House Log 001: Find me way out there; there's no road that will lead us back

[payingfordeliverance]

Who: The Pandoras + various assorted acquaintances, perhaps
What: Catchall log for the PH cast, for our various non-event needs!
When: October + November
Where: Pandora House, which needs a cooler name, and perhaps elsewhere

Content Warnings: No specifics as of yet but there will probably be ghosts, PTSD, depression and grief, and also literally everyone in this cast is dead oops.

Comments

[greatestfall]

The clattering at the counter stops for a very potent moment while Elliot tries to sort out the answer to that question. Tries to decide how much he wants to say.

"Trouble sleeping. The house is playing its tricks."

And then, as he returns his gaze to Sheryl, regarding the apparition with more suspicion now than apprehension:

"You?"

[payingfordeliverance]

"Something like that."

It's not anything the house is doing that's troubling him now. This isn't the first time he's had a night like this, where he can't slow his thoughts down or breathe properly or relax his shoulders, and it certainly won't be the last. And, just now, it's too early in the month for him to realize that the influence of Trench itself is making it worse for him when he otherwise might have sorted himself out tonight. After all, these worries have been on his mind a few weeks now, and with the stress of realizing how badly this place may treat them all, of course it would all come together in an explosion like so.

Sheryl sits serene and dead, her placid smile frozen on her face.

"One of those tins is chamomile," he offers, correctly interpreting the noises Elliot is making. "Second from the left."