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Day 14.
Weather: It’s a crisp, cool autumn day. I mean, probably. Operating under the assumption that it IS still autumn, and everyone wasn’t in some crazy soap opera coma for six months.
Events: HERE’S THE GOOD NEWS: the elevator at City Hall going down to the bouncy obstacle course is still operational. You can still go there anytime you want. Have fun! Chill out! Let your inner child run crazy.
Here’s the not so good news: everything else that happens today.
It’s not that it’s precisely bad. It’s just a very strange day. How each individual character decides to interpret and deal with that strangeness is entirely up to them.
Settling the easiest matter first, Kai has been removed, and Daphne has been put into the house. No explanation or announcement on either case.
Next, the first time anyone turns on their computer they’re gonna find something waiting for them. Not a message. Not precisely. Actually, it’s going to look like someone else was on their computer. There will be a couple of random programs open on the taskbar, and Notepad will be left on top. It’s going to appear that someone got on their computer, dicked around a little, typed something in notepad and turned the monitor off. What’s typed isn’t anything particularly threatening, and some might even recognize it immediately. It’s the nursery rhyme One For Sorrow.
So, sure, that’s weird, and it may even freak someone out, but in the grand scheme of things in this place it’s not all that weird. People are probably going to be a hell of a lot more concerned about the birds.
Yes, that’s right. Birds. The common magpie, to be exact. They’re all over the place. Starting around eleven in the morning they start becoming more and more common outside - something that’s going to be incredibly noticeable for a couple of reasons. One, aside fromBucky the stag and the octopus, no one’s seen any wildlife in Zenith. Two, there’s only a handful of characters in the house from the regions where magpies are common. The birdsong is honestly a little jarring, simply because it highlights the absence of all other wildlife sounds. No one’s heard so much as a cricket in the past fourteen days (at least, those that have been here since the beginning). Finally, if anyone decides to go birdwatching (because hey, why the hell not), they might realize that the occasional bird has something small and shiny tied to one of their legs. Catching one to find out what the hell it is isn’t going to be all that easy, however.
But wait, there’s more. From midnight to midnight, at the seventh minute of any given hour (12:07, 1:07, 2:07, etc), something is going to be heard at random locations through-out the house. It's a voice. It’s not coming from the PA, or anything like that. In almost every case, it’s going to sound like it’s coming from inside the room. A closet, a cupboard, the bathroom -- somewhere unseen but terribly near. The voice is muffled and in some cases not at all clear, but it’s there. It’s not always the same, either. In no way is it obviously a recording -- again, in most cases, it’s going to sound as though it’s coming from a living, breathing, hiding person. But that person can never be found. This happens in every bedroom at least once while the occupant is in it, and every public room at least twice.
Weather: It’s a crisp, cool autumn day. I mean, probably. Operating under the assumption that it IS still autumn, and everyone wasn’t in some crazy soap opera coma for six months.
Events: HERE’S THE GOOD NEWS: the elevator at City Hall going down to the bouncy obstacle course is still operational. You can still go there anytime you want. Have fun! Chill out! Let your inner child run crazy.
Here’s the not so good news: everything else that happens today.
It’s not that it’s precisely bad. It’s just a very strange day. How each individual character decides to interpret and deal with that strangeness is entirely up to them.
Settling the easiest matter first, Kai has been removed, and Daphne has been put into the house. No explanation or announcement on either case.
Next, the first time anyone turns on their computer they’re gonna find something waiting for them. Not a message. Not precisely. Actually, it’s going to look like someone else was on their computer. There will be a couple of random programs open on the taskbar, and Notepad will be left on top. It’s going to appear that someone got on their computer, dicked around a little, typed something in notepad and turned the monitor off. What’s typed isn’t anything particularly threatening, and some might even recognize it immediately. It’s the nursery rhyme One For Sorrow.
One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret,
Never to be told.
Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten for a bird,
You must not miss
So, sure, that’s weird, and it may even freak someone out, but in the grand scheme of things in this place it’s not all that weird. People are probably going to be a hell of a lot more concerned about the birds.
Yes, that’s right. Birds. The common magpie, to be exact. They’re all over the place. Starting around eleven in the morning they start becoming more and more common outside - something that’s going to be incredibly noticeable for a couple of reasons. One, aside from
But wait, there’s more. From midnight to midnight, at the seventh minute of any given hour (12:07, 1:07, 2:07, etc), something is going to be heard at random locations through-out the house. It's a voice. It’s not coming from the PA, or anything like that. In almost every case, it’s going to sound like it’s coming from inside the room. A closet, a cupboard, the bathroom -- somewhere unseen but terribly near. The voice is muffled and in some cases not at all clear, but it’s there. It’s not always the same, either. In no way is it obviously a recording -- again, in most cases, it’s going to sound as though it’s coming from a living, breathing, hiding person. But that person can never be found. This happens in every bedroom at least once while the occupant is in it, and every public room at least twice.