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As usual, the horrible thing happened around midnight. There was a terrible noise like stone scraping on stone and the whole school shook briefly and then they appeared. Crudely hewn stone statues that still somehow managed to evoke the memory of who they were meant to represent to those who knew them.
The statues were of enemies, foes, rivals, anyone that one of the Misery-called might never want to see again. The statues look like rough hewn stone, but any attempts to deal with them the way one might a stone statue would fail. Even moving them would prove impossible, even with team work.
There is one blocking the doorway to every room used as a bedroom currently. A person could get in and out past them if they are small enough, nimble enough, or just don't mind losing a chunk of skin to the rough stone as they scrape past. Those ones would especially be targeted at whoever sleeps there.
But the rest of them will scatter the halls, making them hard to transverse. The majority of them were blocking what little light sources existed in the halls, making the passageways darker than usual. Much darker. Darker enough that it almost seems like a prime place for jump scares...
Blocking the doorway out of the school were three such statues. One was of a young man with short hair. One was of a young woman in a ballgown with a skirt that alone took up most of the doorway. And one was of a barefoot girl with impossibly long hair that snaked down the hallway, making a tripping hazard all the way between the door and the room Mother Gothel had claimed.
Getting in and out of the school until at least one of the statues was removed was going to be nearly impossible.
The statues in general couldn't be moved or broken in any conventional way, however. But some trial and error... or just happenstance might well provide the answer. If the Misery-called who knew the person the statue represented talked about the person to someone else in front of the statue... That would work. Though what they said would matter.
If they managed to dredge up something to say, some tale or anecdote or comment that was actually positive... the statue would vanish in a haze of black and silver glitter that would spread everywhere in easy reach and defy all attempts to clean it.
However, if the story or comments are negative, or give away some secret that the person the statue is of would not want shared the statue will explode in a shower of stone, one stone of which would hit the Misery-called hard enough to hurt but not to break skin. However where the stone struck the Misery-called would bear a new scar. A small pile of stone would remain where the statue had been, also resting all attempts to move or remove it, causing anyone walking past to have to carefully step over it so as to not trip. Which is not ideal if one is carrying something, or for example, running away from a crazed animatronic.
A week after they appeared any remaining statues would just vanish with another loud and horrifying noise. As would all the scars, all the rubble piles, and all the glitter. In their place where each statue had been would be a small bunch of grapes covered in rock dust. They are extraordinarily sour. In theory edible once the dust is washed off. In practice only the desperate would want to eat them. Whoever does eat them will be plagued by nightmares about whoever the statue had been of, even if they didn't know the person themselves. The nightmares will only happen for one night after eating the grapes, but if someone stretches out the grapes to eat a few every night for a week... that is a week of bad dreams. And also, again, they are sour. The sourest candy in the world isn't half as sour as these grapes.
The statues were of enemies, foes, rivals, anyone that one of the Misery-called might never want to see again. The statues look like rough hewn stone, but any attempts to deal with them the way one might a stone statue would fail. Even moving them would prove impossible, even with team work.
There is one blocking the doorway to every room used as a bedroom currently. A person could get in and out past them if they are small enough, nimble enough, or just don't mind losing a chunk of skin to the rough stone as they scrape past. Those ones would especially be targeted at whoever sleeps there.
But the rest of them will scatter the halls, making them hard to transverse. The majority of them were blocking what little light sources existed in the halls, making the passageways darker than usual. Much darker. Darker enough that it almost seems like a prime place for jump scares...
Blocking the doorway out of the school were three such statues. One was of a young man with short hair. One was of a young woman in a ballgown with a skirt that alone took up most of the doorway. And one was of a barefoot girl with impossibly long hair that snaked down the hallway, making a tripping hazard all the way between the door and the room Mother Gothel had claimed.
Getting in and out of the school until at least one of the statues was removed was going to be nearly impossible.
The statues in general couldn't be moved or broken in any conventional way, however. But some trial and error... or just happenstance might well provide the answer. If the Misery-called who knew the person the statue represented talked about the person to someone else in front of the statue... That would work. Though what they said would matter.
If they managed to dredge up something to say, some tale or anecdote or comment that was actually positive... the statue would vanish in a haze of black and silver glitter that would spread everywhere in easy reach and defy all attempts to clean it.
However, if the story or comments are negative, or give away some secret that the person the statue is of would not want shared the statue will explode in a shower of stone, one stone of which would hit the Misery-called hard enough to hurt but not to break skin. However where the stone struck the Misery-called would bear a new scar. A small pile of stone would remain where the statue had been, also resting all attempts to move or remove it, causing anyone walking past to have to carefully step over it so as to not trip. Which is not ideal if one is carrying something, or for example, running away from a crazed animatronic.
When The Mess Fades - A week later.
A week after they appeared any remaining statues would just vanish with another loud and horrifying noise. As would all the scars, all the rubble piles, and all the glitter. In their place where each statue had been would be a small bunch of grapes covered in rock dust. They are extraordinarily sour. In theory edible once the dust is washed off. In practice only the desperate would want to eat them. Whoever does eat them will be plagued by nightmares about whoever the statue had been of, even if they didn't know the person themselves. The nightmares will only happen for one night after eating the grapes, but if someone stretches out the grapes to eat a few every night for a week... that is a week of bad dreams. And also, again, they are sour. The sourest candy in the world isn't half as sour as these grapes.
Sun/Moon 🌞🌜⭐ OTA
Date: 2025-05-19 06:15 am (UTC)From:The statues related to the jester are... mundane. All adult humans, all in some kind of uniform. Not one of them looks like they'd be some sort of supervillain. Not really. They were just... company workers. People who should've been helping clean up and tend to kids alongside him. Most seemed a bit young. Many of them might've even looked like pleasant enough people. Or at least, benign presences. Maybe their name tags held some clue? ...No, they weren't detailed enough for that....
But more worryingly, Sun was, at first, nowhere to be found. Moon, however, had taken to lurking in one of the darker hallways, mostly silently now, thanks to the jester having gotten the thick oil he'd needed into his joints.
If someone were in the area to cross paths with him, they'd have precious few clues: the very quiet sounds of his movements? Maybe. The soft jingle of the bells on his wrists, the toes of his shoes, and the end of his hat? Perhaps. He was interestingly skilled at moving without sounding them, when he tried. The soft creak of metal -- the tops of the locker banks -- when he stalked low along them? The glow of red from his eyes' lights, as he searched for targets? Probably.
His creepy cackling when he detected someone's presence? Absolutely.
Later....
Specifically, before 24 hours had even passed....
If Moon hadn't been dealt with yet... someone might actually have to go looking for him.
Had Sun's efforts to declutter and generally un-trash the school been enough, that someone could spot the shape that didn't quite belong, hanging down over some lockers, over the heads of the nearby statues? It was a long, narrowing triangle of shiny fabric of some sort, as gray as the stone surrounding them all, but unmarked by paint... and tipped with a large gold bell. A very large gold bell, all things considered... it was nearly two inches across. Just like the bells on Sun's wrists and shoes.
If someone were tall enough to peer over the top of the lockers -- or light enough and thought to climb some nearby statues to help them do so -- they'd find that the thin belled shape was the tail end of Moon's hat. He was curled up there, face-down on his hands, as if using them for a pillow... but interestingly, he wasn't white and blue. Not one yellow star was anywhere to be seen on him. He was gray. A light, half-translucent-on-the-outside whitish gray, all over his shell, with his hat, pants, and ruffles a more middling sort of gray. The ribbons around his wrists were still red, his bells were still gold, his shoes brownish, and perhaps the exposed computer parts on the back of his head could count...? The silver of his metal endoskeleton, the joints between the dull whitish-gray sections of his plates? But no real color.
Nor was he responsive to anything. He wouldn't simply be waking up if disturbed. If someone wanted to drag him down, he'd be limp and malleable... and shockingly lightweight, if they weren't already that familiar with the jester -- he probably only weighed about as much as a child himself, hollow inside and plastic, all length and gangly limbs.