[MH] Entering and Breaking. [Te, Ho S2:2.1]

edited October 2013 in In-Game
So you've made your way through the cold December night to the home of the now deceased Deputy Marsha Cross. It takes you maybe 20 minutes, and I'm assuming you don't have the car. Peggy probably took it to work, or wherever.

It's a small modest home, white with blue trim, and it appears almost ghostly in the darkness. The feeling of menace sits around it like a heavy cloak. Around it also are other homes. You can see lights on in them. Warm lights as well as the cool blue flickers of television sets.

Have you been talking or quiet? What thoughts are going through your heads? And how, exactly are you going about this?


  • Well, we biked. Do you have a bike yet, Holly? I guess not? But we could ride double. Ashley said the place was unlocked, so I guess, well, I'm coming up and trying the back door.

    I'm not really talky. It's hard to talk on a bike anyway, and now I'm just like, I tell you Ash said the place wasn't locked up properly.
  • [Holly]

    Dear Diary,

    We rode double to Marhsa's, which was really fun! It was chilly, but I don't think I feel cold like she does. I could see my breath, which is normally a really exciting thing for me, the idea that my breath can be seen. Mine, it makes a mark on the world. I like to pretend it's little steam puffs and I'm a train, or that I'm smoking. I know, smoking is bad for you, but sometimes, I do pretend I'm smoking in some old black and white movie.

    When I was with the Bays, I walked everywhere alone. But this is my longest trip ever on a bike. I cannot wait to get my own! I put the destination out of my mind for at least half the trip. I talked with Dora and also, sort of, at her. I talked about our dresses, how they looked so nice. And the dance, I asked what music they might play. I asked if there would be a DJ, if it was a student, if they took requests, if they might play disco music. I asked if she was going to dance, and assured her that I most certainly was.

    I was smart, Diary. I didn't talk about Ashley OR Winter. It was all about dresses and the dance. I mentioned Nyx's sister, how she's really, really good at makeup. I plan on asking her to help me with my makeup for the dance. She's super nice. I like her bunches.

    I'm sure some of my chatter was probably lost on Dora, but that's ok. I wanted to talk, mostly to keep her focused on something other than killing Marsha. That really seems to bother her. Killing someone IS wrong, I know that. But Marsha was EVIL, and that means it wasn't so bad. Right, Diary?

    Once we got to her street, either Dora told me to hush or I just realized I should be quiet, I can't remember. We hid her bike in the bushes and snuck up to the back door, which was just like Harriet the Spy, very exciting. I'm not so great at being sneaky, but Dora is. I followed her lead."
  • [Holly]

    Holly whispers from Teddy's back, "Do you know where it is, Dora?" She's got a hand on Teddy's back as she works at the back door, looking around back and forth for someone to suddenly walk up. Her quick nervous breaths puff out into the night like the Little Engine that Could.
  • edited October 2013
    Your chatter is kind of a comfort in the cold night, Holly, and so is just the effort of biking us over there, and the sense that at least I'm moving toward something, that maybe the King will be with me again. I don't really talk back much, part for practical reasons - you're talking into my ear, while I'm facing forward into the night - and also because I don't really want to talk about the dance. Just a little bit ago, I thought knew how dance night would be, but now ... I don't.

    You feel me shrug.

    "I think so. Sort of. Um, you be careful, Holly. I think there's something ... it feels wrong, here."
  • Okay, so you open the back door into the kitchen and go inside in the dark. It's cold. The utilities have been turned off by now, probably, considering you murdered her three months ago, Teddy. The inside is surprisingly cute, Martha Stewartish. Everything seems to stand as a monument to her. Clearly she tried to make a pretty home. There's a book on the kitchen table. From the white leather and the ribbon, it's probably a baby book. The refrigerator has a calendar with dates circled. A blurry printout which on closer inspection is a sonogram.

    You are right about the wrongness though. It's strong, crawling over your nerves like ghostly spiders.

    What are you doing?
  • [Holly]

    As they walk through the house, Holly pulls out her Diary and holds it to her chest like a security blanket, "Dora... this is pretty spooky." She licks dry lips, "Where-where is the dagger? Everything feels evil in here."

    In the dim light, Holly opens the diary and hastily scribbles:
    Dear Diary,

    We are in a dead woman's house. Dora needs a magic dagger for the Fairy King. Will this make him happy? Is Liam coming for the dagger, too?
  • [Holly]
    Gazing into the Abyss
    #DiceRoller( 2d6 )

    (+1 XP)
  • edited October 2013

    Hate to go back to the well, but I'd really like lucid and detailed visions, so I'll take drained.

    ETA: Realized Dark was highlighted, so that's an XP as well

    (+2 XP)
  • Didn't think this through, so unless you thought of it Holly, I'm like going by the light of my cell phone. So just seeing this in the glow of my screen, all this happy homemaker expecting mom stuff becoming visible as my eyes adjust ... I feel like I'm going to be sick. And I kind of hesitate, like should I find the box first, or go looking for Marsha's, you know, blackmail material?

    But actually, when I'm this close - I mean I get that he wants more than just the box, but still, when I'm this close to actually making progress, the King's need is sharper. I just know, you know, that when he's with me again everything will be so much easier, all of it. I need that. The secret door or whatever, it was downstairs? Is that downstairs-in-the-basement or downstairs-ground-floor?

    "Yeah, ... Holly, maybe you should, uh, just wait here? I think it's that way - I can get it ..."

    My fingers brushing the wrapped knife in my coat.
  • [Holly]

    Holly pulls out a small pen light and turns it on. She says quietly to Teddy, "I, uhm, use it to read Diary late at night." She shines around, letting Teddy lead wherever. Holly's eyes are wide, drinking in everything, excited by this little crime.

    "Where do we go?"
  • Holly... Dora actually needs the box to bind the shadowblade. More than than she's going to need energy for the binding ritual. You can give her some. And she's suffering under the absence of the King right now... it's filled up a part of her. She could diffuse that demand by being intimate with people, transferring his hold on her, but she seems to be choosing the mission. Strictly speaking "Happy" is not a term one uses for the King, but it will give him a foothold on dealing with the enemy, the unnamed darkness.

    Liam falls more and more under the influence of the Adversary. The corruption spreads. He will not be here this night, but as an active agent in search of the shadowblade... yes you see that, the night of the dance, there are alignments to consider, and blood... though who's is uncertain.

    Or maybe you have this backwards.... the King... He's afraid of the shadowblade, that much is clear. And after all, what has he done to the people you care for? Nyx, Myrii and Dora? It's true that the presence in this house is... unsettling. Unnatural. But Evil? It is powerful, and you are powerful. A vision of you... confident and knowing what to do, at ease... human. Even Renna. Yes, that's something that's possible if the right choices are made.

    Myrii... something catches on that too. A feeling. A vision. A fringe of woods near your apartment complex. Desperation and fear as a soul is drawn to the breaking point. Utter panic. Need, blinding need. Finally the tension is released, the other end close again, but you're so weak. Tired.


    Brushing the shadowblade give you a sharp frisson up your arm.

    The door... yes it was downstairs, in the basement. Cleverly concealed. The vision of it is somewhat hazier now. The dream images slippery and hard to hold. There's the king in you, yes, a surge of will as he feels you accomplishing the task. But there's an equal pressure from the outside. From an the energy of.... of wrong is the only way to explain it. Not wrong like evil or bad. Wrong like utterly alien. Something that doesn't exist but does. Simultaneously repulsive and seductive. The tiniest thought. Idea. In the very, very back of your brain, like a draft under a door. Complete the task? Forget it. You could... possibly... make a new deal entirely.

    What do you do?
  • I shrug it off - I still trust the King. He'll make things alright if I hold up my end. Just have to do this, get it done. Holly, I guess you're not gonna wait, so I like, I tell you to keep your gloves on, and be careful your light can't be seen from the street, right? And I take your hand and lead you on into the house.

    "Okay, well, we need to find the basement ..."

    Maybe there's a door like that here in the kitchen? If there isn't, I like lead you into the hall, Holly, looking.
  • The door you're looking for is in the kitchen actually, over there next to the refrigerator. A nicely painted door which you think is white but in the gloom it's hard to tell. It's narrow. I mean when you checked it, you thought it might just be a pantry or something. But opening it reveals very steep wooden stairs descending into blackness.

    Holly's little flashlight gives you enough light that you can only discern the landing at the bottom. The portion of it you can see isn't finished. Holly... the last time you were in a basement like this one things weren't so good. So maybe that adds to the jitters, right?
  • edited October 2013
    I don't know, how much does this bother you, Holly? I'm starting down, like carefully, taking the first step and letting go of your hand to reach up and forward, kind of putting my hand on the steep ceiling for balance. Not feeling incredibly great about going down into a dark evil hole, but you know.

    I'm kind of straining every sense I have, seeing if I can, I don't know, see anything or hear anything or anything anything. I remember I dreamt something like these black, uh, ribbons? Tentacles? Like tentacles of nothingness reaching through the house. That bit is actually really creeping me out, and even more because I can't exactly remember that part of the dream.

    And this pressure, this sense of menace and wrongness just weighing down - putting these ideas in my head. The one hand's out for balance, and I guess I'm not sure when it happened, but now the blade is in my other hand? It's wrapped up in like an old dish towel, duck-taped to keep it from unwrapping. The butt of the knife is sticking out a little, the only part you can really touch.
  • [Holly]

    Standing at the top of the stairs, peering down into the gloom. "D-D... Dora," Holly says with a trembling voice, "I don't wanna. I don't wanna go down there. It looks like the Buh... the Bays."

    "You... you've got the knife out? But, but what if it isn't evil, Dora? What if he's afraid of it because it could hurt him? May-maybe we should go see Myrii or some.... something." Holly takes a single step down, onto the stairs, her forehead beaded with sweat. She takes a couple more steps, quickly, like she's forcing herself to catch up, and she puts a hand on Teddy's shoulder. A connection, Holly won't give up on Teddy.
  • I'm shaking my head, "I talked to Myrii - she says we have, I have to get rid of it. It's ... we have to get rid of it. Look, you can, uh - you can stay here, if you want. It'll just be a minute?"

    I'm kind of hesitating there, since I don't really want to go down there alone. But I take another step, going carefully with my hand up on the ceiling. And then another.
  • [Holly]

    "No, no, I'm here." Holly whispers, "I'm here for you, Dora. I can do it. You-you can do it. Let's just be quick. Quick as cats." She rubs Teddy's shoulder warmly, tries to offer a confidant smile, but fails. But she is here.
  • Cats? So we're going down, in the light of your little pen light.
  • edited October 2013
    The tiny beam doesn't do a lot to cut the darkness. The chill that you feel is both physical and metaphysical as you descend slowly on steep, creaking wooden steps. Its not unlike walking straight into a chilly pond. The dark seems to have a sort of soupy quality.

    But you do finally reach the bottom, your feet touching the concrete floor. It's old and has heaved and split into irregular chunks, like large flagstones. Dark liquid-made stains cover the walls. Probably water. You glance around with the thin beam struggling not to be swallowed by the darkness. Over in one corner you see a large shed like structure, made of old wood, floor to ceiling. Some sort of basement pantry. The weathered plank door hangs at an angle and has hinges right out of some medieval movie.

    There are skittereing sounds. Almost auditory hallucinations, like you're not sure they're really there. You're pretty sure the secret door is in the back of the pantry. You're not sure how long you stand there in the darkness before beginning to move again. But you only take a few steps before you hear a distinct creak of the beams above your head.

    You don't seem to be alone.
  • edited October 2013
    I'm kind of, like, I look at you Holly, and I'm paralyzed with indecision. What should we do? I'm certain it's Ashley up there, for a second, but then I'm like, well, I mean it could be anyone. It could be a cop saw a light while driving by. It could be, you know ... the enemy or whatever. The King said, or was it Myrii, or ... I don't remember, but Marsha wasn't the only one like her, and maybe I've just like brought the knife right into their hands?

    I don't know, I guess if you don't do anything better, I hesitate a long moment, then pull away toward the, the pantry or whatever it is. Just, you know, to go somewhere. Though that's totally a bad idea, isn't it, MC? With the doors like that, I don't know how I could open it without all kinds of like squealing hinges, so I don't know, should I be holding steady or something? Anyway, that's where I'm going, scuffing on the irregular stones.
  • Yes, you both probably need to hold steady, really.
  • [Holly]

    Holding Steady
    #DiceRoller( 2d6+2 )
  • #DiceRoller( 2d6 )
  • [Holly]

    Holly senses Teddy's indecision, and says, "Tell me where to go. I can do it, Dora."
  • Because you're basically awesome, Holly, you get to pick one of the holding steady options - remove a condition or whatever.

    I'm actually gonna keep my cool, though, so I don't know Holly. I'm less worried about that, and more like ... I don't want to be found. Except, but then if that's Ashley up there, hiding down here would basically just be leaving her to poke around and find Marsha's horrible blackmail material, wouldn't it?

    But I said I was pulling away toward the pantry thing, and I am. Getting up to the doors, brushing the rough, damp wood as I find the latch or whatever. Is the wood all big heavy planks, or thin and rotten, or what? My cool is kept, so like, can I open the thing without making a ton of noise? Or do I figure out that's impossible? Is it hanging ajar, or is there like a wide gap between the door and the floor?

    I'm whispering back at you Holly, super-low, like, "In here ... I think. Who is that?"
  • [Holly]

    MC, since Holly rolled Hold Steady so well, I get to ask you a question!

    Who is really upstairs walking around?
  • The person upstairs is Adam Walsh... Marsha's ex, the reporter that Ashley works for.
  • What about the, uh, the pantry here, MC?
  • Oh sorry.

    The wood is old, for sure. Not flimsy, but solid. There is a pretty big space at the bottom. Unless the hinges are well oiled they'll probably squeak, but it's hard to tell how loud. I suppose it won't be a ton of noise, but there isn't much else making noise in the house right now.
  • [Holly]

    Holly moves close enough to whisper in Teddy's ear, "The reporter is upstairs right now, Dora." Her eyes are wide and worried in the fleeting light.
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