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.

ironspirit

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...

subtleserenity

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.

peafowl

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 )

starmap

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."

beefedup

[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.

grotesqueobserver

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... )

yourkeepers

When dawn finally comes, you find them.

They're hanging in the grand hall, bound - almost cocooned - in inky black thread. The bodies of the victims, the ones without their hearts, are now miraculously whole. Cold and untouched, as if those terrible wounds had never been carved into their flesh.

They hang in various positions of rest, some limbs tangled and suspended, others simply hanging limply. Their eyes all all closed. The searchlight's body is still dull silver. The singer's hair dangles long and dark. The oracle's robes pristine.

It's like they've been left here for you, within your reach. The rest is in your hands.

yourkeepers

[There's been a third murder, and a witness to the scene has named a culprit! The chase has taken the group to the Dining Hall - this is open to all, but please keep it to one free for all thread, though you may split off for one on one actions if its appropriate.]

When you arrive in the Dining Hall, the darkness is alive. Like the very shadows, the air around you, is living and breathing - you can feel its cold touch, its heartbeat. It grows ever stronger.

You can't see up on the table from the floor, but you can hear it. You can see the glow, like a void with brightness on its edges. You can hear someone bickering.

His dark work nearly completed, the shadow's keeper revelled in his victory. The spirit of the dagger sung in his head, guiding his hand as he burned intricate sigils and spirals into the wood of the table. It celebrated with him. It praised its imminent release. Effulgent darkness and the light of fire worked in tandem.

'At last,' the spirit said.

“I don’t think this is right,” the kitchen fire says from up top, as if speaking aloud to himself. “But okay. If you say so!” A beat. “Do you even know how hands work, Mr. Darkness Incarnate? Have you ever even had hands?”

His work is hasty as he moves across the wooden surface. All three hearts are with him, still glowing, positioned around him and enclosed in magical circles, connected by a series of lines. He uses a large tome for reference as he draws - the one written in High Tongues, the spellbook from the magical room.

“Oh, well, if you usually have so many hands, maybe that’s why you keep making mistakes like this when there’s only two!”

Little did he realize, his enemies, led by a rifle with vengeance in her heart, were already almost upon him. That his reckless efforts had at last betrayed his true motivations.

The darkness hissed its discomfort as the sacredness of their ritual was desecrated.

It speaks on the edges of your mind, like whispers just beneath your range of hearing. But as you enter the dining hall you feel...guided. Like something is describing your actions even as you commit to them..

”What’re you think you’re doing?” demanded Brimstone, barrel set on the table as she gestured for her comrades to cover the exits. There was murder in her steely eyes. The bastard was here!

And soon, there would be payback!

fuzzyduck

Nothing new in the notice board. Or, at least, nothing that Copper considers useful to her. We're gonna get you, motherfucker, she wrote - fat lot of good that did. Not that she expected the culprit to turn themselves in, sure, but the point is that there is far, far less progress than she'd like.

She wanders off without paying much attention to where she's going and her thoughts wander too. She saw both of the bodies, mutilated, still bleeding. She thinks. To her, they still smelled nauseatingly like blood. Not that that was of any help in finding the killer, either. It was maddening. She thinks back to when she first saw each of the bodies; she tries to remember which scents she felt permeating the area. She tries. She remembers...

( cw for violence/gore/death )

yourkeepers

It starts with a scream.

It pierces with a depth that you've never felt before - so high and terrible that it hits like a physical blow against your body and mind. It leaves a terrible headache in its wake, like you've just been blugeoned, if you're close enough to hear. And it fades all too abruptly.

It come from the lower grand hall, near to the others but seperate enough for privacy. The next thing you hear is a cry for help from Coolkid, the darkling teen. When you arrive, he's covered in glittering pink blood. Aria is cut upon at his feet.

She's dead, and her heart is taken, just like the others. Her eyes are still wide in death, as her long hair soaks in the blood of her gaping wounds.

The boy seems unfocused and disorientated. There's no one else there. Nothing but the dark.

ironspirit

Maybe, just maybe, running off on his own had been a poor choice. The firebrand considers this as he carefully makes his way through the inner gardens, dimming his flames so as not to burn every tree and bush within reach. The darkness feels even more oppressive with only the twin flames burning over his head, but even if burning down the gardens would generate a lot of light, it's still a terrible idea.

It was the first place he thought of, once he noticed the familiar aura of unpleasantness was missing. Maybe Shadow just wandered off for a bit and is perfectly fine. But there's still a murderer lurking about, and it's dangerous to be alone in the dark, and what if something happens to him or he's already in trouble... the more the firebrand thinks about the possibilities, the more anxious he gets. He doesn't want something bad to happen to the raven.

The anxiousness only gets worse the more he searches, though. It's too dark to see more than a few feet past the trees, even with his natural lighting. Is that enough light to be safe? But didn't both of the victims glow, so even if he makes a lot of light he's still at risk? Did the fire make him more at risk??

"Shaaaaadooow!" he calls out into the darkness. When there's still no answer, he quickens his pace, eyeing the trees nervously. "Are you in here?"

( than falling out of darkness still to see )

knightwinged

The raven looks quite a sight as he stumbles through the doorway to the gardens, and for a moment he just lingers there, not quite leaning against the wall but not quite looking like he's supporting his own weight either. He actually looks quite a sight because despite the darkness and despite his colouring, he's quite visible at the moment, eyes a luminous white and his whole body suffused in a softly flickering light of the same shade—which does indeed look quite strange when it like the candles has its brilliance dampened by his presence and yet not at the same time.

The moment passes quickly, however, and in the next he's taking flight. His movements are forced in a way that doesn't seem to have to do with how ragged and worn he looks (and it'd probably be worse if it weren't for his constant state of obscurity) or the way one of his wings doesn't seem to be moving in a manner that looks quite right.

But for the most part, there's nothing wrong.

You know, except for the part where he's indiscriminately lashing out at whatever happens to be within his vicinity, both with the sting of talon and something else, because marks tear themselves into the walls, onto the doors, through the candlesticks without his ever touching them. Possibly some tables are flipped.

Yeah, maybe not a good idea to just stand around. Getting out of the way might be a start.

[[ooc: multiple threads, piling into one; action, prose, whatever works, go for it! obviously safety is not guaranteed but that's overrated anyway, right? right.]]

heirred

A. "YOU." to any member of the fire nation or anyone who looks to be made of a hard metal. "Where were you when Lights was killed? What's you alibi, huh?!"

You can bet he's getting in your face.

B. When that yeilds no results, the frustration gets the best of him.

"Asshole murderer!! I know you're out there!" Coolkid screams into the empty space. "Why don't you come out and show yourself!"

C. And when that predictably yields no results he starts calling for a different ominous being.

"Mason!" he yells, before going over to the walls. Placing his hands on them is all it takes for him to rot through his structure, trying anything to get his attention.

"You better answer me while you still can you bulgesuck!"

D. Finally after fuming and fretting, worry settles over him. He sits, feeling defeated, closing his eyes and trying to replace the fear in his heart with the calm of the darkness around him. A strange feeling settles over him. A weight in his chest, but not anything uncomfortable, simply a presence, as though something is calling out to him. He turns around, suddenly feeling as though he's being watched. There's no one there, and even though he can see in the dark just fine, he has to call out, to check.

"Hello?"

grotesqueobserver

Grand Hall

In the Great Hall, candles have been arranged around a section of wall, illuminating what appears to be some kind of message.

PLEASE HELP

The Oracle and the Light have been murdered by a person or persons unknown. If you have ANY information that can help, PLEASE write it here. We need to consolidate information as much as possible.

ORACLE
--heart removed and placed in body of bird woman in hidden room
--last seen alive ???
--throat cut to prevent calling out, probable cause of death. Heart removed postmortem.

LIGHT
--last seen alive ~~???~~ after discovery of Oracle's heart, between hidden room and library. Intended to stand watch in grand hall?
--killed in hidden room, body left at murder scene --> Brought from GH to scene? Following someone? Maybe knew killer?
--definite signs of a struggle, nails broken -- struggling w/ something hard??
--gaping wounds in chest/neck, heart removed, heart still missing
--trail of ash/charcoal --> hearth room
--blood of victim on hearth room stairs -- from murder weapon??? heart???
--squawk box removed from throat and stored in same cavity Oracle's heart found -- why???

OTHER NOTES
--Motive: Some kind of ritual sacrifice? To what end?
--Murder Weapon: Magical dagger. Black (obsidian?), causes sickness and sensation of being watched when touched.
My key to the White Room was taken from me. [signed by a basic picture of a clock face]
It wasn't me, I have an ~~alleby~~ ~~allibi~~^?? (Alibi) [with a tiny arrow pointing to the clockface, signed by a shitty picture of a sword with fire on it. The last "Alibi" is written in the same handwriting as the original note.]
I know it wasn't you. [signed by a clock face]

we're gonna get you motherfucker

All those killed were fairest.
All those killed glowed.
Victims do not have burns.
Don't step out of the light.
Scary gecko ghost in gardens
Did the murderer cause the lights to go out?

A.

A small pile of charcoal has been left near one of the candles, giving plenty of material to write with, but there seems to be no one around.

((OOC: Post to write stuff on the wall! I will try to keep the OP updated with the notes people leave. If you would like to leave an anonymous note, post anon here!))

B.

The gargoyle has camped himself out near the board, and looks hopefully at those who come in. "I'm trying to get as much information as I can," he explains, gesturing to the wall. "I thought maybe if we gather all the information in one place we can stop who did this. Have you seen anything...you know, suspicious?"

crabhammer

The crab keeps on seeing people investigating things, but for all the diligent clue-rummaging that presumably is getting done here, he still has no idea what the hell is going on, and from what he can work out the people looking for clues don't seem to be doing much liasing with each other.

It's inefficient, and more to the point if he has no idea what's going on then other people must not, either – which means they're way more likely to wind up on the receiving end of another mystery homicide due to lack of information and the whole thing will start all over again.

He is very concerned, and also pretty damn irritated at how incorrectly he feels everybody is dealing with this. Irritation is convenient. Irritation is certainly easier to deal with than fear.

So, having left the hearth fire in the hearth room with moderate certainty that his double is sitting tight there for the time being, he quits his monster shape, removes the candles from his shoulders, and finds himself a decently sized metal pot.

He takes that up in one hand and one of the candles in the other. Then he sets off down the length of the grand hall, banging the bottom of the pot with the hard carapaced knuckles of his other hand and managing, just, not to extinguish the candle.

"HEY ASSHOLES," he yells in between bangs, "GET OUT HERE, I AM CALLING A HOUSE MEETING, IT IS NOT OPTIONAL!"

(ooc: feel free to make multiple new threads in response to this, but jumping into existing ones is also totally acceptable! EDIT: I am going to combine replies to some of these threads to avoid too much repetition, because I got more separate ones than I was anticipating C: New folks are still welcome to jump in!)

yourkeepers

Maybe you were expecting it, maybe you weren't. But the body count doesn't remain at one for long.

Hardly even an hour after everything started, there's been another victim claimed - another light, extinguished.

When someone eventually returns to the hidden room connected to the heart, they will find Lights curled up on the floor, freshly killed. The door is open, the the faint shimmer of his remains can be seen from outside. The counter behind him shows signs of a struggle - apparently overpowered, the fairest's entire front is covered with gore and blood, from his throat and all down his chest.

While the bright yellow blood that surrounds him still glows with a strange luminescence, all the light has drained from his body. For the first time, perhaps, his regular features can be observed with actual clarity, left with dim silvery skin. Pain is still etched onto his young face from the attack that led to his death. His empty eyes are still open.

His killer, nowhere to be seen.

yourkeepers

The body glimmers as the light spreads over its features, like a statue of precious metals stained with blood. Golden hair soaks in a pool of red that paints the floor like a canvas, extending out around the head and shoulders of the victim, still lazily seeping and expanding.

It's the body of the the oracle, and she is very much dead.

Her entire throat and chest is a mess of gore. The blood coats the skin and cloth so that it's hard to make out details, but there is one thing certain - something has cut deep into her chest cavity, as it carving something out from inside.

The body is still warm, but you never heard her scream.

yourkeepers

You wake in darkness.

At first, it doesn't occur to you as abnormal. The lights in a few areas of the house do dim as nightfall comes. The gardens, especially, plunge into the natural hues of evening and night. But it doesn't take you long to realize that this is different.

The darkness is intense, much thicker than you've ever seen, and it consumes everything. Every room has been plunged into the artificial night, and only with the aid of candles or torches will you find your way. It's quiet in a way that feels unwholesome, and any questions to the house will go unanswered.

The silence endures.

The more you try to figure out what's happening, the more it occurs to you - you don't remember going to sleep. You hardly remember anything about the previous evening, and you don't know how it transitioned to way it is now. The idea of it unnerves you.

And that's before you find the body.

heirred

He'd found the paper a while ago, although things were sparse and he felt guilty, he'd taken two or three sheets, stowed them away in a pocket. It had taken him longer to find a pencil or a pen to write with. Every resource they had was limited, still, it was just paper and pencil, using just a little would be alright.

Plus, this place was so boring. He had to do something to pass the time.

That's the thought process that finds Mituna in the lounge, sketching, drawing whoever happens to pass by, some pictures of flowers and various plant life from the gardens already decorating the edges of his paper. Of course he can't draw you if you're moving too fast!

"Wait, just hold still a sec." his tongue pokes out his lips a bit as he tries to quickly sketch out every figure he sees.

Changed Social

Entries tagged with !!open log

The Price of Fashion | Day 37 | Hearth Room

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

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

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

Of True Literary Value | Library | Day 30, Morning

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

Lounge - Day 26

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: EPILOGUE

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: THE FINALE (OPEN TO ALL!)

Adventures in Inappropriate Icons | Day 20 | Open | WHOOPS BEFORE/DURING-ISH THE THIRD MURDER??

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: THE THIRD OFFERING

In truth, there is no better place to be | Day 20 | Open

if you're seeing things running through your head, who can you call ♞ THE GRAND HALL; OPEN

Day 20 -Craziness

What do you know? What do we know?

PLEASE HELP

THE GRAND HALL; OPEN

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: THE NEXT VICTIM

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: THE BODY

HEARTS IN DARKNESS: WAKING UP

Day 17 (Open to All)

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