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The May evening air drags the heavy scent of honeysuckle through the open windows. You're the last one standing on the dance floor. "This party is dead" may be a common turn of phrase, but you've never seen it become [[quite so literal|title]].<span class="title">[[hideous, fabulous|mise en place]]</span> [[credits]] | [[content notes]]Written by Lionstooth in Twine (SugarCube 2.37.3) for ShuffleComp 2024. Songs used as inspiration: Scattered Pearls - Casiotone for the Painfully Alone Sugar Water Cyanide - Rebecca Black Candelabra Cadaver - The Slow Poisoner Frankenstein - Rina Sawayama Images sourced from Pexels: <a href="https://www.pexels.com/photo/beaded-gray-necklace-908183/">Background image</a> by Khairul Onggon <a href="https://www.pexels.com/photo/table-set-for-a-romantic-dinner-10391142/">Unmodified version of cover image</a> by Valeriya Kobzar Thanks to <a href="https://gcbaccaris.itch.io">Grim Baccaris</a> for the invaluable Twine Grimoire, and to you for playing. I didn't end up having time to send this to any testers before the deadline, because of who I am as a person. Please report any bugs to itslionstooth@gmail.com. [[Back to title screen|title]]This game contains: lots and lots of death/murder: <span class="more"><<linkreplace "click for specifics">>poisoning, implied engineered mass casualty event for profit, death by burning<</linkreplace>></span> some suggestive content: <span class="more"><<linkreplace "click for specifics">>being scantily clad for funsies, NPC making nonspecific horny/harassing comments to others, Viagra reference<</linkreplace>></span> alcohol use But really, mostly the dead bodies everywhere. [[Back to title screen|title]]<<set $pearls = 0>> <<set $pearl1Visited to false>> <<set $pearl2Visited to false>> <<set $pearl3Visited to false>> <<set $pearl4Visited to false>> <<set $pearl5Visited to false>> <<set $pearl6Visited to false>> <<set $pearl7Visited to false>>You are wearing: <span class="cycle"><<cycle "$outfit">> <<option "An exactingly tailored suit in green velvet, meticulous and commanding.">> <<option "A lavish ballgown, bodice armored with semiprecious stones.">> <<option "A jester costume, to speak truth to power.">> <<option "An owl mask, a feathered cloak, head on a swivel.">> <<option "Next to nothing, to be honest. You never understood how imagining //other// people in their underwear was supposed to give you the upper hand in confidence.">> <</cycle>></span> But the pièce de résistance, in your opinion, <<linkreplace "is">>was a strand of perfectly formed pearls, rose-tinted and heavy with memory. Your hostess for tonight was stroking them and cooing praise, fingers tangling in them with thoughtless envy, when she was struck by the first convulsion. She snapped the filament as she fell, scattering pearls across the [[ballroom]].<</linkreplace>>Two large crystalline bowls of punch rest on the table. Both alcoholic and non-alcoholic variants of the recipe have been thoughtfully provided. They smell sickly sweet, mostly like sugar. Orgeat covers a multitude of sins, though. When the host ladled the drinks into the waiting cups, he managed not to spill a single drop on the tablecl<<nobr>><<if $pearl6Visited is false>><span class="pearl">[[o|pearl6]]</span><<else>>o<</if>><</nobr>>th. A perfectionist. A demanding man. You, of course, have your own idiosyncrasies. You only drink water. If people here noticed, they didn't think to ask. [[Back|ballroom]]This was meant to be a quiet affair, a little gathering for a few friends, most of whom have just profited handsomely off of current events. No press. It would be... unseemly, given the reason for the celebration. No guards, either. Only a mansion half an hour from the city, a pianist, and several unobtrusive catering staff who came <span class="more"><<linkappend "highly recommended">> (by you)<</linkappend>></span>. As a result, there were <span class="more"><<linkprepend "no witnesses">>almost <</linkprepend>></span> to the fall of nearly two dozen of the nation's movers and shakers, dead in minutes with no advance warning. Now that everything is still, you've returned to the [[hostess|pearlclutcher]], who lies at your feet. The [[dance floor|floor]] around you is littered with bodies. There is a [[baby grand piano|piano]] by the [[windows|window]], though the music has fallen silent. On the opposite end of the room, a [[large table|banquet]] is laden with delicacies. Just a bit of finger food to set the mood. Next to that is a [[drinks table|punch]] with two large punch bowls. The [[host|creep]] fell near it, as you might have expected. <<nobr>><<if $pearls == 0>> You'll miss those pearls, but you should get out quickly. <<elseif $pearls lte 3>> You shouldn't linger too much longer. <<elseif $pearls lte 6>> You really should leave soon. <<else>> You sense red and blue flashing out of the corner of your eye. You need to get out now.<</if>><</nobr>> Head for the [[door]]. This is enough to hold on to. <<nobr>><<if $pearls ==1>>A small pendant, maybe.<<elseif $pearls == 2>>A set of earrings, perhaps.<<else>>A set of earrings, a small pendant.<</if>><</nobr>> When you make it to the getaway car, the engine is already running. The driver hisses with impatience as you clamber in. Becky ignores him, simply commanding, “Hit it. Let’s ride.” You palm your salvaged pearls back and forth as you remove your gloves, but you still catch the others stealing glances. One of the guys mutters, “Couldn’t resist, huh?” The escape should still go off as planned. Maybe. Whether you can be saved from yourself, only time will tell. <<link "restart">> <<run UI.restart()>> <</link>>You shouldn’t have dawdled. By the time you make it to the prearranged point, the van is gone. It’s going to be impossible to get somewhere safe without attracting too much attention in this outfit. As you try to formulate a new escape plan, you roll the pearls in your palm anxiously, focusing your attention on the small points of pressure. You’re not as different from the corpses behind you as you’d like to believe. <<link "restart">> <<run UI.restart()>> <</link>>When the other partygoers started swooning, wheezing, collapsing, you assured them you were calling 911 and help was on the way. Everyone else was too panicked or already suffering too much to do it. <<timed 3s t8n>>Or to check that you were. <<next>>You saw them falling, begging some unseen and uncaring <<nobr>><span class="cycle"><<cycle "$mercy">> <<option "god">> <<option "person">> <<option "board of directors">> <</cycle>></span><</nobr>> for mercy, and your disgust collected all at once around the irritation in your heart that you’d been carefully ignoring. <<next>>You watched them die. <<next>>You despise these monsters. You’re one of them. Glittering on the outside, hollow within. <<next>>You liked to tell yourself you weren’t anymore, but you still showed up to this sickening revel. You ate the food, laughed at the right times, listened to the toast. You picked over and around the bodies of the stricken without a second thought. <<next>>All this is to say: someone else must have called these cops and these ambulances. And you’re conveniently the only survivor in a room full of respected, wealthy people who have just been poisoned – standing here all too calmly with a handful of pearls. <<next>>You are complicit somehow, but in which way? Do even you know at this point? <<next>><<nobr>> <<link "restart">> <<run UI.restart()>> <</link>><</nobr>> <</timed>><<nobr>><<if $pearls == 0>> Yes. [[Stick to the plan.|sweet escape]] <<elseif $pearls lte 3>> Enough. [[They're waiting for you.|bittersweet escape]] <<elseif $pearls lte 6>> Did you have to spend [[all that time searching?|sour escape]] <<else>> But you're already [[surrounded]]. <</if>><</nobr>>All of the finest nibbles <span class="more"><<linkreplace "blood">>money<</linkreplace>></span> can buy. You see jamón ibérico, Époisses De Bourgogne, caviar on toast points, devils on horseback, angel food cakelets, <<nobr>><<if $pearl5Visited is false>><span class="pearl">[[o|pearl5]]</span><<else>>o<</if>><</nobr>>ysters on ice, shrimp and crab cocktail, caviar on scallops, Kalamata olives, Wagyu beef bites, croquettes, vol-au-vents, caviar on deviled eggs, tiny crostini, tiny tarts, tiny quiches... Most of it untouched. [[Back|ballroom]]<<nobr>><<set $pearl1Visited to true>><<set $pearls to $pearls + 1>><</nobr>>The pearl lies just inches from her parted lips, as if she'd been choking and someone had managed to dislodge it from her throat with a swift manuever. Not soon enough, if her vacant eyes and cherry-flushed skin are anything to go by. You pluck it off the tile and stand up to [[look around you|ballroom]].<<nobr>><<set $pearl2Visited to true>><<set $pearls to $pearls + 1>><</nobr>>Who does this guy think he's kidding, anyway? The pretense of being one of the humble masses is almost worse. As if that sweatshirt hadn't cost triple-digits. On the bright side, the pinkish pearl stands out against the studiously neutral black fabric. You nudge it gingerly away from his sleeve like he'll stir and swat you away. [[Back|ballroom]] <<nobr>><<set $pearl3Visited to true>><<set $pearls to $pearls + 1>><</nobr>>The pearl is nestled against a D♭ key - or is it a C♯? You try to coax it away as quietly as possible, as if anyone in this room could still hear you, but the D key beneath your finger rings out pianissimo through the hush. [[Back|ballroom]]<<nobr>><<set $pearl4Visited to true>><<set $pearls to $pearls + 1>><</nobr>>It's a stroke of luck that she didn't break this when she dropped it. No shards of glass, and not a drop of punch lying nearby. (She must have drained it quickly, and who can blame her with friends like these?) You don't need anything going into your bloodstream, or anything coming out of it to be left at the scene. You scoop the pearl with a gloved hand to be safe. [[Back|ballroom]]<<nobr>><<set $pearl5Visited to true>><<set $pearls to $pearls + 1>><</nobr>>Isn't it ironic? Well, no, it's exactly what you'd expect, right? You wipe the pearl carelessly on your clothing. As an afterthought, you grab the oyster, tug it loose with a tiny fork, and tip it into your mouth. A rush of brine and sweetness. The "months with R" rule is for those who can't afford the best. [[Back|ballroom]]<<nobr>><<set $pearl6Visited to true>><<set $pearls to $pearls + 1>><</nobr>>Lucky for you it didn't fall in the punch bowl. That would have been a lost cause, to say the least. You swipe the pearl off the side of the table into your cupped hand. [[Back|ballroom]]<<nobr>><<set $pearl7Visited to true>><<set $pearls to $pearls + 1>><</nobr>>How did it end up here? Unlike his waifish wife, he was one of the last to keel over, barking orders and reassurances from his post until close to the end. So why is this pearl resting on his solar plexus? Maybe it fell from somewhere higher. Maybe he clutched it in his dying moments, pressing it to himself like a forgotten (or debunked) cure. Maybe he thought it could save him, absolve him. It didn't, and it won't save you either, but you take it back anyway. [[Back|ballroom]]Your ever-gracious host had spent the early part of the evening milling throughout the crowd, with a friendly word for everyone. Often //very// friendly, to the point of innuendo. It wasn't restricted to his friends or acquaintances, either. His compliments for Becky as she helped bring in the catering trays were laden with subtext. You have to wonder if he was desperately trying not to waste a dose of anticipatory sildenafil, wondering who (if not his wife) he could convince to slip away to another room in the house. As soon as the punch bowls were carried in, though, he took his position by them. Two of his well-known quirks as a host were that he always insisted on serving his guest's drinks himself and he always called for a toast, with everyone taking their first drink simultaneously. Another established truth was that what he wanted, he got. Sometimes predictability is an advantage, though the question is always for whom. Tonight, he had the nerve to raise his goblet to the room and sheepishly toast "to foresight." You could have spit in his face. Acting like this was a room of Nostradamuses, predicting a <span class="more"><<linkappend "mystical event.">> The casualties, the surging stock prices. Such fortunate timing.<</linkappend>></span> He died on his back, gazing at or through the ceiling, hands now loosely cradling his st<<nobr>><<if $pearl7Visited is false>><span class="pearl">[[o|pearl7]]</span><<else>>o<</if>><</nobr>>mach. He certainly didn't see //this// coming. [[Back|ballroom]] She'd been looking a bit woozy, but she still beamed as she fawned over the necklace. In truth, you couldn't tell if her admiration was sincere. Of course she could afford this, and finer. "I've been looking for one in this color," she giggled, leaning further into your personal space than you would have expected her to. She lowered her voice confidentially, looking around with the characteristic expression of //I shouldn't be saying this//: "Well, I've certainly got extra cash to burn after this, don't I?" Among other <<nobr>><span class="more"><<cycle "$resources" once>> <<option "resources" 0>> <<option "human resources" 1>> <<option "human resources (274 of them)" 2>> <<option "human resources (274 of them, some literally burnt)" 3>> <</cycle>></span><</nobr>>. She'll never so much as window-shop again. Her eyes bulge with what you might mistake for envy. Her m<<nobr>><<if $pearl1Visited is false>><span class="pearl">[[o|pearl1]]</span><<else>>o<</if>><</nobr>>uth hangs open and says as much nothing as ever. Her hands reach out; for what, you don't know. [[Take a step back.|ballroom]] The pianist is sprawled across the keyb<<nobr>><<if $pearl3Visited is false>><span class="pearl">[[o|pearl3]]</span><<else>>o<</if>><</nobr>>ard, arm flung dramatically toward the candelabra on the piano's <span class="more"><<linkappend "lid.">>(Of course the lid is closed. There are too many decorations and trinkets to display on it. Did you think the music was the focus of this party?)<</linkappend>></span> His mouth gapes as if you'd caught him mid-verse, singing along. He was explicitly told the punch was for the guests only. Poor bastard. [[Back|ballroom]] <<if $pearls lte 6>>The large French windows are open to the oncoming night. There's still a trace of red in the sky to the west. Not exactly an all-night rager, this one. No one will start wondering about whereabouts for hours yet. In the foliage below, you can just barely spy a flashlight and mirror, tossed out the window in some great hurry. [[Back|ballroom]]<<else>>The police cars must have hushed their sirens far down the road, but the lights are much easier to see from this angle, creeping up the darkened drive. (so many of them) [[You scramble out the window.|door]]<</if>>So many people draped across chairs, a sofa pushed up against the wall, and (mostly) the open expanse of floor in the center of the room. You could almost imagine it was an impromptu slumber party, if not for the presence of blotched faces and contorted poses. They're all dressed to the nines, or at least their respective versions of it. This means they've fallen in everything from tuxedos to the techbro "ho<<nobr>><<if $pearl2Visited is false>><span class="pearl">[[o|pearl2]]</span><<else>>o<</if>><</nobr>>die and jeans" uniform, simple jumpsuits to elaborate couture confections. All the beautiful people, at least in one sense. The possessions they've dropped around them makes it look like a strong wind tore into the room and knocked them over: clutches, car keys. g<<nobr>><<if $pearl4Visited is false>><span class="pearl">[[o|pearl4]]</span><<else>>o<</if>><</nobr>>blets, snack plates, earrings, wallets, forks, notebooks, even a ring of charms: a shamrock, a tiny horseshoe. [[Take a step back.|ballroom]] The pearls were fake anyway. You used to rub them against your teeth in absent-minded moments. They were smooth as an excuse, as a rationalization. You rush out of the mansion and to the set rendezvous point, where the van is waiting. Becky pulls you in, smooths your clothing, takes your gloves and shoves them into the weighted bag that will be thrown off the bridge a few minutes away. As the driver maneuvers the van onto a back road, the other four of you sit in silence for a moment, both stunned and oddly exhilarated. There can be no justice for the faceless dead, not really – not when the dead you left in the ballroom behind you will be eulogized as pillars of society for years to come – but it feels for a moment as if the scales have tipped closer to a balancing point. Becky turns to you. She seems to be reading your face for relief or regret. “We couldn’t have done this without you. I hope you know you’ve done the right thing.” You don’t feel proud, exactly. You can’t stop thinking about all the privileges and twists of fate that led to you being invited to that gathering in the first place. You know it <<nobr>><span class="cycle"><<cycle "$couldshould" once>> <<option "could" 0>> <<option "should" 1>> <<option "could" 2>> <</cycle>></span><</nobr>> have been you with cyanide on your breath. You take a deep, shaky breath and imagine yourself strung back together with needle and thread. <<link "restart">> <<run UI.restart()>> <</link>>