Panophobia (IC Thread)

[Katie]

Gwendolyn Bright
Servant's Quarters

“I, er…”

Sarah’s reply was unfathomably cold. Professionally detached, like a coroner inspecting the body. Gwendolyn wanted to help this man, she really did, but there were so many unknowns and her partner had decided to assume everything would go wrong. And she wasn’t a fighter. If she was caught by whatever it was, she would be six feet under, without a doubt.

“W-we’ll come back, okay?”

It’s the only solace of mercy she can give to the poor ghost before she follows Sarah’s lead, hesitant and uncertain.

[arkturus]

Kat Auburn
Den, 1F

"FUCK!"

Kat coughed as a cloud of dust blew into her face and waved her hand in a feeble attempt to fan it out of her face.

As the dust settled surveyed the damage before her. The bed frame had fallen through the floor (ceiling) and was now sitting in a pile of sticks. Luckily since the place was abandoned, the last time anyone slept in that bed was probably years ago.

Which meant she wasn't going to get yelled at for destroying it.

Go team.

Satisfied with the unnecessary collateral damage, Kat walked over to where the knob landed after almost putting a hole in her (extremely) cute face.

The knob seemed to be in surprisingly good shape and briefly she wondered if it would still work if she stuck it on some random knobless-door.

Yeah right, like that could work.

She tossed it up into the air a few times before stuffing it in her pocket. Maybe she could play catch later. Ya know, after finding everyone else.

Speaking of which, there's supposed to be another group around right? Maybe she should go regroup with them, what with the crazy ghost monsters running around. After all, someone had to protect those dweebs.

Kat turned to leave, but something caught her eye. A small dent where the knob met the wall. A tear in the wallpaper. Small signs of uncharacteristically shoddy redecorating for such a posh mansion. Did this family have something to hide?

...

It had to be buried treasure.

She had a hutch.

Frantically, Kat tore away at the wallpaper, hellbent on uncovering the secrets held within.

[Mormarth]

Sarah and Gwendoline

You depart from the Servant's Quarters, the lingering specter of the family patriarch looking on as you depart, expressionless as you shut the door behind you.

A curious finality settles over the pair of you, and you proceed through the bowels of the ancient mansion, hushed by the hallowed tomb-like halls that surround you, the peeling wallpaper akin to off-white funeral shawls.

In a very real sense, you feel, you are journeying through the hollowed-out corpse of something once great, picking your way through the vermin and filth that still linger in the depths.

You push on through the hallway, reaching the door at the end, last one on the right, as the shade said.

The wooden portal is large and dark, the wood stately in its decomposure, tarnish brass knobs are paired near the mid section.

Sarah reaches first, firm in her cold composure, grasps the twined handles in a stoic grip, then slowly, achingly, pries them open, Gwendoline lingering behind fretfully, over-large knife grasped in unfamiliar hands.

[Arrived in Den, 1F]

Kat Auburn
Den, 1F

Yes, indeed. You had latched upon that hint, that telling detail with your unmatched deductive skill. Your hands claw at the wallpaper, it comes off in strips, discolored and peppered with the leavings and remnants of vermin. On and on you rip and tear, hungry for adventure, for secrets hidden behind flimsy disguise.

Your nails scrap, at last, not against paper, or the fluff-ridden innards of the manse, but iron, cold metal greets your questing grip like a glowing statue of gold that you were so accustomed to.

Having found your prize, you pay no heed to the approaching steps from the hall, as you fully uncover the iron plate, the door moans open behind you.

Your hand, coated with dust, detrius and decay, feels out an indentation in what you are now sure is some manner of door.

You clear away the rest easily, easily picking and prying away any leftovers as you look upon your prize with the merry air of a conquistador.

The door is metal, untarnished by the weight of years, it is colored, you see, a dark, encompassing blue, like a harsh bruise, or the deep ocean.

There is no handle that you can see, but there is that indentation you felt out earlier, now fully exposed.

It is similar to a star, you feel, no, more like twin triangles interlocked together, ancient symbols engraved on the points.

You recognize it from your aunt's ruminations and grumblings.

[The Seal of Solomon.]

Foyer Squad

You meet back up together, the seven of you pausing for a brief, calming moment, the glow from your flashlights seem brighter, almost, deeper.

It's soothing.

You make some quiet, idle conversation as you move forward, the mansion growing clearer, more distinct in the presence of so many lights, Lee's faint whines and growls of unease die down as you all move forward.

Still, as you all move forward, despite the solidity of your lights, you begin to make out what Remington meant with his words, the mansion has shifted, altered by whatever malign influence that has infested the heart of this place.

Where once before you stood the grand staircase down, there is a great, black gate, carved out of the walls, you notice faint wallpaper, hollow-eyed puppies and merry boats ripped asunder by some unseen force.

"Cheery, isn't it."

Your teacher scowls at the gate before you, rubbing at his face, "Looks like it's either one of the 'fun' ones, or it's still half-asleep."

He turns to you, "Alright, while we do appear to have been sucked into some manner of horrible hellish parody of what this place once was, it still operates with certain rules. Themes. These things have to follow them, it gives them permanence, density, shape."

He faces Jill more firmly, "Miss Dumont, you and Miss Auburn fought something, right? What did it do? What was it like, could give us something to go on."

[Airen]

Sarah Parker
Foyer

"..."

She didn't have much to say.

Having gone silent again when the group reunited, the only emotion she had shown a brief moment of surprise when almost everyone had managed to wind up back together again, the dark-haired teenager just quietly observed the proceedings.

She had some experience with ghosts.

Not a lot by any means, in fact, if you wanted to be hyper picky about it, she had only had a single experience with them, even so...

"..."

It was enough for the perpetually sleepy girl...

To keep a more or less alert eye on her surroundings.