week six

[facultwist]

Wake up, Rosenblum Hall. Wake up.

Four more. Four more bodies. Four more gone.

All of you wake up Sunday with the knowledge that things are going to keep on like this, but you also know that there has to be something you can do about it. The Headmistress can bleed, and the Headmistress can lose control. One way or another, there's something in your gut that tells you that the routine will end soon enough. What else can she throw at you?

There's a second feeling that creeps in, though: the thought that you may have done this before. And if you've done this before... how are you here? Why are you here? Is it just a curse, a twisted form of fate?

One more of the tunnel gates has opened, allowing you access to your last full area. There may not be much there, but there is at least something, right?

As always, remember: Rosenblum Hall is here for you. Rosenblum Hall will always be here for you.



SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[ ooc: welcome to the sixth week of rosenblum hall! there are new areas to explore!

Here you can find activity check, regains, and Isabella's office hours. ]

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SUNDAY

[facultwist]

MONDAY

[facultwist]

PICNIC! MEETING!!

[curdle]

[ Thomasin, as ever, does fuckall on Sunday! Even this strange new dream and the many, many questions it raises aren't enough to cause her to break the Sabbath... technically. Once the sun goes down, however, you can find her making furious preparations all over the campus on both Sunday night and Monday morning. She's baking in the cafeteria, she's grabbing books (including a cookbook) from the library, she's grabbing bolts of fabric from the art rooms and all the wood she can find from the wood shop and the props in the theater, and she'll tell anyone who encounters her precisely why she's doing it and accept any help that's offered. (Mariko is in on it from the beginning, Satsuki does a bunch of moving heavy objects, and god only knows if and how disastrously those two things overlap!) Anyone who's not clued in will find out when, after she's gotten most of what she needs set up and put aside (in the cafeteria kitchen and church, respectively), she slips a painstakingly neat note under their doors.

BONFIRE & PICNIC LUNCH IN THE QUAD AT NOON
IN HONOR OF MARI (AND ALL OUR DEAD)
DRESS WARM, BRING WHATEVER YOU LIKE
-THOMASIN

Right where Lottie once prayed, where those less cowardly than Thomasin heard the storm and it heard them, a bonfire roars. Thomasin herself is standing nearby, roasting a skewer of fruit over the flames. Reams of cloth are spread out over the dirt, along with thick blankets... but also, the picnic tables are right there if people would rather not sit on the ground, and that's where most of the food is anyway. She's got a tray with more unroasted skewers if anyone wants them! She's got sandwiches! She's got (definitely taken from a can and then zhuzhed up) hot soup! She's got a bunch of gingerbread! She's made muffins! There are also a truly ridiculous amount of hot drinks in thermoses, a bunch of cups to drink them and the soup from, some cold cuts in case Varric shows up... and about half the local history books the library has to offer. Yum.

After everyone shows up, and people have gotten some food, she speaks up. ]

Like as not you all knew the true purpose to this invitation, but I will say it still. We must talk about our dreams, and share all of what we've found in this place, if we ever hope to escape it... yes, even if you think it impossible. I cannot speak as Dorothy spoke, not without being a hypocrite. My words have too little virtue. They cannot ward off my own despair, let alone yours. They cannot dull the edge of whichever blade that woman has prepared for us tomorrow.

But I do have faith in us, despite it all. That may be only the truth for myself, but it is the truth. [ There's a beat before she adds, much more awkwardly: ] ... And that is all I had to say.

[hootheart]

[Tiera gives Thomasin a nod of appreciation, taking a piece of gingerbread to nibble on as she taps at her phone.]

Last dream. Wake up strange place, hear announcement: meet in two hour. Think connect other dream before. In other dream, still know Jann, Jann still have shop, but everything else very different. No electric power. Animal all different. Bird family different.

[thanoptical]

[Satsuki has Kana’s dream journal but she looks… excited, somehow?]

Last week I dreamed I could predict how people would die! Way before it actually happened! Isn’t that incredible?!

[curdle]

I dreamed the same thing as Tiera, this last Friday night. And the week before... it seems we all dreamed of something that never happened to us, that felt real and true. Did anyone else have a second dream, after that?

Because I did, and Kana too. I dreamed I fled through the woods with another girl, hand-in-hand. Men were chasing us, and if we stopped, we would surely die. Whoever's memory it was, she feared them and God in equal measure. She had found love that needed no man, and went contrary to God's nature.

... It seemed all too familiar. I looked into the history of the nearby town, and a little into the Monroes, hoping I might find something new. Two girls fled into the woods, accused of witchcraft. One was never named, though they said she was like a beast. The other was Maria Fairweather, daughter of the architect who built Rosenblum Hall. His name was Cyrus, and he knew Aloysius well in England. He was still alive when the fire ravaged the Hall and killed his friend, but by then, his daughter was long dead and he was an old, infirm man. He could do little more than recommend local artisans to Louise and her husband Charles.

[goldendoll]

... Ave Mujica was still together. I never came to Burnbriar, and Saki-chan— [ she pauses, then: ]

... Togawa Sakiko, wasn't sent away, either. We played songs I know were mine, but I never wrote them.

[rednails]

[It's perhaps the most work anyone has seen Mariko do, the way she's carrying everything alongside Thomasin and is diligently making sure that the picnic blankets and tablecloths have their wrinkles smoothed out. By the end, she looks pretty proud of herself.

She and Satsuki both might be looking a little banged up, though. Don't worry about it.]

I didn't think much about mine at first. It was another one of those fire dreams.

[This was different, though. She was burning down her own house in this one. Mariko doesn't lead with this information, of course. Seems like a bad look.]

This new one, though... [Her demeanor shifts into something wistful. It's her first pleasant dream in a sea of nightmares so she has a fondness for it, this dream.] I was being accepted into a sorority, being handed a bouquet of roses by this beautiful girl. She looked so mature with these big blonde curls, like a doll. And I was so happy I cried. I can't explain... the way it felt. Like I'd run for miles and could finally breathe.

[These past weeks she'd been dreading going to sleep. Now, she feels a sense of remorse that she can't go back. Even though something about it all felt wrong, it still felt... nice.]

[tomestones]

[Dagr is here, and looking kind of uncomfortable with the topic of dreams, but...]

As much as I don't like the idea that those dreams are... real and some other version of us... I kind of can't deny that they feel real.

In those dreams, I was called the "Warrior of Light". I was... a hero to a realm called Eorzea. I fought against a man from an evil Empire that was trying to conquer Eorzea and his ultimate weapon, and won. I fought against a corrupt member of the Church and ended a war between men and dragons. And neither of these were enough; I wanted even stronger foes to set my blades against.

[They pull a small object out of a pocket and hold it out for the others to see.]

I would be fine just believing that these were merely stress dreams... but the dumbwaiter gave me this today. I... recognize it. It belongs to that other "me", the Warrior of Light. It was a mark of their power, the source of their abilities.

[They aren't sure how to explain that they know it's the real deal either, but there will be a top level for that later if you want to mess with that!!]

I don't understand what's going on here. What do these dreams mean?

[shellhawked]

[Hawke has been mostly MIA since Friday night but she's here with a few dumbwaiter items that feel too specific to not belong to someone and her arms full of books.]

When Alena found the underground pool last week she called me in to pick the lock on a locker she found. It was full of really edgy books on demons and possession, spray paint and chalk. It has most of the symbols painted on the pool in it and, what I'm guessing is, really shitty Latin. [She opens one of the books to the pages that opened naturally that first time.] I didn't know when I first read it but I'm sure this is the ritual the Ghost Hunters' club and Mari were trying to use to talk to the witch.

[As for dreams.....]

The night after Vanity's trial I dreamed I was in a duel with a giant man with horns in what looked like a fantasy Camelot version of my hometown. Or maybe the Wizard of Oz is better here because my friends from back home were all there. He was angry because he and his people couldn't leave Kirkwall until an artifact that'd been stolen from them was returned but he was respectful to me when I walked in. He called me... [She wrecks her brain to find the words again and not let them tie up her tongue.] "Basalit-an".

It turned out my Isabella had run off with his book but she came back with it and said it was because of me. The horned guy, the Arishok- [The nice thing about odd words is they stick out so much when you're verbally recalling them.] he was going to take her with him to punish her. [Hawke looks pained for a brief moment before continuing.] I had to duel him. I couldn't let him take her.

So I did, one-on one with a guy made out of solid muscle twice my size and I won. [We'll leave out the several minutes of running in circles around pillars and chugging her one single health potion.] He got a few good hits in but I killed him, I saved the city...and they started calling me Champion of Kirkwall.

[What a title to struggle to live up to.]

After some of the dream talk

[thanoptical]

Is it me or does it feel like we’re in the Matrix?

[kickdownthatwall]

....Well. I dreamed that I was princess in fantasy world, and I was going on adventure to fight in tournament to prove my strength. My old tutor Borya and my friend Kyril were also there, but they were wizard and priest? I did not have any magic, I just had fists and occasional weapon accessories. In one dream I took place of sacrificial maiden and killed monster who was eating maidens, and in other dream I won tournament to marry princess.

...

I fought I think a yeti who could make illusions of himself in tournament. It was very good. I did not fight Psaro the Manslayer, though, which is shame. I would have beaten him as well.

TUESDAY

[facultwist]

MOTIVE - there is something at work in my soul

[facultwist]

[ Tuesday comes once more, and with it, the Headmistress. She sounds… somber? There’s something strange in her voice. ]

Dining hall. You know why.

[ Once everyone is gathered, it’s a minute or so before the Headmistress speaks up. ]

I’m not going to lie, things get ugly from here on out. Did you know ghosts can kill ghosts?

[ In case any ghosts are in the room, the place heats up a degree or two. ]

I mean it’s not like… KILLING THEM killing them, it’s more… anyway, here’s the deal. If you don’t kill someone this week, I’m purging the whole school of ghosts. All of them, poof. And I know what you’re thinking - hey, that means no more Vanity or Misty - which, shame on you, but that’s your right! I’m not here to tell you what to think, that’s regular teachers’ jobs.

See you Friday. Or not.

[curdle]

[ She doesn't know what this means, really. She only knows that she is terrified. ]

We must speak to them again.

[facultwist]

[ That motive sure was something, huh... Really got everyone spooked. Maybe you need to take a moment and breathe away from everyone else. Maybe try and wash your face?

Whatever the reason. Satsuki, the next time you go to use the restroom in your dorm, you will find something is amiss. ]

investigation

[shellhawked]

[Tuesday again and Hawke is...fine. She's fine because she has to be. No shutting down, no backing down. There may be plans for later to consult the ghosts on their opinion for what needs to be done and Hawke will be there. She has a side quest to complete first.

Her focus is laser set on on one location: the clocktower. She walks toward it with straight-backed posture of someone on a mission. It's the first location they've gotten access to where one of them was executed. There has to be something here, even if it's all reset twice over now.

The animals are staying inside for this but she still crouches in the doorway to the clocktower to greet Bernie the cat with scratches under her chin.] Hey, sweet girl. You've missed out on a lot and good on you for it.

[...Actually to start this off, is Bernie's food and water bowl in here?

No matter the results of her investigation, Hawke is back on the field later in the day. Arrow after arrow, bullseye after bullseye with no regard for the damage to the ones that overlap.]

[hootheart]

[Tiera remembers her dreams. The urge to fly still stirs within her even now, and she finds herself slowly pacing her way up the clock tower. She slows down a bit when she recalls Vanity's execution, but makes it to the top eventually, leaning out as far as she can.

For most of the day, she's probably going to be up there, gazing out over the campus and singing bits of songs into the air.

However, as evening falls, she returns and heads for the stables, where she manages to get a lead onto Milton and take him for a walk around the field. She's not going to risk any of the other horses, considering how they're all still pretty nervous around her. She does not want to get bitten by Pagoda.]

investigation

[tomestones]

[That sure is a motive, goddamn. Dagr was silent during it, and they leave quickly. Not long afterwards, you can find them in the dining hall, leaving a pile of stuff out on one of the tables with a short, handwritten note: Feel free to take any of this. -Dagr

From there, it's off to the performing arts complex; they've worked backstage on several productions (as they have no acting talent, unsurprisingly) so it makes sense to go see what's been moved or messed with back here. Anything that immediately draws their eye?

As it starts to get late, they make their way back to the athletic center, but for once they aren't shooting hoops. They are on the basketball court, but they're currently flipping a kitchen knife in their hand; if they were capable of these sick tricks before, they certainly never showcased them here. That's almost an idle motion as they speak aloud.]

Hey, guys? Can you hear me? I guess I should've tried to set up a proper séance or something, but... well, too late for that. Maybe just give me a sign you're listening in?

[...]

I hope everyone else is having more luck...

investigation

[curdle]

[ A little before midnight, Thomasin sneaks out of bed and goes to the precise spot in the lounge where she saw Louise playing the piano on week 1. She takes her family's Bible, a notebook and pen, a candelabra... and that one jar of peaches. Yes, she's had it in her room for six weeks. Don't worry about it. Her hair is in one long plait behind her back, for fire safety reasons, and she's wearing a long white linen shift that ties in the front and smells like woodsmoke.

She listens to the howling storm outside until she feels certain it is past twelve, whether or not the clocktower is even remotely audible, before she begins. The notebook sits open in her lap, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, and she holds the pen in her right hand. The peaches sit at her left hand inside the circle of salt (she'll vacuum it tomorrow if we don't all die, it's fine), the Bible at her right. The shift, which had felt natural enough in her dream, is profoundly uncomfortable. ]

Louise Monroe. I conjure thee to speak to me.

WEDNESDAY

[facultwist]

[rednails]

[Tuesday is too emotionally fraught for her. Mariko needs to cope with this new reality, make sense of it. Cry and scream and try to figure it out-- she's not even in a position to talk to Dorothy, as she's been trying to do.

Wednesday she's ready. She's gathered up all the candles she can find, setting them up around her in the Skullbriar classroom. It's, like, way too many candles-- surely a sight to behold. The whole scene overlaps with a recent dream of hers, but she's got other things on her mind right now. Cupping her hands around a candle, tears at her eyes, she asks;]

Dorothy? Anthy? Can... you can hear me right now, can't you?

[She needs to clear her head later on, whatever happens, so she'll be walking listlessly by the clock tower. This feels familiar in a way that she can't place, that might have something to do with whatever life she's been dreaming of. Her hair whips in the wind and she looks pretty lost in her thoughts. Could be a postcard memory in another world.

Later still, you can find her in the kitchen, tapping the edge of the can of coffee grounds with a vexed look on her face.]

Did we really need-- Ugh!

THURSDAY

[facultwist]

PUNISHMENT(?)

[facultwist]

[ In the morning on Thursday, the loudspeaker cracks on when absolutely not expected. ]

Okay, I thought we were past this? Please come to the library, we need to have a little meeting.

[ Inside the library, near the entrance is Hawke, currently just sort of. Floating in place. Nearby is the entrance to the Monroe Collection, the door to which is currently… open, actually! Perhaps the arrow embedded in the door controls might have something to do with it. Especially in conjunction with the bow near Hawke. ]

Okay, so before anyone gets mad about it, I’m not killing her. But you all need a reminder that property damage isn’t okay! Now I have to make Isabella get a degree in electrical engineering to fix this.

[ A sigh. ]

Because she managed a damn good shot with that bow, all Hawke is getting is a few hours in the air to reflect on her work. But please, don’t get any ideas.

[ congrats, you have a new little area! it's a treat, not a trick! ... sorry to hawke though. ]

[shellhawked]

[True to the Interim Headmistress's word, Hawke drops to the ground after a few hours dangling in air jail. She lands hard on her ass with a sharp hiss of pain, one hand immediately going to her lower back. The experience of being scruffed by an invisible presence like a misbehaving puppy had lost it's whimsy very quickly and she had, unfortunately, had nothing but time to reflect on her work.

She'd done a good thing. A helpful thing, for the group. Who knows when they would have found the stupid card to open the stupid electronic lock? Taking it out was quicker, more direct...it made her feel like she'd taken action for the first time in a while. She should feel good about it, when the door to the Monroe Collection had been mostly forgotten during the last few weeks and could hold answers they need.

Then why doesn't she?

It takes a few minutes for her legs to wake up from disuse and, when she grabs her bow and slowly pushes herself to her feet it feels like she's a newborn deer on slightly shaking knees. Hawke glances toward the area she'd unlocked with her lack of impulse control and thinks about how she should go in. Even if what she finds overlaps with things already discovered a second set of eyes never hurts. It's important.

She hobbles past it, her back still aching, and sits at a library table that already has her dog-eared copy of "Hard in Hightown" waiting for her. The collection will still be there in a few hours. She just...needs to take a rest, that's all. Just a little tired.

Much later, edging toward lights out, she's moved from the library to the hall just outside room A-3. The door is open and shows her space has been somewhat tidied while Varric gnaws on a bone toy while Chu-chu bathes himself on the dog's back. Hawke is sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, one leg pulled to her chest while she slowly turns the pages of her book. Every few pages her head starts to droop before she jerks back up, blinking hard and refocusing.

Someone might want to bully her before she breaks another rule today.]