💜💀Patchy 💀💜

PAST ENTRIES

If the father is a miner So shall the son

-

He had jolted awake, breathless, trying to regain his breath.

"Another nightmare" he thought

Nightmares were normal to him at this point but they weren't that often; he would always take a bottle before bed to help his insomnia, numbing out the nightmares as well but it seemed as of recently he needed more than one bottle as of late

It was already late for demi to be still open so him getting something drink to go sleep again wasn't an option; he had no option but to try and go back to sleep

.

Just as expected, he was restless the next morning, barely getting any sleep and having a headache; those seemed more usual as of late too.

It was only midday, and he was already feeling tired, his body aching and limbs falling asleep at times; he had already failed at two of his morning games and was getting his teammates' scoldings for his failures. He couldn't help himself.

If there was somewhere he could take his time to relax, it was the greenhouse

It was silent; barely anyone came to the greenhouse besides Mrs. Plinius and Mrs. Woods, the latter being the one he expected to see that day. Getting to meet her seemed to be something he looked forward to, being that she could always slip that facade of hers in front of him and he could do the same, the two of them being able to speak their minds freely without anyone judging them. Just as he expected, she entered the greenhouse, finding him seated by one of its benches.

"Norton!" By her tone he could tell she wasn't expecting him. "What brought you here?"

"Not much, really," leaning back into the bench, "just trying to find some peace."

"Is it about last game?" Oh, word got around quickly; perfect.

"What about it? Everyone makes mistakes."

"Yeah," sitting on the other side of the bench beside him, "the mistake was propelling Tracy's doll into the gate instead of her."

His response had been a dry sigh. "it was just one mistake, alright?" she could sense he was upset by his tone but at the same time she could smell something in his breath, a smell too familiar to her…

"Were you drinking before?" Now she was the one being upset. "I thought you knew better."

placing a hand by his forehead, "I wasn't." He should've brushed before if he had known the smell from it would've stayed with him that long. "I just had a few glasses before bed last night; that's all."

Just seeing her face, he knew she was not believing that, and yet she didn't question him after that, just asking him to "not overdo it." He promised he wouldn't.

Poverty is the worst curse

-

He found himself again in the same place, fuse in his left hand ready to be ignited by the lamp in his right hand; he could hear those faint voices would get louder and louder.

"bootlicker," "arrogant," "hypocrite," "greedy"

He wasn't any of those things, was he? He's just trying to survive; he never asked to be the son of a miner, and he never wished to be one. It was something he was forced upon at his birth, but it is up to him to decide how it will end; he isn't going to die like his father. He wasn't going to waste the last of his breath living in poverty. 

He was going to survive.

Bringing the lamp close to the fuse and igniting it, the pain was the same when it happened; the stinging pain from his burning flesh seemed so familiar, as if it were a hug from a past loved one. He was embracing it, but as it progressed, he started to feel as if his body were starting to crumble away.

He felt as if his limbs were being torn apart alongside his torso; he should've felt the pain and let out a cry from the pain he should've been feeling, and yet the only thing he could think was how easy it was to breathe now.

But sometimes

-

He had woken up feeling lighter in his chest; he would struggle to catch his breath in the mornings, but today seemed different. His mind felt somewhat foggy, but he didn't pay any mind to it. He looked at his surroundings, recognizing it was his room, but quickly realized the bag hanging by his bed was gone. Could it be someone had taken it? Getting up from bed, he thought of going to the dining room since it was morning; they would've already been having breakfast. He could ask if someone had it or saw if it got taken away. 

As he was coming down the stairs, he couldn't help but catch the glance of a woman in a red dress; that was weird. he didn't think there would be more participants in the game

Just as he entered through the doors, he was stopped in his tracks by what he found; there were people in the dining room indeed, but they didn't look like pale-skinned, thin-bodied people with stitched necks who looked like corpses. Who were these people? He felt he wasn't supposed to be there, quickly trying to get back to his room as he was stopped by a familiar voice

"Not feeling like joining the others, Mr. Campbell?" That voice—he recognized it as Orpheus's voice, but as he looked around to meet him, he was met with a man with a lanky figure, three slender fingers that looked more like claws in each hand, and a plague doctor's mask where his face was supposed to be. 

"Orpheus, what's the meaning of this? Who are those people? What do they look like?"

"Now, now, Mr. Campbell, it would be very rude coming from you, considering how you look." being caught off guard he looked at one of corridor mirror's, not being able to recognize himself

He was met with what was supposed to be his reflection, but at the same time he couldn't remember ever looking like this, gray skin being divided between skin and rubble where his eyes were supposed to be; one of them seemed hollowed and the other blank. The rest of his body being what had terrified him the most, detached limbs and half of his torso missing, being replaced with rubble as well. He felt sick. How was he supposed to be feeling sick if he was missing his torso? more like how was he still alive?

"I know it might be a lot to take in, Mr. Campbell, but fortunately you'll be able to get around it in no time."

There are ways

-

He might have lost track of time, but as was expected, he assimilated into his new body.

He didn't struggle breathing as he used to and felt less tired; his nightmares had completely disappeared as well. Getting able to have proper rest after a long time seemed like bliss. It could have ended up there, but since he was staying in the "manor," now he had a role to perform if he didn't want to be penalized.

Hunting "survivors" is what he was tasked to do now; in every game he was enlisted to play, he had to "eliminate" all of its players, and today was no different.

Most of them had already been eliminated except for one that was still standing, and she didn't seem to be going down without a fight. He had chased her already in every place on the map, and yet none of them seemed to be feeling tired. She seemed as if she were trying to find the dungeon by the graveyard, but unbeknownst to her, he had chased her away from it before she could notice it. She tried hiding herself between the gravestones, which was a mistake, as he threw the pickaxe towards them, making their surroundings tremble, harming her, and driving her away from her hiding place.

He got her just like he wanted her, lying defenseless and unable to escape; there was no way for her to make it out.

He could've just thrust the pickaxe through her and gotten the victory; instead, he just stayed, staring at her. He couldn't help himself when he felt this way: feeling mighty toward those he found weak. But at the same time he felt something else as he saw those eyes, teary and scared green eyes; those teary green eyes seemed so beautiful and yet familiar to him, almost feeling a knot in his chest by looking at them, but he couldn't let those feelings distract him as he raised his pickaxe and struck her body, being met with a cry of pain from her, looking back at him with those emerald eyes as tears descended through her freckled cheeks, being met only by his hollowed eyes.

The victory was his, but now he was looking forward those emerald eyes

-

 Dazzled by [your] eyes

It hasn't been that long since she had arrived at the manor with the promise of meeting "an old friend"; she had believed it, and this is what she gets, being trapped with other participants from other games like hers. Everyone had been invited to the manor as well but cannot remember how they ended up trapped in it; some don't even remember how their game went, or if they did, they preferred to keep it to themselves, just like her.

She still recalls her game, that place, the scarecrow, the fire, "her angel," and even the man that kept calling her name—no, he wasn't calling her back then, was he? She doesn't remember anymore.

People have tried to leave the manor, but they either get lost in the forest and somehow get back to the gate or are sent back by that "thing"; no one knows what it is, only that it looks like a penguin. If that wasn't the only strange thing in this place, the manor was one as well; no matter how many people there were, there were enough rooms for each of them. The halls seemed to have a life of their own, taking anyone to the room they headed to. She stopped thinking about how the manor was supposed to work, not even the greenhouse's logic that somehow made every flower she planted bloom even out of season. She stopped caring that it didn't seem they could ever leave.

-

Everyone has gotten used to it, "living" in the manor, that is.

There wasn't much to do inside the manor; they were forced to play games like they had played before, but mostly everyone had found a way to entertain themselves during their stay in it, she herself included. Besides the games she had during the week, she would spend most of her time inside the greenhouse. Not many visited it besides her, but it wasn't like people seemed wary of her after word got around about the incident with Kreacher—of course not. Besides, she still got to spend time with Dr. Emily after all

But sometimes she wished there could be someone else accompanying her.

-

Word had gone around about a new group of people joining in soon; she was always curious to see the new people that joined, how they looked, or how they were; it filled her with so many questions.

The first to arrive was "the novelist"; she didn't think they would meet again in the manor. Not only was he a new resident of the manor, but he also presented himself as an "intermediary" between the residents and the owner of the manor. After his arrival he had approached her; he still remembered her as well and thankfully didn't bring up the past. he had asked for a small favor to pass along any notice he received from the manor's owner; she accepted it without an issue

"So I only need to announce them once a week?"

"preferably at the beginning of it, if it's not much of an issue."

"Not at all!" she had answered quite enthusiastically. "It would be nice to have something else to do during the week..."

Her silence afterwards was something he had noticed quickly. "Is there something else you want to ask?"

"There are more people joining in soon, aren't there? When will they be arriving?"

"They should be arriving soon," he answered cheerfully. "I'm counting on you, and the other residents will give them a warm welcome."

He took his leave afterwards, leaving her with only the announcements for the following week alongside a paper containing the names of the new residents arriving

"Alice DeRoss, Journalist"

"Frederick Kreiburg, Composer"

"Melly Plinius, Entomologist"

"Norton Campbell, Prospector"

-

Just as the novelist had mentioned, the new residents had made their arrival shortly afterwards; as always, there was a fuss over the newcomers. Many had hoarded the attention from the newcomers, surely giving them a warm welcome into the manor.

Since there were a lot of people around, she didn't get the chance to introduce herself to any of them, but it seemed they would settle in just fine. She decided to head back to the greenhouse to spend the rest of her day not noticing she had caught someone's attention.

The newcomers had quickly settled in, a very noticeable one being the prospector who seemed to have taken the dining table as his place to spend time in. Sometimes she would catch a glimpse of him and the journalist playing some kind of board game; she had actually gotten excited when she saw the entomologist had taken the greenhouse as well as her place to be in her free time, thinking that maybe the two of them could get to know each other, but her hopes were quickly shot down when he barely acknowledged her during the entomologist's stay and just like everyone else kept to herself.

-

It didn't seem like she would be able to get along with someone in this place.

-

It was her first game with one of the newcomers, the prospector, wasn't it? She doesn't know well what he is capable of, but from what she has heard, many aren't fond of him already, mostly saying that he cost them their game by attracting the hunter, whatever they meant.

They were already half through the game and had managed to finish most of the ciphers but Mr. Riley had been captured by the hunter and was soon to be chaired

"WOODS!" the lawyer was trying his best to struggle out as he shouted at her. "WHAT PART OF 'GET OUT OF HERE' DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Please, if you let me help—"

She tried pleading but was quickly cut off by "Just focus on decoding!" You'll just get down while you try to break the chair. But she didn't listen; she tried her best to break the chair the hunter was heading to as quickly as possible until she noticed that the hunter was drawing closer, making her get nervous and clumsy as she broke the chair, and before she could notice, they were already behind her. Just as she prepared herself to get hit, she heard someone else's voice, "STAY PUT, I'M GOING IN!" the next thing she knew was the hunter had been propelled away from her, giving her not only enough time for her to finish breaking the chair but also giving Riley the struggle to get out the hunter's grip

"Focus on decoding; I'll be going to support. Understood?"

"y-yeah!"

It had been the prospector who had come to help, so was that what they meant by "attracting the hunter"? It seemed more like he pulled them away. She had only seen him before briefly, but this was the first time she saw him up close. Many had described him as "ill-mannered" or "rude" at first glance, but he didn't seem like that to her. He did look a bit unfriendly, but he seemed very dedicated to the task of supporting the hunter, but what seemed to really catch her attention were his eyes. When she first saw him back at the manor, his eyes seemed to be of a green color, but now they looked like a brownish color.

She shouldn't overthink over someone's eyes and focus more on getting out of this game

-

"Victory: 3 survivors escaped, 1 eliminated."

-

The aftermath was just as expected: Riley reprimanded her for not listening to him and delaying the game by not decoding; she just took the reprimands and headed back to the greenhouse without noticing someone following after her.

She had just begun watering the flowers when she heard the sound of the greenhouse's door open. "Ah, Mrs. Plinius, are you—" she had thought at first it was the entomologist who had come to check on her beehive only to find instead the prospector. To her surprise, "Oh, the prospector!"

"Excuse me for barging in; I just wanted to know if you were alright. That 'lawyer' seemed very mad at you."

"Oh, Mr. Riley? Everyone has gotten used to his nagging; he's just mad that the hunters target him first to chase at every game," she had said calmly.

"I would be pretty mad to be the first chase," he scoffed, "but he still shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

"It's not a big deal; besides, it wasn't like I helped a lot during the match."

"Really? I thought you did good, especially with breaking those chairs."

She couldn't help but get flustered at the comment, "Thank you, mister?"

"Campbell, Norton Campbell, miss—" he stretched his hand to her

"Woods, Emma Woods." She took it to hers and shook their hands. "I hope we are able to keep working together in these games."

-

She seemed naive, and it was easy for him to make her trust him; she could be useful for him to survive these games. She seemed to be the only one that could break those damn chairs, and from what she told him, she was connected to one of those "hunters," probably the one that let her go on a previous game.

Just [a game] between the two of us

Being trapped inside a manor where you're forced to play killing games is not so entertaining; many of the residents had come up with ways to keep themselves occupied in the little free time they had between the games, the prospector being one of the few who found a way to entertain himself during their leisure time.

Always being found by the dining table, "hoarding it all by himself," according to the other residents, he didn't do much in his free time either, spending it reading books from the manor's library or playing the board game he had brought with him to the manor. Not many seemed interested in spending time with him, only a few taking time out of their day, like the mercenary and journalist and even, on rare occasions, the entomologist, if she was accompanied by the latter.

-

The prospector had already finished his games of the day, so he had time to kill in the meantime before he had to switch to the hunter's manor. 

"You're sure you want to go again?" he said while shuffling the cards of the game. "It'll be the third you lose against me today."

"So what? i was close to beating you last time," said the mercenary by the other end of the table

"Yeah, before I sent you back to the starting place," he scoffed at the mercenary's luck.

"That's only because you pulled that stupid card," shouted back the prospector. "i'm pretty sure you're shuffling the cards on your favor; give them to me." he tried to take them from the hands of the prospector but he quickly kept them from the mercenary's reach

During their tussle they hadn't notice the arrival of more people into the dining room

"What's going on in here?" Their attention was quick to go to the owner of that voice, being the doctor, accompanied by the gardener. "You two are old enough to not be fighting over something like little kids, you know."

The mercenary was the first to straighten his composure in front of the girls. "Sorry, Mrs. Dyier, it's just that Mr. Campbell here is clearly cheating."

"Cheating? Subedar here is just a sore loser because he lost to me for the third time already."

"that's because you keep cheating!" he tried to snatch the cards from his hands again but he quickly dodged him

"Enough, you two!" the doctor said once more, stopping their struggle. "Mr. Subedar, if you want so much to refute Mr. Campbell's cheating, how about I and Mrs. Woods join you for a game?"

"Really?"

"Sure," the gardener had jumped in the conversation for the first time but quickly directed her attention to the prospector. "If it's alright for us to join, Mr. Campbell."

"It's alright, but we can only play with three of us at the same time."

"It's fine then," said the doctor. "If you want, I could shuffle the cards to soothe Subedar's assumptions."

"Fine by me as long as he doesn't try cheating again."

-

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

They had just started the first round, and the mercenary was sent back to square one. "I expected it from Campbell but not you, Woods."

"Sorry," the gardener quickly apologized. "I didn't think it would land on you."

The prospector, alongside the doctor, could only chuckle at their interaction. "C'mon, Subedar, we're just starting, so don't give up so easily."

It was the first time he had had this many people over for a game; the most he had had was Mrs. Deross and Mrs. Plinius. Their company seemed enjoyable and entertaining; from the mercenary's screams of frustration at every mistake and the gardener's small laughs between turns, he sure was enjoying it. It wasn't long until the mercenary reached his boiling point after his crude ore was sent back to the start for the third time in the game and quitted out of rage, the doctor herself having to excuse herself for an upcoming match leaving him and the gardener by themselves

"You're not leaving?" He had expected her to follow after the two of them. "You got more matches later, right?"

"I do, but it's not until much later today. Besides, I was enjoying it."

"Really?" He was taken aback. "I didn't think you were invested."

"It's interesting seeing you and Mr. Subedar play it even with Mrs. Deross, so I got curious over time." It seemed reasonable; he remembers seeing her passing by the dining room to the greenhouse, so her watching them play didn't seem odd to him. He never thought she would be that kind of woman that would play such a crude game, but so was Mrs. Deross, and still she plays his game. "So should we play from the beginning again?"

The game started just like any other, just that he gave her an advantage by being the first to move forward, only rolling a 3 but still giving her a better head start than he did afterward by just moving a space, which got a chuckle from her. When it came to pulling one of the cards, he had gotten lucky with pulling out "Natural selection"; he preferred "serendipity" since it always worked to get a head start on ores for his other crude ore, but it should work for later, he thought.

The game kept going smoothly, sometimes one getting ahead of the other or one of them sending them back to the start; they were still enjoying it. She seemed to be enjoying it as well and was very optimistic about how close she was getting to reaching the track until he quickly switched their positions with one of the cards he had pulled before, leaving him at an advantage. he knew it would come in handy before; such play rewarded him a pout from the gardener

"So how did you come to know about the game?"

He was taken aback by her question, "Why would you want to know?"

"Just some small talk since someone seems to be dragging on this game." He had to admit that yeah, he was just dragging it on since it was entertaining with someone who wasn't glaring at him or calling him a cheater the whole game. "Besides, it's not like you came up with the game, right? You should've learned it from someone, right?"

"Yeah... someone."

-

The memories of back then were fuzzy; he barely remembered how things were back then before his father's condition worsened or even before she left, but he could remember one vague memory. His father and Benny were chatting at the dining table while she was in the kitchen working on something for them to work on after their shift ended. He doesn't remember anymore who brought it up first, but they were playing the board game while drinking. She had noticed him peeking from the door's archway and sent him back to bed, but it was his father that brought him over to the table to watch them play, showing him and explaining what each card did and even letting him roll the dice once. After their game had ended, they had left him the game set, promising to play once he got older—just a game between the three of them. He never got the chance to, obviously.

-

He had gotten lost in his memory, distracting himself from the game, something that she had taken for her advantage, and before he knew it, she had managed to have both of her crude ores on the track for golden cave in just a few steps to win. he had already gotten one of his ores to the golden cave but he was still behind with the other one; she just needed to roll the dice and would've won the game but just as she was to roll

"HERE YOU ARE, MISS WOODS." They had been interrupted by the lawyer who had walked into the room. "We've been waiting for you for nearly 10 minutes. If we don't get going, we'll be penalized for not having a full team!"

"Mr. Riley, i'm sorry i just got a bit distracted—" she tried apologizing, "—but i'll be done in a minute—" only to be cut off by him

"We don't have a minute; we need you to join now, understand? You can play your 'game' with this man later. Just as he came, he quickly left to go back to their team, hoping for the gardener to follow after him

To her dismay, the lawyer was right; she had to leave for the game that evening. Just as she was getting up to leave, she directed to him, "Do you think we could continue after I'm back?"

"I don't think so," he had said with a sorrowful tone. "I'll have to be leaving as well for the hunter's manor soon, and I don't think that by the time you're done with it I'll be here." such answer was met with a disappointing look that quickly light up

"Then the week after, do you think we could play again?"