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Fantasy The Case of Lockheed Orphanage for the Supernaturally Gifted

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  • how she's feeling...



    Frightened

















Gwyneira



The Telepath













Receiving the handkerchief was almost a saving grace; while she happily accepted the bit of cloth, it wouldn't do much for the blood that caked her face for it had already dried. The only other option being spitting on it and that was something Gwyneira was not about to do. Cloaking her fingers in the hanky, Gwyn attempted to rid herself of the blood there, with very minimal luck. Hopefully they went back soon, she was in need of a bath after being in this place.

She listened to the exchange between the raven and Colette, her body stiff with fright at the sudden prospect of things going terribly wrong for them both. The more they asked, the more it hungered; They both were lost to the greed of knowledge and this beastly crow revelled in it.
Becoming bug-eyed at the sudden elongated neck, Gwyn took a quick step forward as if she was about to rip the raven from Colette but she stopped at a singular thought;
Sacrifice.
If either of them needed to leave this place, it wasn't Gwyn. Colette needed to survive; She needed to warn the others and figure out what happened to Abigail.
What was she? She wouldn't be able to give answers about Abigail to the others and she was the one lacking friends.
Would I...Be missed?
The thought crossed her mind, hidden from Colette.
Several seconds later, she made her choice. With a spurt of confidence, she held the hanky up; a parallel to surrender, and opened her mouth to spur out those three words.

But the chance didn't come. Her frantic attempt to save Cole from being devoured would have been for naught as Colette decided to offer up her own sacrifice, a sacrifice of memory. The security that she felt regressed from her being and, with a whine, she felt a new emotion; An emotion that she knew all too well. It was sickening, heart-wrenching really. The way the sweat clung to her skin and the hot flushes sent her mind down a frantic, frenzied spiral. Every word Colette spoke pierced into a memory of her own, the comparison very similar, the environments different. They both had a lot more in common than either thought, they both went through the same horrific experience and here Colette was reliving it to a stupid raven that demanded to be sated by secrets.
How cruel
She punctured in with her voice; eviscerating those awful memories that pounded at the door to her own that had been locked away tightly; chipping at that non-existent wood in a feeble attempt to collapse the walls and release the pain and torture she had undergone. No, no she would not fall victim to that.

Gwyn felt completely and utterly heartbroken for the beautiful pink ballerina before her. Just one look towards her could register to anyone how broken and fragile she truly was. There was always something about Colette that she couldn't put her finger on, something that festered and brewed under the surface and who would have ever thought that it could've been this horrific of a secret, a secret that she too kept. She was hit by wave after wave of raw emotions: embarrassment, worthlessness, loneliness.

How she wished she could reach through to those images that attacked her mind, reach through and kill Colette's father with her own two bare hands...She'd do it. She'd be damned if she didn't and that uncontrollable urge stayed there, provoking her with an ugly desire. How dare Colette feel ashamed, how dare she feel anything other than brave and fierce.
Proud, amore. Proud.
She tried to comfort her, her free hand reaching towards the body of Colette that suddenly looked so small, so dainty and fragile that even a touch would produce a crack.
Her digits trembled as they came closer to the pink-haired girls' skin and, with a sob that erupted out of nowhere, her hand connected to Colette's wrist and she pulled the girl into a hug; clinging onto her for dear life as her tears trickled past her lids and flowed freely, uninterrupted but by the gut-wrenching sobs of Gwyn.

That cracked door trickled out her horrific memories that she had attempted to repress, the sudden contact she made sending shockwaves into her brain that screamed for her to let go-- But she didn't. She held Colette and sobbed for her, sobbed with everything she had while sending the meanest glare she could muster towards the stupid raven.
"I Hope you're h-happy with y-yourself!"
Gwyn stuttered towards the raven full of spite, the anger in her voice evident upon her face. How bloody cruel.
If anything were to come out of this, it would be that both of them would connect on a more emotional level with their similarities.

She'd have rather offered her life than see Colette go through this. If only she had opened her mouth sooner, then maybe...Just maybe...Colette would have been saved from this hardship.













































♡coded by uxie♡
 






Colette.




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Backroom Labyrinth










Cole almost jerked when she heard Gwyn's voice in her mind, Merde, she had forgotten the girl could do that, shock was quickly overwritten by disbelief. Pride? In being broken?

Cole couldn't even imagine feeling that way. By now she was slouching over herself, a rare sight from Cole, someone who stood tall and noble but... Her thoughts felt sticky with memories, she couldn't get back behind the wall of repression.

They coated her mind like the sludge that covered the walls around them, and she couldn't... Do anything. Worthless. Bit her father's voice in her head and she almost cringed. Thoughts swirling for but a moment in reality.

Cole flinched slightly at the touch, raw, sore on her skin for a moment before she remembered who it was. Her skin was too soft anyways... Only then did she process the sound, Crying, And the feeling of the girl against her skin.

Cole almost gave in. Cried, Sobbed, Screamed, and yelled about how it wasn't fair. Nothing was ever fair. But... Even with her quivering mind and soul, laid raw with something she had never wanted to admit, to say aloud. In hopes that she would be normal. Deep down she knew that wouldn't happen.

She almost gave in. The warmth of another, soft, bright, and mortified at what happened. She... Didn't abhor Colette. She didn't loathe her. Think her broken or... Dirty. Gwyn was sorry and furious. Cole's emotions sparked in response, Bewilderment, Anxiety, and most of all a bone-deep feeling of adoration... Cole had a problem with becoming attached at inappropriate times.

Cole hesitated, before wrapping the girl closer to her, gently, burying her nose lightly into the wildly shorter girl's hair with a quiet cry. The surprisingly sharp words at Bête made goosebumps fly across her skin, and she tugged the girl slightly tighter, a protective feeling rising inside her, the bird wouldn't like that.

The raven turns towards Gwyn and stares coldly. "Better a crying child than a dead one. Shame the other one before you failed to heed my advice."

Abigail.
Cole's soul trembled. She- She couldn't not not not. No.

We have to leave. Please please please, stay calm for a bit- You- You can do whatever you'd like when we're out of here ill answer any questions- ill-

She was panicking. Cole slowed down the rapid breathing that had started, god, her head pulsed, and her neck was sore, but... This bird was the least of their troubles if there had any truth to his words. We can do this. We can- We have to leave, ma chérie. Please. I- I will be alright. She had called Gwyn by her nickname. Fuck.

Cole pursed her lips before laying the affection, and little hope she had left onto the girl, in hopes it would help. She hoped it would, with all her heart. It was painful to see her cry...

Her words of panic likely wouldn't do anything good for their situation. Cole took a breath, mind spiraling, she...

It's painful, Gwyn, it hurts to live with it. I keep going. Not because I want to. Trust me, all of me wants to stop. The ugly truth is that I'm scared that you will be the first person to see all of me now, and you will leave because of it. As if recoiling like you were burned. Your face will twist in horror and you will regret it. You'd wish you had never asked to see me.

You'll realize I'm a liar and a fake. I masquerade as something I'm not. Something calm. Something gentle. Something... Palatable. I'm scared to see who I really am Gwyn, and how it will disgust you, or exhaust you...

I'm not sure which is worst, but... Either way, ill end up not worth your time. You don't have to feel for me or care at all. I'll survive.


Cole stood in silence, a soft bitterness replacing what was left of her shame, the affections for the girl wrapped around her clear, tinged with melancholy.

"I- We are ready to leave." She choked out to the bird, her voice a trembling shamble, but held that strong tone she tried to keep. She'd continue on.

They'd get out. If that was the last goddamn thing she'd do, it would be getting out.

The raven chuckles in response, "It is not so simple. Open the door and make haste. We shall see where this leads. Your mistress’ influence is weak here but not entirely gone."

Mistress.
Whoever she was Cole was going to be giving her a lot of shit after this, Screw her.

Cole huffed and let go of Gwyn's embrace, opting to hold the girl's hand instead, she... Didn't want to overwhelm the girl but It wouldn't be good to let a crying girl walk around alone this was safer, and she was small compared to Cole too. Once she got the girl comfortable Cole took a long stride to the door, her eyes turned to the raven.

"Well, let's get going then..." Pushing it open lightly. Nervousness filled her lungs. They could do this. We can do hard things.

Cole was hit immediately by a musty, ancient smell as if she was breathing air that remained still for centuries. Concrete walls formed a long hallway that extended into darkness. The raven grumbles. "The Umbris… a blessing and a curse. Step quietly. While the darkness permits you to remain unseen, it won’t protect against being unheard, and the Things that listen love the shadows that cling to them."

The hallway extended for quite a ways. After several minutes of walking down this singular hallway in pitch…darkness. Cole couldn't even see Gwyn's face, despite her being right near to her. Fuck. It was terrifying.

Raven ruffles its feathers as you walk and says to Gwyn and Cole in a whisper. "One more thing… careful when you use your telepathy. I can sense the connection your mind establishes with the minds around it. Do not reach into the minds of Things you find here. The consequences are… unsavory."

Cole could imagine the glimmer in its eye when it added, "And pray we do not discover anything with a keen nose like mine. Things that hunger for thoughts are quite nasty."

Her hand tightened around Gwyn's, and she shot a short pulse of emotion, worry, and confidence up to the girl. It'll be okay.





♡coded by uxie♡
 
Jasper Cummings
Tags: Doris, Paperface Paperface - Makoto, Kovacs Kovacs - Olivia, SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles
Location: Kitchen
Untitled (1).pngToday was not their finest work, but could you condemn a fisher for a faulty net? There was very little they could have done differently within the time they were given. He hoped Doris knew the same.

Jasper found himself studying Olivia, searching for any abrasions. His eyes fell to her wrist, the skin was unnaturally flushed and started to gain a slight bulbous form. Hardened hands carefully brushed the girl's swollenness, and the caring gentleness of Makoto did not surprise Jasper. Olivia always seemed to hold a place within the male's heart, seeming to soften his lips whenever she was around. When Makoto draped his scarf over her, Jasper only hoped that Olivia knew that she was protected by a good man.

His eyes jerked up at being addressed, and he tugged his bag forward, reaching into the worn leather to double check for bandages. His hand anxiously fumbled over the material before pulling out the coarse fabric. Realizing that Makoto may have been waiting a very delayed response, Jasper answered with a simplistic "Okay," accepting the responsibility of caring for Olivia.

He inwardly groaned as Adelaide's voice grated against his skull. The woman was functional and that was the extent of his optimism. She was very action-oriented, and for that Jasper found himself commending her, however brash and idiotic some of her decisions were. She could be less noisy when she walks, Jasper thought irritably, she chatters like an incessant monkey. Alas, everyone always has a criticism for everything that does anything, and there wasn't very much you could do about Adelaide. Although, that was very little cause to stop him from silently mocking her as he kept up a pleasant exterior.

Jasper extended his sympathy towards Doris as she tried to interact with Adelaide. The relationship between the two women was certainly a difficult one, on account of the friendship being borderline non-existent. Seeing the interaction, or rather the lack thereof, saddened him. He hated to see Doris defeated in such a way. Truly, she was the most undeserving of all of them to receive Adelaide's temper.

When Doris turned to address Jasper and Olivia, he found himself appreciating the faith his co-workers put in him. A mutual trust in each other, and one he didn't take lightly. Upon Doris' leave, Jasper eyed Olivia, as if trying to find a solution to a particularly hard equation. "Do you actually want milk?" He finally asked.
 
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mood



Calming down



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Kitchen



outfit






mentions



Makoto, Doris, & Jasper



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Jasper's question of her well-being had the small girl turning her gaze towards him, lips parting to answer him. However, before she could so much as utter a word, Adelaide was sweeping through the kitchen like a gust of wind, scolding all the adults present. Olivia instinctively ducked her head, wondering if she would be scolded as well. She generally tried to keep quiet and not make a fuss but here she was, bursting into the kitchen and slamming doors open. Her parents never liked it when she made too much noise; she braced herself for any yelling directed her way. However, the woman simply continued on her way and Olivia let out a small breath of air, tension fading from her shoulders as she relaxed from her tense state.

Olivia startled slightly when something warm was suddenly draped around her shoulders, her eyes jerking back towards Makoto as one of her hands released his coat, grasping the fabric of his scarf with small fingers. She had rarely ever seen him without his scarf, the item of clothing seemingly as important to him as her pocket mirror was to her. She gazed up at him with wide eyes, silently promising to protect his scarf for him while he was off doing whatever he needed to do.

Her other hand finally released his coat, Olivia tucking the injured limb against her chest as Makoto stood from his crouched position. As much as she wanted him to stay, she knew he needed to go check whatever had happened at the bathroom. In her fearful flight, she was unsure what had happened to Quinn or Frida. She hoped they were okay.

She gave a gentle nod at Doris's words as the woman followed Makoto out of the kitchen. Hopefully the both of them would be able to figure out what had happened and she dearly hoped that Quinn and Frida weren't hurt like she was. Now that the fear was fading, she felt terrible that she had just abandoned them like that. She would have to apologize later, maybe she could ask one of the caretakers if she could use the kitchen to bake them an apology treat.

"Do you actually want milk?"

Jasper's question broke her from her inner thoughts and she swung her gaze upwards at him. She pondered his question though ultimately shook her head. She still felt a chill from what had transpired earlier and she didn't fancy a cold drink right now. "No thank you, Mr. Jasper." She said softly as she shuffled over to the tall man. Now that the adrenaline was fading, the pain in her wrist was making itself fully known and she tried to hold back a wince as she dutifully extended her arm outwards for Jasper to examine.









nine lives

 
“Ah, yes,” Hank muttered in response to Oz. “Let’s go.”

He made his way in the direction of the kitchen as Makoto had instructed, still mildly bewildered at the events that had transpired. From what he could gather, there was an emergency being investigated that involved some of the girls. It certainly put him on edge, but he preferred to not think too hard about it. Whatever was going on would probably blow over soon anyway. “So I hope. Say, has Abigail shown up yet? Surely her absence has nothing to do with this.”

Hank stopped in front of his room. “Please go on without me. I’ll catch up soon, I just need to fetch some of my belongings,” he told the other two boys before slipping through the door. That was only half true, of course. The first thing he did was plop down onto his bed. “What a strange morning,” he muttered, stripping off one of his gloves, savoring the brief nip of cold air. As he rested, he couldn’t help but think of some of the things that were said back in the hall. “So many things here shouldn’t be possible,” Hank mused, letting his other glove slide off on its own as if to prove the point. “How do I know it’s real? It feels real. I can feel the softness of the sheets…smell the mildew in the air…see the little specks of dust drifting about…it feels real, but even a madman thinks he knows reality.” He stopped for a moment as that last thought and its implications hung in the air.

“My oddity started showing up in 20’,” he recalled finally. “I reckon that’s when I would have gone mad. After she passed away.” He paused, anticipating the pang of emotion that would come when he thought about his sister. But as he lay there, watching little specks of dust drift in the sunlight, he knew that the pang wouldn’t come; it rarely did those days. He just felt the same. No, that wasn’t quite true—he felt frustrated. It was only because of his own lack of feeling, though. The agitation grew with every passing moment, and he began to mock himself. “I thanked the painting earlier, but what for? It makes no difference where I am. I live only to see the next day, and so it will be until the day I die!” He sprung to his feet, a manic glint showing in his eyes. “It’s a funny thing, really! It would not be so difficult, if I so wished, to slit my own throat as early as tonight! But I don’t… Why? Because I simply don’t want to die!”

Hank’s sudden burst of energy left him as quickly as it came, and in moments he was acting as if it hadn’t even happened. “It’s all fancy, of course… As for the question of whether or not any of this is real, I suppose it doesn’t really matter…Even if this truly has been one big fit of insanity, it changes nothing.” This thought was not satisfying; indeed, Hank found it quite frightening. However, he did admit that there was some comfort in acceptance. He got up and put his gloves back on; the cold no longer felt so refreshing. Finally, he took the items he had come for and, stowing them in his pocket, turned to leave.

Location: Bedroom

Sunsmiter Sunsmiter SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles
 
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"Well, I suppose that is how it goes, then," Arthur said. "These things take time, Professor, I wouldn't lose heart."

The Professor's bristles shifted with the exhale that escaped his lips. He pondered upon Arthur's words for a moment as they walked back up the trail towards the orphanage.

"How's Edgar?" he asked.

"Oh," the Professor scoffed, "Never seems to get it through his head he ought to keep watch, that one."

"Did something happen?"

"Yes," the Professor's brow knit together and his wrinkles dug deeper into his sour expression, "We lost one last night. Edgar informed me prior to your arrival."

"That's... I'm sorry to hear that," Arthur swallowed hard. He placed his hands into his pocket, tensing his jaw in a stony stare that seemed to look past the Professor.

"I had hoped since the disappearance of young Georgie I would not have to experience such a thing again," the orphanage was in view now. "Death never fails to remind us he exists when given the opportunity doesn't he," the Professor said, a tender whistle to his voice.

"I suppose not," Arthur pulled out a pack of cigarettes and, with trembling fingers, removed one from the box. He took care not to burn himself as he lit it and told himself it was only the cold that was causing him to shiver like so.

The Professor stopped just as the trucks were in sight, still out of earshot of anyone. Arthur did the same. "You cleared the forest already?"

"We did."

"No sign of the Church?"

"No."

"The Graveyard?"

"No. Gone since the night Georgie ran."

"The Owner has a bad habit of obscuring things," the Professor grumbled.

"I'll have my men patrol more frequently. We caught another one near the perimeter last week," Arthur took a long drag of his cigarette.

"So I've heard. Did you dispose of it?" the Professor turned towards Arthur with a grave look. "I will not have those Things hunting the children."

"You've nothing to worry about," Arthur lamented reaching the end of his cigarette and tossed it into the snow.

They stood beside each other for a while, listening to the birds sing and the wind howl along to their song.

"Why haven't you told any of the Caretakers? Mateo. Doris. Uriel. Edgar," he asked.

"They do not need to know anything."

"But they deserve the truth."

"We were given orders, Arthur," the Professor sighed, "Ethics have nothing to do with it."

Another long silence passed between them before Arthur started off towards the trucks by the storage. The Professor followed after. Adelaide was still among the men bringing the boxes in. Arthur barked angrily at some of his for letting a lady do physical labor but the Professor was content with simply watching her. Uriel was a good Caretaker. She assisted him with his studies of the children's oddities but Adelaide was his favorite. She was an honest worker with a sound mind and a strong heart. Reliable. Someone worth counting on. When screams and panic resounded from within the orphanage, the Professor excused himself and followed after Adelaide.

Upon setting his sights towards the scene that unfolded before him at the kitchen, the Professor pursed his lips. Amidst Adelaide's tirade, the Professor watched the others. It seemed the Caretakers had congregated in the kitchen that morning to discuss something. Edgar was among them and the guilty look on his face told him everything he needed to know about the subject that was being discussed. Abigail's disappearance was bound to be talked about eventually. What was more curious, however, was the apparent absence of Colette and Gwyneira. Well... concerning, at least. The Owner also left footprints in the area. A sure sign that the order had been disturbed. The Professor was a patient man but not more patient than the Owner wanted him to be.

"Alright," the Professor spoke up, addressing the mob in front of the bathroom. "Let's get the children to class. I assure you all, there is nothing to worry about. Last night, Abigail fell ill with a serious fever, so I called Arthur to come take her to a hospital where she can receive better treatment. Wherever Colette and Gwyneira ran off to, I'm sure it is nothing more than a prank. The Caretakers will go look for them and given them a strong talking to before sending them off to join you in morning classes."

He looked towards Doris. "You wouldn't mind taking over lessons for today, yes? Mateo can search for Colette and Gwyneira while the rest of you clean up after the children's breakfast. We've a long day ahead," the Professor stated with some finality, as if his word were the law. It was his job after all to oversee the Caretakers and Orphans that were entrusted to him. He failed twice already and Lord help him if he failed again.

"Oh, and Makoto," the Professor looked at him, "Would you come with me to my office? I wanted to discuss some things with you regarding Abigail's hospitalization." He started down the hall and towards the library without hesitation.

Paperface Paperface AmberV AmberV mizton mizton housegoat13 housegoat13 Kovacs Kovacs
 
Ozymandias
Location: Towards class
Interactions: The Cat Also Known as Charles/Stinky/Rat/Mau/Fleur
Mentions: Hank

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"I don't know about Abi...I sure do hope she's alright...Hm? Oh, sure. See you!" Oz gave a short wave at Hank before heading off. The incident about the bathroom and vanishing girls didn't sit right with him, but what could he exactly do....?
Well, about that....
His oddity could sculpt time like clay, moving it back and forth as he pleased. Including objects, so long as they had been in light.
Would it work upon an evidence scene?
Yet even then(assuming he even could revert the scene briefly to when the incident transpired) what could he do? Politely demand the creature to leave? Scream really loudly for a caretaker?
Well...they might not even have been in light....
Oz was still fussing over this conundrum when he arrived next to his room. Looking down, the orphan absently opened the door and stepped in, depositing Aaru for a moment. It wouldn't be long and he had...something to pick up. "Dear gods. You would not believe what the hell happened today."
One might have thought he was just speaking to himself, but his question was soon answered by a small 'meow' from under the bed.
"...Mau? Did you hide under the bed again?"
Another soft meow. The Caretakers would give him hell if they found out he smuggled a goddamn cat into the orphanage(in his defense he found it outside wet and hungry and couldn't - wouldn't - leave it there). And besides, how could you refuse those adorable eyes?
"C'mon, it's been half a week! Or a week. Or maybe more? Anyways, I brought breakfast!"
At the mention of food a small white kitten with black markings gingerly shuffled from underneath Oz's unmade bed, its small tail swishing. Mau(very aptly named for a cat that makes 'mau' sounds, I know) sniffed the eggs Oz had somehow brought(listen time turning can be very useful at times when you wanna smuggle eggs), gave it a cat seal of approval, grabbed it, and decided to perch on the desk to eat.
"...you know I have to clean that up you know."
The cat, being a cat, does not care whether or not Oz has to clean up after it. Oz internally sighed, gave the cat a pat on the head, and left. He could always say he lost track of time for the delay. He might not know how long he could keep this a secret, but does it matter? No. If he had the chance, he would smuggle that poor kitten into the orphanage even if he had to live through twelve different timelines.

(we now have a cat)
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  • how she's feeling...



    Frightened

















Gwyneira



The Telepath













Gwyneira was currently stuck in her own personal hell. She didn’t think Colette realised that everything she was currently thinking, remembering, it was piercing into Gwyn’s own mind; she was seeing these repressed memories, she was watching them as they played out and she felt utterly helpless and completely, unfathomably, tortured. The memories attacked her own chain-held door, the one that she fought so viciously to conceal and bury so she wouldn’t have to go through what she had before. It took a lot of her power to bury those thoughts so they would never resurface and here they were…Chipping away at her soul as if they begged to be free so they could unleash their torrent of abuse upon Gwyneira.
She remembered a lady, one that looked a lot like her mother. Blonde curls that bounced as she walked, a slender frame from the provisions she had to abide by. Her fingers often smelt like alcohol; a tell-tale sign of someone who spent long hours dressing wounds and administering alcohol to the flesh to work as an antiseptic agent.

Gwyn remembered those same curls covered in blood and the pretty little neck twisted into an ungodly position.

She shivered with thought, blocking them from touching Colette’s own mind. The older girl was already fighting her own demons, she shouldn’t add onto them. Gwyneira could handle this much, she was sure of it.

Her own hand came to her throat, touching the skin there as if remembering a sickly story that went with the action. Her neck had turned purple and blue that day, so did the rest of her body that felt the heavy weight of a man atop of it. A shiver coaxed itself down her spine and, with a stomp of the foot, she screamed at herself; No!

No this wouldn’t happen, not here, not in the presence of another. She couldn’t risk collapsing into a blubbering mess, she wanted solitude for that— She needed her own space. Forcing those walls to fill in, pouring liquid gold to seal the cracks and meld them together. Her mind was incredible when she truly thought about it; what she could do, or possibly could do in the future, could help a lot of people. Or so she hoped.

The panicked voice of Cole ignited her chest with a burning sensation that seared up to her throat and stuck there with an agonising lump. Swallowing down harshly, attempting to rid herself of this uneasy feeling, Gwyn stepped backwards just a small space and tilted her head back to look up at Colette.

Pressing the handkerchief against Colette’s hair, Gwyn curled her slender fingers and pushed down at the back of Cole’s head until they were both forehead to forehead. Paying no attention to the raven at the moment, Gwyn sighed out with a tremble to her lips and allowed her eyes to close momentarily; savouring the moment of warmth from her friend.

At the tender name of ma chérie, her eyes opened and blue peered into brown; capturing the sight and locking it away in her memory. She was right, Cole spoke truths; They had to leave and it needed to be now.

With a short nod, her vacant hand reached towards Cole’s cheek and her quaking fingers touched skin, slowly moving up until she gently tapped Cole’s temple: A gentle reminded to keep to the mind.

Why would I leave you? You have wronged me not. We share the same events, the same past and here we are…Fighting strong and trying to overcome things!
It ached her very being that Colette would ever consider she would recoil in disgust. No, never.

What you are? It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful and don’t ever think differently…We all shield ourselves from pain and hurt and your way? There’s nothing wrong with that. Let’s get out of this together…
Her hands fell from Colette and she took a step back once more, only returning their physical connection by hand.

“Let’s find your chérie and get out of here.”
She whispered this time, squeezing Colette’s hand.
The smell that attacked her senses was none too better than the one from the previous room. It was musty, akin to damp and an old decrepit man smell. The stench caused a sniffle, her nose already sensitive from the crying she had just endured. That handkerchief was surely going to come into play now.

The hallway continued onwards, the end never in sight as the walls seemed to close in on them with the surrounding darkness looming and concealing their sight. If she weren’t too afraid of what may touch her, she would have felt for the side of the wall but Gwyneira thought better and clenched her fist at her side.

The headache was worsening the further they walked, her mind filled with an insistent buzzing sound that rattled her brain like a thousand wasp trapped inside a bell. It echoed consistently, the miserable sound only getting louder the more she and Colette walked down.

The raven gave her some problematic advice and, in return, Gwyn asked;

“Does this make my mind more susceptible to…Whatever is here? I can’t tune out thoughts…I…Haven’t learned that yet”
She struggled with this, often listening in on things she shouldn’t hear and unable to tune out who’s voice came into her mind. Her peers have never been able to read her own thoughts but what was stopping some cultist creature from piercing the veil and taking a stab at it?

She waited for an answer, her breath held at the slightest of noise.

It does. Humans are not meant to exist in the Other. Your senses are not meant to perceive Things. The raven croaked, his image lost to Gwyneira in the dark. His feathers blended in too much and, even if she were able to see him in dim light, the perpetual darkness took that sight from her. Much like how you may go blind from staring at the sun, you may go mad from intaking all that the Other is. Do not look too long at anything. Do not listen to noises with patterns. They are lures. It is in our nature to want all other things to join us here in the Other. The message was loud and clear and now Gwyneira was left with a sickening thought of; What was going to invade her mind?

It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, it’ll definitely be okay.
She thought to herself, thankful to the squeeze from Colette. Communication was going to be key for this area but, the foreboding thought of something listening in and taking advantage of that terrified her. What if she put Colette at risk? It was something she wouldn’t be able to live with.













































♡coded by uxie♡
 
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Jasper Cummings
Tags: Olivia - SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles
Location: Kitchen

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Jasper was internally thankful that Olivia had refused the offer. The decline saved him the bother of getting a glass for her and watching as she hopelessly strained her injury even more.

His eyes followed the child as she shuffled to him, quickly looking over her wrist, and didn't bother to take her hand. “Yep, that’s a sprain,” he affirmed, before moving outward and away from the sink and Olivia. A few steps later and he turned to sit on the cold, hard floor. “Here, come sit with me,” he suggested, patting the ground in front of him.

While he waited for Olivia, he examined the bandages still in his left hand and glanced at the girl’s abrasion. Right, he silently noted the location of the injury, before starting to wrap his own right palm, and soon progressed to the corresponding wrist. He silently thanked god that he was left-handed, this would be a hell of an inconvenience if he wasn’t.
 
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Mateo Solinas
The Professor's words were soft and absolute. There was rarely space to question him, even if Mateo had wanted to. When the Professor entered a conversation, people turned towards him without thinking. He drew the attention of the children and caretakers alike. After all, he was the Owner's emissary. Her presence was indirect and quiet, but he gave voice to her wishes on daily matters.

However, he couldn't help but think it strange that the Professor claimed Abigail had become ill. Mateo had been in and out of the orphanage throughout the night and not once did he see any sign of Arthur prior to the morning shipment, much less an ill child being whisked away by him in the dead of night. The implication of the lie sat cold and heavy in his gut. The Professor would only see fit to lie if he had reason to believe that something truly terrible had befallen Abigail. Something that he couldn't explain to the children. There were many things they couldn't explain to the children, so Mateo couldn't even hazard a guess as to what had happened, but none of those options were good ones.

Which made finding the other two, who the Professor had offered no lie for, all the more important. There was still a chance that they were off playing tricks or skipping out on lessons. If there was no need to lie yet, they might still be safe. It appeared time was of the essence.

Mateo glanced down towards Quinn and Frida, hesitating for only a moment before reaching down to give Quinn a short squeeze on the shoulder, "Alright chap, take Frida off to lessons now. I'll find Gwyn and Cole and send them along after you in no time." He pauses, rubbing his chin for a moment, "Oh, and tell Ozymandias to join me here after lessons. I'll need a hand repairing the door and it seems a bit more pressing than our previous arrangement."

He gave the Professor a small nod and Adelaide a small pat on the shoulder before sidling out of the bathroom and down the hall towards his room. The book took up the space where his lantern was usually secured and he had no intention of leaving either item out where any of the children might stumble across them. His quarters at least had a lock on the door.

Technically, it was a bedroom. There was even still a bed. He had never slept in it, though there were days where he sometimes still tried. Mostly, it remained unused, neatly made and shoved into the corner. Occasionally he would read in bed, but he often preferred the warmth of the library for such moments of relaxation. Instead, his room had taken on the function of a workroom. Tools neatly hung along one of the walls and a workbench, made from wood he'd scrounged from an old door and legs hewn from windfall trees, occupied the center of the room. Beneath the workbench was a trunk and he opened it up and dropped the book inside. It didn't have a lock, but he reckoned it didn't need one. It was filled with bits of tools and hardware that needed repair, loose hammer heads, broken brass door knobs, old bits of lead pipe, and scraps of copper. Hardly where one keeps books.

He sighed with relief as he returned the lantern to its bag. Nice and safe once more, where no roving fingers could reach.

Now, it was time to go find some children. He picked up a long overcoat from a hook beside his door and shrugged it on as he headed towards the foyer. The snow outside was a good place to start, as ruling out the woods left him with only the orphanage itself.




Location: Bathroom
Tags: Coyote Coyote CeaserXIX CeaserXIX Ghostiiys Ghostiiys mizton mizton
Mention: Frida, Quinn, Adelaide, Gwyn, Cole, the Professor, Ozy

 






Colette.




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  • home (filler tab)



































Backroom Labyrinth










As her feet touched the ground, feeling the dust below her disturbed as her gentle feet tapped on the floor, scratching under her, the single time she misstepped.

Gwyn's voice cut in, almost silent, “This static that I hear…It’s getting worse and it’s hard to think straight. Is this the Mistress?” Gwyneira asks the raven, pondering a moment before adding on, ”Is she blocking out my oddity?”

The raven remains quiet for a moment. Then two. Then for a whole minute before answering in a low whisper. “It is not your Mistress. Something lies ahead. Colette, I will tap you with my beak when I want you to stop or go, understood? We shall remain in complete silence now. We approach the end of the hallway.”

Cole squinted, trying to see the bird to no avail, murmuring, "Mhm..." Cole's brain was clear of all thoughts but getting out, danger always seemed to be the best way to calm her down.

Cole noticed her eyes had adjusted. Only enough to see a vaguely moving blob of Gwyn, pursing her lips, Cole gently locked arms with her, it was safer for them, and she could see Gwyn a bit better. Only a smidge, but it was worth it for Cole.

As their feet tapped lightly on the floor, they soon were in complete darkness, Cole hoped they found the end of the hall soon, though that could be hours from then. Though... Cole felt that although she couldn't see one bit, something was coming, a room? Or an être maléfique?

Tap.


Cole froze, stiffening like she was a porcelain doll. She could hold this pose for a long time, not moving an inch... She wasn't so sure about Gwyn. The rustling of feathers caught Cole's ear and... La Bête had flown away, god damn him.

But... Surely there was a reason for this. She stayed put. It was death to leave.

Silence tore her ears, seconds felt like eternities, never knowing when to move. Time was crashing down on her like a wave. Then she heard it, like a can clattering to the floor, quiet, almost silent, her ears had gotten sensitive enought among the quiet to notice. A sound pounded in her throat but she dare not make it.

Feet shuffled before her, a being she couldn't see. It almost sounded... Aggravated. Frantic. Looking.

Thankfully, seeming to go away. Though Cole wouldn't risk moving, that was. Then the raven came back and Cole felt relief well up inside her. Though it was quickly smashed.

"There is a hall to your left. Hurry… this one moves quickly." The bird whispered and cole felt a jolt of adrenaline.

Cole took a breath feet moving quickly, silently. She had to go but she wouldn't risk getting heard. Her long fingers stretched out before her, as she took a sharp left into the hall.

The room smelled musty, the kind of smell that reminded Colette of the storage room in the old theater, a twinge in her nose suggested burnt as a scent, like old wiring that had caused a small fire twenty-some years in the past and no one had bothered to clean up the smell.

The dark had deprived her of her sight so... Cole paid attention to her other senses as best she could. The floor had transitioned from cold stone to something thin and padded, her quick steps seemingly tearing up whatever thing material was beneath her. She was glad for the minor muffling it provided.

Cole jerked her hand back. The first piece of furniture in the room had come, pulling Gwyn, who she had just realized she had been practically dragging, closer to her back. Cole quickly touched the object cold and hard, it was an odd shape, humanoid, like a mannequin, she'd guess before quickly passing by.

Her hip briefly touched something a few moments later but she paid it no mind, she passed by a low armchair fingers running through what felt like both a fine velvet and a child sticky hand, the things she touched piled on and on.

She wouldn't stop until she was told to.

| être maléfique = evil being |





♡coded by uxie♡
 
CODE BY SEROBLISS
Frida Wagner
Location: Near Classroom
Frida looked at Quinn when she heard the waver of his voice. Quinn's personality usually switched from being completely exhausted from his insomniac tendencies to just being a normal and relaxed person. So it made Frida even more concerned about what they had found, along with the fact that He, Olivia, and herself had heard obvious noises in the very same bathroom. Her face contorted into an expression of cringe, she was feeling too many things at once and it could only show as if she had drunk lemon juice.

"This is too much..." She shook her hands as if she was air-drying them, but in reality, she was trying to shake out the anxiety coursing through her body.

Adelaide, How Frida loathed her, She had a habit of acting like she was a mother to any of these kids but in actuality, she was just an over-glorified maid. And they looked way too similar, sometimes Frida couldn't help but imagine they were related, which was gross since Adelaide was so old.

Although the person who was right behind her made Frida stiff, the professor. The one true person who made her completely uncomfortable. Frida concluded that if the caretakers mentioned him as some sort of higher up that he must know of the owner, her gruesome face plastered on the walls of the estate. And for Frida, she knew not to misbehave in front of him... At least not too much.

"Ugh.." she groaned dejectedly, it was clear to her that with all the other caretakers rushing over to the scene Frida and Quinn had found something most unfortunate. Makoto went on and on about some nonsense about spirits as he usually did, she could not help but roll her eyes.

Mateo did not need to tell Frida twice to scram and let the adults handle the situation, but she was not dumb enough to think this was a simple mistake of a dropped glove.

"Whatever...This is bollocks!" she yelled before storming off, why did they need to tell Ozy anything? She couldn't think straight at all and it was incredibly frustrating to her. She gripped Quinn's wrist as she had a habit of just dragging him wherever she went like a toddler with an old toy. Frida's loud stomps resonated throughout the hall and her mind began to race. The adults mumbling, the professor who was always in class around these times, the glove, and the missing kids. Cole..Gwyn..Abigail... Her hair began to float like she had entered an anti-gravity room, not realizing she was scaring herself to the point where her powers had begun to levitate her golden locks.

"I think it would be better for you to tell Ozymandias about what Mateo said, Quinn..." Although Frida was overwhelmed, her eyes clearly still puffy and bloodshot from the crying. She knew one thing for sure.

She was scared.

Mentioned: CeaserXIX CeaserXIX Sybela Sybela AmberV AmberV SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles Kovacs Kovacs mizton mizton
 
Ozymandias
Location: Near classroom
Interactions: Frida, Quinn
Mentions: Hank, Olivia

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"Hey, has anyone seen Hank?" Oz was in a surprisingly good mood even for himself. "Sorry if I'm a bit late, lost track of time- oh wow...Frida? Your...hair's floating...." Oz trailed off here, not exactly knowing what to say as he nearly bumped into the blonde orphan.
"Hi Frida, hi Quinn! Hank should be joining pretty soon. What's going on? I was told to sorta come here, so I did, and for some reason I heard Gwyn and Cole were missing and Hank just vanished to his room afterwards. Is Olivia okay?" Oz wasn't holding Aaru this time, but that didn't stop him from fiddling with the top of his jacket.

Ghostiiys Ghostiiys dontPanic dontPanic CeaserXIX CeaserXIX
 
Ethel wanted to write down all the clues, so she suddenly rushed to her room, pulled out her journals that she had never finished, and began to copy down what she had heard(and wrote) word for word. This was unusual for Ethel, or at least until Ethel went to do something else and left her writing by the wall. She would go do something else, figuring nothing else was happening in the kitchen. She had no idea that it was supposed to be class, nor did she really care. What Ethel wanted to do was read and get lost in a book.

So, that's exactly where Ethel went, and once the caretakers found out she was skipping class, she'd be in deep water. She had no idea what time it was, which had often caused her trouble. She knew where the library was from being there so often, and that was often where she spent her time.

When Ethel got there, she had been focused on reading a book, meaning that, had there been a danger, Ethel might either theorize about it or ignore it, neither of which was very helpful. she grabbed a book that was all about fairytales, and in the back of her mind, the weird incident was over. She had no idea how wrong she'd be and these incidents would continue. She had no idea that she would have to grow up very soon.
 
1926
adelaide furse
locations
Hallway outside Bathroom > Inside bathroom
interactions
People outside/inside bathroom, particularly Mateo, Doris, and The Professor
mentions
Gwyneira, Frida, Quinn, Colette

"Ah, I see," Adelaide responded rather quickly to Mateo, "It doesn't help that the manor creaks more often in the winter, does it?

"As for Gwyneira, I'd be wise to go see her after we're done here. Worry not."
Frankly, Adelaide didn't understand the fuss. Had she not taught these children better than to cry wolf over oddities? Sinister happenings like she knew the manor was capable of were things of the night, she'd gathered over the years. A couple instances during the day with those impassable doors that appeared, but nothing much more. It was plain daylight out, even brighter what with the layer of snow outside. It seemed clear as day to Adelaide that whatever occurred had been a brought on by Gwyneira, if the nosebleed was anything to go by. If anything, perhaps it was an instance of those pesky disappearing cupboards, doors, what-have-you of this circus of a manor.

From her spot in the hall, Adelaide leaned in to take in the state of the bathroom. Past the shoulders of Frida & Quinn, she could spot the bloody glove on the floor & the little splatter it'd made; she'd have to clean that up. Heavens knew the home didn't need any sort of infection floating around so close to the holidays. It was rather rotten for Gwyn to have to endure a nosebleed as often as she did. Rather rotten for the two kids at the scene, if anything could be assumed from the bit of dust that'd gathered on Frida's dress in their investigation of the bathroom, no doubt.

As for the rest of the washroom, It looked the same as it did yesterday, which is to say longing for its weekly clean that afternoon. There was a particular spot on the mirror that made Adelaide bite her cheek. That, and she could tell dust had already gathered towards the bottom of the wash bowl. The evening couldn't come sooner. Actually, I may as well clean right now. One less thing to do later, Adelaide thought idly.

The sight made her hands twitch to do something about it, but there were bigger issues in discussion. As everyone spoke, she stood rather quietly, even stepping back so as not to overcrowd the hall. It made her impatient to be standing around, but she'd like to clean as soon as she could, so she stayed & endured the impatience as best she could, which is to say chewing at the inside of her cheek. To busy her vision, she gave everyone else a glance over. Frida, Quinn, Mateo, The Professor, and...

Doris. The voice of her came just behind the professor and herself. It seemed that Mateo's explanation hadn't satisfied her, because within the following moment, her voice came clearer above the contemplative silence, "I would much appreciate it if this, all of this, is explained clearly and concisely. Please, whoever."

In her mind, preoccupied by the state of the matters in front of her, she hadn't even heard her follow behind from the kitchen; to her credit, that girl did have a habit of sneaking up behind her. From the looks on the children's faces, it seemed that everyone who'd recently arrived had missed the kids' initial explanation of the situation. Thinking back, that must've been the murmuring she'd just about missed over her earlier rant to the professor. Murmuring she'd heard, words she did not; a reoccurring theme, she'd found, that morning.

In response to Doris, the professor spoke up. His explanation left Adelaide's jaw hanging, if only a little: Abigail had been hospitalized?

With a sigh that could be seen through her shoulders, her eyes closed mournfully at the news. Just what had she managed to sleep through last night? Surely, she would've woken up to the sounds of expulsions. Coughing, sniffling — anything. Not to forget, she'd about spent the entire morning with the man & not so much as a passing comment made about it? There was little purpose in dwelling on her shortcomings, instead her mind spun at what would become of Abigail's little... or rather tall shadow, Colette. The news would ruin her with worry.

The thought troubled Adelaide, but her face betrayed nothing. As her mind spun, she stood quietly like a slouching automaton with her hands held behind her as the professor spoke.

Adelaide hadn't seen her yet today, but she supposed that much couldn't really be helped; she'd stuck around to help the deliveries, after all. Still, she'd see her after classes & surely there'd be some announcement during them, regarding little Abigail. Adelaide decided to herself that the most she could do about this all was to be at her place in the manor's study once classes were over; perhaps she'd prepare sewing exercises to keep Colette's little mind off what couldn't be helped. She'd finish up quickly here & then carry on with her Sunday; she'd let her mind wander during laundry. Yes, that made for a solid plan.

It was Mateo's hand at her shoulder that brought her out of her thoughts. At the sudden pat, she straightened up, blinking back to a reality she hadn't even realized she'd left; Lord, she could've done with some tea that morning. By the time she'd realized what had happened, she was already watching his form take off. The professor had shifted to get a move on and Frida was already off, tugging along Quinn; Adelaide hadn't even been able to get a word in about her dress. No use calling after her now. As she looked around, it'd seem she was only left with Doris. Without anything to say, Adelaide wordlessly slunk into the now-vacated bathroom, pointedly avoiding meeting the younger maid's eyes. Her far-off gaze bothered her, so she tried not to look at it, when she could. Doris made her uneasy for whatever reason; Adelaide couldn't quite place it.

In walking in, she caught her reflection & decided against fruitless thoughts. With little audience, she said aloud quietly, "Time to clean up."
code by @Nano
 




































  • how she's feeling...



    Frightened

















Gwyneira



The Telepath














Along for the ride at this point, Gwyneira followed Colette down the long hall, mindful of her steps and especially aware of using her ability. She wanted to take no risks in regards to some otherworldly creature invading her brain and causing havoc there. Not that she was able to think correctly with how piercing the static noise had become. Unable to form a tangible thought, let alone speak with Colette, Gwyneira clung to the taller girl's arm and gritted her teeth in pain.

Too focused on the pain spiralling her out of control, Gwyneira would've walked into the room if it wasn't for Colette stopping both of them in their tacks--Absent the raven.
C'mon Gwynnie, get it together.
she chastised herself, troubled by the thought of putting them both in danger. She couldn't play with their lives like this, she couldn't endanger Colette.

The seconds went on, an eternity stabbing at her skin and casing the goosebumps to prickle. Again, she felt that familiar trickle as her headache reached those eye-twitching heights, the blood catching at the top of her lip and gathering at the cupid's bow before becoming burdened with weight and trickling between her slightly parted mouth. Her free hand swept upwards, the handkerchief covering her nose quickly to stop any droplets from falling to the ground.

Gwyn briefly remembered her father's old radio, the one that never received a signal and just sounded like a garbled, torturous, mess. That, she deduced, was her current state of mind at the moment. She wanted it to stop, wanted it all to just go away and leave her the hell alone. Why couldn't she be normal for once? Why did she have to be stuck with the stupid oddity that brought her mostly grief? If she hadn't had this oddity then her brother would have never peris--
Stop it.
The endless waiting sent her down a self-pitying path; it was something she couldn't afford to do, not here.

She was ripped from the deepest of trances by the audible sound of something clattering to the ground. Gwyn hurriedly attempted to zone in on the sound but remembered the ravens' words-- A saving throw at most. Before them; shuffling. It sounded as if something had been toddling before them--In the room their feet teased the threshold of. The sound, when focused upon, was more dragged in context; an aggressive sweep of steps that grated along the floor that they slid across.
It's going to the noise, I think.
She spoke to Colette this time, quiet in voice but audible in mind. The frantic, desperate, movements grew quieter as whatever creature it was slunk away.

The raven was back and that was their signal to move. They took a left, sharp and precise. It was a good thing Colette had ballerina training, her balance and movement were probably perfect for this type of thing. Gwyn was quite lithe herself but with this headache? She hoped she'd only stay upright; begged she wouldn't collapse to the floor. Being dragged by Cole was not fun at all; her feet almost collided with the back of Coles every time they stopped, and her body brushed against foreign objects that had no business being unseen. This total secluded darkness was not optimal, and, with an empathetic thought, she truly felt sorry for the blind if this is how they felt.

She could barely make out the blob that was Cole, let alone any furniture or ungodly beasts that were in the room. Vulnerable at most, she gave all her trust to the pink ballerina, helping her whenever she sensed something was a bit too close for comfort. The least she could do is attempt to veer them both in an unobstructed path. After all, the raven had told them to be mindful of bumping into things. Waves of emotions were colliding with her body; a sign that Colette was attempting to be helpful towards her in this situation, probably trying to calm her down but...If something would be able to find Gwyn using her oddity, wouldn't the same apply for Colette? It was better to be safe than sorry.

Mon amour,
Her voice whispered into the mind of the girl, French for some unknown reason.
Pull back your ward. We don't want something else to feel it.
She moved her arm away from Colette's and slowly intertwined their fingers, grasping onto the slender digits with dear life. Even if they were to be lost to the anxious, nauseating atmosphere, they could depend on one another.

Quietly moving in the room, there were a few instances where Gwyn felt something at her side; a looming dread that she easily passed off as just a piece of old furniture, probably with some white cloth cloaking over it to protect it from dust. She had no intention of staying here and finding out. Was Abigail even here? Could she truly be in this place? Gwyn shivered as the coldness of the room grew, biting her at the bone.
A sharp pain coursed through her leg, the fabric of her skirt making an audible tear as whatever it got caught upon scagged the cloth and, at most, wounded her leg. Probably just a bruise.
Sorry!
Apologising instantly through minds, she felt completely stupid-- Embarrassed even. She was fine, it was all good. The sound wasn't even that loud anyway and they'd already made noise by bumping into a few things earlier. Still she felt tense, her shoulders hunching up.

Mon amour - My love












































♡coded by uxie♡
 
Sybela Sybela Feral Feral

The raven’s head jerked back and it fluttered, frightened, on Colette’s shoulder. “Fools,” it croaked. The sound of tearing cloth shattered the silence and for a moment… all was still…

The raven whispered, “Run.” Then it flew away.

“YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE. YOUR FACE,”
the shrieks of shredded vocal cords and the tearing of flesh and skin rapidly grew louder.

“Light or doors! This way-caw!” the raven called from further down the hall. “Escape quickly or it will catch you!”
 
Doris MartinDoris_Martin.jpg
Calm down. A familiar sound entered her thoughts. I must know who damaged our home. She argued with herself. Her gaze stared off into the distance as her thoughts absorbed her. Calm down, Dory. Dory. He was not going to relent. This morning has been difficult. She admitted to her own thoughts. I know, Dory. Breathe in deeply.

She agreed with her internal portrayal of the voice of that man. The deep inhale that followed brought new air into her lungs and forced some problematic assumptions out of her mind. She could always rely on her blessing to reassure her, but... She paused. It had made her no less upset that the orphanage had suffered, in her eyes, unnecessary damages, but it somewhat cleared her mind. A more logical train of thought, fueled by Mateo's explanation rather than emotion, replaced her previous assumptions. Was it true that a stuck latch and some unexplained noises had forced their hands? As she rested her pale gaze on Gwyn's glove, she felt her expression soften at the thought of the girl. Yet, she could not shake the feeling that something else had a part in what had happened here. It was something she could not put together at the moment.

“Alright,”

Barely a sound from the aged voice, and Doris snapped back in line with her duties. Her gaze moved over to the man. Providing her undivided attention as he spoke. This man, the professor, had been closest to the Owner for as long as she could remember. Doris knew her presence was merely second-rate in that regard. As the professor explained the situation, he subsequently provided the script Doris would closely adhere to should the children have further questions later in the day. It was a reassuring feeling to know the professor would surely inform the whole of the caretakers before too long. She let out a sigh of relief as she let go of the internalized troubles that had surfaced since Olivia had unintentionally prevented them from aligning their stories earlier.

Upon the professor addressing her, she quickly adjusted her posture where necessary. Doris knew how to pose herself, but not all came equally naturally. Even after all these years. However, during her time at the orphanage, she had never slipped up in front of him specifically. This time was no different. If anything, she would ensure the professor never laid his eyes on her carrying herself incorrectly. Doris straightened her back and rested her hands neatly over her apron before bowing at the man.

Certainly, sir. I would be delighted to assist the children with their studies.” She stated, composed, in response to the request. However, the children that had been present before had already left. She could still hear the faint sound of Frida stomping through the halls. No doubt still dragging Quinn along by his wrist. With no stragglers remaining present to direct towards the classrooms, Doris saw no reason to linger. She took another bow, silently announcing her departure, and left through the door leading into the foyer.

The morning events brought memories back as soon as she laid eyes on the foyer. Her arrival at the orphanage filled her mind as she let her gaze wander the inviting space. Fine carpets and floral pieces offset the abundance of luxurious hardwood. It was as inviting as an entrance expected to be. She had intended to cut right through the room and pay it no mind as her destination was elsewhere. However, as she passed by the stairs, she felt compelled to stop and turn her attention toward the steps. A slight burning sensation returned to her eyes. She was up there. Somewhere.

Doris shook her head. In doing so, discarding the thought from her mind. She tore her gaze from the hardwood steps and pressed on. She had to. The sight of a small gathering at the end of the hallway greeted her as she left the foyer. They were Makoto and two of the children, Annai and Oliver. "We missed you during breakfast, Oliver. I do hope everything is well with you?" She asked as she approached them. The apparent intent of the question quickly changed from concerned interest to a simple pleasantry as she carefully navigated past them. Looking back at them once she had made it into the doorway behind them. "Makoto," she bowed lightly, "would you be so kind as to send these two to their class as soon as possible?"
Unbeknownst to her, she had contradicted the man's statement regarding postponed classes. Had she arrived sooner, she may have heard the damning words, but since she had not, all that followed was another bow before she disappeared into the library.

There were walls of bookshelves as far as the pale eye could see. It was a verified treasure trove of knowledge. At least for those willing to submerge themselves into the written word. Doris was not one of those people. She enjoyed writing herself – in the form of journalling – but could never sit down and enjoy a written story. Passing by a few of the shelves, her gaze traveled from distraction to distraction. A title she thought she recognized but then did not. Then, the golden glow of the chandeliers hanging from the engraved ceiling. Upon rounding a corner, she found her next 'distraction' — three of them, in fact. Frida, Quinn, and Ozymandias blocked her path toward the classroom. "I am pleased to see so many of you arriving here before me--" She spoke with her best attempt at sounding delighted in light of current events before her eyes fell on Frida's floating locks. "Frida, is everything well? I assure you the incident at the bathroom should not worry you any longer."

- - - - - - - - - -
Location: Bathroom -> Foyer -> Hallway -> Library
Interaction: Yes. Oliver ( SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles ), Makoto ( Kovacs Kovacs ), Frida ( Ghostiiys Ghostiiys ), Quinn ( CeaserXIX CeaserXIX ), Ozymandias ( Sunsmiter Sunsmiter )
Mentions: Also yes. Mateo ( AmberV AmberV ), Gwyn ( Sybela Sybela ), Annai ( aurivee_ aurivee_ )
 
Ozymandias
Location: Hallway
Interactions: Frida, Quinn
Mentions: N/A

1667437313781-png.1035951
"Hi Miss Martin!" Oz gave an euthusiastic wave, putting on his happy facade once more. "We were just chatting. Frida looked a bit pale but everything should be fine now. Are we starting classes soon?" He hadn't brought Aaru or the cat for that matter, but that hardly reassured him. The day had been so...weird. Everything was off, and it almost felt like he was trapped in a fishbowl, a timeloop of his own creation. Like sand sucking him down.
It was an absolutely repulsive feeling.
"So...what are we doing today?" Oz asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Do we get to practice our oddities?" He wouldn't mind any distraction from the day's...weird events. It hasn't happened to him yet, and with his optimistic attitude he surely hope no more of this weirdness would happen to him or anyone else, yet....
No time to worry now. Got to smile! Look happy, high morale's bound to do something. And besides, it was far better than just feeling so...down.
"And if we aren't going to do that, can someone please answer me on whether or not that one angle in the dining room is at 89 degrees or 90 degrees?"
Or that. In his defense, that angle was really bothering him.

Paperface Paperface Ghostiiys Ghostiiys CeaserXIX CeaserXIX
 






Colette.




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Backroom Labyrinth










Cole's ears rang, her instincts were screaming and she was as tense as a statue, they were going to die, weren't they? She sucked in a faint breath, her aura now tightly coiled, had she been giving off an aura? She didn't really remember, everything was kind of fuzzy.

Though, her mind was stuck more on the nickname than the message at the moment, nobody really had given her one, and the ones she did get were either mean or English. A language that felt detached from her emotions.

French was like... A freshly baked bread from the little bakery around the corner from the theater, sweet, soft, with a little bit of jam on top, its sweetness sending goosebumps down her arms... Well to say the least her native language meant a lot to her.

Cole didn't know how to deal with... Stuff... like this though. It was always weird when she bonded with someone, if that's what this was, bonding? What even were friends? Ugh...

She shut the feelings off, it wouldn't do to let her mind wander off in this situation, she was in danger, and she didn't want to admit she had forgotten for a moment. Cole closed her eyes for a moment getting her bearings as they walked.

Gwyn's voice called through her head as the sound of torn cloth, Cole stiffed, hair raising on her neck, Merde. Lights or doors.

Cole was right to get ready to run and run she would. The screeching of the monster hurt her ears and terror ran through her body. She gripped Gwyn's hand with her whole strength, her feet hit the floor and she slammed into a piece of furniture, knocking the tall thing over with a loud thud. Fuck.

She swerved the opposite way the thing fell, towards the side of the walls, which was surprisingly emptier than the furniture-filled center. The moment the cold wall met her outstretched fingers, she ran faster, fuck, if Gwyn couldn't keep up they were doomed. She yanked the girl closer to her, her hand letting go for a moment just to wrap her arm around the girl's waist. Just in case.

She sped up even more, desperately searching, forcing her mind to stay quiet in pursuit of a door or a light. She had to survive she would survive god, fuck, she couldn't die now. Not with Gwyn here.





♡coded by uxie♡
 
Sybela Sybela Feral Feral

Your muscles strained and your lungs burned as you ran, pushing past the limits of what you thought was possible for your body. The adrenaline flooding your veins was deafening. The blood rushed past your ears and you felt every heartbeat like the pounding of a drum beneath your ribs. Your fingers burned against the textured walls and the wild thrashing of the creature behind you grew louder. Your hands left the wall suddenly signifying the turn of a corner so you took it. Only a few steps were taken beyond it, however, before the Raven pecked the both of you in the head. So you froze. You didn’t dare move a muscle, even holding your breath for fear that your breaths were too loud. Then that was when it occurred to you. When did it get so quiet?

The static in Gwyn’s head has reached critical mass and for good reason. Moments of silence passed before a slow footstep dragged itself across the floor. The hair in the backs of your neck stood on end and a sensation found it’s way to Cole’s shoulder. It wasn’t the raven. A long, slender hand clutched her, leaning on her as if she was a still, cold mannequin. It’s fingers wrapped over her shoulder like devilish tongues hungry for the taste of flesh. Another slow, dragging footstep. Gwyn felt a prickling on her face, like a collection of searching, probing antennas tickling her nose, cheeks, and lips looking for the sensation of a breathing, living creature. So you held your breath, forcing your eyes shut.

Another step. And another. It took its hand off and wheezed. “Your face… your face… your face… your face…” it pleaded, sobbing. For a second, you almost pitied it. The creature sounded broken beyond any hope but you were no fools. You didn’t dare move an inch. It continued down the hallway and stopped. Then, the flick of a switch was heard and an old, flickering lamp buzzed to life. There it stood. Unmoving before a ledge just past you in the hallway. It seemed the Other had more tricks up its sleeve, for two other hallways branched from your path, but they didn’t move left or right. They went into the ceiling and into the floor. The Thing’s figure hung limp, like a person standing asleep or in a trance. Then suddenly, it screeched and from the cavity where it’s face should be, sprouted a countless number of insectoid legs that latched onto the walls and carried the Thing into the hallway above.

The raven remained perched on the lamp and stared quietly at Cole and Gwyn. After a few moments passed, it turned to look towards the end of the hall where a single wooden door stood, past the gap in the ground with the hallway leading straight down into more darkness. The static now was much softer. It seemed the Thing did not fancy the light too much.

“That is your exit,” the Raven said in a low voice. “Do try to avoid falling when you jump.”
 
Caretaker
Makoto Madiyarov
theme

No sooner had the two boys, following his instructions, disappeared around the corner than a familiar voice piped up from behind.

Makoto turned, subtly masking his startlement with a swift nod and an even swifter shuffle out of her way. The motion sent his cap swaying off his head, which he caught just in time with Doris' last few words of pleasantry to the Hawthorne boy. When he was addressed, Makoto let the last of his fluster fall away, replaced by some measure of attention. His cap also made the full way down, resting securely in his grip as one ear tuned in to the radio maid's request and the other listened to the squeal of train tracks in his head.

But it was too late. A collision of schedules, of confusing instruction, of whose authority to heed.

All on his watch.

Hand raising, there was a mind to chime in. But before he knew it, Doris had raised herself from her farewell curtsy and withdrew into the library, most likely to direct morning lessons. Shoulders heaving with the air of a tired sigh, Makoto turned to face his audience of two.

"You both heard her," he crossed his arms, before focusing on the illusionist girl. "Annai, we will talk more of what you saw later. Boy, don't worry now about the kitchens. Your sister will join you in lessons soon, I'm sure with Mr. J---"

A second interruption. This time, Makoto found it somewhat more difficult to mask his reaction in front of the children. Just momentary tightness, in both jaw and grip around his cap. The old Professor was no doubt a sharp man, a discerning academic whose ability to read between the lines softened even the harshest of critics. But true to many an intellectual, the only ideas worth his time or proper development were his own. Makoto would never make it to the top of his shelf, if only for the sin of being a difficult book, with the wrong cover for skin, the wrong spine for upbringing and the wrong accent flavoring any and every word within. After all, it was a tale as old as time, one that he, as the perpetual foreigner, was no stranger to.

Placing the cap back onto his head, Makoto gave the young pair a farewell nod before following after the Professor.

Abigail's hospitalization, went the words. Makoto glanced at Oliver and Annai. No doubt that was sure to ring alarm bells in their heads, and just in time for lessons. Another sigh.

...Ganbatte, Doris.

❂​

The office aromas of dust, candlewax and tobacco greeted them both. The Professor had long ago stopped offering him a seat in any capacity, to which Makoto decided to mold to his advantage and take the liberty to stand in his usual way, arms crossed and always near the door.

"Abigail," he started, as characteristically blunt as ever, though his gaze was less direct. The urgency and the memory of last night erased his usual Professor-tailored filter of keeping Japanese words out. "You...know, then? And the hospitalization. For the kodomo, that is the story?"


CODE BY SEROBLISS / VALOROUS ORDER
 
Quinn
- Following as best as he could with Frida to the classroom
- Sunsmiter Sunsmiter Ghostiiys Ghostiiys Paperface Paperface

Quinn barely had time to say much, before Frida had begun to drag him along, like a lost dog being found by it's owner, though he complained in no way, his eyes solely focused on simply following Frida, listening silently to her echoing footfalls, heavy and harsh, while they moved. He knew the Caretakers knew what he knew, 'But why would they hide it?' he silently thought to himself, having barely been able to fully process the events from the night prior. As they both neared the classroom, his mind still deep in thought, his eyes fell onto the young boy, Oz, and remembered what Mateo asked of him. "'Ey, Ozzy, Mateo said that he's not gonna need help wit' the garden, but he'd like yer' help with a busted door. Latch got stuck, so he 'ad to break the door in," he half lied, not wanting to inform anyone of what they had done to the bathroom door, or rather, what he had done to said door.

Not too much after he finished speaking, is when he noticed the sudden shift in the air, feeling locks of his own hair lift up into the hair, seeing Frida's enraged eyes, immediately causing him to move to her side, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "'Ey, 'ey, 'tis all good now, we can' get in trouble for what jus' 'appened, yea? No need to lose yer' temper now, an' ya' know this, love. Come on, don' make me 'ave to make ya' smile," he teased softly to her, gently poking her cheek with a sky and cheeky grin, much like that of a cheshire cat, mischief written all over his face, before he noticed Doris coming towards them, knowing she'd be wondering on what was going on in that current moment. "Tis' alrigh', Sis. I've got it, no need to get ya' jimmies ina' jam," he quickly said, trying to keep Doris away from the currently flammable and easily escalating situation he was currently trying to deescalate.
 


Mateo Solinas
Mateo tugged the woolen collar of his overcoat close as he stepped out into the brisk morning. The sun reflected off the newly laid snow and he began the slow trudge through the fresh drifts, eyes pinned to the ground as he looked for any footprints that might belong to the girls. The morning deliveries had mucked up the snow in areas, but he doubted that they could have slipped out through the kitchens. The other caretakers weren't so blind that they wouldn't notice Gwyn and Cole sneaking through the kitchens right under their noses. So the girls would have had to have left through a window or one of the doors, if they had left at all.

He was doubting that they had left at all. On a morning this cold, the warmth of the library's roaring fireplace would be far more welcoming.

Then again, children did foolish things. Quinn was out at night far more than he should be, regardless of the cold.

God above, that boy worried him. Mateo couldn't count the number of times he'd tried to talk sense into the lad, warning him that the woods were no place to wander at night. But nothing had come for the boy yet, thank the Heavens. He couldn't imagine Quinn keeping something like that from him. Something will, eventually. The voice in the back of his mind nagged at him, taunting him. It was a pity that it was right.

Mateo had searched for days for Georgie. The only times he dragged himself back to the orphanage were to eat and drink, before returning to scour the woods. Everyone gets unlucky eventually and Quinn, someday, would get unlucky. Mateo prayed that, when that day came, he would be close enough to do something about it.

There were no breaks in the fresh snow outside the windows. His long circuit around the orphanage was proving fruitless, but it at least told him that he had far less to search than he had feared. There were only so many rooms in the orphanage, after all.




Location: Foyer-> Gardens and Grounds
Tags:
Mention: Quinn, Gwyn, Cole

 

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