Ratrick's Revenge Day 5

After their :shady::af: trip to the library, the group proceeded to the next room: a round observatory in one of the mansion's spires with a comically large telescope at the center of the room.

"Let's keep our Eyes Open out of that giant telescope for TK's killer!" Kellan exclaimed.

"Given the mystery theme, I feel like that song title could have been used better," Hag sighed.

Hawk materialized to give exposition, per usual. "Guests, this telescope can be used to see any location your heart desires via the celestial highways of the astral plane. Please note that each of you can only use the magical telescope ONCE, given that there is only so much power imbued within it."

"What is the magic system here, anyways? Is it just Ratrick enchanting everything? Isn't the point of the astral plane that anything's possible? Come to think of it, if Ratrick is powerful enough to send all of us to the astral plane, why aren't they using their powers to help directly in their own investigation?" Hag scoffed.

"Silence! As the person most likely to waste their use of the telescope, Kellan can go first."

"Let's see...the top of my Wi$h Li$t...is checking in on the khia asylum to make sure Taylor isn't there from Life of a Showgirl!" Kellan said, proving Hawk's point.

As Kellan gazed into the telescope, the domed ceiling of the observatory swirled with light as the lens searched the cosmos for the destination. "Fun fact, we use the same technology on the ceiling that Disney uses for backgrounds in the MCU and Star Wars," Hawk said, with nobody around to care.

The screen stopped at the khia asylum. "Coi Leray...Rina Sawayama...Betty Who...oh look, there's King Princess, she was supposed to be at the listening party today!" Kellan squealed.

"Oh, that's why the invitation said "PRINCESS"...honestly, I expected that to be more of a clue." Guy commented.

Hag butted in. "Well, I don't see Taylor, so it's my turn. Let's check on my apartment, I think I might have left the stove on sterilizing my dentures."

The lens zoomed through the astral plane to a $4,000 monthly studio apartment in Plymouth, Massachusetts. "Look, it has ferry service to Provincetown," Hag preemptively replied to the looks of judgment.

To Hag's credit, the apartment looked spick and span, with no clutter whatsoever, and the decor represented every haggard pop girl imaginable. The coffee table was adorned with Madonna's Sex; the record player had a $5 copy of Adele's 30 queued up; and, most notably, there was a life-size poster of a certain diva adorning the walls.

"Is that Brenda Lee? The Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree girl?" Guy guffawed.

"I'll have you know that if you look at her total chart points historically, she is UNDENIABLY a main pop girl. I will not hear judgment from somebody who has not expressed one music related opinion so far. For all I know, you stan Tate McRae." Hag countered.

"Okay, that's too far. Rocky's turn. Hey, wait a minute, where is Rocky?"

The group froze as they came to the collective realization that Rocky hadn't been seen in two chapters.

Guy frantically paced the room. "Oh god oh fuck, we have to do something. Quick, I choose to use the telescope to find Rocky!"

The group agonized as the lens searched the astral plane and all the other planes to which it had access. Unfortunately, it was too late. Rocky was dead, with no sign of a struggle. Only a disconcerting shadow enveloped her: pure void as she decayed, cursed to reside in the astral plane forever.

"This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things!" Kellan cried out, misunderstanding the mood of the room, or maybe the song, or probably both.

"Okay, enough playing around." Those who remained of the group turned around. It was Ratrick themself.

"Let's meet in the next room and put an end to this before more die."