Multiple Settings ᴍᴇᴍᴘʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀɴᴏʀ (IC)

[Frownist]

ᴍᴇᴍᴘʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀɴᴏʀ

ᴍᴇᴍᴘʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀɴᴏʀ

S

CENE I.

January 15th, 2025



The Memphis Manor’s doors had been sealed shut—not even light could sneak through its cracks.

With urgency, everyone walked around in confusion as the time continued to tick away. That is, until Lisha had brought up something of importance.

Her words were simple, “Let’s explore the manor in groups. We can try finding a way out then.” The awkwardness in the air prompted Lisha to choose said groups, and with no other suggestions thrown around, her plan commenced. The manor was large, with many floors, rooms, and hallways that seemed to lead to nowhere. Golden hued threads danced along the walls, perhaps indicative of where everyone else had disappeared to. Eventually, each group had found their desired location of interest.

Lisha had found her interest in the Manor’s library, and thus had convinced her group to make an impromptu pivot. Eli and Gwen had been the two to follow her.

Perhaps the doors would somehow open while everyone else was away or maybe a hint would arise. Regardless of the scenario, Artie and Jimin decided to stay back towards the main entrance.

The greenhouse seemed to be the only opening into the outside world, even if it laid behind pristine glass. Ryan, Rhu, and Harley decided to take a peek—even if it was something brief.

sugar coded ♡

 

[leviohsa]

ryan colwell

the fighter

T

he last thing Ryan wanted to do was stick around wandering throughout a stuffy old house in some country bumpkin town. So, the next best option seemed to be the greenhouse. The assigned "group" didn't really mean much to him, and if they wanted to follow, he wasn't going to stop them. "God, what a fuckin' drag..." He muttered, walking outside to find nothing but plants, all somehow still alive and in varying stages of life. Someone--or something-- was keeping them alive, but Ryan didn't see anyone other than the group of weirdos that he met just a few moments ago.

With an irritated huff, he pulled out his phone once again, seeing if maybe he'd get some signal now that he's outside. He blinked a few times at the 'SOS' marker in the top right of his screen. A silent, 'fuck you', as far as Ryan was concerned. He turned around to the two strangers who were now in the greenhouse with him, doing who-knows what, "You guys have any signal? There's no way in hell I'm staying here. I have a main event fight in two days that I cannot miss." He didn't expect these people to care, but he did expect to be out of here soon.

Ryan didn't even wait for them to answer before he looked around the greenhouse for some kind of exit. Eyes scanning the area for some kind of door. Or, maybe even a tool, in case things got a little hairy. He stuck out like a sore thumb in this dirty, plant-filled greenhouse. Designer shoes and golden necklaces shined bright against the natural sunlight peeking through the glass. "Seriously, what kind of sick joke is this? Stupid fucking thread doing nothing but ruining my goddamn life.." He was muttering to himself now, his eyes trying to ignore his said 'thread' being tugged towards the main entrance of the house. Instead, he kept impulsively pulling out his phone to see if signal miraculously came back, and being disappointed every time.

outfit:

location:

greenhouse

tags:

Shadow Alpha , KittyTangerine

 

[e v i]

Arturo Leon

the doctor

T

he Manor was a siren, calling each member deeper in its maze. Arturo had most often fallen into temptation, especially in his twenties, but age and experience had hardened his curiosities. Whether he went in or not, the Manor would still be standing, still be luring him in. And he had a bad day with his ankle. The group of people surrounded him, murmuring amongst themselves on how to ascertain the why's. Why were they there? Did the answer lie in the belly of bricks? There was an informally elected leader among them, a young woman with silver hair. Her voice was polished stone, and she suggested they split up in groups. The doctor leaned on his cane and all but two remained at the entrance.

Was he in a rush to find an answer? No. While he did not consider himself an expert on women with stares as cold as the young lady before him, he thought she hadn't the same sense of urgency. He walked, relying on his long dark cane to take him where he wished, and he observed a mirror hanging in the foyer. He smiled calmly.

"If you wish to go with the others, I hope I am not slowing you down, uh -- " he had not caught her name. Arturo turned around, his smile never fading and never reaching his amber eyes.
"I'm Arturo. Um, Artie, if you'd rather," he introduced himself politely, expecting her to do the same. Why she lingered, he was not sure, but it was not within him to complain.

outfit:

location:

main entrance

tags:

B E A R

 

[Frownist]

Lisha

. . .

T

he ragtag group had already tried various methods of escape. Phone calls; no signal. Every possible exit; completely sealed. It was like the inside of Manor existed in a space completely separate from Memphis, and possibly the rest of the world. As Lisha continued her stride ahead of the poor souls who followed her, a particularly grand door would pique her interest.

Lisha’s words were brief, “Let’s go in there.”

She didn’t wait for any kind of response or confirmation, instead choosing to steer right towards the place of interest. The doors gave way to an impossibly grand library, something taken straight out of fantasy. Shelves as high as the sky lined the walls, filled to the brim with old books, perhaps something that could tell them anything about the situation—but most importantly, the threads.

As the group shuffled through, Lisha’s gloved hands had already begun to brush against the spine of each book they passed. She was silent, despite the obvious astonishment in her eyes, something that was not present at all when Lisha had first spoken when they arrived.

outfit:

location:

library

tags:

Silent Child @ven

 

[KittyTangerine]

rhu ahluwhalia

the weaver

W

hat a rotten bout of bad luck and poor decision making. First some issue with the planes during the layover meant the connecting flight wouldn’t be leaving until the next day. But when Rhu woke the next morning in their hotel room, some freaky golden thread was wrapped around their wrist and trailing off to who knows where. With no one else who could see this thread to believe them, they cautiously sought answers at the end of where this thing led. But the sight of some large elaborate mansion surrounded by woods was something they wanted nothing to do with, and they turned to leave. Only to be forcibly dragged up the trail and into the house.

Now, Rhu found themself walking through this mansion with two others who had also been forced into this mess, rubbing their arm that still tingled from when it felt like it would have been ripped off. They had no reason to complain about being split into groups, better than everyone being alone in the freaky haunted house, and everyone had looked just as eager to find a way out.

“You're not the only one who has places to be. I was supposed to be in New York yesterday. Do you know how hectic things are less than a month before a fashion show? At the very least, if we are trapped, someone will notice us missing.” Rhu huffed, not that their own answer made them feel better. Being trapped in here for the days it would take to both realize they were missing and then actually search? No thank you.

But thinking back to the mention of phone signal, they pulled their own out, willing to believe they could have signal now that the only thing above them was glass. No such luck.

“Not a bar in sight.” was their sighed reply. Stowing the phone back in a pocket, they also began to meander through the rows of plants. Ending at one of the windowed walls, they inspected the glass for a moment.

Spotting a door once they had gone further in, they made a beeline for it, trying the doorknob and scowling as it wouldn't turn. A few more useless turns and yanking, they rammed the door with a shoulder.

“The hell why is it so damn sturdy?!” Rhu hissed before sulking away. Turning their gaze around the rest of the room, they headed for the shelves and storage.

“Well, this is all glass, right? Maybe if we find something solid we can try breaking out.”

outfit:

location:

greenhouse

tags:

Shadow Alpha , leviohsa

 

[B E A R]

eun, jimin

the combat medic

J

imin hadn’t followed the others—not because she disagreed, but because she didn’t see the point in chasing answers that hadn’t called her name. her arms crossed loosely as she stood near the entrance, eyes sweeping over the golden thread curling along the walls and the mirror that watched them like it had always been part of the manor’s design. her stance was steady, practiced; even in an unfamiliar place, she moved like someone who expected things to go wrong.

when arturo spoke, her gaze didn’t shift right away. his voice was too calm for a place like this. too relaxed for sealed doors and vanishing threads. she watched his reflection instead, studied the subtle smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. eventually, she replied—her voice low, even, not hostile but not inviting either. "you’re not slowing me down. i don’t walk with people unless i have to."

he introduced himself with that same polite calm, offered a name he didn’t seem too attached to. her eyes flicked to him then, steady and unreadable, before she finally gave a reply of her own. "jimin." nothing more than that. no last name. no warm tone. no invitation.

her fingers adjusted the strap on her shoulder with a small, habitual motion. she looked him over once, brief and silent, before adding, "arturo’s fine. you don't... quite look like an 'artie.'"

"you’re relatively calm," she said, not quite accusing, not quite impressed. "what are you—some kind of first responder? ex-cop?" her tone wasn’t sharp, but it carried weight, like she was used to reading people when it mattered. "most people freak out when trapped."

a beat passed. she didn’t move to follow the others. just stood there, still watching him like she hadn’t decided if he was trustworthy—or just another mystery threaded into the walls.

outfit:

location:

main entrance

tags:

e v i

 

[Silent Child]

Elijah Rowe

The Echo

E

li hadn’t planned on leaving that morning.

It had just happened. One moment, he was sitting at his desk, knees tucked beneath him on a weathered office chair, hunched over a half-finished logo for a boutique flower shop. The owner had insisted on something "country chic," with sunflowers, script fonts, and a mason jar motif that wasn’t “Pinterest-tier awful.” Eli had drawn six versions and hated them all. His eyes were foggy, jaw set tight, the half-empty tea mug beside him long gone cold.

Then the thread appeared.

Gold. Subtle, warm, and gently pulsing. It curled around his wrist like a soft command. He stared at it for maybe two seconds before reaching for it.

The second his fingers passed through the glow, something inside him recoiled. Not from pain- from *disobedience*. The thread pulled forward, like it knew exactly where it wanted him. He didn’t resist. Of course he didn’t.

He threw on the hoodie he wore when he didn’t want to be seen (which was most of them), the hem falling just past his hips. Slipped into his scuffed Converse, soles nearly smooth from wear. Didn’t pack a bag. The mirror in his pocket- cracked and old, once his mother’s- was the only thing he took. It was habit, like breath. Like apology.

The sky was still dark when he started driving, the houses on his street lit by nothing but porch lamps and the blue wash of early morning. He didn’t even check the GPS. The thread stretched ahead, glowing faintly along the windshield, pointing him through turns like some invisible compass.

The closer he got to Memphis, the quieter everything became. Not outside- there were cars and lights and the usual early chaos of city life- but inside. In him. A hush that settled over his thoughts like dust. He barely noticed how tightly his hands gripped the wheel until his knuckles ached.

And then the woods came.

Dense and strange, like they’d grown overnight. His headlights caught the gates of a manor that wasn’t on any map. The building itself loomed behind them, tall and silent, too still to be empty. It looked like it had been waiting.

---

Eli stood just inside the main doors, arms loosely crossed over his chest, fingers tapping rhythmically against the fabric of his hoodie. He didn’t try to speak. Didn’t make eye contact. His pale blue eyes tracked motion instead- shoes stepping across tile, shoulders turning, people shifting as they arrived.

His body was still. Not stiff. Just deliberately small. The kind of stillness born from years of trying not to provoke anything. His shoulders hunched slightly inward, and every so often he’d shift his weight from foot to foot, like standing too long in one spot made him *visible.*

When one of the others spoke- a tall woman with impossibly pale skin and flowing white hair- he blinked. Her voice was calm and distant, her expression unreadable. She didn’t offer suggestions, she laid plans. Something about the way she carried herself made Eli tense automatically. Her tone reminded him of cold dinner tables and unspoken expectations.

He followed because not doing so would’ve meant speaking.

---

Their group walked through the manor. Eli didn’t lead. He never did. He stayed behind, not trailing too far, but never at anyone’s side. His footsteps were light, nearly silent. His shoulders nearly brushed the wall as he moved, as if the space closer to the center of the hallway didn’t belong to him.

He watched them.

The pale woman ahead moved with precision, her clothes neat and high-end without shouting it. She didn’t want attention, but her presence pulled it anyway. She was beautiful in the cold, sculpted way statues were. Eli didn’t know her name, didn’t need to. He knew her type. Closed-off. Guarded. Made of sharp lines and self-control.

The other girl- bright-eyed, wrapped in pastel layers and thrifted softness- smiled like it was her only weapon. Her charm was warm, practiced, and carefully maintained. She had the energy of someone raised to treat every stranger like a neighbor.

He looked away quickly, not wanting to draw attention. He didn’t know how one would respond. He pulled his sleeves farther over his hands.

He hadn’t said a word since arriving.

Not when the doors shut.
Not when the groups were made.
Not even when his thread dissolved into the manor walls like it had never existed. It left behind a phantom itch around his wrist he couldn’t stop rubbing.

Every part of his body language screamed avoidance. He kept his head tilted slightly down, eyes flicking around the architecture rather than the people. His fingers moved constantly- tugging threads from his sleeves, running along the seam of his pocket, fidgeting with the fraying drawstring of his hoodie. He stayed out of arms’ reach, not because he feared violence, but because he feared *notice.*

Still, he watched.

Every room they passed, he catalogued. Every flicker of light, every item on the wall, every echo of footfalls. His expression didn’t shift much, but the way he leaned forward slightly when a door creaked open, the way his hands stilled for just a second when the wind whispered down the hall- those were tells. He wasn’t just scared. He was *curious.*

He didn’t know who the others were. Didn’t know what this place was. But the thread had brought him here, and something in him refused to turn back until he knew why. And as much as he hated the feeling of being pulled, hated not knowing where he was or who these people were- there was a small part of him, deep and shameful, that was glad to be here. Glad something had finally wanted him, even if it was something strange and unseen. So he followed.

He didn’t know what he was doing.
But he followed anyway.

---

Eli froze halfway into the library.

His mouth parted slightly, though he didn’t notice. His breath caught- out of pure shock, something dangerously close to awe.

He hadn’t seen anything this beautiful since childhood.
And even then, nothing had ever felt like this.
Like it was meant to be discovered. Meant to be read.

The white-haired woman walked forward like she belonged there, fingertips brushing along spines without pause. Her expression didn’t change, but her body language did. Subtly. Like a musician touching their favorite instrument. It was the only real emotion he’d seen in her. Eli drifted toward the shelves, staying to the edge of the room where the shadows softened everything. His fingers itched to touch the books, but he didn’t. Not yet. His hand slipped into his hoodie pocket, thumb pressing against the cracked compact mirror he always carried, grounding himself in the cool familiarity of it.

He didn’t speak.

But for the first time since the thread had wrapped around his wrist, Eli wasn’t moving out of fear.

He was still afraid-of course he was. But underneath that, buried beneath years of silence and caution, something new stirred in his chest.

Something like wanting.
Something like hope.

outfit:

location:

Library

tags:

e v i

 

[Shadow Alpha]

Harley Armstrong

The Rancher

I

f there was ever a word to describe this new level of irritation and confusion that was flowing through Harley, she desperately needed it in this moment. Being dragged into a relatively well-kept building with a group of people that she couldn't see herself interacting with in any other context. Golden dulled eyes glanced down at the flimsy looking thread that was responsible for being there in the first place. Her hopes that it was somehow a sign from her brother Harvey were instantly dashed. "What was I even expectin' to happen, I should've known better than to start wishin' for the impossible", Harley spoke out loud to herself as she watched the thread waver for a moment.

Having some small girl seemingly take up the mantle as captain was not to be expected either because what made her feel like she should be the one to lead this newly-formed, ragtag group. The entire thing was definitely becoming a drag but Harley complied and went along with her group. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't at least somewhat curious to see the state of this greenhouse, plants and animals were her main interests.

A variety of plants were spread out around them without any real theme, safe to assume that the species were a personal preference and not one with any logical cause. Even from a distance, Harley was able to tell that the flora had been thoroughly loved and cherished. The rather loud redhead of their little group was radiating frustration at the clear lack of cellular service. From the first impression, he resembled one of her prized roosters with the way he dressed to exude his wealth. Something she was never fond of even with more than enough money at her disposal. On the other hand, there was a rather meek looking individual with the presence of an energetic ram. "Can't say it's looking any better on my end for any signal or type of wi-fi. Seems like whatever fucked energy this house has is hell-bent on keeping us secluded. I'm Harley by the way, may as well become familiar with everyone's name since this might be the only company we have for awhile."

Harvey's attention turned to the glass surrounding them as fashion-forward person of the group brought it to their attention. Glass could be broken so there may be hope for them after all. She took in a deep breath and focused on the feeling of a sickly darkness spreading from her core into her right fist. It silently swirled and encased it in a flimsy appearing bandage wrap even though it was a lot more durable than it appeared. The fist cocked back before she released it with a ferocity most would not have expected from her, just for the recoil to cause her entire body to feel like a wrongly hit funny bone. "Shit! What is this stuff even made of?", Harvey shook her arm as if that would help release the reverberating tension from her body.

outfit:

location:

Greenhouse

tags:

leviohsa KittyTangerine