The storm has calmed, and the clouds are already breaking apart. And, well, as much as many of you may no longer be in the mood for a resort, it is, in fact, still open for all your "Aw, fuck it, I want a fancy hottub bath" needs.

Tristan tells you all as much, as he all but pushes everyone out of his house. "I'll be with you once I've cleaned up here," he says. "We'll discuss your payment options and . . . whatever else, then. But get some rest, or try to . . . I don't know. Do your thing for now."

[Various NPCs can still be found around the place to chat with about whatever you like! In the mid-afternoon, the summoning will "run out" and you will find yourselves back where you came from with no memory of these events—until next time!]

[Thread or backthread forever as long as you want! And thank you for playing! As always, we had a blast ♥]
Tristan closes the book, and the room around you all seems to shift, turning back into the actual real library -- though the tesla coil item seems to have come with you all as well.

Outside, you can see through the windows, a vicious storm is hammering down, raindrops hitting the glass nearly hard enough to break it. The whole room shudders with an enormous peal of thunder.

"As you can see," Tristan says, voice still oddly flat, "we are not yet at the end of our problems. In fact, I would say that they've only just started."

The entrance to the rift is in a library. Of course it would be something like that. There is straight-up a secret passageway behind a bookshelf. Tristan just shrugs and grins.

It looks like you're just crossing over into another part of the room, lined with more bookshelves, but something about crossing the threshold feels . . . wrong. An invisible crackling of power in the air, like walking through an invisible curtain. And as soon as you've stepped over, you can no longer see the room behind you.

It looks like you'll have to work to make your way back out again . . . .
When you return to Tristan's mansion well after dark, the butler leads you upstairs into a sitting room. There is tea and coffee on the table, as well as light snacks.

Tristan himself is nowhere to be seen, but is probably waiting to make a dramatic entrance once everyone has been gathered together. In the meantime, you have some time to stretch out your legs and swap stories about your day.

There are still some hours left until it's time to head back to meet up with Tristan and Elluka. The sun will be setting soon, but the island is brightly-lit, and there is a lot to do, and plenty of people to talk to, if you're so inclined.

Of course, if you're just interested in desserts and swimming pools, that's a totally legitimate course of action as well.

[We'll be putting up subheaders for different areas! You can wander from place to place, meet up with other people, talk to NPCs, or do your own thing.]

After speaking with Tristan, you have the rest of the afternoon and evening to explore Ariel Island, with plans to meet up again after midnight. You each have a gold card that acts as a credit card for unlimited access to services like food, internet, pool, and spa amenities. Each has a number and also acts as a key to your hotel room. No dice trying to buy Tristan into debt, though—the card only works for stuff on the island. You can pick up prepaid cellphones at the front desk, though, and there are gift boutiques to buy a change of clothes for those in winter garb.

And apparently the restaurant has a really fabulous dessert.

[Intermission until tomorrow! ♥ Some of the NPCs will be around, but this is thread-amongst-yourselves until tomorrow around 1 or 2PST, when we'll pick up with new NPCs/shopkeepers/etc that you can actually interact with. Until then just assume that anything here is fair game minus the curiosity museum & guided tours. Go on dates.]

A young butler with two long blond braids and a snappy suit greets you at the door to the D'Angelo mansion. She ushers you inside and up an elaborate curved staircase. Surprisingly, the decor isn't that terribly gauche—it's neat and tidy but not empty, with art on the walls and books on the sidetables. Most of the furniture is rich wood, and all of the furniture you see seems extremely comfortable and well-used.

You're led into a study. The butler stops by the door, holding it open with one gloved hand.

"Please make yourselves comfortable," she says. "Master D'Angelo will be with you shortly."

Indeed, once the butler closes the door behind you, a door on the other side of the room opens, and you hear someone laugh.

It's . . . maybe kinda familiar.

High up on the cliffs overlooking the ocean, there is a sizeable gazebo—big enough for some twenty people or more—amidst a well-kept flower garden. There is a bench running all along the inside, as well as a table and chairs—and as the group from the beach approach, it's clear that the gazebo is already occupied, with some possibly familiar faces.
It's a beautiful day in Virginia Beach, which is where your plane takes you. You have an itinerary with directions to a private ferry terminal, a quite luxurious to-do that takes you out onto the Atlantic. They say it's to be an hour long trip out to Ariel Island, so you have some time to wander around the boat (not terribly exciting) or see if there are any familiar faces on board . . .

[Itachi, Kazuki, Shuri & Robin start here ♥]

The place you wake up is, for once, not a dark and gloomy basement.

It's a beach, overlooking a vivid, calm ocean. The sky above is bright blue and dotted with fluffy clouds, and some ways away, you can see what appears to be an elaborate hotel and resort town.

There are a dozen or so other people around you—some you might recognize, some you definitely don't. The only person standing up is a dark-haired stranger (or not), in their late teens or early twenties, incredibly overdressed in the heat, wearing a flannel shirt and a dark trenchcoat and holding a black lacy parasol over their head.

"Hi . . ." they say awkwardly. "Don't scream or anything."

[please join #deadgaysatanists! If you are a live-in Demonverser you start here]