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Autumn Smith had not posted on Instagram for days. For ordinary people, this would not have been an alarming fact. However, for those who knew the aspiring stylist, this was well and truly world ending. No selfies, no updates. Absolute radio silence. Equally concerning was that, for those days, the usually dutiful employee had missed shifts at both of her jobs. There wasn’t a sign of her anywhere.

At the end of a week, the police turned up. She wasn’t a partier, she didn’t start trouble. The tip to the station had simply been one of worry. Make sure Autumn is okay, please. With everything that’s happened…

When they broke into her apartment, it was empty. The cat was thankfully well-fed, having one of those nifty automated feeders. Further investigation showed the bed was left made, clothes were in the hamper, and everything was in place.

Except the kitchen, anyway.

Reports detailed a choking, rotten stench as soon as they entered the little kitchen. Meat of indeterminable type was left on the cutting board, shriveled and rotten away. Flies had seized control of the small kitchen, making homes in whatever hovel they could find. Curiouser still were two things:

One, there was a carving knife driven into the wall. Whatever her damage deposit had been, Autumn wasn’t getting it back. (There was also, notably, a distinct lack of blood. At the very least, she wasn’t dead.)

Two, there seemed to be scratches around the wood, with brightly colored false nails scattered about. Definitely human, definitely unwilling. Wherever Autumn Smith had gone, she hadn’t gone without a fight.

It didn’t match the earlier disappearances. No personality change, hadn’t gone willingly. The police, of course, were dutifully looking into where Autumn had disappeared. Their search, unfortunately, would prove fruitless.

To those who had met her several weeks ago, there was a PRETTY REASONABLE SUSPICION about a PLACE SHE MIGHT HAVE GONE.

It was time to go back to Other Ashdown.

--

You arrive, somehow, in Other Ashdown. The city is covered in a fine misty rain, which isn’t surprising- not for those who have been before. There is still a lingering sense of dread, as well as the distinct feeling you aren’t meant to be there. Fortunately, there won’t be a lot of wandering- whatever powers that be seem inclined to guide you to the beach. When you arrive, everything seems typical in that this place still creeps you out.

That is, except for the house.

Tucked along the corner of the beach is a house. Sunny’s house, for those familiar with it in the real world. But here, it appears as a warm and inviting mansion. Lively music flows out from its walls, and you can’t help but feel this is where you’re meant to be.

When the group is assembled, they may head inside.


(( PROMPT: Your dreamer/riser/beyond gets wind of the disappearance... somehow. Something beyond their power wills them to go investigate. However you wind up getting here, you're here. This prompt will be open for 24 hours to allow a full group to assemble and make preparations to go inside! After that, the TRUE EVENT will begin! ))

It was wrong.

Thorne couldn't remember the path he'd taken that had led here, or why his back was suddenly crawling and everything in him was screaming that he was not where he should have been. He'd been chasing Millie again. She'd snuck out between his feet when he'd opened the door, and he'd spent an hour out in the half-remembered streets of Ashdown looking for the curve of her tail around the corner, listening for the bell that rang around her neck.

In the back of his mind, he'd been thinking of something else though. The evening news. Disappearances. Headlines that made sense but scratched at him strangely. Headlines that spoke of something other about Ashdown. Something not quite right.

Thornes boots hit the sand of the beach, and his mind jarred with anxiety and fear. This wasn't right. His eyes cut everywhere, drinking in the scenery, looking for a way to backtrack. He must have lost track of his own path in a desperate attempt to find Millie's. Faint music trickled into his conscious, and a whisper ran through him. This is right, it said. But everything in him rebelled, violent at the thought.

A long string of violent swears in another language - Korean? - made him look at the only other person there.

Anxiety lept at him, teeth bared, and Thorne was on the verge of simply quitting. But the tremor in his bones wouldn't go away, and his feet felt like lead. He called out to the other, his voice brittle and raw and sharp.

"Hey." He paused, trying to gather a fractured litany of sane thoughts beneath the instinct telling him to run - to stay - to - what?

"Where - is this?"

Meeting to try and explain to Temperance who Autumn was, and why he was concerned, that had been the original intent, just a walk so they could talk and not stand in one place while sounding crazy to one person for too long.
Actually stepping -into- Ashdown hadn’t quite… totally been in the front of his mind. It was too mean to Temperance even if he -was- compulsively carrying at least a minor “Other” kit just in case.

He half suspected it -was- his fault, somehow… he suspected most things were his fault.

Stepping through a door, and…

Into the rain and the drizzle and unsettling… weirdness that was Other Ashdown.
“…Shhhiiiit.”

He said and rummaged in his bag for his umbrella.

“… well, so… yes… so, I was going to say, Autumn is probably here, but um… yeah, how do you feel abut looking?”

Other Ashdown did not scare her much anymore. That was probably a terrible thing, but it was easier to feel like she fit in when magic and talking creatures were involved. It was easier to believe she mattered in a place where impossible things could happen. The Unspoken's question still lingered in her mind. Why fear invisible wounds instead of a giant owl made of the night sky?

There was no 'good' answer for that.

Yet today she did not enter Other Ashdown with a personal purpose. Today she was drawn by something far stronger - one of their own missing. She'd only met Autumn briefly the first time they'd found themselves in this place, but as another with magic... she felt compelled to help. To make herself matter, to try as the Unspoken had asked of her.

The beach house felt more inviting than the entire of Other Ashdown, and she was meant to be here. (It helped to rationalize everything if she didn't think about the sudo lack of free will and just... accepted everything as it came.) Erin stepped up to the small gathering, glancing around.

"Here's hoping she's not strung up like a pinata," said the young woman, attempting (and probably failing) to bring a light heartedness to the group.

Probably failing.

Temperance trailed along behind Zac, nodding absently. To be honest, quite a lot of it zoomed right over her head, but it seemed important to Zac and he was nice. She was curious about this weird, other Ashdown, but everything was just so new. What she gathered was that someone was in trouble and they, by benefit of being able to pass through Ashdown, could help. She supposed that was enough. It certainly brought something new to her boring life.

However, she hadn't expected to actually go into the weird parallel Ashdown. She frowned at the drizzle, feeling much less apprehensive with someone else there. "I suppose I shouldn't scream this time," she said dryly. Temperance tried to duck awkwardly under his umbrella.

"Since we're here, I don't see a reason why not."

Chris gave another glance around, realizing that he had completely missed a pair that were already there. He immediately recognized the detective and giving a glance over at Erin and the other guy, he figured they were safe before he jogged over.

He took a long glance at the house before finally looking back at the detective and, in lieu of a hello, simply stated "Autumn's done something again, hasn't she."

He had, of course, figured but something about Jeremiah made him want to confirm. He had, Chris knew, dealt with her misadventures more than Chris himself had.

azuredreams

im so sorry about chris

Algie gave Chris a deadpan stare. Nothing personal. He was just very cranky.

The professor was beginning to think all of this was getting very inconvenient. Especially since they were being dragged and drawn to the otherworld on a weekly basis at this point and for all Sunny's warnings he'd been hoping to lay off the vicious quest for secrets for a while.

Finding them in front of the house which he knew had been the one Zac had visited in their world. The one containing the paintings by the painter he was warned against seeking. To be drawn to the last place he wanted to be right now made Algie very unhappy. He knew that Autumn was in danger but she also seemed to be in danger fairly often considering she befriended deer monsters and very recently was put into the hospital by some other supernatural being.

More reason to avoid this place for a while. The only thing here that had ever made sense was Heliodora.

He peered past Chris at more approaching figures but said nothing.

"I doubt very seriously she has. If she had, we would have heard from her." Jeremiah glanced over to Algie. The two were side by side, their stares equally ornery and cranky. His eyes looked past Chris a moment to the others gathered before he merely let out a huff of breath.

"All I can tell you is that she went fighting. Whatever got it's hands on her." A flick of a hand towards the house. "... and that place has me on high alert." Whatever preternatural sense of danger he had? It was not having it.