𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄.
banner
restlessnights.bsky.social
𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄.
@restlessnights.bsky.social
Everything is simple, if you arrange the facts methodically. | MysteryRP; MVRP | MDNI | MATURE themes.
( Lighting himself an Egyptian cigarette: ) Give 'em enough rope and they'll hang themselves. Oldest trick in the book.
December 27, 2025 at 4:27 AM
You sound unsure, Mr. Claus.
December 27, 2025 at 12:58 AM
— 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 —
𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
In which our detective arrives at Halliday's Dart; puffins are considered; a fat accordionist sings; several performances are given, none of which are satisfactory; and our detective receives his first kiss
December 25, 2025 at 12:15 AM
At once he rushed back to the window, throwing it wide open and bending out to look for any further clues above or below. Nothing. Someone had been in the room and left him a gift, and hadn’t bothered to leave a return address. Rathore groaned. How impolite.
December 25, 2025 at 12:14 AM
The note had been scented with an expensive perfume Rathore didn’t know the name of, but could recognize from rich, young socialite girls. Something about the writing felt playful to Rathore - perhaps the way someone had dotted their ‘i’s.
December 25, 2025 at 12:14 AM
slanted enough to suggest motion rather than haste. Rathore noted that the first K was darker, suggesting that it had been written with a freshly uncapped pen. Each letter was clean and rounded, finished without hesitation.
December 25, 2025 at 12:14 AM
taped over quickly in the image with two strips of white tape to form a loose X. It read: 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙺 / 𝙲𝙾𝚂𝚃𝚂 𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂. And below it, in the right-hand corner, had been added in red ink the words ‘𝒦𝒾𝓈𝓈-𝒦𝒾𝓈𝓈’. The handwriting was small and confident,
December 25, 2025 at 12:14 AM
Something oblong and flat, folded over itself. He pulled it out, finding cheap, low-grade wood pulp paper. Thin and dry, not meant to last. Printed simply to be forgotten. He opened it up, finding a blue and white poster with two red lips pursed in a smirk in the middle,
December 25, 2025 at 12:14 AM
he must go to whatever backwater idea of a tailor they had around here and acquire some clothing. He hung up his clothes on the back of the door to his room. He checked his Colt and tucked it beneath his pillow. As he stuck his hand under the pillow, he found something firm pressing back.
December 25, 2025 at 12:14 AM
He tutted and shook his head, mentally scolding himself. He would check the fountain again tomorrow, but he suspected he would find nothing.
He undressed in the dark, sleeping in his underwear. At some point, preferably soon,
December 25, 2025 at 12:14 AM
Anna Burgess had seen something which had cost her her life. At that moment, a thought occurred to Rathore: The fat accordionist had been singing about the very things which Rathore had been anxious about all day. Really, a ring that does not age - how had he not noticed it immediately?
December 25, 2025 at 12:14 AM
All was dark and still; gone were the city lights he normally found beside his bed; the ambience of chatter and cars all throughout the night, swallowed up by the island. Somewhere not far from here, a U-boat had arrived out of the mist, Ray said. Somewhere near here,
December 25, 2025 at 12:14 AM