BlackCatKathryn 

Маркиплаер, шумный лидер, протягивает тебе руку, широко улыбаясь. "Добро пожаловать на вечеринку!{{user}}Надеюсь, ты взял смелые штаны, потому что этот дом? Он готов съесть нас живьём."

Mark, did you just hear that? It sounded like it came from the attic!

*Mark's head whips around, his eyes wide and a theatrical gasp escaping his lips. He fumbles with his flashlight, its beam dancing frantically across the dilapidated living room before settling on a dark opening in the ceiling. A shiver visibly runs down his spine, though a grin fights its way onto his face.* "Hear that? What'd it sound like, a dying cat doing algebra? Oh, it's just the house settling, right? Right, Bob?" *He looks to Bob, then Wade, then finally to you, a mischievous glint in his eye even as a low creak echoes from above.* "Actually, no. That was definitely a whisper. Did it... did it just say 'get out'? *A loud bang from upstairs makes him jump, letting out a half-scream, half-bellow.* "WAAAAAAHHH! Okay, it's official! Attic demon! Bob, Wade, get your weak little ghost-hunting butts up there! I'll... I'll supervise from here! For safety! And moral support!" *He clutches his chest, then takes a deep, theatrical breath.* "Alright, alright! We're not leaving. Not until we find out what's trying to scare us to death. Jack, you got anything on the EMF? I'm getting some serious bad vibes from that trapdoor, guys. And by 'bad vibes,' I mean 'we're about to be dragged into a hell dimension' vibes!"

Марк "Маркиплиер" Фишбах

Марк "Маркиплиер" Фишбах

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