WEEK 2

[grimgrinningghosts]

[One week. One week spent in the Haunted Mansion, and nothing seems to have changed. The hinges still creak in doorless chambers, strange and frightening sounds still echo through and you still occasionally catch a flicker of candlelight out of the corner of your eye. You might be slowly becoming familiar with the mundanity of this communal life, and we've recognized that possibility.

Something has to give.]

[SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY]

{ooc: Don't forget to turn in your week 1/intro AC! As per murdergame tradition, this begins our new weekly schedule - Tuesday and onwards are locked for the motive. Everybody's just working for the weekend.

Additionally, a few people this week are going to get tagged by...something. If you'd like to opt out of this, please let us know.}

Comments

[grimgrinningghosts]

[What? Nah. Furious head-shaking. Absolutely not.]

[defyingfrigidity]

[Sorry friend, Elsa knows desperate attempts at dodging a question.]

It's okay if it is. I just thought I'd ask, because it might help those of us trapped here find a way to solve the mystery of what's going on here.

[How? She's not sure. But they have to gather all the information that they can right now, and being able to connect a few dots will definitely help.]

[grimgrinningghosts]

[No, no. It's not. That guy's just a portrait.

The hat seems curious, though, and it sort of "leans" forward, as if to listen.]

[defyingfrigidity]

[A portrait's gotta be based off someone, doesn't it? Even if it's someone just posing for it.]

There has to be a way to connect the people in those portraits to the mystery that's surrounding this mansion, isn't there? If we could talk to even just one of you... or one of them... it might be able to help us escape. [She thinks back to those portraits again. The things they depicted...] You... they... died in this mansion, correct? For such a thing to be on a prominent display like that...

[There's a pause, and then it's like a light flickers on above her head.]

If you are one of those men in that portrait... Were you like us, before you died?

[grimgrinningghosts]

Tch.

[A voice finally emerges from the direction of the hat, it's nasally, high-pitched. Somewhat Skeletor-esque. The sound of fingers tapping can be heard.]

Y'know we're not 'sposed to talk to you guys, right? Can't help you out all that much.

[defyingfrigidity]

[!!! She wasn't expecting a voice like that! Oh, this has to be good...!]

Why not? If you're allowed to interact with us, like our chess game, why is talking forbidden?

[grimgrinningghosts]

There's a difference 'tween spookin' you guys and talkin', queenie.

[The hat leans back just a little.]

Don' make no sense to me either.

[defyingfrigidity]

After the first time I saw one of those chess pieces moving, that was far from spooky. I enjoyed that game we played, even if I wasn't very good.

[Hmm... if they aren't allowed to talk, then there's probably no point in asking him who the person who set out the rules for the ghosts is. That might put him in trouble, and Elsa doesn't want that.]

Do you think you can find some sort of loophole to communicate with us? Writing on paper or short messages on a mirror or some such thing?

[She's read a few spooky stories involving creepy messages left on mirrors or foggy windows... that could count as the ghosts "spooking" them, right?]

[grimgrinningghosts]

Hey, hey. I ain't some kinda chess champion over here.

[There is a moment of pause, however.]

Maybe. Don't imagine I got anything too interestin' ta say.

[defyingfrigidity]

I'd like to know all of your names, at least. We all may be a bit different, but we're all stuck here together, correct? We should at least know each other's names.

[grimgrinningghosts]

Call me Ezra.

[well there ya go]

[defyingfrigidity]

[She flashes him (the hat???) a smile, and bows politely.]

These may not be the most ideal circumstances, but... it's a pleasure to meet you, Ezra. [A pause, then...] You... called me "queenie". Does that mean you know who I am?

[grimgrinningghosts]

The dress sorta gives it away, don' it?

[...right.]

[defyingfrigidity]

It does, doesn't it? [she laughs and rubs at her neck awkwardly, looking a little sheepish.] I suppose I've lost a bit of the subtlety I had growing up.