BARiTONES

[idolpro]

[ You spill out of the elevator into the rookery— the elevator is gone when you look back.

From the rookery, the house is reached via the long, winding stairway leading up and out to it; the floorboards of the stairs are discolored from exposure to the weather, stained a dull greyish-brown. The rookery itself juts out from the house, a circular outcropping, and the cacophonous cawing of crows can be heard from the upper rows of rafters, built to house the birds.

But for a moment, that's not the only noise you hear. There's a ringing in your ears that forms a melody, a song unearthly and uncomfortable. The cawing of crows sounds like uncanny, sounding in rhythm, singing lyrics like and unlike human speech, something from beyond the stars and beyond human limits, but now pounding in your skull. It crawls up your brainstem and down your throat and you're almost humming— but no, now the sound escapes you as a particularly loud bird takes flight and throws off the rhythm, and now you can't hear it so clearly anymore. So long as you don't think about it, you almost can't hear it at all. Though— if you lose your sanity, or are damaged too far, the sensation will overwhelm you.

A crow in the rafters flies down and lowers its head to you, in a gesture oddly like a bow. Held in its beak is a ring, with a strangely shining inscription. If you open your hand to it, it will deposit the ring within your palm, as if entrusting it to your safe keeping.

A readout on your phone tells you the rules and displays the sanity goal (explore rooms) and your traitor goal (murder someone via mental damage) as well as the item that you've been given (a ring). It looks like nothing is stopping you from committing the traitor goal even while you're sane, if you wish to.

There is one exit: North. ]

Comments

The Mask of Taarahat's Sanity Break

[idolpro]

[ With that last blow of damage, everything snaps sharply into focus.

That corner of your mind that you weren't touching before, because it wasn't yours, not something of you is no longer held back. You can't be you right now-- you're in too much pain, too much agony. And this thing is clear. Vengeance is sharp and sure, and it tells you the story and what you need to do next:

The good news is, selling your soul was great for business. The bad news is, there might not be enough of you left to enjoy your success. The ring around your finger feels tight when you try to remove it, but otherwise it never quite feels right, like it'll slip through your grasp and you'll lose everything at any moment. Like your hand is boneless, or there's too many fingers to fit through that ring. You feel it on your other hand too, these days, on the days you can feel your hand and not just something else moving it for you, when your brain pulls the switch that says for it to clench, to knock or shake. There's something else in there with you, behind your eyes, and it won't stop singing.

The song in your head doesn't stop anymore, the uneven jazz beat and lyric-less melodic undulation ever-unending. The most you can do is take your body up to the rookery, where the sound of cawing and the uncanny near-human speech of the birds drowns it out, or at least lessens it so you can pretend the birds are all that's talking to you.

All that's talking about you. In the rooms below, they talk about how the boss has gone mad, but they're making bank off your sacrifice nonetheless. They have no idea where their prosperity comes from, content to sop up success with their wallets, while you still manage the accounts even when you can't always keep your traitor tongue and traitor body give themselves over to your passenger.

You'll allow them their laughter for now. There's something more important: you don't have a soul to sell anymore, but your passenger has gifted you a secret. You'll give up your body sooner rather than later, you promise it, but it has to make good on its deal: you won't be alone in your madness. You feel its wan satisfaction at the thought: not just one mind for a meal but many. This thing, whatever else it's done to you, has always kept its bargains. You sit in the rookery, and stare open-mouthed up at the stars, and start singing an all-too-familiar tune, until the tongue that shapes the lyrics moves on its own, and the smirk you're wearing isn't one that fits comfortably on a human face, but that's okay. It's not a human face, anymore. ]

Sanity break effects: you may continue to play your character as mostly their normal self, but in pursuit of this goal, through whatever justification you prefer.

You may also play it with the vengeful spirit's personality overlaid on your character to some degree: if you choose to play with this, your character may lose any and restraint they had, or concern about how others perceive them, figuring that once they drive others mad they'll lose all credibility. They may approach the game of betrayal with a devil-may-care attitude, in it for the fun they can get out of it until their turn in control is over, and they must give themselves over to their traitor goal and drive others to madness. Alternatively, they may become very conspicuously meticulous about keeping up a business-like persona: better they not let anyone in on what's up until the end. They may regard others as leeches, and be more likely to target those that they feel are dependent upon others, or more likely to target those that they feel are the type to spread word of what's become of them. All of these aspects are optional, and may be individually played up or toned down to whatever degree would be fun for you, so long as they ultimately motivate your character to pursue the traitor goal.

Traitors are aware of the full layout of the house, which can be found here. ]