MINGLE | WEEK FOUR

[lockedmods]

MINGLE LOG | WEEK 4
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Another week gone, and with it, two of your number. Only eleven of you remain alive. And still, there is no escape. Or is there?

This week, something has changed. Something is different. Beginning Sunday, Pratibha is gone, and cannot be found or located at all. After Sunday's puzzle is solved, and the attic opened to you, you will see why. But what has happened? How has this happened? And why is the only other object there a strange mirror? Perhaps you should investigate.

On Monday morning, your motive quickly becomes apparent. Will you isolate yourself? Will you risk being around others? The choice, as ever, is yours.

On Tuesday, the week's second puzzle becomes available, and with its solving, the game room. If you wanted another way to unwind from all the stress, pressure, and uncertainty, at least there's this?

Come Wednesday, you may realize that at last you have full run of the house. Every room is available to you now. Nevertheless, you cannot run from the messages, which come thicker and faster than ever.

On Thursday, you may wish to visit the greenhouse. There is nothing there for you--including no mysterious messages, from the dead or otherwise. Should you wish for a reprieve, the greenhouse will grant it to you. That is, at least until curfew. Should you remain out of your room past that time, the messages will return, and they will be utterly inescapable no matter where you go--or if you are alone.

Friday is investigation time once again. The investigation post will go live at 3 PM EST, 5/30.

Saturday is the day of your fourth real ritual. The ritual post will go live at 12 PM EST, 6/1.

Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday | Friday

code bases by tricklet

Comments

Investigaaaation

[lockedmods]

[At the very bottom of a stack of games is an unmarked box. It looks pretty old. Inside are a handful of basic dolls made of colored paper, some dried flowers, and a small notebook. All of these items are also over a decade old.

The dolls have signs of having been torn and painstakingly repaired, as though replacements were not available--as though even colored paper was something precious.]

[doctopoda]

[Hmmm. As soon as it's obvious there's something interesting, he transfers it to his actual hands for more delicate handling. These things look old. Rosie's field more than his, but Otto at least knows to be careful. He'll pick up the notebook first, flipping it open.]

[lockedmods]

[The pages within are full of the drawings and writing of a child. She's helpfully written her name on the inside cover.

'EUi'

The first few drawings wouldn't be out of place on any preschooler parent's refrigerator. They all feature a house and a long-haired figure, probably a girl. Sometimes a taller long-haired figure is there, too. As the pages go on, eventually that figure disappears.

Little Eui begins to write captions for her drawings.

'TodAY I wAs A princes iN A cAsTLe.'
'fLowers arE preTTY'
'We PLaYed housE.'

Even illustrations that aren't set outside depict some part of the house. A window. A door. A washing machine.

An altar.

All houses have those, right?]

[doctopoda]

[Ah...one of his actuators, subconsciously, turns to look at the ceiling, in the direction where Pratibha lies.

Anything else in the notebook?]

[lockedmods]

[It's all like that, pictures and little stories, but they become progressively more sophisticated as he pages through. The motor skills sharpen, the grammar and spelling get better. The writing also becomes more descriptive, more narrative--not just captions, but records of games of pretend once played. Chores are translated into heroic tasks. Imagination transforms the house into a cave of wonders, a witch's lair, a fairy world. No other playmates are mentioned.

One of the last pages reads, in what is still definitely a child's hand, but an older one:

'The master says the house doesn't speak, but I know it likes to hear stories.']

[doctopoda]

[His claws click rhythmically, and then one raps on the floor.]

You still like to hear stories, hm?

[lockedmods]

[A pause.

Then the house writes back in a hand not unlike the child Eui's.]

YOU COULD TELL A NEW ONE. ONE YOU'D EAT RIGHT UP.

[doctopoda]

Doesn't seem like that worked out too well for Eui. But maybe, if you ask nicely.

[He's a little over all of this, at this point!]

[lockedmods]

YOU COULD GO BACK.

YOU COULD STOP IT FROM HAPPENING.

ALL OF IT.

[doctopoda]

[..........]

I don't believe you could do that.

[lockedmods]

[The handwriting changes. It's Rosalie's.]

'You could save me.'

1/2

[doctopoda]

[Otto goes white. There's a long moment of silence.]

2/2

[doctopoda]

[Then he drives a claw into the wall bearing her words, hard.]

Don't you dare!

[lockedmods]

[The house creaks a little, amused, but neither retaliates nor responds beyond that. The idea's in his head now. Its work here is done.]