This room seems to be a part of ☆ZRAEL's dorm, based on the open ceiling showing a moonlit sky. However, the wallpaper and style of furnishing seems a little different - they're fancy, certainly, but less the unit's formal faux-victorian style and more worn and decadent. Familiar, perhaps, if you have visited a certain house in a certain game.
There's a large canopy bed with torn sheets and moth-eaten curtains, with something peeking out from beneath the blanket. Strangely, there's also a kotatsu that looks somewhat out of place with the decor, a note lying atop it.
Close to what looks like the door to an old-fashioned elevator, a bloodstained knife has been left on the ground.
As soon as you touch the knife, a memory that isn't yours flashes through your mind.
You were in love. Or at the very least, you thought you were. And then you were in love again, and again with another love. You thought nothing of it until the first girl you left at altar killed herself, and left you a letter, spilling her hatred out of with ink on paper like she did blood from her wrists.
You keep the letter on you, now. You were never in love, you never could have been, comparing yourself to her words. Her descriptions of her happiness, her descriptions of her hopes and hatred— all of it was foreign, all of it beyond you. And so, you read it over and over again, her words like an incantation, ensorcelling you.
You are only human. Who are you to not be moved by such a heartfelt plea? The gap in your heart aches, and you recognize your love was only hedonism and dalliances. How could you compare yourself to this mountain of hurt, this mountain of heartfelt poison? How could you deny her hopes? You're helpless to her wishes, weak at the knees and heady at the thought of the murder she can't commit herself, even if you don't understand it.
So you'll make her pain yours. You weren't true, but you can fix your mistakes. You'll love the right way this time, a kiss at the altar, and follow the words true: til death do us part. You won't leave another girl. You'll stay true until you bring her the end she looked for, an end writ in blood and fate sealed as you promised on your wedding night.
The next girl, though, she takes a knife to your throat the second she sees the gun, screaming bloody murder. Was this the one for you? You can't tell now. You wish you knew.
[ well, that sure is a fun memory, can't relate. ]
. . . That's weird.
[ but that just makes her glance around the room again. she's keeping this knife with her, even if she doesn't think it's the right weapon to use here, but just in case.
but that memory mentioned a letter, didn't it?
let's take a look at the kotatsu, and the note on top of it. what do we got here? ]
The note does not seem to be the letter mentioned in the memory. For one, it's far too short to be called a letter - the only thing written on it is a single question.
Is it fine to define yourself by your love for someone?
[ . . . . . . There's a lot about this room, huh. . .
He's unsure what to address first. The knife-- the kotatsu and note (which feels much more inviting than the rest of the room) the bed and everything else. . .
In the end, he approaches the kotatsu first and reaches for the note. ]
doesn't - quite make a beeline for the kotatsu, in the sense that there is decidedly a good while she spends just kind of silently freaking out, but once she's managed to get her breathing under control she heads straight there, attention locked on the note.
Secret Room
There's a large canopy bed with torn sheets and moth-eaten curtains, with something peeking out from beneath the blanket. Strangely, there's also a kotatsu that looks somewhat out of place with the decor, a note lying atop it.
Close to what looks like the door to an old-fashioned elevator, a bloodstained knife has been left on the ground.
no subject
no subject
You were in love. Or at the very least, you thought you were. And then you were in love again, and again with another love. You thought nothing of it until the first girl you left at altar killed herself, and left you a letter, spilling her hatred out of with ink on paper like she did blood from her wrists.
You keep the letter on you, now. You were never in love, you never could have been, comparing yourself to her words. Her descriptions of her happiness, her descriptions of her hopes and hatred— all of it was foreign, all of it beyond you. And so, you read it over and over again, her words like an incantation, ensorcelling you.
You are only human. Who are you to not be moved by such a heartfelt plea? The gap in your heart aches, and you recognize your love was only hedonism and dalliances. How could you compare yourself to this mountain of hurt, this mountain of heartfelt poison? How could you deny her hopes? You're helpless to her wishes, weak at the knees and heady at the thought of the murder she can't commit herself, even if you don't understand it.
So you'll make her pain yours. You weren't true, but you can fix your mistakes. You'll love the right way this time, a kiss at the altar, and follow the words true: til death do us part. You won't leave another girl. You'll stay true until you bring her the end she looked for, an end writ in blood and fate sealed as you promised on your wedding night.
The next girl, though, she takes a knife to your throat the second she sees the gun, screaming bloody murder. Was this the one for you? You can't tell now. You wish you knew.
no subject
. . . That's weird.
[ but that just makes her glance around the room again. she's keeping this knife with her, even if she doesn't think it's the right weapon to use here, but just in case.
but that memory mentioned a letter, didn't it?
let's take a look at the kotatsu, and the note on top of it. what do we got here? ]
no subject
Is it fine to define yourself by your love for someone?
no subject
[ STILL CAN'T RELATE!!!! ]
Is it okay if I answer out loud?
[ are there writing utensils. can she write her answer on the note. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Re: Secret Room
He's unsure what to address first. The knife-- the kotatsu and note (which feels much more inviting than the rest of the room) the bed and everything else. . .
In the end, he approaches the kotatsu first and reaches for the note. ]
Re: Secret Room
Does my love do more harm or good?
Re: Secret Room
[ Glancing around for something to write with...! ]
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
He glances toward the bed. Wait, something is sticking out. Maybe he should... double-check that he's not alone? ]
Hello...?
[ Pulling the blankets back ]
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
,
,,,
,,,
deep breaths
stepping to whatever's closest - either the knife or the kotatsu or the bed, whatever he can get his hands on first ]
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
deep breaths.
pulling the blankets up to see what it is ]
Re: Secret Room
[ He's still in the room ]
Re: Secret Room
. . . I'm alright. It's just a little . . .
[ . . . ]
Familiar, here . . .
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
You also notice something else tucked beneath a pillow.
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
sees the knife
doesn't - quite make a beeline for the kotatsu, in the sense that there is decidedly a good while she spends just kind of silently freaking out, but once she's managed to get her breathing under control she heads straight there, attention locked on the note.
you know, rather than the... anything else. ]
Re: Secret Room
Is my love enough?
Re: Secret Room
[ there's a bit she spends just sitting with the note, quiet, but the longer she stays here the longer her anxiety ramps back up so she's gotta
after she answers she's looking for the door. ]
Re: Secret Room
It does not seem to lead back into Doodle's room anymore. You can't see what's on the other side.
Passing through, you are taken somewhere different.
Re: Secret Room
Does this lead to Angels, I wonder...
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
1/2
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room
Re: Secret Room