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Post by Lizica on Oct 29, 2017 0:10:41 GMT -5
You’ve already made a mental note to avoid Lizica’s house this year. You may not have always gone into them yourself in years past, but you’ve heard distressing rumors that the houses have a tendency to be somewhat homicidal. Or hungry. Or confusing. Or ridiculous. Or just plain long. In fact, sometimes the visitors don’t even get any candy! Apparently Lizica didn’t even seem to have had a trick-or-treating house last year; you kind of figure she bit off more than she could chew and was eaten by a giant spider inhabitant, or something.
In any case, you plan to avoid getting mauled by sentient pumpkins this year.
As you’re strolling through the neighborhood after having visited some other great houses, you happen upon a very blockish building. It gleams as if new, yet it’s draped in cobwebs. You stride up to it, carefully opening the white picket fence gate that allows you onto the porch.
Once there, however, you’re perplexed by the lack of a door to the house. On the wall instead, there is a mailbox of informational brochures, and beside that, two slots. They read, “PAYMENTS” and “FEEDBACK.”
And above these three things is a brass plaque that declares:
You wonder idly why there’s a business in the middle of a residential neighborhood. You didn’t think it was zoned for that.
Your thoughts are broken short when a young woman comes down the walkway in what might have once been a Sherlock Holmes costume, except it’s been reduced to an extremely ragged and torn plaid cape. She suddenly kicks open the porch gate (a motion that would have been much more impressive if it had been a door instead of a flimsy-looking picket entrance). Contradictorily, she appears to be soaking wet, yet some flyaway strands of her hair are clearly on fire. She smells a little like burned caramel.
“OKAY,” she shouts furiously, though clearly not to you. “I can deal with confused zombies, I can deal with spider web golems, but I draw the line at skeleton sharks made entirely of teeth!”
With an angry flourish, she pulls out a soggy notebook and marker. You see her write in bold, block letters, “NEVER AGAIN. -Lizica” before ruthlessly tearing off the page and jamming it into the slot labeled “FEEDBACK.”
There is a slight pause and a low, resonant scratching sound, and then a voice that seems to be directly behind you says simply, “A complaint?” There’s no one there.
“A complaint?” says another voice from somewhere within the door-less office building.
“A complaint?” says another voice, also from deep within the building.
“A complaint?” says another.
“A complaint?” and another.
“A complaint--a complaint--a complaint--a complaint?” comes a rising chorus of disembodied voices seeming to come from all over the porch and the building.
“A COMPLAINT!” the lady in the dripping plaid cape confirms in a shriek, flinging an enraged finger at the porch’s ceiling.
“...A complaint,” says the lone voice that seems to come from right behind you. It pauses. Then, “Thank you for your valuable feedback. We strive to be the best agency we can be. A representative will be with you shortly to discuss the matters with which you have found fault.”
Then the porch goes deathly silent. The drenched girl looks at you for the first time and jabs a thumb towards the building, giving you a “Can you believe them?” expression.
All of a sudden, a resounding screech echoes off the walls, and an enormous bat the size of a train car sweeps forth across the porch, seizes the girl in the bedraggled costume, and swiftly carries her off into the night in the blink of an eye.
Quietly, you consider that this might be a good time to leave.
You glance down, however, at the notebook and marker that the lady dropped onto the porch. You wonder what would happen if you were to write something yourself and submit it. If you have any complaints about their past realty, you could say something and hope it’s taken well. Or, if you have any compliments to the business (their response time is certainly quick), that could be submitted as well. Maybe they have some treats available. They do advertise themselves as doing Halloween Real Estate, so surely they would do something special for the occasion?
Basically, you’ve got a lot of blank pages and two mysterious slots, so you could do anything you like. Or you could leave. That might be wise, too.
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Post by Shinko on Oct 29, 2017 15:32:02 GMT -5
Shinko is dressed in a white collared shirt, brown slacks, and a yellow and brown plaid vest, which on their own just kind of give off the impression she raided an old man's closet on her way to a business meeting. However, she also has a weird grey-ish symbol painted on the left side of her face, from her chin to her forehead. If asked she'd have explained that the show said it was supposed to be a tattoo of a sword, and yes she knew it looked nothing like a sword, take your complaints up with the concept artists behind Jacuzzi Splot's character model!
She watched, brow raised a trifle, as the bat carried the hapless girl off, then looked down at the slots again. After a moment's pondering, she reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a small steel flask. It made sloshing noises on the inside as she dropped it into the slot labelled "PAYMENTS."
"It's just gin, I'm afraid," she mused. "No grand panacea here. But hopefully it'll suffice to placate the Halloween Real Estate overlords.
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Post by Liou on Oct 29, 2017 18:37:23 GMT -5
A mass of floating dark glyphs seems to watch the removal of the dripping plaid lady. The glyphs are unimpressed.
The glyphs hover towards the notebook. A beam of blazing red bursts from where eyes should be and rips a page right out of the notebook. The paper drifts slowly to the ground and falls flat, looking slightly larger than before.
A ripple runs through the glyphs.
Suddenly, with a bleating sound, they topple onto their side, so that each inky black shape is slammed into the paper. The glyph creature has flattened itself.
The previously untainted - albeit slightly soggy paper - now bears an eldritch message that no mortal mind can fully encompass. It is a simple, familiar form, of course - but that plain shape trickles right through the mind. All that remains are the glyphs rearranging themselves into incomprehensible patterns, while the silhouette of the creature mocks whoever dares to decipher it.
The paper glows a dark blue, flutters and folds itself a few times.
The resulting paper airplane flies straight into the "FEEDBACK" slot.
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Post by Gelquie on Oct 29, 2017 19:12:13 GMT -5
The hooded figure that dramatically swooshed in paused as they watched the scene go down, and then Lizica get swept away. Their gaze followed the flight path, with concern that would be apparently on their face had said face not been covered in their dark and mysterious cowl.
Hmm, the agency doesn't seem to take complaints well, but that reaction seemed a bit much. Although... it was prompt... Maybe the complaint was too harsh? What would happen if they submitted something that was more neutral?
They took up the marker and paper and attempted to write small. "Good, quick response time. Good polite words in the short time before quick response time. Giant flying bat carrying people away is a bit scary of a response method, though; recommend gentler tactics. Thank you for your presence and quick response time."
They tentatively slide the paper into the FEEDBACK slot. Then they pull the hood further over their face; were all the good things not enough to cancel out the effects of the bad thing? They would find out, they supposed.
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Post by Lizica on Oct 29, 2017 23:33:38 GMT -5
Shinko is dressed in a white collared shirt, brown slacks, and a yellow and brown plaid vest, which on their own just kind of give off the impression she raided an old man's closet on her way to a business meeting. However, she also has a weird grey-ish symbol painted on the left side of her face, from her chin to her forehead. If asked she'd have explained that the show said it was supposed to be a tattoo of a sword, and yes she knew it looked nothing like a sword, take your complaints up with the concept artists behind Jacuzzi Splot's character model! She watched, brow raised a trifle, as the bat carried the hapless girl off, then looked down at the slots again. After a moment's pondering, she reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a small steel flask. It made sloshing noises on the inside as she dropped it into the slot labelled "PAYMENTS." "It's just gin, I'm afraid," she mused. "No grand panacea here. But hopefully it'll suffice to placate the Halloween Real Estate overlords. You hear a dull clatter and a clinking chime, and then a pause. "Thank you for your patronage," says the disembodied voice from just behind you. "We value your support. Please consider renting one of our properties in the future." At first you think that's it, but then you realize that the pocket of your slacks feels just a bit heavier. Inside it, you find one Business Card that reads ...alongside a picture on the back of sheet ghosts raucously toasting what appears to be your own steel flask. You also find you've been given a 30%-off Coupon for a one night rental of any Fly-By-Night Halloween Real Estate property, as well as one Seemingly Normal Doorknob with Red and White Stripes! How very generous! The hooded figure that dramatically swooshed in paused as they watched the scene go down, and then Lizica get swept away. Their gaze followed the flight path, with concern that would be apparently on their face had said face not been covered in their dark and mysterious cowl. Hmm, the agency doesn't seem to take complaints well, but that reaction seemed a bit much. Although... it was prompt... Maybe the complaint was too harsh? What would happen if they submitted something that was more neutral? They took up the marker and paper and attempted to write small. "Good, quick response time. Good polite words in the short time before quick response time. Giant flying bat carrying people away is a bit scary of a response method, though; recommend gentler tactics. Thank you for your presence and quick response time." They tentatively slide the paper into the FEEDBACK slot. Then they pull the hood further over their face; were all the good things not enough to cancel out the effects of the bad thing? They would find out, they supposed. You hear a quiet but slightly frenetic tapping noise that eventually tapers off into silence. Finally, the disembodied voice: "Thank you for your valuable feedback. We strive to be the best agency we can be. We appreciate your outlandish requests and will try to take your suggestions into account in the future. Please consider renting one of our properties in the future." In your candy bag, you find one Business Card that reads alongside a picture on the back of a giant bat razing a town but with a salesman-like grin on its face. You also find you've been given a 0.5%-off Coupon for a one night rental of any Fly-By-Night Halloween Real Estate property, as well as one Exploding Popsicle (mango flavored)! ...Immediately upon your finding it, however, it promptly explodes, knocking you off your feet and getting mango juice all over you and your hooded cloak. Still, though, that could have gone worse, right? A mass of floating dark glyphs seems to watch the removal of the dripping plaid lady. The glyphs are unimpressed. The glyphs hover towards the notebook. A beam of blazing red bursts from where eyes should be and rips a page right out of the notebook. The paper drifts slowly to the ground and falls flat, looking slightly larger than before. A ripple runs through the glyphs. Suddenly, with a bleating sound, they topple onto their side, so that each inky black shape is slammed into the paper. The glyph creature has flattened itself. The previously untainted - albeit slightly soggy paper - now bears an eldritch message that no mortal mind can fully encompass. It is a simple, familiar form, of course - but that plain shape trickles right through the mind. All that remains are the glyphs rearranging themselves into incomprehensible patterns, while the silhouette of the creature mocks whoever dares to decipher it. The paper glows a dark blue, flutters and folds itself a few times. The resulting paper airplane flies straight into the "FEEDBACK" slot. You hear a series of three tones in swift succession. After a much longer pause than for anyone else so far, there is a long, grating skriiiiiittttch, as if someone is trawling a knife against the inside of the building. "Thank you for your valuable feedback!" says the disembodied voice at last. "We strive to be the best agency we can be. We regret that we have given you a sub-standard experience such that prompted any dissatisfaction or frustration. Therefore, we would like to offer you a tour of one of our estates to amend for your unpleasant experience, at no cost." You suddenly find yourself in what appears to be a rather decrepit office room, though you somehow have the distinct impression that it is not precisely the inside of the building whose porch you were just visiting. A zombie receptionist looks up at you by physically holding up her own detached head in her hands, and her expression turns quizzical upon seeing your form. "How on earth did they manage that?" she wonders. Then, she shuffles some papers on the desk, frowning and mouthing the written words "for their insolent difficulty." She clears her throat by waving a hand where her neck ought to be. "These are unguided tours," she says. "You have an unmarked door on your left, and an unremarkable door to your right." |
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Post by Celestial on Oct 30, 2017 12:08:58 GMT -5
The caravan now approaches the Real Estate agency, and the elegant lady stops her dappled horse in front of it, flying off and down on to the ground in front of the two mail boxes. She examines them carefully. How can she even see under that hood, with those shiny silver coins in her way?
"Hmm, well, since I do not really have any feedback, having never used the service before, perhaps I can offer something in exchange. After all, a business usually provides a service if you pay them."
Returning, the lady digs around in her caravan, finally producing several items. On closer inspection, they appear to be several precious stones, most of them deep red to be recognised as garnets, an old coin with a rearing horse upon it- one that does resemble her percheron, albeit slightly more elegant and far more noble looking- and something wrapped up like you would do an old scroll, though it looks suspiciously green and has the face of Abraham Lincoln looking out with a neutral expression.
"These all come from a very faraway kingdom, one that is perhaps known to this real estate agency," the lady says, smiling. One by one, she drops the objects into the slot marked PAYMENT. "What can I get for this value of currency?"
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Post by Gelquie on Oct 30, 2017 20:10:31 GMT -5
The figures sputters as they get up, brushing the dirt off only to find it was sticking. Ugh, she really wanted to eat that popsicle too, it sounded good, but now it was all over them. Even on her face... She licks some of it off. Well, it does taste good...
And I suppose it works as advertised, she begrudgingly thought.
They stare down at the coupon... Yay, that meant if a rental cost $1000, they would save... $5. On the one hand, money is money, so they shouldn't complain about discounts. But there was something about the delivery. Perhaps it too much to ask what they did, considering the... beings... at the office sent a giant bat after one complainer?
Well, they clearly needed to work on handling constructive criticism, and what better way than through practice? Besides, the figure was feeling petty. They carefully pick up the remains of the popsicle stick from the ground and slip it into the PAYMENTS slot.
"No littering," they explained.
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Post by Lizica on Oct 31, 2017 1:01:02 GMT -5
The caravan now approaches the Real Estate agency, and the elegant lady stops her dappled horse in front of it, flying off and down on to the ground in front of the two mail boxes. She examines them carefully. How can she even see under that hood, with those shiny silver coins in her way? "Hmm, well, since I do not really have any feedback, having never used the service before, perhaps I can offer something in exchange. After all, a business usually provides a service if you pay them." Returning, the lady digs around in her caravan, finally producing several items. On closer inspection, they appear to be several precious stones, most of them deep red to be recognised as garnets, an old coin with a rearing horse upon it- one that does resemble her percheron, albeit slightly more elegant and far more noble looking- and something wrapped up like you would do an old scroll, though it looks suspiciously green and has the face of Abraham Lincoln looking out with a neutral expression. "These all come from a very faraway kingdom, one that is perhaps known to this real estate agency," the lady says, smiling. One by one, she drops the objects into the slot marked PAYMENT. "What can I get for this value of currency?" You hear a soft shuffle, and then a rattling churn and a metallic pitter-pattering--almost like a gambling machine paying out. "Thank you for your patronage! Your support is invaluable," says the disembodied voice. "Please consider renting one of our properties in the future." You find you've been gifted a Business Card that reads and on the back of the card is a picture of a dragon hoarding treasure and breathing fire at a skeleton, who just grins and gives the camera finger guns. You've also been given a 60%-off Coupon for a one night rental of any Fly-By-Night Halloween Real Estate property, as well as two Antidote Apples and one Full Size Candy Bar (with fine print scribbled out)! Wow, that's--almost uncharacteristically nice! That must have been a good bribe--I mean, payment. The figures sputters as they get up, brushing the dirt off only to find it was sticking. Ugh, she really wanted to eat that popsicle too, it sounded good, but now it was all over them. Even on her face... She licks some of it off. Well, it does taste good... And I suppose it works as advertised, she begrudgingly thought. They stare down at the coupon... Yay, that meant if a rental cost $1000, they would save... $5. On the one hand, money is money, so they shouldn't complain about discounts. But there was something about the delivery. Perhaps it too much to ask what they did, considering the... beings... at the office sent a giant bat after one complainer? Well, they clearly needed to work on handling constructive criticism, and what better way than through practice? Besides, the figure was feeling petty. They carefully pick up the remains of the popsicle stick from the ground and slip it into the PAYMENTS slot. "No littering," they explained. You don't hear any other sounds, not even of the popsicle stick hitting the inside of the slot mailbox. The disembodied voice does not speak up again. Soon, however, you discover another Exploding Popsicle in your bag! ...As you all too quickly discover, that one was licorice flavored. In fact, throughout the rest of the evening, you continue to periodically find Exploding Popsicles on or around your person, in progressively unpleasant flavors for popsicles, like fish cakes, pea soup, and rotten eggs. You can't even load your catapult with them, they explode so rapidly. You hope this doesn't continue on through tomorrow. All of the remaining popsicle sticks have the printed words "THANK YOU FOR YOUR VALUABLE FEEDBACK" in all caps. |
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Post by Celestial on Oct 31, 2017 8:18:30 GMT -5
Lizica"Oh" the lady gives out a delighted gasp as the treats come tumbling out. She picks them up, putting them in all the various pockets that are hidden within the flowing folds of her skirt, and gives the agency a curtsty. "How very generous. I would dare call it a kingly gift. But it stands to reason: you please a good king, and they will reward you in kind." She unwraps the full-sized candy bar and begins to nibble on it. "Adieu then. I hope you have a good Halloween, and do consider stopping by my caravan later. I too am like a good king, and give rewards in kind." With that, the lady, still nibbling on her candy, goes back to her caravan. Her percheron gets rather curious about the candy and she is forced to push his head away before mounting the driver's seat and speeding away.
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Post by Thorn on Nov 1, 2017 5:39:48 GMT -5
Thorn and her zombies start at the sight of the giant bat. "Cor!" one says. "We need to get ourselves one of those." "Very efficient," the second observes. "They were with her in no time at all!" Thorn thinks for a moment, tapping the pen against her chin, before jotting something down: Very efficient- if you have any spooky castles, please let me know, I love those!She scribbles her contact number at the end, pops it into the 'feedback' slot, and steps back to see what happens. Sorry for being so slow! But I love your house, the introduction made me smile. |
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Post by Lizica on Nov 1, 2017 15:45:31 GMT -5
Thorn and her zombies start at the sight of the giant bat. "Cor!" one says. "We need to get ourselves one of those." "Very efficient," the second observes. "They were with her in no time at all!" Thorn thinks for a moment, tapping the pen against her chin, before jotting something down: Very efficient- if you have any spooky castles, please let me know, I love those!She scribbles her contact number at the end, pops it into the 'feedback' slot, and steps back to see what happens. Sorry for being so slow! But I love your house, the introduction made me smile. You hear a series of deep, hollow musical sounds, like a wooden marimba going up and down the scale multiple times. And then, a much more familiar sound: Your phone is ringing! "Thank you for your valuable feedback!" says the disembodied voice on the other side. (Somehow it sounds much less weird having a disembodied voice when it comes from the phone.) "We strive to be the best agency we can be. We value all of our customers and occasionally their wellbeing, and we have a wide range of castle properties available for lease! Please consider renting with us in the future!" Your zombies suddenly find themselves holding several Brochures featuring enormous castles with apropos lightning strikes in the background and descriptions written in strange ink that can only be read under a black light. You, however, find you've been given a Business Card that says accompanied on the back by a picture of a gravedigger and a vampire cheerfully unrolling a blood red carpet across a castle drawbridge. You've also been given a 30%-off Coupon for a one night rental of any Fly-By-Night Halloween Real Estate property, as well as an enormous, gleaming Pumpkin Seed the size of a trowel. Well, that's nice! They seem like they'd really appreciate doing business with you. Nooo worries, Thorn! xD You weren't obligated to visit, and it's been a hectic October. Thank you, though! ^^ |
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Post by Liou on Nov 1, 2017 19:43:51 GMT -5
You hear a series of three tones in swift succession. After a much longer pause than for anyone else so far, there is a long, grating skriiiiiittttch, as if someone is trawling a knife against the inside of the building. "Thank you for your valuable feedback!" says the disembodied voice at last. "We strive to be the best agency we can be. We regret that we have given you a sub-standard experience such that prompted any dissatisfaction or frustration. Therefore, we would like to offer you a tour of one of our estates to amend for your unpleasant experience, at no cost." You suddenly find yourself in what appears to be a rather decrepit office room, though you somehow have the distinct impression that it is not precisely the inside of the building whose porch you were just visiting. A zombie receptionist looks up at you by physically holding up her own detached head in her hands, and her expression turns quizzical upon seeing your form. "How on earth did they manage that?" she wonders. Then, she shuffles some papers on the desk, frowning and mouthing the written words "for their insolent difficulty." She clears her throat by waving a hand where her neck ought to be. "These are unguided tours," she says. "You have an unmarked door on your left, and an unremarkable door to your right." The mass of glyphs unfolds and shakes itself back into shape, wobbling dizzily. A faint red blush appears when it is called valuable feedback. The glyphs swivel in all directions, appreciative of the decrepit office aesthetic. Unmarked and unremarkable, such a tough choice... As the creature glances to the left, it begins to tremble. That wide stretch of door, so pristine, so untainted, a blank canvas. The four-legged scribble charges straight for that door and rams into it, leaving a great splatter of inky glyphs. It might have gone partly through the door as well. In any case, it's left its mark. |
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Post by Lizica on Nov 1, 2017 20:40:14 GMT -5
The mass of glyphs unfolds and shakes itself back into shape, wobbling dizzily. A faint red blush appears when it is called valuable feedback. The glyphs swivel in all directions, appreciative of the decrepit office aesthetic. Unmarked and unremarkable, such a tough choice... As the creature glances to the left, it begins to tremble. That wide stretch of door, so pristine, so untainted, a blank canvas. The four-legged scribble charges straight for that door and rams into it, leaving a great splatter of inky glyphs. It might have gone partly through the door as well. In any case, it's left its mark. The zombie receptionist calls after you, "A glyph has a lot of brains, right? Make sure you come back at lunchtime for our office party!" Past the now-gloriously-splattered door, you find...MORE OFFICES. *shudder* They truly are horrific in their boringness. Or at least, they would be if the entire room wasn't infested with ghosts hovering to and fro. "Hurry up, hurry up!" calls one of them, a short translucent blue. "You can sleep when you're dead!" They turn and see you, and their features twist in distaste. "Hey hey hey, that door has been unmarred for hundreds of years! You'll pay for that!" They're about to march-hover over, touting a legal document that looks excruciatingly long, but thankfully another ghost quickly hustles up to you first: "No, this is amazing! Could you please refill our ink cartridges in the printer?" (The printer in the corner lets out a remarkably hungry-sounding wail and snaps its copier lid like a jaw.) "We haven't gotten new ink in over a decade, so it might be a bit nippy, though," the ghost goes on. "We can pay you." He digs in his ethereal pockets and pulls out a wad of cash from a country that hasn't existed for several thousand years, and a white wooden doorknob. You can help out these long-dead folks, or if you're not feeling generous, there looks to be a hallway ahead that continues on. Something down there is slithering back and forth across the tiled floor and gurgling. |
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