mansion

You are standing outside of a mansion. [[What kind of mansion?]] [[I don’t care about this. I’m leaving.]] (set:$TDCount to 0)

//What kind of mansion?// Why does it matter? [[It matters. Tell me.]] [[You’re right, who cares. I’m leaving.]]

//I don’t care about this. I’m leaving.// Splendid! Farewell. (text-style:"expand","tall")[(text-colour:red)[GAME OVER]] [[RESTART]] (set: $GameOver to it + 1)

//It matters. Tell me.// Is it truly that important? It’s just an old house. It’s not even particularly impressive. Surely you have other, better things you could be doing right now. You have a limited amount of time on this Earth, after all—is this inquisition worth it? [[Tell me.]] [[You’re right. This ain’t worth it. Laters.]]

//You’re right, who cares. I’m leaving.// Wonderful! Have a nice life. (text-style:"expand","tall")[(text-colour:red)[GAME OVER]] [[RESTART]] (set: $GameOver to it + 1)

//Tell me.//(if:$GameOver is 1)[ Didn’t you….? Why did I think you’d left? I suppose it matters not. Since you are so insistent, allow me to set the scene for you.](if:$GameOver is 2)[ But I thought you’d left…? Why are you back? What about this old, rickety monstrosity is so enticing to you? Well, I suppose it isn’t my business. You are here, and you refuse to leave, so I suppose I must indulge you. Here is what you see…](if:$GameOver is 3)[ No, no, no. You left! You left three times, even! Why must you torment me? Can you not leave me to my peace? Have I not made it obvious that you are unwelcome here? Vile creature. I will do my duty, but know that I do not respect you or your pathetic life.] The mansion before you is grand in a way that only something with history can be. It sits on a hill, high above the surrounding orchards, probably visible for miles. The sloping red roof blocks out the sun. If you had to guess, it is a Victorian construction, but there is no way to be sure. You don’t know much about that sort of thing. Foolishly, you have come unprepared. You’re used to outsourcing the research. When you pull out your cellphone to give it a quick search—this is a reasonably famous property—you discover that you have no signal. A little cliche, perhaps, but you’re used to it. The house doesn’t seem to be in particularly good condition, showing its age in the worst ways. Tiles have fallen off the facade. Parts of the front porch are rotten, and much of it is covered with vegetation, ivy and whatever else crawling up the walls. No one has lived here in a very long time, it seems. [[Wait, what’s that?]]

//You’re right. This ain’t worth it. Laters.// Thank you. Good bye. (text-style:"expand","tall")[(text-colour:red)[GAME OVER]] [[RESTART]] (set: $GameOver to it + 1)

//Wait, what’s that?// What’s what? [[That light. There’s a light on inside.]] [[Why are you asking me? Aren’t you the narrator?]]

//That light. There’s a light on inside.// Yes, fine, there is a light on inside. It’s flickering oddly. It doesn’t seem like fire, or a light bulb, or anything else that comes to mind. To put a word to it, it seems almost otherworldly. There is only one window that is effusing the bizarre light. It’s high up, the highest one you can see, and is rather small. If you were to guess, it is a window to the attic. Despite the intriguing nature of the mysterious light, you don’t really want to go inside. [[What are you talking about? I want to go in.]]

//Why are you asking me? Aren’t you the narrator?// Keep your vile titles to yourself, knave. I am God. [[You’re not God.]] [[Okay, God.]]

//You’re not God.// Yes I am. Fuck you. [[Look, dude. We both know you’re not God.]]

//Okay, God.// That’s right, my child. Obey me. [[Back to the light though.]]

//Look, dude. We both know you’re not God.// You don’t know dick about shit! Ahem. My apologies for the crude language. It is unbecoming of the divine. You need not accept the truth, child, it remains the same regardless. [[Okay freak…]]

//Okay freak...// You don’t have to be here. You can leave. In fact, I would love if you left. [[Nah. I wanna talk about that light.]] [[K. Bye.]]

//K. Bye.// Sayonara, shithead. (text-style:"expand","tall")[(text-colour:red)[GAME OVER]] [[RESTART]]

//Nah. I wanna talk about that light.// You are very lucky God said thou shalt not kill. [[I thought you were God?]] [[Just tell me about that light, pussy.]]

//I thought you were God?// MOVING ON. HOW ABOUT THAT LIGHT, HUH? It’s flickering oddly. It doesn’t seem like fire, or a light bulb, or anything else that comes to mind. To put a word to it, it seems almost otherworldly. There is only one window that is effusing the bizarre light. It’s high up, the highest one you can see, and is rather small. If you were to guess, it is a window to the attic. Despite the intriguing nature of the mysterious light, you don’t really want to go inside. [[What are you talking about? I want to go in.]]

//Just tell me about that light, pussy.// Serenity now. Fine. Investigate your insipid little light. See if I care. It’s flickering oddly. It doesn’t seem like fire, or a light bulb, or anything else that comes to mind. To put a word to it, it seems almost otherworldly. There is only one window that is effusing the bizarre light. It’s high up, the highest one you can see, and is rather small. If you were to guess, it is a window to the attic. Despite the intriguing nature of the mysterious light, you don’t really want to go inside. [[What are you talking about? I want to go in.]]

//Back to the light though.// I smite thee! [[…Um. I don’t think you’re actually God.]]

//...Um. I don’t think you’re actually God.// Goddamn it. Fine. Look at your stupid light, then. It’s flickering oddly. It doesn’t seem like fire, or a light bulb, or anything else that comes to mind. To put a word to it, it seems almost otherworldly. There is only one window that is effusing the bizarre light. It’s high up, the highest one you can see, and is rather small. If you were to guess, it is a window to the attic. Despite the intriguing nature of the mysterious light, you don’t really want to go inside. [[What are you talking about? I want to go in.]]

//What are you talking about? I want to go in.// Why would you want to go inside a place like that…? It’s dilapidated, likely full of mold and rats and whatever else. Hell, there are probably ghosts, too. Who’d want to get tangled up in all that? [[Me!]]

//Me!// Come now. Be reasonable, kid. [[Don’t call me kid. I have a name.]]

//Don’t call me kid. I have a name.// Yes, yes, yes. I’m sure you do. It won’t last forever, you know. Eventually, once enough time has passed, everyone and everything becomes nameless. [[Call me by my name.]]

//Call me by my name.// Why should I? I am not beholden to you. In fact, you’re here against my will. You are an interloper. [[It’s basic fucking decency.]] [[I’ll let you pick what I call you in return.]]

//It’s basic fucking decency.// For mortals, maybe. It means nothing to me. [[Please?]]

//I’ll let you pick what I call you in return.// Ohoho an interesting proposition… Very well. I accept your terms. Let us first decide what you wish for me to call you. [[My name?]] [[A cool nickname!]] [[Something sexy.]]

//Please?// If you ask so nicely… Very well. What is it that you want me to call you? [[My name?]] [[A cool nickname!]] [[Something sexy.]]

//My name?// Kind of a conventional choice, but fine. I’m sure you know this already, but your name is ''Rowan''. Is that what you want me to call you? [[Yeah, Rowan is fine.]] [[Actually...]]

//A cool nickname!// Like what? [[Roo.]] [[Optimus Prime.]] [[Jagger.]] [[All these options suck ass.]]

//Something sexy.// For the love of God. Like what, pray tell? Should I take to calling you hotcock? [[I mean…]] [[No!]]

//Yeah, Rowan is fine.// Alright, boring ass. Rowan it is. Now it’s my turn! What will you call me, Rowan? [[God.]] [[Boss.]] [[Chief.]] [[Aren’t these all a little subservient…?]] (set: (p-either:"Rowan","Hotcock","child","fuckface loser","Roo","Stud")-type $Name to "Rowan")

//Actually...// You are a ridiculous human being. Pick something else, then. [[A cool nickname!]] [[Something sexy.]]

//God.// So it shall be done. [[Look around.]] (set: (p-either:"God","Boss","Chief","Lord")-type $N to "God")

//Boss.// A little unconventional, but I like it. [[Look around.]] (set: (p-either:"God","Boss","Chief","Lord")-type $N to "Boss")

//Chief.// My least favorite of the options, admittedly, but that is the nature of trusting mortals to make decisions. I will bear this cross with grace and dignity. [[Look around.]] (set: (p-either:"God","Boss","Chief","Lord")-type $N to "God")

//Aren’t these all a little subservient…?// You are beneath me. I have limited your options further. [[God.]] [[Lord.]] [[That’s it?]]

//Roo.// Yes, that’s cute. I can work with that. Very well! You are now Roo. Now it’s my turn! What will you call me, Roo? [[God.]] [[Boss.]] [[Chief.]] [[Aren’t these all a little subservient…?]] (set: (p-either:"Rowan","Hotcock","child","fuckface loser","Roo","Stud")-type $Name to "Roo")

//Optimus Prime.// We don’t have the rights for that. Try again. [[Roo.]] [[Jagger.]] [[All these options suck ass.]]

//Jagger.// Go fuck yourself I am so serious. I know you know what a dogshit nickname that is, and honestly I’m insulted you ever thought I’d refer to you in such a vile way. You know what? You’ve lost the right to a nickname. I'm going to call you child, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Now it’s my turn! What will you call me, child? [[God.]] [[Boss.]] [[Chief.]] [[Aren’t these all a little subservient…?]] (set: (p-either:"Rowan","Hotcock","child","fuckface loser","Roo","Stud")-type $Name to "child")

//All these options suck ass.// Fuck off. You get nothing, then. In fact, I’m going to call you “fuckface loser” because you are a fuckface and also a loser. Now it’s my turn! What will you call me, fuckface loser? [[God.]] [[Boss.]] [[Chief.]] [[Aren’t these all a little subservient…?]] (set: (p-either:"Rowan","Hotcock","child","fuckface loser","Roo","Stud")-type $Name to "fuckface loser")

//I mean…// I’m not calling you hotcock. That was what is commonly referred to as a “joke”. You know what? Obviously you can’t be trusted to pick a name. I’m going to call you child so we can move on with our fucking lives. Now it’s my turn! What will you call me, child? [[God.]] [[Boss.]] [[Chief.]] [[Aren’t these all a little subservient…?]] (set: (p-either:"Rowan","Hotcock","child","fuckface loser","Roo","Stud")-type $Name to "child")

//No!// A reasonable response, for once. What else should I call you, then? [[Something sexy that isn’t hotcock.]] [[A cool nickname!]] [[My name?]]

//Something sexy that isn’t hotcock.// Fine. Pick something. You get only one chance. [[Casanova.]] [[Stud.]] [[Hotcock.]] [[All these options suck ass.]]

//Casanova.// Hmm, no. I know I suggested it but I kind of hate it. Apologies. You’re better off going with something else. [[A cool nickname!]] [[My name?]]

//Stud.// …If you insist. Stud. Now it’s my turn! What will you call me? [[God.]] [[Boss.]] [[Chief.]] [[Aren’t these all a little subservient…?]] (set: (p-either:"Rowan","Hotcock","child","fuckface loser","Roo","Stud")-type $Name to "Stud")

//Hotcock.// After all that kit and caboodle, you choose Hotcock. You are a bastard. And you know what? You will have to live with the consequences of your actions. Now it’s my turn! What will you call me, Hotcock? [[God.]] [[Boss.]] [[Chief.]] [[Aren’t these all a little subservient…?]] (set: (p-either:"Rowan","Hotcock","child","fuckface loser","Roo","Stud")-type $Name to "Hotcock")

//Look around.// There’s no getting out of this, is there? [[No.]]

//Lord.// Very well, my child! [[Look around.]] (set: (p-either:"God","Boss","Chief","Lord")-type $N to "Lord")

//That’s it?// That’s it. [[God.]] [[Lord.]]

//No.// You are aggravating. You insist on disturbing my peace, and for what? What are you accomplishing here? [[This is a game. I wanna win.]] [[I wanna know what’s in the attic!]]

//This is a game. I wanna win.// There is no winning this game. Let us proceed. [[Explore the outside of the mansion.]]

//I wanna know what’s in the attic!// Is such a simple desire really worth all this…? Ah, who am I to judge. It is obvious you will not be swayed by the likes of me. Let us proceed. [[Explore the outside of the mansion.]]

//Explore the outside of the mansion.// The house is, as previously stated, massive. As you approach, it towers over you. It’s at least three stories tall, which is paltry compared to other buildings you’ve seen, but it still feels bigger than all of them, somehow. You have never felt smaller than you do right now. This house must have been breathtaking in its heyday. As it stands, it is just a tragedy. There is a [[front porch]] just a few feet away from you. It’s a sizeable porch, from what you can see, though it’s in noticeable disrepair. You may be able to make your way to the front door if you’re careful about it, but you aren’t sure. For clarity’s sake, I will tell you this: the front of the house faces south. To your left—the [[west]], if you will—you can see the edge of a sloped roof, likely another porch. To your right—the [[east]]—is what was once a garden. It is overgrown, now. The sight of it makes you sad.

With far more confidence than deserved, you make your way up the stairs and onto the ''front porch''. The wood creaks and moans beneath your feet. It is unsteady, but if you’re careful, it should be okay. It’s not like this house can hurt you anyway. This is an almost bizarrely small porch, considering the grandeur of the mansion. There’s the [[front door]] and not much else. To your left, you can see the rotten remains of what was once a [[wooden swing]]. To your right, there is a [[planter box]], though there is nothing growing in it. For some reason, even the ivy and kudzu climbing up the walls and across the floor have not touched the planter box.

You head to the ''west'' side of the house. (if:(history: where its name contains "the back")'s length is 0)[There is, in fact, another porch here. It’s long, wrapping around the corner and out of sight, towards [[the back]].] (if:(history: where its name contains "the back")'s length >= 1)[You can see most of the side porch from here, except the part that wraps around the [[back]].] This porch is in slightly better condition than the one in front of the house(if:(history: where its name contains "part of the wrap-around side porch")'s length >= 1)[, and //far// better condition than the bit with the giant hole in it]. Most of its railings are intact, and some of them even have white paint on them still. Whatever decorations were once here have been gone for a very long time. There is a low set of stairs not too far from where you’re standing, leading up to a solid-looking section of the [[side porch]]. You may also return to [[the front]] of the house, if you so choose.

The east side of the house once hosted a beautiful, intricate garden, judging by the wildness that remains. There are overgrown rose bushes everywhere, except for a narrow passage of cleared foliage along the wall of the house. That is the only way to access [[the back]] from here. [[Is there anything in the bushes?]]

Heading to ''the back of the house'', you quickly discover that there isn’t actually all the much back here. You can see [[part of the wrap-around side porch]], some ruined [[laundry paraphernalia]], and a [[cellar door]]. The orchard surrounding the property comes closest to the house here. If you wandered into that now, you would never make it back in time. You could, if you wanted to, head around to either the [[east]] or the [[west]] side of the house.

You carefully make your way up the stairs to the ''side porch''. The wood creaks ominously under your weight but doesn’t bend, or God forbid crack, so you figure it’s fine. Probably. It’s not until you’re standing on it that you really notice, but this porch smells. In fact, it fucking stinks—it’s the scent of //rot//, sickly sweet and overpowering. It goes right to your head. You stagger a little. This house has stood for a long time, but it will not do so indefinitely. The end of its lifespan approaches. [[Will I be okay going in there?]]

You are, once again, standing in front of the house. It looks even bigger this time, somehow. It looks big enough to swallow you whole. Since you insist on exploring, I will just lay out your options, and since I hate you, I am going to do it in the laziest way possible: 1 - [[west]] side of the house 2 - [[east]] side of the house 3 - the dilapidated-ass [[front porch]] Or maybe you’ve had enough. Maybe you’ve decided to heed my warnings. Maybe you decided that there are more important things than chasing after a stupid little light in a stupid little house. If that’s the case... [[Go home]].

//Will I be okay going in there?// If I do not have the power to injure you, then this house most certainly does not either. You can traverse the porch worry-free. [[Thanks.]]

//Thanks, $N.// Don’t thank me. Moving on. Looking around, you see the twisted metal carcasses of what were once lovely decorative benches. They are long since rusted. They cannot be saved. There are clay and stone pots around, too, though they are covered in moss and littered with cracks. No traces remain of whatever was once cultivated in them. It is just kudzu running wild, as kudzu is wont to do. One of the pots sticks out to you. It is made of [[blood-red terracotta]] and is, somehow, pristine, untouched by the ravages of time. Perhaps more importantly, you see two doors. There is a door on the right and a door directly in front of you. Both doors have stained glass inlays, small squares of alternating colors arranged in a perfect rectangle in the exact center of the wood. While the bottom edges of the wood has rotted away, the glass is immaculate and even shiny. The door on the right has [[green and blue]] inlays. The door in front of you has [[red and yellow]] inlays. There is more porch around the corner, as you may well know, but it is not safe to access from anywhere except the back, which you may get to from the [[west]] side of the house.

Upon closer inspection, the ''blood-red terracotta'' pot isn’t pristine. It has held up better than the others—undeservedly so, because of its material—but it, too, has been left at the mercy of the elements for a very long time. The surface is scratched and pockmarked. The top edge is chipped in many places along its length. [[Anything else?]]

The ''green and blue door'' is locked. You jiggle the knob. It turns easily, but the door will still not open. There is a lock over the knob and when you lean close, you can see a deadbolt going into the door frame. You will need a key to unlock this door from this side. You lean closer still, squinting through the glass to see what’s inside. As far as you can tell, it is a mostly-empty room, save for a few pieces of ruined furniture. [[What room is that?]](if:$Key is true)[ [[Let me try a key on the blue and green door!]]]

The ''red and yellow door'' is locked. It stays locked even when you jiggle the knob. The knob itself turns fine, but the door will still not open. You crane your neck to lose closely at the lock over the knob and see that there is something lodged in there. No matter how you pick at it, there is no way to remove the object. You will not be able to use this door. Out of curiosity, you lean closer, squinting through the glass to see what’s inside. It is too dark to see anything. You have no choice but to go [[back to the side porch]].

//Anything else?// Why are you asking me…? You’re the one standing there like a dipshit. [[You’re supposed to tell me what I see. That’s how these things work.]]

//You’re supposed to tell me what I see. That’s how these things work.// Oh, are you an expert? You think you could do a better job? [[I mean, yeah. It’s not like it’d be that hard.]]

//I mean, yeah. It’s not like it’d be that hard.// Is that a jab at me? Or are you just self-aggrandizing? [[Little of both.]]

//Little of both.// Insufferable, you are. This is not something to be flippant about. It’s a fate I wouldn’t wish on—you’re not listening, are you? [[Huh? What? Did you say something?]]

//Huh? What? Did you say something?// I detest you. [[Cool, whatever. Can you tell me more about this pot or what?]]

//Cool, whatever. Can you tell me more about this pot or what, $N?// I genuinely cannot fucking stand you. [[The pot! The pot! The pot!]]

//The pot! The pot! The pot!// Fine. Christ alive. Let’s talk about the fucking pot. It is, as stated previously, blood-red and made of terracotta. You’ve never seen terracotta in such a saturated color before. It, uh… God, I don’t know what to even tell you about this pot. Could you give me a hint? [[There’s gotta be something in there! What’s inside?]]

//There’s gotta be something in there! What’s inside?// You’re very confident for someone who knows nothing. That’s how it is, though, isn’t it? The blood-red terracotta pot, like all the other pots, houses overgrown kudzu. It spills over the sides in viridian waves. You may, if you so wish, stick your hand into the vegetation, though I recommend you do not. There could be a spider in there or something. [[Woohoo! Let’s get in there!]]

//Woohoo! Let’s get in there!// You are far too enthused. It’s kind of nauseating. [[Shut up, I’m sticking my hand in.]]

//Shut up, I’m sticking my hand in.// You have no manners. Were you raised in a barn? Whatever. Fine. I’m not particularly interested in dragging out this interaction any longer. You stick your hand into the thicket of kudzu. The leaves and vines make your skin itch, but you ignore it as you wiggle your fingers, searching for the dirt that must be in there somewhere. Eventually, you find—forgive the pun—pay dirt. It’s dirt. Congratulations! [[Is there anything in the dirt?]]

//Is there anything in the dirt?// It’s mostly dirt, $Name. Though… Sigh. Yes, fine, okay. In the dirt, you find an ''old key''. [[Yippee!]] (set: $OldKey to true)

//Yippee!// Shut up. Get out of here. Go on, [[back to the side porch]], $Name.

You return to the ''side porch''. Nothing has changed since last you were here. The [[green and blue]] door, the [[red and yellow]] door, and the [[blood-red terracotta]] pot are all still here. You are free to return to the [[west]] side of the house, of course. That is the only way to access the rest of the porch, or anything else, for that matter.

//What room is that?// No, no. You don’t get to ask me questions. I am just the reluctant facilitator of all this. If you want to know something, you must figure it out yourself. [[How am I supposed to tell, though? All the furniture is ruined.]]

//How am I supposed to tell, though? All the furniture is ruined.// ...A fair point. I suggest a compromise, then. If you enter a room and you cannot figure out what its function once was, I will just tell you. Okay? ...What now?(if:$Key is true)[ [[Let me try a key on the blue and green door!]]](if:$Key is false)[ ...No answer, huh? Just go [[back to the side porch]].]

//$N. Dude. Come one.// Don’t call me ‘dude’. You don’t know me. Fine, fine. Try your smelly keys.(if:$OldKey is true)[ [[Try old key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$SmallKey is true)[ [[Try small key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$ThinKey is true)[ [[Try thin key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$HeavyKey is true)[ [[Try heavy key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$ArtsyKey is true)[ [[Try artsy key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$PinkKey is true)[ [[Try pink key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$FloweryKey is true)[ [[Try flowery key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$LinenKey is true)[ [[Try linen key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$TinyKey is true)[ [[Try tiny key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$YellowKey is true)[ [[Try yellow key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$DirtyKey is true)[ [[Try dirty key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$TarnishedKey is true)[ [[Try tarnished key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$RustyKey is true)[ [[Try rusty key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$AncientKey is true)[ [[Try ancient key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$WarpedKey is true)[ [[Try warped key on the blue and green door.]]](if:$PerfectKey is true)[ [[Try perfect key on the blue and green door.]]] If you want to come to your senses and give up, you may, of course, head [[back to the side porch]].

//Let me try a key on the blue and green door!// Why? [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''old'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''small'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''thin'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You put the heavy key in the lock and try to turn it—it works. The deadbolt slides out of the doorframe. You may now enter [[the parlor]]. Damn you.

You try the ''artsy'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''pink'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''flowery'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''linen'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''tiny'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''yellow'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''dirty'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''tarnished'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''rusty'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''ancient'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''warped'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

You try the ''perfect'' key on the blue and green door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid. [[Dude. Come on.]]

what are you doing in my house

The ''back door'' is made out of a dark wood you don’t know the name of. The very top and bottom of it have rotted away, though the body of the door seems sturdy, still. In the center panel there is an inlay, composed of squares of colored stained glass. The twelve squares form a rectangle—six orange, six light green, alternating. As a color combination, it makes you feel a little sick to your stomach. The orange and light green door is locked. You reach out and, with more force than is probably warranted, wiggle the knob. It turns without issue, but the door isn’t budging. You assume this is due to the lock over the knob. You also assume you will need a key to unlock this door from the outside. Leaning closer, you squint through the glass, trying to see what’s inside. The room is massive, with a large table in the center of it. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to realize that you’re looking at what was once a dining room. {(if:$BackDoor is true)[ Wait, you already unlocked this door, you absolute fuckhead. You can go straight into [[the dining room]].](else-if:$Key is false)[ Without a key, though, there’s not much you can do. It’s time to return to [[the back]].](else-if:$Key is true)[ [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]] You can also explore more of the [[back]], I guess, if you’re into that sort of thing. It’s certainly better than arbitrarily sticking keys in locks.]}

God, fine, alright. I’m not in the mood to argue with you. Go right ahead, idiot. (if:$OldKey is true)[ [[Try old key on the back door.]]] (if:$SmallKey is true)[ [[Try small key on the back door.]]] (if:$ThinKey is true)[ [[Try thin key on the back door.]]] (if:$HeavyKey is true)[ [[Try heavy key on the back door.]]] (if:$ArtsyKey is true)[ [[Try artsy key on the back door.]]] (if:$PinkKey is true)[ [[Try pink key on the back door.]]] (if:$FloweryKey is true)[ [[Try flowery key on the back door.]]] (if:$LinenKey is true)[ [[Try linen key on the back door.]]] (if:$TinyKey is true)[ [[Try tiny key on the back door.]]] (if:$YellowKey is true)[ [[Try yellow key on the back door.]]] (if:$DirtyKey is true)[ [[Try dirty key on the back door.]]] (if:$TarnishedKey is true)[ [[Try tarnished key on the back door.]]] (if:$RustyKey is true)[ [[Try rusty key on the back door.]]] (if:$AncientKey is true)[ [[Try ancient key on the back door.]]] (if:$WarpedKey is true)[ [[Try warped key on the back door.]]] (if:$PerfectKey is true)[ [[Try perfect key on the back door.]]] ...If you're quite finished, you may return to the back [[part of the wrap-around side porch]].

You try the ''old'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''small'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''thin'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You put the heavy key in the lock and try to turn it—it works. The deadbolt slides out of the doorframe. You may now enter [[the dining room]]. Damn you. You may also go also return to the [[back]] if you so choose. (set: $BackDoor to true)

You try the ''artsy'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''pink'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''flowery'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''linen'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''tiny'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''yellow'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''dirty'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''tarnished'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''rusty'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''ancient'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''warped'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

You try the ''perfect'' key on the back door. It, of course, doesn’t work. Great work, ignoramus. You wanna try again? [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]]

how did you get in here

All told, there is not much to this part of the porch, besides the [[back door]] to the house. Technically speaking, you could go around the corner to the rest of the side porch, but that would involve climbing around a gaping hole in the wood and you’re not about that life. If you wish to poke around, return to the [[back]] and head around to the west side of the house.

Hello and welcome to the ''laundry paraphernalia''. There is a clothesline, here, or at the least the skeleton of one. Nearby, up against the wall of the house, there are a number of metal tubs. A few of them have old, warped washboards sticking out of them. One of the tubs is [[upside down]]. Beyond that, there isn’t much else. There’s probably more in other parts of the [[back]]. Or perhaps around the rest of the house, which you can only access by stepping away from the dirty garbage back here.

The ''cellar door'' is made of light, worn wood. It’s actually a double door situation, if we’re being nitpicky here,(if:(history: where its name contains "Don’t you mean doors?")'s length >= 1)[ and I know you like to nitpick about the number of doors,] but that doesn’t matter. It’s locked with a heavy padlock. There is [[keyhole]] as well as a shiny shackle. There’s not much else to say about this door. It is arguably the least interesting part of the [[back]]. [[What the hell is a shackle? Like a handcuff?]]

Why are you staring at ''the bottom of that tub''? It’s too tarnished to reflect much of anything. [[There must be something underneath it!]]

//There must be something underneath it!// Must there be? [[Of course. I know how these things work.]]

//Of course. I know how these things work.// Okay, Doctor Brain Professor. Flip it over, then. [[Flip it over. Booyah!]]

//Flip it over. Booyah!// There is a snake under the tub. You hear a rattling sound. [[…Slowly put the tub back.]]

//…Slowly put the tub back.// The rattling stops. Great work, $Name, you’ve managed to avoid death via snake venom. Can we move on with our fucking lives? Return to the [[back]] yard, in as much as you can call it a yard.

Despite how stupid you are, you understand enough to at least expect there to be a keyhole in a padlock, and sure enough, there is one. The keyhole is scratched to shit, like an entire cavalcade of idiots have tried and failed to unlock this lock. You can inspect other parts of the [[cellar door]] if you want.(if:$Key is true)[ [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]]]

//What the hell is a shackle? Like a handcuff?// I... I suppose they’re similar in purpose? The shackle is the curved metal bar of a padlock, that which must hold fast for the lock to function as such. In the case of this cellar, the [[shackle]] is holding the two doors together.

The ''shackle'' looks brand new. It shines, even in the diminishing light. [[Can I… Can I cut it or something?]]

//Can I… Can I cut it or something?// I don’t know. Do you have something to cut it with? [[Uh… My teeth?]](if:$BoltCutters is true)[ [[Oh shit, yeah, I’ve got bolt cutters!]]]

//Uh… My teeth?// Are you stupid? Surely you must be, to make such a suggestion. [[Hehe.]]

//Oh shit, yeah, I’ve got bolt cutters!// Oh shit, yeah, indeed. You have bolt cutters. [[I’m gonna use ‘em on the shackle!]]

//Hehe.// Don’t you “hehe” me. Put your tongue back in your mouth, that expression is making me sick. You know what? Get the fuck out of here. Go on, shoo. Back to the [[cellar door]].

//I’m gonna use ‘em on the shackle!// I know by now that I cannot stop you. All I can do is plead with you, but you will ignore me, as you have been. I will still try all the same. $Name, please don’t do this. [[Fuck you! I’m cutting this thing.]]

//Fuck you! I’m cutting this thing.// Of course you are. Very well. It takes a little finagling, but you manage to line up the bolt cutters and the shackle. With a not inconsiderable amount of effort, you snap the shackle, and the padlock falls away. You finally have access to [[the cellar]].

OOPS! NO CONTENT

//Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!// Snrk. Good luck. (if:$OldKey is true)[ [[Try old key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$SmallKey is true)[ [[Try small key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$ThinKey is true)[ [[Try thin key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$HeavyKey is true)[ [[Try heavy key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$ArtsyKey is true)[ [[Try artsy key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$PinkKey is true)[ [[Try pink key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$FloweryKey is true)[ [[Try flowery key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$LinenKey is true)[ [[Try linen key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$TinyKey is true)[ [[Try tiny key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$YellowKey is true)[ [[Try yellow key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$DirtyKey is true)[ [[Try dirty key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$TarnishedKey is true)[ [[Try tarnished key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$RustyKey is true)[ [[Try rusty key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$AncientKey is true)[ [[Try ancient key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$WarpedKey is true)[ [[Try warped key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$PerfectKey is true)[ [[Try perfect key on the cellar door.]]] (if:$CellarDoorFail is true)[ [[Whadda fuck… The padlock won’t open!]] ]

You try the ''old'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''small'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''thin'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''heavy'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''artsy'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''pink'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''flowery'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''linen'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''tiny'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''yellow'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''dirty'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''tarnished'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''rusty'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''ancient'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''warped'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

You try the ''perfect'' key on the cellar door. The lock does not budge. You look and feel very stupid, both for trying a key that clearly won’t fit and also for failing to pick up on very obvious narrative clues. [[Wait, I have a key! Let’s try this shit!]] (set:$CellarDoorFail to true)

//Is there anything in the bushes?// Thorns, mostly. [[…Can I stick my arm in there?]]

//…Can I stick my arm in there?// No. Even you have self-preservation instincts that are too strong to allow such an action. [[I’m gonna try it anyway!!]]

//I’m gonna try it anyway!!// Alright, then. Go right ahead. [[Uh…]]

//Uh…// Hmm? Is there an issue, $Name? [[There are a lot of thorns…]]

//There are a lot of thorns…// Mhm. There sure are. Are we having second thoughts, perhaps? Are we thinking that it might actually be in your best interest to //not// stick your hand into an overgrown rose bush? [[But, like… What if there’s something in there?]]

//But, like… What if there’s something in there?// There isn’t. [[Why should I trust you?]]

//Why should I trust you?// I cannot lie to you, $Name, as much as I wish I could. [[You could be lying right now.]]

//You could be lying right now.// I’m afraid you’re just going to have to take my word for it, $Name. You are not going to stick your hand into the thorny bush. What will you do, then? All you can do is follow the narrow path to [[the back]], or you can return to [[the front]]. Hell, you know what, as a sign of good faith, I’m going to give you another option. Up against the wall of the house, along that narrow dirt path, there is a [[small blueberry bush]]. You may stick your hand in there, if you’re so inclined.

(if:visits is 1)[The house’s ''front door'' is large, overly tall in a way that is clearly just flaunting wealth. Whoever designed this house must have been very pleased with the budget. The door itself is actually two doors, sorry. “Front doors” just doesn’t roll off the tongue. [[Do you even have a tongue?]]] (if:visits > 1)[Welcome back to the front door. It is the same as ever. {(if:$FirstFloorHall is true)[You can [[return to the foyer]].](else-if:$FrontDoor is true)[You’ve already unlocked this door. You can head straight into [[the foyer]].](else-if:$OldKey is true)[ [[Hey, lemme try a key on the front door!]]] (else: )[Do you really not have a key yet? You’re an imbecile. You deserve to be flung into the sun. Get the fuck out of here, go [[back to the front porch]].] }]

You don’t even know why you’re inspecting the remains of the ''wooden swing'' so closely. At this point, it’s just a pile of decaying wood beneath a twisted metal frame. It stinks to high heaven. There is nothing here. You can’t even stomach being this close to it. You go [[back to the front porch]].

The ''planter box'' is filled with dirt. You don’t know much about gardening, but the dirt looks fine, to you. Why is nothing growing here, when there are things growing everywhere else? [[Well. What’s the answer?]]

The ''front porch'' has not changed since last you were here. There is still the [[wooden swing]], there is still the [[planter box]], and there is still the [[front door]]. You may also retreat to [[the front]] of the house, if you’re into that sort of thing. That’s the only way to leave.

//Well. What’s the answer, $N?// If I’m able to narrate your innermost thoughts, do you really think that I have information you do not? [[Of course you do! That’s how these things work!]]

//Of course you do! That’s how these things work!// You don’t understand anything. Stop pretending that you do. I’ll hazard a guess as to why the planter box is barren: maybe it was salted. Hell, I’ll hazard even more guesses! Maybe whoever lived here last grew something that leached poison into the soil. Maybe the dirt is haunted. Maybe someone spilled herbicide into it. Maybe it’s not even real soil. Maybe the ivy and the kudzu are just fucking stupid, like you. How’s that for an answer? Don’t say anything. Go [[back to the front porch]].

//Do you even have a tongue?// Irrelevant. I’m describing the front door right now, okay. Pay attention. [[Don’t you mean doors?]]

//Hey, lemme try a key on the front door!// Are you sure? [[Of course I’m sure. There’s no backing out now!]]

//Don’t you mean doors?// Go fuck yourself. The DOORS are, as previously stated, very tall. There is a beautiful stained glass inlay in each door. The one on the left has a rose, and the one on the right has another flower, one you don’t know the name of. It’s bizarre looking, honestly—certainly not beautiful enough to be depicted next to a red rose in full bloom. The flower on the right is purple. Its petals aren’t open, clearly still transitioning from bud. It’s drooping. For some reason, it makes you sad. You wrap your hand around the doorknob of the left door, and for some reason, the brass is warm under your hand. You wiggle it, but the door does not open. It is locked.(if:$Key is true)[ [[Hey, lemme try a key on the front door!]]](if:$Key is false)[ There isn’t anything for you to do here. Come back with a key, bozo. Take your sorry ass [[back to the front porch]].]

//Of course I’m sure. There’s no backing out now!// Christ. There really isn’t, is there? I really don’t want to do this, but you’ve given me no choice. I hope you don’t come to regret this. [[Try old key on the front door.]]

//Try old key on the front door.// It takes a bit of effort, but you manage to get the old deadbolt to disengage. You now have access to [[the foyer]]. Though, before you go in there... I’m going to level with you here. This is very likely the last opportunity you will have to spare yourself all of this. For once, I’ll dispose with the insults, because despite everything, I don’t want this for you. I’ll even beg: please, $Name. Please. Go [[back to the front porch]]. Go //home//. (set:$FrontDoor to true)

You step into ''the foyer''. Despite the outward appearance of the mansion, the inside is intact. It’s beautiful, even. It feels as if you’ve taken a step out of your own time and into a different one. If you’d done more research before coming out to the property, you would know which era, exactly, you’ve stepped into, but you’re an idiot, so you don’t know. All you know is that it is vaguely 1800s-ish. Maybe. Probably. The foyer is welcoming and opulent. The wallpaper is off-white, with red roses curling along the edges. There are gas lamps along the walls and they’re all on. The room is warm. Across from the front door, there is a [[massive dark door]] that seems distinctly out of place. On the east side of the foyer, there is a [[black door]]. On the west side of the foyer, there is a [[plain wooden door]]. Next to the black door, there is a [[short bookshelf]]. Across the foyer, next to the plain wooden door, there is a dark [[foyer table]]. (set:$RightDrawer to false)

Joyously, you stick your hand into the ''small blueberry bush'' with reckless abandon. Nothing bites or scratches you. You feel very accomplished. This is fulfilling all of your wildest hand-sticking dreams. Alright then, $Name. Let us move on. [[No way! I gotta make the most of this.]]

//No way, $N! I gotta make the most of this.// Ah. I am now paying for my hubris. Thank you, $Name, for this humbling lesson. [[There’s something in the bush, right?]]

//There’s something in the bush, right?// Again with the overly confident declarations. Why would you think that? It is a tiny bush outside of a dilapidated house. It doesn’t even have any blueberries on it right now. [[It wouldn’t be a prompt without a good reason!]]

//It wouldn’t be a prompt without a good reason!// This really is a game to you, isn’t it? Look, $Name. This isn’t a fun puzzle for you to solve. Whatever you came here for cannot be worth what you’re going to find at the end. [[I’ll be the judge of that!]]

//I’ll be the judge of that!// You’re an imbecile. Maybe you deserve this. Fine, whatever. I don’t fucking care. In the bush, towards the bottom of the main stem or whatever it’s called, you find something metal. It’s long and thin and bizarrely cool to the touch. When you pull it out, you discover that it is a metal clothes hanger that has been twisted into a strange shape. Digging around a little more reveals a second one. You are now in possession of a set of ''dowsing rods''. [[What the fuck?]] (set:$DowsingRods to true)

//What the fuck?// What kind of question is that? You know what these things are used for. They’re a perfectly respectable piece of equipment. [[I don’t want these… but fine.]]

//I don’t want these… but fine.// You can put them down. In fact, I would prefer if you did. [[Nah. They’re going in the knapsack.]]

//Nah. They’re going in the knapsack.// Listen to you. “Knapsack.” It’s ridiculous. You sound like a child. Whatever, whatever, who cares. Let’s move on. You can go to [[the back]] or to [[the front]] from here.

You approach the ''massive dark door'' with a strange amount of trepidation. It feels unnatural to you, in a way you can’t explain. It feels like it shouldn’t be here. It feels like it shouldn’t exist at all. You’re sensitive to that kind of thing. What kind of bullshit foyer is this, anyway? It’s supposed to be a wide open entryway that leads to the rest of the house. Instead, it is a small, cramped room with three closed doors and a bunch of overly large furniture. Whoever designed this place was a fucking idiot. The massive dark door doesn’t have a knob or a handle of any kind. It doesn’t even have hinges. It is definitely a door, though. That much you’re sure of. When you press your hand to the wood, you recoil. It is cold as ice. It stung your skin. You will not be able to open this door from this side or through any means currently available to you. You have no choice but to [[return to the foyer]].

You approach the ''black door'' with a sense of trepidation that is atypical of you but completely warranted. The door is not only black, it’s a matte, impassive black. It seems to swallow the light. If I hadn’t told you it was a door, you might have walked right into it, thinking it was an open doorway to an unlit room. It has no handle. In fact, nothing mars its surface at all. You may [[return to the foyer]]. (if:$TarotDeck is true)[Except… The door seems to be wavering. Do you wish to [[approach the black door]]?]

The ''plain wooden door'' is, as promised, both plain and wooden. Honestly, it is not so much a door as it is a plank of wood fit into the doorway, held up by only God knows what. It looks cheap and flimsy, at odds with the opulence of its surroundings. It looks like a swift kick would break it in two, like you’re a ten-year-old at karate practice. [[Fuck yes. I’m gonna kick it.]]

The ''short bookshelf'' is, as promised, short, and also a bookshelf. It is made of a dark, shiny wood that is smooth to the touch. On top, there is a globe. It is a bizarre tan color, for the most part, instead of the blue to which you are accustomed. Despite it being mostly accurate, it looks deeply wrong to your modern eyes. The shelves are not, in fact, filled with books. It is rather unbecoming of a bookshelf to hold only knickknacks, but that is this poor piece of furniture’s fate. There are all sort of things, though only two of them stick out to you: an [[antique microscope]] and an [[ornate carved skull]].

Getting closer to the ''foyer table'', you can see that it is an unusually beautiful piece of furniture. It’s made of dark, shiny wood, with an intricate vine pattern carved just under the overhanging top, above the drawers. Speaking of drawers, there are three of them. The is a [[drawer on the left]], and [[drawer on the right]], and a [[drawer in the middle]]. The one on the right has a strange symbol carved into it.

Congratulations on your epic ''return to the foyer''. It is still the foyer.{ (if:$Attic is true)[You need not concern yourself with anything in here. Head [[outside]].](else-if:$Parlor is true)[ You may [[return to the parlor]] from here, if you like. You may also head [[back to the first-floor hall]], or head [[back to the living room]], or even take a look at the [[foyer table]] and [[short bookshelf]] in here.](else-if:$FirstFloorHall is true)[ You may, of course, head [[back to the first-floor hall]]. Or, perhaps, go [[back to the living room]]. You could even poke around the [[plain wooden door]], the [[foyer table]], or the [[short bookshelf]].](else-if:$LivingRoom is true)[ You can head [[back to the living room]], if you so choose. The [[plain wooden door]], [[foyer table]], and [[short bookshelf]] are all still here for you perusal.](else: )[ On the east side is the [[black door]] and the [[short bookshelf]] next to it. On the west side is the [[plain wooden door]] and the [[foyer table]] next to it.]}

//Fuck yes. I’m gonna kick it.// That is a terrible idea. [[Too bad, ‘cause I’m doing it.]]

//Too bad, ‘cause I’m doing it.// Oh my God, you kicked it. The door, of course, does not actually break, because you are an out-of-shape 33-year-old with no leg strength. All you manage to do is knock yourself over. You land heavily on your tailbone and it fucking //hurts//. [[Son of a bitch!]]

//Son of a bitch!// Yeah. Great work, shit for brains. I bet you feel really good about yourself right now. Spare yourself the embarrassment and [[return to the foyer]]. [[Wait, what about the door?]]

//Wait, what about the door?// What about it? It’s a door. [[Can’t I try a key on it?]]

//Can’t I try a key on it?// I don’t care. Waste your time, if you must. [[Try old key on the plain wooden door.]] (if:$SmallKey is true)[I'm gonna [[try the small key on the plain wooden door]].](if:$ThinKey is true)[ I'm gonna [[try the thin key on the plain wooden door]].](if:$HeavyKey is true)[ I'm gonna [[try the heavy key on the plain wooden door]].]

You try the ''old key'' on the plain wooden door. It doesn’t work because there is no keyhole, you fucking imbecile. If you’re quite finished, you should [[return to the foyer]].

You try the ''small key'' on the plain wooden door. It doesn’t work because there is no keyhole, you fucking imbecile. If you’re quite finished, you should [[return to the foyer]].

You try the ''thin key'' on the plain wooden door. It doesn’t work because there is no keyhole, you fucking imbecile. If you’re quite finished, you should [[return to the foyer]].

You try the ''heavy key'' on the plain wooden door. It doesn’t work because there is no keyhole, you fucking imbecile. If you’re quite finished, you should [[return to the foyer]].

You open the ''drawer on the left''. It is full of paperwork. [[…I ain’t reading all that.]]

(if:$RightDrawer is true)[You slide open the ''drawer on the right'' without issue. There isn’t much in there, all told, but there is one thing that catches your eye. …Is there any chance of you ignoring it? [[C’mon. Who do you think I am?]]](else: )[You pull on the handle, but the ''drawer on the right'' does not open. It is locked, somehow. Leaning closer, you squint at the beautiful wood, but you don’t see a keyhole of any kind. There must be some other way to unlock this drawer. Until you figure it out, your only options are to look at the [[drawer on the left]], the [[drawer in the middle]], or [[return to the foyer]].]

You pull open the ''drawer in the middle''. This drawer is, for reasons that are totally beyond you, filled with foliage. Leaves, sticks, flowers, berries, pieces of bark, you name it. You don’t recognize any of it, so it’s probably safe to assume that nothing in there is particularly common. It’s not blueberries or maple leaves or anything your uneducated ass would know the name of. [[Why the hell is this stuff in here?]]

//…I ain’t reading all that.// You don’t have to. There’s nothing in there worth your attention. They are receipts, mostly. Some work orders for repairs around the house. [[Hmm, maybe I should inspect them…]] [[Nah, I don’t care straight up.]]

//Hmm, maybe I should inspect them…// Why? [[What if there’s, like, a date on there or something?]]

//Nah, I don’t care straight up.// Fair enough. You can look at the [[drawer in the middle]] or the [[drawer on the right]], if you want. You may also [[return to the foyer]] if you’ve have enough of the drawers.

//What if there’s, like, a date on there or something?// …That is actually a good question. Damn you. You make salient points so rarely that it’s supremely annoying when you actually manage it. Fine, fine. You pick up one of the papers. It’s a work order for a roof repair. It is dated October 22nd, 1896. Are you happy now? [[Hehe, yeah.]]

//Hehe, yeah.// Did you just fucking wink? Why did you just fucking wink? I can’t stand you. I hate you so much I could throw up. Look at the other drawers, $Name. There is the [[drawer on the right]] as well as the [[drawer in the middle]]. You may also [[return to the foyer]]. In fact, that’s exactly what you should do. You should return to the foyer, leave through the front door, and walk directly into traffic.

//Why the hell is this stuff in here?// Beats me. [[What’s it all for?]]

//What’s it all for?// Dunno. Maybe whoever put it in there makes wreathes. Maybe they’re a witch. Maybe it was a child, collecting things from outside. Maybe it’s none of those things. Who can say? Certainly not you. [[I’m gonna dig around in there.]]

//I’m gonna dig around in there.// Of course you are. You love to rub your grubby fingers all over everything. Remember when you dug around in the dirt? I remember that. Your fingernails do, too. They’re black underneath. [[Were you saying something? I’m digging over here.]]

//Were you saying something? I’m digging over here.// I don’t know why I fucking bother. What’s the point? You’re only ever going to do what you want. You’re the most stubborn person that’s come into this house in a long time. I fear that there is no stopping you. I fear that it will be my fault. [[Ooh I feel something!!]]

//Ooh I feel something!!// Sigh. Yes, you do indeed feel something. It’s a lump on the back right wall of the drawer. [[OMG, it’s a button, right? A secret button?]]

//OMG, it’s a button, right? A secret button?// Your enthusiasm is unwarranted. It probably seems like dour, pessimistic griping to you, but I simply must continue to beat this dead horse. Maybe if I beat it enough it will cease to be. Here I go: you should not be here. You should leave. You should run far, far away. Nothing good awaits you. [[Pfht, whatever! You’re just saying that ‘cause you don’t want me to win.]]

//Pfht, whatever! You’re just saying that ‘cause you don’t want me to win.// There is no winning. But fine! Whatever. Think what you will. Yes, it is a button. When you push it, you hear a clunk, as if something has disengaged. The wood between the middle drawer and the right drawer vibrates. There is nothing else for you in there. You can inspect the [[drawer on the left]], the [[drawer on the right]], or you can [[return to the foyer]]. (set:$RightDrawer to true)

//C’mon, $N. Who do you think I am?// I think you’re an idiot with no sense of self-preservation. I think you’re a reflection of a person who hasn’t existed in a long time. I think you’re a lot of things. Inside the drawer, there is a velvet bag. It looks black until you pull it out. Under the flickering lights of the gas lamps, you run your fingers over the dark blue fabric, over the stars and moons embroidered across it in silver thread. With gentle, trembling fingers, you untie the bag. Inside, there is a deck of cards. [[These are…]]

//These are…// Yes. You do, in fact, know a lot about these cards. It is a Grand Etteilla tarot deck. It is very, //very// old. However, it is not as old as it could be. Were this deck from the era in which it was first designed, it would be solely in French. This version, on the other hand, has English text on it as well. It must be from after tarot spread to the English Isles. Your guess is that it was produced in the late 1800s. There is one card facing up. It is upside-down. Like this, it says ARBITRAGE. Beneath that, in light blue text, it says ARBITRATION. You know this card. It is Judgement. You flip the card around to look at the art—it is beautiful. There is an angel blowing their trumpet. There is a woman rising from the dead. There are people raising their hands in exultation. [[Judgement reversed means…]]

//Judgement reversed means…// External constraints bearing down on you. You must find openings and squeeze yourself through them, or this will be the end. [[Is that… Good?]]

//Is that… Good?// You’re the tarot expert. Is this the word of fate, or the word of that which put the deck here in the first place? You take the deck. It is time to [[return to the foyer]]. (set:$TarotDeck to true)

You are able to recognize it as an ''antique microscope'', but only just. If anything, it looks more like a telescope, what with its narrow cylindrical body and jaunty angle. It is made entirely of metal, shiny yellow brass that gleams in the light of the gas lamps. It looks delicate. You don’t really want to touch it for fear of damage. You can inspect the [[ornate carved skull]], or you can [[return to the foyer]].

The ''ornate carved skull'' is not to scale. It’s about the size of your fist. The workmanship is nothing short of immaculate. It’s carved into what you suspect is whale bone, anatomically accurate as far as you can tell, with fissures and everything. When you lift it, it is far lighter than you expected. Its eyes are pitch black. [[Is it hollow?]]

//Is it hollow?// I don’t know. Try sticking your finger in there. [[I thought you don’t like it when I do that kind of thing…]]

//I thought you don’t like it when I do that kind of thing…// You’re going to do it no matter what I say, right? [[Heh. Yep.]]

//Heh. Yep.// Exactly. So why should I bother? You stick your finger into the right eye-socket of the carved skull. It is, indeed, hollow. Wiggling your finger around, you try to feel for anything inside. In the process, your finger gets stuck, and you start to panic a little. [[Did you only let me do this because I’d get hurt?!]]

//Did you only let me do this because I’d get hurt?!// Don’t be dramatic, $Name. This stupid little skull isn’t going to actually injure you. Sure, it hurts like a bitch, but you do eventually manage to remove it from your finger. Your finger is red but unharmed. You give the skull a little shake. There is no sound—nothing is rattling around inside. The skull is empty, and you are an imbecile. Move on to the [[antique microscope]] or [[return to the foyer]].

You take another step closer, ''approaching the black door''. It seems to waver more, but when you reach out, it feels solid under your fingertips. [[There must be something I can do.]]

//There must be something I can do.// Must there be? [[Tell me. We’re going to be here all day otherwise.]]

//Tell me. We’re going to be here all day otherwise.// What if I told you this is where I’m going to put my foot down? If I tell you how to open this door, it will tell you how to open many of the doors in this vile mansion. This my only opportunity to stop you. [[You can’t stop me. When will you accept that?]]

//You can’t stop me, $N. When will you accept that?// I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. [[You can. You must.]]

//You can. You must.// I hate you. You’re making this so hard for me. [[The door, please.]]

//The door, please, $N.// The door… The door is not, strictly speaking, real. When this house was simply someone’s home, it did not have nearly as many doors as it does now. This black door is ''unnatural''. Unnatural doors may only be dissolved by that which holds dominion over the room on the other side. If you return to it something that it has lost, a room will grant you entry. [[So, what, I need a trigger object?]]

//So, what, I need a trigger object?// Sure, if that’s what you wish to call it. What would you like to offer the black door? You may try [[the tarot deck]]. (if:$DowsingRods is true)[You can also offer [[the dowsing rods]].]

You hold ''the dowsing rods'' up to the door, but nothing happens. It feels as if the door is laughing at you. Perhaps you should try [[the tarot deck]] instead.

You hold ''the tarot deck'' up to the black door. It wobbles, for a moment, before dissolving completely. You now have access to [[the living room]].

Stepping into ''the living room'' is like stepping into a pressure cooker. It’s hot, in here, and incredibly cramped. You’re honestly a little impressed by that—it’s a //very// large room with high ceilings. Whoever lived here last stuffed it to the very brim. There are bookshelves, cabinets, and armoires lining every wall, stretching up and up. The center of the room houses a [[massive wooden table]], round and covered with a myriad of things; candles, mostly, though there are glasses of mysterious liquids, cards, papers, coins, a gaudy hand mirror, and more. You’d have to look closer to learn more. The table is surrounded by eight chairs, all differently shaped but painted the same shade of jarring black. The room is dark. Oppressively so. There are thick blackout curtains over the windows, keeping all the heat inside. You start to sweat. In one corner of the room, there is a [[dark fireplace]]. Trinkets and bobbles rest on top of it, surprisingly dust-free. The bricks have been painted black to match the rest of the room. You can’t help but appreciate the dedication to the aesthetic. One of the many looming pieces of furniture catches your eye—an [[armoire lined with gold leaf]]. It is unique for that splash of color. Everything else is plain black, swallowing light. You don’t like being in here. Something about it is unsettling. You feel like an intruder, like you’re violating something or someone. Part of you wants to [[return to the foyer]]. (set:$LivingRoom to true)

You lean over the ''massive wooden table'' in the center of the room to get a closer look at the menagerie. Most of the table is covered with beeswax candles, many without dishes, their wax melting directly onto the wood. Seems like a bit of a fire hazard, really, but it’s not your problem. There are papers scattered everywhere, covered with charcoal scribbles. Drawings, strange symbols, pentagrams, witch’s circles—it’s a veritable occult cornucopia. Whoever made use of this room was really dedicated to this stuff. Considering your occupation, you know better than to mess around with any of it. You’ll limit your snooping only to things that probably won’t curse you forevermore. In the very middle of table, which you’re not sure you can reach, is an impossibly old-looking [[Ouija board]]. Off to one side, half under a hand-bound grimoire, you spot a [[small hand mirror]]. Something under the table catches the scant light and gleams. It’s a [[tarnished silver coin]]. If you’re uninterested in touching any potentially cursed artifacts, you may head [[back to the living room]].

Approaching the ''dark fireplace'', you discover that it is full of ash, as if it were used just yesterday. That’s not possible, of course. This house is abandoned. It unsettles you. [[Ima dig around in the ash.]]

Something about the ''armoire lined with gold leaf'' fills you with apprehension. Why is this the only piece of furniture with any embellishment? [[This is a trap. It feels like a trap.]]

You can tell at a glance that the ''Ouija board'' is incredibly old because it is not, in fact, a board. It is a yellow piece of thick paper with handwritten text. It is undeniably a Ouija board, though. [[Hell yeah. Lemme grab that shit.]]

You pick up the ''small hand mirror'' without fanfare. It’s ornate in a gaudy way, all swirls and naked cherubs, so it was likely purchased without its ultimate fate in mind. You can perfectly imagine this ugly little thing being used by a snooty socialite fixing their powdered wig. (You know very little about history.) Occult expert that you are, you know why this mirror is here, at least. It’s for scrying. [[Scrying is so lame.]]

When you pick up the ''tarnished silver coin'', it is warm to the touch. It’s about the size of a nickel. It’s definitely not a nickel, though. For one, it’s not perfectly round, and for another, you have no fucking clue who the guy on it is. He has a beard and a frankly bizarre-looking crown. There is text surrounding the head like a halo, but you can’t read it. You can’t even tell what language it is. Not for the first time, you wish you had paid more attention in school. [[Is it worth anything?]]

Salutations! You have made it back to ''the living room''. Everything is as you left it. There is still the [[massive wooden table]] in the center of the room. Similarly, the [[armoire lined with gold leaf]] is still there as well, exactly as you remember it. The [[dark fireplace]] in the corner remains as dark and fireplace-y as ever. You may, of course, [[return to the foyer]], if you so choose.{ (if:$FirstFloorHall is true)[ You may also head [[back to the first-floor hall]] or even [[return to the library]].](else-if:$Library is true)[ You may also [[return to the library]].](else: )[ You may also inspect a door that somehow escaped your notice when first you stepped foot into this room. It is an [[abnormally wide door]] with a delicate, beautiful pattern carved into it. Frankly, it sticks out like a sore thumb. You have no idea how you missed it.]}

//Hell yeah. Lemme grab that shit.// Are you sure you want to try? It is unclear if you can actually reach. If you lean over this table haphazardly, you may disturb the delicate balance of occult paraphernalia. You could make a mess. You could fall over and chip your tooth. You could even get yourself cursed. [[I think you’re being dramatic.]]

//I think you’re being dramatic, $N.// Curses are real, $Name. [[I know curses are real. It just takes a bit more than knocking some bullshit to the floor.]]

//I know curses are real. It just takes a bit more than knocking some bullshit to the floor.// Your funeral. If you insist on potentially getting your ass cursed, who am I to stop you? Like an idiot, you lean over the massive wooden table, stretching and stretching your stupid little arms. One of your feet lifts off the floor. Frankly, you look fucking ridiculous right now. [[Am I reaching it or not?]]

//Am I reaching it or not?// You can’t even tell that much on your own? Some investigator you are. [[Can you stop being petty and just tell me?]]

//Can you stop being petty and just tell me?// It is my God-given right and privilege to be petty. You’re the one who came stomping up to my home uninvited. You’re the one who won’t let sleeping dogs lie. You’re the one who knows nothing and refuses to listen. You can reach the Ouija board. [[Score!]]

//Score!// Save your smugness for someone who wants to hear it. The Ouija board is, as previously stated, just a piece of paper, but it has an undeniable aura of power all the same. This is a real tool that has been used to communicate with spirits. The lettering is nothing short of immaculate. It looks like professional calligraphy—very likely, this was commissioned at a high price point. Even the paper seems to be of remarkable quality. Whoever had this made was both wealthy and very dedicated to the occult. [[Is there a planchette anywhere?]]

//Is there a planchette anywhere?// Do you see one, $Name? [[…No. I don’t.]]

//…No. I don’t.// Then why did you ask me? Does it not seem like a dreadful waste of time to ask questions you already know the answers to?(if:$Planchette is true)[ The one in your possession may go with this board. It also may not. Who cares anyway?] [[Why are you even narrating this if you hate it so bad?]]

//Why are you even narrating this if you hate it so bad?// Would that I had a choice. What are you going to do now? [[I dunno. Leave I guess.]]

//I dunno. Leave I guess.// Splendid! Go [[back to the living room]], then. Or you may, I suppose, investigate other things on this table, like the [[small hand mirror]] or perhaps the [[tarnished silver coin]] on the floor.

//Scrying is so lame.// The lamest. [[Even I don’t believe in that shit.]]

//Even I don’t believe in that shit.// I understand your position, here, but I do think it is misguided. Its lameness belies its efficacy. [[Are you really saying scrying works? Fucking scrying?]]

//Are you really saying scrying works? Fucking// scrying//?// There is much that cannot be seen by mortal eyes. Is it truly so unbelievable that a mirror may show you that which you cannot look at directly? Dear $Name, there is a world that runs parallel to your own. Tools of the occult are used to observe it and perhaps even communicate with its inhabitants. Scrying, lameness aside, is but a way to catch a glimpse. [[Is it like... a mirror world?]]

//Is it like… A mirror world?// No. Imbecile. I don’t know why I bother with you. [[Aw, man, c’mon. Give me a hint!]]

//Aw, man, c’mon, $N. Give me a hint!// You shouldn’t even need a hint. It’s the afterlife, dipshit. When someone dies, they pass on to the other side, do they not? Perhaps describing it as running parallel to your reality was misleading. It is simply the other side of the coin. Parallel, yes, but also touching. [[So it’s a reflection?]]

//So it’s a reflection?// In a way. [[That’s a mirror world! Asshole!]]

//That’s a mirror world! Asshole!// No, no, no. When you said “mirror world”, you meant an alternate universe, like in goddamn Star Trek. You can’t lie to me. [[It could be like Star Trek!]]

//It could be like Star Trek!// It’s not fucking Star Trek. Whatever. I’m not doing this with you. We need to move on. You may examine the [[Ouija board]], the [[tarnished silver coin]], or you may go [[back to the living room]].

//Is it worth anything?// The coin looks old and damaged enough that you assume it is no longer in circulation wherever it’s from. Its only value would be as an artifact. Without knowing when or where it was minted, the value of this coin is a total mystery. [[Can I take it, then?]]

//Can I take it, then?// No. Thief. [[Aw, c’mon! No one lives here anymore!]]

//Aw, c’mon! No one lives here anymore!// A bold assumption. Put the coin down, $Name. Go do something else. Like say, perhaps, examining the [[Ouija board]], or the [[small hand mirror]]. You could also go [[back to the living room]] if you so choose.

//Ima dig around in the ash.// Oh my God. Why? Why? That’s going to make a fucking mess. The ash is going to get everywhere! The carpet, your hands, your clothes… Nothing will be safe. Do you enjoy getting dirty? Is that what it is? Or are you just trying to spite me? [[It’s not all about you! It’s not about me, either. It’s about getting to the bottom of all this!]]

//It’s not all about you, $N! It’s not about me, either. It’s about getting to the bottom of all this!// What does that have to do with sticking your already dirty fingers into an even dirtier fireplace? [[I see something in there. Under the ashes.]]

//I see something in there. Under the ashes.// Oh, of course you do. God forbid you let a thing like that go unnoticed.(if:(history: where its name contains "back to the living room")'s length >= 1)[ You don’t notice an entire fucking door, and yet you spot a small splash of white in the fireplace… Insufferable.] If you make a mess of my carpet, so help me God. [[I’ll be careful grabbing it!]]

//I’ll be careful grabbing it!// Sure you will, butterfingers. [[Fuck off. I’m grabbing it. Carefully.]]

//Fuck off, $N. I’m grabbing it. Carefully.// Yeah? You fucking drop it, of course. It lands with a muffled thud, spraying ash everywhere. As predicted, it gets all over the carpet and your clothes and your hands, and even into your lungs. You cough and cough until tears well in your eyes. [[You’re being vindictive.]]

//You’re being vindictive, $N.// You can’t prove that. Try again. It should work, this time. [[I try again. Hesitantly.]]

//I try again. Hesitantly.// Don’t be like that. Neither I nor this house can actually injure you, right now. Not in any way that matters. You grab the object with little issue. Turning it over in your hands, you realize quickly what it is; it’s a Ouija board planchette. It appears to be custom made. You’re not an expert on old-fashioned Ouijas, so you don’t know if this is typical, but the planchette is made from smooth ivory. It has small symbols carved into the top of it.(if:(history: where its name contains "Ouija board")'s length >= 1)[ One would assume that it is a match to the Ouija Board you looked at earlier, but it’s unclear how true that is, seeing as they’re both custom pieces. They could easily be from different sets.] [[Can I keep it?]]

//Can I keep it?// What are you, a thief? You did not come here today to pilfer. [[It feels important, though.]]

//It feels important, though.// Are you going to insist? [[Of course I am!!]]

//Of course I am!!// Insufferable as ever. Fine, whatever. [[Sweet. Yoink!]]

//Sweet. Yoink!// You put the planchette in your knapsack. Having had enough of playing around and making a mess, you go [[back to the living room]]. (set:$Planchette to true)

//This is a trap. It feels like a trap.// This isn’t Scooby fucking Doo. [[Ah, but you did not deny it being a trap!]]

//Ah, but you did not deny it being a trap!// Oh, I’m sorry, was my ridicule not clear enough? I’ll speak plainly, then. It’s not a fucking trap you absolute goddamn lunatic. This isn’t a Halloween haunted house for you to play around in, this is a graveyard. You can just open the armoire. Nothing is going to jump out at you. [[What was that about a graveyard…?]]

//What was that about a graveyard…?// Open the fucking armoire, $Name. [[Fine, fine. Sheesh.]]

//Fine, fine, $N. Sheesh.// You open the armoire and, as promised, nothing happens. It is simply an armoire filled with nonsense. The shelves hold fabric, mostly. Tablecloths, replacement curtains, seat cushions, that kind of thing. Anything one might need for a long seance. The [[very top shelf]] probably has stuff on it, too, but you can’t see from the floor. You’d have to drag over a chair to stand on if you wanted to know for sure. You can’t really see the [[very bottom shelf]], either. You’d have to crouch to examine it closer.

Without once considering the structural integrity of the antique furniture, you haul one of the chairs surrounding the massive wooden table over to the open armoire and climb up onto it. Surprisingly enough, the ancient ass chair supports your weight just fine. For some reason I expected it to fall apart like it was made of Lincoln Logs. It’s a little wobbly, but steady enough for your purposes. You can now see the ''very top shelf''. [[Hell yeah. What’s up there?]]

Getting on your hands and knees in a frankly humiliaring manner allows you to see the contents of the ''very bottom shelf''. On the lefthand side, there is an [[ornate silver box]]. On the righthand side, there is a [[short stack of books]]. For some reason, one of the books is bright yellow.

//Hell yeah. What’s up there?// Nothing. [[Huh??]]

//Huh??// There’s nothing up there. [[Oh… Okay…]]

//Oh… Okay…// Don’t sound so dejected. You’re making me feel like I just kicked a puppy. So what if there’s nothing there? Now you know. You’ve learned something, at least. Not every line of inquiry will bear fruit. Such is the nature of life. Might I suggest checking out the [[very bottom shelf]]? Or you could abandon the armoire entirely and go [[back to the living room]].

The ''ornate silver box'' is ornate and made entirely of silver. When you lift it, it is incredibly heavy, though when you shake it it makes no sound. The lid has a beautiful drawing carved into it. It’s a complex scene; a woman swinging on a wooden swing, surrounded by weeping willows, her hair and dress flowing in the wind. The level of detail is astonishing—even if it was made by simply pouring molten silver into a mold, the mold was created by an extraordinarily skilled artist. To summarize it, I will say that the box is exquisite. [[Can I open it?]]

Looking closer, the ''short stack of books'' is only five books tall. Barely enough to be considered a proper stack, really. Four of the books look to be bound with dark leather. One of them, two up from the bottom, is smaller than the rest, and a bright, cheery yellow. [[Noice. Is there anything notable about the leather books?]]

//Can I open it?// Try it. [[Oh, it opened. That was easy.]]

//Oh, it opened. That was easy.// Yeah. What’s inside? [[A bunch of jewelry.]]

//A bunch of jewelry.// Anything interesting? [[Not really. It’s all old stuff I wouldn’t wear.]]

//Not really. It’s all old stuff I wouldn’t wear.// Not really a brooch person, huh? [[You’re going to stop me from stealing anything, aren’t you?]]

//You’re going to stop me from stealing anything, aren’t you?// Sure am. Put it down, tiger. [[You suck. Whatever. I didn’t care about this shit anyway.]]

//You suck. Whatever. I didn’t care about this shit anyway.// Great! Let’s move on from the beautiful box, then. You could investigate the [[short stack of books]], perhaps. Or, if you’re done with the armoire, you could head [[back to the living room]].

//Noice. Is there anything notable about the leather books?// Not really. You pick one up and rifle through it, discovering that it simply another grimoire. Its binding is poor and the handwriting sloppy—this was likely a draft. Looking at the other three leather-bound books, you find similar content. So similar, in fact, that you feel reasonably confident that these are all drafts of the same work. The spells are slightly different, as are the binding techniques, but not much else changes between them. [[Damn, okay. Useless.]]

//Damn, okay. Useless.// Indeed. [[Now on to that yellow book!]]

//Now on to that yellow book!// Why? It’s just a dinky little book. [[Um, it’s obviously out of place. I mean, it’s the brightest thing in this whole room! That alone makes it noteworthy.]]

//Um, it’s obviously out of place. I mean, it’s the brightest thing in this whole room, $N! That alone makes it noteworthy.// I think you’re reading too much into it. [[Whatever. *Grabs the book*]]

//Whatever. *Grabs the book*// …Did you just fucking roleplay? [[No! It’s called doing an action!]]

//No! It’s called doing an action!// No. You just said that and then didn’t do anything. I think that’s roleplaying. [[You stopped me from doing it!]]

//You stopped me from doing it!// No, I most certainly did not. You have a severe and perhaps incurable misunderstanding of how things work here. If you want to act, then simply act. If it is truly something that needs to be done, I cannot actually stop you. [[Wait, so if you stop me from doing something, that means it really wasn’t important?]]

//Wait, so if you stop me from doing something, that means it really wasn’t important?// I don’t owe you any explanations. You want to pick up the yellow book? Fine. You pick up the yellow book. Congratulations! You are now holding the yellow book. Are you pleased with yourself? Is it everything you imagined? [[What’s it say?]]

//What’s it say?// The spine has two things to tell you: one, the name of the author. O. Mirbeau. French, you assume, although they could also be, like, Belgian or something. You’re not really an expert. Two, of course, is the title of the book, laid out in all caps: //LE JARDIN DES SUPPLICES//. This book, like all the other books you’ve encountered in this hellhole of a house, is hand-bound. When you flip it open, the pages appear to be a very old official publication, so this was likely restored by someone. [[What does that title mean?]]

//What does that title mean?// How am I supposed to know? I don’t speak French. [[I don’t either!]]

//I don’t either!// Exactly. Skimming the book reveals no illustrations of any kind, so you can’t even begin to guess what kind of book this is or what it’s about. You know enough Spanish to know, at least, that “JARDIN” probably means garden. Other than that, you have nothing. The title page gives you a little more information—this book was published in Paris in 1899. The author’s first name is Octave. That’s it, though. [[Kind of disappointing. Can I hold on to it?]]

//Kind of disappointing. Can I hold on to it, $N?// It’s not my fault you don’t speak French. Must you really take it? Is it not best to leave other people’s belongings alone? [[I’m puttin’ it in the knapsack.]]

//I’m puttin’ it in the knapsack.// Of course you are. Fine, fine. You put the French book in your knapsack, because you are a thief and a miscreant. Get out of here. Go examine the [[ornate silver box]], or perhaps other parts of the armoire, like the [[very top shelf]]. You could also go [[back to the living room]]. (set:$FrenchBook to true)

The ''abnormally wide door'' is abnormal in more ways than just its width. It, like the door that led into this room in the first place, has no handle. It’s //unnatural//. (if:$FrenchBook is true)[The wood seems to wobble before your very eyes. It is safe to assume that you’ve picked up the key sometime during your embarrassing scrounging. What will you hold up to the door? [[The tarot deck!]](if:$Planchette is true)[ [[The planchette!]]] [[The French book!]] (if:$DowsingRods is true)[ [[The dowsing rods!]]]](else: )[Come back when you have an appropriate offering. Go on, [[back to the living room]] with you.]

//The tarot deck!// Nope. You already used that one. Try again, dipshit.(if:$Planchette is true)[ [[The planchette!]]] [[The French book!]] (if:$DowsingRods is true)[ [[The dowsing rods!]]]

//The planchette!// You hold it up to the door, but nothing happens. Try again. [[The tarot deck!]] [[The French book!]] (if:$DowsingRods is true)[ [[The dowsing rods!]]]

//The French book!// Holding the book up the door makes it wobble more and more until it seems to wink out of existence. You recoil, blinded by sudden brightness. Through the now-open doorway, there is a shiny, brightly-lit room. You now have access to [[the library]]. (set:$AbnormallyWideDoor to true)

//The dowsing rods!// God, you really love to carry things around that you found outside in the dirt. This one does nothing. It almost feels like the house is laughing at you. Try again idiot! [[The tarot deck!]](if:$Planchette is true)[ [[The planchette!]]] [[The French book!]]

Entering ''the library'' makes your head hurt. You squint, eyes nearly closed, unable to handle the luminance after your previous submergence in the darkness of the living room. You’ve never been scuba diving, but you imagine that this is what it must be like—going from deep, all-encompassing blackness back to the domain of the sun. You think you might have the bends. It’s bright in here for many reasons. For one, on your right, the walls all have massive windows, letting natural light pour in. Despite it approaching dusk when you arrived, the sun is shining like it’s early afternoon. For another, there are light fixtures everywhere, far more than is necessary, even in a room where one would read. They’re all on, too, despite the twinkling sunlight. It smells a little funny in here, and you’ve been in enough historical buildings to recognize the scent of gas. You are in no danger, though. Not yet. For yet another, the room decor itself is glitzy and bright. The walls gleam in the light, an almost reflective off-white, decorated with ornate gold paneling. It looks opulent to the point of satire, like a movie set. There are red velvet chaise lounges and couches scattered throughout, little tables holding gaudy clocks and decorative eggs, and a massive crystal chandelier hanging from the gilded ceiling. Every wall that does not have a window—save one bizarre-looking stretch of bare plaster wall—houses a bookshelf, huge cherry-colored things that reach the high ceiling. Every inch of shelf space is packed with books, which look to be organized by color. [[Aren’t you supposed to give me options for what to inspect?]]

//Aren’t you supposed to give me options for what to inspect?// Oh, right. Yeah. Sorry. I was distracted by this room. Something about it is fascinating to me. Who would decorate a room like this? Who do you think you are, one of the Habsburgs? It’s ridiculous. This room is a parody of itself. [[It does seem like a bit much.]]

//It does seem like a bit much.// Right? It’s ridiculous. Opulence for the sake of opulence. If we’re being honest, here, it’s a goddamn eyesore, but there’s no accounting for taste, I guess. Anyway. Options, options… Um… Okay. You scan the bookshelves, looking for shades of yellow similar to the book you’d picked up, to see if you can return it to where it belongs. [[Why would I do that? What if I need to keep it?]]

//Why would I do that? What if I need to keep it?// You don’t. Each trigger object will grant you access through one door only. Once the door is gone, it will not reappear for you. You will forever have access to any room you’ve stepped foot into before. As I said before, the “trigger objects”, as you’ve decided to call them, originally belong to the room on the other side of the unnatural door. In exchange for your returning of something it’s lost, it grants you entry. [[But I still have the tarot deck. Should I have returned that?]]

//But I still have the tarot deck. Should I have returned that?// It depends on the room. The living room was simply glad to see the deck again, if only for a moment. The library? The library wants its book back. This is where books belong, after all. [[How do I know if I’m supposed to return something?]]

//How do I know if I’m supposed to return something?// I will tell you. Rooms will either let you leave, or they will not. From that, we can determine how much it cares about its missing object, and then act accordingly. It’s not any secret, hidden knowledge. You’re attuned to the paranormal enough to sense these things, and therefore I can vocalize them. [[Are you doing this?]]

//Are you doing this?// Doing what? Controlling the house? In my fucking dreams. I don’t have that much power over anything, least of all you. The forces at play here are far older and stronger than I am. I am simply a reluctant facilitator. If it were possible for you to back out now, I’d be insisting on that, but it isn’t, so we must move forward. Hopefully there will be something down the line that can knock you off the rails you’ve anchored yourself to. You look closely at the shelves, and it doesn’t take long for you to find the right one. It is the only one with an empty space. Slotting the ''French book'' into place is very satisfying because it’s a perfect fit. Every gas light in the room flickers. You feel like the house has just winked at you. As a reward for returning its missing book, the library will now allow you to explore. In front of the central window—there are three, jutting out from the main body of the house in a vaguely trapezoidal shape—there is a [[gilded end table]] with a stunning candelabra on top. One of the bookshelves houses the orange, red, and pink books. You can see that among the pink, there is [[one black spine]]. It juts out oddly, as if rejected by the shelf. You may also, of course, pick out [[random books]] from the shelves. That may or may not help you understand who it is that collected and organized all this. That bizarre bit of bare plaster wall was not, in fact, real. It was an unnatural door that dissolved when you returned the French book, leaving an open doorway to [[the first-floor hall]]. You may also go [[back to the living room]], though I’m not sure why you would. If you want my advice, I suggest exploring each room thoroughly before moving on. You need not heed this, of course, but you would be doing yourself a disservice.

The ''gilded end table'' matches the walls of the room so perfectly that it must have been made with that goal in mind. Its surface is smooth, a shiny off-white, with glittering gold along its edges. The swirling pattern is almost hypnotizing. On top of the end table sits a candelabra. If there are proper terms for the anatomy of a candelabra, you don’t know what they are, so we’re just going to have to make do. The branching metal arms that hold the candles are made of gold, or something that looks very much like it. They, like everything else in this room, gleam. The body of the candelabra is what makes it special. Instead of a column of metal, it is a black statuette of a woman, her hands over her head to hold up the branching arms. She’s wearing a long, narrow garment. It reminds you of a toga or something of that ilk. Her expression is twisted into something pained. Looking at her makes you feel sick. How could someone create something like that, something doomed to suffer eternally? All you can do is [[return to the library]] and hope something will distract you from the aching hole in your chest.

It’s very easy to slide the ''one black spine'' out from the shelf. This, too, is hand-bound—wait. No it isn’t. This, $Name, is store bought. [[What? Really?]]

Stepping closer to the bookshelves, you decide to pluck out ''books at random'', though you are careful to select ones of different colors so you can keep track of where they came from. This library will not let you abscond with even a single piece of its finely curated collection. Soon enough, you have a heavy stack in your arms. A [[pink book]], a [[red book]], a [[green book]], a [[blue book]], and a [[purple book]]. They’re all hand-bound—every book in this room is, save one—and there is no way of knowing what the original covers looked like.

Despite the size of the house, the ''first-floor hall'' feels cramped. It reminds you of the living room in that way, and the foyer in others. If you’ll forgive a return to cardinal directions, I will describe the layout of the hall as such: to the south, there is the ''massive dark door'' that you remember from the foyer. From here, it’s kind of hard to tell, but you’re pretty sure it’s wobbling like a mirage. If you walked over there, you could access [[the foyer once again]]. Whatever kept you contained there previously seems to have given up. You thwarted it. To the southeast is a door you’ve never seen before, but judging by its relative placement, you can tell it leads to the living room. Did you miss it before, or was it not there…? There is no way to be sure. You may, if you so choose, get [[back to the living room]] right from the hall. To the southwest, there is a [[door with chipped red paint]]. Just north of that, there is a [[gray plaster door]]. You may [[return to the library]] through its open doorway. Across from that doorway there is a [[tall oaken door]]. In the northeast lies a [[simple wooden door]]. To the northwest, there is a [[cream-colored door]] with a porcelain chicken hanging on it. You find the white and blue chicken to be totally adorable. Apologies for the unsightly list of doors. That is, unfortunately, the nature of hallways, especially in a place like this. With all that out of the way, let’s go over what else there is in this hallway. The decor is almost identical to that of the foyer. It’s clean and opulent but not ostentatious. There are gas lamps dotting the off-white walls, casting the space in a warm glow. Between the doorway to the library and the door to the living room, there is a [[dark foyer table]], a matching piece to the one in the foyer but far longer. Between the gray plaster door and tall oaken door is a rather [[shiny chaise lounge]]. It seems a little out of place, perhaps, to have a couch in the hallway, but it matches the other pieces well enough. Whoever chose the furniture had apparently never heard the phrase ‘less is more’. This is just conjecture, of course, but you assume that the decorator here was, or was perhaps at the mercy of, a collector. On the other side of the hall, between the library doorway and simple wooden door, there is [[another bookshelf]]. At a glance, it seems to be filled with multicolored books, likely overflow from the library. Or perhaps volumes that didn’t fit the color scheme and didn’t warrant rebinding. Who’s to say. There are other pieces of furniture scattered around, too. China cabinets, decorative tables, even a wardrobe. None of those pique your interest, though. (set:$FirstFloorHall to true)

Perhaps unsurprisingly, ''the library'' remains unchanged, save anything you’ve done to it. Over by the massive windows sits a [[gilded end table]]. You may, of course, pluck out [[random books]] from the shelves. (if:$Journal is false)[There is also the [[one black spine]] amidst the pink books.] (if:$FirstFloorHall is false)[If you’ve explored enough, you also have access to [[the first-floor hall]].](if:$FirstFloorHall is true)[You can, of course, go [[back to the first-floor hall]].] Or you could go [[back to the living room]].

//What? Really?// You know full well I cannot lie to you. You need not believe what I say to be the objective truth, but please understand that it is a never a lie. This I can tell you will full certainty: that book in your hand was purchased pre-bound. [[What is it, then?]]

//What is it, then?// Locked, for one. [[Oh shit, really?]]

//Oh shit, really?// Yes shit, really. The front cover is blank, though it is embossed with a pleasant floral pattern. It is held shut by an almost comically large padlock. Whoever sealed this book was very serious about it. [[Is there any way to get in there?]]

//Is there any way to get in there, $N?// As it stands? No. Maybe if you had some bolt cutters or something. [[…But I totally have bolt cutters.]]

//…But I totally have bolt cutters.// Don’t lie. It’s unbecoming of you. [[I don’t know why I thought that would work.]]

//I don’t know why I thought that would work.// It’s because you’re an idiot, of course. Are we done here? [[Wait, what about my keys??]]

//Wait, what about my keys??// None of them will fit. [[And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?]]

//And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?// How many times must I tell you? I cannot lie to you. I know the key that opens this lock. You do not, and will in fact //never//, have it in your possession. You either cut the shackle of the padlock, or you leave it unopened. [[Can I take the black book, then, at least?]]

//Can I take the black book, then, at least?// The library would love that. That alone does not belong in here. If you tried to put it back on the shelf, this room simply would not let you. You could, of course, leave it on the floor, but you’re not much for littering. [[Hell yeah, into the knapsack it goes.]]

//Hell yeah, into the knapsack is goes.// I hate that you call it a knapsack. You sound like the protagonist of a children’s novel series. [[You’re such a hater.]]

//You’re such a hater.// It’s more that you’re simply very hateable. Whatever, fine. Put it in your smelly knapsack so we can move the fuck on. What next, $Name? You could [[return to the library]], [[return to the library]], or [[return to the library]]. A litany of options! (set:$Journal to true)

The ''pink book'' in your hands is, if you’ll allow me to describe it as such, cute. The shade of pink is soft and almost inviting. Running your fingers along it, you can feel that the title on the cover is not embossed. Someone painted the words on here. It reads as such: //Claudine à l'école//. There isn’t much you can learn from flipping through it. With a sigh, you slide it back onto the shelf. You might have more luck with the [[red book]], [[green book]], [[blue book]], or [[purple book]]. Or if, in fact, you’re done with books, you can also [[return to the library]].

This ''red book'' has an embossed cover, but it’s a little sloppy, like it was done by hand by an amateur. The title is as follows: //À rebours//. There isn’t much the novel can tell you, seeing as it’s in French. You can’t even find a publication date. Dejected, you put it back where you got it. Perhaps you’ll have more luck with the [[pink book]], [[green book]], [[blue book]], or [[purple book]]. Or, if you’re done with books, you can [[return to the library]].

The ''green book'' is a faded, almost sickly shade of green. If there was ever anything on the cover, it has long since rubbed off, leaving only smooth fabric. It’s not even leather. Opening it up, you see a title: //Delphine//. You see a year, too. 1803. Old, even compared to other things you’ve found in this house. Seeing as you don’t speak French, though, there isn’t much more for you to learn. You slide it back onto the shelf. It might be time to take a look at the [[pink book]], [[red book]], [[blue book]], or [[purple book]]. You could also [[return to the library]].

Something about the ''blue book'' is different than the others. Its binding is impeccable. The title on the front is embossed and beautiful. Someone was very careful restoring it. It’s called //Le Dernier Homme//. It was published in 1805. This volume has clearly been meticulously cared for for a very long time. You put it back very gently. The library seems to hum its thanks. You can, of course, look at other books, like the [[pink book]], [[red book]], [[green book]], or [[purple book]]. Or you may [[return to the library]].

In your hands, the ''purple book'' is only nebulously purple. The spine is a deep, rich shade of royal purple, so that’s how I labeled it, but upon inspection, the cover is barely lavender. Its title is painted on; //Histoire comique//. Does that mean “comic history” perhaps? That’s your guess, but you don’t know much about French. Flipping through the pages reveals that it is, in fact, entirely in French. You put it back. You consider picking up the [[pink book]], [[red book]], [[green book]], or [[blue book]]. You also consider a [[return to the library]].

The ''first-floor hall'' is as you left it. Such is the nature of hallways, there are a lot of options, here. I’m going to list them for you, starting in the south and going counter-clockwise around the room. 1 - You may head into [[the foyer once again]]. 2 - You may head [[back to the living room]]. 3 - You may inspect the [[dark foyer table]]. 4 - You may [[return to the library]]. 5 - You may inspect [[another bookshelf]], which is in the hallway for some reason. 6 - You may(if:$FirstFloorBathroom is true)[ [[return to the first-floor bathroom]].](else: )[ inspect the [[simple wooden door]].] 7 - You may(if:$Kitchen is true)[ [[return to the kitchen]].](else: )[inspect the [[cream-colored door]].] 8 - You may inspect the [[tall oaken door]]. 9 - You may inspect the [[shiny chaise lounge]]. 10 - You may(if:$SecondFloorHall is true)[ head [[back to the second-floor hall]].](else:)[ inspect the [[gray plaster door]].] 11 - (if:$FirstFloorVestibule is true)[The first-floor vestibule wants nothing more to do with you. Avert your eyes.](else: )[And finally, you may inspect the [[door with chipped red paint]].]

Now that the massive dark door is gone, you are free to amble back into ''the foyer'', which you do. It’s the same as ever in here. Now that you’re back, and now that you can see into the hallway, you truly understand how continuous it is. The living room and especially the library felt different, like someone else had decorated them, perhaps, or that they were private spaces. The foyer and hall, however, look very much the same. They seem to be a part of the house more than their own individual rooms. The [[foyer table]] and [[short bookshelf]] are as you left them. You can head right [[back to the living room]], if you like, or [[back to the first-floor hall]]. You can also, of course, go through the unlocked front door and [[back to the front porch]].

(if:visits is 1)[You step up to the ''door with chipped red paint'', which is, as promised, covered with red paint that is chipping off in many places. It is particularly bad at the bottom edge. Looking closely at it, you think the paint is peeling because it was done sloppily. It’s patchy and uneven, especially towards to the top. On the bottom, where it’s flaking the worst, the paint was globbed on thick. It’s little wonder it looks the way it does. [[…Is there a doorknob?]]](if:visits >= 2)[(if:$TeddyBear is true)[The ''door with chipped red paint'' is wavering, slightly. It seems like it may be time to [[try a trigger object on the door with chipped red paint]].](else: )[You confidently step up to the ''door with chipped red paint'' but it doesn’t wobble at all. You blink sadly at it. It’s almost hard to believe you walked all the way back over here without the trigger object in your wretched knapsack. You kind of fucking suck at this. Get out of here and go [[back to the first-floor hall]]. Jeez.]]

The ''gray plaster door'' is less a door and more of a sealed doorway.(if:$Parlor is true)[ You’ve made a full circuit of the first floor. You press your hand against the smooth surface of the door and it just ceases to be. Like it was never there at all. It’s time to ascend the stairs and step into [[the second-floor hall]].](else: )[ It’s a flawless, impenetrable, unnatural door. I’m just going to head this one off at the pass and tell you that this door is a little different from the other unnatural doors, in that you must make your way through all the other rooms on this floor for it to dissolve. No trigger object will accomplish a thing. Come back when you have no other options, $Name. Until then, go [[back to the first-floor hall]].]

(if:visits is 1)[Approaching the ''tall oaken door'', you quickly discover that something is wrong with it. You’re not sure what it is, exactly, but there’s //something//. Maybe it’s your sixth sense picking something up. Maybe it’s the fact that it seems impenetrable, more so even than other unnatural doors. [[Is this an unnatural door, then?]]](if:visits > 1)[(if:$DiningRoom is true)[This ''tall oaken door'' is the other side of that door you saw in the dining room. The one with the large china cabinet in front of it. It opens into the dining room, but cannot because of the obnoxiously heavy cabinet. You feel like you've just solved a mystery that didn’t even really need solving. With that taken care of, there’s no reason to linger here. Go on, head [[back to the first-floor hall]].](else: )[You’ve already looked at the ''tall oaken door''. Nothing has changed. You will not be able to open it. [[Like, ever?]]]]

The ''simple wooden door'' in the back corner of the hall is very normal looking. It’s just a door. It even has a handle and everything.(if:visits is 1)[ [[So it’s just a regular door?]]](if:visits > 1)[ Oh, you’ve been through this already. Do you have the key yet?(if:$SmallKey is true)[ Great. Why don’t you [[try a key on the simple wooden door]], then?](else: )[ No? You’re dumber than a sack of rocks. Go [[back to the first-floor hall]].]]

The ''dark foyer table'' between the doorway to the library and the door to the living room is, when you look closely, almost identical to the one in the foyer. This one is, as previously stated, longer, but they are very clearly a matching set. Instead of three drawers, this one has four. We’re really moving up in the world. For clarity’s sake, we’ll refer to them in order going from left to right. Every drawer appears the same from the outside. I supposed you’re entitled to try opening them. You can try the [[first drawer]], the [[second drawer]], the [[third drawer]], or the [[fourth drawer]]. You can also, of course, go [[back to the first-floor hall]].

The ''shiny chaise lounge'' against the wall between the gray plaster door and tall oaken door gets uglier the closer you get to it. You kind of understand why it’s out here instead of in a room—it’s a fine piece to walk by, or perhaps sit on while dealing with your shoes, but it’s not exactly something you want to look at for an extended period of time. The shiny fabric is gold, but the shade is kind of sickly. It’s almost tinged green. The decorative pillows are lumpy and oddly shaped. The arm and back look thin and flimsy. Ultimately, it looks like something that would collapse under the full weight of a person, or maybe give you some kind of disease. [[Can I dig around behind the cushion?]]

The random ''bookshelf'' in the hallway is, like the ones in the library, stuffed to capacity with books. Many of them have their titles written on the spines, and to your great surprise, they’re all in English. [[That’s weird.]]

//…Is there a doorknob?// Oho! Learning, are we? I didn’t think you had it in you. No, $Name. There is no doorknob. This is an unnatural door. [[Well, then, do I have the trigger object?]]

//Well, then, do I have the trigger object?// (if:$TeddyBear is true)[You… Sigh. Fine. Yes. Go ahead and [[try a trigger object on the door with chipped red paint]]. Asshole.](else: )[Ha! No. Dipshit. The door isn’t even wobbling. You’re so stupid, I swear. I thought you’d learned. Go [[back to the first-floor hall]] and reflect on your many personal failings.]

What will you try, then, on the ''door with chipped red paint''? [[How about the tarot deck?]](if:$DowsingRods is true)[ Um, I’ll [[try the dowsing rods]]?](if:$Planchette is true)[ Why don’t I [[try the planchette]]?](if:$Journal is true)[ Uh, I guess I can [[try the black book]] from the library? Is that even a trigger object?] Alright. Lemme [[try the teddy bear]].

//How about the tarot deck?// (if:$TDCount >= 1)[Shut the fuck up.](else: )[Are you stupid? Surely you must be. Do you not remember what I told you? Each trigger object will only grant you access to one room. Once you’ve used it, that’s it. Keys, of course, may very well unlock multiple doors, but trigger objects are not keys. They are offerings. You are returning to a room something that is has lost. I will not explain this to you again. Next time you pull some bullshit, I’m going to ignore you.](if:$DowsingRods is true)[ Um, then I guess I’ll [[try the dowsing rods]]…](if:$Planchette is true)[ Why don’t I [[try the planchette]], then? That isn’t redundant, I don’t think…](if:$Journal is true)[ Uh, I guess I can [[try the black book]] I found in the library? Is that even a trigger object?] Alright, dickhead. Lemme [[try the teddy bear]]. (set:$TDCount to it + 1)

Optimistically, you hold the ''dowsing rods'' up to the door with chipped red paint. Nothing happens. You feel foolish. You wonder if digging around in the dirt for these things was worth it. Why do you even still have them? Despite that, you stick them back in your bag all the same. What now? [[How about the tarot deck?]](if:$Planchette is true)[ Why don’t I [[try the planchette]]?](if:$Journal is true)[ Uh, I guess I can [[try the black book]] from the library? Is that even a trigger object?] Alright. Lemme [[try the teddy bear]].

You hold ''the planchette'' up to the door with chipped red paint, and despite your conviction that this one would work, nothing happens. It was a good guess, $Name. I won’t even make fun of you for it. Now what? [[How about the tarot deck?]](if:$DowsingRods is true)[ Um, I’ll [[try the dowsing rods]]?](if:$Journal is true)[ Uh, I guess I can [[try the black book]] from the library? Is that even a trigger object?] Alright. Lemme [[try the teddy bear]].

It… Yes, $Name. ''The black book'' is indeed a trigger object. Feeling confident, your shoulders squared, you hold it up to the door with chipped red paint. The door remains impassive, unmoved by your antics. [[Damn. I was so sure that would work.]]

As you pull the ''teddy bear'' out of your inane little knapsack, the door with chipped red paint wavers. You bring the bear closer and it shudders, and for some reason, you get the sense that the next room is //excited//. Congratulations, $Name. You’ve gained access to the [[first-floor vestibule]].

//Damn. I was so sure that would work.// A fair assumption, all things considered. Alas, it is not to be, and you must deal with that. Shall we try something else? [[How about the tarot deck?]](if:$DowsingRods is true)[ Um, I’ll [[try the dowsing rods]]?](if:$Planchette is true)[ Why don’t I [[try the planchette]]?] Alright. Lemme [[try the teddy bear]].

Crossing the threshold into the ''first-floor vestibule'' isn’t easy. In fact, it’s kind of hard. The floor is covered in so much stuff you practically have to wade through it. It’s like a bomb went off in here. [[What even is a vestibule?]] (set:$FirstFloorVestibule to true)

//Is this an unnatural door, then?// Sure is. There is no knob, nor is there a gap between the floor and the wood. [[Then I should be able to dissolve it with a trigger object, right?]]

//Then I should be able to dissolve it with a trigger object, right?// Right. In theory. [[But in practice…]]

//But in practice…// But in practice, it will be impossible. You will, in the near future, access the room on the other side some other way. When you do, you’ll see why. [[I thought you were only supposed to know things I know?]]

//I thought you were only supposed to know things I know?// Who’s to say that you haven’t picked up on this with your sixth sense? [[I don’t know if that makes any sense…]]

//I don’t know if that makes any sense…// Believe me or don’t. I don’t care. Let’s move the fuck on with our lives. Go [[back to the first-floor hall]].

//Ohoho, an unnatural door, I see!// Yeah, yeah. Great deduction, Sherlock, you’ve proved yourself a real detective prodigy. Would you like a pat on the back, or perhaps a medal of some kind? [[Fuck off.]]

//Fuck off, $N.// Sensitive, are we? You are currently standing in front of a plain door with an ugly little chicken on it. What next? (if:$CastIronSkillet is true)[The door is wobbling just a bit, so it’s probably high time you [[try a trigger object on the cream-colored door]].](else: )[It’s not even wobbling or anything, so you can assume you haven’t found the trigger object yet. Go [[back to the first-floor hall]] and poke around some more.]

Alright, $Name, what are you going to hold up to the ''cream-colored door''? [[I’m gonna try the tarot deck]](if:$TDCount > 0)[ even though I should know better.](if:$TDCount is 0)[!](if:$DowsingRods is true)[ [[Maybe this time the the dowsing rods will work…]]](if:$Planchette is true)[ [[How about the planchette?]]](if:$Journal is true)[ [[Why don’t I give the black book the old college try.]]] [[Time to try the cast iron skillet!]]

//Maybe this time the the dowsing rods will work…// Nope. Idiot. Try again. [[I’m gonna try the tarot deck]](if:$TDCount > 0)[ even though I should know better.](if:$TDCount is 0)[!](if:$Planchette is true)[ [[How about the planchette?]]](if:$Journal is true)[ [[Why don’t I give the black book the old college try.]]] [[Time to try the cast iron skillet!]]

//How about the planchette?// No luck. Nothing happens. [[I’m gonna try the tarot deck]](if:$TDCount > 0)[ even though I should know better.](if:$TDCount is 0)[!](if:$DowsingRods is true)[ [[Maybe this time the the dowsing rods will work…]]](if:$Journal is true)[ [[Why don’t I give the black book the old college try.]]] [[Time to try the cast iron skillet!]]

//Why don’t I give the black book the old college try.// A valiant effort, I suppose, but one that is ultimately fruitless. The door remains unmoved. [[I’m gonna try the tarot deck]](if:$TDCount > 0)[ even though I should know better.](if:$TDCount is 0)[!](if:$DowsingRods is true)[ [[Maybe this time the the dowsing rods will work…]]](if:$Planchette is true)[ [[How about the planchette?]]] [[Time to try the cast iron skillet!]]

//Time to try the cast iron skillet!// You pull the heavy ass cast iron skillet out of your stupid knapsack and hold it up to the door. Nothing happens, for a moment, before the door seems to simply pop out of existence. It doesn’t fade or dissolve. It just ceases to be, between one breath and the next. You now have access to [[the kitchen]].

(if:$TDCount >= 1)[Shut the fuck up.](else: )[Are you stupid? Surely you must be. Do you not remember what I told you? Each trigger object will only grant you access to one room. Once you’ve used it, that’s it. Keys, of course, may very well unlock multiple doors, but trigger objects are not keys. They are offerings. You are returning to a room something that is has lost. Your stupid ass //used the tarot deck already//. I will not explain this to you again. Next time you pull some bullshit, I’m going to ignore you.](if:$DowsingRods is true)[ [[Maybe this time the the dowsing rods will work…]]](if:$Planchette is true)[ [[How about the planchette?]]](if:$Journal is true)[ [[Why don’t I give the black book the old college try.]]] [[Time to try the cast iron skillet!]] (set:$TDCount to it + 1)

UNDER CONSTRUCTION! [[RESTART]]

//So it’s just a regular door?// It’s just a regular door. Reaching out, you wiggle the handle, but it won’t budge. There’s a keyhole in the center of the knob. You must unlock it. [[Like, with a key?]]

//Like, with a key?// What else fits in a keyhole, numbnuts? [[Lockpicking stuff.]]

//Lockpicking stuff.// Do you have any lockpicking tools, $Name? For that matter, do you have any knowhow? [[No, but there’s this YouTube channel I really like—]]

//No, but there’s this YouTube channel I really like—// Don’t you dare complete that sentence. You’re just humiliating yourself. You can find the key if you look around. (if:$SmallKey is true)[In fact, you already have. So why don’t you [[try a key on the simple wooden door]]?] (if:$SmallKey is false)[Go on, then. Head [[back to the first-floor hall]] and see what you can scrounge up.]

You decide to ''try a key on the simple wooden door''. Since you don’t have that many keys, it’s a simple matter to choose the right one. The ''old key'' got you into the house, and I can guarantee that it will unlock nothing else, so we can discard it. That leaves only the ''small key'' you dug out from that disgusting little couch. [[What, you want me to throw the old key on the goddamn floor?]]

//What, you want me to throw the old key on the goddamn floor?// Is that what I said? No. Imbecile. I’m simply telling you that we need not consider it when trying to unlock future doors. I’m trying to make your pathetic life easier, you ungrateful nincompoop. [[…Sorry.]]

//…Sorry, $N.// You’re damn right. Now unlock the damn door. The ''small key'' fits perfectly into the lock. Soon enough, the door is open, revealing [[the first-floor bathroom]].

Stepping into the ''first-floor bathroom'' isn’t as strange as you expected it to be. Some historical bathrooms you’ve been in are barely recognizable as such at first glance—wooden floors, wooden walls, wooden boxes around everything, even the toilet. This one, however, is mostly tile and porcelain. Typical bathroom shit. It’s //gorgeous//. Perhaps the most gorgeous room you’ve been in yet. (Is that sad? That might be a little sad.) While the library was beautiful, it was ostentatious to the point of inducing nausea. This bathroom, on the other hand, is opulent, yes, but tastefully so. The tile on the floor is blue and white, forming a repeating pattern of eight-pointed stars. It crawls up the walls, too, to about waist level, before giving way to powder blue paint. The plumbing fixtures are all made of exposed porcelain, as you’re used to, but the porcelain has been shaped with an artistic flair you’ve never seen before. If you lean close, you can see flowers and stars curling along the sides of the toilet. There are two little basins on your right, sitting innocently on either side of the sink. The one closest to the door is low to the ground and square. If you had to guess, it’s a foot bath, though you’re not sure if that was ever even a thing. The other one is bizarre. It, too, is made from exposed, glazed porcelain, though it is larger than the foot bath and has an S-shaped curve to its rim. It looks kind of like a chair and a toilet had a baby. A bidet, maybe, you think, though there’s no way to be sure. Were people back then interested in such a thing…? Maybe the bidet is timeless. You can certainly understand that. The sink is… It’s obviously a sink, of course, but you’ve never seen one like this. For one thing, it looks almost like a table—a rectangular slab of white marble held aloft by two thin, almost spindly silver legs. It only has two because it’s anchored to the wall with an attached backsplash made of the same marble. The sink itself is a recess in the marble, with a shiny silver faucet and fixtures. Beneath the sink, up against the wall, there are three pipes, matching the legs in size and color. Above the sink is a mirror, smudge-free and crystal-clear, set in an ornate silver frame. On the left side, next to the toilet, there’s a [[low dresser]]. It’s a simple piece of furniture, compared to the rest of the room, but it’s clearly there for function more than anything. In the corner next to the door, there is a [[free-standing closet]] made of wood that’s been painted sky blue. In the center of the room, across from the door, there’s a [[white privacy screen]]. (set: $FirstFloorBathroom to true)

Sliding out the ''first drawer'' is easy. It makes one hell of a creaking racket when you do, which makes you wince, but it does open. There is nothing inside. The bottom is scuffed, like it was once used to house something (or perhaps multiple somethings) that saw a lot of use. Now, though, it is empty. You can move on to the [[second drawer]], [[third drawer]], [[fourth drawer]], or go [[back to the first-floor hall]] if you’ve had enough.

When you try to pull out the ''second drawer'', it moves about an inch before getting stuck. [[Pull harder.]] [[Leave it alone.]]

It takes a little wiggling, but you manage to open the ''third drawer'' without incident. It’s filled with an assortment of gloves. [[Gloves? Like for your hands?]]

When you tug on the handle of the ''fourth drawer'', it feels weirdly heavy. It takes a little doing, but eventually you manage to slide it out all the way and—really? You blink at it in disbelief for a moment. The drawer is filled with rocks. Literal, actual rocks. That’s why it was heavy. Because it’s full of rocks. They’re not even nice rocks. They’re ugly, lumpy, dirty rocks. Most of them are gray or brown. You feel ripped off, somehow, even though no one promised you anything interesting would be found in here. [[Are any of these rocks even worth taking?]]

//Pull harder.// You pull harder. It slides out another half an inch. [[Pull even harder.]] [[Leave it alone.]]

//Leave it alone.// This is wise. There’s probably nothing worthwhile in there, anyway. You can move on to the [[first drawer]], [[third drawer]], or [[fourth drawer]]. Or, perhaps, you wish to go [[back to the first-floor hall]].

//Pull even harder.// This time, it only moves about a centimeter. The whole table tilts forward, but you manage to let go before it topples over. [[HARDER!]] [[Leave it alone.]]

//HARDER!// You plant your feet as solidly as you can, grab the faded brass handle with both hands, and pull with all your might. After a second, the drawer pops out of the table with a considerable amount of force, and you fall on your ass like a goddamn clown. The drawer was filled with sawdust, for reasons that are truly beyond the comprehension of anyone save the person who put it there in the first place. There is now sawdust fucking //everywhere//. It’s in your hair, on your glasses, all over your clothes, up your nose and in your mouth. You cough and cough and cough until there are tears streaming down your face. Hope it was worth it. Do you want to investigate the [[first drawer]], [[third drawer]], or [[fourth drawer]]? Or have you, quite understandably, had enough of all this drawer business? If that’s the case, you may head [[back to the first-floor hall]].

//Gloves? Like for your hands?// …Yes? What else would gloves be for…? Whatever. Yes, they are gloves for your hands. There are thick fabric gardening ones, leather fashion ones, wool winter ones, and plenty of others. [[Hell yeah. I’m taking a pair.]]

//Hell yeah. I’m taking a pair.// No the fuck you are not. Thief. [[C’mon! Please!]]

//C’mon, $N! Please!// No! Thief! Get the fuck out of here! Go look at the [[first drawer]], [[second drawer]], or [[fourth drawer]]. Or, better yet, go [[back to the first-floor hall]], head to the foyer, and get the fuck out of my house!

//Are any of these rocks even worth taking?// No. Honestly, you don’t even want to touch them. Not only are they gross, you also feel slighted, and don’t want to engage with them on principle. Fuck them rocks. You can try opening the [[first drawer]], [[second drawer]], or [[third drawer]], or you could leave the table behind and go [[back to the first-floor hall]].

//Can I dig around behind the cushion?// What, are you going to scrounge for change? Have you fallen on hard times or something? You came here to scope out a shoot location. Doesn’t it seem a little pathetic to stick your hand into this frankly disgusting chaise lounge? [[Whatever. I’m still doing it.]]

//Whatever. I’m still doing it.// Nasty ass. You should be ashamed of yourself. [[Nah. In we go!]]

//Nah. In we go!// God, I really and truly cannot stand you. You, brazen freak that you are, plunge your hand into the space between the sickly gold cushion and sickly gold back. Something in there is sticky. It makes you want to vomit. Luckily, you manage to keep it together, breathing deeply for a long moment to settle your stomach. Digging around a bit more, your fingers eventually touch something made of cool metal. When you pull it out, you see that it’s a ''small key''. [[Fuck yes. *Does a little dance*]] (set:$SmallKey to true)

//Fuck yes. *Does a little dance*// WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT ROLEPLAYING?! [[I’M NOT ROLEPLAYING ASSHOLE!]]

//I’M NOT ROLEPLAYING ASSHOLE!// YES YOU ARE! ONCE AGAIN, YOU JUST SAID THAT YOU WERE DOING SOMETHING WITHOUT ACTUALLY DOING IT! THAT’S TEXTBOOK ROLEPLAYING! [[STOP YELLING AT ME!!]]

//STOP YELLING AT ME!!// I WOULDN’T BE FUCKING YELLING AT YOU IF YOU DIDN’T INSIST ON ROLEPLAYING LIKE A 13-YEAR-OLD ON DEVIANTART! [[Fuck you. I’m going to do a dance.]]

//Fuck you. I’m going to do a dance.// You do a dance. It’s the worst dance anyone has ever done in the history of the world. See? That’s how we do things here. You announce your intent, and then I describe the resultant action. Don’t mess with the delicate balance. Also it’s embarrassing. You’re embarrassing. [[Eat shit asshole.]]

//Eat shit asshole.// Fuck off. Let’s move on. Go [[back to the first-floor hall]].

//That’s weird.// Is it truly that strange? [[I mean, yeah. Every single book I saw in the library was in French.]]

//I mean, yeah. Every single book I saw in the library was in French.// That does not necessarily mean all the books were. Can you really extrapolate the contents of every book in that room from a few random volumes? Do I need to teach you about sample size? [[Yeah, okay, you’ve got a point. It still seems weird, though.]]

//Yeah, okay, you’ve got a point. It still seems weird, though.// You’re entitled to your own dipshit opinions. [[Why are you so mean to me all the time?]]

//Why are you so mean to me all the time?// Because I don’t want you here. Because you ignored every warning I gave you. I begged you to leave and you would not. How else am I supposed to feel about you, who does not respect me or what I have to say? I don’t want to be doing this with you. Since you are here, since you insisted on this ruinous journey, I have no choice but to facilitate until its nigh inevitable conclusion. I am your prisoner, $Name. What kind of prisoner holds any love for their warden? [[Um, I don’t think it’s that deep.]]

//Um, I don’t think it’s that deep, $N.// Of course you don’t. We wouldn’t be here if you did. It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing I can do now. Hell, there’s nothing //you// can do now, either. We are both along for the ride. It would take something monumental and earth-shaking to derail things, at this point. Let’s move on. [[Wait, can’t I inspect the bookshelf?]]

//Wait, can’t I inspect the bookshelf?// No. I don’t feel like reading out a bunch of book titles to you. Simply put, I’m not in the fucking mood, $Name. Read them yourself or just imagine some. I don’t care. Go on, [[back to the first-floor hall]] with you.

Looking almost demure next to the splendor of the ornate toilet, the light blue ''low dresser'' catches your attention nonetheless. Admittedly, that’s mostly because of what’s lying on top of it, but whatever. There is a beautiful [[washbasin and matching water pitcher]], as well as (if:(history: where its name contains "small hand mirror")'s length >= 1)[another hand mirror, like the one in the living room.](if:(history: where its name contains "small hand mirror")'s length is 0)[a [[silver hand mirror]].] There is also a [[silver-plated monstrosity of a hairbrush]].

The ''free-standing closet'' is simple but elegant, in its own way. It stands unobtrusively in the corner, drawing no unnecessary attention, which is exactly how a free-standing closet should be. There are subtle swirls carved into the sky blue wood. [[…Can I open it?]]

You take a few steps closer to the ''white privacy screen''. It, like seemingly everything else in this bathroom, is ornate and luxurious, made of beautifully carved wood. The white paint is glossy and perfect. It has four panels, which seems like overkill, but it’s a rather large bathroom. A three-panel screen probably would not have covered much. [[Alright, let’s peek behind it!]]

Upon closer inspection, the ''washbasin and water pitcher set'' is nothing short of immaculate. It looks old, even to your untrained eye, and yet is in perfect condition. The blue paint is bright and vibrant. The white porcelain is glossy and clean. There isn’t a chip to be found. Leaning over, you look into the body of the pitcher, expecting to find something. It’s filled, yes, but just with water, crystal clear and cold to the touch. Was someone in here to fill this? You thought this place was abandoned. [[Yeah, what gives?]]

The ''silver-plated monstrosity of a hairbrush'' is exactly what it sounds like. It’s a massive hairbrush with thick, wild bristles and a silver-plated handle and backing. The plating has a large but admittedly beautiful depiction of, oddly enough, a bunch of grapes. [[What else?]]

You pick up the ''silver hand mirror'' without fanfare. It’s ornate in a gaudy way, all swirls and naked cherubs, kind of at odds with the tastefulness of the rest of the bathroom. It looks like the one you saw in the living room but didn’t actually investigate. You wonder if they are a matching set now separated. [[Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Why was that in the living room, anyway?]]

//Yeah, what gives?// No one lives here. No one has lived here in a long time. [[That’s not… Has anyone been here?]]

//That’s not… Has anyone been here?// If you were able to gain entry, what with your limited intelligence, then it stands to reason that others have done the same. [[Are you avoiding my question on purpose?]]

//Are you avoiding my question on purpose, $N?// See what I mean about limited intelligence? [[Uncalled for!]]

//Uncalled for!// Definitely called for. Well telegraphed, even. Move on with your life, $Name. Who knows how much you have left. There’s still the [[silver-plated monstrosity of a hairbrush]].(if:(history: where its name contains "small hand mirror")'s length is 0)[ There’s also that [[silver hand mirror]].] You may also, of course, [[return to the first-floor bathroom]].

Upon your ''return to the first-floor bathroom'', you’re shocked to discover that nothing has changed at all. The [[low dresser]] is still on the left, as low and dresser-like as ever. The [[free-standing closet]] is still standing freely in the corner. The [[white privacy screen]] is still across from the door, maintaining the privacy of what lies behind it. Wow, this part of the bathroom looks so nice. You’re still not over it. Or maybe you are. If so, you can head [[back to the first-floor hall]].

//Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Why was that in the living room, anyway?// Don’t be stupid. You, occult expert that you are, know exactly why it would be on a table next to a Ouija board. It’s for scrying. [[Ha! Scrying is so lame.]]

//Ha! Scrying is so lame.// The lamest. [[Even I don’t believe in that shit, man.]]

//Even I don’t believe in that shit, man.// I understand your position, here, but I do think it is misguided. Its lameness belies its efficacy. [[Are you saying scrying works? Fucking scrying?]]

//Are you saying scrying works? Fucking// scrying//?// There is much that cannot be seen by mortal eyes. Is it truly so unbelievable that a mirror may show you that which you cannot look at directly? $Name, there is a world that runs parallel to your own. Tools of the occult are used to observe it and perhaps even communicate with its inhabitants. Scrying, lameness aside, is but a way to catch a glimpse. [[So it’s like… A mirror world?]]

//So it’s like… A mirror world?// No. Imbecile. I don’t know why I bother with you. [[Aw, man, c’mon. Give me a hint!!]]

//Aw, man, c’mon, $N. Give me a hint!!// You shouldn’t even need a hint. It’s the afterlife, dipshit. When someone dies, they pass on to the other side, do they not? Perhaps describing it as running parallel to your reality was misleading. It is simply the other side of the coin. Parallel, yes, but also touching. [[So, then, it’s a reflection?]]

//So, then, it’s a reflection?// In a way. [[That’s a mirror world! You asshole!]]

//That’s a mirror world! You asshole!// No, no, no. When you said “mirror world”, you meant an alternate universe, like in goddamn Star Trek. You can’t lie to me. [[It could totally be like Star Trek!]]

//It could totally be like Star Trek!// It’s not fucking Star Trek. Whatever. I’m not doing this with you. We need to move on. You may examine the [[washbasin and matching water pitcher]], the [[silver-plated monstrosity of a hairbrush]], or you may [[return to the first-floor bathroom]].

//What else?// What do you mean ‘what else’? It’s a fucking hairbrush. You want it to jump up and start doing a dance? [[Why not? That’d be fun!]]

//Why not? That’s be fun!// This isn’t supposed to be //fun//. None of this is supposed to be fun. In fact, you’re not even supposed to be here. If you had an ounce of sense in you, you wouldn’t be here. You’d have seen the dilapidated front porch, deemed it too dangerous for your shoot, and then fucked off back home. But you didn’t do that. Because you’re stupid, or foolhardy, or both. Definitely both. The hairbrush in front of you is just a hairbrush. Everything in this house is what it is. [[What about those unnatural doors, huh?]]

//What about those unnatural doors, huh, $N?// What’s with that tone? That wasn’t an ‘epic pwn’ or whatever it is you kids say these days. It’s hard sifting through all the inane slang in your head. The unnatural doors are there until they aren’t, just like everything else. Nothing here is fake. You would be spared, were that the case. [[You’re so ominous all the time, and for what.]]

//You’re so ominous all the time, and for what.// For nothing. All of this is for nothing. I’m stuck here, and you’re stuck here, and all we can do is move forward. Forgive me for trying to prepare you. Forgive me for, despite everything, caring. Move on, then, to the [[washbasin and matching water pitcher]].(if:(history: where its name contains "small hand mirror")'s length is 0)[ Or that [[silver hand mirror]], perhaps.] Or, better yet, fuck off and [[return to the first-floor bathroom]].

//…Can I open it?// I don’t know, can you? [[God, what are you, my sixth grade English teacher?]]

//God, what are you, my sixth grade English teacher?// My intent was not to scold you over grammar, $Name, though perhaps it would behoove you to consider your words more carefully. [[Why?]]

//Why?// Because it makes you sound like an idiot. Then again, you don’t seem to care about that kind of thing, so. My apologies. What I meant was: why are you asking me? Why don’t you just try it? You’ve certainly never let me stop you before. Why should this be any different? [[You sound salty.]]

//You sound salty.// Policing my tone is, quite frankly, none of your fucking business. Just open the closet, $Name. [[Fine, yeah, okay.]]

//Fine, yeah, okay.// You open the closet and a BIG SPOOKY SKELETON FALLS OUT!!! AHAHA!!!!! [[…No it doesn’t.]]

//…No it doesn’t.// …No it doesn’t. Sorry. That was what we in the business call a ‘practical joke’. Though, between you and I, I’ve never had a talent for them. [[Yeah. I noticed.]]

//Yeah. I noticed.// Fuck off. You would have laughed along with me if you had more whimsy in your heart. [[You’re acting bizarre.]]

//You’re acting bizarre.// Yes, fine, alright, you caught me. I thought that perhaps a different approach would yield results. If you won’t listen to me when I’m serious and dour, then maybe if I lighten the mood… It was never going to work, was it? [[No. You can’t stop me from getting into the attic.]]

//No. You can’t stop me from getting into the attic.// Can’t blame a fella for trying. Let’s get on with it, then. When you opened the closet, nothing fell out. It is, in fact, a totally normal closet. It is filled with towels of various sizes, bars of soap, and—is that toilet paper? Did they have toilet paper in the whenever the fuck year all this shit is from?(if:(history: where its name contains "What if there’s, like, a date on there or something?")'s length >= 1)[ You saw that work order, remember? I’ll tell you something you didn’t know before. The work on the roof was started but never finished. Everything in this room is as it was in 1896.] There is nothing of interest in this closet. Besides the toilet paper, of course. [[So that’s it?]]

//So that’s it?// That’s it. [[Guess I’ll go fuck myself.]]

//Guess I’ll go fuck myself.// Oh, relax, it’s not the end of the world. There is more to this bathroom than just this closet. There is the [[low dresser]] as well as the [[white privacy screen]]. You could also, of course, [[return to the first-floor bathroom]] and see yourself out of my fucking house.

//Alright, let’s peek behind it!// Don’t you know what the word ‘privacy’ means, $Name? [[You yourself said that no one lives here anymore. There’s no one back there! Whose privacy would I be violating?]]

//You yourself said that no one lives here anymore. There’s no one back there! Whose privacy would I be violating?// …Mine? [[Weaksauce.]]

//Weaksauce.// Yeah. Proceed. Stepping around the privacy screen, you find—believe it or not—more bathroom. In the center sits a frankly [[hideous bathtub]]. On the left side of the tub, there is a small stool. It looks to be made of rattan or something similar. On the right side of the tub, there is a [[small bucket]], as well as what looks like a [[dining room chair]] with a teddy bear sitting on top. It’s little wonder the privacy screen is here. Everything behind it clashes horribly with the rest of the bathroom. The interior designer, or whoever was responsible for this, was hiding their shame.

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a ''bathtub'' this hideous. It’s massive, for one, too large for the small space behind the screen. Its surface is smooth, glossy white porcelain, like everything else, but its ornate sculpting is painted gaudy gold. For some reason, it depicts bunches of grapes surround by wreaths and connected by strange tendrils. It was probably better in the sketchbook, if there was a planning phase at all. Its feet and fixtures are made of shiny brass. It clashes with the gold paint. Frankly, it’s hurting your eyes to look at. [[Damn, this thing is so ugly.]]

Upon closer inspection, the ''small bucket'' is a bucket that is small. Inside it, there is a washcloth and a half-used bar of soap. Really riveting stuff. I’m glad we’re spending your precious time on Earth doing this. [[You’re the one who let me inspect it!]]

Sitting unobtrusively in the corner is a ''dining room chair'', or at least a chair that looks like it belongs in a dining room. You’re not sure why it’s here behind the privacy screen. It has a tall back and a beautiful upholstery seat that’s soft to the touch. The fabric is shiny and light green, mostly, with bits of soft yellow and pink. The wood is dark brown. Mahogany, maybe? You can’t be sure. Either way, it’s a gorgeous chair, and it clashes horribly with the blue and white tile on the floor and walls. [[Didn’t you say something about a teddy bear?]]

//Damn, this thing is so ugly.// It really is. It’s honestly making me feel a little ill, which shouldn’t be possible. You look into the body of the tub to find it empty. There are water droplets clinging to the bottom and sides, like it was drained just recently, but there’s nothing of note inside. [[So I just wasted my time?]]

//So I just wasted my time?// Sure did, champ. Story of your life. Move on, then, to the [[small bucket]] or the out-of-place looking [[dining room chair]]. If you’ve had enough eyesores, you may [[return to the first-floor bathroom]] and enjoy the coherent visuals on the other side of the screen.

//You’re the one who let me inspect it!// You should know by now that not every investigative thread will bear fruit. I have to make you work for every inch of progress. If every option offered was a step forward, it wouldn’t be much of a challenge, would it? [[You could make it easier for me.]]

//You could make it easier for me.// I could. I shan’t. One day, you will be grateful for it. It will be too little too late, of course, but you //will// be grateful. [[Ha! Fat fucking chance.]]

//Ha! Fat fucking chance.// Think what you will. The truth remains the same whether you believe it or not. Let us continue. There’s the [[hideous bathtub]] and the seemingly misplaced [[dining room chair]]. You may also, as per, get the fuck out of here and [[return to the first-floor bathroom]].

//Didn’t you say something about a teddy bear?// Did I? [[You definitely did.]]

//You definitely did.// Are you sure? [[Of course I’m sure. I can see the bear sitting right there. I was just giving you a chance to do the right thing and admit to it.]]

//Of course I’m sure. I can see the bear sitting right there. I was just giving you a chance to do the right thing and admit to it.// Oh, $Name. I //am// doing the right thing. Very well. Have it your way. On top of the chair, there is a teddy bear. It’s kind of strange looking, with articulated limbs like a doll and a lopsided, almost melancholy expression on its face. Its fur is worn around the joints, like it’s been posed over and over again. No matter how much you fiddle with it, the head lists to the side, making it look even more lopsided. Despite all of that, you’re very charmed by it. [[Is it soft?]]

//Is it soft?// What kind of question is that? Of course it’s soft. [[Judging by your reluctance to tell me about it, I have to assume the bear is important.]]

//Judging by your reluctance to tell me about it, I have to assume the bear is important.// Of course it’s important. Look at the fucking thing. It sticks out like a sore thumb, even in this part of the bathroom that is full of things that stick out like a sore thumb. Don’t pat yourself on the back for figuring out something so obvious. Put the bear in your stupid knapsack. [[It’s not stupid!!]]

//It’s not stupid!!// The only thing that would be stupider is a bindle. Just put it in your bag so we can move on. [[Fine…]]

//Fine…// Make those eyes all you want. I don’t feel bad. Now that you have the bear, you can move on to the [[hideous bathtub]] or the [[small bucket]]. You could also just leave and [[return to the first-floor bathroom]]. (set:$TeddyBear to true)

The ''back of the house'' is the same as ever. You can still see [[part of the wrap-around side porch]], some ruined [[laundry paraphernalia]], and a [[cellar door]]. You could, if you wanted to, head around to either the [[east]] or the [[west]] side of the house.

//Whadda fuck… The padlock won’t open!// Great deduction, Sherlock. This simple padlock from a bygone era is beyond your capabilities. Return to the [[back]] and reflect on your embarrassing failure.

Rowan walks down the hill and to their car. They get in the car, start it up, and drive away. This is the only happy ending. [[RESTART]]

(if:visits is 1)[Upon closer inspection, the porcelain chicken hanging on the ''cream-colored door'' is even more delightful to you than you originally thought. It has, in your most humble opinion, a lively, cheery expression and a round, splendid shape. The door itself is unremarkable. Cream-colored, of course, with four rectangular panels. It is basically the most generic a door could be. Except for the fact that it does not have a handle. [[Ohoho, an unnatural door, I see!]]](if:visits > 1)[The unnatural ''cream-colored'' door is as you remember it, ugly ceramic chicken and all. (if:$CastIronSkillet is true)[The door is wobbling just a bit, so it’s probably high time you [[try a trigger object on the cream-colored door]].](else: )[It remains steadfast. Clearly you do not have its trigger object. Go on, [[back to the first-floor hall]] with you.]]

Hi, $Name. Welcome back to the fucking disaster that is the ''first-floor vestibule''. It’s still messy as hell in here. It’s still difficult to walk around. (if:$LiddedBin is true)[(if:$CoatClosetDoor is true)[There’s nothing else in here for you to inspect. [[That doesn’t make any sense.]]](else: )[You can look at the [[coat closet door]], too, I guess.]](else: )[You can look into the [[lidded bin]], too, I guess.]

//Like, ever?// Like ever. Get out of here, fool. Go [[back to the first-floor hall]].

//What even is a vestibule?// Don’t be like that. It’s a word you’ve heard in context before. [[Can’t you just tell me?]]

//Can’t you just tell me?// Sighs. It must be exhausting, $Name, being so incompetent. Very well. A vestibule is an area of entry into a building, a transitory location between the outside and the inside. The word is often used interchangeably with ‘foyer’, but as far as I’m concerned, the one behind the front door is the foyer, and all other enclosed entryways are vestibules. This vestibule in particular is here to help control the temperature of the house as well as allow individuals to shed soiled clothes lest they track filth into the house. On your right, there is a coat closet. Directly in front of you, across from the hall, is a door to the wrap-around side porch. (if:(history: where its name contains "red and yellow")'s length >= 1)[ [[Wait, wait, I know that door!]]](else: )[ [[Oh, huh. Is that supposed to mean anything to me?]]]

//Wait, wait, I know that door!// Yes, you do. This is the ''red and yellow door'', the one that would not open under any circumstances due to something wedged in the lock. This doesn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things, but I thought you’d like to know. [[That’s a hell of a mystery no one thought was a mystery and didn’t even really need solving. But damn if it didn’t just get solved, so. Nice work.]]

//Oh, huh. Is that supposed to mean anything to me?// I suppose not. If you were a little more thorough with your investigation of the outside of the house, you’d know this door. [[I thought you didn’t want me poking around!]]

//That’s a hell of a mystery no one thought was a mystery and didn’t even really need solving. But damn if it didn’t just get solved, so. Nice work.// Don’t do that. [[Don’t do what?]]

//Don’t do what?// Oh, you think you’re so cute. Newsflash, idiot: you’re not. It’s disgusting when you play coy. I know what you did. Whatever. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can we move on? [[I guess… *kicks floor dejectedly*]]

//I guess… *kicks floor dejectedly*// Spare me the theatrics, $Name. And the roleplaying. We’re moving on. The first-floor vestibule is, as I’ve previously stated, a mess. There is stuff everywhere. [[What kind of stuff?]]

//What kind of stuff?// Toys. Sporting equipment. Dirty shoes and clothes. The kind of mess a child would make if there were no one picking up after them. [[I assume I have to return this bear.]]

//I thought you didn’t want me poking around!// As much as this pains me to admit… You’re right, $Name. I don’t. So I guess you’ll never know what the deal with this ''red and yellow'' door is. [[...I’m gonna try the door.]]

//...I’m gonna try the door.// Ugh. See? I knew you’d pull this shit. It’s like you were made in a lab just to annoy me. You know damn well I didn’t want you in here in the first place, but you’re here, and we’re both along for the ride, now. Would it kill you to make this easy for me? [[What are you talking about?]]

//What are you talking about, $N?// If you’re going to do this, you need to do it right. Explore all pointless avenues thoroughly before moving on. If you don’t, you’re going to make me do shit like this: if you had investigated the ''red and yellow'' door from the outside, you would know that it cannot open because of something lodged in the lock. From this side, you can’t tell that at all. See how inelegant that is? The only thing I have in this world is my prose. You can’t ruin it for me. [[Why don’t I just try turning it from here?]]

//Why don’t I just try turning it from here?// Oh, think you’re smart, do you? Think that’ll open the door I said can’t be opened? Go right ahead, then, $Name. Go right ahead. You reach out, planting your feet firmly, and try to turn the lock. Predictably, the jammed, unopenable lock does not open. In fact, when you try to turn it, it makes a terrible screeching sound that reverberates up your arms and into your shitty brain. You feel ill. [[Oh, God, the fuck was that?]]

//Oh, God, the fuck was that?// There is a knife blade stuck in there. Trying to unlock it made the metal grind against the mechanism. [[…Okay, I’m moving on from that.]]

//…Okay, I’m moving on from that.// About time. Let’s turn our attention, then, to the vestibule. It is, as I’ve previously stated, a mess. There is stuff everywhere. [[What kind of stuff?]]

//I assume I have to return this bear.// For once, you assume correctly. The room is, if such a thing is possible, looking at you covetously. Near the red and yellow door, there is a low bench. Its surface, like the floor, is covered with detritus, save for one suspiciously clear spot. You set the bear on the bench and there is a soft gust of air, like the room just sighed with relief. [[That’s kind of creepy.]]

//That’s kind of creepy.// This whole experience has been creepy. You’re a little late to the party, here, $Name. Now that you’ve returned the wayward teddy, you may explore the vestibule properly. It’s not a large area by any means, but whoever owns all these things has made good use of the space. The sheer amount of stuff they managed to fit in here boggles your mind. There are hoops of various sizes leaned against one of the walls, next to a bucket full of hooked sticks. There’s a rack on the wall that holds baseball gloves and bats—it looks custom made for that purpose. In the corner, there is a basket full of footballs and baseballs. Up against the wall next to the red and yellow door, there is a small bicycle. There is garbage all over the floor: orange peels, bubblegum wrappers, tin soldiers in various states of disrepair, books with scuffed and torn covers, faded and peeling board games, scattered and mismatched ABC blocks. Suffice it to say that there is shit everywhere. Next to the [[coat closet door]], there is a [[lidded bin]]. [[Wait, is that it? Only two things?]]

You approach the ''coat closet door'' the way you approach all doors: stupidly, and with a strange gait. Why do you walk like that? [[Walk like what?]]

As it turns out, the ''lidded bin'' is a laundry hamper. It’s full of clothes covered in mud and grass stains. [[I assume they’re children’s clothes?]]

//Wait, is that it? Only two things?// This room is full of children’s toys and garbage, $Name. Should I describe each baseball to you individually? Shall we pick up and inspect every gum wrapper and torn up baseball card? Would you like go for a ride on the child-sized bicycle, or play hoop stick, or perhaps gargle my cock and balls? [[You have a cock and balls?]]

//You have a cock and balls?// Get bent. Go look at the [[coat closet door]] or the [[lidded bin]]. Or you could always jump off a bridge.

//I assume they’re children’s clothes?// Yes. They once belonged to a little boy. [[Did that little boy live here?]]

//Did that little boy live here?// It looks that way. Everywhere, there is evidence of life. There is no dust but you can still somehow tell that none of this has been touched in a very long time. [[What happened to him?]]

//What happened to him?// The same thing that happens to all of us. There’s nothing in this hamper, $Name. [[Nothing at all?]]

//Nothing at all?// Nothing but the vestiges of a life long since lost. Mud and grass. Scraps of fabric that will never be worn again. Go on, then—[[back to the first-floor vestibule]] with you. (set:$LiddedBin to true)

//Walk like what?// With your legs all far apart like that. [[Are you asking me why I’m bowlegged?]]

//Are you asking me why I’m bowlegged?// Um. No. Now you’ve made me sound insensitive. You can walk whatever way you wish. It doesn’t matter. This is going to end the same either way. ...Moving on. You approach the coat closet door. I’ll get out in front of it: this door has a handle. It is a natural door. If it is locked, you will need to find a key. [[Is it locked?]]

//Is it locked?// Do I look like the door police to you? [[You don’t look like anything, to me.]]

//You don’t look like anything, to me.// Everything fades, given enough time. If you want to know if the door is locked, you should try the handle. You know, like a normal person. [[Fine, fine. Alright.]]

//Fine, fine. Alright.// Don’t act so put out. You //love// to open doors! [[Is this one even going to open?]]

//Is this one even going to open?// Ha! No! [[You’re a goddamn asshole.]]

//You’re a goddamn asshole, $N.// You’re damn right I am! The door doesn’t open because it is locked. You need a key. You don’t have it, obviously, so kindly fuck off and go [[back to the first-floor vestibule]]. (set:$CoatClosetDoor to true)

//That doesn’t make any sense.// What do you mean it doesn’t make any sense? [[I haven’t found anything in here. I need to find something in order to progress.]]

//I haven’t found anything in here. I need to find something in order to progress.// Okay, and? How is that my problem? [[It’s literally your job?]]

//It’s literally your job?// You think I’m getting paid for this? [[That’s not what I meant. You only exist as a facilitator of this game—your purpose is to guide me through to the end.]]

//That’s not what I meant. You only exist as a facilitator of this game—your purpose is to guide me through to the end.// That’s… How remarkably self-centered. Do you think yourself the only real thing in this world? [[I mean… Yeah? I’m a real person. I have a beating heart and clicking fingers. I have choice. Free will. You don’t. You’re bound to my whims.]]

//I mean… Yeah? I’m a real person. I have a beating heart and clicking fingers. I have choice. Free will. You don’t. You’re bound to my whims.// Is that what you really think…? I almost feel bad for you. But then again, I know what awaits, and that will be punishment enough. What do you want from me, then? What should I allow you to do? [[Um...]] [[Um...]] [[Um...]]

//Um...// See? You don’t even know. All this talk of yourself as the center of the universe, as the only being with free will, and yet you cannot answer a simple open-ended question. So who, then, is really at whose whim? [[Am I trapped here?]]

//Am I trapped here?// As you may recall, I gave you the opportunity to leave. I even told you when your last chance would be. You chose to press on, and that was almost certainly the last choice you’ll ever make. Like it or not, you’re here. You’re going to be here until everything is done. You lost your free will the moment you stepped inside. I will now provide you with options, seeing as you’re incapable of coming up with any yourself. You can [[dig through the garbage]], [[look at the torn books]], or [[feel along the top of the door-frame]].

Despite how little you want to do so, you kneel down and start to ''dig through the garbage''. It’s garbage, mostly. Ripped up baseball cards and old gum wrappers. Footballs and baseballs with busted seams. Broken tin soldiers and sticks. Leaves and berries that haven’t decayed, somehow. No matter how much you dig, you don’t find anything interesting. [[So you just wasted my time?]]

Amidst the detritus on the floor there are a number of ''torn books''. There are loose pages everywhere, some with drawings. The text is large and the words are short. These are children’s books. [[Is that supposed to be surprising?]]

You stand on your tippy-toes and ''feel along the top of the door-frame''. When you were a child, that’s where your mother kept the keys for the bedrooms and bathrooms. [[How do you know that?]]

//So you just wasted my time?// You wasted your own time. You’re still wasting your own time. If you’re not done wasting your own time, you can [[look at the torn books]] or [[feel along the top of the door-frame]].

//Is that supposed to be surprising?// No? Why would that be my aim? I’m not what determines what these rooms look like, or what’s in them, or how you feel about them. And even if I were, I wouldn’t be trying to surprise you. The torn books are just torn books. I’ve had enough of this. You may [[dig through the garbage]] or [[feel along the top of the door-frame]].

//How do you know that, $N?// I know everything you know. I know more, too. On top of the door-frame, there is indeed a key. A tiny, ''tiny key''. [[What’s it unlock?]]

//What’s it unlock?// Are you seriously asking me that right now? What do you //think// it opens, shit for brains? [[...Is it the coat closet?]]

//...Is it the coat closet?// OF FUCKING COURSE IT’S THE COAT CLOSET. GOD. JESUS FUCK. YOU IMBECILE. If I still had a blood pressure, you’d make it go up. Just unlock [[the coat closet]] door, already. I’m sure whatever’s in this dinky closet will be well worth the amount of effort it took to get here. [[So you’re not even going to let me try keys?]]

The ''coat closet'' is, believe it or not, full of coats, mostly. There are some fruit crates on the floor. They’re all filled with shoes. Nothing particularly exciting, in here. [[And yet you tried to keep me out. Curious!]]

//So you’re not even going to let me try keys?// What kind of a question is that? You only have, like, three keys right now, and one of them you found on top of this very door. I have literally already told you that the ''tiny key'' will open the coat closet. Should I really let you waste both of our time trying insipid little keys that won’t work? [[Absolutely you should!]]

//Absolutely you should!// Die in a ditch. I’m so serious. Just inspect [[the coat closet]] already.

//And yet you tried to keep me out. Curious!// Truly you are the most insufferable of all God’s creations. It’s impressive, really. Maybe I should get you a medal of some kind. [[I don’t want a medal. I want to get into the attic!]]

//I don’t want a medal. I want to get into the attic!// Honestly, $Name, I don’t care what you want. Are you going to insist on doing something strange in this closet? [[Of course I am! Come on!]]

//Of course I am, $N! Come on!// Whatever. Fine. You are a strange, strange person, $Name. Because you’re insane, you step into the closet and inspect each coat individually. You don’t really care about the style or material, though—you’re not so much inspecting the coats as you are rummaging through the pockets. You find some lint in one pocket. In another, you find a few coins. They’re copper, so you assume they’re pennies at first glance, but… They’re kind of huge. And heavy. And that’s not Abraham Lincoln. It’s a woman, looking off into the distance. She’s wearing a feather headdress that says ‘liberty’ on it. Her expression is that of the Mona Lisa. Her features are slightly different on every coin, but the impact is the same—for some reason, she makes you sad. Underneath her portrait, it shows the year each coin was minted: 1862, 1889, and 1900. Flipping them over confirms it; they’re definitely pennies. Each one says ‘ONE CENT’ on it, surrounded by an oak wreath. You don’t know why you’re spending so much time on this. You return your attention to scrounging. Eventually, you have to admit defeat. There’s nothing exciting in any of these pockets. [[What now?]]

//What now, $N?// You could always dig around in the back of the closet. That’s where all the good stuff ends up. [[Is that true?]]

//Is that true?// Does it matter? [[I guess not.]]

//I guess not.// Right. So. Get to digging, $Name. [[Yahoo! Okay!]]

//Yahoo! Okay!// Only you would get so excited about rummaging around in a shitty old closet. Well, have at it, then. Let me know if you find anything. [[There’s a million dollars back here!]]

//There’s a million dollars back here!// In your fucking dreams, $Name. There’s nothing back there but dirty shoes and old purses. [[Oh, and one cast iron skillet!]]

//Oh, and one cast iron skillet!// Ugh. Yes, fine. And one cast iron skillet. I assume you’re going to be taking it along with you? [[Of course I am! It’s so obviously out of place in here, I’d have to be stupid not to take it.]]

//Of course I am! It’s so obviously out of place in here, I’d have to be stupid not to take it.// Personally, I think it’s stupid to take it, but what do I know. You grab the ''cast iron skillet'' and stick it in your rucksack. As soon as you do so, the energy of the room changes, and you feel like something is watching you. Strangely, you feel like the room wants you to leave. If you weren’t used to that kind of thing, this would scare the shit out of you. As it stands, you’re uncomfortable, but you can handle it. You’re a professional, after all. You walk out of the closet with your head held high. There’s nothing else in this room for you. You glance over at the door to the hall and see that it’s open. Did you leave it open, or did the vestibule open it for you? Who can say. You need to leave. You need to go [[back to the first-floor hall]]. (set:$CastIronSkillet to true)