hey, while im waiting, i think i might add a main cast thing to the beginning. i was going to say it's for new readers, but it'll mostly be for funsies! it only applies to the characters as they begin, so bits like Alex being a trans woman aren't explained. 

you guys have sort of stopped playing? this happens occasionally, but, uh, for some reason it's stressing me out this time? just gimme a thumbs up that you're there? 

@azalea: Ryan was definitely a grower for me. i intended to make him a despicable person and ended up accidentally caring about him after actually thinking him through... so rest assured that i hold him, as all my characters, in high regard. but of course, that doesn't ensure his safety. and yess, almost a year! im not sure if the 25th or the 24th should count as the anniversary... I'm leaning towards the 25th, as that's when the first actual part was written. maybe I should have made that a character's birthday, but eh. 

~~

SAM'S HOUSE==>

You think it over. It isn't too tough of a decision, you can always backtrack if need be.

YOU: We should try Sam's first, I think. He is more likely to be there, if only by a modicum. 

Wren: Okay, cool. And, uh, in your face, Antimony. She didn't even know my position, and she took it anyway.

Antimony: Hm. It never fails to interest me that we are capable of differing in opinion, despite being exact duplicates. It probably says something about free will and the nature versus nurture debate, but it is 8:15, and thus my brain no work. 

Wren: Okay. Everyone's eaten, right?

You glimpse down at your plate, and find that it is, in fact, empty. Just a few crumbs left. You stick them to your finger and chow down. 

YOU: Short of licking the platter clean, yes.

Wren: Sweet. Antimony, you done?

Antimony: Ayup. 

Wren: Great! To the Wrenmobile!

The "Wrenmobile" is an incredibly old and ugly Ford Scorpio painted a hideous baby blue. Wren started calling it the Wrenmobile the exact day she found it in a garage behind the Hawthorne Manor. The day she got it, she almost wept for joy. You walk down the steps, Antimony's cane clicking on every step. 

Antimony: Shotgun.

YOU: >:(

She hops in beside Wren, and you climb into the back seat. Wren starts blaring her Joni Mitchell Christmas music, which is painfully morose, and seasonally unfitting. She blasts down the sleepy streets of Emerald Springs. You glance out your window at the marsh.

YOU: Huh.

Wren: What's up, dude?

YOU: There is... This black space out in the marsh.

Wren: Yeah? Oh crap, you're right. I wonder if that's...

Antimony: Apophis.

Wren: Huh. Well maybe it'll happen soon then. It'll be a relief either way, honestly. We can quit living with this hanging over our heads. 

YOU: I suppose we will be seeing the Oracle soon then.

Wren: Maybe, yeah, oh man, it's her signature song. You guys know the words. Let's do this.

YOU:  ... It's coming on Christmas/They're cutting down trees.

Antimony: They're putting up reindeer and singing songs of joy and peace.

Wren: Oh, I wish I had a river...

After the entirety of River by Joni Mitchell, you reach the hill leading up to the Hawthorne Manor. The trees are dense as always, and Wren roars past the Manor, and toward Sam's house.

After Sam's dad died, he just sort of ended up living in his old house again. With Tracy, actually. Their dad didn't seem to care much, and nobody showed up to kick Sam out. You did have to get your dad to get Wren's grandfather to pay for the water and electric bills, but it worked out, sort of. 

But nature has kind of taken the house. Vines crawl up it, and it's pretty dirty. There are some broken windows. It looks dead, in a way. It must be weird living in a place that looks like a corpse. 

The Wrenmobile stops in front of the house, and someone comes out. It's Tracy. They wave with their black arm.

The price of their healing power. Every time they use it, firstly, it hurts very badly. But second, a patch of black skin, actually black, like the night sky, spreads a tiny bit. Initially it went up to their elbow, with tendrils reaching their shoulder. But they used it. A lot. It covers their shoulder now, with tendrils up to their left ear. 

Wren rolls down the window.

Tracy: Hey. Thought you might try here first. Sam's in the other house. So is, the, the body.

Wren: Oh. Is he taking that alright? 

Tracy: Pfft. Yeah. 

Wren: You didn't do the thing again, did you?

Tracy: I love him. So yeah. I did it. 

Wren: That's ... You shouldn't have that-

Tracy: Dude, imagine you had the power to just suck out the trauma from another person. You'd do it for Diana and Antimony, wouldn't you? If they asked, you would. And he asks. Every time. And he's fine again. I take his trauma, and he's fine. You don't want me to do it for you, fine.

Wren: Okay. You want a ride?

Tracy: Nah. It's a block. I'll walk. Hey Diana. Hey, Antimony.

Antimony: Hi! 

YOU: Hi!

The Wrenmobile speeds down the road again. And then a deer steps out into the road. Wren breaks, honking her horn. The deer doesn't move. It smiles. It pulls it's lips back, and shows it's human teeth.

What.

What do you ... Do.

ROLL DOWN WINDOW AND YELL==>

You roll down your window, and your companion's follow. You stick your head out.

YOU: We almost killed you! Move!

The deer continues to smile blankly. It's eye, the only one you can see from it's profile, is a sickly yellow, fishlike and wet. It's teeth are yellow too. 

Wren: Get out of the way! I'm trying to drive the... The Wrenmobile... Uh... You're a deer. You can't... You can't understand me. 

YOU: I am not certain about that. It looks... Like a not normal deer. 

Wren: Nah, that's just an ugly deer.

Antimony: Honk the horn again. 

Wren does, but the deer only takes a lethargic step to the side. 

Deer: hn.

YOU: Look, look. It spoke. 

Wren: Honey, it said "hn." That's a deer sound. 

Deer: Hn! Hnnnnnn.... Ha. It. Is happening. Soon.

It speaks like every sound it makes causes it physical pain.

Deer: One... One wishes. You to know He. Has eyes everywhere. Ha. You are not safe.

It retreats back into the woods. 

Wren: Wow. 

YOU: ...

Wren: That was a really ugly deer.

Antimony: Hideous.

Wren: And, okay, it spoke, you were right, Deen. Look, I'm gonna just drive to the Manor. It's, uh, we've got too much to think about already, you know.

You agree, actually. The Wrenmobile drives the rest of the short way to the house. When you reach it, you all feel a little stupid about going to the other house first. The Window is broken, and there's clearly a corpse or something in the room, behind the broken glass. The car parks outside of the gate. 

Alex and Sam are standing outside the house, Sam in the middle of some rambling conversation with himself. He has long white dreadlocks now, which look nice. Alex is in her jacket and hat, which are actually seasonally appropriate for once. She has a curly bob under her hat, and she looks cold. Probably because it's cold.

Sam: But, no, I've never read the book, because I'm not exactly a literary guy, okay, but judging by the movie alone, that ginger manchild isn't exactly in a position to impart moral lessons on the youth he's recklessly endangering, right?

Sam: I mean, okay, he seems a little psychotic, right? All screaming at kids in a tunnel. And he lives in a friggin deathtrap, don't get me started. But, uh, I dunno.

Sam: All I'm saying is if he died, I think the tiny orange dwarf morality police slash Greek chorus would have a verse or two reserved for him. Like:

Sam: Oompa Loompa Doompity Do/We've got another message for you.

Alex:Please stop.

Sam: Take a man who is wasted by fear/Lock him inside his workplace for years/A chocolate paradise of ethical law/Filletin' kids like a Walmart Jigsaw.

Alex: Oh look! Our friends the polycule are here! That's why we should stop having this conversation. Not because this is the second time you've devolved into freestyling about Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and I'm tired of talking to you. 

Sam: Oh, hey guys. Wassup, I'm dead. 

YOU: So I've heard. 

Sam: Yep, my body slammed through that window over ther- Well hey, you can see it. 

Alex:How do you want to start this investigation?

How do you want to start this investigation?

sorry guys, i went back to school on Wednesday, and so I've been not thinking about this! i think ill have a part out by the end of today though!

FONDLY REMINISCE==>

You remember Ducktective, your favorite police procedural starring an animal who can't talk. If Ducktective were here, he would know what to do. You wouldn't, because, again, he is incapable of human speech. But he'd know.

YOU: Okay, how about we do what Ducktective would do?

Alex: Isn't that a show for kids?

Sam: Hey, don't hate, Alex. Didn't we watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory just last night?

Alex: Well, yes, but I didn't want to! You insisted! You stole the remote from me and used your super strength to play keep away!

Sam: Aw, little miss pissy is eighteen and suddenly can't watch children's media without throwing a fit. 

Wren tries to stifle a smile while Alex's shrieks in response.

Wren: What would Ducktective do, honey?

YOU: He would probably look at the body first! 

Tracy shows up and files into your group. You all go inside. You walk over to the broken window, and look down at Sam's body. There's a hole in it's chest, and both eyes are open. It's even paler than Sam usually is.

Antimony: It looks like he got lasered through the chest! Probably by Apophis, right?

Alex: I mean, yeah, that's definitely what it looks like. But... You know, Apophis is locked away in that void. This guy got thrown in through the window, or blasted in. The crash woke us up. 

Tracy: At risk of offering the suggestion everyone is hoping not to think about... Apophis isn't stuck there forever. We've known He was going to break out eventually. It's been three years. Maybe his bonds are... Loosing.

YOU: We saw a black dome over the marsh, like what you described in you vision, Sam. 

Everyone is quiet for a bit. Wren finally speaks.

Wren: Oh, Sam, uh... I found my own dead body once, it's an intense experience... Uh, if you're grieving or anything, we can do whatever you feel like we have to.

Sam: Grieving? ....nah. You know me, I'm pretty much laid back about this kind of stuff. I've had a conversation with a version of myself that was impaled on my dad's sword. I pulled my own eye out. I've seen weirder.

Tracy looks almost guilty for a moment. Wren glares at them, and they turn away.

Sam: 'sides, it's not even really me. Y'know, Antimony is a duplicate of Diana, and they aren't the same. This guy just happens to share my genes. Lucky him, you know?

YOU: I guess there are two ways to find out if Apophis is getting loose. Get in through the basement and check if He's still down there, or check out the marsh. 

What do you want to try?

@azalea: wooo seniors alright 

~~

BASEMENT==>

YOU: I suppose one of the two is a much easier option...

Sam: Yeah, I was gonna say. Taking a peep at my own coolin' corpse is one thing, but wading in mud and tall grass I can't abide.

Alex: ...

Alex: >:/

Sam: Yeah, that was weird, gonna have to assign a solid "my bad" to that one. 

Wren: So, we want to head to the basement tunel system, right?

Antimony: That would be an affirmative, ma'am. 

Wren: Sounds good to me. 

You lived in this house for about two and a half years, and you still don't know any better way to find any particular part of it than picking a direction and walking. That's basically what happens now. Tracy is leading, because they need to feel like they're capable. Sam is following Tracy, because that is what he does. You're kind of clumped up with Wren, Antimony, and Alex. Alex is looking at the old photographs that line the hallways.

Alex: Y'know, the pictures of my mom and our aunts is nice. It makes you wonder if Grandpa is, like, a tiny bit human.

Wren: I think my mom put most of them up, while she was still around. The only ones he put up are of that woman with the scar.

Alex: Huh. Was she our grandma, or?

Wren: I'm pretty sure our grandfather reproduced asexually, like a single-celled organism. 

You think that was probably sarcasm.

Antimony: (have you thought very much about wren's birthday?)

Oh man, that's pretty soon. You have a present, but basically nothing else. Maybe you all ought to go down to the courthouse and get married. You might be running out of time to do that. You're young, but, y'know, evil god, borrowed time.

YOU: (wait... can three women legally get married in this state?)

Antimony: (uh... no? not in any state? but a piece of paper is not necessary to validate our relationship. so, you can marry her, i think you have first dibs. we will just pretend i married you guys too. )

YOU: (or we could do something else, i do not know.)

As you round a corner, you find a staircase, spiralling down into the earth. You wonder how far the tunnels go. You've been a little... Nervous about enclosed places and underground areas since you fell in the Crawler nest. That was bad. You Awakened, but you'd rather it have not happened, and that you had never Awakened than...

Oh, you're going down the stairs. Okay.

YOU: ...

You're sweating. This is.... This isn't good. Wren wraps an arm around your shoulder and holds you close to her. She's warm, and you're a little less terrified. A little. 

It glows down in the tunnels. A faint green. There's the sound of thrumming machinery. You look down the hall and see... Sketch Hawthorne? Huh.

What do you do?

~~

any of you guys like Black Country, New Road? 

SNEAKING==>

What's that freak doing here? You look and see that he's turned away from your group, at least, so getting the drop on him might not be that hard. He's inputting the code on the terminal next to the door. You signal to your friends to be quiet, and they all give you the thumbs up. You and Wren bring up the front, and Antimony is near the back. She has the idea to hold onto Sam so she doesn't have to use her cane and make too much noise. 

You take a good look at Wren. Her expression is impenetrable. You know for a fact that her grandfather hasn't been very available recently. Not that any of you particularly miss him. After the dance, when you had learned that he'd almost gotten Sam and Tracy killed, they'd had a screaming match, Wren and Sketch. The first of many, the most recent on Halloween. You don't think you've seen him since then. He's probably been camped out in these tunnels like some freak.

Ah, he's opened the door and entered whatever room is behind it. Yeah, this is a long tunnel, you should've figured that he'd leave before you could reach him. 

Alex:(so, do we still have to be quiet, or.)

Antimony: We are probably fine. I suppose I can stop leaning on you. 

Alex: Alright. We kow for a fact that he knows about this stuff, so we can interrogate him and stuff. Tracy, you're the most evil of all of us, so...

Tracy: Evil?

Sam: Oh yeah, evil Tracy Peixoto. Don't talk to them until they've had their evil coffee.

Alex: Okay, smart and scary.

Tracy: I'll cop to smart and scary.

You continue toward the door. Wren inputs the code. It opens. Sketch is standing in a small room, with giant test tubes on either side of the walls. He looks up and smiles. A... Figure suspended in one test tube twitches slightly.

YOU: What is all of this? 

Wren:...

Sketch: Figured you'd be down here eventually. Here to ask about your friend? 

Sam: Huh?

Sketch: The scowly one, with the black hair? He betrayed you, you know.

Wren: Shut up. We're not down here for you.

Alex: Uh... Actually, could you elaborate on that, sir? 

Wren: He's messing with us. That's all he ever does.

Sketch smiles even wider.

YOU: Yes. I trust Ryan. 

YOU: Holy crap I trust Ryan

Sketch: He killed your big bug friend. Fortunately, it had it coming.

The Oracle? No, Ryan couldn't have done that, even if he'd wanted to. Powerscaling wouldn't allow it. But still. Sketch looks serious. Sam speaks up, before Wren can.

Sam: Dude, these tubes.... They look just like the ones Hastur used to clone us.

He looks closer at one. You do as well.

Sam: This looks like a little teenage Hawthorne.

That is true. Long nose, sunken eyes, thin face... It looks like a Hawthorne relative trapped in glass.

Sam: ... Dude, is that a clone of yourself? 

Sketch: One of... Several. 

Alex: Did you steal Hastur's clone technology?

A strange, but familiar voice speaks.

Hastur: He didn't steal it.

He walks around a corner. Yellow robe. Space helmet with a reflective visor. Boots that are clearly spray-painted doc martens. Wren tenses up even more than she already was. 

Wren: You're... Him.

Hastur: Ah! You've heard of me. Yes. Sketchy and I actually collaborated on the designs. I gotta say, it's been incredibly helpful for the both of us. 

Alex: Both of you?

Hastur: Yep! I used it for my clone army, and he.... Well, he told you, I'm sure.

Sketch: Shut up.

Hastur: Oh, they don't know? Saving that bit for later, huh? 

Sketch: Shut. Up.

Hastur: I mean, you have a huge bombshell to drop! You can't really tell me you're not going to?

Sketch: Still your idiot tongue.

Hastur: I mean, presumptive. Who's to say I have a tongue? Could be spider mandibles for all you know. And, uh, I dunno, man. They've got a right to know. You know?

Sketch turns and leaves. 

Hastur: Huh. I was just messing around. You know? Yanking his chain. Hey kids! 

Wren steps forward. There's nothing mysterious about her expression now. It's rage. Pure, white hot rage. She's not smiling, but her thin lips are bared over her teeth like an angry dog. It's... Weirdly attractive? You're not going to examine that any further.

Wren: You've killed countless versions of my girlfriend. You tormented her throughout her entire childhood. You paralyzed another version of her. She would've died like all the others if we hadn't been there. And then I meet you... And you're four feet tall, and making idiotic jokes. I'm going to kill you.

Hastur cocks his head to the side. 

Hastur: Hey, all right kid.  You wanna start a street fight with me, you're gonna be surprised at how ugly it gets. None of you even know my real name. I'm the Yellow King.

He doesn't say the words Yellow King. It feels like your brain fills those words in so you don't have to think about what he said. Wren backs down, terrified.

Hastur: And hey, how about some gratitude, man? That's a novel idea! "Gee Hastur! Thanks for building us an entire army so we can beat Apophis easier!" Oh, you're welcome! While your precious baby Oracle was skipping around and acting like a deadbeat dad, old Hastur was busy helping actually fight your enemy! And making spares! I actually delayed the end of the world by three years! But no, I broke some ethical rules. That's crap. You'd be nothing without me. Heck, Wren, your precious extra girlfriend wouldn't exist without me. You wouldn't exist without me! I own you! And your cousin.

Alex: Huh?

Hastur: I OWN YOU! I OWN YOU!!!

Wren: What are you talking about?

Hastur seems like he's rolling his eyes, though you can't see his eyes. 

Hastur: Do the math, kid. Think about the unlikelihood of both of you being transgender, and your mom's also being transgender. 

Wren: My mom was-

A loud cracking sound rings out. Hastur wavers on his feet. His helmet is cracked open, blue liquid leaking from it. He falls to the ground. Sketch Hawthorne stands behind him, with a massive ball-peen hammer. He's panting. He slams the hammer into Hastur's helmet again. The helmet shatters.

What do you do?

yo everyone! getting kinda hectic now, huh? alright, the 25th is the one year anniversary, and ill have a SpEcIaL pRiZe!!! uh... if it's actually done in time. it might be out a couple days late. but until then, business as usual!

(note: sketch says some slightly transphobic stuff in this part! im trans myself, so i think it goes without saying, but his opinions are not my own!)

~~

CONFUSION ==>

You have a vague idea of what Hastur was talking about? You think? But he's dead, and laying in front of you, so you can't really think very hard about it. Sketch pants and turns to your group.

Sketch: Okay. This... This is salvageable. This is... 

He looks at the blue, stained hammer in his hand, and throws it in a panic. 

Sketch: This... May have been a miscalculation. He told you, didn't he? 

Wren: No. But I can do the math. I'm... You.

He laughs. 

Sketch: You're nothing like me. You're clones of clones. Your mother's were clones of me, and very poorly made ones at that. Far from exact. They differentiate from me in many ways. That... Glitch where you all decide you're women. Other interesting things like that. 

He looks down at the body, and laughs again.  

Sketch: Hey,  I guess I had to get rid of him somehow. He wasn't going to be anything more than a hindrance from now on. But this is a heck of a way. 

Wren stares forward blankly. Alex has the same expression. From context clues, you assume that expression means: this terrible person is not just related to me, he is almost me.

Wren: My mom was transgender? She... Cloned me? Am I on Jerry Springer?! And you... You got her killed! 

Sketch rolls his eyes.

Sketch: Yes, your little albino friend figured that out. I do wish he hadn't told you. That's all you talk about. 

Wren: She could have completely understood me. She chose to make me. She wanted to love me and YOU KILLED HER. YOU KILLED MY MOM.

Sketch: She wasn't your mom, idiot. Weren't you paying attention? 

You step towards Sketch, and kick him in the kneecap. He shouts out in pain. He slaps you across the face, and you stagger back. He is a lot stronger than he looks. Wren walks up behind him. She's holding the hammer. She raises it for a moment, and she's staring at him crazily. She pulls back, and he turns to look at her. And he smiles.

She drops the hammer.

Wren: I'm... I'm not like you.

Sketch: Well clearly not. I almost respected you, but I guess....

He forgot about the extra girlfriend. Antimony hobbled over while he was distracted, and she begins beating him with her cane.

Sketch: Ow! 

YOU: She is better than you are, jerk! 

Sam: Yeah, dude, and she's got some decided assets on her side. Example A: Aberdeen precept number one: always have a sword on you.

Sketch: What? Where were you hiding that?

Alex: Dude, she's the anti-you, which is probably why she's the best person I've met.

Sketch: Oh, hello Alex. I forgot you were here. 

Tracy: Those marks on your face look like they might bruise pretty badly. I can heal them, but you'd better start talking. 

Sketch scoffs.

Sketch: I've been bruised before. 

Tracy: Sam, stab him.

Sam stabs him.

Wren: Okay, look, if you have a story to tell, tell it.

It takes some more cane-beating, but he agrees.

Sketch Hawthorne:

He tells you that he is very old. He tells you that he came from England in the early 1900s, just in time to witness the previous incarnation of the Six be slaughtered wholesale. He was young then, about seventeen. He met people who knew about these things, and became well versed in the extraordinary events in the area. He even allowed himself to be happy for a long time. In love. But he became convinced that the future hinged on the next incarnation of the Six. He became obsessed with somehow influencing them. After meeting the Oracle, and learning that the Six were children personally selected by the Oracle, he decided that was what he needed.His initial attempts to have children failed. He was aging as well, nearing his sixties.

Sketch: It was then that I met Hastur.

Hastur had developed a technology that could clone new organs. Using that, Sketch was able to indefinitely expand his lifespan. But Hastur had an idea. With Sketch's help, he could create entire people. The machine was built after a few years. It was fairly rudimentary then. It created nonexact clones.

Sketch: Three sons. Although they revised that later. Each of them. Individually. And they tried to tell me that I was the common denominator. No. It wasn't for a while that the machine was able to make exact duplicates, like that one.

The Oracle has refused to choose any of the children he had created, nor the one he had adopted. Regardless, he did his best to train them, for several years. Rolling with the punches. When his wife left him, it only meant he had more time for his projects.

Sketch: But you know how that ended. They used my technology to make their own children. Three of them died, two from their own failings, and one, yes, by my hand. And then the Oracle chose you. You. Everything was for nothing. Alex's mother left, and I was only able to even try to make anything out of Wren. The failure. 

End of story

Wren: ...

Alex: ...

Antimony: Clone gang, let's go.88

Tracy: Not the time.

Wren: ... Are you kidding? This is the perfect time. Yeah man, clone gang.

Alex: Clone Gang. I... Do kind of wish that my mom had told me about this? I mean, I knew she was transgender, I just figured it was hereditary or something. I guess it sort of is. 

Sketch: Now please heal me. 

Tracy does so.

Huh.

Is there anything else you need to do here, or can you move on?