RECORDING 10: THE FOURTH WEEK.

[foundationmods]

A fourth week in this place begins, with less of your number among you. The last trial took it's toll, along with the death of an innocent person - executed at behest of the rules of this game.

When you wake up - it's clear the Miasma has yet again gotten thicker. Everyone, including those who were divinely protected until this week, are now even more deeply affected by the curse - though those who possess nullification powers are still safe. Arguments will be flaring up more, along with negative thoughts and feelings...and even more worrying is now that occasional flashes of bad memories will come to the forefront.

Any magic that touches the house itself will corrode over time, just like last week. If a barrier is put in place and touches the floor, walls, or ceiling, in half a day it will be completely consumed by the miasma and fizzle out. Spells or seals will also corrode, and now healing has been drastically reduced to even the most powerful of spells only healing minor injuries.

You will not be able to save a grievously injured person from death through spells anymore.

The Temperature still remains in about the 60's, thankfully - though it is staying on the 'lower' end of the scale. As before, the rooms have changed, so hopefully you kept anything essential in the static area.

21 of your number still remain.

...What new horrors await you this week?


WARNING: Some investigations of new areas will contain traps that may be harmful or even lethal.
MIASMA LEVEL: 3
Monday - Tuesday - Wednesday - Thursday
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Comments

[kaliedoscopes]

Nesta...Nesta's hope... [ A flutter on the wind as he dives into the memories he read not that long ago, searching the words and connections. Subete may have begun to lean into the present, but Hikage is now leaning into the past; diverted attention quipping out a casual response. ]

That would be forward, not backward. [ And then he blinks, not so much coming up for air but being popped out of the water by a breaker from below. ]

Soundtrack?

[noneforall]

Don't say her name.

[Irritably, with some of that same cold quality it had before but also probably because Hikage keeps doing this and though this time he's snapping for a different reason -- Subete still manages to dredge up old grievances. That's just the way it is.

It's maybe a testament to the fact that he's still waking up, in a way, but Hikage is still allowed to remain where he is and Subete just shakes his head and closes his eyes again.]

It would be back. Home, that is. [...] What was that music?

[kaliedoscopes]

[ He might have pushed back if he wasn't distracted in several different ways, but acquiescence is acquiescence, particularly when it comes to them. But maybe he knows not when to push his luck too, if only sometimes. ]

That's almost cheating. [ Rote, like his mind can't let him concede two points in a row. Even his tone is mechanical and flat, more so than it was just moments ago. A hand goes up to rake through his bangs and there's a lengthy silence that fills the air. When he finally speaks, a clear softness in his voice eclipses everything else. ]

You heard it? I thought it was just....it was just familiar. [ This isn't him being stubborn or dismissive like so any times before, nor is it laced with the singsong of that night in library. This is the entire truth, some thing he let slip through the space between the past and present as everything comes back into focus. ]

Someone used to sing it to me.

[noneforall]

[He's still mostly curled in on himself, gathered in bits and pieces in the darkness hiding behind his eyelids and under the pile of pages next to them and skulking the halls between the house's spaces; he settles back into himself like a stone in the stream of today letting pushbacks flow and fade. These currents are far older, though -- like the melody, like the grinding quality of his voice before he drops it further.]

I can't help it, if cheating is how you play.

[It's absent, less mechanical and more blurry than Hikage's retort, perhaps not as pointed as the words should be. Sound washes over him, clear enough to burn without his sight to diffuse it, and perhaps that's just the way it should be right now.

He leans his head just a little into the yielding truth flowing between the cracks they've both created.]

But of course I heard it. It was the only thing... [the sentence fades to nothing after a moment, not quite a stumble but he takes a breath like he needs to pick it back up, like the rest of him] Ah. A piece of a memory for a piece.

It's been a long time since I've heard such a thing.

[kaliedoscopes]

[ He can let that note go for several reasons: it's not two points in a row anymore and he's latched onto another point, or rather its latched onto him like a particularly troublesome burr he brushed up against. And that's really all it was, a minute action and a brief hum between his lips.

He opens his mouth to deny it and it digs deeper. He takes a breath and he can feel it there too, a tightness in his chest that somehow feels familiar. There are so many things he's kept to himself here and in the past, even in the future (though the reasons will be different then), and here it should be much the same. Opening his mouth is simply another way of trying to dislodge what's now stuck in his core.

His words are delicate, thin and transparent like crepe paper. ]

It was like that for me too. It was the only nice thing she ever... [ A pause, a breath; the dam can't break just yet. ]

How long ago?