Passerine Hills JaB

config.footer.center: "{embed passage: 'Saves'}" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" config.body.transition.name: "none" config.style.page.color: "#222222 on #d2dde6" config.style.dark.page.color: "#d2dde6 on #222222" config.style.page.link.color: "#222222" config.style.dark.page.link.color: "#d2dde6" config.style.backdrop: "#d2dde6" -- <center> <h1>Passerine Hills</h1> <h3>Just a Bite</h3> <h5>[Amare Fest Version]</h5> </center> [align center] [[Intro]]

SAVES <div id="popup-save" style='display:none;visibility: hidden;'> <div id="popup-save-wrapper"> <div id="popup-titlebar"> <h2 id="popup-title">SAVES</h2> X </div> <div id="popup-body"> Here, you will be able to save and download your current progress, or load a pre-existing save file! {load save} - {save to file} </div> </div> </div>

<pre><code> window.chapbookSave = { get fileName() { const [m, date, hour] = new Date().toJSON().match(/(.+)T(.+)(?=\.)/); return engine.story.name() + '-save-' + date + '-' + hour; }, extension: '.tw-save', export(encode = true) { let json = JSON.stringify({ ifid: engine.story.ifid(), state: engine.state.saveToObject() }); if (encode) json = btoa(json.replace(/[^\x00-\x7F]/g, m => `UNI(${m.codePointAt(0)})`)); const url = URL.createObjectURL(new Blob([json], { type: 'text/plain' })), link = document.createElement('a'); link.href = url; link.download = this.fileName + this.extension; link.click(); requestAnimationFrame(() => URL.revokeObjectURL(url)); }, decode(json) { //is encoded if (json[0].trim() !== '{') json = atob(json).replace(/UNI$(\d+)$/g, (m, n) => String.fromCodePoint(n)); let data; try { data = JSON.parse(json); } catch (e) { throw new Error(`Couldn't parse file into a usable object. Save file broken.`); } if (data.ifid !== engine.story.ifid()) throw new Error(`Save file comes from another game!`); return data; }, import() { const dataHandler = data => { engine.state.restoreFromObject(this.decode(data).state); }; const input = document.createElement('input'); input.type = 'file'; input.accept = this.extension; input.onchange = () => { const reader = new FileReader(); reader.onload = () => dataHandler(reader.result); reader.readAsText(input.files[0]); }; input.click(); } }; customElements.define('import-link', class extends HTMLElement { constructor() { super(); this.addEventListener('click', () => chapbookSave.import()); this.addEventListener('keyup', e => { if (e.key === 'Enter') chapbookSave.import(); }); this.setAttribute('tabindex', '0'); this.setAttribute('role', 'link'); this.setAttribute('title', 'Load game from file'); this.classList.add('link'); } }); customElements.define('export-link', class extends HTMLElement { constructor() { super(); this.addEventListener('click', () => chapbookSave.export()); this.addEventListener('keyup', e => { if (e.key === 'Enter') chapbookSave.export(); }); this.setAttribute('tabindex', '0'); this.setAttribute('role', 'link'); this.setAttribute('title', 'Download save file'); this.classList.add('link'); } }); </code></pre>

config.footer.left: "{back link}" -- <details><summary>THE HOUSES</summary> Just so you know, I'm not explaining the houses because I think you're stupid, I'm explaining because I don't know if the same houses with the same rules exist in the future and I'd rather play it safe. There are three dorms, or houses, here: Lyrebird, White Crow, and Sparrow. All of this builds a hierarchy that we've got there. <details><summary>LYREBIRD</summary> Lyrebird is the most exclusive house. You get there because of one (or more) of four reasons. One: you're a legacy student. Two: you're insanely, incomprehensibly rich. Three: you're so iconic that placing you anywhere else would be wrong. Four: someone on the Board decided to put you there for some reason. People in Lyrebird don't have to submit collaterals and they can actually customize their rooms to a higher degree than everyone else. </details> <details><summary>WHITE CROW</summary> White Crow is the biggest house. It's nothing special because of that, since almost everyone will be there. Ironic with a name like that. </details> <details><summary>SPARROW</summary> Sparrow is the smallest house. It's for scholarship students, if they're there. The entire existence of Sparrow is kinda sad because it's clear that nobody cares about it as much as they should and it was definitely just an afterthought. Fucked up, isn't it? </details> </details> <details><summary>COLLATERAL</summary> Fancy word for blackmail material, really; anything you wouldn't want the press to get a hold of, like an embarrassing secret or something that'd get you cancelled. If you break the "absolutely no telling or showing what's going on in Passerine Hills" rule or make some other giant mistake like revealing someone else's collateral, your collateral gets released to the public. </details> <details><summary>TO TURN VOID</summary> When your collateral turns void, it means that it's no longer relevant. This might be because you revealed it yourself to the public, a nosy journalist got into your business, the public found out on their own, that kind of fun stuff. </details> <details><summary>TO GO VOID</summary> When you go void, you leave Passerine Hills for good before your time here is over. I don't know why it's so similar to turning void, okay? Just try to not get the two confused. </details> <details><summary>TO GO NULL</summary> When you go null, you reveal your collateral yourself. It doesn't have to be to the public, you can go null with people in private. That meaning evolved a little and it's also used in a joking way, like, admitting to an embarrassing secret. You can say something like "she went null about being a Swiftie" or whatever. </details> <details><summary>LIFE BEFORE</summary> That's the life that you had before money and/or fame. Some people have it, some people don't. I did. </details> <details><summary>WALK OF SHAME</summary> This is what happens after someone fucks up and their collateral gets released. It usually means that they have to leave Passerine Hills for good so they get this whole entourage of staff that helps them move out of their dorm. People like to gather and watch as the person that got kicked out and the whole staff parade walk to the Golden Gates – that's the walk of shame. </details> <details><summary>TO GO NULLCLEAR</summary> When you go nullclear, you're revealing someone else's collateral to the public with the full knowledge that it'll lead to your collateral being released as well. You must really hate someone and/or have nothing to lose if you do that. </details>

config.header.left: "Intro" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### Hi. It's Tiffany. Tiffany Ragnell. Yes, that influencer - I'll spare the introduction, you probably know who I am. If you're reading this, you probably were searching for something in the Passerine Hills Library and accidentally found this instead of whatever you wanted to find. Sorry about the disappointment. You can put it down and we'll forget about the whole thing, I won't be mad. But do you really want to miss out on a storytime? I know you've probably heard so much about the traditions of this place already that it makes you want to hurl but you need to hear me out on this one. From the very beginning of Passerine Hills to, like, the early 2000s, there was this phenomenon where one person just couldn't keep their mouth shut and absolutely had to let the world know their little embarrassing moments and spicy secrets. Since they couldn't really *tell* anyone (are you still doing collaterals in the future? consult the "lore" section if you have no idea what I mean), they wrote everything down, hid it, and waited for some other person in the future to find it, so that the story is read while staying behind the Gates. No rules get broken this way, win-win situation. I'm bringing it back. There's so much that happened to me here and everyone I can talk to about it right now already knows everything there is to know. It'll be a bit tame at the beginning but trust me, things get wild at some point. I'll spare you the boring bits about work and school itself because this isn't what I need to get off my chest, and it probably isn't something you'd want to read about anyway. For a variety of reasons, I'm not going to tell you everything here. Consider this to be... a sample. Just a bite out of a bigger meal so you can find out if you want more. If you don't, you'll just put it back where you found it, if you do... I'll tell you where to find more later. And just for legal reasons, all of the things I write about here are totally alleged, hearsay, rumor, fanfic, whatever you want to call it. Believe what you want to believe. To not waste your time any further: [[everything begins on that one night, October 18th...|Terrell Hall]]

config.header.left: "1 - Terrell Hall" config.header.right: "October 18" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### It's yet another Friday party in Passerine Hills. Every Friday since the beginning of school year in August, without fail, a party happens. The main organizer of the whole thing is Izzy Terrell, from the same Terrells that the stupid Terrell Hall I'm in right now was named after. Go figure why the party's a sacred, untouchable thing, even if it's not entirely compliant with rules and regulations. And every Friday, I appear in the Terrell Hall with my bestie, Holly. I come with her and I leave with her. That's how things always are. And yet, she's nowhere to be found, no texts answered, nothing, while I'm having the worst night of my life – well, at least the worst night of my life *so far*. My head feels like it's being continuously split in half with a dull, rusty axe. The pain waxes and wanes with the rhythm of the music that's being played at the party, and it's fucking hyperpop clearly made by someone who probably has far too much fun with drugs. I know, that doesn't narrow down anything in the hyperpop scene, but there's really nothing else that I can say about it. It's loud. It's fast. It's *killing* me. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(whispered)` Holly, where the fuck are you... [align left] I haven't felt this nauseous since that one time someone spammed my email with gore. I'm not really meant to look at that inbox, that's a job for other people, but I did it anyway, out of curiosity, and you know, some people take twisted pleasure from knowing they fucked up someone's day. Especially if that person is a dumb bleached blonde whose job is taking selfies. ...anyway. My head is fucking killing me, and it's this type of pain that makes you want to die, or at least end the pain by any means necessary. Unfortunately, the two usually overlap, so my thoughts are pretty dark right now. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...fuck... [align left] There's that primal instinct in people that tells them to lie down when they feel bad, and so, I slide down the wall and curl up as much as I can, trying to shield my eyes and ears from the bright lights and insanely loud music. As you may guess, it doesn't really help a lot, but something is still far better than absolute nothing. I know that if I stay here, I'll most likely just throw up in the hallway, and if anyone sees it, I'm totally done socially, but I really can't find any strength in me to move. There's two things on my mind right now: *fuck, I'm going to die here* and *Holly, if I survive this, I'll kill you*. [align center] ~~???~~ Is everything okay...? [align left] I can't even tell whose voice it is. It's soft and warm, with a hint of a definitely non-American accent, but I don't really care about anything except the fact that the question is absolutely fucking *stupid*. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Do I *look* okay to you? ~~???~~ ...no. Can I help you? [align left] See, I don't really like accepting random help from people. Usually, there's always something hiding behind it, usually an implied debt of some sort. I've learned a long time ago that there's almost nothing that comes for free. And yet, I don't really feel like I have a choice other than to accept the offer, mostly because I don't think that being curled up in the corner while your head is exploding is a particularly cute or sexy look for me. So I open my eyes, just for a while, to see who I'll be owing my soul to when the whole thing is over. The corridor lights blind me and for a moment, my dinner threatens to leave me. I'm a strong girl, though, so I suppress that and try to focus my vision enough to see the person standing above me clearly, or at least as clearly as possible at the moment. Just don't look at the lights... I almost sigh with relief when I finally realize who's above me from the vague, blurry details I can see right now. Clare. It's fucking Clare Dumont, thank God, hallelujah. It's Clare, the girl who literally volunteers in the infirmary for... some reason. It's Clare, who never asks for anything in return for her help. Or at least I've heard so from Holly, and Holly is rarely wrong when it comes to people. Never in my entire life have I thought I'll be this happy to see her. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah, my head's fucking killing me. [align left] Clare kneels right next to me. I can feel her gaze on me as she's trying to assess what's wrong. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Poor you. Did you drink too much, took any drugs? ~~TIFFANY~~ The fuck- *no*, it's just- my head. [align left] As eloquent as always. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Just so we're on the same page: you won't be in any trouble if you took something, okay? [align left] If anyone else was stalling like this, I would probably get really fucking angry. But there is something in her voice, some kind of softness and care that even I can't get mad, and I guess that she needs to know that, just in case. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I didn't take anything, just- *fuck*, can you take me to my room? ~~CLARE~~ Sure. Here, let me... [align left] She stands up, then helps me do the same. All of this movement is enough to make the pain way worse for a moment, as if someone decided they had enough of me and decided to drive some ice picks right into my head. Unfortunately, that reminds me of a particular image from that gore collection I mentioned earlier, and that memory, combined with pain and all the light, is enough to make me audibly gag. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(clearly concerned)` Do you want to- ~~TIFFANY~~ No, just- let's just go. ~~CLARE~~ Close your eyes if that helps you. Just put your arm around me and I'll, uh... put mine around your waist, if that's fine by you. It's for stability. [align left] Of course, I hate being touched by people I don't really know that well – who doesn't? But beggars can't really be choosers. I let Clare put her arm around my waist and I throw my arm around her shoulders for some more stability, then shut my eyes tight to not have to look at anything; I don't think I can handle both light and movement right now. I briefly wonder about Holly, but at this point, I'm too busy trying to not throw up. I'll see her tomorrow. [[I always do.|Guardian Angel1]]

config.header.left: "2 - Guardian Angel" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### The corridors of White Crow are predictably quiet and dark. Well, they *were* like this until the motion sensors detected us and the bright lights started shining all over the place. I grit my teeth while keeping my eyes shut as tightly as possible. How did I make it past the flight of stairs? How did we manage to cross the distance between Terrell Hall and White Crow? Did anyone see how pathetic I look right now? Have I even told Clare where to go? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ We're here. Uh... You have the keys, don't you? ~~TIFFANY~~ Mhm. [align left] I suppose I told her, then. I'm absolutely fucked because I don't remember when did that happen. Clare finally lets me go so I can comfortably search for my keys in my pockets. I can still feel the lingering warmth where her arm used to be and it's a really, really weird feeling. Like an afterimage of a touch that's slowly growing colder and colder. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Do you want me to do this for you? ~~TIFFANY~~ I'll be fine. [align left] It takes me a while to get the door to open, mostly because at this stage, I can barely see. The sound of the lock clicking just like it should was sweeter than anything else. I just stumble inside the room, take my coat off, head straight towards my bed, and throw myself onto it without any care for dignity or maintaining my image. I mean, why would I care at this point? Clare literally saw me curled up, all pathetic and on the verge of throwing up. One more display of helplessness won't make any difference. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Do you have anything to drink? Water, preferably? [align left] So, she followed me in. Great. See, I'm fine with having guests, but maybe not now, when all I want is to fall asleep. Good fucking God, I need it, desperately. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...aren't you making yourself too comfortable here? ~~CLARE~~ I'm asking because I think you could use a painkiller... and it's better to not swallow pills dry. You could choke. [align left] Way to make a bitch out of yourself, Tiff! You got yourself a consistent branding and you stick to it, congratulations! [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Uh... there should be some on the table... wait- ~~CLARE~~ Don't worry, I'll get it. [align left] Something inside of me keeps screeching about how someone else is now going through my things, as if someone searching for a reusable water bottle was about to throw my whole wardrobe upside down. I tell it to shut up because, well, what else can I do right now? It feels like any move is going to make me throw up, and I certainly don't want to get some poor cleaner to take care of that... or have Clare clean it up, since I'm pretty much sure she would, and that'd be even more awkward than this entire situation. I think I'd die if that happened, actually. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Here you go. Uh, you should sit up for that. Take your time. [align left] So obviously I act like a good girl and sit on my bed, even though moving doesn't exactly feel like a good idea right now. Through half-shut eyes – I don't even want to fully open them so that the bright moonlight coming from the window doesn't assault them – I can see Clare's face. Round, pale, freckled, and... *blurry*. In her left hand, there's my trusty reusable water bottle – the second most appealing thing in the world right now. In her right hand, there is a small white pill – the painkiller, which is the *first* most appealing thing in the world right now. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Wait. Where'd you get *that* from? [align left] I know, I know. Don't look a gifted horse into its mouth and shit. But the infirmary is incredibly stingy with giving out anything, let alone giving a surplus that you can give out to others. Apparently it's because of some incident that happened ages ago, and I guess they don't want to repeat that, but let's be real, you can get much worse stuff from Izzy Terrell without bigger problems. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Oh, this? Agreement with the infirmary. I'm actually on volunteer duty at every party in case anyone needs some basic assistance. [align left] Of course. Of course Clare volunteers in the infirmary and she's such a good girl that they just let her bend some rules. This is a perfectly reasonable explanation, so I take the bottle and the pill, praying to whatever's up there that it's not bitter and that I don't choke as I swallow, since I'm totally not used to this. Fortunately, I don't. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ It's good that you questioned me, though. [align left] I can't help but notice that she sounds... happy? Amused, maybe? I open my eyes a little more, and... well, she *is* smiling. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean... why wouldn't I? No offence, but I don't even know you that well. ~~CLARE~~ Not many people do. [align left] She looks away. Seems like she's having *a moment*, so I just stare into the distance, at the entrance to the walk-in closet that I'm very fortunate to have here, until she looks back at me again. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Nevermind. I need to stay here for a tiny bit more to be absolutely sure that you're okay. I promise I'll be gone after that. Can I sit down...? [align left] She points on my bed. Normally, I'd ask her if she's okay, because this is absolutely an invasion of my personal space, but let's be real, this space was invaded several times already today, so it's not like it matters anymore. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ [[I guess so.|Guardian Angel2]]

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- Clare sits down. There is some distance between us, but it's still close enough for me to be able to smell her perfume – a faint, inoffensive mix of vanilla and something flowery. Thank God it's not too intense, I don't think I'd be able to handle that now. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I hope I'm not too close? ~~TIFFANY~~ Didn't you literally have your arm around my waist like, five minutes ago? Chill. ~~CLARE~~ I- Uh... that doesn't mean I'm entitled to your personal space *now*! [align left] She looks away; her long, blond hair now hides her face from me completely. Guess I went a little bit too far with that comment and got poor Clare embarrassed. I take this moment to close my eyes and realize that getting away from all the lights was clearly a good decision. My head's still throbbing and it's terrible, sure, but I no longer feel like I'm going to die. Either the painkiller works this fast, which I doubt, or the placebo effect started kicking in. Good. The first thing I see when I open my eyes again is, well, obviously Clare, staring at me. She's got those weirdly blue eyes – not uncanny, don't get me wrong, just... it's that type of color you'd see in a cloudless sky on a really nice summer day. Completely out of place in a typical human being color palette, but somehow, completely natural on Clare. The moonlight that fills the room gives her skin a certain type of glow that I'm sure no skincare routine could ever give you. All of this, combined with her blindingly white vintage cardigan, makes her look totally *ethereal*. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean... I'm used to it. ~~CLARE~~ You're used to it, but that doesn't mean it's okay. [align left] Can't deny, this answer kind of stuns me. It feels weird to hear it being said out loud, not because it's wrong – it isn't – but because I'm used to people thinking that I can never complain about people staring at me, due to being who I am. Then again, it's not like anybody cares behind the Golden Gates. I'm overthinking things, am I not? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Do you feel any better now? [align left] She asks me with a small smile on her face. It's so... soft. It even looks like she might legitimately care about my answer. Something about it almost makes me want to smile back in response. *Almost*. You need to remember that I still kind of want to throw up. I just give her a little nod as an answer, small enough to not trigger any weird feelings or pain. Clare stands up, dusts off her long, wine red skirt and picks up her worn out messenger bag off of the floor – how didn't I notice it before? I guess pain really blinds you to things. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Get some sleep. If things are still bad tomorrow, go to the infirmary or come find me. ~~TIFFANY~~ Don't you think I won't be able to if things will be this bad again? ~~CLARE~~ Oh! God, I'm so- you're right. Wait. [align left] She opens up her bag, then takes out a pen and a small notebook. Can't help but wonder what else she's got there. She kneels down and puts the notebook on my bed, then, after a short while of scribbling, she tears out the page and puts it on the nightstand. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You could literally just tell me your number and I'd save it in my phone. ~~CLARE~~ Do you want to have a bright light shining straight at your face right now? [align left] I cringe violently at the very thought. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I thought so. Well. Take care and goodnight. [align left] She heads towards the door. As she opens it, the motion sensors outside activate and the warm, bright lights of the corridor completely envelop her. Something about them makes her blond hair look *golden*. She turns her head around again to send me a last smile, as soft as the one before. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Clare, wait. [align left] I have to say something; it feels like I can't let her go without a last word. Clare's head tilts just a little bit to the side and her smile widens ever so slightly. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Yes? ~~TIFFANY~~ ...thanks. For helping me. [align left] I don't really like thanking people. It's not because I'm a bitch, though maybe I kinda am, but because thanking someone means you acknowledge that they did something for you, and from here, you might put yourself in a situation where you'll have to repay them. But I know that Clare won't want anything from me, so it's safe to say it now, and good God, does it feel nice. And Clare blushes. Clare fucking blushes, and I can see it as clear as day. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(softly)` Anytime. [align left] The door closes so gently that I can barely hear the click of the lock and I'm left alone. Jesus fucking Christ. I should probably go to sleep, but I don't, instead opting to stare at the door, as if that'd make anything better. It's quiet until people start coming back from the Terrell Hall, breaking the silence with barely contained laughter and ear-splitting door slamming. I listen in, trying to pick up Holly's laugh, but it's all for nothing. Maybe it's because she lives on the floor below me. Must be that. When things quiet down again, *"You're used to it, but that doesn't mean it's okay"* starts ringing in my head and I just can't get it out of there, just like I can't get Clare's softness and that goddamn blush out of my thoughts. It's weird. I haven't even thought that much about her until tonight. She was just always in the background, and sometimes, in hushed whispers and gossip that I didn't really remember, but she was never on my mind. And now, I think of her when I let my mind idly wander. There are just questions that I lowkey want to know an answer to. Why does she want to help people this badly? Why doesn't she want anything in return? What is someone like her even doing here, behind the Golden Gates? ...too much thinking. Once the painkiller fully kicks in and my head becomes blissfully empty, [[I finally slip into sleep.|Dream a Little Dream...]]

config.header.left: "3 - Dream a Little Dream..." config.header.right: " " config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### I'm falling. I cut through the air so fast that it feels like I'm going to fall apart from the speed alone. I try to reach out, to grab something and hold onto it, but there's nothing – nothing above me, nothing below me, nothing as far as the eye can see. I don't think there's a way to nicely describe it. It's just nothing. So I'm falling, and it's been an eternity here. No move that I make helps. I try to scream, but my voice just doesn't come out, no matter how hard I try. Entire years pass right before me with no trace. Nothing I can do. Maybe I'm just meant to fall. Maybe things are meant to be this way. I close my eyes – it changes nothing – and let gravity do its job. If I'm at peace with falling, maybe it won't be that bad. [align center] ~~■■■■■~~ ■■■■■■■? [align left] I can't hear anything properly but there's something – someone – talking to me. I open my eyes again and see nothing, obviously. I try to answer, but all that I say sounds like it's been put through three different compressions after being recorded with the world's cheapest microphone. But at least I'm making a sound, I guess. [align center] ~~■■■■■~~ ■■■'■ ■■■■ ■■. ■'■ ■■■■ ■■■ ■■■. [align left] I look around, trying to find the voice's source, and I see it – a light in the distance. I can't move myself towards it, but it moves itself towards me instead, and the closer it gets, the more it starts to resemble... something. The light is close now and it's blinding me, but I can't look away. After a while of staring, I can make out the outlines of someone's silhouette, and I just know that I'm looking at an angel. Her – I don't know how I know it's a woman, but it just feels right – wings are blocking out the darkness around. She extends her hand towards me, clearly so I can take it. I do. It just feels safe. I don't want to fall anymore. The angel wraps her wings around me and everything is right for a moment. [align center] ~~■■■■■~~ I can ■■■■ you. [align left] Everything gets brighter and brighter, and I slowly stop feeling anything. And then, there's [[nothing|The Search]] again.

config.header.left: "4 - The Search" config.header.right: "October 19" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### I'm never sleeping in my clothes ever again. It's this kind of thing that makes you feel absolutely miserable and dirty in ways you've never thought might be possible when you wake up. Fortunately, there's nothing that a really fucking hot shower won't fix. I'm in my cute little bathrobe and I really don't want to dress up yet, so I'm laying on my bed and staring at the ceiling. My head no longer hurts, but it feels like I got my brain taken out and replaced with a bunch of used makeup wipes while I was asleep. Not that it'd change anything when it comes to my intellect, but you know. It's 10pm, and there's still not a single sign of life from Holly. She never left me alone without an explanation like this before. If she wanted to leave earlier, she just told me, and we came back together. I already sent her a message to ask if we're going to meet up in the morning, as we always do, and she didn't even answer this one. Now, that's... concerning. I stand up. The notebook page with Clare's number on it is still there, and maybe I'd pay it a bit more attention if I wasn't feeling like something terrible either happened already or is about to happen. Seeing it gives me an idea, though. I dial Holly's number as I start pacing around to get some of that anxiety off of me, and... *This number is currently unavailable.* Now the panic really sets in. There is no time for outfit planning and makeup – even if there was, I don't think I'd be able to come up with something looking even remotely good, mostly because I'm shaking like a rabid chihuahua. No use going for breakfast because I don't think I'll be able to swallow anything with that knot in my throat. I need to make sure that Holly is fine before going back to having a normal day. The corridors are deathly quiet when I finally leave my room. It's been a while since I visited Holly, mostly because we tend to hang out either in some more public space or in my room, but I don't have to think too hard about where I need to go – I'm practically on autopilot when I arrive at her door. Some part of me still clings to the thought that I'm overreacting and everything is going to be alright. Maybe she's just asleep after a rough night, maybe she's already in the cafeteria, maybe she's with someone else, she's social like that. But she'd never let her phone die and she'd never leave me without a word for no reason, I'm sure of it. I knock on the door – or rather, I try, because it opens just a tiny bit after I hit it. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly...? [align left] No answer. I open the door a little bit more to get a better look. The entire room looks like she didn't let the cleaning team enter for weeks. Her pink dresses and sweaters are all over the place. Empty cans and bottles *everywhere*. The bed is completely unmade and even her beloved plushie, an absolutely ancient black kitten that she named Dolly, lies next to her nightstand, face down. Holly loves it too much to let it rot on the floor. Something had to happen. Something had to... I want to move but I just can't. I'm standing in the doorway and trying to process, and that feeling of dread creeps all over me. What do I do now? Where do I go? Check the infirmary? Go to the guards? What the fuck is going on? [align center] ~~???~~ Looking for Holly? [align left] I turn around to check who the voice belongs to. Behind me stands Ana Vitória, or Vi, as we all call her. She's not a celebrity or anything herself but she certainly has an aura of one, probably inherited from her mother, who's a pretty big deal in Brazilian TV. You wouldn't find a single person that doesn't like Vi in the entire Passerine Hills – she's just got a way to get along with everyone. That's why she's on Izzy Terrell's team for Friday party planning – she's handling a lot of things related to invitations and gathers all sorts of info from people to make sure that there's no conflict or weird stuff going on. And this makes her particularly useful to me at this moment. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah. Any idea where she might be? ~~VI~~ Uh, no. I thought *you* might know. *Fuck.* See... [align left] She opens up the sports bag that's slung over her shoulder. From what I've seen, she's using it instead of a backpack or a purse for whatever reason – probably to match her the overall aesthetic that she's trying to curate with that varsity jacket and tennis skirt combo. It's all in neat shades of white and green, and that really works well with her tan skin and dark hair. So you can imagine how out of place it felt when the thing she took out of her bag turned out to be pink. [align center] ~~VI~~ She, uh... left this. [align left] Holly's phone, I have no doubt about it. It's her phone case with all those faded doodles all over it. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ It's dead, isn't it? ~~VI~~ *Extra dead*. [align left] She flips the phone over so that I can see the screen... or whatever is left of it. It's cracked into tiny little pieces in a way that definitely makes it unusable. You don't get cracks like that from just dropping your phone once. It had to be done on purpose. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ How the fuck did *that* happen? ~~VI~~ I don't know. The last time I saw her was yesterday, when she left with Izzy, but she didn't come back. I thought she was with you. ~~TIFFANY~~ She *wasn't*. ~~VI~~ And you didn't check on her when you were coming back? [align left] There's no judgment in Vi's voice but I feel the need to defend myself anyway. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Just ask Clare, she'll tell you why I *couldn't*. [align left] Vi looked mildly concerned until I mentioned Clare's name; after that, it's definitely a look of absolute panic. It's unnatural to see her like this, without that trademark confident stare. That doesn't help me calm down at all. [align center] ~~VI~~ Did something happen? [align left] She looks me up and down like she's trying to find some sign of injury or whatever on me and a shiver goes down my spine. This is meant to be a safe place for us all. This is meant to be a place where we come to rest from the fame and the drama, outside of all the regular social stuff that's inevitable when you have a bunch of people gathered in the same spot in the middle of nowhere. The thought that someone could still get hurt here, combined with the sight of the smashed screen and that mess in Holly's room makes me feel legitimately nauseous. [align center] ~~VI~~ Tiffany? ~~TIFFANY~~ ...had a migraine, that's all. Pretty strong one. [align left] Vi sighs with relief but that worried expression doesn't disappear from her face at all. I wonder if she's thinking the same things I'm thinking right now. [align center] ~~VI~~ Okay, so, nothing suspicious happened? Nothing- ~~TIFFANY~~ Nothing. ~~VI~~ `(cautiously)` Before *and* after Clare took you out of the Terrell Hall? [align left] I don't like how she said it, like she's scared of the answer. She's staring at me with her dark, almost black eyes and her grip on Holly's phone tightens just a little bit. I swear she expects me to drop something catastrophic on her, like she's preparing herself for bad news. Like she knows something I don't. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah, before *and* after. Why? ~~VI~~ Okay, good, forget it. Listen, Holly talked to Em last night, maybe she'll know something. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...Em? ~~VI~~ Emmeline. [align left] That's what I thought and that's exactly what I didn't want to hear. You don't just go to talk to Emmeline about the weather or to have a nice chat – she's all about the *business*, which in her case means that she's willing to get you out of trouble with just about any institution you might have a problem with in Passerine Hills. Us, White Crow guys, are still somewhat bound to rules and regulations, so she's not left without any work to do. Need to smooth things over with the guards? Go to Emmeline. Need to get a package that won't go through the screening on the entry? Go to Emmeline. Fucked up in any way? Go to Emmeline. Of course, she doesn't do any of this for free. Sometimes, she takes money for it – frankly, pocket change amounts for rich bitch standards. Other times, she asks for a piece of information – a rumor, a secret, anything that might give her leverage against you or others. But the most terrifying payment she takes has to be a favor – a promise that you'll do something for her at some point in time. Nobody admitted to owing her anything but rumors spread. Some say that she's getting invites to events this way or that she asks you to go null with her, others say that she's asking for help with literal crimes, and in the end, nobody really knows. That's why it's terrifying. You don't know what she's going to ask for, and since she's besties with Izzy Terrell, you don't want to refuse her, just in case she decides to use this connection in some way. So if Holly had to go to her, she had to be in trouble in one way or another. There was no other explanation. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Alright. Alright, let's go. [align left] Vi gives me Holly's phone. I put it in my pocket to not lose it and we head out. As we get outside, I can't help but notice that Vi keeps throwing curious glances at me. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ What? ~~VI~~ Are you scared of her? ~~TIFFANY~~ Excuse me? ~~VI~~ Are you scared of Em? [align left] She doesn't seem to be joking. Complete poker face. There's no way she doesn't know what Emmeline's reputation is like because it's the main course on the Passerine Hills Gossip Menu. Nobody knows where this girl came from, fuck knows why she's here in the first place, her name returns no real results in any search engine you might try. It's like she came out of nowhere and instantly got herself into this weird position of power where she can negotiate whatever she wants in a matter of what, a month or two? It went as far as people speculating she's in witness protection, that maybe her family is all lawyers that got themselves into something they shouldn't, and that's why she's... like this. That seems to be the most popular theory – that nasty scar on her face is proof enough that she must've been through some things I'd rather not think about. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You aren't? ~~VI~~ No, why would I be? ~~TIFFANY~~ Nevermind. Where are we going, anyway? [align left] There aren't many people outside, probably because it's cold as fuck. I look around, just in case I might catch a glimpse of Holly somewhere. Nothing. [align center] ~~VI~~ The library. Wait, did you even eat yet? [align left] She sounds like she actually cares or something. I wonder how much of her niceness is an act and how much of it is genuine – you just can't be friends with everyone, after all. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I'll deal with it later. ~~VI~~ Got it. But if you need a protein bar or something, just lemme know. I always have an extra or two. [align left] Normally I wouldn't even begin to entertain the idea but my good image is already on a trial, since I'm wearing whatever I first grabbed from my closet and I've got no makeup on, and I don't think my barely existing dignity could take another hit if my stupid stomach growled in the worst possible moment. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ If you offer. [align left] Vi raises her left brow; I wonder if she did this on purpose or if she just can't move the right brow at all. There's this scar that runs through it and it doesn't look very deep or thick, but you never know with those things. [align center] ~~VI~~ You're not allergic to peanuts, right? ~~TIFFANY~~ No. ~~VI~~ Great. [align left] She opens up her bag – quite a challenge, considering we're moving – and takes out one of the bars. For a second she wrestles with the wrapper, cursing under her breath in Portuguese, I assume. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You know, I can- ~~VI~~ I've got it, just... [align left] She stops, probably to focus all of her energy and attention on opening the damn thing. After an entire lifetime of waiting, she finally manages to do it and hands me the bar with a stupidly proud grin on her face. I just take it with a *thank you* nod and we go back to walking. The library is just around the corner but Vi slows down. [align center] ~~VI~~ Hey, can I ask something? [align left] My mouth is still absolutely full of dry, peanut-flavored mess, so I just nod. Maybe she wants to give me time to actually eat it before we go in. How considerate. [align center] ~~VI~~ Sorry, but- was Clare- was she *normal* yesterday? [align left] This is a really weird question but I think of Clare for a moment anyway while finishing the bar. I think of how she stayed to make sure I'm okay, how she left me her number to make sure I won't be left helpless if the situation continues, how her arm felt so warm around my waist, how weirdly ethereal she looked like in the moonlight, and I almost choke instead of swallowing because what the fuck am I even thinking about? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh, yeah. Yeah, nothing... nothing weird, I think. [align left] Vi just nods. No other reaction. She doesn't even let me ask any clarifying questions before she turns back to the library door and I wonder why would anyone even ask about something like this as [[I follow her in.|Deal with the Devil]]

config.header.left: "5 - Deal with the Devil" config.header.right: "October 19" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### I really love libraries. You know those kids that would rather spend their entire life tucked away with a book somewhere in the corner because the world is just a little bit too scary to confront today? That was me in the Life Before, believe it or not. So when I find myself inside the library, I can't help but feel safer, even if just for the short moment between our entrance and the inevitable meeting with Emmeline. The library building has two main parts: the older part where the library actually is and the modern one with the café that is there in case anyone will want to grab something while pulling an all-nighter studying. Maybe people who do it exist, I don't know, I'm not one of them, but coffee's pretty good here. We come here with Holly from time to time. I hopefully scan the café tables in an attempt to find her here but it'd be too good if I found her now. [align center] ~~VI~~ `(quietly)` She said she'll be here... she's never late, where is she... [align left] Vi looks around as well, trying to locate Emmeline, I assume. She curses under her breath – pretty much sure she threw a *caralho* in there, which is one of those Portuguese words that I learned to recognize as more and more Brazilians kept flooding my comment sections. [align center] ~~???~~ Viii~! [align left] We both turn around to find the source of the noise. I have to do a double take because it's just not possible but it clearly is. Emmeline is rapidly approaching us, coming from the library entrance's side. It's her, without a doubt. You can tell by just a quick glance at her hair: pitch black, save for the right half of her straight bangs, which is white for some reason. She's wearing her trademark navy blue suit and carrying that black briefcase that probably contains three centuries of blackmail material. But I still had to do a double take because Emmeline would never call anyone by their nickname; she's really adamant on using last names for everyone. She'd never call Vi, well... Vi. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Apologies, Vi, I was- [align left] Or she would, actually. She stops talking as soon as she sees me; her face, already paper-white, gets drained of all color there was, making the reddish scar on her cheek even more visible. This wasn't a mixup or a coincidence. She called her Vi again, *on purpose*, and she's aware that I heard it. I look at her, completely stunned. The top of her head is somewhere under my chin so she tilts her head up a little to look me back in the eye; the light coming from the glass roof reflects in her square glasses, hiding her eyes behind the glare. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Ah. *Ragnell*. ~~TIFFANY~~ > [[...did you just call her *Vi*?]] > [[Ah. Odenkirk.]]

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" emviunlock: true -- [align left] I know I should've kept my mouth shut but I couldn't control myself. Emmeline's jaw drops; it's just a split second of actual shock and her expression is back to the usual resting bitch face that she's got, but I know what I saw. I struck something with this question. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ You've misheard me, Ragnell. I said *hi*. [align left] We both know that she didn't – it's *Vee*, not the *Vi* like you'd have in, let's say, *violence*, so it's not even remotely similar. She's just hoping that I won't question her "correction". I won't, mostly because I'm not suicidal and I don't want her to destroy me, but also because I'm here to get info out of her and making her mad before she tells me the price of that *service* isn't the best move in general. {embed passage: 'Ah. Odenkirk.'}

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Now, with... *greetings* out of the way... may I know what you're doing here? [align left] Her accent sounds like it's been taken out of a 20th century movie – clear, formal, definitely giving the upper class vibe... and conveniently untraceable to any place. [align center] ~~VI~~ Em, calm down. I brought her with me. [align left] Emmeline takes a step back. She looks me up and down, then switches her attention to Vi. It's clear that she doesn't want me to be here or to talk to her at all and honestly, it's mutual. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ What for? ~~VI~~ Why don't you ask *her* why she's here? [align left] Vi's tone is weirdly soft and encouraging, like she's trying to convince a very stubborn child to be nice to someone. I guess that works because Emmeline sighs deeply and looks back at me again. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ I'm *listening*. ~~TIFFANY~~ I, uh- ~~EMMELINE~~ *Don't waste my time.* ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly talked to you yesterday. I need to know what happened. [align left] I don't know how I manage to keep my voice stable and calm like this. It's probably funny to you, the thought that I could be scared of someone like this, but you never had to face her. If I sound too desperate, I'm fucked. If I sound like I don't care, I'm fucked. And I can't afford to not know. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Holly? Holly Marchmont? We talked, that's true. Naturally, I can't divulge the exact contents of the conversation, but... I could tell you *something*. For the right price. ~~TIFFANY~~ Alright. How much? [align left] Emmeline gives me her trademark soulless smirk: the right corner of her lips rises while the left one stays unmoving, probably due to nerve damage that probably was the consequence of... whatever left that scar on her face. It's not the lack of symmetry that scares me but the way I can't see her eyes behind the glare in her glasses. The shiver that goes down my spine is so strong that I can't help but cringe. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ No need to be so *material*, Ragnell. [align left] Oh no. Oh fuck no. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ You'll just... repay me with a favor in the future, how about that? [align left] Well... ***fuck***. I must've sounded a bit too desperate. Now she knows that this *means something* to me, and that's a weakness that can be exploited. Sure, I could try to backpedal and seem more unbothered than I really am but I don't think she'll buy it – hell, I don't think I'd be able to *sell it* in the first place. But accepting this deal means that I'll have to do whatever she'll want me to do and I have no damn idea what someone like me could even offer her. She's not going to go back on it, I know it. So the only way is... [align center] ~~VI~~ Em, aren't you a bit too harsh? [align left] Both of us turn our attention to Vi immediately. I still can't see Emmeline's eyes but I'm sure that they're wide open in surprise. Mine surely are. You just don't tell Emmeline that she's doing something wrong. It's a death sentence and yet, Vi is here, casually lounging in the electric chair. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Aren't you- ~~VI~~ Let it go. It's *important* for her to know. [align left] This is surreal. I hide my hands behind my back and pinch myself to make sure that I'm not dreaming right now – and what a fucking dream it would be – but no, this is real. Vi seriously just cut Emmeline off and she doesn't seem to be sorry in any way. She's got her arms crossed on her chest, frowning with disappointment as Emmeline stares at her in absolute disbelief, not even trying to argue back. Between this and the nickname thing... there *must* be something going on between the two of them. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Vi... if I make an exception once and word gets out- ~~VI~~ I'll take care of any consequences. [align left] I stay quiet. Vi is clearly trying to fight for a better outcome for me and I'd have to be stupid to potentially kill that by saying something I shouldn't. The tension that's hanging between the two of them is so strong that I can practically feel it in my body – or maybe it's just the fact that I'm wasting my time here while not knowing where Holly is that's making me stressed. For a good while, they just stare each other down, neither of them wanting to budge, and I truly have no idea how Vi manages to not break. Emmeline takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose with a tired sigh. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Ragnell. I'll go easy on you, just this once. [align left] It takes all of my willpower to not sigh with relief right here and now. As Emmeline puts her glasses on again, I send Vi a grateful look. She just shrugs. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ But you're going to do a small thing for me and you'll do it as soon as I give you the info. No buts, no excuses. And you better not tell anyone about what happened here. ~~VI~~ Em- ~~EMMELINE~~ It's nothing big. Lady Ragnell over here will just have to be my page girl for a moment and deliver a message to Terrell. [align left] Oh, I see what it is now. She still needs a little power trip to keep herself going. Compared to waiting for whole eternity for God fucking knows what, though, it doesn't sound half bad, and since Vi mentioned Holly went somewhere with Izzy, I might as well just go and ask them as well. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Deal. ~~EMMELINE~~ Aww, good girl. ~~VI~~ Em, I don't think you should be telling her that. Anyway, I'll- I'll just get our seats. See you later, Tiffany. ~~TIFFANY~~ Uh, yeah. See you. [align left] I don't really want to dwell on what Emmeline said to me so let's just never mention that ever again. Vi retreats into the depths of the café and Emmeline stares at her all the way through, like she's trying to make sure that she's safe throughout the entire journey. This is when the unthinkable starts to enter my mind: the thought that Emmeline might, in fact, experience human feelings, and that some of them might even be something else than condescension and contempt. Maybe some of them are even warm. Maybe she's even capable of liking – or, dare I say, loving – someone, and this is why she didn't obliterate Vi on the spot after she went against her. You know that weird feeling that hits you when you realize you might've been thinking about someone in a really unfair way? [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Ragnell, if you don't want to pay attention, you might as well leave. [align left] Aaand poof, the feeling's gone. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Your info first. Marchmont talked to me yesterday, after we started wrapping the party up. She was clearly distressed, I could barely get what she was talking about. Absolutely nonsensical babbling most of the time but from what I've gathered... [align left] She looks around, making sure that nobody's listening in. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ `(whispered)` Whatever it is about... I don't think it's regular trouble with the school. It's something else, possibly something bigger. Trust me that I tried my best to find out but there's no negotiating with someone in a state of... emotional distress. I told her to come back once she's calm and I haven't heard from her since. This is the entire story. [align left] *Something bigger*. There's such a weight to those words. *Something bigger. Emotional distress*. Fuck. There must've been something I missed. Some sign, some clue, something, anything, but I have no idea how to find them or where to search. She didn't tell me anything suspicious. Think, Tiffany, think... [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ That was it, Ragnell. Time for your end of the bargain. [align left] Emmeline walks up to the nearest table in the cafe and throws her briefcase onto it. As she searches for something inside, I keep thinking about how stupid this shit is. I'm out there, running from one person to another and getting nothing but crumbs of information in return, all while Holly is God knows where, doing God knows what. I wish she could just walk in here, run up to me and tell me that she's fine. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Easy task. Even you shouldn't have trouble remembering what you're meant to do. You go to Lyrebird House, find Terrell, and give them this envelope. The man behind the desk won't let you go through without a pass because it's *Lyrebird* so I include the pass here too. If I find out you messed it up in any way, shape or form, you're dead. Do you understand? ~~TIFFANY~~ I do. [align left] She hands me a simple white envelope – quite thick, without any marks or writing on it – and a black card with *House Lyrebird* proudly displayed in gold letters in the middle. I've never been to Lyrebird before because I never had to go there but it's one of those places you keep wondering about. It's the aura of exclusivity, I suppose. I take the quest items from her and she sends me that trademark smirk of hers again. She puts her hand on my shoulder and pats it in an infuriatingly condescending way. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ You know, Ragnell... I've already sent all of this by email but there's something so charming about the good old ways. Good luck. ~~TIFFANY~~ Please never touch me again. [align left] Emmeline just raises her eyebrows – the right one is white to match the color of the bangs, I suppose, and I still wonder why someone like Emmeline would make that fashion choice – but she says nothing more. She gets back to her briefcase, makes sure everything inside is in its place and disappears into the café. I take a deep breath and make sure that I have the envelope and the card grasped as firmly as possible. At this point, I only hope that Izzy will have some more concrete information somehow. [[If not, I think I'm going to start committing crimes.|Breaking the Silence]]

config.header.left: "6 - Breaking the Silence" config.header.right: "October 19" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### I can't remember the last time I walked so fast. The sooner I get to Lyrebird, the sooner I get to talk to Izzy and maybe that'll finally clear something up. On my way, I'm trying to piece everything together: the disappearance, the broken phone, the mess in the room, the fact that Holly is in trouble of some sort, and that it apparently transcends the Golden Gates. It just doesn't feel real. She'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't she? We're friends, we're besties, we've been together here since the very beginning. It doesn't make sense. None of this makes any sense. [align center] ~~???~~ `(from somewhere behind me)` Stop. [align left] It's not a voice I recognize and I don't have time to stop for anyone. I don't even turn around because honestly, I don't really care. [align center] ~~???~~ Tiffany, stop. [align left] When I turn around, I'm fully ready to tell whoever is behind me to fuck right off because I just don't have patience for any of this. When I see who it is, though, that plan gets instantly abandoned. Tara. It's Tara fucking Talwar in her black Victorian dress and violently red makeup. I didn't even know she could *talk* until now – she never gives any interviews, never really talks to anyone, and there's literally no footage of her even speaking – so that's why I'm totally stunned. If you're interested in fashion or even just celebrity news, you probably saw Tara's work at shows or on the covers of magazines. She's not just a make-up artist, she's *the* make-up artist; while she sticks to the runway and editorial looks most of the time, since this is where her creativity really shines, she will sometimes benevolently look down upon us, non-models. If she agrees to work with you, it's a sign that you *really* made it. I won't lie to you: I wanted her to notice me but maybe now is not the best time for that. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Listen, I don't have- ~~TARA~~ Something happened yesterday. [align left] The usual rumor that goes around when it comes to Tara not speaking is that she's just too ashamed of her Indian accent; it's definitely there, don't get me wrong, but it absolutely *isn't* what makes her sound strange. It's the fact that she sounds like a broken text-to-speech, mechanically separating her syllables and having a completely flat tone. It takes me a while to realize that what she said wasn't a question but a statement. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Like what? ~~TARA~~ You didn't come back to the dorm with your friend and she didn't come back at all. Strange. ~~TIFFANY~~ Wait, how do you know? [align left] Tara just stares at me for a moment. It doesn't show well on pics so you might not know that, but her eyes are unnaturally yellow – and I don't mean the whites, I mean the *irises*. Vivid red reverse eyeliner really pops against her brown skin but it's also so sharp and... *hostile*, like... I don't know, war paint of sorts. Now combine all of that with the fact that she doesn't blink and you can imagine why she's giving me goosebumps. [align center] ~~TARA~~ I don't sleep well. [align left] That's all she says. I grip the envelope and the Lyrebird pass a little tighter because my hands start to shake and I don't want to accidentally drop anything. Since Tara stays silent, I just assume that she was awake and saw me coming back to White Crow – we both live there, after all. [align center] ~~TARA~~ You're going to see her? ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly? When I find her, I guess. Do you- ~~TARA~~ Not Holly. Clare. [align left] She points towards the pass in my hand. I try to think of a reason why she would even ask anything like that and then it hits me. If she was awake to see me come back, she probably saw me with Clare. She saw Clare's arm around my waist and how we went into my room together, and... and she probably got a really, *really* bad idea of what happened. I must be as red as her eyeliner right now. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay, listen, you got it all wrong- ~~TARA~~ Don't let the sweetness deceive you. All you know about her is a lie. She's a hunter. [align left] A... what? I look at her to try and see any sign of her messing with me; maybe some muscle twitch as she tries to not smile or whatever, but no. She's perfectly still. Unblinking. Her black, wavy hair that's touching her shoulders should move at least a little bit if she's breathing and it just... doesn't. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ What does that even mean? ~~TARA~~ Do you remember Reed Verbrannt? [align left] I only have really vague memories of them. They were one of those rare scholarship students that disappeared after the first two months or so – no walk of shame, so I guess they just went void. From what I've heard, it's not that uncommon: there's always a gap between them and, well, everyone else, socially and financially. Add the academic pressure and the fact that people practically expect them to disappear... yeah, no wonder someone wouldn't want to be here. I know I should just go on my way because I have things to do but let's be real, it's a bizarre situation. Tara's speaking, for starters, that's already an event, and now there's a whole additional *mystery of Reed Verbrannt* bullshit happening. Maybe if Tara tells me more about it, I'll be able to talk about it with Holly once I find her. Bet she'd appreciate sharing what she knows. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ What about- ~~???~~ There you are! [align left] Tara turns her head towards the voice right as the sentence begins; I need a bit more time to process but as soon as I have that person in the field of my vision, everything makes sense. There's only one person in Passerine Hills that's this tall and this... gorgeous, honestly. Kaja. Yes, *that* Kaja, supermodel Kaja Dvorak-Bednarczyk. Is she as beautiful in real life as she is on the covers? No, she looks somehow even better, even in the dullest oversized hoodies and baggy pants with an unimaginable amount of pockets that she apparently loves to wear when she doesn't have cameras in her face. Even with no makeup and short red hair that seems particularly messy today, she's effortlessly stunning. You need to forgive me for being all gay on main; she was one of my biggest celebrity crushes for a bit, which makes the fact that we're in the same place now, on a roughly equal level, really fucking awkward. I'm kind of grateful that she doesn't seem to see me, mostly because whenever she does see me, she looks at me like my very presence is offending her somehow, which is fun, since I literally didn't do anything to her, but okay, I guess. She just goes straight to Tara and immediately starts signing something to her with broad gestures. Holly always said Kaja and Tara are... soulmates. They have this whole secret sign language that only they know – that's how Tara gets away with never saying anything out loud, Kaja interprets everything and kind of serves as her voice. They appear at every event together. They even have the same room – not even people in Sparrow share rooms when they're there, mind you, it's not a necessity. Sure, they never confirmed that they're a couple or anything, but it's so obvious that you'd have to be the most oblivious person on the planet to not see that. Kaja turns to me after Tara replies to her with a series of sharp gestures that don't look all that nice. Her blue eyes are weirdly grayish and dark when she looks at me – not like I offend her by existing this time, more like she's watching a struggling stray animal. [align center] ~~KAJA~~ God, you look like shit. Infirmary is close if you're sick. [align left] I'm not sure if she's mocking me or not and I don't really want to think about it too much anyway. It's hard enough to not think about how cute that Slavic accent is, so my intellectual resources are kinda stretched thin at the moment. Some thoughts just never go away, I guess. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah, thanks. [align left] For just a split second, Kaja seems surprised. Guess she expected a different answer, something sassier and snappier maybe, but I really don't want to go there now. Then, after the shock apparently wears out, the world's tiniest smile appears on her freckled face. Before I have any time to process, she signs something to Tara and they both walk away as if nothing happened. Alright then. I go on my way too. I only remember that Tara didn't finish what she was meant to tell me when I'm already right [[under Lyrebird.|Lyrebird]]

config.header.left: "7 - Lyrebird" config.header.right: "October 19" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" _honorific: random.d6 -- ### Kinda too late to turn back now, right? I squeeze the pass in my hand so hard that the plastic bites pretty deeply into my hand. There's just something wildly intimidating about Lyrebird. It doesn't look a lot different from all the other buildings there with its white walls, arched windows, and columns at the entrance, but has this aura of exclusivity that makes me feel like I'm going to get kicked out and yelled at for just stepping inside because I'm not good enough. It's ridiculous, of course, that someone who walked literal red carpets would be afraid of going inside a building like this but fear isn't always rational. A guard in the white uniform materializes out of nowhere so I show them my pass. They nod in approval and open the door for me. I don't even have time to look around the lobby – white, black, and gold all around, Passerine Hills' trademark colors – before the guy at the front desk notices me. [align center] ~~THE GUY AT THE DESK~~ Good morning! I don't think I've seen you here before, Miss...? [align left] I've never seen him before either so I assume he's assigned to Lyrebird specifically. Slick back blond hair, cleanly shaven, weirdly friendly smile on his face. The staff's smiles are rare and usually fake but there's something authentic about this one. Maybe it's because he doesn't look much older than most students here and he hasn't gotten to the bitter stage of life yet. Also, not that I'm complaining, but how the fuck doesn't he know who I am? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...Ragnell. [align left] I look at the nametag – black and gold – pinned to his gray vest. *Mark Bracken*. Okay, cool. [align center] ~~APPARENTLY MARK~~ Miss Ragnell, right. Your pass, please. [align left] I give it to him. His brows furrow as he examines the card; the sudden thought that the pass is fake and I'm going to get in trouble for that crosses my mind. Emmeline wouldn't do this... would she? What if she did, though? What if she asked someone to get her a fake pass and- okay, that's too far-fetched, I need to chill. Mark opens the drawer in his desk, puts the pass there, and takes out a six-sided die. He rolls it, examines the result, and looks back at me. [align center] ~~MARK~~ [if _honorific === 1] [align center] Visiting Mixter Terrell? [if _honorific === 2] [align center] Visiting Miss Terrell? [if _honorific === 3] [align center] Visiting Mister Terrell? [if _honorific === 4] [align center] Visiting Mixter Terrell? [if _honorific === 5] [align center] Visiting Miss Terrell? [if _honorific === 6] [align center] Visiting Mister Terrell? [align left] I don't even want to ask how he knew that. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Yes. ~~MARK~~ Floor -1. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...floor -1? ~~MARK~~ `(clearly amused)` The basement, if this is the terminology you prefer, Miss Ragnell. Down the stairs to the right, it's very hard to miss. [align left] I'm not even surprised. If there's one person that'd completely unironically live in the basement, it's probably Izzy Terrell. Everyone knows that they spent years in Passerine Hills already, even though they're roughly my age, due to some agreement that their family has with the school, and the lack of contact with the outside really shows. Their accent is a mess that can't be assigned to any place, they seem like they'd disintegrate if you'd ask them to take a step outside, and as we all know, they're... I don't want to say *weird* but I don't think I have a better word. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...thank you. [align left] And to the basement I go. Not the way I imagined my first visit to Lyrebird but to be fair, I didn't really imagine that a lot and the whole chain of events that had to happen in order for me to come here was also beyond anything I could ever think about. The warm lighting of the Lyrebird lobby contrasts so much with the cool white light that I can see at the end of the marble stairs. The deep black carpet completely muffles any sound my steps might make and it's all so eerily quiet, like nobody was meant to come here. I swear to God, I can hear my own heartbeat when I finally step into the corridor, that cold, liminal space with sparse doors with no handles or knobs. Fucking backrooms energy. But one door is painted vivid turquoise. There's no plaque or number on it but I know it has to be Izzy's, since it's pretty unique. I knock, making sure that I have the envelope ready – it's a little bent but I guess they'll have to deal with it. For a short while, absolutely nothing happens. I'm about to knock again when I hear a bunch of metallic noises from inside the room and then, the door opens. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(clearly tired)` Hey, uh... didn't expect you. Anything you need? [align left] I don't think I've ever seen them during the day – I only ever meet them in the Terrell Hall on Friday nights, when we're both completely drenched in the party lights. Now I get a full view of their messy electric blue hair, dark eyes – though they're known for wearing colored contacts, so it might not be their natural eye color – and horribly, *horribly* pale skin, like they never saw the sun in their entire life. Considering that they live in a literal basement, that could be the case. Honestly, they're really brave because I swear to God that I would never in my wildest dreams be able to open the door wearing nothing but boxers and an oversized t-shirt that says *"I used the litter box in the gender neutral bathroom at the Dorian Electra concert"* like they did. This might be because I'd never wear any of this but if I hypothetically owned this kind of an outfit, I'd probably keep it to myself. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Just saying that I'm out of coke, so like, no bumping that until I get more, sorry. ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah, not here for that. [align left] Izzy can get you practically anything you want. Holly told me that they're dealing just for fun – that they don't really take any payments because money is an abstract concept for them and that all they want is for people to, quote, *"not take fuck-knows-what, if they need to take it"*. They can just do anything they want because they're a Terrell, their parents are on the Board, and the Terrell family has been deeply involved with Passerine Hills – financially and otherwise – ever since this place's beginnings, hence the *Terrell* Hall. Izzy could be assembling a nuclear bomb in this basement and they'd meet exactly zero consequences. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Waaait, no. You needed a pass to come here, you had to put in some effort... is it time-sensitive? Like, plan B or- ~~TIFFANY~~ No, Emmeline- [align left] Izzy covers their mouth and makes a high pitched noise that I only ever heard in corrupted audio while editing my earliest content. This shouldn't be a sound that a human can make, and yet. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ *Emmeline* needs it? Oh shit, did she- ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh my God, no! [align left] I shove the envelope into their hands. They frown, sniffle, then open it. After a short while of studying the contents, they whine in disappointment. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ She really sent you with this? Like, she sent me an email already... ~~TIFFANY~~ She told me, yeah. [align left] They yawn and stretch their arms up; guess I wasn't the only one who had a rough night. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Sorry, she's weird like that... love her to death, but she's really touchy about paperwork. Wanna, uh, come in? Hang out? See my new army, maybe? Painted a new batch yesterday... ~~TIFFANY~~ I'll pass. Listen, about the party- [align left] Izzy sniffles again, then somewhat absentmindedly wipes their nose with the back of their hand. Blood. There's blood on the back of their hand and blood in their nostril. Fortunately, I'm not one of those people who overreact at the sight. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh my God. *Oh my fucking God, you're* ***bleeding***! [align left] Just kidding! I can't fucking take it at all. I need to put my hand on the wall to keep myself steady because my knees get really weak all of a sudden. Izzy takes a good look at their hands – both the clean one they're holding the envelope with and the bloodstained one – and sighs. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(even more tired than before)` Not again... sorry, let me... [align left] They take a step back and take a tissue out of nowhere, then just shove it up their nose. It's like that didn't even faze them in the slightest. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ So, uh... what did you want? About yesterday? ~~TIFFANY~~ Are you sure you- ~~IZZY~~ `(ignoring me completely)` Something about the party, right? ~~TIFFANY~~ It's... it's about Holly- ~~IZZY~~ Oh, right! I have that phone I promised her, can you quickly go to Clare's and tell her to come get it? Sorry for, like, bossing you around after that stupid thing Emme made you do, but- ~~TIFFANY~~ Wait, no, pause. What do you mean go to *Clare's*? [align left] Izzy looks at me like I just told them a joke that didn't quite land. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ To... Clare's room? ~~TIFFANY~~ I got that part, just- she's here? At Clare's? [align left] They lean against the doorframe and nod; the look on their face shifts to one of concern, which is incredible, considering they're the one with the tissue shoved up their bleeding nose. I can see that they're mildly shaking, so I probably shouldn't take too much of their time. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ I, uh... listen, Mark- the guy behind the desk... he's gonna... he's gonna try and get you to leave when you go back up. Tell him I sent you, alright? That I... that I want you to go to Clare, okay? [align left] They give me a weak smile as they step back into their room. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You're gonna be fine, right? You don't need me to- I don't know, get someone? ~~IZZY~~ Nah. Go get your bestie. [align left] I don't even get a moment to answer because they close the door in my face. There's no time to process. That corridor seems weirdly hostile now, like it's going to collapse on me, so I keep my hand on the wall as I make my way out. Not even a bit of this anxiety is warranted but try to convince your wildly beating heart that you're not in mortal danger after seeing someone bleed. I almost trip on the stairs; my legs feel like jelly but I really can't stall any longer. Holly is here. Holly's at Clare's, for whatever fucking reason. Finally, after a bunch of running around, after all this worrying, I'll get to see her, talk to her, find out what went on. [align center] ~~MARK~~ Miss Ragnell! I hope you had a- ~~TIFFANY~~ Where's Clare Dumont's room? ~~MARK~~ First of all, your pass only allowed you for one visit. Second, Miss Dumont already- ~~TIFFANY~~ [if _honorific === 1] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Mixter Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [if _honorific === 2] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Miss Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [if _honorific === 3] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Mister Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [if _honorific === 4] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Mixter Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [if _honorific === 5] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Miss Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [if _honorific === 6] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Mister Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [align left] Listen. I'm not a big fan of yelling at people in general and screaming at people who are just trying to do their job is absolutely disgusting behavior. But for fucks sake, I'm tired, I'm so tired. There's been enough obstacles and delays already; one more was just the straw to break the camel's back. Mark doesn't even flinch. His smile disappears for a brief second but it appears again just as fast. [align center] ~~MARK~~ Ah, Miss Ragnell, you should've said so earlier! Down this hallway. All rooms are- [align left] I just bolt. It's like I'm possessed by something. I'm not thinking, I'm just running, and I don't care about who might see me or what they might say. It'll be over soon. I'll get Holly, we'll talk it out, and everything will go back to normal. Everything will finally be back to normal. I almost slam into the wall at the end of the corridor. It's all a blur but I still make out the *C. Dumont* engraved on the golden plaque on one of the doors. My hands are shaking as I knock and I'm just generally a mess, emotionally and physically. I'm here, no real breakfast, no coffee, no makeup on, wearing a completely random outfit, shaking, and panting like crazy. When Clare opens and the smell of pancakes hits me, I almost start to cry. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Oh! Tiffany, I- why didn't you call, I would- how are you- ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly. Holly is here, right? [align left] The spark in Clare's eyes goes out. She steps outside and closes the door behind her, then takes a deep breath before she looks at me again with a serious expression on her face. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ She's here. But I think there are some things you need to know first. [align left] I think my soul leaves my body at this moment. It's like I'm floating just an inch or two from where I'm supposed to be. Is there something wrong? Why is she here in the first place? Did something happen to her? Did someone hurt her, in the end? Or did she hurt someone and had to hide somewhere? What the fuck happened? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(quietly)` I went to the infirmary in the morning to get some of my records straight and... and she was there. She wasn't in very good shape, I think... she might've had a mental breakdown of some kind. She says she doesn't remember a lot, and... [align left] She takes another deep breath. This reminds me that I should probably breathe too. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I had to take care of some minor wounds- I know what you're thinking, but they're definitely self-inflicted and they should heal up very soon, so, please don't worry about that. Mentally, she's not... she might be unstable. I invited her for breakfast so she can calm down a little and I know you want answers but... you need to give her some time. Alright? [align left] I'm not even sure what to say to that. At least I know where Holly is now and I have a vague idea about what might've happened but... breakdown? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Ah! I'm sorry, I- You clearly want to see her and I'm rambling, I- did you eat anything at all? You look so pale, and... my, you're *trembling*! Please, come in! [align left] She opens the door again and takes a step back, looking at me like she's scared I'll run away. I hesitate. *All you know about her is a lie.* *She's a hunter.* I don't see a hunter. I see someone who wants to help me. I see someone who took care of my friend. I see someone who's so visibly worried that it practically breaks my heart. What Tara said makes no sense whatsoever. Maybe she lost something in translation or misunderstood what the word meant. Yes. Must've been it. And yet, I don't feel at ease as I walk right into [[Clare's room|JABAFVOutro]].

config.header.left: "Outro" config.header.right: " " config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- *[This feels like a good place to stop reading. There are more pages but it's getting late and you still have to find the thing you were looking for in the first place. You take the notebook with you, just in case, and so it ends.]* *[For now.]*