Hearing a shout of someone saying some people were in danger no incredible danger. He jumped and yowled. The sound was shocking and put his paws over his mouth and fell forward. His tail was straight up and his hair stuck up a bit.

His hands felt... No not hands. He looked at them closer eyes widening.
A worry and horror fell over him as more and more the realization of how odd he felt how strange his sensations were. He had been so curious about the room about him he didn't focus on himself.

He wished he could find a mirror, everything seemed so dark yet not as dark as it should be. He lowered back down to listen more. Ears swiveling toward the sound of the talking.

"Argentum. Silvery. Apposite. And intriguing. Apparently I am not the only one who doesn't belong here. At least you remember what you were doing before you got here. I woke up like this." She looks sadly at her bony arms and fleshless, hard fingers. How is she supposed to touch a woman like this?



"You and me both mate," says Skele-Ken. "We should work together."



"Okay!" The war-creature scarcely has any time to finish the other things she had planned to say before the fiery-eyed skeleton plucks its skull from its collarbone and grasping it firmly in both hands hits the shage in the face with it using all the force it can muster. 'Ken' rather suspects that her nonexistent physique stands little chance of harming such a robust-seeming creature and holds nothing back.



"I would assume so," the skeleton says, replacing its skull and adjusting it roughly. The bones squeak a little as its cranium is screwed back on. "What other Earth would there b-" but she is interrupted.



"Oh good," the skeleton mutters to itself. "Because there is nothing autistic people enjoy more than being separated from their carefully-controlled safe space and then thrown into mortal danger. Great. Perfect. Love it. Just fan-fucking-tastic." She continues muttering obscenities under her non-existent breath as she fades into the background and adopts an observer's role. All these people are saying strange things she does not understand, and some of them seem to have more ideas than she does, and she is in no condition to lead anyone out of a puddle let alone a weird trans-dimensional ghost house.

Instead, she cocks her head and looks up at the ceiling. There's an unusual lifesign above them, different than the others. What can she discover about it, she wonders...
This message was last edited by the player at 08:06, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

Earthborn

Whomever had put these suits together was either a charlatan of the lowest order or a desperate genius. The suits were so much pot metal stuck together with chewing gum with no internal power source. The runes themselves were accurately carved, but clearly the craftsperson had struggled with some manual disability. It was almost like a cat had scratched these glyphs, judging by the convex edging of the debossing and relative fineness of the inscription.

All magic, all reality, was fundamentally a derivation of light and voice. The light of the forge was a low source of glowing orange scarlet, aligned with the Aeon along the Knight's declension. The forge itself was a representation of bestowed mutability, and the armor themselves a subject familiar with being acted upon. His fingers clenched and shook, then steadied. Beneath the 'code' of this . . . this 'game' . . . or perhaps, nested laterally in a higher dimension? The arithmetic! Was this trinary coding based on the Three Mother Letters?

Gained Skill: Rune Decryption LVL1

He knew the theory, but the actual means of enacting his will was beyond him under these strange stars. He would need an ally with the Shadow Magic skill to assist him.

Minor Grimalkin

In the corner of the attic was a woman. Well, a complex wooden object carved to resemble a woman, dressed in practical Victorian period clothing. It was a slumped and broken thing. Yet his Curiosity told him it was of immense narrative import. Or rather, the shadow cast by the candlelight was. It moved independently of the doll, its chest rising and falling with a facisimile of life. The shadow's mouth was moving. Instinctively the Grimalkin listened through his own shadow rather than through his flesh-and-blood ears.

". . . is coming. They have the means to survive, if only they knew their strengths. There isn't time! What can I - wait . . . little gray cat, you can hear me? Of course. Grimalkin are born of a witch's shadow . . . little gray cat, I am what could have been a goddess. I have waited so long for . . . none of that. No time! There is a man who smells of myrrh and dragonsblood in the cellar. Go to him, but not before you instruct the frantic silver sphere that the wolf-headed man is a good and level-headed person, who can marshal these headstrong forces. The one who glimmers like faraway torches through fog is clever, but a survivalist. He must be instructed that his only chance of survival is cooperation. Trust the punchy woman. Wife of he who dwells in absence, guide this kitten as you once guided my corpse-father . . "

Lunarian

Luminosity wasn't about being a torch. The moon was governor of hidden things, and her light would show secrets and reveal the invisible. Similarly, the Lunarian could freely decide who could see the light he generated.

Leise Schwertgeist

There was only darkness. She had no senses to speak of. Somehow things had managed to get worse - she didn't even have a sense of being embodied. Then her nascent [Possess Weapon] talent identified a single valid target, and she was shunted into it.

It was long and made of good iron, designed for stabbing with an added hook for catching. She had a physical form now, but no senses or ability to communicate.

She had been reborn as a fire-poker.

Welcome, Leise Schwertgeist, to the Lost House.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:42, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

The Lifesense of Old Bones could tell it was a Quadruped not a biped and it was small, a small feline like a kitten.

He listened to the shadow surprised that he could hear it speaking. Intrigued he paid deep attention to the words as they seemed very important. He nodded. to the wooden statue and it's shadow. "I will." it bounced.

Hey I can listen through my shadow. A witches shadow ? Is that what I am a cat ? He pondered as he was already on his way to find a way down to speak with the orb or the orbs shadow first.

Hopping down he eventually followed his ears as they moved this way and that and he found the others. He ran into the room and hopped up but missed the table and needed to hop to a chair then pull himself up on to the table. He almost forgot he had to talk to the sphere since he wanted to play with it and roll it around. He bounced and padded it a bit with a paw then calmed down and looked for it's shadow. He then communicated to it's shadow.

"Hello, Frantic Sphere, I was sent by the Goddess to be. I have very important messages. You all have strengths that you need to survive. The wolf headed man is a good and level headed person. He is a leader who can get everyone working together. The glowing one like twilight is very clever and a survivalist, he has to be convinced his only chance for survival is cooperation and working with the others. The punchy woman is trustworthy also some things about her I don't understand. Wife of he who dwells in absence. Now I have to find the dragon blooded man in the cellar. So much to do."

Grimalkin looked at all of them and waved a paw before hopping down and scampering off to find a way to the basement. A light meow rising from him.

Yes! Too much attention was on him now, and he didn't know or trust any of these people-monsters. He watched enough Isekai to know that they were probably mostly jack-assess waiting for their moment. And if he was summoned here like the appraised skill said, then he knew enough to know that whatever summoned him here probably didn't deserve his help as much as it thought it did. He wasn't, however, really that into PVP though so instead decided to just make his presence more as indistinct as possible, and hopefully elude the others so they didn't know where exactly he was in the house. That way, maybe he could figure out if there were any among them who were actually worth his time and potential friendship. Once he warmed up to those possible folks, he'd be much more helpful. If not, he'd figure things out on his own rather than end up as another statistic.

Slowly gaining a better understanding of his powers, The [Lunarian] decided to try and stop trying to extinguish his light, but instead control who could see it. He closed his eyes a moment, behind his hooded cloak, and willed his light to not be visible to anyone besides himself. He turned down [Luminosity] so No one but he could see its light.

And then the main hall suddenly, to the others, fell into a shadowy dusky gloom, lit only by the small fire in the fire place and perhaps some of the moonlight coming in from the window down the hall [or anything else the GM states of course].

He remained hooded, and misty and indistinct and he slowly drifted like a ghost across the room, flowing past any obstructions, and toward the stairs where the cat gremlin thing came from. How dare it try and call him out! He instead needed some space from the others, so he could get his bearings, and so drifted up the stairs into the attic, letting the light of his [Luminosity], which guide him while he left the others back in the shadowy main hall.

When the Leise Schwertgeist first came into existence, it was dead. It remembered clearly: the time it spent in life, the competitions it won, the girl it ran off to college with, and the speeding hunk of metal that turned it into a pile of mush. It remembers spending months, slowly dying in a deep sleep while its family tried desperately to bring it back in a hospital. They spent numbers of currency on trying to make it better, and it was for naught. One by one, the Leise Schwertgeist lost its abilities to percieve. First it was it's optical skills, then it's ability to pick up on scent, and finally, it lost the ability to comprehend sound. Then, it was nothing... and now, it was here.

The Leise Schwertgeist isn't deterred by this, for one simple reason: it has gained a new existence. It can comprehend that it, once more, has components. Components it can break down into things it can comprehend further. If it just had no form, than this is a definent improvement, right? The Leise Schwergeist does not care much that it is a metal implement that barely passes as a weapon: it has a handle for being held, and a sharp point for impaling her wielder's target, and a hooked blade to stab and slice. It remembers being bipedal, and being constantly aware of what it's body was doing. It jitters a bit, before taking stock of it's body once more. A handle for holding, a hook for grabbing, and a pokey bit for stabbing. It had another part to it, however. Calling it a 'sense' would be a bit of an over exaggeration: really, it was what the Leise Scwergeist was using to comprehend itself. It occupied a separate spot it it's mind. [Possess Weapon], whatever that means. It... sits there, simply. Can't really do much right now unless someone picks it up.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 22:58, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

The revelation was distressing, but the circumstances were desperate - the Earthborn wasn't sure that he could lay claim to genius, but he could lay claim, at the least, to its fruits. Despite the absent power source, he did his best to buckle himself into the suit, reasoning that even pot metal and chewing gum would hold up better against...whatever, exactly, was out there...than silks and jewelry. An unfamiliar weight.

Others soon joined it. The weapon beside the armor, swished experimentally - he had a suspicion even before turning the full force of his sight on it he'd find similar results - then tucked carefully to the side. And a forge-tool. Something simple, heavy, blunt, something that could be wielded desperately and without particular skill. Something metal, which he promptly thrust into the furnace until it glowed.

Light.

He took a breath, looked towards the doorway. In a place that seemed half-hewn from shadows, he wondered where he might find someone with a deeper knowledge of such things. Somewhere past the immediate needs of survival, surely. He looked at the implement he held, tried to be reassured by its heft.

"It's you and me, I guess. You keep me safe and I keep you around, deal?"

Voice.

Another breath...and his first steps out the exit, towards the sounds he heard. A foolish course of action, perhaps. Anything really could be waiting out there. But he couldn't hope to understand everything he'd need to learn from inside this single armory, and more and more the horrors of the Void and the wonders hidden within the worlds that grew from it occupied his thoughts. Restlessness, manic energy. Beneath the heavy Mythrolasium helm, a grin sharp and bright as a knife in moonlight. He needed to know.

He had always needed to know.

His pace quickened, some secret engine in his soul sparking to drive him forward, and he rushed to meet with - others? Death? A sealed oubliette? Something he couldn't describe the shape of - but just like he knew the arithmetic between and above and around this reality, he knew the name of what he sought.

Destiny.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:02, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

"Umm, no. I don't- why would I want to slap you in the face?" The demilupine blinked as he tried to understand. Before he could respond further the woman was assaulted by a flying skull?

Unsure of what to do he tried to follow the conversation. It seemed like all of the other monsters were also from earth, or at least a version of earth. What earth was 616 and what earth was his? Before he could wrap his head around that a sphere declared they were all in mortal peril. Before he could wrap his head around that a cat suddenly walked in and made several declarations before it immediately left. The more he watched the more the demilupin became convinced of a certain fact. "Yep. I've gone insane."

On the off chance he hadn't gone insane he took a deep breath and parsed what had been said. He let out a huge sigh and pretended that it wasn't some nightmare. 'Just think of it like a field trip'. "So I have no idea what is going on but I think we can all agree on one thing, we want to get out of here. So I recommend we explore the house and figure out where the exit is. Aza... Az... the sphere thing is right, there might be more of us here. We should be on the lookout for others. Whatever we find we meet back here in a few and compare notes. If any of us are attacked by an array thing shout out for help I guess? Sound good?" He paused as he looked down the hallway, "also anyone see where the cat ran off too? It seemed like it might know what's going on."

The demilupine nodded after he finished his little speech. He was convinced he had presented that reasonably well. Time would tell if they decided to listen to his suggestion or not. Regardless he himself planned to follow through with his plan. He strode off in a direction determined to open more windows and further explore the house for other monsters. As he did he pondered one question, 'who was the wolf-headed man the cat mentioned?'

A bundle of fur and cuteness in kitten form ran up.

It looked up, up, up at the figure coming from the basement. Sniffing the air and smelling myrh.

It opened it's mouth and meowed. It's ears then lowered as it sighed. It walked around till it touched Earthborn's shadow.

"Hi there. Are you the dragonblooded one ? You do smell of myrh."

The Unblooded Shage was just about to explain to the Demilupine that she thought she might be in a dream, or had gone insane, and needed the sweet remedy of pain to right her trauma-addled brain. But then the Old Bones took a mighty swing and smashed the Unblooded Shage's head with her skull. Completely unprepared, the bandaged creature's head snapped back from the force. She let out a howl of pain, though her body did not crumble. She pulled herself back together with alarming vigor. "Heeeey that fuckin' hurt!" the Unblodded Shage hissed. She rubbed the stinging wound and her grimace was quickly dissolved by glee. Now her cheeks were aglow with a girlish blush. Not to mention a little swollen from Old Bone's unhinged smack. "That hurt me." Her body radiated with bottled excitement and a tear rolled from the swollen eye. "This is the best day of my life..."

And quite possibly her last, if the orb had anything to say about it. The Unblooded Shage studied her with interest, and then the cat - er, well, close enough - that lept onto the table. It was oddly thoughtful for a cat(?), touching the orb's side and radiating a pensive, serious demeanor that intrigued her. Was the cat... communicating somehow with the orb? The Unblooded Shage had never owned a cat, in her past life or any other, so she did not pretend to understand the mysterious creature's intentions. Except that they appeared sentient.

"Incredible danger?" was added to the chorus of raised voices. Except the Unblooded Shage's was the only one that was delighted. Her [Thought Acceleration] began to pump through her veins with incredible force. If she were anyone less hearty, or less empowered by that illusive power of friendship all those shows and books promised her, an artery might have burst! "That sounds amazing! I'm dying to try out this new body. And no way I'm giving it up to something stupid like getting killed!" and she cracked her long, coal-tipped fingers. They appeared singed, like the end of a burnt candle. But what were they met to be lit with? That she was eager to find out.

The Unblooded Shage then focused on the room around her with a singular objective in mind: finding anything useful to arm herself or her new comrades to arm themselves with. It was made difficult by the Lunarian's meddling, though she was none the wiser to it. Her [Thought Accelerated] mind was too preoccupied with shiney, pokey, slashy, deadly... That's when she saw it, a slim, glittering implement near the hearth she was born from. The Unblooded Shage bent down to one knee and scooped Leise Schwertgeist up with the delicacy of lifting a maiden. Something about it felt important. Special even. Was this one of those legendary weapons the Unblooded Shage had read of in all those wiki articles and Reddit threads? No, it was just a fire poker. She picked it up all the same and presented it to the others.

"I found this. Would any of you like it?" she said, gesturing towards her unarmed companions. "I don't need it. I-I mean...!" she corrected herself, somehow feeling like she shouldn't insult the fire poker in her hands. "My build won't be able to optimize it. Please, uh, miss orb-thingy," she began, giving the Callisti another chance to introduce herself, now that the Unblooded Shage was present. Or anyone else for that matter. She had barely caught the tidbits of "Seattle", "anime" and "Naofumi straight up just put up with way too much shit!" but she didn't know who that was supposed to be. "- just point me in the direction of the cellar and I swear to you all -" and her casual, friendly demeanor slipped into something darker. "I will crush anything that dares stand in our way."

It was obvious the Unblooded Shage was a little too into whatever the hell was going on.

[To: The Lost House, Lower Level: Armory, Furnace.]
This message was last edited by the player at 02:52, Fri 12 Aug 2022.

The Earthborn jumped to a height that would have been impressive for his normal level of extremely casual athleticism, let alone under the weight of the defunct set of armor.

"MOTHER OF GOD!"

Still locked into a forward course, the leap along with his attempt to rotate full-body mid-air exceeded his stage-trained flexibility and sent him crashing into a wall, staggering, thrashing, and only barely avoiding burning himself with the furnace-heated [something or other] he wielded. He came very close to hurling it at the kitten.

Breathe. Calm. The nuldraken don't - don't inquire. Usually. I think.

Heart hammering, he did his best to haul himself back up to standing position. "I -" He bit back his first answer. No certainties. "I don't know. I'm, uh, I just got here." Myrrh I remember. It was thick in the air of the study, along with firelight and the murmur of voices. My circle. I hope they're alright.

Dragonsblood, though...? He examined the armor uncertainly, then his interlocutor. A shadow. A cat. Could it be...? He crouched before the Grimalkin. "I'm - Aaron. Or I was. Listen, do you know anything about shadow magic? About -" He gestured to the claw-made runes, looked both ways, hoped this new creature was as friendly as its shape and sound.

"My shadow is talking to your shadow now. I seem to have some, well some innate understanding of shadow magic. I think we all need to band together and talk with the shadow of the goddess in the attic. To survive we need to work together. The shiny orb thinks there is danger." Hops up onto his shoulder if Earthborn lets him.

"I'm sorry I was supposed to get to you, you were in the basement right. Though I wasn't told what I was supposed to do when I found you." again it's ears lowered slightly.

The shadow of a goddess. Things were coming together now. The old XO, nothing like the glorious raiment he'd read about. The quiet. There were things worse than nuldraken, he knew. Things that could claim the lives of even the divine, that feasted on the rich life of their grown and tended Realms. And what, he wondered, would be left behind after such feasting? The Earthborn's eyes turned to the structure around him. He opened himself to [Appraisal], to the colors of magic, to the mathematics of being.

He allowed the little shadow to climb to his shoulder almost absentmindedly. "Lead me to the attic, then. To this other shadow. Thank you for finding me. Do you have a name?"

"I did, but I think I died. I know I have a name here in this strange afterlife. Grimalkin is what I am called. I think everyone should meet her, she seems to know what is going on."

Grimalkin points with a paw directing Earthborn to the attic.

Hey folks, please pause while I update.

A cat leapt into view on the table the Callisti was yelling from, and she rolled backwards, startled into temporary silence. Cats hadn't been so friendly with Azalea in life, and hadn't been quite so large (by comparison at least, now that she was just a sphere). This was the closest she'd ever been to one. She even let it paw at her, it was oddly calming.

And then it spoke.

"Ack! A talking cat now! Wait..." The Callisti tried to curb her shock to take in all she was being told. "... Good cat. Thank you for this message. Godspeed in your tasks. The dragon blooded man in the cellar... We have all we need..." So there was hope. Even if the doom was coming within a matter of minutes, there was still time, even if many of the others seemed understandably unfocused, given the circumstances. She had to think. She wished she had a nail to chew still. Or a thumb to have a nail to chew.

Wait, was that fire poker there before? Something about it seemed important, she couldn't draw her attention away from it, but without arms, not much she could do about it.

For now, the Callisti spun her attention around to the Demilupine, whom the cat had spoken to her of. "Azalea." She helped him, "And well said... I'm sorry, I don't think I got your name yet. The cat has gone down into the cellar, and I suggest we follow him. I imagine what we need to survive is down there, and I want eyes on it and whoever is down there with it. There may be clues up here as well, so we don't need all of us to go."

The Callisti spun again, this time directing her attention to the slapstick act featuring the Unblooded Shage. She was right, seeing that had calmed her. And more than that, the Shage seemed to be a glutton for punishment, always useful. AND she listened to the warning, three for three! The Callisti silently filed her away under 'tentatively useful'. "Azalea." She assisted, "You! I will allow you to carry me down to the cellar. There's someone down there I want to meet and I don't want to approach someone described as 'dragonblooded'... unarmed. What do I call you?" The Callisti stared at the Shage with an expectant silence, waiting for compliance.

[moves to: The Lost House, Lower Level: Armory, Furnace.]
This message was last edited by the player at 02:55, Fri 12 Aug 2022.

After some brief introductions and clarifications (namely, as the Earthborn knew, dragonsblood was an incense that he likely smelled of, not . . . a physical characterstic of his.) and brief reconnaissance of the cellar, most of the errant misfits born of the Lost House loosely gathered together at the foot of the attic steps as several who sought the cat or the Earthborn encountered them coming up the same narrow stair.

The Lesser Nuldrak boldly took roost on the Old Bones' skull, preening.

The bronze weapons were lousy with chlorides, the cause of bronze disease - useless. This meant they had been recovered from . .  soil?

The Callisti, the Earthborn, and the Demilupine sought more information about the house by various means. The Callisti discovered that the kill team that was coming would be likely to arrive in seven minutes - after some deliberation, the Array had judged only a single operative necessary for the extermination.

Physically, The house seemed . . . small. The main room with the hearth, the basement armory, the attic, the dormitory . . . it was like four or five pieces of a strange jigsaw puzzle, equal thirds house, castle, and ship. Yet there was one terrifying discovery:

The House was buried in a the torso of a massive armored corpse, the source of the same tarnished Living Metal that had been fashioned into the suits in the basement, by someone skilled, but desperate, and no longer here. That explained the chlorides.

The Demilupine discovered there was something funny about the corridor; when we walked in, there was no door to the dormitory he had left. When he walk back down the corridor, the door was apparent. Some trick of design. On a hunch, he looked for another hidden door walk toward the window, in from the hearth. He nearly lost his balance falling through and invisible wall. Here, there was a kitchen, and a dry-rotted corpse that had died of starvation. There was no FOOD in the kitchen. It was the work of a moment to explore this wing of the house; up another staircase there was an attic library, and down the same stairs was a cellar. Here there was a pool of fresh water, with ceramic jugs for carrying the water upstairs, but again no food.

The Demilupine felt there was some secret here, but he did not discover it in the spare minute of searching.

Meanwhile, the Earthborn, the Minor Grimalkin headed up the stairs.

The invisible Lunarian was already at the top of it, a light that only his guiding his way.

The attic was a sacred space, decorated richly with tapestries depicting large figures consuming smallers ones, only to be consumed in turn; and otherwise, great beasts of many hands and many eyes and other distorted physiques doing battle with the same large figures. Lastly, there were arabesque tapestries, patterns only with no figures. It was by these last tapestries that he found a discarded maiden puppet, reclining on a couch. A single candle burned by the side the doll. The candle was banded with many colors, tracking the time. 7 bands remained.

The shadow of the doll cast on the wall was clearly something else entirely, and by his light he saw the full figure in its secret colors, deep green and gold with deep brown skin. By his light, he saw the hidden moon-runes inscribed in the doll, simple runes of naming:

"Here lieth Eri, Goddess of Echoes, of the Last House of the Lost, Once-Mortal, Heir of Erial, God of Song, of the Keeper's Blood."

Ah. Not a doll; an effigy, to remember a daughter too weak to survive her inheritance.

The others did not see the runes nor the true colors of the shade, but they saw the rest.

Unblooded Shage, Callisti, and Liese Schwertgeist remained in the parlor.

[The Cycle continues unbroken . . . ]
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:27, Thu 11 Aug 2022.

After he had drifted and flowed into the attic, following his own light, the misty [Lunarian] looked about the place thoughtfully. The Tapestries must be depictions of the some of the things he remembered from the Anime magazine Godhunter - Gods that ate mortals, and bigger chthonic void-things that would fight the gods and sometimes even eat them in turn. He didn't know what was up with the doll and the final tapestry, though, until the light of his presence caught onto the hidden moon-runes and other secrets of the scene and caused them to glitter to his sight. In which case he pieced together that the doll was more of an effigy, and that the shadow of the Doll on the wall was not a true shadow but some sort of stillborn but sentient being. Most likely, he presumed, the stillborn heir of the giant corpse that the House had resided within.

"Ugh! I simply wished to come and be away from the rest of you all, to gather my thoughts and wits in seclusion and respite. But yet, you all still somehow managed to follow me anyways." the [Lunarian]'s voice had said somewhere from the dim light of the Attic. It was audible to everyone.

"I must find a way to leave this House, it seems. Even away from Earth, humanity seems to want to continue to infringe upon my freedom to just be. I'm stuck inside this anime and can't even have some peace and quiet to myself. Are all of you misfits and creatures and sentient objects also Earthlings forcefully drawn and trapped here too? Are you seeking me out simply to use me for my light, or because you are truly lonely?" the [Lunarian] said from the shadows aloud, as his prior survivalist feelings and convictions began to falter for a moment as his better nature warred with his cynical one.

"None of you deserve anything from me, and I'm asking for nothing from you either. Just let me be miserable by myself, here with this poor stillborn shade."

Based on how the others responded, he would either restrict and hide his [luminosity], and let them fend for themselves, or if they could somehow convince him to trust them or appeal to his better nature he would share his fae-light with them again.

The residents of the House who had, incidentally, come into the attic after the [Lunarian], could sense somehow, according to the strange meta-logic of this story-made-real they found themselves in, that they had encountered an important decision point, where how they reacted and what they chose to say and do would have an affect on the [Lunarian] and possibly their own situations going forward. Perhaps this was what the cat-like Grimalkin meant when he mentioned that they had to gain the [Lunarian's] trust, earlier? [GM Edit: Minor Grimalkin's Curiosity talent would indicate the Lunarian's importance had somewhat increased, and the Demilupine's Familiar talent would indicate a heightened emotional state and a change from friendly to uncertain intention. Up to those characters if they decide to share those details.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:30, Thu 11 Aug 2022.

The Old Bones, continuing to lack any amazing insights of her own, simply followed the assembled circus upstairs without offering any of her own nonexistent insights. The click-clack of bare bone on wooden floor was an unpleasant auditory sensation; she would have to acquire some boots or something as soon as possible.

Her fire-pupils flicked to the dark as she heard an annoyed exclamation. "Frankly, little moonbeam, I had not even realized you were up here and I'm starting to wish you weren't," she states with a callous frankness that can only come from a position of utter apathy. She recognized the voice of Argentum, and in his words she identified a familiar loneliness that she herself had felt many a time. Unlike the masculine-voiced entity however, she had long since given into despair and no longer even had the energy to push others away.

They could coexist together. Or not. They could work together, or not. It would be better to work together; more efficient. But for abolishing the chill of a lonely heart? The Old Bones genuinely couldn't care less.

"Stay up here and fade away if you want. I have a world to get back to, and maybe this dead god is the key. Help or get out the way."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:49, Thu 11 Aug 2022.

Meowed a few times then hopped down from Earthborn to stand so his shadow could touch all of those present it was tricky and hard to do and walked around the candle till he got it right.

"I am from Earth or was, I don't know where I am but I know the goddess is in need of our help and is in worse shape then we are. I have to speak to you through your shadows. I know something really bad is going to happen and if we don't work together we might die again. Please let's try to work together. We all need each others help. I am trying hard. I can speak to the goddess shadow find out what she has to tell us though she warned me there is little time."

"Earth here. Hi. Aaron, I think. I...haven't looked in a mirror for a while. I don't really know what's going on - well, I do, the broad strokes, but not the specifics. I'm sorry to bother you. I wouldn't fault anyone the desire for some, uh, adjustment time right now. Like about an eon of it myself."

The [Earthborn] seemed hesitant, anxious, and distracted in a nervous way, eyes flickering to every uncertain darkness. "But we don't seem to have any luxury that way. I'll be honest, I don't think I'm - " He paused, startled to realize something with a deep, jagged pang. Like cracks running through ice.

"Okay, I guess I am pretty lonely," he said, with an apologetic half-smile as kin to merriment as the shadowed mannequin was to the great beings depicted around them. "But that's not why we came, I don't think. I also don't think it's the other one, your - light? isn't why we're bothering you. We...well, we're all kind of in the same boat. The little one," he said, gesturing to the Grimalkin, "Said we needed to talk to her. The wooden goddess, the shade. I want to understand this place. I want to survive it. I don't want to stop you from leaving or use you, but I won't lie, I do want help. Please."

Another breath, more jittery. Was it the tumbled river of words that had overused it or the growing clarity of his situation? He couldn't have said. A similarly uncertain jumble of reasons had wet the [Earthborn]'s eyes as he looked up at the [Lunarian].

"I'm really scared."

The more the demilupine had explored the house the more disturbed he had become. The building seemed to be more maze as much as an abode, perhaps even more now if the corpse in the kitchen was any indicator. The various rooms he had discovered hadn't provided any clues but the fact that he'd already found two doors that were hidden provided evidence that more existed somewhere in the manor.

His search had concluded for the moment so he had regrouped with the others and followed the others up into the attic. Which oddly seemed just as ornately adorned as the rest of the house, although the doll on the couch seemed to stand out amongst the rest of the room. While he wandered the perimeter he heard raised voices and felt a wave of painful emotions. The conversation clearly contained a lot of emotion, which now assaulted his senses. When he recovered he stepped towards the group. "Look, we're all on edge right now so emotions are high but let's not lash out. Everyone here has been taken from their homes like, um," he paused as he tried to recall a relevant example. "Like the Wizard of Oz! We're all basically Dorothy! She couldn't get home by herself, she needed the help of her friends to survive. So let's all calm down." He glanced between the small cat that also seemed to be from Earth and the shadow goddess. "See, this guy has already found Glinda to help us! Can you help us out and speak for her?"

The demilupine knelt down in front of the doll. How did you address a goddess? Were gods here normally dolls? Was this thing truly alive? He tried to focus his new found sense and see if he could feel any emotions from the doll or her shadow. "Umm, hello your shadow godliness. My name is Dalton. We have gathered here in your, well, attic seeking help. Can you help us? Can we help you?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:04, Fri 12 Aug 2022.

Nodded. "I can do that." a bit fearful of the dogman he still felt the earnestness of his words.

"Goddess, I will speak for you if you wish it. I would be happy too." and he stood to be her shadow speaker so that hopefully they could all learn more of their predicament.

Shadow Magic to speak for the goddess if she allows it.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:11, Fri 12 Aug 2022.

The stillborn goddess's emotions were complex to the Demilupine's senses. There was resentment, concern, and resignation wrapped up together. She was a staunch ally in her intent; she was prepared to die for this ragtag group. Indeed, she seemed oddly intent on it.

The Stillborn Goddess spoke through shadow to the Minor Grimalkin.

PM

[Private to Minor Grimalkin: "Tell them this, kitten: Six minutes are all you have left before a monster that was once a God crashes through the outer barrier. It is called a Ghost-Eater, and in the first minute that it arrives at least two of you will be immediately eaten. In the future that I have seen, the Lunarian watches invisibly as each of you is devoured, and then the Ghost-Eater waits. It sits and watches the Lunarian, waiting for him to drop his shroud. He never does, and I gain two unsavory companions in this little Limbo.

You need the crude XOs in the armory. They were left behind by an adventurer who stumbled upon this place. If you are swift, there is still time to escape to the Moon nearby. If I give up this half-life of mine, the House will crumble with it. It might buy you time. As for helping me . . .  carry my effigy with you, when you make you escape. I have always wanted some part of me to escape this House . . ."]

[The Cycle continues unbroken. Timestamp: 20:17]

OOC: Enough of you have appealed to his humanity by being vulnerable and empathetic yourselves, so he opts to take the Light Path.

The [Lunarian] listened to each response thoughtfully. One, from the Old Bones, was of a darker sort. but it was a darkness that rang of apathy and despair rather than actual malice. While the other responses were ones of, in varying degrees, kindness, honesty, vulnerability, and good-to-honest humanity. And this, in turn, stirred the better side of the [Lunarian]. The part of him that, underneath his own desire to survive and his own fear and anxiety, wasn't some robot or cold slate but was a human who was capable of empathy himself. And these others...they reminded him he wasn't alone in a bubble, but that they were hurting and scared like he was and he felt their honest desire to want to commune with him and try to co-exist with him. To pitch in together with him, against the cold horrors that he suspected were slowly drawing closer to them even now.

OOC: The Grimalkin's talent reveals that the Lunarian is becoming even more important and relevant to their situation, while the Demilupin's talent revealed that the [Lunarian] was experiencing some heightened emotions that were shifting from Uncertainty back to a sort of sympathetic friendly intention again, with grains of compassion and empathy tossed in for good measure. The [Lunarian] wanted to survive badly, but this feeling no longer over-rode the friendly one from his initial encounter but instead became a holistic and healthy blend of the two. The [Lunarian] wanted to now help the group survive, rather than just himself.

"I...I see. I hear what you all are saying, and I...suspect I have over-reacted." the [Lunarian]'s voice said from the shadows.

"I understand, and I believe the words of each and every one of you. I'm not alone, and equally with me here you all are not alone. Because I have decided to be with each and every one of you from now on. We'll take this anime game whatever the hell it is by the horns, flip it on its, head, and we'll find a way to turn things around! And so I will help you!" his voice said, continuing excitedly.

"The wooden doll...don't be fooled you guys. It is no Doll at all. And it's not the goddess either. [Demilupine], stop being fooled you're talking to a mere hunk of wood. If you only look closer..." he said suddenly, stopping mid sentence.

"Oh wait. I left you all in shadows in my moment of doubt. I will - only this once - apologize for that and own up to it. Let's make things more cozy in here, shall we. Let's help you all to SEE what's really going on!" his voice said.

And suddenly and inexplicably, the Attic was suddenly flooded with a soft but persistent glow that lit up things clearly for them all to see again, as the [Lunarian] enabled his [Luminosity] to be visible to the other PC godlings. The light swept across the space, revealing sheets and old furniture and tapestries on the walls, but most importantly the [Lunarian]'a misty form was once again visible fully.

And suddenly, the misty fae-like being semeed to pull down the hood of his cloak, and he turned solid. He was a young man with grey skin but fair and attractive, exotic well-bred features. He had dark black hair but his eyes were gold, like the color of his luminous aura and the starts in the sky. He was draped in his now-solid(ish) cloak, which was still sparkly and luminous in its own way. Even solid, he had a certain celestial fae-like quality.

He pointed at the wooden doll. As he did, hidden moon-runes began to glitter across its surface while the nearby shadow took on color and an unusual solidity of presence.

"My Light reveals secrets, and that doll is merely an effigy and nothing more. The shadow there is not a true shadow, but the living stillborn goddess Eri, whose domain was to be echoes as she is an echo of this corpse god, who himself was a god of song. I suspect this house holds other secrets you won't be able to find easily, but I will help you unveil them all!" he said as he looked onto the group more kindly now.

He turned to the [Minor Grimalkin].

"Kitty cat? You are very perceptive. Talk to the revealed goddess now, under my light. It should go easier for you now."