londoncallingrpg | Haunted House GP

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Haunted House GP

The house doesn't exist, that's the first thing anyone who might find themselves inside it would want to know. Now, you might ask how one could find themselves inside something that doesn't exist, but you'd honestly be better off asking yourself how you could leave something that doesn't exist. After all, ideas and concepts can't be burnt or broken, and you can't breakdown a door that's not there- Or was there and then decided to be somewhere else for a while...

You wake in a house though, a house that doesn't exist. A house that defies the laws of reality. There are corridors that go on for days, rooms full of nightmares, and millions of doors that lead you anywhere but out. Trapped inside with you are dozens of other people, all searching for an exit, or an explanation.

Behind every door you'll find your darkest fears, maybe even memories you've tried to forget, or secrets you never wanted to share...

(OTA! Here is your first of two Halloween gps! This one is, of course, set in the haunted house where your pup can run into anything you can dream up! Deadly traps! Spooky monsters! An existential crises! Top level your pups waking up or running into danger, and then go ahead and tag other players! Since this is all magic-y and spooky don't worry too much about time lines and who bumped into who first. Only rule is that your pup can't escape until November 1st! Have fun! Also, because there are two GPs going up this week, both are open to new top levels for two whole weeks! And, of course, you can keep tagging long after that if you want. :D I'll post reminders daily on slack.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"The man who killed my predecessor- And my boss, and dozens of others," Q said quietly, reading over her shoulder as he spoke. "Remarkable mind, technical genius- And one of the most unsettling men I've ever had the misfortune of encountering. ...And I never even met him face to face. Seeing him via monitor was terrifying enough."

The screen flicked, and again the same message came up.

NOT SUCH A CLEVER BOY

Behind him he heard doors opening mechanically, one by one, the soft but threatening sound of someone approaching.

"We need to go," he said- reaching to grab Dutch's arm- then stopping himself at the last moment. It wasn't his place to drag her along, not when she'd made it clear she didn't trust him.

"Please," he added, his voice pleading and nervous.

It was the tone of his voice that got Dutch to look away from the screen, and into his face.

"Yeah, okay," she agreed after a beat, standing up to go with him.

She wasn't curious enough she was ready to risk running into someone that had him spooked. She figured he didn't spook easily.

Q didn't run, but he did move briskly, pulling wires as he passed by towers, then opening the door and stepping out into... A hall?

"I don't suppose you know the way out. ...Or where we are, for that matter," he said, glancing at Dutch as he spoke.

It was rare that Q appeared rattled, but right now he seemed genuinely shaken.

"No clue," Dutch confirmed, closing the door behind herself. "And I'm not liking the Shining vibe. Come on," she added, walking further down the hallway.

Q glanced back one last time, as if fearing Silva was right behind him, then moved to catch up and walk at Dutch's side.

"You don't recall how you arrived here then?" he asked, quietly hopeful that he wasn't the only one unable to recall that particular detail. "I simply woke up in that room- Not a completely uncommon happening for me, but strange given that no one was threatening to break my hands or demanding information from me," he added dryly.

"Bit more uncommon for me," Dutch remarked wryly. "So what happened to that bloke? The one who killed your boss?" The one he thought was on their trail, clearly.

"He was killed by one of the agents I run," Q replied. "Which is what makes that room so bloody impossible. No one else could have recreated it so perfectly, Dutch. He had a very particular way of coding. I'd know his work anywhere."

He paused then, glancing at Dutch. "Silva," he said, suddenly eyeing her with caution. "Surely his name isn't completely foreign to you. It's whispered with a modicum of reverence in certain circles- Even by me, and I know exactly what sort of a monster he was. ...Tell me you're not involved with this though, Dutch."

Silva. Dutch frowned. "Of course I'm not." So what if she'd got some hackers together to get some things done for him a couple of years ago. That wasn't relevant to the here and now. Or so she hoped. "How sure are you he's dead?"

"Less sure than I was yesterday," Q replied, frowning to himself, then tensing again as he heard footsteps heading their way.

Dutch looked back down the hallway, but there was no one, despite the sound. "This is seriously freaky," she stated, picking up the pace.

"Not the adjective I'd have chosen, but I can't say I don't agree," Q replied, his heart fluttering as the footsteps grew louder, accompanied now by a familiar whistling.

Panic won out, and Q caught Dutch's hand and pulled her into the next room they passed, locking it once they were inside.

"I don't think it's safe out..."

He cut himself off as he finally took in the room they'd walked into. ...A perfect recreation of the tiny studio apartment he'd called home before he'd been recruited by Six. A dump of a place, with peeling wallpaper and a bed that was nothing more than a mattress on the floor.

The walls held posters of several bands, from punk to early 2000's EDM. and in the centre of the bed sat a laptop. Q's first real machine, covered in stickers and held together with little more than duct tape and hope.

"This- This can't be real. It has to be a dream- Or a psychotic break. That would certainly explain why you're here anyway."

"What, I'm likely to be a fixture in your psychotic breaks?" Dutch challenged, but kept her voice low in case the thing outside heard them. Whatever it was.

"What is this place?" she asked, looking around at the posters. Pretty approvingly.

The young Quartermaster was silent for a moment, reluctant to offer an answer. However, it seemed pointless to try and keep it a secret when he was certain there were traces of the truth littered all over the room.

"Home," he said finally. "Before I joined six."

"You're shitting me," Dutch stated incredulously, and then moved over to climb on his bed and grab the laptop. "It's saying the same thing again," she told him, turning it around so he could see the "NOT SUCH A CLEVER BOY" message.

"Of course it does," Q sighed, fidgeting a bit, then wrapping his arms around himself protectively.

He felt safe in here though- Perhaps that was a mistake, given how miserable his life had been during his brief time in this room. However, he still relaxed slightly as he moved to sit down on the bed, reaching to take his old laptop from Dutch.

Forcing a restart, he brought up what appeared to be a custom Linux build.

"That's the only thing Silva ever said to me, directly during his attack on England. A message programmed to pop up as he hacked into my- Six's- systems," Q admitted. "Not such a clever boy. He knew I was young and cocky... And because he was correct about both those things, I got a lot of people killed."

Tapping away, he opened various files and pulled up bits of data- All of it years old now.

"I've always thought this might be what hell was like," he said quietly. "Trapped in a museum of all the worst parts of your life. ...Though it still begs the question- Why are you here? Unless your personal hell is still lurking around the next corner."

"Unless I'm just part of yours," Dutch remarked, her eyes not leaving the screen as he worked. Hey, she would take every bit of information she could get on him, and who he used to be.

Apart from someone who had good taste in music.

Anyone who'd been active in the scene at the time might notice familiar coding or even symbols and code names in the files that popped open- And a savvy observer might have even been able to see that Q had clearly been involved in some rather naughty activities before becoming Six's Quartermaster.

"Unlikely," he replied. "You might see me as the enemy, Dutch- But I've never viewed you that way."

"As your past, then?" Dutch challenged, looking away from the screen and up at him. If this room from his past belonged in his personal hell, then so did she, the way she saw it.

Not that she was any kind of happy about it.

"I don't regret the things I did before coming to six," he assured her. "I did as much good as I did wrong back then, and it all helped me become the man I am now- For better and worse. You're not wrong though, I do see shades of my past in you, Dutch- But not in a bad way. ...No, if this is hell- It's hell because this room was a cage."

He put the computer down, looking around the room again and taking it all in.

"I allowed myself to be taken advantage of, because I very much needed to fit somewhere. I was young and stupid."

There was a bang on the door then, a slow and heavy thud, but Q hardly even flinched. He was tired of being afraid.

"We should keep moving," he said calmly, grabbing a ratty looking backpack and shoving the laptop inside, just in case they needed it. "If this really is hell, I don't imagine that's actually a closet," he said, nodding at a shabby looking door that as nearly coming off its hinges.

"I'm not sure if that's more Narnia or Harry Potter," Dutch muttered as she headed for the door to the closet. It was better not to answer his revelations; he didn't need to know the sort of person she was. The sort of person she'd become.

She opened the door, then took a step back at the sight of her old flat, this time, the one she'd had before leaving for New York. Surprise over, she stepped through and headed for the desk, where a couple of laptops and a desktop computer were running.

"I guess we're on a trip down memory lane," she stated, and unplugged the desktop computer before he could see what was running on it, although he doubtless would have time to recognise Silk Road shit. She reached for the laptops, to close and pack them, hopefully in time for him not to have questions either.

"Wait, what's that?" Q asked, noticing something familiar on the screen- only to have it go dark as she unplugged it.

"I really don't think here's a good place for secrets, Dutch," he sighed, raking his fingers through his hair and looking back at the door they'd just come through. "Whatever it is... You can tell me. We need to tell each other everything, because all of this has to mean something."

"I'm part of your personal hell, remember?" Dutch replied, glad that he wasn't angling for a closer look at the laptops. She closed them and shoved them in a messenger bag. "I don't think I'm supposed to answer questions like that. Let's keep moving before something way more terrifying than me catches up."

Q wasn't about to let it go so easily though, and he gently caught her arm.

"Dutch- Please," he said again. You're here, you're real- Don't pretend you're just part of this nightmare. ...Please," he begged softly.

"Of course I'm real," Dutch confirmed easily. But that was just what a figment of his nightmare would say, wouldn't he. She settled the strap of her messenger bag around her chest, then went rooting into her closet. And came back out with a fireman's axe.

"Don't ask," she told him, and headed for the door.

"I very much don't want to," Q assured her, frowning at the axe, then following after her.

This time they found themselves back in the seemingly endless hall, the lights above them flickering violently.

"Well, that doesn't bode well, does it?" he sighed.

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