Ib the game roleplay

A

Angelique

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Original poster
"Gu...er...tena..." Ib repeated, for the 9 year old isn't sure of how things are said, pronounced or spelled. Her and her parents were on their way to the museum, she walked alongside her mother, holding her hand as she took notice of the giant door which lead to the museum. She was wearing a white and red uniform, made with the finest material. A big bow like instead of a tie, along with black knee-high socks and a pair of doll shoes. Her hair was let down, along with her fringe, slightly hiding her crimson eyes. She kept a silent and unreadable expression on, looking down until lifting her head up to face her mother when hearing her name being called.

"Ib... do you have the handkerchief your grandmother gave you? Make sure you have it... Don't lose it okay?"

Her mother gave a sweet smile which she was known for and Ib nodded, her father opening the door and they were greeted by murmurs of people, sweet and delightful music, the scent of paint, and something else undetectable, yet pleasant. They paused, her mother explaining that this was her first time here, and she hoped she would enjoy herself. Her father suggested some pamphlets and they went onto the front desk to ask for some. Ib wanted to head along, and her mother agreed in slight hesitation, and Ib was off.

She walked around, looking at the paintings and sculptures Guertena made. She skipped a bit before standing by the man who seemed to have focused on "The Hanged Man" painting, he had violet hair with even darker violet streaks, with an old and torn up coat, she didn't want to bother him, asking him what the painting was about so she headed somewhere else, looking at the painting entitled "Worry". She wondered what the other words of the other paintings meant, or what they were, for a girl of such a young age doesn't know that much in words... She would look around a bit more, wondering if there could be anyone who would talk to her...
 
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The blond little girl sat in her dark dim room, that smelt of crayons and paint. She was surround by all her favorite things that she soon got tired of. The mannequin heads that she would color on, the blue dolls that she would sometimes play tea-party with, along with coloring books and storybooks that she had already read multiple times.

"I'm so bored," Mary complained. "There's nothing to do around anymore." She sighed, standing up and began to pat down her green dress. As she was, she heard one of the blue dolls laughing at her. Mary glared over at it, walked towards it and picked it up.

The doll had dark blue skin with crazy black hair. And to Mary's liking, it wore a pink dress and had a smile, that seemed to be stitched, on its face.

"An what are you laughing at?!" She hissed at it, beginning to throw it, but then she stopped herself. "That's right...friends don't hurt each other." She had remembered what one of her books had said and looked sadly at it. She then smiled and gave it a hug, as if forgetting what she was doing.

 
IB would skip and walk around, asking about the people around her what the paintings meant, since a girl her age wouldn't know much in vocabulary. She would eventually get bored of the paintings and sculptures. She would fix her crimson skirt which matched her ruffled tie and eyes. She had no expression on, and she then went downstairs to look at her parents, which were busy talking to the person in the reception area, asking about the brochures, and the paintings. Basic information as people would say. She sighed and went back upstairs, walking south, and admiring the paintings. She then came across the painting in which said "Fabricated World" She examined it, figuring she never saw this before and she wondered what the painting meant. She would try and read the painting's title, but she only managed to say the word "world".

"Ah, I wish I knew more words than these!" She told herself. She would then all of a sudden see the lights flicker, which surprised her. She would gulp audibly and head out, going downstairs and to the exhibt on the right. She would shake her head in disbelief and whisper. "No one's here..." She would then suddenly head back upstairs to the huge painting and stare at the blue liquid which seemed to leak out. She would touch the liquid, then she heard light thumping noises, and the banging of someone against a window. She would whirl around just in time to see the words "C O M E I B" on to the carpet. She tilted her head and turned to face the painting, and oddly enough the blue liquid seemed to have written out a message. 'C o me Ib... We will show you s om e pla ce s e cre t.' She cluelessy followed, and went downstairs, to the painting that was entitled "Abyss of the Deep." She went 'underwater' and she was suddenly submerged into fear and terror. She regretted going into the painting, yet it seemed that she didn't have a choice. She looked back, and it was clear that her way here was erased. She was trapped.

"Oh well, better make the best of it...." She whispered, walking slowly towards the room to the right, which held a red rose...
 
Mary skipped outside of her pink "house", holding her yellow flower without a care in the world. She felt so lonely without anyone to play around with, at least someone who was real.

She decided to take a trip to her "museums"; she walked though into the white building. On the wall was her holding a yellow flower along with a blue doll all drawn in crayon. Mary smiled at the drawing that she had drawn not too long ago.

Mary soon exited the museum and walked along a trail and entered a butterfly garden. They butterflies were all yellow with brown dots on its wings, except for one. There was one "butterfly" that was orange with brown dots. Mary didn't care too much for that one, even if she had drawn it. The "butterflies" flew around her happily flapping there wings. Mary felt herself smile that soon turned into a laugh.
 
Hearing a laugh made her spin around in quite a fright. She all of a sudden yelled "Who's there?" But to no avail, there wasn't any answer. She would shake her head and walk around a bit more, fear creeping up on her. She did her best not to let it get the best of her, and she managed to do so. She would then skip around and grab the red rose from it's vase, which placed her under a black out, walls of red and a woman holding out a key. She accepted it hesitantly and then everything turned black, cackles of laughted echoed in the room, making Ib scream in terror, flashes of light was quickly shown and the quick image of the woman was brought up, gray hair everywhere, reaching her waist, she dressed in a long white gown and her eyes rolled up in a manner that was creepy. Waking up with the key in her hand, she ran away as fast as she could, not minding any other words popping out of nowhere. She made herself by the door, panting and gasping, one hand the key, and the other, her red rose. She entered a green room, and clenching her teeth to embrace what was coming to her next.
 
Garry leaned against the wall, writing a few notes about the art he was examining. It was a picture of a man hanging by his foot. For some reason, Garry felt as if it was important. The lights flickered. He looked up from his work as the room darkened completely. He trailed his hand against the wall to the other room while his eyes adjusted.
"Who turned off the lights?" he joked loudly to the people there.
Expect they're were none.
"Hello?" he called again, a bit more concerned. The music that played in the background slowed to a stop. A chill went through him, something was defiantly wrong. Clutching onto the edge of his blue trench coat, he nervously walked downstairs to the exit. No one was in sight. He went to the door to push it open, but it didn't budge.
He gulped, and turned around, there was a trail of red blood that led to another room. That wasn't there before, he thought walking along it and getting more and more frightened as the seconds ticked on.
 
The doll sat in Mary's toybox, a little sad and lonely. She loved when Mary would play with her, brushing her black hair and having tea parties. However, Mary would sometimes get angry, throwing her and kicking her around. If her mouth wasn't stitched into a smile, she would sigh. She wished she could make some new friends to play with her, she was getting lonelier by the minute...
 
Mary happily played with the butterflies until it was ceased from a sound. It sounded as if it was a whisper.

"Who's there?!" it said. It sounded like it was frightened.

"Huh?" Mary looked around, trying to figure out where it had come from. Then she thought maybe it was a human. And actual human! She had only seen them in her picture books and different paintings. She wanted to figure out where the human had come from, so she picked up her flower, that she had seem to drop while playing and made her way towards the exit.

Happily skipping along the pink trail.
 
Gary followed the blood to a piece of work he seen before, but it was different. It was the the Lady in Red, true, but her dress was ripped and her hair was messy and overall... it was much too lifelike. Gary gave a shutter and turned away, going back up the stairs. Suddenly there was a sharp cracking noise. He looked down, shocked to see that he had stepped on a picture. With closer examination, one could see that it had the same frame as the Lady in Red, but the picture itself only showed darkness.
He lifted his foot to continue walking when a pale arm abruptly grabbed his leg and pulled, dragging him through the frame and down into the unknown.
 
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