The Moirai Collections

(Your move was to respond to him).

Leora: ..You’re that donut I ate.?? But how? What- yeah I recognize you but I’m just wah- how are you here??

???: Hahaha! Well long story short, you devoured me alive and now I’m back! Surpiiiiiise!

A moment of silence brushes between the confusion of you two. It realizes how odd this situation is for you and puts together a bit more composure.

Abel: Oh Ahem-I should introduce myself… I am Abel! And I have something to tell you before you wake up!

(Your move was to step just a little closer to him while keeping eye contact).

You swipe off some of the liquid that was dropped onto your face as you start to swerve towards it and look just a bit closer, finding that he isn’t as intimidating from distance. His clothes make him look a bit taller but he's a bit shorter than you.

That's. What. He's. It's. Huh... ???: Sooooo why the long face? Well lack of face, HAHA!

(Your move was to back away from the oddball staring daggers into your very soul).

???: Woah pal! What’s the rush, I just asked you a question!

The world brimming with Halloween Jazz is stricken with swirling rushes of color that wrap around every corner and crevice. If it weren’t for the dark colors that the creature wore, you likely wouldn’t be able to see it through all the jumbling messes of eye strain around you.

the creature simply dusts itself off and and clears his throat and mumbles to himself. He has a Boston accent that contrasts the fancy garments he wears that you can make out from the lack of light.

???: God! Gimme a moment over here, I’m looking for something..

(Your move was to sit up and open your eyes).

You try to sit up but find that you bump into something squishy?

Opening your eyes you come to find..

???: Remember me?

[TW// Epilepsy, Bright Colors, Photosensitivity] (Your move was to pick the Halloween Jazz Hits Vol. 1 Album for tonight).

Fatigued, the red of the Halloween Jazz Hits Vol. 1 Album takes your eye.

Perfect.

You’ve heard this one a couple times before but it’s usually seasonable, maybe a bit of smooth music about ghouls and ghosts dancing around to scare innocent civilians and eat children would calm you down.

The disc player starts as the first song “Mr. No Eyes” starts to spin. Lulling you into sleep.

You feel lighter. Different. Something is not right, is it?

(Your move was to put your jammas on and go to sleep).

You put on a spare white tee and some comfy shorts and set your hair clip aside. It’s been a long day but you’re not excepted for tomorrow either. Tomorrow, is a day of uncertainty. Visiting your grouchy mom. Scary.

You try and get some shut eye, your mom would’ve been a bit pissy if she realized you were regularly staying up this late but what’s she gonna do? Scream at you? She’s old and can barely see 2 feet in front of her anyways.

Drat!

You can’t fall asleep at the moment. You’re one of those people who always need music to fall asleep to, dead silence is a bit of a deal breaker for sleep but you’re so tired that you’re only able to examine 4 albums on shelf to play on the little disc player next to you.

4 albums. The Heart Stops Beating For Drugs, Not Love by Johnny Thrash and The Crash Gang. Halloween Jazz Hits VOL. 1. The Boys From Canada by The Boys From Canada. And Album 1 by Awesome Tingle Kids (plz return).

(Your move was to use ye olde finger)

You say another sorry to Mr. Cleany. No more will he squeeze as his last breath is taken onto your fingers. You rub your minted finger against your teeth barbarically, the suds of minty clean justice running down your face like a bull contracted mad cow.

After heaving the XTRA CLEAN into your garbage Valhalla for Mr. Cleany. You simmer down from erratic brushing and lob yourself over into the shower for a good couple minutes.

(Your move was to brush your teeth and take a shower too)

You realize that you don’t smell far off from some kinda diseased animal. One of the last things you wanna smell FAR away from. You enter your bathroom, only a little smaller than your room but you’ve learned from before how to perform the perfect technique to avoid getting your head clobbered. Opening up the drawer, you grab your…toothpaste..

Honestly, this is just sad.

Awaiting you from the drawer is a horribly crumpled “XTRA CLEAN (Lean Mean Lavender flavor)” toothpaste, you’ve squeezed this one from hell and back and now the silly tooth mascot looks like it’s been hit by a car and dragged across the street. Poor, poor Mr. Cleany.

You have two tooth brushes to chose from. The RED one and The YELLOW one that has a cartoon creature on it. Can’t touch the blue one. That’s your roomie’s toothbrush…unless you wanted to, you sly bastard you.

A tired schmuckus who just got back from work at the Janustown Provenience Police Department. You’re coming back to your apartment, it’s very small which isn’t the best conditions considering you’re a pretty big person. Last time you checked with the doctor, the height examination couldn’t determine if you were 5’11 or 6’0 so now you’re stuck in eternity of either being 5’11.5 or something along those lines.

The last couple of calls you had to take were for more of those crazy car crashing kids who think it’s super reasonable to crash their cars at midnight. Like, it would’ve at least been more kindly to you and your force if those kids were crashing at noon or something so you wouldn’t need to absorb coffee into your system like a dying mosquito.

You nearly bang your head on the doorframe. As per usual of being the 3rd tallest person in the county but the doorframe isn’t worthy of your rage. It’s that stupid coat hanger that always falls down every time you put it up again.

Stupid coat hanger.

It’s 1:10 am. You don’t want to late for tomorrow, you REALLY don’t want to be late for tomorrow.

End of Moirai Collection 1, Lifeline, Part 1

Hello?

Dead air raised from radio silence for the longest moment until something truly spectacular carved it open like golden veal.

Blythe: Iltima, are you there?

Leora: Yes, I'm here. Is the Lemontine girl safe? Over.

What followed this exchange was confirmations. The best kinds but it's not flawless of course.

Did Cleo Lemontine make it out alive? Yes. Did Cleo Lemontine make it out unharmed? She maintained quite a bit of bruising and large cut on her left Achilles tendon from the attack.

Was the house stolen from? No, not at all. Was the house vandalized to some degree? The house is cleaned to an unnatural amount of neatness as if a squadron of professional maids rampaged through the building. The intruder did leave more of those cryptic sticky notes throughout the home and one large yellow page. Looks like the force have their work cut out for them when it's time to examine the evidence.

Did they catch The Yellow Page Killer? No, not this time. Still nowhere to be found.

Finishing up your last few hours of the shift, you head home. It's 1:06 am and you've reached your car. That's enough work time for today. The only thing after this you have to worry about is tomorrow's plans.

We are deeply sorry for the delay.

(Your move was to give him one last hint)

You groan a frustrated and short cuss as you look around the room for a minute to check the clock. 11:35 PM. It should be what.. 9 minutes for dispatch to come? Maybe less after that urging. It feels like a drag to be under his game so you may as well shift it back to yours.

Leora: You still didn't finish my riddle. I have a hint you can use. Solve it and keep your filthy hands away from that girl or I may damn well find you myself.

The caller sounds distinctly farther than before. The larger space would be preferrable.

YPK: Strong words. I'll hold you to it after this, Officer. Now what's your hint.

Leora: What creates like a god, rules, and restrains a man, you must always flee from in time. The god-ruler-restrainer weeps to either grief or pride that you must be whisked away. There's always time to leave.

5 minutes pass. Is he still thinking or did he leave?

Did you win?

(Your move was to respond to the joke)

Leora: Table over who?

…

Silence ensues. The breathing stops.

A clattering is heard.

…

A small shriek ripples through the air.

…

Leora: Table over who..? Hello?

(Your move was to humor him)

Leora: Okay.. what’s your joke?

The intruder seems to go back to chuckling, this “joke” must be so so funny he can hardly contain himself.

YPK: Knock Knock.

Leora: Who’s there?

YPK: Table over.

(Your move was to ask him about what he said)

Leora: Would you mind elaborating?

The caller breathing turns to low chuckling, he seems amused by your confusion.

YPK: Oh, I was making a joke, you see-. You know what- nevermind, it’s not important. Changing the topic, what was your hint again?

Leora: I’m sorry, what was the joke? I’d rather withhold that hint until you make sense of well- that.

The caller’s chuckle turns into a disappointed grumble, you can faintly make out him cussing from your insistence.

YPK: Let me try again. The joke, of course, not the riddle. I just ain’t good with riddles.