Part 19: Trilby's Notes, Part 2: The Anti-Yossarian
Stop linking to things with spoilers after I asked you to keep this thread easy to read without running into spoilers.
Trilby's Notes, Part 2: The Anti-Yossarian
The first image is just to give an idea of what the room looks like, sorry for the fact that they don't match up. Typing "look" in any of these rooms results in a novella about how things are dark and scary, which I'm omitting because I like to think you have eyes.
At this stage, I was beginning to wonder if this really was all John DeFoe's doing. It didn't seem his style, somehow. But what other evil could possibly be the culprit?
As an employee of an organization specifically devoted to researching occult evil, I was entirely unfamiliar with any other sources of occult evil. Most of the time was just spend in boardrooms discussing funding allocation.
Amazingly, we don't get any forced explanation for why we need to stay in the hotel. Instead, we're free to run away from it forever.
Or not. Notice how this is several thousand times more effective than pretending there's a reason, and how this open hotel seems more confined than the spaceship ever did.
(Pictured: Why I love the text parser)
To the left and up from the lobby is this wonderful bar. If it's any consolation, that's just a giant picture rather than a giant Tall Man staring at you through a window.
That little bit of orange in the counter is a pair of pliers, which we steal.
As before, looking helpfully informs us that a man has been nailed into the wall, but it does so in about fifty words.
The important thing to do here is use the pliers on this not very alive man. This room might seem familiar if you've read the OP, especially because...
As someone pointed out, this Tall Man we keep seeing flashes of bears at least a slight resemblance to the Slender Man, in that both are tall, faceless, slightly deformed, rarely seen for more than a few seconds, scary despite not doing much of anything, likely to cause madness in those who see them, and involved with something that uses the word "Mythos". The people who created SM (both of whom are goons, unsurprisingly) claim that they had no knowledge of the Chzo games, but that may just be an attempt to save face from taking ideas from an adventure game that took its ideas from a game that took (some of) its ideas from Jacob's Ladder.
The gloomy lavatories were in a state of advanced disrepair. One of the cubicle doors was hanging off its hinges, and the mirror above the counter was broken.
Contrary to everything else in the hotel, it was surprisingly clean. Slightly alarmingly, it was addressed to me. Baffled, I took the envelope - it was strangely bulky - and tore it open. A white pill bottle and a note fell out into my hand. I here enclose the note with my report.
Note: Trilby, if you're reading this then you, too, have seen the hotel change. At present I have no idea if the alternative hotel is part of the ethereal realm or some kind of construct, a pocket dimension. There is a definite correlation between one's level of agitation and one's tendency to reality shift. Fear is your enemy. It leaves you shining like a beacon for whatever evil brought us to this place. Do not let it concern you. I an researching the phenomenon. Your task is to find DeFoe. Good luck -Agent Lenkmann.
It quickly took effect. I felt the anxiety lift from the pit of my stomach, and my dismal surroundings seemed to feel less imposing. Then I felt that strange sensation again, of light-headedness and detachment as the world around me began to quiver.
You can close the Tindeck link now. I'll explain the way all of this works from a gameplay perspective next update, but I want it to still be a mystery for now.
Oh, and as you can probably guess, Trilby won't bother asking any questions about any of this in between writing novels about what desks look like.
So, let's go up to that bar now that we don't have a creepy white bag staring at us.
Silent Hill changed to fulfill James' need for punishment, Clanbronwyn changes to reflect Trilby's need to go into space. He's instantly appalled by the poor physics on display.
I can picture Trilby at the 9'30" mark, sweating and getting incredibly frustrated at this door, all while putting on a show of being cool and pretending to himself that, damn it, he does have what it takes to be a thief despite what all the actual thieves say.
I hadn't had cause to crack safes for some time, but my hands instantly went into automatic, the thieving mindset returning like an old friend. When the job was done, and the safe opened, my nostalgia faded into puzzlement when I found it empty.
Nice job following through on that conversation with Lenkmann about not stealing things. Trilby's theft impulses are inversely proportional to how reasonable it would be to steal something under the circumstances. Also, it's empty.
Just for once I'd like to crack a safe that actually contained something. Is that so much to ask?
I know this is meant to be a callback to 5 Days, but the implication that Trilby has, indeed, never successfully cracked a safe in his life is remarkably easy to accept.
I was frankly astonished that Matthew DeFoe's painting had survived the immolation of DeFoe Manor. As I stared at it, it seemed that the surrounding room began to blur until only the painting was in focus. I fancied I could hear the creaks and whispers of DeFoe Manor's hallways. I felt a bizarre urge to reach out and touch the painting.
Cliff's Notes: I touched it. Is it really that hard to get an editor, Yahtzee?
One month after being brutally murdered by his brother, Matthew stared at his easel, not to be moved for another 180 years, and contemplated the value of consistency throughout a series.
Matthew DeFoe is fifteen years old today. He is excitedly putting the finishing touches to a painting which his father has commented on encouragingly, the first time he has ever been supportive of Matthew's artistic leanings. Matthew is now convinced that his father is lifting from the mysterious depression that has plagued him for as long as either can remember. Now he intends to make the painting absolutely perfect before showing it again.
James: Sir Roderick has requested your presence in the trophy room.
Thank you James.
James never appears in this game, only speaking to you through a door, which is the only reason he lacks a portrait. Hell, I even made one for that receptionist who has two whole lines in the game and then dies.
This is my friend Mr. Smyth. He's an expert on African tribal art.
Well, just a scholar. Hardly even that; just someone with an interest in the subject. I wasn't aware you had a family, Sir Roderick. Is your wife home too?
Regrettably, Belinda is no longer with us.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Quite alright, you couldn't have known. She succumbed to illness shortly after Matthew was born.
I've finished the painting I showed you, father.
Oh, good. Well, Mr. Smyth, what do you think of the piece?
The design is reminiscent of a few central African tribal gods I'm aware of, but to be honest I've never seen anything like this before. May I ask how you acquired it?
I'm glad you asked. It was twenty years ago, when I was a younger man, on my first travels in the Dark Continent. We were traveling along the west coast when our bearers spotted a ship that had run aground. It was an English clipper, named the Sea Angel, and a short exploration revealed that every single crewman had just disappeared. But the point is, it was on the lowest deck of the ship that I found this very figurine you see before you today.
What an extraordinary tale, but how do you account for there being an African tribal carving on a British vessel?
We were as confused as you are. It wasn't a slave trading vessel, but there must have been a negro on the crew. It has been a personal mystery of mine ever since. I was hoping you could shed a little light on the matter. But there is more to tell. I haven't even begun to recount the strange events that have surrounded this artifact. Would you care for a glass of brandy?
I wish to thank Yahtzee for not falling into the trap of fitting 21st century political correctness to 19th century dialogue. You don't often get that from desert penal colonists.
Thank you, that would be most kind.
Matthew, fetch the brandy from the kitchen. And some glasses.
You can also see the apron, which is justified due to this being a kitchen, and the mask, because Yahtzee already designed the villain and couldn't very easily retcon that.
This happens when you try opening the inventory. Knowing Matthew's inner dialogue and deepest fears is reasonable, but knowing that he has keys in his pocket? I think we're expecting a bit much.
Hello. You haven't tried to speak to me in a while. (Bang bang) I showed it to father, and he said it was promising. I keep trying to tell him about you, but he never listens. You haven't knocked for me in so long I was beginning to wonder. (Bang bang) I'm just not sure how I'd get it through the door.
I'm sure you'll appreciate this, friend who bangs on walls and never replies. You're my favorite person to talk to.
Father, what happened? I heard shouting.
Told me some rubbish about my figurine. Said the only tribe it could have come from all died in slavery years ago. Actually had the nerve to accuse me of buying from a forger.
I'll... I'll go back to my room, father.
Show me your painting.
You said you had a painting. Show it to me.
I... I can't, father.
Come on, why not? Out with it!
Because... I gave it to the boy behind the door.
There's a very unsettling pause before this line shows up. Really, despite all the flayed corpses and creepy whispering, this is probably the scariest part of the game, because we know exactly what's coming but [Describe the plot of Rear Window here].
I see. Go back to your room, boy. I have to write my diary entry.
I'll date it a month ago to throw off anybody who reads it later.
After 59 minutes of staring out over the family not-ravine, he had only been moderately curious, but suddenly it reached levels of concern.
Strangely, the most disturbing thing had been Sir Roderick's reaction to Matthew mentioning the boy behind the door. In the past, mentioning this had usually provoked a violent rage or an instant flat denial. Matthew wondered what sort of anxiety was going through his father's mind.
Matthew was confused by his own reluctance. He had longed to see what was beyond this door his entire life, but now, given the chance, he was struck with fear. He peered cautiously through, and saw a set of rough stone steps leading down to some kind of basement.
Currently, the residents of this house are a retarded killer child, a young boy who cannot connect dots and likes talking to bangs against the wall, and an explorer who thinks the best way to kill someone who's locked up is to let them out of their shackles with the door open.
DeFoe Manor: Keeping out the Competent Since 1821.
May God forgive me for having a part in your creation.
Father? What are you doing?
Do you see what you've done? DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?
My apologies, dear boy, but I couldn't resist. You looked so lost in that painting I don't think you even saw me come in.
What? I... what?
Is everything alright, Terry?
It's just for a moment there I saw... never mind.
Siobhan and I were talking about you after you ran out of the room. I said you seemed like something was making you terribly anxious. Frankly, I think that's still the case.
I had seen the events that had created John DeFoe. I saw his death at the hands of Sir Roderick, that terrible violent end that would bring him back as that awful wraith. But somehow, seeing that event, it was clear to me that there was more to this than the ghost of one retarded youth. There had been something very wrong about that idol, even before it was used to destroy John DeFoe. I now had a lead.
Having an absurdly psychic protagonist sure does make writing exposition a lot easier.
Professor, do you know anything about a ship called the Sea Angel?
[Words about a chisel with the name on it on display]
Next time, we find a chisel with the name "Sea Angel" on it. This chisel is on display. We'll also read the note on the painting, but this update is long enough as is.
Hey kids! Besides the monochrome thing, can you spot all the ways the 1821 DeFoe Manor room backgrounds are different to their modern-day 5 Days equivalents? Things sure do change a lot in 180 years.