abhoth | ( THE MEDIUM )

Each Tuesday morning, you will wake up with a note in your hand. The handwriting is a little on the messy side, to the point where one might wonder if it was written in the middle of an earthquake, but it remains legible. It reads:

Dear Medium,

I will be waiting for you at 11:00 PM, in the Lounge. The bartender will allow you inside. Do try to be on time.

- The Innkeeper

Should you do as the note says and swing by the Lounge at the time specified, you will find Craftly sitting by the bar. A glass of something undoubtedly expensive is held up by one tendril, and he takes a sip as you enter the room. Next to him sits another glass, untouched and clearly meant for your consumption. It's non-alcoholic — probably. You might just have to take a sip to find out.

Once you've come closer, he will give you a grim smile and say:

"Come take a seat, Medium."

Welcome, Medium! To summarize the key aspects of what this role entails:

Each week, your character will meet with Craftly to select one character from the graveyard to have a private conversation with.
This private conversation will happen ICly on Wednesday. We'll help to coordinate for you and set the post up, so don't worry.
The private conversation won't be censored, but sharing information gained from the graveyard with the living might not be safe. Use caution if sharing your role.
Seeing as how the graveyard is super duper empty on Week 1, there won't be any choice to be made on this week.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Maybe the Great Demon Slayer... L'arachel, but... that's okay. I can talk to her next week if I need to. [:')] I think Dave can talk to the others too.

[She scribbles out, "A picture of Corvo, please." A+ rating because she got good drinks whenever she was here.] I thought I was going to turn into a rat.

I had paws, and then I had whiskers, and then I had a tail.

Is that what happened to you too? Mine went away... but I thought we would match. You would have tentacles, and I would have paws.

Very well. While I admit I have little knowledge of the happenings of the great beyond, I trust your departed friends to confer with one another.

[The faceless man takes the card and gives her butterscotch candy in return for the great rating. Bless you, Emily.]

Not quite, Emily. My appearance is the result of... a different affliction. What you and your friends experienced was but an illusion of this world, crafted to toy with your senses until you are made to spill blood. It's in rather bad taste, but it is what it is.

I hope so. Dave said he would try.

Oh. [Well, that's weird. Your wiggly hands are, like, permanent.] That's okay. No one else could tell I was turning into a rat. I thought maybe it was a trick. But that means yours isn't a trick.

Have you tried writing on the cards to ask for your hands back?

( THE MEDIUM )

no subject

no subject

no subject