ashtreelane: (real estate)
...







-- LIGHT --


It's not the labyrinth. It's just a house like any other.

Carpeted floor, upholstered furniture, curtained windows -- it's a perfectly ordinary living room. A living room; a room for living in.

The door they've just stumbled through is gone.
Where is the dwelling place of light?
And where is the house of darkness?

Time passes. How much, it's impossible to say.
Go about; walk the limits of the land.
Turns reveal more of the same: more corridors, more corners. Doors begin to appear with less regularity, then stop altogether.
                                      ins to rise, but only briefly before it 
                                    g                                                    f
                                  e                                                        a
                                b                                                             l
A few times, the floor                                                                  ls again, and
                                                                                                             keeps
                                                                                                                   falling.


It's getting colder.
The walls burn when bare skin touches them.


 
Do you know a path between them?

 

It could be as long as days before the corridor ends at a single door, as nondescript as everything else in this house.




It's unlocked.
ashtreelane: (real estate)
(Let there be




It's the light that hits first.

It's the warmth second.

It's like staring into the sun, like standing right next to a furnace cranked up to full blast. It wouldn't be, though, if they hadn't come straight from the labyrinthine folds of the house.

Because where they've ended up is all normal. It's just a house like any other. Couches, carpeting, curtains, windows: anyone could live here.
ashtreelane: (walls)
Here, there is no light.

Here, there is no color to the walls or floor: just a uniform, ashy black.

Here, there is nothing -- no proof of what has come before, no prediction of what may come after.

There's only the darkness, the cold, and the long hallway stretching ahead.
ashtreelane: (walls)
Here, there is no light.

Here, there is no color to the walls or floor: just a uniform, ashy black.

Here, there is nothing -- no proof of what has come before, no prediction of what may come after.

There's only the darkness, the cold, and the long hallway stretching ahead.
ashtreelane: (hall of doors)
unseelie does not rattle tables and chairs, or hurl things down so they break
It's another hallway. There are doors branching off from this one on either side, spaced at regular intervals.
instead it arranges things you’ve thrown away to a pattern that you can’t escape
And there's no end in sight.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
ashtreelane: (staircase)
unseelie’s no dark boulevard of black trees with branches that crackle and stir
Ahead, there's something new: a yawning hole in the middle of the floor, hundreds of feet across.
but a path that leads ’round to the place where it started, which isn’t the place that you were
 
      It's  a  staircase,
                             winding

                                     tighter
                  ible  sin
             invis         gu            and
          tant               lar
       dis                     ity          tighter
      some                far
                       below.             around
      reaches
                                         itself
          it
               until              like
                       a shell
ashtreelane: (flashlight beam)
unseelie does not give you reason to fear; it won’t show your senses a thing
The darkness doesn't seem to be any different here, at first. Except where there were walls to steady yourself, and feel your way along...there's nothing now.
you’ll never know why ancient language you cry when you open your mouth to sing
It's just endless, open space.
ashtreelane: (staircase)
Hey, victims!

-- I mean, um, guys. Yeah. Guys. *eyedart*

So. First order of business: time frame. The preplaying for this plot is going to run from November 2nd to November 16th, with the in-bar IC timeframe spanning about twelve hours of November 18th. I know this is a month later than expected, but grad school, predictably, kicked me in the shins, and I can't get it set up any sooner. If we get the preplaying wrapped before the 16th, then hey, go us! We can push the IC date a little earlier if everyone's amenable. Considering how we're scattered over multiple time zones, though, and how I'm usually not online during the day due to RL commitments, I wanted to set aside a decent-sized chunk of time just in case.

On November 18th, doors are going to begin materializing in the walls of the bar. If your pup has an entrance post (or is threading with another pup that's taking part in the plot), it'll happen there. If not, I'll also have a centralized "entrance" post of my own that you can tag into. The doors'll lead into a long, ash-black hallway; as soon as they close behind your pup, they'll vanish.

Then the fun starts.

Like the book, the threads in this plot are going be structured kind of unconventionally. The best advice I can offer? Be prepared for sudden jumps to other threads and posts within the house. I will always link you to where you're supposed to go when a jump happens.

For easy reference, I've posted the objective list of facts about the house that Zampanò outlines in Chapter XVI here. I'll also add that magic and other supernatural powers will work to an extent, but they'll be muted and extremely difficult to use, like you're trying to access your abilities through a two-foot-thick wad of cotton padding. Beyond that...go wild with it. This is the epitome of "the only thing you have to fear is fear itself." Whatever baggage your character brings into the house is what they'll find there; it's literally a blank canvas, free for them to draw their own disturbing impressions on it.

(...of course, if you wanted to e-mail me or comment here with some of your character's prime phobias so I can shamelessly exploit them, I wouldn't say no. ;) )

Questions, comments, input, ideas for what you want to see in the plot? Let me know!
A list of objective facts about the house, taken verbatim from Chapter XVI:

(1) No light.
(2) No humidity.
(3) No air movement (i.e. breezes, drafts etc).
(4) Temperature remains at 32°F ± 8 degrees.
(5) No sounds.
    (5.1) Except for a dull roar which arises intermittently, sometimes seeming far off, sometimes sounding close at hand.
(6) Compasses do not function there.
    (6.1) Nor do altimeters.
    (6.2) Radios have a limited range.
(7) Walls are uniformly black with a slightly 'ashen' hue.
(8) There are no windows, moldings, or other decorative elements. (See 7.0)
(9) Size and depth vary enormously.
    (9.1) The entire place can instantly and without apparent difficulty change its geometry. [One example: during an exploration, the gargantuan spiral staircase inside the labyrinth visibly warps into an ellipse, snaps back into a circle, and drops ten feet while one character is attempting to descend it.]
    (9.2) Some have suggested that the dull roar or 'growl' is caused by these metamorphoses. (See 5.1)
    (9.3) No end has been found there.
(10) The place will purge itself of all things, including any item left behind.
    (10.1) No object has ever been found there.
    (10.2) There is no dust.
(11) At least three people have died inside.
    (11.1) [list of names omitted for spoilers]
    (11.2) Only one body was recovered. (See 10.0)

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on Ash Tree Lane

January 2007

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