[Group One] And we'll burn like stars in the fires of the fall...
In the wee hours of morning, those who look will find the house has restored itself.
Mostly.
Scorch marks bleed through the friendly white paint, fading in and out of sight. The sounds of friends laughing and talking inside drifts out into the clearing as though the sound is being played from a distant radio that can’t quite tune properly. There are also incorporeal shapes starting to appear between the trees, scowling faces that vanish when you try to get a proper look at them. Some of them are carrying makeshift weapons. Some of them are carrying lanterns, despite the dawn.
The door of the house swings open and a young woman with flowers in her hair steps out. She laughs and waves to the people outside. “What are you waiting for? We’re going to start without you.”
Another wave and she disappears inside. A man watches from ten feet back in the trees, murder in his eyes. If approached, he won’t react--just continue staring at the house, unmoving and intangible.
[OOC: The Shades are the memories of former Wood-dwellers, left behind in places of great joy or sadness. Given life and substance by the Wood, they’re trapped in a single moment, living out the script of their memory over and over again. And now you’re a part of it. Play along or pay the price--they turn violent fast, and only become corporeal enough to damage at the height of the memory’s most severe emotions.
Go in the house and join the play inside, or wait in the woods and see who the approaching strangers might be, but either way, once you’re a part of the play, they won’t willingly let you leave before the end.]
Mostly.
Scorch marks bleed through the friendly white paint, fading in and out of sight. The sounds of friends laughing and talking inside drifts out into the clearing as though the sound is being played from a distant radio that can’t quite tune properly. There are also incorporeal shapes starting to appear between the trees, scowling faces that vanish when you try to get a proper look at them. Some of them are carrying makeshift weapons. Some of them are carrying lanterns, despite the dawn.
The door of the house swings open and a young woman with flowers in her hair steps out. She laughs and waves to the people outside. “What are you waiting for? We’re going to start without you.”
Another wave and she disappears inside. A man watches from ten feet back in the trees, murder in his eyes. If approached, he won’t react--just continue staring at the house, unmoving and intangible.
[OOC: The Shades are the memories of former Wood-dwellers, left behind in places of great joy or sadness. Given life and substance by the Wood, they’re trapped in a single moment, living out the script of their memory over and over again. And now you’re a part of it. Play along or pay the price--they turn violent fast, and only become corporeal enough to damage at the height of the memory’s most severe emotions.
Go in the house and join the play inside, or wait in the woods and see who the approaching strangers might be, but either way, once you’re a part of the play, they won’t willingly let you leave before the end.]