please make sure you read below for further details and be sure to tag your starters #sw.start2 … this post specifies the events starting the morning of january 11, 2025, following the disturbing events of the previous night. three people, roberta santos, juno lee, and bernice thomas, are missing. the storm has cut them off from the outside world, and paranoia begins to take hold. feel free to set your threads around the shocking discovery, search parties, accusations, or any reactions as the group grapples with the tension and uncertainty.
this plot drop will go into effect on 1/31/25 at 6 pm est and last until 2/7/25 at 6 pm est ! you are free to continue current threads as long as they somehow connect back to the current plot otherwise, use the next 24 hours to finish up any current threads + plan new ones !
𝟏𝟐:𝟎𝟎 𝐀𝐌 – 𝟕:𝟑𝟎 𝐀𝐌
at some point, the fire died, buried beneath fresh snowfall. inside, the group drifted into uneasy sleep — some in beds, others curled up on couches or tucked into armchairs. the only sounds were the occasional creak of the cabin and the wind pressing against the windows.
and then ... sometime in the dead of night ... it happened.
𝟕:𝟑𝟎 𝐀𝐌
by early morning isadora morgan’s scream tore through the morning silence, sharp and raw, sending everyone scrambling from their beds.
the first sign that something was wrong was the front door, standing ajar. outside, everything was white. the lake, the trees, the driveway ... snow stretched as far as the eye could see, nearly knee deep in places.
then came the blood. it started in small drops leading away from the cabin, barely noticeable against the ice, but as they followed the trail, it became impossible to ignore.
by the time they reached the bonfire pit, the blood was everywhere—frozen into the snow, dark streaks dragged through the dirt. signs of a struggle evident.
panic was almost instant. a headcount was taken. three were missing.
roberta santos ( the pawn )
juno lee ( the bookworm )
bernice thomas ( the promiscuous )
their rooms were empty, beds still made. bags untouched. no one wanted to say it out loud. maybe they had left on their own. maybe they had just stepped out early. maybe it was just some cruel, poorly timed joke.
tension cracked through the group. and paranoia settled in and quickly, old resentments began rising to the surface. this wasn’t just about the three anymore. it was about everything.
who was the last to see them? what was that strange noise last night?
a frantic search began almost immediately. voices called out, muffled by the snow. the storm had taken more than just the road … it had cut them off completely. cell service flickered between one and two bars before disappearing. the landline in the cabin was dead, nothing but static on the other end.
no way to call for help.
then they found it ...
juno lee’s phone, half buried in the snow, the screen still flickering weakly. an unsent message lingered on the screen. four words, typed but never sent.
𝑖𝑡ˊ𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔
the following have 48 hours to post in character or reach out to the main for an extension / utilizing one of their allowed weeks of inactivity
