They're creepy and they're kooky

[homicidium]

Who| Wednesday, her parents, and you can feel free to jump in
What| 4th Wall dreamin'
Where| in Wednesday's braaaaaaaiiiiiiinnnn
When| Days 1/2/3 of the event
Warnings/Notes| Addamses are weird. Feel free to request a parent if you prefer. Gomez loves to challenge strangers to a good fencing match.

Day One
Wednesday wakes up, and her room is as bright as it always it, leaving her to scowl and yank the curtains closed and turn the light off before she actually gets dressed and leaves the Suite. She really only ever stays for breakfast when Jason is around, and he doesn't appear to be.

She goes to the lobby, headed to the restaurant that she can still afford but most Tributes can't anymore. They make a decent enough bowl of porridge for her to stomach, and it's better than the disgusting sweets that make up most of the rest of the Capitolites' breakfasts.

When she steps out of the elevator, however, she stops cold, stares at one of the clusters of chairs. The hustle and bustle of the lobby is bright and colorful, and they stand out precisely because they aren't those things.

"Mother! Father!" Wednesday breaks into a run.

Day Two
The Addams mansion is a huge, condemned house, with more rooms than it should logically contain. It's filled with booby traps and hidden passageways and more secrets than most people can learn in their lifetimes. The land around the house is mostly dead, barren dirt instead of grass, bare-branched trees, with the only exception being some marshes around the swamp. In the backyard, there's a cemetery filled with graves, huge statues and monuments to dead(ish) Addams family members, and mausoleums.

It's home, and Wednesday can be found happily milling around the property, visiting pets and deceased family spirits, playing with weapons. Holding a decapitated doll.

Day Three
Paradise is dark and spooky and quiet except for the occasional owl hoot or cricket chirping. It's another cemetery, just as filled as the one at her home, but this one fills her with a distinct satisfaction -- these are her victims. Trees blow in the wind and Wednesday sits in the moonlight, in a gazebo, looking out over the headstones and memorial statues.

Comments

Day 2 -- Any and all Addamses would be awesome!

[glowygreendeath]

Ermac finds himself wandering in an overgrown cemetery full of graves that seem to have been recently disturbed despite the age of many of the headstones. He's been in many ancient cemeteries before, some of which he could claim a few graves in, but he's never seen one with such blatantly macabre monuments before. People usually wanted peaceful images and thoughtful epitaphs on their loved one's markers, but these seemed to delight in the bizarre lifestyles and unfortunate ends of the graves' occupants.

When he hears someone else walking among the graves, he looks toward them. Between his glowing eyes and the fact that his feet aren't quite touching the ground, he looks a lot like ghost risen from one of the graves.

[morticium]

Morticia is even more, if possible, at peace among the cemetery than she is in the Addams family house. She walks among the headstones, a mild smile on her face, checking on all the relatives and stopping to chat with the occasional spirit or particularly talkative spider colony. She passes by the statue of Gregory Addams (died on the rack during the Inquisition after being stretched to twice his normal height) and pauses upon seeing an unfamiliar supernatural force walking towards her.

"Oh. Have you lost your way? Wayward spirits are welcome to rest their ectoplasm here so long as they don't upset the natural balance of things."

[glowygreendeath]

"We have no ectoplasm."

Disgusting stuff. He didn't see the point in it, especially when wayward souls produced pure energy that could be put to so many wonderful uses.

"What natural balance do you speak of?"

Was he not supposed to touch anything? Avoid digging up any graves? Every realm seemed to balance nature differently; some could take seemingly cataclysmic events in stride, while others seemed to wilt if there was any change at all.

[morticium]

"The comfort of our relatives, of course. We Addamses can be a bit...territorial." None of the spirits in the graveyard seem particularly troubled yet, but she knows how some of the great-uncles and aunts can get a bit crotchety when they have the spiritual version of gas.

"If you don't have ectoplasm, why are you here? Are you flesh and blood?"

[glowygreendeath]

"We are many souls bound in flesh and blood by sorcery."

And yet, he continues to float just off the ground as if gravity didn't exist.

"What are you?"

He asks the question out of pure curiosity. He's met many different sentient species, after all, and a few of them could pass for human.

[morticium]

"Ah. Does it get crowded?"

Morticia doesn't seem bothered at all by the fact that Ermac is floating, or his bizarre explanation for what he is.

"I'm one of the living. Can't you tell?"

[glowygreendeath]

"Does your body get crowded?"

He was built to house souls, and anyway, it wasn't like they had physical mass or volume. If one felt so inclined, it was possible to fit all the souls in the world into the head of a pin.

"We no longer trust our senses to tell us if someone is living or simply undead. You possess a body and a soul; that is all we know for certain."

Day Three

[ruffntumblenut]

"Mmmpf!"

A hand bursts out from the soil of one of the graves and a ghastly pale girl drags herself out of the ground spitting dirt and coughing up disgusting bits of who knows what.

Ruffnut is confused to find herself in such a creepy place, and more then a little bit shocked to find herself in apparently her own shallow grave, complete with a headstone.

Then her eyes settled on the owner of this particular graveyard and she groaned.

"Figures you'd be in a place like this." She muttered looking down and finding with some form of amusement that her body had holes riddled through it from the spikes of the iron maiden Wednesday had killed her in. She could not see there was in face a hole going clean through the middle of her forehead but the rest were in very obvious places as soil and earth worms were tumbling out of the holes as she struggled to crawl out. She so far had only made it as far as her belly.

[homicidium]

Wednesday is seated on what appears to be a sofa carved from stone, and she does not seem surprised to see a body bursting from the ground. She also doesn't seem surprised that that body is very clearly dead and full of holes.

After all, what would a graveyard be without a little resurrection?

"Why would I want to be anywhere else?" she asks calmly, not getting up to help Ruffnut from the ground. She's sort of hoping there's nothing below that waist. "It's nice here."

[ruffntumblenut]

"Well you're not dead...at least I don't think you are."

It took a little more effort but Ruffnut hauled herself out of the dirt and looked down, dismayed to see that everything below her belly button was gone and only bones remained. It would have been horrific, perhaps even comical but the logic of this dream world kept her from reacting more then "Huh." And reaching down to slip a finger through one of her Obturator Foramen (Not that she knew what it was called)

"It is pretty peaceful though." She added with a sense of appreciation for dark, damp creepy places. "Someone told me that most people don't burn their dead like we do, even drew me a picture of a place like this."

[homicidium]

"Of course I'm not dead."

Her feet dangle and kick a little, heels bumping the stone she's sitting on. She watches Ruffnut discover her new handicap with some interest, though it would have been better if she were just a torso and a head. Oh well, skeleton legs isn't the worst thing.

"Some people do, but not on pyres, at least not often. But some people are burned to ashes and then you keep the ashes in an urn or a skull or something. My brother and I once tried to give a Viking funeral to a hamster, but the swamp is too flammable and the fire department had to come out."

[ruffntumblenut]

That little story catches Ruffnut's attention and her eyes light up with excitement.

"That sounds amazing! Was it a really big swamp? How tall were the flames?"

For however much she's grown as a person in the last few months, Ruffnut is and always will be a pyromaniac at heart. Even as her skeleton legs click together with each little twist and motion they make.

[homicidium]

"Well, it's not huge if you compare it to every swamp in the world." Wednesday's face turns a bit thoughtful as she considers the size of the Addams swamp. "Maybe a few hundred feet across each way. It's big enough for the monster, at least. Mother and Father didn't let the flames get too tall, though. Only tall enough to be entertaining. Besides, the smell was pretty strong."

[ruffntumblenut]

Wednesday may have insulted her and killed her, but the girl had a way of keeping Ruffnut's attention. The viking girl's eyes shimmered at the mental image of such a blaze and such a rotten smell.

"What's the monster like? Was it upset with the fire?"

[homicidium]

"He's just a normal swamp monster. Kind of tentacle-y." Wednesday waves her hand vaguely, like everyone just knows what swamp monsters look like. "He mostly stays underwater, though. I don't know if he minded the fire, probably he just went to the bottom of the swamp and waited until it was put out. I guess he wouldn't want to be burned."

She thinks for another second. "He must not have been angry, though, because usually he slaps the ground with his tentacles when he is. And he didn't do that."

[ruffntumblenut]

"That is so cool!" Ruffnut sighed almost dreamily gazing off in the assumed direction of the swamp. "We don't have any swamp Monsters back home, we thought we had a fog monster once out at Breakneck Bog, but it turned out to be a swarm of Smothering Smokebreath dragons. Not nearly as cool...still dangerous but not like...rip the flesh from your bones then rain the bones down from the sky sort of dangerous like a fog monster would be."

And then her attention was back on Wednesday as she crossed her skeleton legs and leant against a headstone casually.

"What other sort of monsters do you got around here?"

[homicidium]

"Is everything a dragon where you come from?" she asks, because that's all Ruffnut seems to talk about, everything somehow relates back to dragons, and Wednesday wonders what kind of strange place would be so infested with them and still have people living there.

"There are several monsters in our family tree. All kinds of sociopaths and maniacs."

[ruffntumblenut]

"Well...we got chickens, fish, boars, yaks, sheep and...dragons. Lots of dragons of every shape and size so...yeah all the cool things are." She determines and then adds "Well and humans. We've got humans too." As if that needed explanation.

Once again Ruffnut's eyes light up at the prospect of such a brutal and violent sounding family. "So this place is like...just another family reunion for you huh?" She laughed heartily.

Wednesday and Gomez, Day 1!

[morticium]

Morticia and Gomez have taken to a couch on the lobby, not oblivious or apathetic but uncaring to the amount of people around them as they coo sweet nothings at each other now that they've found some time alone, without the children (charmingly) attempting to murder each other or Thing trying to get attention. Their fingers are twined together, and it's only when they hear a familiar voice that Morticia looks up.

"Wednesday," Morticia says in that faux-pleasantly surprised tone she has that reveals how very little actually is capable of surprising her, or at the very least of rattling her. Finding herself and her husband here in this strange, crowded lobby is probably nothing more than an errant result of their last attempt at astral projection, or possibly a hallucination from the toxic mold growing between the ivy outside. "Where have you been off to?"

[isthatfrench]

There are many possible explanations for why they've found themselves in this place, but Gomez is not particularly concerned about which one is the correct one. They are Addamses. Whatever the situation, they will persevere. And what worries could he possibly have, when beside his beloved wife? He clasps her hand, murmurs softly in her ear, dips in with amorous intent on his mind...

"Wednesday!" Gomez is not so much surprised as he is genuinely excited to see his daughter. And so he snaps to attention, head swiveling about, all eyes on his daughter now. "Yes, yes! Come, have a seat! Tell us all about it." And he moves to make room for her to join them, finally releasing Morticia's hand.

[homicidium]

She's shockingly affectionate for a moment, hugging both of them tightly as soon as she climbs up on the couch. It's not something Wednesday often feels, but she's been so lonely and wanted nothing more than for her family to be here. And now they are, at least two of them.

Underneath the affection is worry, worry and anger that now they're stuck here as much as she is.

"Here, I've been here!" she says, looking between them and sitting on the edge of the cushion. "First I was in the Arena, and it was nice there, and I killed four people -- one with a guillotine, one with an iron maiden, I hung one, and then the last one was with a pitchfork." She's ticking them off on her fingers, speaking quicker and more excitably than she ever normally would. "Then a tree who is actually a man killed me, but I didn't even go to Hell, I just woke back up here, up on the seventh floor. And they threw him a huge party that I had to go to, because they always give the winner a big party. And I have a friend who's a body filled with thousands of souls."

[morticium]

"Oh, are they crowded?"

Morticia holds Wednesday close with a concerned expression. It isn't as if she's scared for her daughter, but Wednesday never behaves like this, and any marked change of behavior could be something as harmless as schizophrenia or something much more unfortunate. She pats at Wednesday's hair as she sits on the cushion.

[homicidium]

"I don't know. He doesn't seem to worry for them."

Wednesday doesn't notice that her mother is concerned, just curls up next to her and rests her head against Morticia's side, watching the crowds come and go, the big screens replaying footage from the Arena. "See?" she says, pointing as she pops up on screen, latching Nux into the guillotine and gleefully releasing the blade. "That was the first one I killed. They give me money for each kill, otherwise I wouldn't have any food."