Play@YSDC

9pm 31st October 1986
Northfield, Indiana

The Barnaker house sits on the edge of town, still within fifteen minutes of the kids' homes (Northfield isn't that big of a town). This is the old part, the lots are a bit bigger, houses sparser than the estates where most people live. Things look a bit more rundown than the rest of town, there's not many streetlights and most of them aren't even working, those that are seem dim and give little useful light.

It's getting late and the air has taken on a definite chill. The busy streets of earlier, with laughing children trick-or-treating in cute homemade outfits or garish plastic masks, have given way to the occasional huddle of surly teenagers in lacklustre or completely absent costumes, demanding treats with a mixture of saccharine sweetness and barely concealed menace. In this part of town there are few pumpkins inviting in the reveller. In those houses where the lights are still on people keep to themselves, eyeing visitors suspiciously from drawn curtains.

There's a smell of burning leaves mingling with the acrid scent of creosote and unseasoned wood from distant bonfires. Far away there's the occasional pop of fireworks but here the streets are silent and sullen. Although the moon is full it's barely visible behind the ominous looking dark clouds hanging heavily on the horizon.

Why don't you all describe how your characters got here tonight, what excuses they used, and what they're wearing for a Halloween costume. It's an excuse for a bit of banter and roleplaying between your characters before we get to the house. The four of Kyle, Harry, Shirley, and Darren will meet up but you're expecting more, maybe they're late, maybe they had second thoughts.

Can you also give me Notice Stuff Rolls.

Kyle asked his mothers if he could go with the others to get some candies at halloween and then sleep with Harry; that was literally true, but not in the sense that his mother was thinking, so Kyle was feeling some remorses. His mothers gived him a big hug and he went to Harry's house in his costume of ghost and then joined the others.
At the beggining he was full of confidence and excited with the prospect of spending the night outside, but as soon as he started to see "this" part of the city, his confidence melted...

Nottice stuff: 40%

Harry got here by bicycle, having told his parents that there was an all-night event at the planetarium that he really want to see. He is wearing his Ghostbusters costume with the nametag "Spengler" (after Egon Spengler, the genius scientist member of the team), along with props of a proton pack backpack with attached ghost zapper, PKE meter, and ghost trap. While the movie was two years old, the premiere last month of the cartoon The Real Ghostbusters had revived its popularity and meant there were plenty of costumes. He points the PKE meter at Kyle in his ghost costume and presses the switch that causes the small front arms to swing out to the sides and the lights to flash. "I'm detecting some definite ectoplasmic activity," he says. Then he detects something else.

Notice stuff roll (40% skill):
d%

Pulling her swan cape closer to her body to protect her from the chilly wind, Shirley looks up towards the dark clouds as she leans her bike against the dilapidated fence of the Barnaker property. Newly promoted to Cadette, her parents didn't bat an eye when she informed them that she'll be spending Halloween night at a horror movie marathon with the other older scouts. Getting out of that commitment was a little more difficult, but faking feeling unwell was enough to make the other girls believe she needed to go home.

She just couldn't pass up on Roger Simmons' challenge!

"And that's the only ghost we'll see tonight," she calls to the other boys when she sees Harry point his equipment at Kyle. "I didn't even know people were afraid of this place. I've heard some very ridiculous stories about it and they're all nonsense."

Notice Stuff (60%):
d%

"You've got that right!" says Harry. "It was just a joke, Kyle, because you're wearing a ghost costume."

As they gather underneath one of the few working streetlights a thin rain begins to fall, the drizzle lit up as it passes the dim bulb. Shirley and Harry notice there's a poster crudely taped to the pole. It is a 'Missing' poster obviously made in the print shop in town. On it is a blurry photograph of a Scottish terrier which you both recognise as Rex, beloved pet of Mrs Ward, a kindly old lady who lives in this part of town in one of the bigger houses.

Beneath the soggy paper Harry sees the remains of several more notices. Peeling off Mrs Ward's poster, he finds several more 'Missing' posters for cats and dogs. They seem to go back years and the oldest ones are completely illegible.

Just waiting for BoyBlunder78

"Look what I found!" says Harry, pointing out the underlying posters. "A lot of pets are going missing. Maybe someone's doing experiments on them."

"Maybe the house ate them!" Shirley says with a giggle as she pulls her hood further up her head to protect herself from the light rain. "I think I've heard that around a campfire once."

The girl looks around for some large tree or some other type of cover, her paper feathers will not last long if they get too wet.

Away down the dark street there is the sound of jogging footsteps approaching.
Something loathsome to behold and slightly noisome to sniff scurries out of the darkness and comes to a halt behind the group, bent over and panting hard.
“Sorry I’m late.... dogs got out.”



It’s Louis. His face and hair are thickly streaked with some black substance; he’s wearing a black bin liner over his usual camouflage- clothes and a large pair of yellow Marigold rubber gloves. In his hand is a makeshift bamboo trident topped with strands of ivy. He steps up to look at the posters and shrugs.

"Coyotes got em."

"Hi Louis, I was thinking you couldn't make it. How do you know it is coyotes and not something else?"
Kyle feels relieved with Louis explanation but Harry's was much more exciting...

“Stands to reason doesn’t it? Coyotes got at our chickens last week...” Louis tails off as he realises these are rather different circumstances.
“Sasquatch?” He ventures.

Darren walks down the street in full costume, swinging his bat as he goes, he seems the group outside the house. "Sorry im late, i had to bribe my little brother with my Optimus Prine and Soundwave toys to keep quiet about tonight." He looks at the rag tag group infant of him, Swans, ghost busters, ghost and....something. Possibly the oddest team he's been apart of. He looks up at the dark looming house infront of him."Dunk 'the chunk' from my lil league team neighbours cousin went missing in there." He tells the group. She was missing for weeks, till the neighbours complained about all the rats suddenly appearing. Pest control went into the house into the cellar and heard a loud squeaking, and in a corner saw a huge pile of giant rats.As they shined their torches over them they caught a glint of something. Walking over they could see tattered pieces of fabric underneath the swarm. They kicked them away and recoiled, screaming in horror. Underneath the rats was a half eaten body of a kid. The glint they caught was the bones of the hand, picked clean of all the skin!"
1d100
Notice stuff %40

Shirley dashes ahead for the cover of one of the few trees lining the street, trying to protect her beautiful handmade costume from the worsening rain. She looks down the street and disappointedly sees that there are few other sources of cover on the sidewalk ahead, she's going to get wet.

The tree she's sheltering under stands in the grounds of a vacant lot, overhanging the sidewalk. The lot itself is just a low wire fence surrounding scrubland and bushes. There's no house or other buildings. But beyond this plot she sees the towering hulk of the Barnaker House itself, standing alone amongst a cluster of more empty sites on the edge of town, dominating the otherwise abandoned neighbourhood. Surrounded by a rusted wrought-iron fence.

From this distance not much more can be made out, except that further down the road, nearer the house, there's a figure standing hunched in the rain. You can't see who its is through the rain but the way he moves and struts strongly suggests it is Roger.

"That would be something, if we could find a sasquatch!" says Harry. "Come on, let's get inside." He heads toward the house.

“W wait. I’m not sure it’s a good idea after all.” Louis looks hard at Darren,
“Is that really true?” He asks fearfully. “That’s like what Lyle told me but I thought he was just pulling my leg.” He rubs his face, smearing the black streaks even more. Strangely the rain has no affect on them.
“What are you meant to be, anyway?”

"A sasquatch? I should have bring my dad camera! We go now? I'm getting all wet inside this sheet"- says Kyle

aine wrote: ↑Fri Oct 07, 2022 5:55 am “W wait. I’m not sure it’s a good idea after all.” Louis looks hard at Darren,
“Is that really true?” He asks fearfully. “That’s like what Lyle told me but I thought he was just pulling my leg.” He rubs his face, smearing the black streaks even more. Strangely the rain has no affect on them.
“What are you meant to be, anyway?”

He swore on his moms life!! Said that they left the state not long after!! What ya mean?" He stares down at Louis."Aint you seen a skeleton before?" He pulls the mask.down over his face. " What you meant bo be?"

"Just checking!" Louis grins at Darren and looks at his outfit appreciatively. Then he strikes a pose and roars, thrusting the trident into the night sky,
"I am the Creature from the Black Lagoon!' He looks down at his hands, "I was hoping to get a pair of black rubber gloves but had to make do with these yellow ones instead."

"Are y'all done out there?" Shirley shouts at the boys from her cover, "I think I see Roger down the road!".

The wind and rain have mostly made their conversation hard to understand, but she is not one to give such stories much thought anyway. To her, the old Barnaker House is just that, an old house, and there are plenty more reasonable reasons for the strange events happening around it.

aine wrote: ↑Fri Oct 07, 2022 6:00 pm
"Just checking!" Louis grins at Darren and looks at his outfit appreciatively. Then he strikes a pose and roars, thrusting the trident into the night sky,
"I am the Creature from the Black Lagoon!' He looks down at his hands, "I was hoping to get a pair of black rubber gloves but had to make do with these yellow ones instead."

"Ha ha, more like Aquaman with those yellow gloves! But does your trident does look cool." Darrenlooks over at Shirley looking down the road, seeing the shape all laughter leaves his face and he stands straighter, squaring his shoulders. " Here comes the jerk."

Harry marches up the road towards the house and eventually the hunched figure looks up and notices him and the others trailing behind. 'Come on you sissies!' he shouts down the street. 'I ain't standing out here all night holding my dick.' Yep, it's definitely Roger. He straightens up and starts drumming on the fence with something metallic, making a repetitive clanking noise that becomes increasingly irritating the longer he does it. It's not really clear if Roger is wearing a costume, he's dressed in double denim and doesn't seem to have anything on under his battered blue denim jacket which perfectly complements his mullet to add that certain air of redneck menace.



You all know Roger Simmons. he's a bully, pure and simple. If he has any redeeming features none of you know what they are. He's cruel and vindictive, seeming to take delight in picking on the weakest kids in Northfield but also with an unnerving ability to find people's weak spots and insecurities and stick the metaphorical knife in. The only person in Northfield worse than Roger is Ace Simmons, his older brother. Ace is just out of juvie where he spent six months for beating some guy half to death, at least, that's what they say. Where Roger is a bully, Ace is a psychopath. At least Roger has his own sort of code of honour, however twisted and perverse it is. You kind of believe him that if you successfully complete his dare he'll leave you alone, at least for a while, he said it in front of everyone in school and he won't want to lose face.

-----

The grounds of the Barnaker House are enclosed by a four-foot high wrought iron gate, rusted and peeling, with battered 'No Trespassing' signs posted at intervals along its length. The fence is topped by sharp spikes that look like they could do some serious damage if anyone fell on them. It's difficult to make out anything within the yard due to the overgrown but patchy and brown shrubs and bushes that line the fence on the inside. Roger is leaning on a solid looking gate that seems to block a gravelly driveway while there's another pedestrian gate in the fence a little nearer Harry.



Rising in the centre of the grounds, the Barnaker House itself is clearly in poor condition. The paint is peeling or completely stripped off, and while the slate roof is in better shape there are plenty of loose and missing slates. All of the windows are shuttered against the elements (and stone-throwing vandals) and these are crudely secured with boards nailed across the outside. Through a couple of gaps in the weathered shutters, a few dim and flickering lights can be seen. From the street Harry can see a porch out the front of the house and the front door beyond that.

In the twilight, Harry and Shirley can just make out a few bats fluttering in and out of the eaves of one corner of the house, silhouetted against the few shards of moonlight. The broiling mass of flittering shapes seems to thicken as the sky darkens.

The characters are on the sidewalk at the top right of the map. Roger is by the gate to the driveway.

"Let's go in," says Harry, heading for the pedestrian gate. He would much rather be in a house with no actual ghosts in it than out here with the rain and Roger. "I ain't afraid of no ghost. And yes, I know that's a double negative. It's a Ghostbusters reference."

Darren walks up with him to open the gate. "Msybe we should go round back and see if we can see whats there"

Shirley jogs behind Harry trying to push through the closet gate in an attempted to reach the porch and keep her costume from becoming soaking wet.

"More overgrown weeds, that's what you're gonna find," she tells Darren being a little short with him.

"See! We're going inside, Roger , just like we agreed."

Darren looks down as this damp off white blur pushes past, shrugging his shoulders. Walking behind them he goes to try and peer in through the windows.

Before anyone can open the smaller pedestrian gate, Roger sidles in front of it and hold his hand over the latch firmly. Beneath his grip everyone can now see there's a padlock on the gate. 'Let's get a look at you bunch of losers,' he sneers. He holds out his finger and starts counting them, 'One, two, three, three and a half for a girl,' his brow furrows at three like he's struggling to count, 'Looks like half wimped out before they even got here. Bunch of chickens, I'm gonna get em back in school next week, I'm gonna get em good.' He then looks them all up and down, evidently studying their costumes, 'Hey 'Shirley Two Shoes', your feathers are getting wet,' and he pulls off one of Shirley's delicate paper feathers and scrunches it up into a soggy ball, flicking it at her. Then he turns with a nasty laugh to look at Louis, 'Geez Louise, you look like a bag lady, you borrow that outfit from your momma?'

While this exchange is going on Darren tries to get a look at the house windows from his position outside the fence. But there's not much he can see at this distance except those occasional flickers of light. Then he feels a pull at his elbow. As he's turning round to see what it is, he notices Roger point behind him and exclaim, 'Hah, that's another half, makes four in all.'


And standing behind him is his little brother Ian, dressed in red pyjamas with a plastic spiderman mask pushed onto the top of his head, carrying a bright orange plastic bucket shaped like a pumpkin. 'Hey, what are you doing here?,' he asks. 'I thought we were going trick-or-treating? No one lives in the old Barnaker House, silly.'

“Oh man, I knew this was a bad idea.” Louis mutters.
“Daz, maybe we should take Ian home first.” He says hopefully.

Darren looks st Louis Then turns to Roger "NO! hei s not doing this, he's too young and not part of this!! Turning to Ian I told you to stay home, I gave you my two fave toys to stay in. I'll make ut up to you next year, promise. Mom and dad will kill me if your out at this time...in this weather! C'mon I'mtaking you home!" Grabbing Ian by the shoulder he goes to take him away.

'Bwok, bwok-bwok-bwok,' goes Roger, flapping his arms. 'Looks like we got ourselves our first chicken.' He draws the last word out menacingly. 'I should have known you'd be the first to lame out Pickett, you always were a loser. Bringing your little brother as an excuse, pathetic.'

"hes not supposed to be here!! Im gonna take him home and be right back!"Darren says through gritted teeth, clenching his fists

'Aw come on Darren, let me hang out with you,' pleads Ian. 'Are you going in the Barnaker House? I wanna look inside, come on Darren.'

'Hah, the baby's got more balls than you Darren, you only got that one ball,' spits Roger. He turns away in disgust, 'Such a doofus.'

Darren stares angrily at the back of Rogers head. Fighting back the urge to swing 'thunder' and smash it like an overripe pumpkin. Averting his gaze to look at Ian "Right you little dork. Looks like your staying.But you stay close to me, you dont wander off,you DO NOT leave my side! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!" Placing my hands on his shoulders, repeating myself till ian acknowledges me, nodding his head vigorously.

Shirley swats at the spot Roger plucked one of her feathers. "Watch your hands! though her warning holds no bite, especially after having to dodge the ball of paper aimed at her face. "And who are you calling half? I'll have you know I've camped in worse places than this."

The drenched swan stands with her hands on her hips, but can't channel any of the sassiness of her costume-sake.

"It's not a big deal, Darren," she tells the boy when his little brother shows up, we'll be home before your parents get up in the morning.

Just staring past Shirley the rain dripping off his mask running down his face.Keeping his brother behind him he asks in a flat tone, " Are we getting this done or what?"

Roger grips the top of the gate and jumps up to land with one foot on the top of the rusted metal, just avoiding the sharp spikes. Then he leaps off the other side to land confidently in the yard. He looks over his shoulder, smirking at you through the fence.

'Come on you dweebs, I'm not hanging around.'

Darren holds his brothers hand, letting everyone go before them. All thoughts of how this night could've been an6 fun all gone from.his head.

As he trails past Darren and Ian through the pedestrian gate, Louis says,
“Don’t worry, Daz. I bet we’ll be outta there in no time; hey, what’s the betting the front door is locked!” He ruffles Ian’s wet hair and pulls the lad’s hood up.
“Come on, let’s get it over with.” He goes across the lawn to join Roger.

Seeing the locked gate Darren offers to help folk over it.

"Looks like theres another gate there on the driveway maybe that's open? If not maybe a loose fence panel around the garden.Dont fancy trying to loft you all over this gate and maybe ruin your costunes." He looks at Shirley whe he says the last part.

Darren walks down past the smaller gate and tries the large double gates across the driveway. He gives them a rattle but they seem to be locked. Looking closer he can see a large keyhole in the middle of the gate, despite being pretty rusted when he gives it a shove there is no give, the mechanism still seems to be good.

'Sheesh, you babies can't even make it into the yard,' shouts Roger.

It'd be a hard Fix Stuff roll to get that double gate open. That means you have to roll under half your Fix Stuff score.

Darren scans the sidewalk up and down the street until he sees a broken car aerial and uses it to try and pick the gate lock. He wiggles it about to try and engage the mechanism and turn it but he can't get any purchase.

Anyone walking past the pedestrian gate give me a Notice Stuff roll

"It might be too late for that," Shirley tells Darren when he looks at her after mentioning not getting their costumes ruined. She watches him fumble with the lock on the driveway gate, before turning her attention to the pedestrian gate next to her, taking another look at it.

Notice Stuff (60%):
d%

Shirley's not wrong about her costume which has started to resemble a bizarre papier-mâché sculpture as the rain continues to run down and soak in to the paper feathers. She looks at the padlock on the pedestrian gate and twists it to get a look at the keyhole. As she does so the shackle shears and snaps off, leaving her holding the body of the padlock itself. She slides the shackle out of the latch and opens the gate.


'Hey, how come you couldn't do that Darren?' asks Ian. Roger just laughs, hard enough he starts wheezing and slapping his thigh.

-----

The others follow Shirley into the grounds. Standing on the path they observe the front of the yard. The grass is over two feet high in places, and thoroughly overgrown with weeds and wild bushes, brown and brittle in the October night air. The driveway consists of packed gravel, and has nearly vanished beneath the overgrown lawn, while the path is composed of broken, irregularly tilting slate which is also being slowly consumed by the overgrowth. There are several sickly trees in the yard, bare of leaves due to the season. Despite the reputation of the Barnaker House as a graveyard for baseballs, kites, and frisbees, there are none to be seen anywhere on the lawn or in the trees. The rear of the grounds is not visible from this position in front of the house.

At the end of the path is the front porch, peeling and rotted wood draped in a shroud of dead leaves, overgrown on two sides with sickly, now leafless, shrubs. There's a solid looking wooden door, bare wood with only very occasional patches of flaking green paint. Small rectangles of what was once glass panes are now smashed but reveal occasional glimpses of that dim, flickering light.

We don't need that Notice Stuff now that Shirley has bust the lock but if anyone wants to roll Nature about the garden...

1d100

Darren looks crestfallen at his brother and just shrugs."C'mon you little dweeb."

All Harry knows is that the plants use photosynthesis to convert carbon dioxide to oxygen. Beyond that, he doesn't really need to know anything else about them.

Nature roll (10% base skill) in the garden:
d%

"We will have to stay all night with him? This will be a very long night..."- says Kyle feeling miserable.

Even though she was in quite a hurry to reach the covered porch, Shirley can't help but take in the overgrown vegetation surrounding them. It was like nature was claiming back the grounds, and in that way, it was quite pretty.

Nature (80%):
d%

Louis follows the others into the yard. He prods the undergrowth with his trident.
“It’s like a jungle sometimes, makes me wonder how I keep from going under, eh huh huh huh.” He says looking around.

Nature 60. Roll:54

Holding onto. Ian's hand Darren follows everyone upto the porch. Looking at the garden, just raining what a mess.

'Hey Darren, what's inside? Will there be candy?

Roger loiters around the porch, kicking at a plank of blackened railing until it eventually splinters and breaks.

Looking down at his brother, "Don't think so squirt, but you mever know." He says, no trace of a smile in his face.

"If there is, it's probably too old to eat," says Harry, heading for the front door. "Well, maybe not if there are Hostess Twinkies."

“Ur guys, just watch yourself- I just saw some poison ivy and there’s plenty of nettles and brambles. They’re difficult to see in the dark.” Louis points at the undergrowth.
“Walk this way and I’ll flatten the path.” He beats at the weeds with his trident towards the porch.

Darren holds his brother close as he follows the beaten bath around the poison ivy

Pointing at you all tiptoeing around the poison ivy and other nasty plants, Roger laughs and sneers. 'How're you dorks going to stand the Barnaker House if you're wiggin out over a few plants?'

-----

Shirley is the first to climb onto the steps of the front porch, closely followed by Harry. Although they seem sturdy enough, each step onto the slippery wood and blanket of mulched leaves is accompanied by a slight settling of the plank and a disconcerting creak. Shirley even thinks she hears something in the dank brown bushes that scrabble up the sides of the veranda, a sort of scuffling or rustling. The two of them trek onto the porch itself, at least they're mostly protected from the rain, although water does stream through a few cracks and gaps in the rotting wooden canopy.

The bare wood front door is ahead of them. Once it was painted green but now there is little but a few peeling scraps of that paint remaining. The smashed glass panels are too small to get much of a look inside but there's definitely a flickering light visible.

Rather than joining them on the porch, Roger is standing in the rain by the surrounding wooden railing. The water is pouring down his face and his hair is lankly clinging to his skin. He seems to have a folding knife in his hands and he's scratching something into the wood. 'You going in or what?'

FYI, you can explore the grounds if you'd like, but you don't have to and can try and get right in the house.

Harry tries the front door to see if it's locked.

Darren walks along the porch trying to look into any windows, and walk around the side of the house, keeping Ian close behind him.

Kyle will walk to the side opposite of Daren to see if he finds any window or other door.

"Poison ivy is way nastier than this old house!" Shirley can't help but justify their caution. "What's with the light? I thought this place was abandoned," she asks no one in particular. Spending the night in an empty and dilapidated place was one thing, but she was not about to break in if someone lived here.

Louis stands at the bottom of the steps.
“Is there someone in there already? I thought I saw some lights.” He says nervously.

“Guys, what’s the deal? Do we have to go in?” He’s trying to work out if it would be better or worse if Roger joins them and he glared at the older boy.

Darren and Ian walk along the creaking deck trying to peer through the windows but the house is pitch black inside. They climb back down the steps and edge round the house to look at the right hand side. There's not much to see in the garden, just the overgrown lawn encroaching on the gravel drive. Looking through the windows doesn't reveal anything new, but every now and again Darren thinks he might catch the slightest flicker of light. But he's not sure. At the rear he can see a dark pool, presumably an old pond. 'This is boring Darren,' says Ian. 'I wanna go inside.'

-----

Round the left side of the house, Kyle sees a patch of cracked and crumbling concrete in the middle of the long grass. There's some sort of wooden cover in the centre. Walking around the side of the house he shines his flashlight through the cracks in the boarded up windows, most of which have long been smashed. In one room he can just about make out a few old chairs and in another a couch and some shelving. Beyond the house towards the back of the yard is a crooked looking shed. And at the rear of the house itself is a smaller porch with a door, but it has been boarded up.

-----

Harry tries the handle to the front door. It turns but the door doesn't open. It seems to be stuck.

-----

At Shirley and Louis's comments about the lights, Roger sniggers and says, 'Of course there's lights you absolute morons. There's no electricity so I lit some candles for you so you wouldn't get all scared and run away like babies. Sheesh, what a bunch of lamebrains.' Then he stares back at Louis, 'And little baby Louis doesn't have to come in if he's scared. But I'll make you pay for it when we're back in school next week. Your choice, dickwad.'

It certainly seemed like the moment you mentioned the lights they went out. They probably just blew out. The wind...

Notice stuff (60%):
d%

"Aren't you so nice." It's hard to tell if Shirley's compliment is genuine of full of sarcasm as she catches the flicker of the light out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey, Darren, will ya get this door open? Looks like it's stuck and I had enough of this rain, she calls after the other boy once Harry tries to open it.

"Soon." Darren tells his brother. Ijust wanna check the shed out first. Might be some cool stuff in there, or somethi g we can uae to get in the place."

"There's probably a back door," says Harry. "It might be easier to get in that way. Or maybe there's something in the back we could use to get this door open."

"There is a broken window here! We can try to enter by this place!"- shouts Kyle.

Notice stuff:60 roll:39

Louis peers through the gaps in the boards,
“Er, Roger your candles have just blown out. Now they are as dim as you.” He finishes under his breath.
The shed sounds interesting though, always a scavenger he is drawn to it like a moth to a light.
“Yeah, let’s check out the shed, we might find some useful stuff.”

Darren follows Louis hoping to find something for ian something cool, something he could maybe use to scare off anything like rats that ciuld be in the house. Something to make him feel brave

Louis and Darren (with Ian trailing behind) go to look at the shed. It's listing badly, wooden walls rotted, tar paper roof peeling. The door hangs half off its hinges and pulling it aside they see stained workbenches cluttered with the detritus of years. Rusty tools of various sizes, pots and cans. A length of chain. Hedge-trimming shears and a manual lawnmower.

In the corners of the shed are the unmistakable signs of rat droppings. Strangely, given how long this place has been abandoned, there are no signs of any of the other animal you might expect, chipmunks, rabbits, skunks, and so on.

Why don't you tell me what you're each looking for and then roll Luck

"I'd rather not have to pick glass out of y'all skin." Shirley walks over to the edge of the porch, bending over the rail to respond to Kyle. "So let's see we can get in through one of the doors. How did you even get in, Roger?" she asks, turning around to get back under the semi-dry cover.

Mephistophilis wrote: ↑Thu Oct 13, 2022 9:59 pm Louis and Darren (with Ian trailing behind) go to look at the shed. It's listing badly, wooden walls rotted, tar paper roof peeling. The door hangs half off its hinges and pulling it aside they see stained workbenches cluttered with the detritus of years. Rusty tools of various sizes, pots and cans. A length of chain. Hedge-trimming shears and a manual lawnmower.

In the corners of the shed are the unmistakable signs of rat droppings. Strangely, given how long this place has been abandoned, there are no signs of any of the other animal you might expect, chipmunks, rabbits, skunks, and so on.

Why don't you tell me what you're each looking for and then roll Luck

I'm looking for a metal bar, something that could be used like a club.

Stepping inside the shed and poking around Darren finds a crowbar leaning up against a corner. It's heavy, probably iron, and has a sort of rounded knob at one end and then a tapering point at the other.

You don't really get extreme successes with Luck rolls but I'll see what I can do...

How's that - it can be wielded two handed for 1d6 damage

Roger has already started to disappear around the side of the house but he shouts behind him, 'I just pushed open the door because I'm not a sissy little weakling like Smarty-Pants Enslin'

"I'm not a sissy little weakling," says Harry, following. "Give me a lever and a place to stand, and I could move the world. Anyway, we only have your word that you just pushed open the door. You'd have to show us before we could believe you."

LiviaBlue wrote: ↑Thu Oct 13, 2022 10:02 pm

"I'd rather not have to pick glass out of y'all skin." Shirley walks over to the edge of the porch, bending over the rail to respond to Kyle. "So let's see we can get in through one of the doors. How did you even get in, Roger?" she asks, turning around to get back under the semi-dry cover.

"Your probably right Shirley. Well, Roger Why don't you push again the door so we may enter?"
Being all wet is making Kyle angry, and since he is with his friends he is getting bolder; he would never speak this way to Roger in a normal day.

“Nice find, Daz!” Louis whistles as Darren pulls out the crowbar.
“Come on, we can open the door or a window with that.”

Darren twirls the crowbar. He looks at Ian and hands him 'Thunder' "Here, you take this, should help you keep slimer away." Looking at Louis "Right let's go break stuff!" And heads to the back of the house.

While Darren, Louis, and Ian have been in the shed, Roger has walked up behind them. As they come back to the door they can see him carrying a large paper wasp nest. Before anyone can act he uses both hands to smash it on the threshold. 'Stupid wasps.' He takes a screwdriver and pokes at the white, bloated larvae within, pausing to pop them, slowly, as he waits for Louis to finish looking around the shed. 'Only a moron would think any of the crap in here is worth anything.'

Once Louis is finished, Roger finds the queen and, after pausing for a moment to make sure he has an audience, he smashes her with screwdriver’s handle. 'You jerks ready to quit wastin’ my time?'

Shirley and Harry - if you want to wind up Roger enough to open the door each roll Taunt

Louis - you can still roll Luck to see if there's something useful in the shed - tell me what you're after.

Darren and Louis - there's something particularly nasty about the way Roger splats that wasp, a real malevolence. Roll Sanity 0/1 (0 loss for a pass, 1 loss for a failure).

"Aw, he can't open it," says Harry. "He's all talk and no action."

Taunt roll (5% skill) to get Roger to open the door:
d%

Not thinking she can get Roger to help out, Shirley calls out again when she sees Darren swing his newly found toy just outside the shed.

"How about we try to use that to get the door unstuck?" she reaches over the rails again to get a better look at that side of the property where the boys are.

Hanging off the porch railings, Shirley can see the shed and Roger stood outside it poking a smashed wasp's nest. The patch of cracked and crumbling concrete towards the edge of the grounds is also visible. There's a sort of hatch or wooden cover in the middle of the concrete.

"Now that's a good lever," says Harry when he sees Darren with the crowbar. "It should be able to get the door open with no problem."

Darren walks to door and attempts to pry it open.

Sanity 65 roll: 63. Luck 65 roll:12 (So sorry: I wrote all this out yesterday but it didn’t post for some reason

Louis isn’t too fazed by the pointless destruction of the wasps; he eats squirrels for tea for starters, but he does swear to revenge their deaths on Roger. Somehow.
He looks around the shed for something to light up, he can never afford the batteries to run his own torch.

Poking around in the shed, Louis finds a rusty can. Shaking it there's something sloshing about in there. He unscrews the cap and gives it a sniff. Smells like kerosene. Picking up an old pickaxe handle and some greasy rags he reckons he could make a crude torch of sorts, if he had any matches to light it.

-----

Returning to the front porch, Darren inserts the pointed end of the crowbar into the doorframe. It slips between the frame and the door itself without any difficulty and he pulls on the bar against the resistance. For a moment there's a disconcerting cracking sound and he thinks the frame might splinter and come off but then the door shifts, the hinges screeching in protest, and it swings open releasing an odd, unpleasant smell - acrid, decaying, stuffy. 'Nice one Darren, can we go inside now? I'm all wet,' whines Ian.

The place is pitch black, the slightest illumination coming from the half-covered moon peaking through the drizzle. There's a couple of fat candles melted into the floor in the entrance hall, but they've gone out and faint trails of smoke indicate they were recently alight. A long and narrow hallway extends ahead, with stairs going upwards on one side. There's little furniture except for a few iron plant stands holding curiously robust ferns and other ornamental plants that spill out of their pots and seem to give rise to that faint scent of decaying vegetable matter. The only other furnishing is a grandfather clock which stands against the east wall.

There are two doors off to the right and two off to the left. At the end of the hallway is the back door leading onto the back porch.

-----


Seeing Darren open the door, Roger pushes past him to the inside. 'About time, Pickett.' He takes out a Zippo and lights the candles again. They burn with a low, unimpressive flame, and issue occasional wisps of acrid smoke.

Harry wanders over to the first door on the right and tries it.

"Stay behind me."Darren whispers to Ian as he enters the hallway.

"What are those candles for? Are you trying to start a fire here?"- Asks Kyle nervous.

Shirley walks inside quickly, without much hesitation, digging through her pack for her flashlight. "I wish we could have a nice campfire," she says wistfully at Kyle's comment, "I, too, am soaked to the bone," she offers Ian a sympathetic smile as she moves down the hallway reaching for the first door on the left, liking Harry's initiative.

"Maybe we can find an old stove or something."

Louis brings up the rear, carrying his can of slosh and makeshift torch; the candles would light it he thinks. And then he wonders how Roger got in to light the candles the first time round...
“Shall we set up camp in one of these first rooms and wait it out?”

'Why am I lighting candles? Because it's dark in here dipwad,' Roger hollers at Kyle.

Once they've all entered the house, Roger takes an old fashioned key out of his pocket and locks the door, returning the key to his pocket. 'Now nobody's leaving until they have proved they’re not scaredycats, or it's dawn. Whatever comes first.' He gives a little cackle. 'You want the key and you even think about trying to get it off me - you know my brother Ace, well he'll come looking for you and show what it really means to get beaten up - you get me? To make things interesting there's another key I hid somewhere in the house - good luck finding that losers.'

-----

Harry finds a sliding door and drags it open, the rail screaming like it's in pain. Flashing his light inside he catches a dark shape on the wooden floor that issues a high-pitched screech and scurries off.

The room is fairly unremarkable. It looks like a a dining room. There is a heavy oval wooden table with a dark stub of candle in the centre. It's surrounded by an incomplete set of wobbly wooden chairs, their stuffing long gnawed at by rats.

Fragments of a large shattered mirror hang from a crooked frame on the south wall and small broken bits of mirrored glass catch the light, scattered throughout the room. In one corner is a battered china cabinet, missing a door, with only a few small fragments inside. Down the walls water trickles in little rivulets and there's a sharp scent to the air, like urine.

-----

Grabbing for the door handle, Shirley finds there is no door, just a wide gap where a door should be. Shining her flashlight into the gloom she finds a large and roomy space but the smell is stagnant, mildewy, like damp furniture and carpet. The flashlight beam catches flecks of dust motes. The room is filled with dusty chairs and couches, all spilling their stuffing. It seems to be some kind of parlour, somewhere guests might once have been entertained.

Against the south wall is a fireplace with a carved wooden mantel; on the mantel someone has placed a battered knapsack and beside it a misshapen candle with faint wisps of smoke puffing from a smouldering red wick. There are the remains of a small fire in the fireplace, made with bits of a broken chair. Judging by the soot and lingering smell, there is something blocking the fireplace flue.

Around the room are the broken remnants of several paintings, little more than broken frames and tattered canvases.

-----

The ceiling here has been damaged by a slow leak, the boards above are likely to be rotten.

These plants are thriving, someone must be caring for them. And even with care the lack of light should be enough to kill most of them off. What's making them grow so luxuriantly?

Roll Sanity - 0/1 loss.

Darren follows Shirley and walks over to the fireplace, using his crowbar to poke around in the grate.

notice stuff 40.
1d100

Harry shines his flashlight into the dining room, but it's still too dark to make out anything. But then something occurs to him about the plants. "These plants should be dead by now," he says. "Without water, they wouldn't survive long. Which means someone must be watering them. Maybe someone's secretly living here."

Hard Notice Stuff roll (40% / 2 = 20% skill) in the Dining Room:
d%
Science Class roll (80% skill) in the Entrance Hall:
d%
Sanity roll (current level 40) about the plants:
d%

"Someone living here?"
Kyle looks immediatly at Roger with suspicion.
"Do you come here often Roger?"

Louis looks at the plants,
“Someone must be living here to look after all these plants.”
He follows Shirley and Darren into the parlour to the fireplace.
“Looks like the flue is blocked, if we clear it we could try lighting a fire. Give it a prod up the chimney, Daz.”

Roger walks up to Kyle, standing with his face close to his, looking him in the eye. 'Try Hard Robard, are you asking me if I break into abandoned houses and water the plants?' He shakes his head in a comically disappointed way, maintaining eye contact uncomfortably long. Then he turns away and wanders into the dining room, lighting the candle on the table with his Zippo.

-----

Looking into the fireplace and poking about in the ashes and charred wood, Darren tries to open the cast-iron damper, but it's tightly closed against the flue and doesn't budge. He inserts the crowbar and tries to pry it open.

Can you roll STR with a bonus 1d10 for the tens since the crowbar is going to help a lot

The way the wood is charred and the ashes have settled suggests this fire was only made in the last few days.

It is the knapsack that catches Shirley's attention and she reaches up to pull it off the mantle to take a look inside.

"Why would someone even want to live in a place like this?" she asks after Harry and Louis share their suspicions.

Spending one night in this house wasn't a big deal, even if she wasn't too keen on Roger just locking the front door; she'll make a note of checking the back one, just in case; but if someone was already in the house that might get her in trouble.

Nature (80%):
d%

"Well, if it wasn't you, someone was definitely here recently. This wood was burned only a few days ago."

The knapsack is battered and looks to have been repaired many times. It's pretty full, like it contained the meagre worldly possessions of someone homeless or itinerant. There's a sewing kit, a few cans of food, a pouch of tobacco and rolling papers, a fairly large pocket knife, two matchboxes (one containing matches but the other with pieces of chalk), a flask of liquid, and a roll of bills.

Unscrewing the flask and giving it a sniff, Shirley gets a harsh whiff of alcoholic spirits, whiskey maybe. And unrolling the bills it's made up of $5 and $1 notes, maybe $100 or more in total.

With nothing of interest in the dining room, Harry crosses the hall to see what the others have found. "I was right," he says unnecessarily. Of course he was right.

Nature roll (10% base skill) in the Parlor:
d%

Louis picks up one of the cans of food.
“Yummy! Anyone see a can opener?”

Nature 60 roll:88

Leaning heavily on the crowbar, eventually the damper starts to make a grinding noise and then pops open with a screech. A noxious cloud of sulphurous black dust whooshes out the chimney to flood the room. There's a nasty musty tang that follows as something thumps out of the flue and bounces into the fireplace and then onto the floor directly in front of Darren.

Ian screams, 'Giant rat, giant rat!' The creature is crouched on the soggy carpet, it has a sharp pointed face and matted grey and white coat. It remains in its rigid posture, not moving. Ian eventually stops screaming. It's not a rat. It's the desiccated corpse of a dead raccoon.

Roll Sanity - 0/1d2 loss for the shock and surprise. Keep a note of any sanity loss on your sheet in the Finished Characters thread.

With the bonus die that's a pass - the 81 becomes a 51

"Of course I was right," says Harry, examining the finds. "Whoever's living here sure isn't poor." Then he sees the dead raccoon and gulps. "Not a rat, a raccoon. Don't worry, it's dead. It won't bite. I'm kind of curious what killed it. Maybe I could dissect it." He examines the dried corpse.

Sanity roll (current level 40) for the dead raccoon:
d%
Sanity loss:
1d6/3

san 64
1d100

After the initial shock, Darren covers his mouth with his sleeve, keeping it together to show Ian andcthe others he's not afraid. He uses the crowbar to poke the body of the raccoon.

Sanity: 55%

Kyle starts shaking when he sees the dead racoon and grabs Henry and shouts:
"We should go away, this is a bad omen! We will all die!"

Sanity roll: 82 sanity loss: 2

“What the- holy crap!”
Louis jumps, drops the can of food in shock and it rolls away under the sofa.
“Jeez, man you really scared me.” He says crossly.
“Kyle, it’s just a dead raccoon, probably fell down the chimney and starved.” He prods the corpse with his foot. “Poor blighter.”

"Relax, Kyle," says Harry. "It's just a dead animal. While many ancient cultures believed that such things were omens, today we know better thanks to modern science."

The racoon is stiff and very dead. There's nothing obviously remarkable about it. Raccoons do fall down chimneys and die now again, this isn't the first you've heard of.

From the dining room comes the sounds of smashing and crashing followed by laughter, 'Hah, yeah, take that you lousy furniture.'

There's something under the sofa. The end of it is poking out, a sort of round loop of metal attached to a shaft that disappears beneath the mouldering upholstery.

The sash window has been nailed shut and there are boards hammered across the interior and exterior of the frame, leaving only a few gaps to see what is left of the grimy and broken glass. The rain outside has picked up and batters against the boards, dripping through the cracks and gaps, running over the sill and down the wall. There's little light from the outside but...was that something moving across the window? Some kind of shadow?

Harry is too distracted to notice anything else.

Notice stuff roll (40% skill) in the parlor:
d%

notice stuff 40
1d100

Darren is too busy calming his little bro down to notice anything.

Wow! Look at all this stuff-" Shirley is pulling a few items out of the pack while looking through it when Darren pops open the damper and fills the room with ash and dust. Trying not to cough a lung out, she stands and walks toward the door dragging the knapsack with her. Being so close to the fireplace, her white feathers are now blackened as well as wet.

"What did you do that for?" she chides the boy finally noticing the dead animal.

Sanity (65):
d%

"I don't know, this doesn't look like the stash of a rich person," she tells Harry looking back into the parlor still wearing a frown on her face.

Notice Stuff (60%):
d%

"Hold this," handing Harry the pack she steps back into the room, kneeling by the couch to pull out the strange metal rod.

Harry takes the pack. "I didn't say he was rich," he says. "I said he wasn't poor. Did you see all the cash in there?"

Louis is crouched down on the floor trying to reach his can of food and doesn’t notice anything else.

Notice stuff: 40 roll:89

From under the sofa, Shirley grabs the metal loop and extracts an iron fireplace poker. It's slightly bent. From the doorway she hears, 'Hey, you don't need that, give it to me.' Roger is standing there, another one of his rancid candles burning in his hand.

That'll do 1d6 damage if used as a weapon.

Harry holds the pack, waiting to see how Shirley will react.

"I think I need it more than you. How am I supposed to defend myself from the racoons?" Shirley whines dramatically. She didn't really care about the poker, but Roger was already a menace without a sharp, metal rod in his hands, and she really didn't like his habit of destroying everything he could reach.

"We should probably just leave that stuff alone. It obviously belongs to someone," she tells Harry standing up and dusting her knees, luckily her stockings were already black. "Let's see if we can find an actually functioning stove, probably in the kitchen. I don't trust this fireplace not to choke us to death."

Harry nods and puts the pack back where it was found. Maybe it would distract Roger. "The kitchen should be right next to the dining room, which is right across the hall," he says.

Darren's knuckles whiten as he grips tighter on the crowbar, watching Roger. Ready to step in if he made a move against Shirley.He believed that as many of them should be armed in case there was some crazy homeless man lurking in the shadows.

Shirley moves out in the hallway, using the poker as a walking stick, she steps by the stairs towards the room that should be the kitchen, the one on the same side as the dining room.

Louis retrieves his can and puts it on the table next to the rucksack. When Roger isn’t looking he takes the pocket knife from the bag. “It’s just for tonight- I’ll put it back in the morning before we go.” He promises to himself and puts it in his pocket under his bin bag outfit.

Roger stares at Shirley for a while, his fist tensing and then relaxing rhythmically. Eventually he just shrugs and says, 'Whatever Shirley Two Shoes,', putting down his candle and stomping back into the hallway. Shirley follows him out and finds him repeatedly kicking the case of the grandfather clock standing against the east wall. His foot splinters the wood revealing the mechanism inside has been gutted by vandals. 'One O'Clock,' crack, 'Two O'Clock,' smash, 'Three O'Clock,' shatter.

Moving past Roger's gleeful cackling, Shirley reaches the rear of the house. The back entrance is empty except for a few coat hooks holding moth-eaten rags and a pair of stiff moldy boots. The back door is boarded up. Using her poker as a walking stick seems to magnify the creaking and flexing of the floor boards.

The plain wooden door to the room beyond the dining room is closed. Shirley puts her hand on the door handle, pausing for a moment as she thinks she hears a noise beyond, rustling or scurrying. She slowly opens the door which moves heavily on its aged hinges. There's a slightly sour and bitter waft of air but in the darkness she's not able to make out much of the room beyond. It certainly looks like a kitchen, with cupboards, maybe an oven. But beyond that she can't see anything with the boarded up windows, rainclouds outside, and no other source of light.

Shirley can hear the wind whistling through a crack somewhere, the rain outside sounds even heavier, pattering against the walls. A sudden gust rattles the shutters and loose boards, the whole house feels like it shifts slightly.

The knife is a 1d2 (no damage bonus/penalty) if used as a weapon

Harry heads for the kitchen too, bringing matches from the pack in case they need to light something with them.

OOC: Are the candles big? Can they be used as a stick?

Kyle picks up the candle Roger has left in the parlour. The flame is low and dim, and there's a nasty acrid smell and quite a sooty black smoke. The candle itself is thick and streaked yellow. The shape is pretty uneven and it looks like it could even be handmade. It's only about six inches long, or less, and Kyle doesn't think it would be useful as any kind of weapon. Not unless he was trying to set fire to someone.

The wax in these candles was probably made from animal fat. It used to be quite common but less so now that mass produced candles are available.

Also test Spooky Stuff and check below if you pass.

You've definitely read about lots of spells from black magic that use candles made from the fat of newborn babies, eugh. Roll Sanity with 0/1 points loss.

Science class: 60%


Spooky stuff: 60%

OOC: Nevermind the first roll, Kyle failed.

Louis looks around and finds he is alone.
“Ur guys?”

"Bring your flashlight over here, Harry," Shirley calls over her shoulder from the doorway of the kitchen.

When he comes close enough to her, she whispers, trying to make sure Roger doesn't hear her. "Looks like we'll have to find that stupid key Roger hid," she points to the boarded-up backdoor, "I don't like being looked in here."

By the time Harry's in the hallway, Roger seems to have disappeared, leaving the splintered remains of the grandfather clock.

Joining Shirley, he sweeps his flashlight beam across the kitchen. In the new light, he and Shirley see that it's a pretty normal looking kitchen with a very dated set of green laminate cupboards and drawers, and a porcelain sink with rusty taps. Dominating the room is a big double-fronted white-enamel gas oven with a four burners on top.

All garish yellow plastic, there's an old-fashioned wall-mounted telephone beside one of the green cupboards.

The wooden worktops are damp and warped. There's not much left on them except a knifeblock with one handle protruding from it, a battered and misshapen colander, and a little pile of what Harry fears are probably rat droppings.

Louis leaves his kerosene, handle and rags by the rucksack and feels his way down the hallway, stepping over the wreckage of the clock front. He’s relieved to see Harry’s flashlight beam and he joins the others in the kitchen.
“Ugh, looks worse than our kitchen.” He whispers. “Still, they might have a can opener.” He goes to try a drawer.

Darren takes Ian's hand and goes to flow the voices and torch lights. "C'mon, best not get separated from the rest. This olace guves me the creeps."

Harry lights the stove. "I'm sure we'll be fine until morning if we can't find it," Harry whispers back. "The only thing here to worry about is Roger. But we'll keep an eye out for the key."

Kyle blow the candle and leave it (since he cannot use it) and join the others.

While Harry fiddles with the stove, Shirley starts looking through the cabinets and draws as well as any other stops where one might hide a key. It was probably not here, but she will at least be able to eliminate the possibility.

"Have you guys ever heard of anyone living here?" she asks the boys just to fill in the silence.

"Supposedly nobody has lived here in twenty years," says Harry. "We know now that's not true. The Briggs family was the last known to live here, and I heard they left after their daughter disappeared. Nobody wanted to live here after that. My mom says they should just tear this place down."

"Dont listen to them Ian
" Darren whispers to Ian trying to reassure him., " there just spooky Halloween stories." He walks towards Shirley "Maybe incan use my crowbar to open the door. I know we are only here for a couple more hours, but I'd rather get outta here sooner. I wanna get my brother home, he's too young for all this bull
rap!"

"If we leave now, Roger will pound us all," says Harry, "unless we play by his rules and find the key. Ian's not much younger than I am, anyway."

"Yeah," Shirley agrees with the thought that whoever was living here was currently gone. "I only want to find the key so we have a backup if Roger gets any stupid ideas to keep us longer. We have an agreement and I intend to keep it, I'm quite tired of dealing with his moods at school."

"I could just break the lock so its open in case we need a quick exit."Darren offers.

“I’m hoping we can turn it on Roger, somehow show him up as the jerk he truly is.” Says Louis as he rattles through a drawer of old utensils.
“But there’s something about this place; why don’t the adults knock it down and build a new place?

Luck 65 roll:40

"A lot of them want that," says Harry. "Beats me why they don't just do it."

Turning to Harry "Listen Spengler he may not be that much younger than you, but hes not supposed to be here and my mom and dad will kill me if anything happens to him. I'll take the pounding from that dweeb because he's my lil bro. AND jes going home!" Darren walks to the back door to try and pry it open.

Harry starts striking the matches with quite a lot of difficulty. Several break and bend as he tries to run them down the lighting strip. A couple flare up before dropping onto the stove top but the burners don't seem to light.

Roll Play with Matches

Shirley pulls on one of the drawers, it's quite tight and requires a real tug to open, springing out...

Roll Luck

Finding nothing of use in the first drawer, Louis opens another one. It's mostly empty apart from some suspicious droppings, a wooden spatula, and a tin opener.

There's an old sash window above the porcelain sink. The external shutters seem to have been nailed closed and there's only about half of the glass panes still in place. Ragged and yellowed curtains are pulled across the window but between the holes in the cloth and gaps in the shutters a few glimpses of the yard can be seen. The sights and sounds of heavy rain are clear, that storm's picking up. There's little light from the moon or stars with the rain clouds outside but...wait, was that something moving across the window? Casting a shadow?

-----

Darren and Ian walk back out into the darkness of the hallway, the back door is barely lit by the flickering candles Roger left by the front door. Darren takes his crowbar and tries to insert it between the door and the frame. It's going to be tricky with all the wood nailed across the doorframe.

Roll a hard STR (so targeting half your STR characteristic)

Another heavy gust of wind hits the house and whistles through the holes in the windows and shutters, the candles flicker even more than usual, and somewhere upstairs a door or window slams. In the hallway, from behind Darren and Ian, something chimes loudly, like a clock. Bong. Bong. Bong.

Str: 55
1d100

Leaning heavily on the crowbar, Darren puts all his strength into trying to leverage open the door. He feels it resisting, it's solidly fastened, and then there's a creak, followed by a crack, and a big chunk of the wooden doorframe flies off over Ian's head.


'Hey, Darren, you nearly hit me. You don't want to have to tell Mom you killed me!'

Darren tries the door and it remains firmly sealed. Then from behind him he hears Bong. Bong. Bong.

Shaking slightly Darren apologises to Ian before looking up as the clock strikes. "Didnt Roger kick the crap outta that clock?" He yells to the others in the kitchen.

Darren walks slowly down the corridor towards the clock. Telling Ian to stay behind him.

As soon as Darren turns around the chimes stop.

Darren feels hair raise on the back of his neck and goosepimples pop up on his arm.

Luck (65):
d%

"Ugg! The gas is probably turned off," Shirley tells Harry when the stove fails to light.

With a final tug the drawer springs open and tips the contents into the floor. Shirley sees a small paring knife, a couple of wooden spoons, assorted stainless steel cutlery, and some broken ceramic egg-cups.

The knife will do 1D3 damage, no damage bonus is added/subtracted

-----

Striding over to the grandfather clock on the east wall of the hallway, Darren peers at the splintered case, the whole front caved in by Roger's boot, and no visible mechanism inside the hollow panelling. Peering at the face he sees it has no hands.


In a whiny voice Ian asks, 'How'd that make a noise Darren?'

Sanity check for hearing the broken clock chime, loss is 0/1d2, 0 loss on a pass, 1d2 loss on a fail.

“Shirley, what sort of poo is this?” Louis points to the droppings in the drawer.
And then something catches his eye and he peers through the cracks in the kitchen window. Through the rain he can see a flickering shadow getting closer.
“Ur, guys, I think someone’s coming, they’re in the back yard.”
And then the click chimes.
He scrabbles for his pocket knife and backs against the wall.
But the clock’s bust! he squeaks.

Notice stuff: 80 roll:22

The sound of rain grows louder, the pitter-patter against the shutters becomes more of a rattle, there's a real breeze now, coming through the cracks and gaps in the boards and windows. Roger's candles are barely alight as they flicker and sputter in the cold wind. The house itself seems to twist and groan. Drips and trickles of water enter through every window, and door, and even the walls. Beyond the shuttered windows there's a flash as bright as daylight followed immediately by the crash of thunder which shakes the whole house. As Louis points outside, everyone in the kitchen notices that something is blocking the bright light from the lightning, something outside the window.

They're most likely rat droppings, squirrel droppings are similar but they don't usually come inside. There are several lumps of elongated olive-shaped droppings, bigger than you'd expect for a mouse, some are grey and dusty, suggesting they're old, but others are dark and shiny like fresh droppings.

Sanity check for hearing the broken clock chime, loss is 0/1d2, 0 loss on a pass, 1d2 loss on a fail.

"Probably rats," Shirley answers with a grimace and she picks up the knife. It was quite nice, maybe she'll do some wood carving while they wait around for the sunrise.

"I'm gonna go see what's in the other room," she announces as she walks back out in the hallway just as the broken clock chimes. The sound makes her jump, causing her to drop her walking-poker with a loud rattle. Instead of opening the door in front of her, she joins Darren and Ian by the clock wanting to investigate it more closely. "That's freaky!"

SAN (65):
d%
SAN loss:
d6/3

d6

San:64
1d100

Just about to answer his brother Darren turns towards the sound with a jump, Grabbing hold of his brother he heads towards the sound. " You ok?"

Harry fiddles with the stove, making sure to turn on the gas as Shirley advised. He almost has it when he notices something. "Hey, there's someone outside the kitchen window!" he hisses. "Yeah, the clock bonging was just mice or something, obviously. It's the only scientific explanation. There's no such thing as ghosts."

Play with Matches roll (5% skill) to light the stove:
d%
Notice Stuff roll (40% skill) in the kitchen:
d%
Sanity roll (current level 39) for the clock:
d%
Too bad we can't spend Luck. That was close!

“Get down, Harry! He might see you through the gaps. Did you see him, he’s huge!” Louis edges along the wall towards the corner so he’s out of sight from the window, keeping his eye on the back door.

San 63 roll:22

Harry ducks out of view of the window, nodding.

'I'm okay Darren,' whispers Ian, the colour returning to his face. 'This house is weird is all.' Darren pokes around inside the splintered and fragmented grandfather clock case. There is absolutely no way this clock made those noises, there's no weights or pendulums, the mechanism behind the clock face is bent and twisted with some of the cogs and levers scattered on the floor of the housing.

-----

After a few minutes of fiddling with the stove and sniffing the air, Harry's pretty sure there's no gas connected. Which would make sense. It'd be dangerous to have an active gas supply to an abandoned house.

-----

There's another flash of lightning followed by a peal of thunder. The light is bright and searing through the cracks in the boards and shutters uninterrupted. Whatever was outside is no longer there.

Sanity: 53%

While he's fiddling with the cooker, Harry glances through the grimy glass door of the oven. Inside it seems to be full of a thick layer of something, ash maybe, with some lumps poking out.

Walking back down the corridor with Ian Darren calls to the rest, " Hey guys, somethjng weird is going on. Did you here that clock? I'venjust been to see it and no way jose could that clock have worked. Its guts are all mangled....no way......no way that clock could work. Its completely F.U.B.A.R'd!"

"Maybe there's another clock somewhere in this house," Shirley tells Darren but even she's not that convinced of the explanation. Prodding the inside of the apparatus one last time, she takes a few steps back, still eyeing it with suspicion.

"Didn't Roger say his brother is around?" she pokes her head inside the kitchen where Harry and Loius are now hiding, before turning back to her original objective - the last room on this floor.

"I hope not," says Harry, genuinely afraid now. He shuts off the gas, though it isn't flowing anyway, and follows Shirley to the unexplored room.

Darren and Ian both follow Harry and Shirley.

The door to the final room on the ground floor is ajar. It is some kind of family or living room, in better shape than the others. The mildewy smell is not so pronounced in here, but the nasty urine tang of ammonia is evident.

The flashlight beams show that against one wall there is a large sofa, grubby but not obviously mouldy or damp, you could even consider sitting on it. On the wall opposite the sofa there's a large set of white-painted wooden shelves. On the shelves are dozens of glass and ceramic miniatures and statuettes, on a middle shelf flickers one of Roger's candles casting barely any useful light. Dominating the highest shelf there is a large furry shape. Sitting immobile, it has a sinister, scowling face, and hazy unfocused eyes. The fur is grey and glistening, but faded and patchy. It looks to be a particularly ugly stuffed cat.

Below the shelving, the floor is covered in debris, fragments of figurines, a photo frame.

It is difficult to localise but somewhere there seems to be the sound of scuffling or scratching.

The wallpaper is peeling and stained. But by the window there's a patch of it that seems to be...well, it's hard to describe, writhing?

Notice stuff :40
1d100

"Probably more rodents," says Harry. "Too bad that cat isn't still alive. Then it would deal with them."

Notice Stuff roll (40% / 2 = 20% skill) in the family room:
d%

Shirley crinkles her nose at the smell. "So, in which one of these rooms do we wanna set up our camp?"

Hard Notice (60% / 2 = 30%):
d%

"Maybe not in this one. There're bugs or worms under that wallpaper," she points to the spot by the window with a grimace.

Shirley points at a patch of stained and peeling wallpaper beneath the window. It seems to be writhing or squirming somehow. Could it be bugs or worms? As if in answer, something slices through the paper, a sharp white teeth, a pointed snout and twitching nose, whiskers, the face of a rat burrows and rips followed by its claws and then a dark furry body and long tail. It slips out the tear in the paper and scurries off into a dark corner and disappears from view.

"No, not this one," says Harry. "Maybe the dining room. I didn't see much in there, but maybe we'll see more with some light. We also haven't checked upstairs yet."

"Awww! It's a possum!" Shirley squeals delighted.

"Let's see what's upstairs then! Just sitting around doing nothing gonna be boring," she tells Harry as she turns towards the staircase with a skip in her step. Before climbing it, however, she uses her poker to make sure the steps are not rotted through and rattles the handrail to see if it's still secure.

"Shouldn't we explore all this floor before we go upstairs? I want to be sure that there isn't anyone else here. "-says kyle.

Once that scary figure outside disappears, Louis feels more confident to move around again. As Harry has left the oven door open, he peers inside to look closely at the interior.

Darren and his brother stay with Louis." Your right Kyle is rather chexk and make sure no ones hiding anywhere here before we go upstairs. "

"Let's search the dining room first, then go upstairs," says Harry, heading that way.

Kyle follow Harry.

As do Darren and Ian.

Inside the oven Louis finds it full of a thick layer of ash. And poking out from the ash are several pieces of what looks to him like bone.

These aren't from a chicken, a cow, or any other farm animal Louis can think of.

OOC:   Having passed your Nature roll will help you pass your Science Class roll so you only have to get a normal success now to reveal the below

These bones are actually all fragments of the same bone. Fitting them together Louis identifies it as an ulna bone, the forearm of a human. From the size, a human child.

OOC:   The realisation that this is the bone from a human child will require a Sanity check - 1/1d4 loss

Kyle, Harry, Darren, and Ian wander back into the dining room, the scent of urine persists. It's barely lit by the spluttering candle ground into the heavy wood of the oval dining table at its centre. Shining their flashlights around the room it's the same as before, precarious looking wooden chairs, not even the whole set, upholstery ripped and spilling out.

The flashlight beams reflect off the shattered fragments of a mirror hanging from a crooked frame on the south wall and scattered across the floor. The battered china cabinet with no door is essentially empty, the tiniest shards of broken porcelian are unidentifiable. Water runs down the walls in a most disconcerting quantity, this house isn't even able to keep the rain out.

But there's no one hiding in here, that's for sure.

Shirley is moving here.

"Okay, it doesn't look like there's anything of interest here," says Harry. "Let's go upstairs now."

Darren takes the lead, keeping hus brother close, poker raised and slowly makes his way up the stairs. "We're coming up now Shirley can you see anything?"

While Louis is poking through the ash and bones in the oven, in the near total darkness, he hears something behind him.

Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. The telephone is ringing.

Kyle tarries for a moment in the dining room, shining his flashlight under the table, looking for anyone hiding against the cabinet. When he's finished, he turns around to find the other three have started up the stairs.

OOC:   Roll Notice Stuff

There's a noise, coming from the kitchen. Ring ring. Yes, definitely a noise. Ring ring. There it is again. Like a telephone ringing.

-----

Darren, with Ian close behind him, takes the lead on the stairs, Harry shining his flashlight back on forth from behind to illuminate the way. He prods the steps with his crowbar but they seem solid enough. The handrail is a bit shaky but holds. Each step elicits a dissonant note from the boards, like a shriek, almost as if they're in pain.

The condition of the house on the top floor is possibly even worse than the ground floor, there is water trickling down the walls and great patches of staining across the peeling wallpaper and exposed plaster. There is extensive green mildew, and even patches of rot where some of the wooden floorboards are exposed. There's a damp, mildewy smell to match. But that's overpowered by something else, ammonia, strong, musty, and bitter - more than rat urine, something more, bat guano perhaps. And another smell, putrid and sweet, like rotting food.

At the top of the stairs, Shirley is standing beside the only visible window to the south, boarded shut with the external shutters closed and little light penetrating through the cracks. She seems to be staring into a mirror hanging beside it. Overhead there's a loft hatch or trapdoor.

You're moving here.

Louis spins round from the oven and stares down the hall, suddenly realising he is all alone.
“Cripes. Guys? Do you heat that?” He gets out the pocket knife and starts walking towards the telephone.

Nature 60 roll: 21 science: 10 roll: 82

Hesitantly, trying to ignore the broken cable, Louis stretches his hand towards the receiver, his hand shakes so much he nearly knocks it from the cradle. Grasping it he puts it by his ear.
“H-hello?”

Notice stuff: 40%

Kyle doesn't nottice anything, so he still follow Harry.

Louis feels the hairs on the back his neck rise but he can’t help but strain to listen.

San 63 roll 75 (lose 1). Hard Pow 33 roll: 36

Seeing everyone else has gone up the stairs, Kyle follows them, shining his flashlight back on forth to illuminate the way. . Each step groans and shrieks, like they're in pain, and the handrail wobbles back and forth disconcertingly.

The condition of the house on the top floor is possibly even worse than the ground floor, there is water trickling down the walls and great patches of staining across the peeling wallpaper and exposed plaster. There is extensive green mildew, and even patches of rot where some of the wooden floorboards are exposed. There's a damp, mildewy smell to match. But that's overpowered by something else, ammonia, strong, musty, and bitter - more than rat urine, something more, bat guano perhaps. And another smell, putrid and sweet, like rotting food.

At the top of the stairs there's the only visible window, to the south, boarded up with the external shutters closed and little light penetrating through the cracks. Overhead there's a loft hatch or trapdoor. On the south wall, just to the left of the window, to the east, is a full-length antique mirror in an elaborate metal frame.

There are two doors off this end of the landing. From the one on the right, with the door slightly ajar to the west, he hears the sound of crashing and banging. There might even be the slightest glimmer of something coming through the thin gap between the door and the frame. On the left there's an open doorway and Harry, Darren, and Ian seem to be standing behind Shirley who is inside the room, which looks like a bathroom, staring into a mirrored cabinet.

OOC:   I'll give you a link to the other thread once I've dealt with something there.

Through the whine of the receiver, Louis can just about make something out. At first he thinks it is a low, whispering voice, but slowly it begins to coalesce, a woman's voice, an old woman's voice, soft, the longer he listens the easier it is to hear. And there's something familiar about it. What's she saying? He tries to focus really hard on the voice, blocking out the crackling, yes, yes, he knows that voice. It's Grams, he hasn't heard from her in a long time. What's she doing on the phone? What's she saying? 'Louis dear, Louis my little sugar lump. You be a good little boy for your Grams. Come down the stairs and help me...'.

There's a click and one of the other doors in the kitchen seems to unlatch and swing open. Louis can just about make out the top of a flight of stairs through the open door. A faint, flickering light is just visible, playing around the steps and the door but barely penetrating the darkness of the kitchen. As Louis stands, holding the receiver to his ear, staring into the weakly illuminated stairway, something shadowy crosses in front of him and disappears down the stairs. It's low down, dark, furry, like a cat.

OOC:   I'll leave it up to you whether his grandmother is dead or alive

Notice stuff 65 roll: 85

Louis is too fixed on the voice to notice anything else. He turns to stare at the new doorway whilst holding tightly to the receiver.

“Grams, is that really you? I- I miss you so much.”
Louis thinks back to happier times and tears prick his eyes.
“I don’t think I want to go down there on my own, Grams- I’m scared.”

'Don't be scared sugar lump. I'm here for you. I'm downstairs in the basement. I've got a treat for you.' Louis realises that the phone line has gone dead. He's hearing Grams's voice through the open door.

Louis drops the receiver which dangles, swinging gently. He walks across the floor towards the door and then stops. Should I tell the others where I’ve gone? No, I won’t be long
He stops at the top of the stairs and looks down them.
“Grams?”

Louis stands at the top of the stairs, looking down the rough steps which stretch into the darkness, a black metal handrail running down the undressed plaster wall on one side. He can barely make out a weak glow that faintly glimmers from the basement.

Then there's a crash of thunder, a flash of lightning through the kitchen window, and the wind roars, howling through the boards and shutters on the windows, slamming the door between the kitchen and the hallway. And the flickering light blinks out, plunging Louis into complete blackness.

'I'm here sweetie. Just come down the stairs. Hold onto the handrail, I don't want my little sugar lump getting hurt. Come down the stairs. Grams is here. I'm waiting for you Louis. I've got a treat just for you.'

The door bangs, the thunder peals and Louis jumps and yelps in fright.
“I-I can’t see, Grams. I need a light.”
He waits, clasping the stair rail tightly, as his eyes slowly adjust. Now his only light is the flickering one down below...
He takes a step down towards it.

Just as his eyes are adjusting to the almost complete darkness a faint light is visible again from down the stairs. It flickers and seems to barely illuminate anything. Louis takes a few steps forwards, placing his hand on the metal handrail and his foot on the wooden step, which creaks ominously.

From the top of the stairs he gets a whiff of the stale basement air. Mildew, dirt, and other even less pleasant odours he can't quite place. In the flickering light shadows lengthen and contract in odd and unsettling ways.

'Grams is waiting sweetie,' the voice more forceful this time.

Louis starts down the stairs, one step at a time.
“But why are you all the way down here, Grams? Aren’t you scared in the dark?”

Each step creaks and groans as Louis slowly, tentatively makes his way down into the basement. The deeper he goes, the worse the smell gets. Over the damp and mildew, the stench of decay. Louis clings onto the handrail and continues his descent. The air has a weird quality, the sounds of his footsteps, the protesting wooden boards, they're dampened, muffled, it's hard to localise where noises are coming from - little sounds - scuttling and scratchings, dripping, the creaking of the house above - they're nearly constant. The flickering light isn't coming from the small room at the base of the steps, but from the room beyond it. Louis can barely make anything out. The illumination is inexplicably dim, shadows stronger, almost palpable, oozing into the edges.

Beyond the stairs the floor is rough-cut flat stones over dirt, unmortared. The wall to the south is also rough stone, the rest are rotting wood slats covered with crumbling horse-hair mixed mortar. The small space at the foot of the stairs is lined with shelves, some kind of pantry. There's no windows, only an opening off to the east where the light is coming from and another opening around to the south west, in complete darkness, opposite what seems to be a rusting coal-burning furnace - long cold and dark. The shelves are filled with shattered and burst jars. Stains of all kinds cover the shelves, walls, and floor.

In response to Louis's question about the dark, a reply comes from beyond the opening to the east, where the dull light emanates. 'Don't you worry about Grams, sweetie, I've got my candle.'

“Ur, well don’t let it go out.”
Louis stops and looks around, realising he has no light of his own.
He strains his eyes into the black hole to the southwest and then turns back to the East.
He starts walking towards the light.

Staggering towards the eerie orange glow, Louis still can't see any sign of his Grams. Through the opening there's another room, packed full of extra storm windows, boxes of useless plumbing supplies and assorted junk. There's one high window in the stone wall to the south, a crash of thunder and flash of lightning illuminates the room for a second, through the smashed glass and boards. Several small brown shapes scuttle away into the piles of junk. The white light highlights a metal grating in the stone floor, and beside it, a small, dusty mirror, hanging on the wall.

Louis's vision is washed out by the lightning, but as the room is plunged into darkness again he sees that rather than there being a candle, the dull light actually seems to be emitted from the small mirror. His eyes burning with the afterimage of the lightning he can't make out anything in the mirror from where he's standing. From somewhere in front of him, coming out from amongst the junk, a dark shape emerges, and rushes towards him along the floor. There's a hiss and, Louis feels a sharp, stinging pain in his left shin. The dark shape issues a yowl and scampers towards the grate, seeming to disappear through the bars and out of sight.

From the corner of the room, the mirror maybe, he hears 'Come over here Louis, let Grams get a good look at her sugar lump.'

Louis takes 2 damage

The wall to the north is made of a smooth and mostly undamaged gypsum board, rather than the lath and plaster of the other internal walls. Louis notices some kind of joint, or gap in the wall. Almost like there's a concealed door.

Attack 50%: 1d100 39
Damage: 1d2 2

“Ow! Blasted rat!” Louis bends down to rub his leg, an inch lower and the rat would have bitten gum boot. The pain brings Louis to his senses,
“I oughta check my leg, Grams. You can get typhoid from rat bites. I’ll come back down, I promise.”
He turns around, putting his hands out in front of him, and tries to walk back to the stairs.

Notice stuff: 65 roll: 93

As soon as Louis turns around the light from the mirror stops, plunging the basement into complete darkness. He struggles to orient himself, where are the stairs? He blunders wildly in the direction he hopes will take him back upstairs, following the faintest of grey in the blackness. Is that the moonlight filtering through from the kitchen?

The whole house seems to creak and hiss. The whistle of the wind rattling the shutters and boards, the house itself letting out a shiver. And other sounds seem to be coming from out of the darkness. Thuds, and stamps, and moans, That's coming from upstairs isn't it? That's just the others walking about... And nearer, somewhere near Louis, maybe here in the basement, there are other noises. Scuffling, scuttling, scratching, sniffing. And something higher pitched. Whispers? They're coming from somewhere around him. In the dark. What are they saying?

I think that'll be a Gym Class roll to keep his footing. A failure will take 1d2 damage from a fall onto the steps.

It's high pitched. Like a little child's voice. But quiet, so quiet. Whispering. 'Help me.'

Louis blunders hard into the steps, cracking his shins.
He curses and slumps to the ground feeling very sorry for himself. He sits there rubbing his shins. He closes his eyes to see if it’s any brighter and then he hears the voice. Help me?
Did he just hear that?
He sits, listening hard to determine where it was coming from. It seemed different to Grams.

Gym 40 roll: 97 damage: 1. Notice stuff 80 roll: 21

Sitting on the stairs, grimacing at the pain in his legs, gingerly touching his scratches and feeling the tacky, wet sensation of blood, Louis tries to focus on the noise, on the voice? There it is again. Whimpering interspersed with something high pitched, whiny, like a small child but very, very quiet, like a whisper, the sounds clumsy, drawn out, as if speaking is difficult. 'Heeelp me. Maaamaaa hurt me.'

Louis can't localise the sound. But it's close. Inside the room. Closer than that. Nearby. He feels like if he reached out his hand he could touch the source, if he could just tell from which direction it was coming.

There's a noise, coming from up the stairs, or at least where he thinks the entrance to the kitchen is. 'Louis!'

Louis disregards the call, he’s too intent on the faint noise.He’s always been a sucker for rescuing small animals in distress, much to the disgust of his older brother. This was just another one.
“Hello? Small child, where are you?”

Louis feels something press against his hand, slightly wet. There's the slightest of snuffling sounds. He instinctively stretches out his fingers and connects with something soft, like fur.

Louis strokes the wet fur tentatively,
“Here, little one, don’t be afraid. We’ll find our way out somehow.” He tries to feel what animal it might be.

His hands strokes the creature. It's furry, a bit damp, he runs his hand down it's bony spine. It seems to be about the size of a shoe, with a long smooth, hairless tail. Very cautiously he feels the head, the nose is short and cold, the face is bald, the mouth flat - it nibbles gently at his finger, not hurting, just softly grazing the skin with small, sharp teeth, interspersed with licks from a wet, smooth tongue.

It' weird, the little creature is too big to be a mouse, too small for a cat, it most resembles a rat, the size, the tail. But the head, it doesn't fit, the ears don't have the soft felt-like consistency of rat ears, they're hairless and rigid, a bit pointed. The muzzle is too short for a rat. The face, it could be a really small cat but it's bald, the tongue's too soft. The best impression Louis can construct just from touch, without any visual information, it's basically a rat, but with a face like...like a monkey or a tiny human face. A tiny human face.

'Niiice.'

OOC:   That's a SAN roll 0/1d3

Louis strokes the animal. He’s pretty good on small animals, having hunted, rescued, ate, most of the local fauna. This one is new. And it doesn’t fit with anything. A cold trickle of creeping fear runs down Louis’ back.
“Ur, shall we go upstairs now?” He says, trying to stay calm while feeling for the bottom step.
“We might find some food in the kitchen, would you like that?”

Nature 60 roll: 36 San 62 roll: 6

The creature nuzzles into Louis's hand and curls up, it's making a contented noise, somewhere between squeaking and purring. He places his foot on the bottom step, pivoting on the ball of his foot to locate the surface, and ensuring it is stable. He starts to climb the stairs, slowly, cautiously. The creature just sits in his hand and he uses the other to steady himself.

About halfway up the stairs the dull, barely perceptible square of grey that indicates the door to the basement lightens. A faint orange, flickering glow. Louis feels the creature squirm in his hand and he looks down. For a second he can make out the little creature. It has the general body shape of a rat, as he had deduced from stroking its fur, but the head, it's squat and monkey-like, the nose, the eyes, the curve of the mouth are all too human.

Before he can fully process what he's seen the creature leaps out of his hand and scuttles back down the stairs.

That's a Sanity check, 1/1d3 loss for seeing a disturbing rat-human hybrid thing. Loss is less than it might have been as he'd already partly figured out there was something not right about it.

sanity 62 roll: 23 lose 1

Louis’ eyes widen in disbelief at the sight of the rat-man-thing, and when it scuttles off he’s not sorry to see it go.
“Man, was that for real?” He mutters but the dim light above draws him on and it’s with relief that he enters the kitchen. He stops and listens, he heart beating, wondering where the others have got to.

He's not sure how, but by the time he makes it up the stairs into the kitchen that vague orange glow has gone. The room is in almost complete darkness again except for what little moonlight filters between the shutters and boards over the window, occasional white light peaking between the storm clouds before it is swallowed up again in the lashing rain.

“Hey guys?” His voice cracks, he’s been quiet for long. He tries again, louder. Wondering if it was the others who had made the orange glow.
“Darren? Shirley? Anyone?” Louis calls, he hears the bumping and, with his hands out in front of him, feels his way to the hallway.

Notice stuff: 80, roll:77

Bumbling out of the kitchen into the hallway, Louis sees Darren, holding Ian's hand, Kyle, and Harry all standing around the front door. It is wide open, silhouetted by a flash of lightning, a figure stands on the porch, one hand gripping the collar of a struggling Roger, hanging limply, his cheek swollen with a nasty welt.

Louis recognises the figure as Ace Simmons, Roger's big brother.

Louis is moving here.