dramatispersonae | ✩ Tiger's Eye

Each team finds themselves in . . . what appears to be a space trying desperately to imitate, perhaps, someone's grandmother's overly-cluttered attic. At the very least, there are things everywhere, perched precariously on shelves and ledges, on tables, under tables, tables on tables, cupboards, closets . . .

There is an elaborate gramophone on one of the tables that begins to play with slow, winding crackle of static:

"There's a lot to making things, you know? A lot of components, a lot of pieces, a lot of parts . . . I'm sure you know that! It would be impossible not to. After all, humans themselves are made of a lot of parts! I'll bet if we took you apart you'd be stunned at how many parts there really are, you know, parts that are soft and squishy and parts that are hard and parts that were hurt as a child and parts that yearn for the future . . . well. We're not going to! If we took you apart there'd be nobody left to play the game. But! I wonder what parts you'd show if we were to take you apart just a little . . . ah. Or, just—what parts you'd show if we asked. What will you show? And I suppose, after all, you're each a part of a part of something else, and you'll have to work with what you have . . . but! Maybe that's part of the game. Hmmm . . . parts that are safe to show and parts that aren't—opening up your ribcage to show your heart, now, that would be something! I really think that would be something. But—it's up to you."

Instructions!

In the room, you'll find . . .

✩ tables, chairs, and various furniture
✩ a wardrobe full of costumes & clothing (dresses! monocles! fluffy bunny hats!)
✩ numerous art supplies and paper
✩ a basin of water
✩ several coils of rope
✩ an entire bag of feathers
✩ a set of cutlery
✩ several volumes of assorted poetry
✩ a box labelled "secrets"
✩ boxes of uncooked pasta
✩ buckets of paint
✩ a full-length mirror
✩ molding clay
✩ a box of small handheld percussion instruments
✩ a bass drum
✩ a set of glass spheres that, when held, can store memories for sharing
✩ a large stuffed koala
✩ a bucket full of keys
✩ hundreds of eyeball-shaped stickers
✩ a giant ball of red yarn
✩ a poloroid camera
✩ a hammer
✩ an empty wine bottle
✩ a full bottle of wine
✩ a makeup kit

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

. . . done!

[DONE]

Thank you.

[using the duct tape as a stabilizer, she starts to work on building something like a tower out of the available furniture with a table as a base; she can't lift the heavier ones, but she starts to build a complex piece looking something like this; it's mostly chairs, and a couple collapses happen along the way (resulting on some bruises) but eventually it's complete and about as tall as the ceiling]

...

[attempts to climb it and see if she can sit safely on the very top near the ceiling]

[GUESS WHO DIDN'T FORTIFY THE MIDDLE SECTION WELL ENOUGH]

[timberrrrrrrrrrrrrrr]

[...o....w]

Well, that answers that question.

[... what is going on here] Sleuth? What are you doing?

[you are just in time to see this whole thing crash down and me fall over getting even more bruised is what's going on here]

Shit! [going to rescue her from the rubble]

[is not badly injured, fortunately; pushing the table off of her]

Ow.

[helping pull it from the other side, then crouching by her] Are you alright?

I'm alright... no vital areas were damaged. Not badly, anyway.

[gets up]

I was trying to make it stable enough that I could sit at the top.

Show me where you're hurt.

[blinks, then gestures to her hip]

I landed on it.

I can help now, remember. [comes over with the intent to touch it briefly and heal it]

[o]

Ah--thank you. That's much better. I was trying to build a tower out of the furniture but it seems it's not stable enough.

No problem. Pity you weren't here for our adventures in building bunkbeds, we all learned a lot about that. After our first attempt failed, in any case.

[looking at the remains of the tower]

Well, it seems the duct tape held together the base of it, but the middle section needs to be fortified better. I felt it could represent... well, balance. Structure and harmony.