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I recall that the people went about with pale and worried faces, and whispered warnings and prophecies which no one dared consciously repeat or acknowledge to himself that he had heard. A sense of monstrous guilt was upon the land, and out of the abysses between the stars swept chill currents that made men shiver in dark and lonely places.
–H.P. Lovecraft, Nyarlathotep
[It's quiet out in the city. The sun perpetually hangs over the horizon, granting illumination to the cobbled streets even after nighttime. Under any other circumstances, perhaps taking a stroll from the Botanical Gardens back to the motel would have been peaceful — but. Well. That's not really the case here. Not with the murders and trials hanging over everyone's heads, alongside this week's night terrors.

It's no wonder that as Quer heads out of the gardens, intent of returning to the motel, that misfortune strikes. Now, it's time to set the scene.]
[i tried to find a good meme about dps but i couldn't so please pretend i made a joke about three hot dps walking into a knife.]
[The scene plays out as it always does. Emily is covered in blood before entering the Dark Room, the oppressive presence reduced to only a slight pressure. The sigils and circles have been drawn in their usual spot, and the ceramic basin lays in the center of the room. When Emily takes a look inside, she will find five toes — all of them from a foot.

It's time for the conversation to begin.]
[It's late on Thursday night. What little alcohol could be salvaged from the Lounge has been taken away for this "special" occasion, transported to the Library where both of our protagonists for the night will have a friendly chat. Or, well... As friendly as a chat can be, between a murderer and his next victim.

Now, what conversation is taking place?]
[no one told me where to set this so instead you get this



bruh]

For this week, there will be no sudden loss of control for those who have signed their souls away for the greater good. As long as they're in the Curio Shop by 6:05 PM on Monday, nothing out of the ordinary will happen. All they must do is knock on the shop's door, carefully as if to not draw attention towards themselves, and the door will creak open by itself much like the previous week.

As per usual, inside this strange room they'll find Craftly seated at a round table. Shelves of antiques line the walls and the smell of peppermint tea wafts through the air. A thin tendril slips across the table from Craftly's sleeve, hooking around his cup of tea. As smug as ever, he smiles to the group.

"Come in, Hunters. It's time for us to begin".




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On Sunday night, as soon as the grandfather clocks mark 6:00, a voice will speak to you. The tone may vary from person to person, the voice's pitch shifting and changing to suit her facilitators's needs — but the words will remain the same. Similarly for all those who can hear it, they'll suddenly find themselves captivated by it.

"Come now, little ones. It's time to partake."


And just like that, you find yourself drawn towards the nearest mirrored surface on the wall, somehow managing to avoid calling the attention of anyone who might be in the room with you. Though this is your first time participating in the ritual, knowledge still floods your mind. A light press of your hand against the mirror, and you will find yourself capable of stepping through the previously solid surface and into the shrine room. Here, you find yourself accompanied by two (2) other individuals. And though your handler can't be physically among you, you still feel her presence enveloping you and saturating the air in this room.

Glance up, and through the glass ceiling you'll be able to see her in all her glory.

It seems it's time for this week's sacrifice to be chosen.


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[Like before, Emily's hands and forehead are slathered in cool blood in preparation for the ritual. She's made to sit in the middle of the circle, a coppery stench filling her nostrils as her back faces the only exit in the room. Next to her is the usual white basin, dried blood staining its edges as a severed hand stares back at her.

Craftly will stick around in case his assistance is needed, but won't participate in the conversation. Though neither Dave nor Emily will be able to see each other, they will still be able to hear their voices as clearly as if they were speaking in person. Now, it's up to the Medium to initiate the conversation.]
[no one told me where to start this off so instead you get this

]
[It's past curfew. The sun hands lazily over the horizon — always present, always watching. There is a chill in the air, cold enough to send shivers down your spine while numbing your fingertips.

Though Kaiba definitely remembers heading to his room on time, he will suddenly find himself standing in the middle of the Parking Lot. There is (presumably) no one around at this hour, all current survivors adhering to the curfew established in the rulebook.

So, what now?]

For this week, there will be no sudden loss of control for those who have signed their souls away for the greater good. As long as they're in the Curio Shop by 6:05 PM on Monday, nothing out of the ordinary will happen. All they must do is knock on the shop's door, carefully as if to not draw attention towards themselves, and the door will creak open by itself much like the previous week.

As per usual, inside this strange room they'll find Craftly seated at a round table. Shelves of antiques line the walls and the smell of peppermint tea wafts through the air. A thin tendril slips across the table from Craftly's sleeve, hooking around his cup of tea. As smug as ever, he smiles to the group.

"Come in, Hunters. It's time for us to begin".




( quick navigation )
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hunter's handbook

On Sunday night, as soon as the grandfather clocks mark 6:00, a voice will speak to you. The tone may vary from person to person, the voice's pitch shifting and changing to suit her facilitators's needs — but the words will remain the same. Similarly for all those who can hear it, they'll suddenly find themselves captivated by it.

"Come now, little ones. It's time to partake."


And just like that, you find yourself drawn towards the nearest mirrored surface on the wall, somehow managing to avoid calling the attention of anyone who might be in the room with you. Though this is your first time participating in the ritual, knowledge still floods your mind. A light press of your hand against the mirror, and you will find yourself capable of stepping through the previously solid surface and into the shrine room. Here, you find yourself accompanied by two (2) other individuals. And though your handler can't be physically among you, you still feel her presence enveloping you and saturating the air in this room.

Glance up, and through the glass ceiling you'll be able to see her in all her glory.

It seems it's time for this week's sacrifice to be chosen.


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[It's late, more Monday morning than Sunday night. The execution has come and gone, undoubtedly as gruesome as all those before it, and those who are still capable of sleep have retired to their beds. Others, haunted by the events of the last three weeks, may not be able to rest so easily. But curfew is curfew, and no one has yet to experiment with what would happen if that rule were broken.

In the relative safety of whatever room Akane has chosen to rest in tonight, she'll find herself suddenly on alert. Someone (or something) is messing with the door's lock.

What now?]
Tags:
[The first thing Marty will notice is the fact that, for some reason or another, he's no longer where he fell asleep last night.

Or, perhaps that won't be the first thing to captivate his attention. Perhaps it'll be the mess of blood in the Lounge — grotesque messages written in blood and a coppery stench filling the air. There is a corpse nearby; Rachel is slumped over in her wheelchair, still and unmoving. In his hand is a knife.

This seems kind of unfortunate.]
[As with the last time, preparations are made and blood is slathered into Emily's hands and forehead. When she is instructed to sit down in front of the white basin, she will find a pair of eyes staring back at her. The optic membrane is still attached, rapidly drying blood staining the porcelain.

Strangely enough, they're the same color Omega's eyes used to be.

Craftly will stick around in case his assistance is needed, but won't participate in the conversation. Though neither Omega nor Emily will be able to see each other, they will still be able to hear their voices as clearly as if they were speaking in person. Now, it's up to the Medium to initiate the conversation.]

For this week, there will be no sudden loss of control for those who have signed their souls away for the greater good. As long as they're in the Curio Shop by 6:05 PM on Monday, nothing out of the ordinary will happen. All they must do is knock on the shop's door, carefully as if to not draw attention towards themselves, and the door will creak open by itself much like the previous week.

As per usual, inside this strange room they'll find Craftly seated at a round table. Shelves of antiques line the walls and the smell of peppermint tea wafts through the air. A thin tendril slips across the table from Craftly's sleeve, hooking around his cup of tea. As smug as ever, he smiles to the group.

"Come in, Hunters. It's time for us to begin".



Welcome, Hunters! As of this week, you'll get the chance to either investigate one other character or arm them with a randomized weapon. If you have any questions, you can shoot us a quick PP or PM as always!

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