Long Form Roleplayers

Previously: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Characters:

You are not logged in. - Lloyd Morgan-Jackson

You are not logged in. - Bartender Ghost

The Author:
Previously Lloyd and Emmet spoke at length with Richard Hallorann, the groundskeeper of the Overlook Hotel. After arranging for separate rooms, the two detectives decide to split up to better explore. Myster Emmet headed out to the Hedge Maze to check up on Wendy Torrance, and Lloyd Morgan-Jackson to the Kitchen in order to meet back up with Richard Hallorann.

Bartender Ghost:
With it being about 1:10 pm, Mr. Emmet has left the room leaving you to your own devices. Is there anything you wish to do, Mr. Morgan-Jackson?

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
As I previously mentioned to Emmet, I will go to the kitchen and see if lunch is ready. With Wendy outside, I assume that to be the case. And maybe I will meet her husband or son there.

Bartender Ghost:
Stepping out of the room, Mr. Emmet seems to have already run off on his merry way. The hallway is empty and quiet. It is simple enough to make your way back to the stairs and down to the main hallway and back to the kitchen. The pot for the stew is covered, the heat is on, but otherwise, there is no change here.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
Is the heat set to high or low? I try to discern if the stew is finished and just kept warm with low heat, or if it's still cooking.

Bartender Ghost:
The heat is set to medium-low while the stew simmers, the stew appears to be in the final part of preparation.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I frown a bit, as it's usually a very bad idea to leave a stove unattended with something cooking on it. But hopefully, Wendy knows what she's doing.

Bartender Ghost:
While you’re investigating the stew, a man comes into the kitchen from the dining hall.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I turn to look at the man. Is it Richard, or someone I haven't met yet?

You are not logged in. - Jack Torrance

Bartender Ghost:
"Wendy, is lunch ready yet? I'm starving here!" He pauses when he sees you. "Oh, the new guy."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Hello. Mr. Torrance, I presume?", I ask politely.

Bartender Ghost:
"Yep, that would be me. Did Wendy leave you in charge of the food, normally it would be ready by now, and thought I'd take a little break from work and spend some time with her. You are?" The man gives a look at the pot.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Lloyd, nice to meet you", I offer a faint smile. "She didn't leave me in charge, I came here also thinking it might be ready. I suppose it's almost done, though."

Bartender Ghost:
"Well in that case, suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a little for ourselves." He comes over to the pot next to you and reaches for one of the nearby bowls before taking the lid off. The stew does seem almost done, it is thick but could probably use a few more minutes. He however sinks the ladle into it and begins to pour a decent portion for himself. "Lloyd, interesting name. Guessing you and your partner arrived here today?"

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I watch him pour the stew as I say: "Yes, that's right." Then I decide to go out on a limb. "What makes it interesting? The fact I share it with the bartender here?" Unsure if I'm making a huge mistake or not, but hey... sometimes you have to risk it.

Bartender Ghost:
He pauses thinking about it for a moment then does something unusual. He reaches out and pokes you in the left side of the chest. "Sorry about that, Lloyd, just needed to check something. Just saying it's an unusual name is all, not many Lloyd's I've come upon in my time."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson: I chuckle.
"Don't worry, I'm just as real as you, your wife, or Mr. Hallorann. It's a Welsh name. Means 'gray'", I add, as I reach over and take a bowl for myself.

Bartender Ghost:
He gives a slight smile and nods, "Good to know. Guess since she isn't here, we could visit instead. Hope you and your partner are fitting in around here. There is supposed to be a big storm tonight."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Well, I guess it's too soon to tell, but the job seems simple enough so far. Mr. Hallorann seems to be doing most of the heavy lifting here, so our job is just to check on things from time to time and make sure nothing is out of order. Right? And yeah... I've heard about the storm. Hopefully it won't be too bad." I take the ladle and stir the stew a bit.

Bartender Ghost:
"Yup, it's a pretty relaxed job. That's why I took it, figured Wendy could stand to have some time away from the city, and I needed the peace and quiet so I could work on my novel. Was hoping Danny would calm down too, but his imagination seems to be running as wild as ever. Maybe he gets that from his pop." He tastes the stew and then starts to blow on it to help cool it off.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I start pouring the stew in my bowl too, two ladles for now, deciding to take seconds if I like it. I take a spoon and go and sit at a nearby table. "You're a writer? Very nice. I've always had great appreciation for arts of any kind. What is your novel about?"

Bartender Ghost:
"It keeps going back and forth actually. Mystery, romance, murder, and a few detailed acts of loving along the way of course." He gives a wry smile at that one. "I'm struggling to find the right words, have to keep everything in balance, and even in this place, there are always distractions."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Yeah, I can imagine that it's tough to strike the right balance." I take a spoonful of stew and blow on it for a while, before taking a cautious taste. Does it taste good?

Bartender Ghost:
The stew does taste good, Mrs. Torrance seems to have found a good mix of vegetables to complement the taste of the deer meat, though it is still a little thin as the potatoes needed to break down more to thicken it up. "She's a good cook, isn't she?", Jack begins. "One of the reasons why I married her. At least she is good at that, though, while I pull the paycheck and take care of the kid."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"She is, indeed", I say, deciding not to comment on that second part, as I highly doubt that Jack is the one taking care of the kid. "By the way, what would you say are the biggest distractions in this place? So far, everything seems very quiet."

Bartender Ghost:
"Every now and then Danny comes to my door and knocks, even when I've told him a hundred times now to leave me be when I'm in there. Wendy comes up to deliver my food, thought I'd try to surprise her and give her some time today though. Dick stays clear of me, think that's smart on his part, as he knows I'm on to him. Besides that, outside of a stocked bar I'm trying to avoid looking at, it's nice and quiet." He takes a couple bites of the food afterwards.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I take a few spoonfuls before asking: "On to him? What do you mean? Is Mr. Hallorann being... untrustworthy in some way?"

Bartender Ghost:
"Think it is pretty obvious he has an interest in Wendy. Lonely man up here all by himself. Think Wendy knows better than to be unfaithful though, I would not tolerate that, no sir." He takes another bit of the stew and then sets his bowl down, then starts to pour some water from the tap into a glass. "How about you, ever have somebody try to move in on your man? How's that work anyways, which one of you two is in charge?"

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I make sure to suppress an eyeroll that starts forming spontaneously at this question. "Not yet, Emmet and I have only gotten together recently. And...", I take another spoon of stew before answering, "there isn't anyone in charge, it's an equal partnership", I say, keeping things intentionally vague. "I don't think you need to worry about Wendy being unfaithful. I've had a chance to talk to her earlier, and she seems very devoted to you."

Bartender Ghost:
"Good to hear she is, after all, been taking care of her and the kid all this time. I wonder where she is now..." He sets down his half-eaten stew and starts to pace, "And where is Dick..."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I wonder if I should mention that I've seen Wendy in the maze, but considering Jack's paranoia, jealousy and controlling behavior, I decide not to say anything. "Mr. Hallorann said he'd be doing his usual rounds before checking on the boiler room at 2pm. I am supposed to meet him here."

Bartender Ghost:
He eases up at that, "Oh just his normal routine then. Still odd for Wendy not to be here cooking. She spends the morning schooling Danny, and usually starts up lunch right afterward." His eyes suddenly widen while he pulls out a pad of paper and starts to write something down, "Now that's an idea."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
Can I see the paper and the writing from where I'm sitting?

Bartender Ghost:
Not well enough to make out what is written, but the page he is on seems rather full. He finishes making his note and flips it closed. "Yeah, that's a good one. Always got to have a good twist in the story, right Lloyd?" Lets out a laugh with a genuine smile on his face.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Sure, twists are what keeps the readers engaged", I say. "Do you wanna share your idea, or would you rather keep it to yourself?", I ask.

Bartender Ghost:
"It's just an idea right now, will try to type it up some when I get back up to the room." He picks up the bowl and eats a little more stew. "They say art imitates life. Right now I'm thinking about who's been cheating on who in the story and how that leads to some... unfortunate... situations."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Are you basing this story on some real-life events?", I ask, trying to sound casual, as I keep eating.

Bartender Ghost:
"Just some inspiration, Lloyd. It would be ridiculous to write a story about people trapped in a hotel during the winter. Don't think that would sell, let alone climb to something like a bestseller. This story is about... regrets. How things could have been different if people better knew their place." And with a few more bites he finishes the meal, "She really is a good cook."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Right... I guess real life is rarely as exciting as a story... Probably because real life is written and directed by countless of different individuals, whereas stories usually have just one author who makes sure everything neatly falls into place."

Bartender Ghost:
"You're right about that, Lloyd. Making a story fit neatly together is much easier than juggling the relationships of those around you. It's better when people know their place when they don't need to be managed. Sometimes I regret having a boy with so much imagination, if only because he's hard to keep track of. Characters in a book though, do what they are supposed to. As they should." He looks to the side while saying that letting his thoughts wander, then turns back to you.

Bartender Ghost:
"Best I get back to work. If you see Wendy, think you could ask her to come up to the study? I want to spend some time with her, show her some tender love before the storm hits."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
Once again, I make sure to suppress an eyeroll before replying: "Sure, will do. It was nice meeting you, Jack."

Bartender Ghost:
"You too, Lloyd." He starts to walk away and then pauses looking back at you, "You don't drink, do you?"

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"I do not. It's not really my thing. And you? You mentioned you're trying to avoid looking at the bar, so... I assume you don't either?"

Bartender Ghost:
"Used to have a problem, but I'm sober now. I'll say something else about Wendy, Lloyd, she can put up with a lot. Don't think I deserve her after those days." He then turns and starts to leave, just as Richard Hallorann comes walking in.

You are not logged in. - Richard Hallorann

Bartender Ghost:
The two share an uneasy gaze. "Howdy Jack, surprised to see you here." Jack clears his throat, "Just getting some lunch, Dick, was hoping to see Wendy before I got back to work. That deer you shot tastes good." It is clear that Jack is doing his best to be polite.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I keep eating, as I let the interaction play out.

Bartender Ghost:
"Well Jack, I haven't seen Wendy today. Seems like she made ourselves a good lunch though, happy that meat is getting used." Jack lingers a moment and then responds, "Dick, don't take Danny with you hunting again. Think it's a bad influence on him. He was telling me how that fake dog of his got bit." Jack then doesn't wait for a response, he wanders off. Richard turns his attention to you after Jack has left and lets out a sigh. "Don't think he likes me much."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I ponder for a while whether I should tell Richard what Jack suspects him of, but I decide not to. It would be best if the two of them would talk it out and clear out any misunderstandings, but I'm not sure Jack has the capacity for that. "Yeah, you did mention that earlier... You think it's because of your... skin tone?"

Bartender Ghost:
"Could be... hard to say. My gut tells me that might be it, though. No doubt you've noticed he's a bit more... traditional in his views. Wouldn't surprise me if he was on the other side of the Civil Rights movement, even if he would have been a teenager back then." You notice him clench his fist slightly but then ease up. "That stew smells damn good, think I'll get myself a bowl before we check out the boiler room together."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I nod and wait until Richard is back with the bowl, before finally deciding to speak. "From what he said just now as he was talking to me... I don't think that's the reason", I say. Not sure if I am making a mistake, but being jealous is better than being a racist. I hope so at least. It seems easier to solve at any rate.

Bartender Ghost:
After dishing up some of the stew, he takes a taste and smacks his lips, "Hmm... Fine good dish this is." He then focuses more on your words, "Hope you're right about that. Even if it were the case, spent my life dealing with folks like that till I moved in here. Summer can be bad with all the tourist and guests staying, some of them use terms behind my back that reminds me such sentiments is still common. Like it more in the winter when it's just me and a couple others around." He eats some more of the stew and eyes the clock with it coming up on 1:40.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
He doesn't ask me about why I think that, but I continue to explain myself. "It seems he is worried that... you might be interested in... his wife... being a single man living all alone and everything....", I trail off.

Bartender Ghost:
He gives a nod. "Typical concern from them. They always think that we are after their women." He shakes his head and puts down the bowl. "Wendy is lonely, she and Jack don't seem to be that lovey-dovey anymore, I think anybody can realize. She told me she sticks out for Danny, and she doesn't think she could support the boy by herself. Keep telling her she is wrong there, she's could be a cook even and make ends meet." He then walks over and checks the freezer door making sure it isn't stuck.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I realize that my comments didn't really do much to make things better, as Richard was able to neatly incorporate them into his existing theory. "Sure... but if you've never worked before, or never been independent before... it's hard to start. Sometimes it's easier to stay in a familiar situation, even if it's... painful."

Bartender Ghost:
"That it is. People learn to tolerate a lot to keep things the same, overlook things that might best not be overlooked." He opens the freezer door and then closes it again. "You ready to check out the boiler, Lloyd? Could be good somebody else knows how to operate it, just in case something bad happens with it."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Yes", I say, as I finish up my meal. "Uhmm... where do we put the dirty dishes?"

Bartender Ghost:
As you say that, he sees that Jack left his dirty dish on the counter and moves over to it, picking it up, he then reaches for your bowl. "Here, I'll take that." He then gestures over to a nearby sink. The room is designed to have many cooking stations on account of a hotel staff serving hundreds, but the one he gestures to is nearby and has signs of regular use.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I let him take the bowl and follow him. Is the sink otherwise empty?

Bartender Ghost:
It is empty with some drying dishes next to it, no doubt used by Wendy when she was preparing the food earlier. He turns on the water and starts to clean the bowls. "Listened to the radio report again before coming here, sounds like that storm is going to be really bad. They are saying the worst one since 1960, 23 years ago. Afraid the power might go out."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Oh, that would be quite unfortunate... If it goes out, do you have a way to restore it? And... I'll wash my own dish, don't worry about it", I offer.

Bartender Ghost:
"There are some generators around we can use, but need to do that sparingly. Power goes out every now and then over the years, but it sounds like if it went out tonight, might be stuck here for a week or more on our own." He nervously brings his right hand up to the back of his neck then moves over to the boiler door while fishing out a ring of keys from his pocket with his left hand. "Think we will be okay then, nothing could be as bad as that storm from 1960."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Let's hope so", I say, as I follow him to the boiler room door.

<Boiler Room Banner>

Bartender Ghost:
The boiler room is large, with many pipes around and various machines present. The lighting could be better, a few dim amber bulbs illuminate the room after he flips the switch. The room is noticeably warm. "Here it is, a whole bunch of machines that keep the building heated and the water running. You'd be surprised how much water runs through here to provide hot showers to the customers during the summer." He moves over and starts to look at some pressure dials.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"It sure looks imposing", I say. "What is it that you need to check here?"

Bartender Ghost:
"Need to make sure all the pressure is at the proper levels. Sometimes a clog can happen, or things that disrupt the flow. For example, the bathtub in room W212 was on, draining the hot water when I made my rounds earlier. Need to ask Danny if he was playing around in that room..." His attention is drawn as he messes with some levers and feels the side of the metal tanks with his bare hand getting a sense for the temperature.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I do the same, curious about the temperature.

Bartender Ghost:
It is hot to the touch, uncomfortably so. It would seem that Richard has developed a tolerance for it, though, as he doesn't flinch. "Careful there, Lloyd, they are hot." He walks down the line of them, 8 large tanks in total labeled simply from A to H. He then starts to talk about the technical aspects of the tanks, explaining that A - F supply water to the rooms, while G and H supply water to the Kitchen and other minor locations. While he is giving his explanation, he seems to be keeping an eye out.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I nod, listening carefully, trying to understand and memorize the details. I wait for him to finish before asking: "Are you... watching out for something in particular?"

Bartender Ghost:
He lets out a nervous laugh when you catch him looking. "Sometimes you see things around here, Lloyd. Do you believe in ghosts?" He says while he tends to some of the machines.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I think before answering. "I'm not sure if it's ghosts, or something else... but I do believe that there are things out there that can't be explained by the current science. Whether it's supernatural... or just natural phenomena we don't yet understand... I don't know." I pause, before asking a question of my own. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Bartender Ghost:
"I absolutely do, Lloyd. Sometimes I can even see them. Maybe see isn't the word, it's more like... feel them." He returns his attention to the pipe he was dealing with and moves over to the next tank. "When I was younger, I could see things more clearly, but now as a reasonably older adult, it's kind of fuzzy. Like when you need glasses to read."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I nod, listening to this. I know better than to dismiss supernatural occurrences, considering that I was transported here by a Ghost in a supernatural train, and everything else I've witnessed over the past year and a half… "And... you feel them here? Now?"

Bartender Ghost:
"I do. It's why I work here actually. That storm that hit 23 years ago... I was here then." He turns and moves away from the remaining tanks and directs you to follow him, moving to another corner of the room. "Over here, come look."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
Considering the way his face and body look like, his posture, gait and everything else, how old does he appear to be? I think of this, as I follow him to the corner.

Bartender Ghost:
You would guess that he is around 40 years old, perhaps a little older. He lacks facial hair, and there are no signs of grey in what little remains.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Twenty-three years ago? Were you just a teen then, or are you actually one of those supernatural creatures who don't age?", I ask, making sure to inject enough humor into my voice, so my question can be passed off as a joke, but I actually do want to know.

Bartender Ghost:
He looks away from the object he is looking at right into your eyes, "You think I'm a ghost, huh?" Mr. Hallorann's face then curls up as his mouth opens wide, he lets out a loud laugh and slaps his knee. After a moment of breath, he catches himself, "Oh lord no, I ain't no ghost. But there are plenty around here if you know what to look for. This is what happened on that night." He then gestures for you to look at the object in question.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I notice that he avoided answering the question about his age, but maybe I didn't ask it clearly enough. I look at where he's pointing.

Bartender Ghost:
He's gesturing to a row of damaged tanks similar to the 8 he was tending to moments ago. Three of them however are fractured, broken, as though they exploded. "I was a teen back then, 14 years old and my mother worked here all year round. That night, when the blizzard set in, there was a fire. Something caused these tanks to get clogged and explode, the East Wing went up in a blaze, and that huge maze outside burnt with it. It was the worst night of my life." His mood shifts back to a more serious yet depressed tone as he reminisces on the tragedy.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"That's horrible.... Was your mother harmed in the fire?", I ask quietly.

Bartender Ghost:
"She was fine, but she never wanted to come back here after that night. You see, Mr. Lloyd, this old place has been here a long time, and over those years a lot of people have died here. If you ask me, those people never get to leave. When I was a boy, I could see them... Now I can only hear them. Usually, they are calm, but the last couple of days... something is riling them up." He turns his head suddenly towards the door as you both hear the sound of the latch locking.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I rush to the door to check it.

Bartender Ghost:
The door has indeed become locked, pressing against it, it is clear that only a key would unlock it. Mr. Hallorann is already coming your way pulling the keys from his pocket, then starts to sift through the ring looking for the right one in the poor amber light of this room. "Oh god dammit. This shit ain't funny."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
Does the door have any sort of window in it, or is it completely solid? Is there a way to see who might be on the other side?

Bartender Ghost:
This door is completely solid and made of steel at that, perhaps to help protect other parts of the hotel in case of potential... disasters. As Mr. Hallorann comes over to the door, he inserts the correct key and starts to open it only for there to be the sound of grating metal sliding across the floor outside. He starts to open the door outward when a large object slams into it on the outside knocking him back to the floor.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I press into the door with all my weight, trying to push it open.

Bartender Ghost:
Whatever object was thrown down the stairs is clearly heavy. Off the top of your keen mind, you recall only a few objects that might be able to do it, such as a nearby shelving unit. Regardless, with all your pushing, the door remains stuck. Richard lays on the floor moving, getting to his knees while checking his right leg. "Goddamn it. It's starting."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"What's starting?", I frown. "Are you hurt? Can you stand up?"

Bartender Ghost:
Mr. Hallorann winces but manages to stand up. "I ain't that old, a tumble won't stop me." It's noticeable that with the newfound stress of the situation, his attempts to stay in a more formal speaking manner are slipping. "While I was away from this place before... I started doing some research into things. Old ghost stories, tales, talks of magic turtles or voodoo nonsense. I heard that these things come in cycles Lloyd. Been working here for 14 years now looking for the cycle to repeat... and I think we just learned the number. 23 years."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
Twenty-three seems like a very weird number for a cycle, but I decide not to voice that thought. "Is it somehow triggered by very intense storms....?", I ask. "Or... did this disturbance that supposedly happens every 23 years create such a storm...? And... more importantly... are we going to die here? Are the tanks going to explode again and set everything on fire?", I try to keep my voice steady, but the signs of anxiety are apparent in my tone.

Bartender Ghost:
He moves over back to the active tanks while you are asking your question. "The tanks seem fine to me, no clogs or disruption. It's damn hot in here though." And sure enough, Mr. Morgan-Jackson, the heat in the room is alarmingly high, a warm 90 degrees or so. "We ain't going to die here, but we might be stuck at the moment. Maybe we can find a way to get that door open..." He then starts looking around.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
Does it feel warmer than it did when we first entered?

Bartender Ghost:
Perhaps some, you've only been in here for about a short time with it being around 2pm, and so it is hard to say if the temperature has risen much.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I start to look around as well for something like a crowbar, or anything that's long and hard enough to be able to serve as a lever. As I search, I ask: "So if this is a cycle, did your research reveal another similar incident in...", I do a quick calculation in my head, "...1937?"

Bartender Ghost:
He is also now looking around with you. "37... that sound... there was some massacre in New York City on Halloween... maybe something in... Chicago..." He finds a lead pipe with the end twisted and mangled. As you are searching, you spot a few objects of note. A long pipe like the one he has, a broom, and some large pieces of scrap metal from the destroyed tanks he showed you. "I just heard these things come in cycles. Some town up in Maine nobody knows the name of has it too, people disappearing."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Well, this isn't New York City or Chicago... I guess if it's a cycle, it should repeat in the same place, right...? But maybe the cycle started in 1960? Or... maybe there's a different explanation...", I trail off, realizing that there's no use thinking about this too much now. I grab another pipe like the one Richard took. "Alright... think we can use these to pry the door open? I don't suppose there's a secret passageway here which only you know about which we can use to safely exit...?", I ask, a hint of sarcasm in my voice, but once again, I am actually interested in the answer and not dismissing it fully as an option.

Bartender Ghost:
"If there was a secret passage, you'd think I be holding a pipe like this?" He manages to crack a smile despite the desperate nature of the situation. With both of you holding pipes, he comes over to the door and tries to shove it open as much as he can. Whatever is holding the door shut is clearly heavy, but not flush with the door itself, and so it manages to open just a small crack while he strains his muscles.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I make sure to slide the pipe in the crack, and use it as a lever to keep pushing the door open.

Bartender Ghost:
Using your pipe, you are able to help keep it open. "Good, think we are making some progress." Mr. Hallorann then adjusts his pipe to cross against yours while wedging it in as well, then thrusts forward, attempting to help leverage whatever object has been used to block the door. The sounds of metal grating against the floor outside can be heard. In the effort to move the object, he starts to wince in pain as his knee shudders, it would seem his knee is not as unscathed as he claimed.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
How far have we opened the door? Is it enough for me to slip through, lean as I am?

Bartender Ghost:
It would be a tight fit, but you could likely do so with a little discomfort.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"Alright, let me try to slip out and pull this shelf back... or whatever it is....", I say and then pause. "Do you think... that... whatever... or whoever... pushed this against the door isn't waiting outside? I don't wanna be chopped to pieces like this...."

Bartender Ghost:
"Be careful, Lloyd." He says, "Not everything you see or hear around here might be real... I have a feeling things are going to get very dangerous soon." He then winces trying to open it another inch so you can start to work your way through.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
Well, that's not very reassuring, I think, but I keep this thought to myself. Before I start to squeeze through, is there anything around here that I can bring along as a weapon? Beside the pipe that I used, that is.

Bartender Ghost:
Outside of the scraps of metal that you saw before, there would not be any obvious things. However, as you start to look around, Mr. Hallorann lets out a sigh. "You're worried aren't you. Don't blame you... You can take my pistol if you want." He then lowers his pipe as the door is wedged open as much as it is going to, then lifts his coat to once again reveal the firearm to you that you saw back in his room.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"I.... I don't know how to fire a gun....", I say, slightly embarrassed. "And... if they're ghosts... a gun probably wouldn't help anyway. But... if they're humans...." I quickly run my mind over possible suspects... Jack? He seems malicious enough. Danny? I haven't met him, but maybe this is his idea of fun? I don't think Wendy did this, besides, she was with Emmet until recently, although she certainly had enough time to make her way back.

"Nah, I'll just take this", I say, and stuff the pipe I used under my armpit, before I start squeezing through.

Bartender Ghost:
He slumps down against the wall to a seated position, some sweat showing on his brow from exertion and the heat of the room. "Stay safe."

Bartender Ghost:
You then start to squeeze through it. It's a tight squeeze as you maneuver your slender body around the door almost like a cat. Getting your head around the corner you finally see the object that has been blocking the door, it is larger than a shelf. It is in fact one of the stoves. Not the one that Mrs. Torrance was using, but one that was close to this door. You do not see any immediate sign of danger.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"I'll try", I respond, before thinking. Not really much I can do about it.... After getting my head out and around the corner, I breathe a small sigh of relief as there doesn't seem to be an assailant just waiting to pounce. I keep wiggling before getting myself fully out.

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
"It's one of the stoves...", I say to Richard through the crack... "Someone pushed a whole stove down the stairs...."

Lloyd Morgan-Jackson:
I examine its position, looking to see if there's any room for it to be pushed away from the door further.

Bartender Ghost:
It is not completely flush with the stairs, one of its corners is on the bottom one thus leading it to be at an awkward angle propped up against the door. It is also on its side, suggesting that it was essentially rolled down the stairs into the door. Given your slender build, Mr. Morgan-Jackson, you would be able to slip past it. For now though, let us check in and see how your partner is doing…

Published: 2023-02-10, viewed 14 times.