Bellum Letale--A Pre-Made Roleplaying Community

[Slipped under the door of R1]

In a clear plastic bag

[After finding this.]

Somebody forgot a box in the hall. It's got a little--loud--cat in it.

Are you going to come back and pick it up?

There is nothing particularly memorable about what is left in a hole-riddled box outside of R1. It's small and dirty and it's sure to be more trouble than it's worth.

( Box )

[This reply comes two days late]

TO: The Mask With No Mouth (yondershadow@bellumletale.com)
FROM: favoritethings@bellumletale.com
SUBJECT: Query

Do you ever think something is going to make you feel better, only to have it not make you feel better at all? I mean something you've longed for, for a very long time. Not a small meaningless something. Something looming and everything.

[A few hours after this.]

TO: favoritethings@bellumletale.com
FROM: The Mask With No Mouth (yondershadow@bellumletale.com)
SUBJECT: Thank you

I don't feel worthy of such a gift, especially since it has sentimental value to you. Still, I will attempt to thank you as much as I can through mere words, although I doubt how effective it will be.

You truly are a rare jewel, for a genuinely kind heart is not something one encounters very often these days. The music box is beautiful, as is the tune it plays. I have always been fond of music.

You said you would bring your parents back. I too have lost mine, but I'm not sure if I would bring my father back if I could. My mother, of course - part of changing my entire life would include the chance to know her. Perhaps my relationship with my father could be different, if we started again from the very beginning.

It is too late for me to become an entirely different person. Despite my moments of regret, I might not want to even if I had the chance. But if you knew me, truly knew who I was, you would agree that I would be much improved if I were an entirely different person.

[left the morning after this conversation]

( The box is small enough to fit into the palm of the hand, and it's left behind the main staircase on the first floor. Inside, there is a note. )

TO: favoritethings@bellumletale.com
FROM: The Mask with No Mouth (yondershadow@bellumletale.com)
SUBJECT: (NO SUBJECT)

Thank you for the book, beautiful. Shakespeare was quite the romantic, wasn't he? There really is a sonnet for all - from the men who love women with eyes who are nothing like the sun, the dark-haired beauty... to the chaste, romantic sort of love portrayed in the line you recited for me that night.

Tell me, has anyone ever read a sonnet to you, as Shakespeare might have to the one he loved?

In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights,
then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have expressed,
even such a beauty as you master now.

( posted onto bulletin boards over the original poster )

[post- forum post]

( Fliers Scattered Throughout The Building )

( The day after the masquerade: A book, left prominently on the entryway table of the building, with a note on the outside )

( During the course of the Masquerade, this was slipped under the door of 104. )

( Left in an unmarked envelope under 601's door )

(Taped over a flier for the masquerade on the bulletin board in the lobby is the following note.)

( a note )

( Left outside 804 )

[Left hanging from the doorknob of every unit in the building on a white chord. Except: P3, who receives nothing. 1104 and 1203, who receive the pure silver cross and chain (pictured) as the doorknob holder]

( On the second day of Christmas... )

[Hung on every door in the building except P3]

( No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. )

Hello, and welcome to the third Bellum Letale feedback post. Your concerns are very important to us. All comments will be made anonymous for resident privacy, and to promote honesty.

{The voice post this time is not a recording of the text of the post. There is silence for the first five seconds, and then what sounds like a record player kicks on. The pops and crackles unique to spinning vinyl enter the track. At first, there is only static.

Then the voices of children come in, soft and indistinct, seeming far away. They sound like they're playing, and their voices echo. Small, pounding footsteps come closer and closer, then scramble to a stop. They speak in hushed voices. The quality of the recording makes what they are saying difficult to make out. The listener can, however, easily identify the voice of a boy and two girls. The boy says "What is that?" and then something indistinct. The girl exclaims something excitedly, then "I'm dropping my nickle in!"

There is the sound of soft footsteps on stone, almost too quiet to hear, and then the girl's voice, suddenly clear, says "Wow! So deep."

There is a cracking sound. Then there is a shriek.

This is followed by a splash, then screaming, then another splash. A few more splashes follow, and the objects making them sound weighty.

For a moment things are quiet. A girl's voice can be heard sobbing, softly, for the next few minutes. She slowly eases to a stop, only hiccuping every once in a while. There are footsteps again, close, closer, and then the girl's voice is clear, as if she has suddenly stepped up to a hidden microphone, as she screams. It is an unholy, bloodcurdling noise. The voice of the boy is back, and he sounds light-hearted and happy despite the fact that his joyful exclamation mingles with her scream.

"C'mon in!"

There is a final splash, thrashing noises that start swift and then slow. Then silence. Silence. Silence. And the track clicks to a stop.}

{Someone is clearly very upset with #1007. This was slipped under her door this afternoon.}

( blood runs thicker )

((backdated a liiiittle to early this morning. very early this morning))

[Well, well. What's this? It looks like someone is trying to make amends, doesn't it? Or at least give the impression that they are.

Five lucky people will find a basket of food outside their door, a cream white envelope taped to each. The food is all carefully arranged on rather expensive-looking plates, wrapped tightly in saran wrap to maintain the freshness.

The content of each basket differs slightly, but all contain a generous portion of turkey, and at least one (or more) of the following: stuffing, mashed potatoes, sausage, bread rolls, salad, and a slice of apple pie. Every basket includes a small box of Godiva chocolates and a bottle of expensive wine.

Each envelope has the proper room numer on the front, with the subsequent note inside. None are signed. As well, the basket for 1104 also includes a bouquet of calla lilies.]

[Inserted through everyone's mail slot, or tucked into their mail boxes, is a bag filled with assorted homemade cookies. The bags are tied closed by an orange ribbon with a tag attached to it. The tag is leafed shape and reads: "Everyone has something to be thankful for. Even if it's a small bag of cookies." These are all handwritten but there is no name written on them.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!]