Days pass but the break in at the Vidal Athanas goes unmentioned. By the morning after the glass is repaired and the only person that seems to know anything about it is a man with a small headache who can’t quite remember if anything happened at all or if he was just taking a nap. The nervous group that broke in besides an activist with a stolen dead body in his basement seem to have gotten away with their less than agile entrance and exit. Even a lawyer in her office hasn’t heard the ring of a phone or a request for information or cover for the events that took place. It’s almost as if it never happened at all.
Morning breaks days later and one little blonde doll is arrested in the middle of her Morning yoga routine on suspicion of the murder of a man that nobody even knew. Graciela’s biological Father may have been in the ground for long enough but a hair extracted from his clothes that wasn’t seen before has come up as a DNA match for Belva Athanas. The town is up in arms before breakfast -- could an angel like her really commit such a crime against a perfect stranger? And why?
TUESDAY 11:26AM.
It takes two hours for bail to be granted, maybe it’s because nobody quite believes it could be true. A fancy lawyer with an uncomfortable smile, the Father of a very good friend is the marker that ‘you can trust us’. Suddenly the narrative is changing, suddenly they need someone else who could plausibly have committed such a crime. They don’t need to be smart, they don’t need to be witty, it doesn’t even have to be a plot, just someone that could of been there. There’s only one other person that can be tracked to the scene of that crime, a bank transaction showing a small payment for gardening a few months earlier. An off job man with a track record of being in all the right places at the wrong times; Chandler Johnson. This time the newspaper reads...
PERFECT STRANGERS; DO YOU REALLY KNOW YOUR NEIGHBOUR?
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To be entirely honest, December was only digging for information because that’s what someone else wanted him to do. For 26 years he’d fought against the strings, refused to be his father’s puppet. He’d gone his own way, made decisions that came from his own mind and his mind only because he did not care to be controlled. He was his own story teller. And now, here he was, standing outside of Dad’s office with a bobby pin in hand, attempting to break into the room because someone slipped a letter under his door.
He could’ve asked for the key --- he knew, now, all it took was a quick skim of the will to find out Graciela and Cassia were the holders, but was there point to involve either of them? He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. Or why, for that matter. Or what had prompted someone to ask him of all people in the first place.
One final twist and click. He was inside, pulling the door closed behind him. He flipped on the switch, not bothering to turn the lock on the knob. Let him be discovered. He was doing nothing wrong. And if he was, so what? He’d spent his life doing things wrong and he was still here. If this was a setup, if this was a trap, he was walking into it eagerly. Making his way across the room, he began to search for any paper that looked like it was worth reading. He didn’t know what he’d find, but surely there would be something.
tw mature content, not for the faint of heart (as always).
JUNE 2ND, 11.45PM. THE NIGHT OF THE SHOOTING. @ THE ATHANAS HOUSE.
The night was hot and stuffy, the old door of the house ajar. It seemed that even when nobody was home, visitors were invited to come as they pleased. When their Father had been alive, most of the children would not have dared to pass through their own home the way that these strangers seemed to feel they were entitled to. There were names she did not recognise and faces she had never known constantly blurring with her memories of a house where she had grown up under the impression that she was the families curse. That had been her role.
The empty halls didn’t speak to her, as they never had before. Nobody did. The house was as empty as her fraudulent siblings and the stories they always told. Her bag was heavy but her partner in crime had not responded to a message since the start of that weekend and she understood, maybe there was good reason for that. She had planned what she would do, mulled over each detail with great excitement but nobody could ever share her plans, her dreams, her love for excitement that made her hair stand on end. She was alone. As she always had been, even though there existed a half of her that had arrived into this world at almost the very same time -- he was not cut out for this.
She unloaded her bag onto her bed, the childlike bed sheets unchanged. She had lived there so many year but not one inch of decoration had changed from the day she arrived. The bag clattered, emptying with a frightening sound onto her bed that summoned the sound of barking, “Oh, shut up, Helios,” she told the dog that had appeared. It was unusual that he would bark at her, they had their little secrets after all, the many times she had lingered around that house and he had never raised the alarm. It was only when she turned to him that she noticed hanging around his neck a piece of black thread with one beady glass eye dangling from it plastered in blood. “Here, boy,” she was not alarmed. She dropped to her knees on the creaky old floorboards and untangled the thread and examined it in the darkness of the room. She recognised it immediately; Her puppy.
She found the spot where it had once sat, on her empty shelf and her fingertips touched the empty space, teeth gritted. All at once she was overcome by rage and the glass eyeball and the thread slammed against the empty spot. It seemed like all that was stolen from her would never be enough. This was a game and she was losing. That toy had held more importance to her than anyone had understood... But now somebody knew, and they were playing with her. They knew she had shared all her secrets with that stupid fake dog. It was irreplaceable.
Grabbing a hammer from her bed, she marched out of the door and slammed it behind her, trapping Helios and his barking behind it for a number of reasons. She charged down the stairs and to the basement which had been locked for the duration of their recent stay. She swung, once, the lock clattered to the ground emptily. Perhaps she knew that was too easy but she didn’t care, she needed to know what was inside.
All at once, all her rage was washed away with confusion as the door pushed open easily to an almost empty room. Fixed to the wall were a few old photographs of the children in the first year of their lives in the house, in one corner were piled cardboard boxes filled with memorabilia, and that was all. Or at least that’s what she thought until she walked in and turned on the light... And then she realised that wasn’t all at all. Blood was splattered over Ace and Belva’s pictures, blood was splattered over the floors, blood was splattered over the old floorboards and it wasn’t neat and tidy like she imagined Dad’s blood, it wasn’t satisfying at all, it was just another mystery that she couldn’t solve.
Her shoes were dipped in blood, a sickly red coating attached to her soles and the sound of a door slamming upstairs made her drop the hammer she had been holding, a thud as it fell into the puddle of blood. She bent down to pick it up but it just covered her fingertips trying to pick it back up,
The door burst open, a door that had been locked for so long until now. This wasn’t a coincidence, the police weren’t here because they’d figured out something else was going on by themselves. She almost laughed at the irony that they probably thought they finally understood what was going on here but they’d been led to the wrong answer, because she was not the killer. She would admit it now if she was.
She raised her hands, letting out a bitter laugh, “Don’t worry, I won’t resist... Unless you want me to.”
It’s almost strange how the mood of the town changes when word of the party spreads, some want to attend because of a curly haired boy yelling about free beer at the Creek, some hear that the girl from the boutique uptown is involved, others just know it’s to celebrate the miraculous return of December Athanas. The only person who doesn’t seem to know about the party is HIM.
Swarms of guests arrive, somehow a boombox appears. There are people drinking outside, inside, in every room. Even the local press seem to have put down their cameras in the spirit of the event. A few drinks and everyone has seemingly forgotten that a murderer and a mysterious gunman are still at large. How fickle people can be.
Vidal Athanas never liked parties when he was alive; his house was sacred ground to be watched only from a distance, a place where even an invitation wasn’t enough to lure some visitors in. How much has really changed since he was found DEAD?
HOW THIS EVENT WILL WORK:
✗ RANDOM TASKS may be assigned to specific characters which seem unrelated but eventually make sense. These tasks may be completed with a designated person, by finding a designated item or being in a designated room at a certain time. If you receive one of these then it should be your priority to complete this first. When the event is complete you may publish your ask for all to see.
Event dates in real time:
✗ THURSDAY 21st - SATURDAY 23rd: THE PARTY ACROSS THE DASH
✗ SATURDAY 23RD: Discord event ( 4:30PM EST onwards )
Summer Fest is rounding up but nothing is really over in Vertmoor. Front page news is Vidal Athanas’ love child while his missing son is now third page news. Whispers are all that remain of July Athanas, almost as if he was never really there at all. Who really knew him?
The chatter that persists now is about the Vertmoor time capsule buried in the town square six years ago and it suddenly the town vote is that it should be dug up. Maybe they’re sick of all the other secrets they can’t unearth and want to focus on digging up real things. The event is scheduled, the town is alive with frenzy. The last time something got dug up it turned out to be the wrong mans corpse but that is forgotten in the heatwave that consumes everyone. The time capsule will be dug up and with it, everyone’s secrets. The question is, who has the most to lose? Who has the most to HIDE? What would they do for the truth to stay buried?
OOC EVENT DETAILS:
✗ SUNDAY JULY 5TH: Discord event ( 4:30PM EST onwards )
✗ DHTASK ; please submit what your characters submission to the time capsule was by the day of the event here. This task is compulsory for the event and will affect what takes place, if it is not completed it will lessen the involvement of your character in the unfolding events.
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You don’t hear about it from your friends, you don’t hear about it from your family. You hear about it splashed across the six o’clock news in the latest segment about the house on the hill and it’s inhabitants. Suddenly the newly risen son is forgotten because the media have their teeth into something new.
PSYCHIC CLAIMS TO HAVE BEEN HIRED BY SON OF DECEASED MILLIONAIRE TO COMMUNICATE WITH HIM BEYOND THE GRAVE. THE LATEST TWIST IN A TALE THAT HAS US ALL ON THE EDGE OF OUR SEATS.
Yet again the house on the hill is the centre of attention, a media frenzy that will probably never end. Endless letters and social media notifications begging for a seat in the front row for the spiritual event of the century. Little do they know how Vidal Athanas haunts that house with or without the presence of his odd spirit. It’s a night that nobody will forget, even if you’re already praying to.
OOC EVENT DETAILS:
✗ INTERACTIVE GAME: If you have never played one before, the link to a multiple choice game created by the admin will be sent out. This game will allow you to choose options which lead to a set point -- please only take it ONCE in character. You can play the other endings out if you like but comment the one that your character got!
✗ WEDNESDAY 27TH ONWARDS: This event can be discussed across the dash, it is a focus on television and the news so it will be well known by everyone with eyes and ears.
✗ SATURDAY 30TH: Discord event ( 4:30PM EST onwards ) -- This is not compulsory! Don’t worry if you can’t make it!
News is in the wind about the return of a certain ex-Vertmoor golden boy who might finally be able to put two and two together. Ripples appear in the Vertmoor police department... or maybe they’re just huge cracks and soon Chandler Johnson is out pending his trial, house arrest placed on that house upon the hill where the trouble all began.
On the same day Nino Haines is arrested for the attempted murder of Virginia Van Santen, his fingerprints lifted directly from the motherboard from the night of the attach by a follow up forensic expert. No gun is in sight but for once it seems sure; this is an open and closed case. One of the many mysteries finally solved but just like ever, only leading to another... the ransacking of Ricardo Haines’ office and the mysterious disappearance of both him and his step son Alex Haines. Two men, missing or on the run? Even Vertmoor police department can’t figure out why but they didn’t hesitate to leave Nino behind, locked up and waiting for a miracle or maybe... a confession from someone else.
There’s a stirring around town, something’s going on. People don’t quite know what’s afoot but a few special individuals are in on a secret plot to break into the Vidal Athanas foundation. They all have their own agenda, their own reasons and suspicions, some curious about what that box from the time capsule drama contained (for a lot of different reasons). Others are just tagging along for the fun and excitement, the fear of missing out on something happening and being left in the dark. The only thing that’s certain is that they’ll probably find more than they bargained for.
When has anything EVER had a happy ending in Vertmoor?
OOC EVENT DETAILS:
✗ SUNDAY JULY 25TH: Discord event ( 4:45PM EST onwards )
