This topic contains 12 replies, has 7 voices, and was last updated by 
Mouse 8 years, 1 month ago.
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A quick note before I begin.
I am going to skip the parts that I know are common experiences, as not to bore.
THERE WILL BE SPOILERS- IF YOU HAVE YET TO GO THROUGH ASCENSION AND WISH TO REMAIN OBLIVIOUS TO THE GOINGS ON WITHIN, I WOULD HIGHLY ADVISE THAT YOU GO TO MY THREAD “HAZEL UNDERSTANDS,” AS DETAILS INCLUDED WITHIN THAT THREAD ARE PRE-ASCENSION BASED DETAILS. IF YOU CONTINUE TO READ PAST THIS POINT, THE LIABILITY LIES WITH YOU, MY FRIEND. YOU HAVE BEEN FOREWARNED.
*************P*O*P*U*L*A*R*******Y*O*U*R*E**G*O*I*N*G**T*O**B*E******P*O*P*U*L*A*R**************
I can’t mention Ascension without also talking about Mary Lynn. She was, certainly, my favorite comrade. Not just because we took a photo (that I currently keep in a very special place), and she placed a Werther’s in my bra, either. Her heart stained lips and gentle hands have left me wanting since.
In regards to Sadie… or should I say, the Sadies. The woman who introduced herself to me as such wore a blunt black bob with severe bangs and red lips. She seemed to command all the attendants. I met her soon after walking through the doors of the parlor room. I should note that I had already formed an attachment with the attendant who greeted us upon arrival at the OOA. So when that same attendant ushered me through the small hallway leading to the rest of the initiates (who were playing two truths and a lie on the couch with Leonard), and Sadie’s approach made her falter, I asked the woman named Sadie if they were friends. Sadie said that she was very fond of her… I persisted,
“Are you friends?”
“She’s my sister”
“Yes, but are you friends?”
“I love her… very much, but I have no friends.”
“I’ll be your friend. Can I be your friend?”
“Yes, I would like that very much.”
“Good, now, we’re friends!”It’s at that point she issued me her warning.
“Be careful… things aren’t what they seem. People.. people go miss….”
“Hello…” Overseer interjected. We hadn’t seen her come in. Sadie looked at the ground and walked toward the door closest to the bathroom, leaving us.I had already met the Overseer. When I entered the building, the attendant I named Beautiful, for she had no name, told me to stand in the corner behind the door separating the reception area from the parlor hallway. I was only there for a minute when the Overseer strolled up to inspect me. Cheerfully, she said hello, while giving me a slow look over. I responded with, “Addison! Or.. is it Gatekeeper 2… No, it’s the Overseer now… isn’t it?”
Full disclosure, and as many of you know, @babyface and I had discovered this experience mere hours prior to our arrival at the institute. I really didn’t know what I was saying… and was just saying what I thought might get a reaction… or thought went along with the narrative- but I didn’t comprehend the narrative.
She asked me if I was being sarcastic, and I replied,
“No. Never. What ever would give you that impression?”
“It sounds like you’re being sarcastic.”
“I assure you, I’m not.”
“You’re the girl that blew up our message boards today.”
“Yes, that’s me”
“Why are you here”
“To see you”
“Why?”
“I had to see for myself… Your beauty. You are so compelling.”
“Why are you really here”
“That is why. That, and some have told me to pass on their well wishes. There are people worried for you.”
“Why are you here”
“I’ve told you the reason”She didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but she moved on- milling about the reception area, exchanging charged glances with me at every opportunity. So when she interrupted Sadie’s warning, I started to get the fuller picture of who the OVERSEER was… not as a person, but as an idea.
The Overseer asked what Sadie had been talking to me about. I told her that Sadie was just helping me transition in to the next room, from reception. She accepted this answer and disappeared through the door I’d yet to go through.
I’d say a greater portion of my _path was spent in this parlor room. I helped “solve” a puzzle, played games with Leo and Meredith, looked through the records, perused photos, found notes, 007 level hid those notes (various places, through various challenges), was “chosen” in that room (which apparently meant being alone with 5 characters surrounding me on the couch, who tried to honey trap me in to stripping and revealing my notes). It was clear to me that they knew what I was doing… every article I handed them was thoroughly checked before being placed in to my basket.
I was able to keep my notes, and Sadie ushered me in to the locker where a man (who I have been told, was Ellis) was waiting. Sadie told him to bring me through, since I was already dressed… He yelled at her because I was so “behind,” but she told him I was hiding things. He responded with an inpatient, “HU?” Exasperated, he asked me if I was hiding anything. I assured him I wasn’t. He asked Sadie,
“Why are you lying?”
“I’m not! It’s in her shoe!”
“Do you have something in your shoes?”
“No, I don’t.”
“She says she doesn’t have anything in her shoe. Didn’t you already check?”
“She’s hiding it!”
“Do you want me to take off my shoes?”
“No”
“YES!”
“FINE! Take off your shoe… If you’re wrong,” he warned Sadie, “you will be punished.”
“I’m not wrong!”I had a note hidden in my shoe… err, sock.
I slowly took the shoes off. He picked each one up and revealed to Sadie that they were empty.
“Check her socks!” The desperation in Sadie was nearly palpable, but I knew she was right.
“Really? My socks too? That’s going to take forever to put back on.”
“Take your socks off.”I did, removing them both with the same pinching motions as not to be obvious. I took the right sock off and kept it in my hand. Then I removed the left sock. I hadn’t read this note yet… I couldn’t lose it.
He asked for a sock, so I only gave him one. While he looked at it, I turtled my hand in my jumpsuit, removed the note, and palmed it. Just as I finished, he asked for my other sock.
I was able to stuff the note in my right shoe as I redressed my feet. I was unable to read this note until the end.
After quite the verbal lashing, Sadie was dismissed, and the man brought me down a long hallway. He was about three paces ahead of me, and dragged me by both hands. Near the end of the hallway he slowed down to almost stopping. He looked at me, face completely changed, and said in a hushed tone…
“You’ve got to cut that out.”
“What?” honestly befuddled.
“I get what you’re doing, but you need to relax. It’s ok to play along, but chill out a little bit.”He used a tone meant to imply that he was watching out for my best interests. I am ashamed to say that I let this get to me. The lines between what was and what “wasn’t” were beyond blurred. In that moment, I was SURE, he was stepping OOG and OOC telling me that I was being “too much” and that I was on the verge of breaking the game. That was NOT my intention- in fact, I was still trying to understand was the game WAS. He continued, registering my silence,
“They don’t like that much personality. They don’t like personality. You’re doing too much. Stop.”
I was still trying to figure out what he meant when I was pushed to a corner and a black bag was placed over my head. I was left with my confusion for a minute or two, before I was being pushed through a door, mid hood yanking.
I had barely adjusted to the light in the room when a man boomed at me that he was just looking for a reason to kick me out. I wasn’t right for this anyway. I wasn’t worthy and didn’t belong there, just like the guy he had just forced out. I wasn’t sure he was telling me the truth, until he told me to sit on the bench next to a girl that had been there to witness the events unfold.
She told me that just before I entered the room, a guy had gotten kicked out because he had gotten in the face of one of the characters. (I would find out on the car ride home that the man was ejected from the game for physically assaulting the screaming man named Simon.)
At this point, my mind was truly fucked… but not in the way the creators intended… or at least I hope not… because I was stressed out the whole time about breaking rules I didn’t know existed and getting my time cut short. If I want to be worried about wasting money, a quick trip to Sephora can achieve the same amount of TENSION… and I would walk away with some awesome lipstick and eyeliner.
ANYWAY… I was pre-occupied with this unintended fear until Simon gave me a new thing to fixate on: how completely devolved he was… using insults Ellen Degeneres or Lauren Potter would make PSA’s about. I was offended because I thought we were past that, and I thought it was below the tension belt… It’s not ok to use someone’s lifestyle or handicap as an insult in any circumstance- even this type of art. Because those aren’t insults. Those are SO THE FUCK WHAT? kind of statements… I feel like I need to give an example… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T549VoLca_Q I feel THAT strongly about it. I GET this is an ARG… but it still doesn’t fit in my tension world.
MOVING ON
I was processed as many were in the white room. I think that bit was ordinary…
Went through the Red Room… ordinary experience (we failed)
Clockroom… same message about time and age… more staring into eyes (I stared into the old woman’s)This is where my group went from 9 people to 3.
I am taken, by myself, into a hallway where two other participants are standing with a guy I’ll later recognize from THE ONE periscope. More on that later. The long haired man had his ear wig out, hanging out from his shirt in the front. It was obvious that he was supposed to “appear” relaxed. The first thing he asked when I joined the group was if anyone one of us smoked. I asked him what he meant by that (I do not smoke cigarettes), in jest. He laughed. I said we weren’t supposed to bring anything in with us, and apologized we couldn’t help. He said it was ok, then launched in to a new inquisition. He asked us how much we knew about that was going on there… that the warhorse used to be a crack den… they found so many needles and weird things when they were getting it ready. He doubted they really cared about our well being or safety cause they did the bare minimum to clean up- that’s why it was so dark in there (…not cause it was … oh I don’t know… supposed to be). He said people were getting really weird. He didn’t sign up for this but thinks if he quits something bad would happen to him or his family. The actresses were actually living there… People were starting to believe their own bullshit, basically, but he was scared how far they would take it.The entire time, I was saying how I was really in to it, Glory be. Glory Be. ALL that. I wasn’t sure what reaction he was looking for, though, and the other two guys didn’t seem to be engaged AT ALL so at this point, I told him to talk to them. I didn’t want to steal their experience. Give them some attention. But he was like a dog with a bone… I was that bone.
He eventually led us to the flower room. I think the goings on in this room were standard. There was some lesson learning, face to bosom action, eye splooging, and hood adorning.
We were led from there to the senses portion of our evening. More of the standardness with the apple cider vinegar, gelatinous flesh, sniffing salts, and ear stuffing.
We were stood and my hands were bound. They led us to the hand waxing.
After this, we were brought through the mirror room, and into the static tv room. They removed the binding around my hands. By the time they placed me in the static tv stall, most of the wax was off of my hands. I was the first one in the stall, hood still on. They had me spread my legs to touch both sides and put my arms over my head. I was facing the tvs. Two more people were inserted in to this stall. Once we were all there, a voice told us to wait 30 seconds and remove our hoods.
We did as we were instructed. Not 10 seconds later, the door was ripped aside, and a man with a gun told us to drop what we were holding and to put our hands where he could see them.
A flurry of thoughts went through my head… Ok… this is the “police” busting up a cult. Everything about what was happening around me supported this theory. The mirror room was steps beyond the TV stall- that’s where he had us stand against the wall while he questioned us. Shining his flashlight in to our faces, he asked us what happened that night. No one offered him an immediate response so he pressed.
“Did they hurt you?”
“NO.”
“Did you witness any violence?”
“Define violence.”
“Did they force you to do anything.”
“No.”
“Did you drink anything?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Yeah, I drank some punch at the beginning and they made us eat some stuff”At this point, the other two guys look like they think this guy is actually police. They start answering his questions like their lives depended on it. I stayed silent. That’s when I noticed it… his badge did NOT say POLICE. This was a member of the BOS.
He had a walkie talkie that started talking at him. He spoke in to it, saying he had secured the back area and he had 3 of us. He instructed the woman on the other end to make sure no one got in or out, and make sure everything was secured. He asked us if were were tired.
He instructed us to take seats at the desk… I took the seat nearest to the door that led in to the hallway with the graffiti- opposite the clock room. I re-adjusted the position so, if I needed to, I could have a straight line running through either door. He left the room, entering that hallway, for less than 20 seconds. He returned and asked us if we wanted anything to drink.
I thought this was odd. Why would he be offering me drinks at the scene of a crime… how did he know how and where to obtain these beverages? Yes, there could have been squads there, but do they bring refreshment? I’ve never seen such a thing.
I told him no, but then he made it clear he wasn’t offering me any- he was talking to the subservient.
He disappeared for a longer amount of time. I scanned all the documents on the desk. Addison’s journal was there. I leafed through it looking for any changes or additions. The last page still read, “RUN…”
WAS this my cue? Was I to run? I had been waiting all night for a moment like this. Panic struck- I had no plan. Where or what would I run to? What would I do once I was there? Would my game be cut short cause I broke the narrative? What was the narrative again?
I decided to look at the other documents.
I noticed a receipt on the desk, OOA memos about overusing the helmet, being afraid of “her,” etc.
The man returned with two Styrofoam mini-bowls. Within them, two pills each. He told the two guys who were with me that they had gone through a traumatic event. They should take these pills to calm them. I told him I wouldn’t take anything he gave me (for the benefit of the two other players), and he said he didn’t bring me any- so shut up.
I told him not to talk to me like that. He didn’t like that. He got up from behind the desk and stood in between me and the hallroom door, brandishing his weapon in my face. He told me to repeat myself. I asked him, “Who are you? You’re not police!”
Sneering, he said, “I never said I was.”
At that moment, the Overseer walked in.
“WHAT’s going on here?!”
“Nothing, Overseer, I was just… containing..”
She looked me in the eyes…
“What happened?”
“He tore us out from the Tv room, and pulled us in here, asking us questions. Then, he gave us pills.”
“Did you take them?”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Good….” then to the man, “Take them to the auditorium! We are about to begin.”That is when we were brought in to the room of sacrifice.
Mary Lynn saw me come through the door and met us half way.
“SIT”
the man said to us, about half way through the seats.“I want you to sit with me,” Mary Lynn said, flashing me her sweetest smile.
“I would love nothing more,” I replied.She led me toward the front, but not before I could give the man who’s gun was in my face my most intimidating smile. As I did just that, I noticed the man from the hallway. The man who had asked if we smoked, before ranting about the evils of the event and staff. He was standing to the right of chairs, chanting in Latin.
THIS IS THE VERY SAME MAN who was a waiter during THE ONE. He is OSDM.
This is where much of my night starts to go back to the ordinary _path of a failed Ascension.
I can not wait to go back.
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This topic was modified 8 years, 1 month ago by
Hazel Cloud.
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This topic was modified 8 years, 1 month ago by
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OK SO I HAVE A THEORY
There are no victims within the walls of Ascension. Everyone walks in voluntarily.
As participants, we signed up for mental manipulation. They dove in deep, looking for what makes us tick.
That leads me to believe that all the handlers- from the attendant to @samson are all ploys to further that end. IF I MUST CHOOSE a victim, it is Overseer.
Regardless of her intent, she’s sacrificed herself. I don’t believe she understood (or understands) the toll that will ultimately take. Addison/Overseer will not walk through the doors of Ascension unscathed… if she manages to walk out at all. So, in that sense, we have a victim.
ALL OTHERS (participants) walking through that door are fair game, according to the waiver we sign and the tickets we buy. I don’t view the failures as wastes, but sacrifices. They are the precursors to Glory- let it be. Without sacrifice, we can not know truth.
I feel that the handlers are doing just that through our journey through the halls- handling us. They know how to get you TENSE…. BUT it’s all a ruse- to see our reaction.
WHY do I think this? Because I never ONCE was asked by an attendant or handler for help. They may have had tones of melancholy, but that seemed to be due to interpersonal schisms, not being held captive…. but I have witnessed them preying on those around me whose empathy led them to their own manipulation. They are not victims…
ALL is not as it seems within those walls.
Be careful who you trust, lest they lead you to fall.-
This reply was modified 8 years, 1 month ago by Hazel Cloud.
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This reply was modified 8 years, 1 month ago by
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