THE UPPER LEVELS

[peckishmods]

up into the balconies

you climb

The breathing boughs of that nightmare tree crowd into the upper balconies of the ruined auditorium. You have to duck and bend to get by them in places, sometimes through spaces that seem to grow smaller as you press through. These branches are warm to the touch, some of them uncomfortably so, pulsing with something that isn't quite life.

You've climbed these stairs more than once in your time here; to take your place after your sorting, to watch new students find their House, or perhaps just for an assembly. This building always seemed so sturdy, so safe. It was a place to go for shows, for celebrations, and hell, to just get out of class. Now, the floorboards creek precariously, split and splintering where vines have crept through. Benches are broken, overturned and tossed aside to make room for the auditorium's new king: the malignant maple. Up here, the glowing blue seeds hanging from branches are close enough to pluck. Those that have ripened litter the floor and railings, filling the balconies with an eerie blue twinkle.

The air is muggy, clogged by falling ash. It stinks of coal and sulfer. But you keep moving, anyway. Keep opening portals and pushing on. Just a little bit higher, and then maybe you'll be able to plunge into the depths.

and you fight

By now there's a plan, and with it, a slowly growing brigade of people, of beings, of bugs, who are gathering to push back against inevitability.

and you never give up

TO ELSEWHERE
| TO THE BASE OF THE TREE | TO OUTSIDE | TO THE SORTING PATH |

IN THIS HUB
| THE SECOND FLOOR | OUT ON THE BOUGHS | THE THIRD FLOOR |

OOC POSTS
| OOC ACTION HUB | OOC CHATTER - QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS |

Comments

MEMORY: Rulebreaker

[notpoison]

The nails wiggle, but do not glow. Like the child version of Laszlo, they don't quite react.

One of the boards, however, loosens slightly. There is a small clinking sound behind it, like metal on glass.

MEMORY: Rulebreaker

[teratophilia]

"Don't bother," he tells Chanel. "The sooner we find the Root, the sooner we can set him free."

Armani brushes his fingers over a plant and along the spines of books on the bookshelf as he makes his way to the door. The sorrowful journey stuck out more to him than their current surroundings.

"Keep looking in here while I check the hall?" Despite knowing it's locked, Armani tries the door handle anyway. Just to touch, just to be thorough. "Alohomora."

MEMORY: Rulebreaker

[necrodanseuse]

Ah, but something about Chanel that Armani should’ve learned just decades ago is that she will always bother. And this time, she thinks, it pays off. “I heard something, though.” She hisses and proceeds immediately to start bashing at the loose board with the blunt end of the hockey stick Armani had gifted her.