[log] Event: Lavender's Green, Part Two [open]

[snowblindmods]

Characters: everyone
Location: mysterious, white hallways
Date: Day 193-194
Summary: Find friends. Get lost. Don't look.
Warnings: Potential for gore and psychological horror. Please note any specific warnings in your subject lines!

While confusingly similar, the area is split into a few different sections:

The Core
The hallways here are narrow and twist at a rapid rate. With how dazzlingly white everything is, it's easy to not realize you're coming on a turn and slam right into the walls. There are no rooms here--no one starts here, though they may find it while they wander. At the center is a large, round area, like the center of a spiral. There's a lot of air pressure here.

The Inner Hallways
The largest area, filled with dead ends, gentle slopes and twists, and, occasionally, difficult-to-see drops where a higher hallway intersects with a lower one without a wall to separate them. The whole place tastes vaguely like blood. Most rooms are here--most people start here.

The Outer Hallways
The outer ring of the ball of yarn. It's not as thick with halls and twists as the other two areas, leading to a lot more boring walking in one direction. It's totally possible to circle around the same path multiple times without realizing it, as everything is so similar here. Occasionally, footsteps can be heard just outside the farthest walls. Sometimes, something breathes. There are a few rooms here--some people will start here.


Remember to note what kind of eyes your character has in their top level!

Comments

[howdull]

Of course it is all about intent.

[He is, sadly, completely oblivious to the danger he might be causing now.]

You can witness it again in Greg's deaths, where he has willingly and knowingly taunted dangerous individuals in the pursuit of being killed. Whether or not the actual death was at his hands, the intent was still that of suicide.

[thewarningafter]

[You're going to regret this later, Sherlock.]

And others? Good old Greggie can't be your only data point.

[howdull]

My own death was partially expected.

[That's a little more clipped, he doesn't want to talk about it.]

[thewarningafter]

Only partially?

[Too bad, Sherlock.]

John was thrilled about that, by the way, don't know if he's had a chance yet to tell you just how much we were admiring your scientific spirit.

[howdull]

Actually, no, he hasn't.

[Sherlock's expression tightens just a little.]

I think he must have been ignoring my calls, we haven't spoken since I revived.

[thewarningafter]

Really? That seems...unlikely.

[Stephen doesn't know either of them all that well, but that won't stop him from weighing in on that.]

[howdull]

Yes, really, what possible reason would I have to lie about that?

[Rude!]

[thewarningafter]

You don't know me, that's why. I'm not your friend, I'm just the guy with your face.

[howdull]

What does that possibly have to do with whether I spoke to John or not?

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen gives him a blank look.]

Nothing. It has to do with you two not wanting me butting in on your marital affairs.

[That's sarcasm at the end, Sherlock.]

[howdull]

[What is he talking about? Marital affairs? Sadly, Sherlock doesn't recall the beginning of this conversation by now, so it just seems as if--]

Are you jealous? I didn't realise you liked John that way.

[thewarningafter]

What? No.

[Stephen, in turn, isn't prepared for Sherlock to get that out of it.]

Noo.

[howdull]

Why not? Is it his height?

[Rude, Stephen, what's wrong with his best friend?]

[thewarningafter]

Height's not an issue. I just prefer women.

[Is Sherlock seriously trying to set him up with John??]

[howdull]

So does he.

[And your point is?]

[thewarningafter]

Is this some kind of weird diversion tactic? Someone asks you an uncomfortable question, so you try to set them up with John? Because it's not exactly working.

[howdull]

I don't recall you asking me an uncomfortable question. It must have been very boring, or I'd remember it.

[thewarningafter]

[Stephen narrows his eyes at Sherlock. What a complete and utter twit.]

Right. Obviously you're not upset at all that John isn't talking to you since you offed yourself. Silly me.

[Why is he even trying? John was nice to him, sure, but Sherlock really isn't Stephen's problem.]

[howdull]

[His brows knit together in momentary confusion, something he covers quickly.]

I'm sure he has called me, the conversation must just have been so tedious that I tuned out.

[thewarningafter]

Look, if you're going to change your story every time it comes up --

[Then what? Stephen lets out a sigh. Hell with it. He feels kind of bad for John, but there's not much to be done about that without network access and without Sherlock spontaneously becoming someone who isn't a massive dick.]

Fine. Whatever. Not my problem.

[howdull]

I haven't changed my story, what are you talking about?

[His brow furrows, genuinely confused. Stephen doesn't have the mannerisms of someone lying to him.]

[thewarningafter]

Well, either he's ignoring your calls or he's too boring to remember talking to. Neither story's very good, by the way, but I get the picture. You don't want to talk about it. Okay.

[howdull]

[He doesn't respond, thoughts turned inward to try and track down the anomaly here. His recollections, or Stephen's apparent non-lies that don't match up. He lifts his hands preparatory to placing them in his customary thinking position and the slight sting of his left hand causes him to pause.

He turns that hand palm up, revealing words scratched into the skin using scab and blood for a record.]

No memory. Death price. Read tablet, talk to John.

[thewarningafter]

[Alright, this behavior is becoming downright erratic. Something feels off here, beyond what can be explained by reticence born of emotional constipation. Stephen glances at Sherlock's palm when he turns it upward, catches sight of a series of scratches that only just resolve themselves into letters from his perspective.]

The hell did you do to yourself?

[Just going to shift over to get a better look at that.]

[howdull]

[He doesn't even try and hide his hand, just staring at it with dawning horror. His mind, he can't trust his own mind. God, no. His chest begins to flutter with ever more rapid breathing, panic beginning to set in.]

No. No, no, no, NO! Think, come on, think, damn you.