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TrashQM

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TrashQM ID:RZ9/02ZS Sun 04 Aug 2024 23:54:31 No.6073730 View View Report

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If things really get that bad, you can just walk - or in all honesty, run - away, leaving it behind. It is a painful prospect, to be sure - but one that you are not unfamiliar with. How much have you given up on over the years, simply to remain safe? At this point, such depths may be unfathomable; you probably wouldn't even realize everything you have forgone, missed out on. You will, however, allow yourself a peek through the shutters in the doors ... which now that you look seem to have shaken themselves open during the ride.

" ... count of twenty-six, count of - "

Maker's Mercy, you hope that they shook themselves open. Otherwise ... no, no - you cannot give in to such senseless panic. If they were opened by someone else, would they close them? And even if you suppose that they were, and that this peeper did close the fraying shutters, what would they have seen? You, yes, they would have seen you - but with your eyes closed you gutter-borne mental derelict. Be calm! Be calm, and take your look.

"Count of ... thirty? Oh, on the Heights of Hell. Count of thirty-one, count of thirty-two ..."

There are many things that prove to be easier thought than done though. This among them. Cautiously, you try to lift yourself off of the damned cushions - which you are most assuredly going to be using as kindling at the first available opportunity - only to find that the bench, and even the floor beneath it, creaks as you shift your weight. Wasn't this silent as you got in to the cabin ... or is it that as you are now trying to be quiet that you finally notice the noise? You are beset with second thoughts, but these ... these you manage to push through. You simply have to know what is outside that window.

"...count of forty-three, count of - Fray this floor! - forty-four, count of forty-five ..."

That is your problem, isn't it? You were Woven with a cat's mind and a chicken's heart. A dangerous, dangerous combination. Scant solace may be taken, however, that there is yet to be any indication that either your abundance of curiosity or you absence of courage is going to doom you in the next minute or so. Though it seems like the floor of the cabin creaks like a ship in a swell, your long legs are able to make it to the door in one tenuous stride.

" ... count of fifty-one, count of fifty-two, count of fifty-three ..."

Unfortunately for you, no solace may be taken at the sight out of the window. The angle is poor, and not like to be improved by taking the risk of opening the shutters. The lighting is even worse. Immediately, you can see that you are off of the street and on a yard. But it is the yard of Cancer House? Is it just another portion of Nasturtium's yard, one that you didn't see? Is it somewhere else entirely?

" ... count of fifty-nine, count of sixty, count of sixty-one ..."

TrashQM

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TrashQM ID:TPDAwIdN Fri 26 Jan 2024 05:22:06 No.5903873 View View Report

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Eventually, your circuit of the room brings you before the barred shelf – and you cannot help but take a moment to try to peer at the titles. Not that it does you a lick of good, the damned bars are too thick and too numerous for you to make out much of anything on the other side of them, at least on a quick pass. You turn your back on the barred shelf and head over to its nearest unbarred neighbor, but the more distance you put between those 'stitched-up' texts and yourself, the less certain you are that you are making the right call about them. But a surprise is waiting for you on the next built-in bookcase; among some histories of Pre-Estrangement Monastic Orders are five copies of the Compendium, the Sacred Works of the Priests. Your first thought is that five copies of the Compendium is excessive – there are probably more copies of the Compendium on this shelf than there are in all the Temples in Stickport – but your mind doesn't immediately go straight to larceny, as it might with more secular sundries. Considering the near-total absence of religious instruction in your life, you cannot say with any surety just how much of a sin it would be for you to steal one of these; if it would be on the level of … say, desecrating a grave for personal gain, or what … but with -

Wait! These aren't – no, one is the Reformed Priests … but the rest are apostatical! There are the 'Right-Thinkers', the idolaters who built the building that became the Not-Temple, and the rest … you haven't even heard of, so you can only imagine how heretical these text must be. You say a litany of warding prayer, making the accompanying gestures – and for good measure, you resolve to take nothing from that case. You continue on, trying not even to look in the direction of that shelf, lest a pall fall upon you and your Thread become even more frayed and your Will become more unsound – but blessedly, the rest of the room passes without similar unpleasantness. Returning to the table where you unslung your 'sack, you find that by deliberately avoiding looking at the shelf with the Compendium and those ... corruptions, you are once again looking at the barred shelf. You couldn't say how much time has passed since you started your circuit of the room, but you feel that you have made decent time, considering what you set out to do. So it is you find yourself tempted once more by the barred shelf. It looks ... pretty full, all things considered, but your father simply could have moved books into it from the other shelves, to replace what had been removed. In passing, you find yourself wondering what must have become of the books that he pulled out - but you stop yourself.

TrashQM

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TrashQM ID:RIInxY/i Tue 12 Dec 2023 05:53:37 No.5862801 View View Report

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And yet, you got right up close to the head - while smoke was billowing out of it - and you noticed no heat. That ... that doesn't make sense, now does it? Of course, there are casts and preparations that can absorb heat - Hell, there are things that can be done to conceal or sink heat without the Many Mysteries. But you certainly have seen no evidence of them here - and if you think about it, would it make sense to set up a heat-wicker on the strickening striker? Well ... perhaps as a safety feature. But then, wouldn't you have seen or otherwise perceived it working? You - ugh, what smells?

You turn away from the 'pruned' remains and back to the Logic Organ - just in time to see this beige liquid start to seep from inside the bundles to their outermost layer; and this is in all of the bundles, up and down the length of the Sub-Assembly. Choking and stifling a scream into a garbled half-gasp, half-squeak, you lunge back into the chimney, fears of black humors in the smoke all forgotten. You are not sure what exactly this substance is, but you find that it is already starting to congeal - much in the same way that fatty juices from meat might after being taken from heat, except much faster. Pattern's Perdition, is this what passes as blood for the Logic Organ? Did the 'pruning' hurt it after all? Is it dying? Outside of the unexpected presence of this liquid, you are aware of nothing that would suggest that the Logic Organ or the Construct is in anyway unwell. But ... at the same time, you weren't able to tell if everything 'downstream' of the short was alive or dead, either ...

Damn it, damn it, damn it! Alright, just ... just ... don't panic! Right, absolutely no panicking!

Thankfully, before overlong it occurs to you that regardless of what might be happening - or what already might have happened - it ultimately shouldn't make a difference. If the Logic Organ is hurt - or dead - then there is nothing that you can do about it. And if the Logic Organ has not been hurt, why, then there is nothing to do about it. Of course, you should have clued into this immediately, but you are running on what amounts to naps and snacks for ... what, two, three days now?

That is the last thought not about examining and documenting the Construct you allow yourself for quite some time. Your fingers are positively flying as you work your way through one of the bundles, managing to stay ahead of the congealing - and now hardening - beige discharge. There is a lot that remains unclear - what the repurposed brains were taken from, the functions of the different types of Conduit you come across, and of course, what exactly is the beige liquid and where exactly it is coming from - the repurposed brains, the spiderweb-like mesh of almost silken Conduit that wraps them, the thick red and raw Conduit that bands them just under the surface of the mesh, or from somewhere deeper within this morass.

TrashQM

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TrashQM ID:p4HPEaMP Sat 14 Oct 2023 05:41:04 No.5794671 View View Report

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Well, either way, you are going to get more light in here. With your free right hand, you fish out the snap-sparker you pilfered earlier from the basement, then after taking a lingering look at the squirming, fleshy mass of the Construct, you turn on your heel and carefully make your way over to the nearest of the sconces on the wall, hoping to find candles that have been left behind in their perches. So you could get some light in here ... and also so you could pinch a few, and be able to put the waxy revenant you have atop your 'stick to rest. Actually, considering what candles are going for now-a-days, you would do well to load yourself - no, you can't be thinking like that. Right now, you need to concern yourself with the Strangeness, the Constructs and the Mysteries of Aldoin's house first and foremost before you can bog yourself down with swag-seeking. To tell it true, at the rate you are going, you might have to forego swag-seeking entirely. Obviously, that is a distressing prospect, considering just how much wealth is just lying about you in this house ... but you also have to consider that you already have a handsome little hoard of your own, waiting for you back in the Belfry. And of course, the longer your head start on the Inquisition is, the more likely you are to make a - oh, damn your black luck! Oil sconces! Well, so much for stockpiling candles ...

You spend more than a few moments single-handedly fumbling with the sconce - which even at your height is still over your head - before you finally figure out how to get at the wick. You bring the snap-sparker to bear on it, and soon you get the wick silently sizzling away. For a brief second, you consider trying to take the entire sconce off of the wall, to carry it with you instead of the 'stick ... but as the sconce doesn't have anything on it that looks like a reservoir, you think it might get its oil from a line in the walls. Resigned to sticking with the 'stick for the immediate future, you walk over to a few of the other sconces and light them up. As you return to the fireplace, it occurs to you in passing just how ... odd it is, to have a sitting room like this. On the second floor. With absolutely no windows. And now that you notice it, with only one door. To be sure, you can understand why Aldoin would want to muster up as much privacy as possible, but ... well, it is just unsettling, that's all. And it certainly doesn't help that whenever you are looking at the Construct - as you are now - your back is to the room's only door. Damn it, is this more induced paranoia, or is this genuine instinct?

TrashQM

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TrashQM ID:5Nd1tkiB Sun 27 Aug 2023 04:15:18 No.5747301 View View Report

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> Please choose ONE of the following:
> Perhaps the cast just finished remediating you. Beyond losing out on the compass of misery, there is nothing to worry about here - continue investigating the chest. You think you might have been on to something.
> Perhaps the cast just finished remediating you. Beyond losing out on the compass of misery, there is nothing to worry about here - resume looking for the source of the unknown noise. The mystery of 'what is this empty chest secured to' is the least of your worries at the moment.
> Perhaps the cast just finished remediating you - or perhaps something else happened. Either way, you are going to be best served heading straight to the point of emission/origin of the cast - you know it ... well enough from having the compass that you should be able to find it without too much trouble.
> Perhaps the cast just finished remediating you - or perhaps the caster Construct was just retrieved by whoever put it here. Or the caster themselves stopped casting. Either way, with your eyes beaming like this, there is no way that you can hope to hide from them and look at them at the same time. Hunker down!
> Perhaps the cast just finished remediating you - or perhaps the caster Construct was just retrieved by whoever put it here. Or the caster themselves stopped casting. Either way, with your eyes beaming like this, there is no way that you can hope to hide from them and look at them at the same time. Leave the house!

I feel quite like a heel making you all wait nearly two days to open a chest only to find nothing in it - and then to take away the compass of misery on top of that. Not to mention that natural 100 that ended up getting burned ... So I figure you all deserve some OCC assurance.

Even after being gone through more than once, there is still potential swag in this house. Typical valuables, practical articles, Mystery-Adjacents (like the False Silverware), and Mysteries. Two separate Mysteries, very different.

However, I cannot come out and say how safe it is going to be to remain in the house long enough to find them all. Apologies about that - and apologies about making you all wait so long for what must be a disappointing update.

TrashQM

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TrashQM ID:oF3bbUSm Sat 12 Aug 2023 08:55:09 No.5734034 View View Report

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After checking to make sure that you have everything stowed as well as you possibly can, you head out of the room, following your 'compass of misery'. Conscious of how little time you have here, but still trying to be thorough, you look around the room one last time as you briskly stride into the next -

- or you would have, had you not smacked into the fraying corner of the fraying table thigh-first like some overstimulated gibbering idiot.

After spending so long in almost complete silence, the hollow echoing sound of the impact and the feet of the table scraping against the flagstone floor startles you into inaction - so once the glassware on the table starts to topple, you don't immediately react. By the time that you come to your senses, you can intuitively tell that you aren't going to be able to stop them from falling and smashing onto the flagstones but instinctively, you rush over to stop them anyway, even as the first piece of glassware is loudly breaking on the floor. However, in the process of rounding the table, you catch yourself on another fraying corner of the fraying table, and wrench your fraying 'stick right out of your hand. The loud, brassy clang that the 'stick makes as it lands is enough to drown out the glasses breaking.

Startled into inaction again, you just stare after the 'stick for a moment, until finally silence returns to the room. Numbly, you shuffle over to the 'stick and retrieve it in the darkness, making sure that the candle is out and that none of the grass took light from it before returning it to its seat. All the while, your head - and the room - are spinning like a top. You - you are frayed! Completely and utterly! There is nothing between this room and the first floor besides some planks - surely someone heard that. But what do you do?

> Please choose ONE of the following:
> You are going to beat a full retreat and leave the house immediately - you might come back later, but right now you need to leave.
> You are going to go hide yourself in some corner of the basement and hope that whoever comes to check on this doesn't find you.
> You are going to try to make fertilizer out of this shit by setting up an ambush overlooking this room.
> You are going to try to make fertilizer out of this shit by setting up an ambush overlooking the stairs in the room with the broken in casement window.

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