mansion

You are standing outside of a mansion. [[What kind of mansion?]] [[I don’t care about this. I’m leaving.]] (set:$Key to false) (set:$FrontDoor to false)(set:$PlainWoodenDoor to false)(set:$FrenchBook to false)(set:$DowsingRods to false)(set:$RightDrawer to false)(set:$TarotDeck to false)(set:$AbnormallyWideDoor to false)(set:$Journal to false)(set:$FirstFloorHall to false)(set:$LivingRoom to false)(set:$TeddyBear to false)(set:$TDCount to 0)(set:$Parlor to false)(set:$CastIronSkillet to false)(set:$SmallKey to false)

//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? 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? I suppose it isn’t my business. You ended up back here, after all, 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? 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 historic structures 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 work. 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. The house doesn’t seem to be in good condition, showing its age in the worst way. 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. 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. 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. Probably 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. [[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 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. 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. There is, in fact, another porch here. It’s long, wrapping around the far corner and out of sight, towards [[the back]]. This porch is in slightly better condition than the one in front of the house. 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 housed 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]]

//Will I be okay going in there?// If I do not have the power to hurt 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, at 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 literally hate you so bad. [[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) (set: $Key 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 forming a rectangle—six orange, six light green. 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:$Key is false)[ Without a key, though, there’s not much you can do. It’s time to return to [[the back]].](if:$Key is true)[ [[Lemme try a key on the back door!]] You can also explore [[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 door]] if you so choose.

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

You head ''around that corner'' toward the rest of the side porch. Be careful. There is a missing floorboard. [[Thanks.]]

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.

The ''cellar door'' is made of light, worn wood. It’s actually a double door situation, if we’re being nitpicky here, 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?]]

//Will I be alright going in there?// If I do not have the power to hurt you, then this house most certainly does not either. You can traverse the porch worry-free. All told, there is not much to this part of the porch, besides the [[back door]] to the house. There is more [[around that corner]]. Or, if you’ve had enough, you can head into [[the back]].

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? A shackle is the curved metal bar of a padlock. In this case, 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]].

//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.]]] [[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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

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!]]

//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.

//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:$Key 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.

//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 someone spilled herbicide into it. 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]]. (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 in the 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 the [[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.]] (if:$PlainWoodenDoor is true)[Wait, you’ve already unlocked this. You can go straight into [[the parlor]], you nincompoop. No need to bruise your coccyx further.]

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:$FirstFloorHall is true)[ You may, of course, head [[back to the first-floor hall]]. Or, perhaps, go [[back to the living room]]. You could even poke around the [[foyer table]] or [[short bookshelf]]. You may also, and are in fact highly encouraged to, exit the house and go [[back to the front porch]].](else-if:$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. You may, and are in fact highly encouraged to, exit the house and go [[back to the front porch]].](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. You may, and are in fact highly encouraged to, exit the house and go [[back to the front porch]].]}

//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:$RightDrawer is false)[You pull on the handle, but the ''drawer on the right'' does not open. It is locked, somehow. Leaning closer, you squint at the beautiful wood, but you don’t see a keyhole of any kind. There must be some other way to unlock this drawer. Until you figure it out, your only options are to look at the [[drawer on the left]], the [[drawer in the middle]], or [[return to the foyer]].](if:$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?]]]

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 it’s genuinely unreal. 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. 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? 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, mirrors, 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. 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, 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:$AbnormallyWideDoor is false)[ You may also inspect a door that somehow escaped your notice when first you stepped foot into this room. It is an [[abnormally wide door]] with a delicate, beautiful pattern carved into it. Frankly, it sticks out like a sore thumb. You have no idea how you missed it.](else-if:$FirstFloorHall is true)[ You may also head [[back to the first-floor hall]] or even [[return to the library]].](else: )[ You may also [[return to the library]].]}

//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 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 hurt you, right now. 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)[ It seems to match the Ouija Board you looked at earlier, but it’s unclear how true that is, seeing as they’re both custom pieces.] [[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 have to let me do it!!]]

//You have to let me do it!!// No I most certainly do not. You have a severe and perhaps incurable misunderstanding of how things work. If you want to act, 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:$FrenchBook is false)[Come back when you have an appropriate offering. Go on, [[back to the living room]] with you.](if:$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!]]]]

//The tarot deck!// Nope. You already used that one. Try again, dipshit. [[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 existence. You recoil, blinded by the 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!]] [[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. 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 there 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 inspect the [[simple wooden door]]. 7 - You may inspect the [[cream-colored door]]. 8 - You may inspect the [[tall oaken door]]. 9 - You may inspect the [[shiny chaise lounge]]. 10 - You may inspect the [[gray plaster door]]. 11 - 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]].

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?]]

The ''gray plaster door'' is less a door and more of a sealed doorway. It’s a flawless, impenetrable, unnatural door. (if:$Parlor is false)[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, $Name. Until then, go [[back to the first-floor hall]].](if:$Parlor is true)[Ah, hello. I think it’s time we left this floor behind. Time to ascend the stairs and step into [[the second-floor hall]].]

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?]]

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:$SmallKey is false)[ No? You’re dumber than a sack of rocks. Go [[back to the first-floor hall]].](if:$SmallKey is true)[ Great. Why don’t you [[try a key on the simple wooden door]], then?]]

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!]]

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:$TeddyBear is true)[You… Sigh. Fine. Yes. Go ahead and [[try a trigger object on the door with chipped red paint]]. Asshole.](if:$TeddyBear is false)[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:$TDCount is 1)[Are you stupid? Surely you must be. Do you not remember what I told you? Each trigger object will only grant you access to one room. Once you’ve used it, that’s it. Keys, of course, may very well unlock multiple doors, but trigger objects are not keys. They are offerings. You are returning to a room something that is has lost. I will not explain this to you again. Next time you pull some bullshit, I’m going to ignore you.] (if:$TDCount > 1)[Shut the fuck up.](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]].

//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 false)[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.](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]].]

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:$TDCount is 1)[Are you stupid? Surely you must be. Do you not remember what I told you? Each trigger object will only grant you access to one room. Once you’ve used it, that’s it. Keys, of course, may very well unlock multiple doors, but trigger objects are not keys. They are offerings. You are returning to a room something that is has lost. Your stupid ass //used the tarot deck already//. I will not explain this to you again. Next time you pull some bullshit, I’m going to ignore you.] (if:$TDCount > 1)[Shut the fuck up.](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)

//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]].

unfinished. oops! [[RESTART]]

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.