Defunct Chapter 118

This was rewritten for the start of Arc II

~~~~~

When we got back to the bed and breakfast, we were beat. Even after being fully healed when the storyline ended, we still walked miles into the middle of nowhere, literally. We were all tired. Antoine had gotten especially quiet.

He and Kimberly found a bedroom upstairs to stay the night in. I think they wanted to use his nightmare trope to help him out. I didn’t pry, but I lent him my Out Like A Light trope as they were walking upstairs. He had just found out that his brother was dead. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to leave the waking world.

We were free to share tropes as long as our levels were similar.

In fact, that was one of a hundred topics I was eager to read about in the Atlas. For the first time since arriving here, I felt like I could dig my nails in and learn about this place. From the sound of Project Rewind, I would have to. We were getting ready to enter a brave new world.

My body may have been tired, but my mind was wired. There were so many things that made sense all of a sudden. I wanted to go through and learn everything. In time, I would try.

Bobby and Dina each found rooms upstairs for themselves.

I decided to take the first watch. We didn’t know when this storyline would reset. We didn’t even know that it would reset. With Samantha gone and presumably axed, the storyline might have been forever taken offline. I realized I might never get to learn what actually happened the night she agreed to be the Damsel Paragon over thirty years ago.

That was the part that frustrated me the most.

Who made the offer? What was the offer, exactly? Why did people from our world get brought to Carousel when there didn’t seem to be players from any other world here? Was there something special about us?

I sat on the landing upstairs and read the Atlas by the light of a broken lamp. I grabbed a couch that we had thrown up against the stairway as a barricade and settled in.

From the refrigerator, I had nabbed another Dr. Pepper. There was one of those premade submarine sandwiches in there with a toothpick and olive sticking out of the top. I could only imagine that Bobby’s food trope had something to do with that. I cut myself off a slice.

The house was wrecked. The ghost zombies didn’t wipe their shoes before entering. You’d think all those undead Missourians would have better manners.

~-~

At sunrise, Antoine came to relieve me of my watch. He gave me my sleeping trope back. I wasn’t upset about that one bit.

I found a quiet room with an ancient bed. I flipped the mattress. In the blink of an eye, I was asleep.

I had a strange dream, but when I woke up, I couldn’t remember a thing about it.

It was afternoon.

Antoine was cooking hotdogs out on a grill that he had unearthed from one of the sheds on the property. Kimberly prepared a salad.

Bobby was reading the Carousel Atlas in a lawn chair outside. He held the book like something in it might jump out and attack him.

I stared at him for a moment.

“He’s worried about spoilers,” Dina said from her own chair around the side of the house. I hadn’t seen her. “I told him Chris’ story about the scholar. Guess he took it seriously.”

I watched him cover one of the large pages with a brochure from the rack inside, only revealing a little bit at a time.

“It’s good he took it seriously,” I said.

Dina nodded.

I nodded.

I thought she might want to talk about the developments in her quest, but she didn’t mention it, not exactly.

“I saw my son,” she said.

That took me by surprise.

“Where?” I asked.

“I was hiding out in the woods. Trying to stay away from those assholes. Suddenly, the dogs started howling. A thick fog came over the field. I could hear his voice, telling me not to be afraid.”

“Oh,” I said. “Guess that’s around the time Samantha’s trope activated. Made things supernatural, so your trope got stronger.”

Dina had a trope called Encouragement from Beyond that allowed her dead loved ones to comfort her in some form during a storyline. In a story without magic, the effect was like getting a sudden memory of her loved one. In stories with explicit magic, that trope became much more literal.

She nodded. “He told me not to attack the dead people. That they wouldn’t hurt me. I tried to find where the voice was coming from, and I did. He was sitting on a log waiting for me.”

“That must have been… quite the experience,” I said. I knew what people said to you when your loved ones died. I had heard plenty of it myself. I had no idea what to say to someone who just saw their loved one’s ghost. Heck, the very mention of my grandmother had freaked me out. Dina didn’t seem freaked out at all.

“He wanted to talk about you,” she said.

“About me?”

“He said that you used to watch scary movies with your grandfather,” she said.

I didn't want to hear that.

“I don’t think you should be listening to that stuff,” I said. “It’s just Carousel. That wasn’t your son.”

“I believe it was. I know that Carousel would jump at the chance to mess with us; I’m not stupid. I just don’t think it would settle for a fake. I think it brought Sean’s soul here to torment me. I think it’s really him. Besides, wasn't Carousel supposed to be asleep?”

“Dina…”

“He said you and your grandfather would watch scary movies and that he would fast forward through parts you weren’t supposed to see.”

That was true, but it didn't mean her son's ghost was real. It was just the effect of the trope.

“Stop,” I said. “Please.”

“Don’t you want to know what else he said?” she asked. She was almost ready to cry.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t decide.

“He said go downstairs first. When you get three choices: up, down, or through a door with an eyeball on it. Go downstairs first. Do you know what that means?”

“Go downstairs first?” I repeated. “I have no idea.”

That didn’t even make sense. In a horror movie, going into a basement is almost always the wrong decision.

“You have to remember that,” she said.

“Okay,” I said. “Fine.”

I tried to think of something else to say, but I couldn’t. More than anything I just wanted to get out of there.

Downstairs first. A strange warning for sure.

~-~

The day wore on to night. We weren’t ready to leave yet and from our experience at the cult mansion, we figured we could spend another night. Then we would have to figure something out.

But, as was often the case, our plans didn’t end up working out.

Change came with a knock at the door.

I was on the couch upstairs. Everyone else was in their rooms or outside somewhere.

Of course, I panicked. I was certain that was the Speirs brothers back to take the house over again.

I crawled down the stairs and braved a glance toward the door. My mind flashed back to when Jack Goforth arrived back at the mansion.

The difference was the front door to this place was boarded shut. I decided to exit through one of the broken-out windows that led out onto the wraparound porch. I crept forward until I could poke my head out and see who was there.

It wasn’t the Speirs brothers.

It wasn’t an NPC, a paragon, or otherwise.

Standing on the porch with their bags packed, were a man and a woman. The man had sandy hair that went everywhere. He wore a tie-dye shirt and cargo shorts. The woman wore a red jacket and black jeans. She had long black hair that she had up in a messy bun.

They were in their early twenties or so.

My eyes widened as I looked at them on the red wallpaper.

They were players.

The man’s poster featured him dressed as a clown leaning against a train. The axe murderer was hidden underneath the train waiting to strike.

Isaac Hughes is The Comedian, it read.

He had two tropes

If he’s still cracking jokes…

Type: Healing

Archetype: Comedian

Aspect: Jokester

Stat Used: Moxie

…he’s probably not that hurt. In the wreckage of unknown terror, the heroes stumble on the body of a fallen comrade. The sadness cannot last for long, because before even asking what happens, their fallen friend fires off a sarcastic or silly remark. Instantly, sorrow changes to laughter or annoyance, but either way, relief comes with it.

With this trope equipped, the player will be able to heal damage that they have taken if they make a joke, quip, or perform some physical humor the next time they are On-Screen after the scene where they are injured. Works better if the character has already established themselves as comic relief.

With good execution and the right circumstances, the player will be able to heal allies who have suffered the same injury at substantially the same time (i.e. surviving an explosion or falling from a great height).

If the Player’s injuries are extensive and known to the audience, the healing effect of this trope diminishes greatly.

Who says death isn’t a laughing matter?

~

The Comedian's Arsenal

Type: Buff

Archetype: Comedian

Aspect: Stooge

Stat Used: Moxie

In a panicked moment, a character in distress will grab just about any weapon that might help them survive. Some weapons, though, are better than others.

With this trope equipped, the player will gain a buff in Mettle and Hustle when they select an unorthodox or humorous weapon to defend themselves with. This trope can be used in two main ways. First, a weapon that is legitimately useful, but still funny will trigger the buff. Second, a weapon that is funny, but useless will trigger the buff if they discard it in favor of a better weapon.

In prop comedy, the punch lines can be literal.

Her poster showed her with her eyes closed in deep concentration sitting in a chair around a circular table. A window was behind her. The axe murderer reflected in the glass.

Cassandra Hughes is The Psychic.

She also had two tropes.

The Anguish!

Type: Healing/Action

Archetype: Psychic

Aspect: Seer

Stat Used: Moxie

Those gifted with psychic abilities rarely get their supernatural knowledge for free. In movies, they are often the vehicle by which the audience and other characters learn of the horrors that have happened to others. Sometimes their connection is so strong that they can intuit when their loved ones are in pain. Often, they can feel the pain themselves.

Health Monitor: This trope gives the player the ability to see allies’ health-related statuses on the red wallpaper even without looking at them.

With this trope equipped, the player will be able to deflect pain and reduce the severity of injuries from allies by psychically “sharing” their pain. When an ally is injured, acting as if you feel the pain too will show the audience the severity of the injury and demonstrate stakes, making the necessity of the ally getting severely injured less important to the narrative.

Beware: When you start using the trope, the pain will be pretend. You’ll know it’s working when the pain becomes real. Carousel doesn’t like to be cheated.

Spectrum of Magic: Natural -> High-Supernatural

Natural world: This trope can only be used when the player can see the injured ally and the level of healing will be limited to pain and nonvisible injuries. The player has no in-universe psychic ability but is very empathetic.

High-Supernatural: This ability can be used from any location and, at the highest levels, may even work to prevent tremendous, obvious injury to the point that clever enemies will notice. The player has explicit psychic, magical, or otherwise supernatural abilities.

If performed remotely, the injured ally will go Off-Screen intermittently as the Player becomes the focus and cries out in pain.

You’ve probably heard of living vicariously through someone else, but what about dying?

~

We are not abandoned…

Type: Buff/Perk

Archetype: Psychic

Aspect: Exorcist

Stat Used: Moxie

As mortals face the horrors hidden in the darkness, they wither in the absence of hope, the absence of faith in a higher power. Sometimes, a character has to remind their allies that light does not die in the shadows.

With this trope equipped, the player will be able to keep their allies’ spirits high by reinforcing a narrative that a higher power is in control. The higher power could be a god, fate, their dead loved ones, humanity, or even the universe itself. The more they reinforce this narrative and theme, the more courage and optimism their allies will feel.

When done well, this trope can heal Incapacitation, certain forms of spiritual Infection, and even buff Grit.

Indeed, the light does not die in the darkness. It is the darkness, that dies in the light. Or something like that.

They were both at Plot Armor 11. They were brand new.

I just stared. New players already? That felt… early.

Eventually, the woman glanced over and saw me.

“Hello?” she asked cautiously.

“Yes?” I answered.

“Oh,” she said. “Sorry to bother you. We’re looking for our brother Andrew, Andrew Hughes.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. “He wrote us a letter. Told us to meet him here. Do we have the right place?”

I wasn’t prepared for this.

“Just a second,” I said. I raised my voice, “Guys,” I yelled as loudly as I could without freaking out the new players. “Guys. Antoine, Kimberly, Dina!”

It didn’t take long for them to arrive. Antoine was carrying his bat. When they rounded the corner and saw me, they were confused. When they saw the new players, they were even more confused.

Antoine immediately tried to take control of the situation.

“Hey you all,” he said smoothly, throwing his bat back out of sight. “You new to town?”

“Yeah,” the woman said. “We’re here for the Centennial. Our older brother got us jobs. He works at,” she glanced at the note, “Hallowed Heart Hospital. They’re doing a booth or something. He needed some help. We were supposed to meet someone here that will tak—”

“Is this a haunted house?” her brother interrupted. He pointed at the boarded-up windows. “It looks like a haunted house.”

“A haunted house?” Antoine asked.

“For the Centennial. It’s a horror thing, right?” Isaac asked.

“Oh, right. It’s kind of a haunted house, yeah,” Antoine said.

Isaac nodded. “Most haunted houses get the looks right. So rarely do they capture the smell of death this accurately.”

His sister nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Are any of you the people who are supposed to bring us into town?” she asked.

Antoine looked over at me.

“Yeah,” I said. “We’ll go with you.”

“What did you say your brother’s name was?” Kimberly asked.

“Andrew Hughes,” Isaac answered with a grin. “Dr. Andrew Hughes, actually. He’s the smart one. I’m the good-looking one. And Cassie’s the girl.”

“Shut up,” Cassandra said under her breath kicking her heel back into his shin. She turned back to us. "If you can help us find him, that would be great."

He laughed at her reaction.

“Just a second,” I said as Antoine, Kimberly, Bobby, Dina and I huddled around the side of the house.

“What do we do?” Bobby asked.

“Was Andrew Hughes one of the vets?” I asked.

“Did you talk to anyone when we were at Dyer’s Lodge?” Kimberly asked.

“I talked to you guys,” I said.

“No,” Antoine said. “There was no Andrew Hughes. He must have arrived a while back. We don’t know how long they were waiting to be brought here.”

He had a point. Dina hadn’t arrived in Carousel until ten years after she turned down the road to get here.

“So, we need to find a way to ask them what year it is,” I said. “Not that it’s a priority. Their brother is dead regardless.”

“We could ask who they voted for in the last election,” Dina suggested.

“That’s not exactly the best ice breaker depending on what the answer is,” Antoine said.

“Look,” I said. “None of this matters. There are new players and that means one thing. Get your stuff packed.”

Antoine nodded. “Looks like we’re heading out.”

And he was right.

Because new players meant one thing. Carousel would try to get them to play through a storyline.

“Alright, you two,” Antoine said. “We’re going to go with you. I don’t know your brother myself, but we can go into town with you and help you find the way.”

“That would be great,” Cassie said with a polite smile.

The rest of us took a few moments to gather our things. Kimberly carried the Atlas in the cloth bag Anna had wrapped it in. She had activated her Luggage Tag. The bag felt light and, while not empty, you would not know a huge book was in the bag just to look at it.

The sun was almost gone from the sky. We were ready for a long hike in the dark, but that was not to be.

As we got down to Olde Hill Road, something in the distance was stirring up dirt.

After a close look, we saw what it was.

A horse carriage.

It was solid black, as were the horses that pulled it. Two lanterns were attached to the front.

That didn’t happen when we arrived. The vets had prevented it.

This was the carriage that would take us to the first part of the Throughline.

It was time to see the Tutorial.