WEEK ONE: WEDNESDAY, THE STORAGE ROOM

[parodeity]

[ HELLO MOD ACCOUNT, TIME FOR DAVE TO DO A THING, ALONE, BY HIMSELF. ALONE.

haha shit this is so stupid, thank god he maybe chose not the inevitable door that's gonna kill him??

anyway, using stealth ninja skills he will find a time to get at the door alone, and let himself inside. what the hell does he see? ]

Comments

[parodeity]

[ ...............cool. that's cool. if he were anyone else, maybe dave would run the fuck away and never look back.

as it is he's just suddenly thirteen instead of fourteen, like the last year never happened. he's suddenly back in the apartment in houston and there's lil cal and bro and he is so fucking used to this bullshit even though it sends a shiver down his spine and even though there's pure unspoken terror sliding down his spine and locking up his throat.

breathe. it's nothing worse than everything that ever came before. breathe. his grip on the scalpel tightens.

he will try to keep going through boxes, completely poker faced, doing the same thing he always did whenever bro started playing mindgames and lil cal started dancing around the apartment: lock down, disassociate from things like emotions to the best of his ability, and focus on the next step of the task. he's jumpy as shit but he has to do this. ]

[abhoth]

[ Dave is rewarded with some old photos. It's Yuggoth — pristine condition. Some places to note: the botanical garden looks far more alive than ever, teens are creepy when they're modestly dressed at the beach of Lake Crotin, and the Innsmouth Motel had an amazing opening day with dozens of people happy in the pool or grilling with their family on the patio.

So happy, right? ]

[parodeity]

[ just so happy. wow. much joy. he will look at the photos and check the backs but will not steal any of them since they don't seem, like, super immediately impressively relevant and he's still in "can't tell people shit" mode anyway. he will try to see if any of the photos seem to have abigail hobbs in them, since there may ? have been a picture in the papers, and he wants to see if she was at the opening day of the motel or in any of these other pictures.

if he finds nothing but old photos on this level he will go up another level on the shelves. as long as he is completely cut off from his emotions he can do this even more efficiently, surely, and deal with the inevitable meltdown...later. alone. god.

@ self this was a terrible room choice @ self why ]

1/3

[abhoth]

[ Unfortunately, he can not find anyone that matches a photo of Abigail. The rest of the photos are blank, but are of a time in Yuggoth that seemed to see both night and morning. ]

2/3

[abhoth]

[ Dave's able to see nothing but old fabric. Lace bundled with silk. It seems as if it was halfway in the process of a dress. There's beautiful ornate gloves carefully packaged. Looks like it's withstood the test of time. It is the last level of the main shelf area. Everything else around the shelves are for toiletries, cleaning supplies, and the like.

[abhoth]

[ Dave's searching comes to a halt when he feels a gentle brush — a warm, tender touch onto his hand. It's brief, as if shyly wanting nothing more than human contact.

In a moment, a soft breath on his neck and a distinct scent of lavender drifts through the air. It comes only a soft whisper: ]

Hello, Dave.

[ If he turns, there will be absolutely nothing there, but he will note the mannequins are all in their original positions. ]

[parodeity]

[










dave.exe is gonna maybe fucking crash a little after this. he keeps still breathing evenly, and he does turn. that...didn't...feel antagonistic but. ]

...Hello? [ shit his voice is hoarse because yeah this is testing nerves and trauma he has tried not to touch and yet got thrown into headfirst just a few days ago bye seeing bro. dirk. whatever. ]

... [ if there isn't a response he will. check the cleaning supplies/toiletries. what kind of cleaning supplies and toiletries. also cannot decide if wants to say thanks for the mannequins turning back or no. god. ]

[abhoth]

[ There's no response. Dave is utterly alone in the room. The silence will carry on if he stays here.

It's just drain-o and laundry detergent. Also toilet paper. ]

[parodeity]

[ ok like how many bottles of this shit are there, out of curiosity.

also if he examines the mannequins, having checked under/on the boxes/shelves and in all of them by now, what...will he see...................................

he will make himself do this thoroughly and probably be a wreck mentally the rest of the week ig lowkey ]

[abhoth]

[ 4 bottles of bleach, 10 bottles of drain-o, 2 boxes of detergent, 40 rolls of toilet paper, and 5 boxes of mouse traps. If Dave tries to steal anything, the mouse trap will go off onto his finger — no matter what he reached for.

Nothing out of the ordinary on boxes and shelves — and on naked torsos! ]

[parodeity]

[ ok but what if he tries to empty the bottles of bleach and draino. :/ can he do that even if mousetraps go off. he will sacrifice the well being of his hands to do away with potentially lethal chemicals? ]

[abhoth]

[ Every time he reaches for something, a mouse trap goes off.

The staff needs these to clean, DAVE!! ]

[parodeity]

[ why am i gonna have to fucking google mouse trap finger injuries

what if he had moustraps on all ten fingers could he reach for something THEN ]

[abhoth]

[

Dave is hit with mouse traps, breaking his left index finger and his right pinky finger. ]

[parodeity]

[ JESUS OKAY FAIR.

for the record he's gonna fuck his hands up worse after he leaves to obscure how the fuck he got those injuries, i guess. he has broken enough bones to know stupid ways you could have done it and. well. he can stage something, maybe.

hell he can just force someone else to back up a stupid story maybe we'll do that yeah okay. GUESS HE'S GIVING UP AND LEAVING THE ROOM, CHRIST. ]

[abhoth]

[ There's a girlish giggle as he leaves. The door slams shut. Dave is unable to re-open it, even if he tries. ]

[parodeity]

[ @ ghost mannequins fuck u ]