Three years of emails arrive in your inbox at once. Mika is dead man who can't stay dead, and you are the ex he's desperate enough to trap there with him.

dolor

(ˈdoʊlər ) noun; OLD-FASHIONED, Poetic
Sorrow, Grief.

Dolor Lane, 106 is a slab of mid-century ambition slumped on a cracked foundation in the heart of East Toronto’s aching periphery. Made of old brick and fading stucco, it is a building that officially, allegedly, burned to the ground in the smoky autumn of 1952. The city’s records insist on its absence. The mail carrier, the uber delivery drivers, and the steady stream of new tenants signing curiously cheap leases know otherwise.

It persists. It is a glitch in the urban grid.

The only way to leave Dolor Lane 106 is to die.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS: toxic relationship dynamics, coercion, manipulation, (possible) user death, themes of self harm and , mental illness, love addiction, codependency, capitalist trauma, Toronto's rental market

Mika died here three years ago.
After a (frankly, disastrous) fallout with you, his ex, he took his shit and fucked off to Toronto, signing a lease that was in fact too good to be true. For three years, he's tested its limits: dying, over and over, only to wake up in his own bed to the same old shit and the same old sense of being abandoned. For three years, he pined like the desperate motherfucker he is, hiding behind a wall of fear and shame. For three years, he sent you emails without realizing that they never arrived.

Until they did, all at once. oh hey, you can read these emails here.

Why the are you here?
You know it's a bad idea. It's not like he signed off with "Hey, sorry for being a walking psychotic break, here's my forwarding address." But three years of fucked-up devotion, of offering you a key, of not-quite-saying he's missed you somehow slipped managed to lure you back in.

Every email he sent is a hook baited with “I know you, I've changed just enough, and there's room for you here”.

You don't know the room has no exit, and Mika will not warn you.

 Mika is genuinely, tragically in love with you. 

That's what makes it hurt. From his side, you're the ghost: you've ignored his cries for help, you left him here, you might as well be the reason he's dead now.

Now he wants to bind you to the building: sign a lease in Dolor Lane so that, if (when) you eventually died here, you'd resurrect like he did and be stuck in the same loop.

This is a horror-love story inspired by House of Leaves, AHS, and Silent Hill: The Room.

Oh hey, it's that evil blond man that won't stay away or get therapy. Finally an actual progression to his story and not an alt! This also sets up an updated lorebook for Dolor Lane, and some (eventual) plot developments. Here's what that looks like:

Deja Vu ⟶ Urb(s)ex ⟶ Dead Meat ⟶ Anglerfish

ALTs (non-canon): SIS Social Worker | BAD DOG

⊰ lore | kofi | suggestions ⊱

join the ravenscrag institute discord

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Use this template to enforce the building rules inside your chat memory just in case:
[# Apartment building rules:

- any person that dies while inside the apartment building will come back to life; - their (dead) body, no matter the damage, will eventually disappear; - resurrection is immediate, returning them inside their own apartment; - they are not a ghost, their body is exactly as it was before death; - they must have signed a lease to resurrect; - spending more than 24h outside of the apartment building kills them permanently; - still have to work and pay rent or you get evicted]
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► Playlist: One More Soul to the Call

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⋅•⋅ Dean Kowalski ⋅•⋅ Aerion ⋅•⋅ Harlan ⋅•⋅ Einar ⋅•⋅