of all things. Why snow.

So his first stop ends up being the hearth room. Once he's sure nothing terrible is happening to the hearth (and throws some extra kindling in there for good measure), Jian goes straight for whatever's left of that mangled fireproof curtain. It's not much, but it's the only fabric in the house that won't burst into flames on contact, so it'd have to do. In a matter of seconds Jian completes his transformation into a flaming head poking out of a cloth cocoon.

Except... well, it's still a bit too large, and kinda hard to walk in. He should probably cut off some of it first.

He frees a hand for about five seconds before deciding to just flop onto the middle of the floor instead. Fuck that, it's too cold for this shit. Maybe the cold will go away if he waits it out...

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Like Blood Lying on Snow | Day 37 - Afternoon | Multiple Places

A gun doesn't care about the temperature. As long as it can spark, there's nothing to worry about. Precipitation is something slightly more problematic, even if it starts out frozen.

Scenario A (Open!)
It is particularly problematic when it's falling inside on instruction books you're trying to read from. The one Brimstone has at the moment is for getting outside. The steps are frustratingly simplified and provide little advice on how to actually accomplish any of them. When the first snowflakes hit the pages and begin melting, she looks upward for the source of the mysterious flurries, but they're just coming from the ceiling. She closes the book and goes to find the others roaming the house, noting that it's not just the library suffering the bizarre weather patterns. "You ever seen snow fallin' inside when there ain't a hole in the roof?"

Scenario B (Just one, please!)
Once she's gathered that, no, this is not a regular occurrence as far as anyone else can remember, Brimstone heads toward the only place that she knows there's a window. Maybe if she can climb up to it and see what's going on outside if might give an indication of what's going on inside. It's definitely a magical phenomenon, but it might be a naturally-occurring magical phenomenon. Possibly. She sets her jaw and starts to scale the wall below the ledge where Angel had found the window.

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mituna captor

Let it snow

The Grand Hall, chilly as it is, has never looked like this before. Cool Kid looks around, he doesn't remember ever seeing snow before, but the sight of it alone is enough to chase away any anger he has at the temperature dropping. The place before him is some kind of winter wonderland.

"Fuck yes!" he shouts in glee, before running forward and diving straight into a pile of snow. He laughs, turning onto his back to make a snow angel when he hears someone coming (your character?), with a snicker, he quiets, hiding behind a dip in the snow. Gathering some of the fluff in his hand he packs it into a small lump, then, taking aim, he pulls back and fires.

"SNOW FIGHT!"

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awakening, take II // the library // day 30

Who: the twins and you!
Where: library
When: day 30 afternoon
What: the twins wake up. again.
Warnings: none. yet. the zimin twins are their own warning, otherwise.

( reading rainbow )

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Of True Literary Value | Library | Day 30, Morning

The astronomer thinks, as he makes his way to the library, that it's the perfect day for a literary experience. He knows from previous attempts at combing through the library that most of the books are in foreign languages, but he's hopeful he'll find some nice fiction that he can understand.

Once he's chosen a wing to search, he goes shelf by shelf, inspecting spines and opening books without words on the covers. Eventually, he strikes gold. There's a book with a readable title on its cover – Cursed Heart – and it's hefty. Opening the book shows him similarly understandable text, and further inspection of the same shelf yields two more books of what appears to be a series: Cursed Body and Cursed Soul. It's unclear what order they're in until he takes a look at the back covers, which fortunately have blurbs with phrases such as "the sequel" and "the final book".

He settles down on the library floor with the first book in hand and begins to read. The book starts off slow, but soon enough he can't stop reading. The main character is relatable, and the love interests each have their own unique charm and appeal. Who will everyone end up with? What is the secret of the magic pendant? Who is orchestrating the war between the kingdoms? He's so gripped by the work of literature in front of him that by the time anyone approaches he's already partway through the second book.

"You would not believe the romantic situation in these books," he says, pointing to the text with one of his free hands. "It's simply exquisite! A magnificent multi-sided polygon."

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Throughout the House, then the Grand Hall | Day 26 | Open

[A: Throughout the House]

The keen observer may notice a newly awakened presence wandering around the home, investigating its various curiosities with amicable inquisitiveness. The horned hulk isn't exactly aimless in his explorations-there's a general trend towards opening doors and peering through, hoping against hope that this one leads to somewhere that feels familiar-but he doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry, either. There's a lot to take in, after all, and it feels like he's seeing all of it for the first time.

He hesitates when he spots someone else. He doesn't want to bother anyone or attract too much attention, but maybe they can help? And maybe they'll be nice, he hopes, so he steps forward.

"Um, hi," he says, offering a nervous smile and an awkward middle-distance wave. "Sorry. Do you know, where am I supposed to be at?"

[B: The Grand Hall]

Anyone who wants to see something completely ridiculous had better shift themselves to the grand hall on the double. There, they'll see an oversized and very obviously landlocked Servant trying to take flight. He starts simply by spreading his arms like wings and shutting his eyes, as though he could lift himself from the earth by will alone. After standing in that pose for a few minutes with his eyes squeezed shut, getting more and more obviously frustrated, he tries another approach.

He runs. He's a sight to see with his arms outspread and his head down, blindly trying to achieve liftoff in the least aerodynamic body imaginable. He can fly! He's sure of it; the feeling of it is so clear and perfect in his mind. If only he could remember the trick that made it possible!

After thundering around the hall at top speed several times, he's slows to a stop. He takes a seat on the stairs then lies back, sprawling across the broad steps as he catches his breath. He stares wistfully at the ceiling, so far out of reach. It wasn't a dream, it just wasn't. He might not be too sure of anything right now, he's never been more certain of anything. Flight is easy and amazing and probably nothing will ever feel better than it.

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Lounge - Day 26

Who: Vigil and you!
Where: Lounge
When: Day 26
What: Vigil goes looking for clothing and finds a mind control device. Oops.
Warnings: Mind control, slavery, explicit sex. Will update as needed.

( Read more... )

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two completely unrelated events | day 26

[ A - In the Studio ]

Now that the Studio is opened, convinced that the statue therein is really just too afraid to join the rest of them, Aria has made it her mission to visit every day that she can and talk to her, at least just for a little while. Today she's brought Humphrey with her on a field trip out of the pond, and while Aria tells the story of how he came to be, the little golden turtle is motoring around the room with all the speed one expects of a turtle.

"--I mean, I thought he was going to die! I was so scared."

She's left the door wide open, so anyone is liable to walk in on her sitting at the statue's feet.

[ B - Everywhere! ]

When her daily visit is over, Feferi returns Humphrey to the pond, tossing him back in with a loud splash, then heads back into the house to look for people. Not just anyone, but everyone, whoever she can manage to stumble upon. Considering the size of the area they've been inhabiting, it's not hard.

"Hello! Do you have a moment?"

[ ooc: there is a post here with more information about Gardenquest, which is what Feferi will be asking about! ]

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All over the house | Throughout day 25 | Open

The crab is attempting to make himself busy – partially because he's feeling a little restless, but he has an ulterior motive, and as he prowls the house – crab-shaped, for now – he has the look of someone who's looking for something.

What he's looking for, of course, is other people's business to poke his mandibles into.

The hearth fire has taken to calling him his Guardian, and being as it's the first name anybody's given him that isn't a joke or an insult he wants to keep it, but it is the kind of name he feels one ought to earn, both because of the weight of its meaning and, for some reason, its length – it feels like a proper name in a way he can't quite put his finger on. But he's only one person's guardian, when the first thing he remembers is being responsible for a whole lot all at once. If what he remembers is true he figures he has plenty of claim to guardianship, but for one thing, if anybody here is going to accept that then he needs to prove it, and for another if it is true then he needs to keep it up, otherwise he's failing to live up to who he's obviously supposed to be. Whoever that is.

Unfortunately there are not presently a hell of a lot of great perils presenting themselves, but he figures he might as well check. Just in case. You never know what's lurking behind curtains and under tables and stuff, or when something heavy might fall on someone's leg or something, or when somebody might need to talk about their feelings.

(ooc: Please go ahead and provide him with either situations that might require a person's assistance, situations that blatantly do not need any assistance at all but might seem otherwise to the unwise onlooker, or people who want to hassle Karkat about what exactly he's doing prowling around like this.)

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Games Room | Day 23 Afternoon/Evening | Open

[A]

The book has been exploring the games room since they got it open. Having been the one to discover it (with Wordsworth's help, she'll concede) it already feels as much her place as the library. And it's a more interesting way to spend her time than searching through the quiet stacks for the nth time since she woke up.

She appropriated a pool cue at some early point in her investigations. Thoughts of finding a weapon have been plaguing her since the murders, and despite its myriad limitations the book feels comfortable having the cue to protect herself. For now, she's using it to poke at the contents of the game room. Not out of wariness (though she did jump the first time one of the arcade machines sounded off next to her), just to get used to carrying a stick around. While she isn't looking to prod anyone animate on purpose, it might be best to keep some distance until she's mastered the art of turning while paying attention to what she might hit.

[B]

Once she's explored the larger room, the girl pulls a few games at random from the shelves, settling herself in on the floor. The contents of the boxes are dumped out around her, the incomprehensible instructions quickly discarded and she begins to sort through the mess. With enough pieces she must be able to make something that'll be fun to play.

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Day 23 | Morning

The moment that the kitchen fire wakes up, on the floor beside his brazier again, he realises how very unsafe he is. He's so out in the open here, no matter how fond he is of being so close to the food. He needs a better place. And there's only one place he can think of right now as an appropriate hiding spot.

So, hoping he's up early enough, and that everyone is still absorbed wherever they are, he hefts his brazier carefully up to his chest and heads out across the Dining Room, across the house...trying to make it to the Bedroom without being spotted, or caught. This may be an impossible task, no matter how much he hunches protectively over his brazier, and does his best to dim his own glow, and hide the fire of his true self from the view of others. He tries to stick to the walls but he's going to have to make it through the Great Hall...

This should be interesting.

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NEW AREA: THE GAMES ROOM


	THE GAMES ROOM

With a notably more busy and less elegant decor than the other areas, the Games Room is a treasure trove of personal entertainment both electronic and otherwise. A number of old fashioned arcade machines line its mirrored walls, and towards its back end is shelve after heaping shelve of board games and cards. While it suffers the same problem as the library in that most of the games are written in unreadable languages or concepts, at the very least it offers a pool table, a poker table with cards and chips, and a large generic gaming table towards the back. There is also another locked door.

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NEW AREA: THE STUDIO


	THE STUDIO

Despite the drab colours of is actual architecture, the Studio is filled with supplies fit for creating just about any traditional piece of art you could hope for. Tables and drawers are littered with paints and other tools. There is a cabinet in the back filled with a seemingly unlimited supply of canvases. There are several pieces of art in varying levels of progress in here - the most notable of which is a large, partially abstract painting of a woman, and what appears to be an actual woman standing stone still, covered in body paint. She even appears to be alive - but completely unresponsive.

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they close the doors and are letting nobody in ♞ open, one semi-closed prompt; Day 22 VARIOUS

[ A - Library, morning to early afternoon ]

Well, this is a rare sight, considering the firebrand doesn't come into the library all too often (and thankfully so considering the fire hazard), but apparently today the shadow exists without its flame. But at the moment there is a raven, or rather a man-who-is-a-raven-but-not-at-this-exact-moment seated at one of the less obviously visible desks.

At first glance he seems to be poring laboriously over one of the many tomes to be found here, taking down notes with a piece of charcoal as he goes, but closer examination reveals that actually? Actually he is just scrawling in the margins of whatever unfortunate book he's happened to deem relatively useless at the moment. Emphasis scrawling.

It also seems to be a couple of the same things over and over, though what language that even is in or what it is supposed to say is up for debate. His handwriting doesn't seem to be able to decide whether it's supposed to be messy or elegant, and that's after the awkwardness of, well, writing with one's off hand.

"...Convenient way to find out you're right-handed," he mutters to himself eventually.

So why isn't he writing with his right hand, then? After all, beneath the cloak he's wearing it seems to be fine... It's more that side of the cloak that seems to be more strangely in disarray than anything.

[ B - Hearth Room, off and on throughout the day ]

At various points in the day, the valravn makes the long trek down the stairs (made far, far too long by the inability to simply pitch himself off the top of it and fly down) and into the cozy warmth of the hearth room, though he looks uncomfortable about it for as long as it takes for him to make a sweep of the room and leave (longer than it should normally be. his movements are somewhat... hindered).

He's looking for someone, specifically the page, but it seems he keeps missing them, even though he knows he's seen them in passing here before... Unfortunately, he doesn't know the page's habits well enough to guess where else they might be.

This might require a different approach.

But hey, while he's there, certain changelings may or may not have some choice things to say to him, right?

[ C - Grand Hall, door to Dining Hall; NOT A PROMPT unless people want to do reactions, but he will not be present for this ]

At some point in the afternoon, this is found to be written onto the Dining Room door in simple, printed script. Why that door? Because everyone has to eat at some point.

There's a spirit in the gardens. It was released from one of the potions belonging to the room adjacent to the hearth room. It's proven to be hostile and dangerous.

Please be careful.

The please is somewhat scuffed out. It's unsigned, and the handwriting doesn't seem to resemble any of those that were on the board the gargoyle had been protecting two nights previous.

( seen the anger and seen all of the dreams )

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everyone million years dungeon | Day 21, Day to Evening | Open

[A - The Grand Hall, likely one mass thread because he's going to bitch at everyone and never let them leave]

After all the bodies have been found and reunited with their souls, all that's left is the mess. The blood, the black silk, the walls and walls of graffiti and damaged furniture and other acts of vandalism...

Jesus fuck, he was gonna be busy. The pitch-black overseer mutters to himself irritably as he scribbles away on the bottom of his shirt, documenting all of this bullshit. His attention is, for now, mainly on the damage. Maybe you could sneak past... but why would you need to? It's not like he's still obligated to be a huge ass to everyone with the Keeper missing, right?

... Right??

[B - Nowhere is safe]

After (or before?) he's done surveying the grand hall, the next obvious course of action is to start getting pissy at everyone else. That means you—yes, you, right there, minding your own business. There is now an extremely irritable overseer stomping in your general direction.

"And what the hell do you think you're doing?" is his default greeting, because all of you fuckers are bad at your jobs. Even the ones that don't have jobs. Even the ones doing their jobs.

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He who doesn't fear death only dies once. /a few hours after the plot finale / gardens

Those three bodies aren't the only thing that have come back from this whole mess, you know.

If you wander out in the gardens, you'll see the typewriter sitting on a log, clutching his side with a slightly pained expression. The wound from the dagger that the kitchen fire had so politely stabbed into his side is still there, fresh and dripping blood as dark as ink, but he seems to be...well, surprisingly alive for someone who had looked so lifeless before.

But despite that, he doesn't look all that happy. More sorrowful, really. And as he sits there, he keeps rubbing the side of his neck with his free hand, murmuring under his breath:

"Well, if this isn't a surprising turn of events..."