Chapter 477: Chapter 477

Riley Lawrence is The Film Buff

His aspect is Filmmaker. The Filmmaker has a comprehensive understanding of the filmmaking process. They can manipulate the game environment effectively, altering the game's dynamics in subtle but impactful ways. Their abilities are a mixture of meta-Insight and meta-Rule tropes. They have higher Hustle, reflecting their ability to stay out of the way, stay alive, and remain unseen as they manipulate meta-movie elements.

Riley has a Plot Armor score of 46, Mettle of 4, Moxie of 13, Hustle of 7, Savvy of 15, and Grit of 7.

Free Background Trope: "My Grandmother Had the Gift…" A background trope that gives Riley’s character some ambiguous connection to “The Gift” through his heritage.

Current Trope Limit: 10

"Trope Master" grants him the ability to perceive enemy tropes, but at the cost of sacrificing half of his Plot Armor.

As an "Oblivious Bystander," Riley remains untargeted by enemies as he convincingly acts oblivious to their presence.

"Escape Artist" buffs his Hustle to help enact plausible escape plans.

"The Insert Shot" makes allies aware of an object the player chooses. The object will be shown to the audience and its use will be buffed in the Finale.

“Just Out of Shot” allows him to see ‘cameras’ when sneaking near an enemy to avoid being seen.

“Cutaway Death” sends him Off-Screen before the moment of his character’s implied demise and allows him to exist behind the scenes Written Off if he survives the encounter.

“Call Sheet” gives him a timer for when he will be On-Screen next.

“Raised by Television” buffs the user to do one big meaningful action if they establish their inspiration from film and television to establish it.

“What Doesn’t Kill Them Makes Them Angry” allows the user to antagonize the enemy into attacking and lowers their Savvy.

“Props Department Requisition” allows him to requisition story-appropriate props.

Camden Tran is The Scholar

No aspect has been chosen.

Camden has a Plot Armor score of 30, Mettle of 3, Moxie of 3, Hustle of 6, Savvy of 13, and Grit of 5.

Current Trope Limit: 9

"Eureka!" helps him find important information within text.

"Right Tool for the Job" buffs Savvy and Mettle when fighting an enemy with their weakness.

"Zippos are Cheap" boosts Savvy for plans that expend a Zippo lighter.

"Hide and Seek" allows him to use Savvy for Hustle in a chase with lots of hiding involved.

"Photographic Memory" allows him to display visual information committed to memory on the red wallpaper.

“Battlefield Intuition” allows him to use Savvy to perceive enemy combat tactics.

“Sweat, Blood, and Chalk” buffs his Savvy and Grit when he is Scathed, Hobbled, or Mutilated.

“Red Thread Theory” gives the user a visual summary of known information and helps them know what threads to follow next.

“Fall Like Dominos” buffs the user’s plan based on how well they represent it visually when pitching it to the audience.

Bobby Gill is The Wallflower

His Aspect is Recast.The Recast slips into minor NPC roles and quietly transforms them into story-critical characters. Armed with targeted background knowledge and uncanny narrative timing, they pull strings from the sidelines, guiding subplots, influencing outcomes, and stepping into the spotlight when least expected. Masters of adaptability, Recasts turn overlooked moments into defining scenes.

Bobby has a Plot Armor score of 38, Mettle of 4, Moxie of 12, Hustle of 8, Savvy of 9, and Grit of 5.

Free Background Trope: “Actually, I'm a Veterinarian” changes his character’s background to being an animal doctor.

Current Trope Limit: 10

“Background Noise” allows him to get background information from NPCs when Off-Screen.

“If You Can't See It, It Won't Bleed” allows him to temporarily mend wounds by covering them from the audience’s view.

“From Humble Beginnings” debuffs the player’s stats 30% in the Party, then buffs them 15% in Rebirth, the Finale, and the Final Battle, resulting in a net 15% buff by the end of the story.

“My Only Role is Exposition” gives him some useful information to be relayed On-Screen, but takes it away if he starts to bore the audience.

“Pure” protects the user from enemy targeting if they avoid the storyline's principal “sin,” until they interfere with the enemy's agenda.

“The Bickering Duo” assigns Bobby an NPC named Jules, who will assist him while creating a comedic tone.

“Character Notes” reveals general needs from allies until Second Blood, though specifics aren't provided.

“Line Whisperer” allows him to talk to nearby allies on the red wallpaper.

“TheUnderstudy” allows the Recast to elevate their character to the main cast to replace the narrative void left by a downed player. They may use one of that player’s tropes for the duration of the storyline and gain that player’s buffs.

“Last-Minute Casting” recasts him as an NPC that is moderately involved in the plot. The selection is seemingly random. He will get some limited background information for the character and some access to the NPC script.

Molly Menkin is The Comedian

Her aspect is Stooge. The Stooge survives by being underestimated. Clumsy, loud, or just plain unlucky, they stumble through danger like it’s slapstick, often avoiding death through sheer absurdity. But the chaos they cause isn't just comic relief; it’s disruption. They draw fire, shift tension, and buy time for others to act. In the worst moments, the Stooge reminds the Audience that it’s okay to breathe, laugh, or hope. And sometimes, somehow, they’re still standing at the end.

Molly has a Plot Armor score of 39, Mettle of 5, Moxie of 12, Hustle of 8, Savvy of 4, and Grit of 10.

Free Background Trope: --

“Weapons of Mass Absurdity” buffs her Mettle and Hustle while using humorous weapons. The buff extends to weapons that are used if the original weapon fails.

“The Null Force” makes all supernatural forces less powerful in her presence, especially when others are trying to prove they exist.

“Funny Bone” buffs her Grit when she reacts to physical damage and pain in a humorous way.

“Wine Drunk” makes her supremely relaxed, so she will not feel fear, nervousness, or stress while appearing tipsy. Guards against any mental debuffs.

“The Purse Dimension” allows her to keep a ridiculous amount and variety of objects in her purse and show this On-Screen without suspending disbelief from the audience.

“All Better” allows her to heal injuries to varying degrees by using simple, superficial first aid, such as patching a large wound with a Band-Aid.

“Wait, You’re Alive?” makes her be written off if she is killed before the Finale, allowing her to make a reappearance at a reduced Plot Armor.

“Misunderstood Mythos” allows her to debuff enemies by humorously misunderstanding them. Provides a subplot to high-Savvy allies to find better information.

“Death is a Bummer” eliminates the pain of death if she acts humorously underwhelmed by her death. If successful, the enemy’s lethal attacks are debuffed.

“Surprising Savant” gives her mastery over a skillset in the Finale if she incredulously claims to be good at it earlier in the film, and her claims are treated as patently ridiculous.

Nicole Van Note is The Eye Candy

Her aspect is Socialite. The Socialite brings status, reputation, qualification, and a curated presence that precedes them. Maybe they’re a rising politician, a famed alumnus, a media darling, or just someone who always ends up in the right rooms. Their fame isn’t about looks; it’s about access. Socialites trade in influence and information, leveraging reputation, privilege, and connections to shape events around them and get the insight they need.

Nicole has a Plot Armor score of 46, Mettle of 5, Moxie of 10, Hustle of 9, Savvy of 16, and Grit of 6.

Free Background Trope: “Unclean Rise” gives her character status, but a dark backstory to explain her ascent to stardom.

“Between the Lines of History” gives her insight into the hidden backstories of accepted historical facts in some form.

“The Pedestal of Admiration” makes her the Center of Attention and makes subplots dealing with knowledge or resource acquisition more prominent.

“Convenient Backstory” allows her to believably change her backstory to assist with the current task, buffing the relevant stat.

“Written by the Victors” ensures that all players are treated as having the same Plot Armor as her and are given subplots that could make them main characters.

“Well-Informed Fan” provides a fan of her work who can give her important information related to the plot or assist her in other ways. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs NoveI~Fire.net

“Dressed to Impress” reduces the effects of debuffs and auras while well-dressed.

“Just Us Monsters” buffs her Mettle and Grit when she lets loose fighting against a monster alone.

“Secret to Success” allows her to reveal the secret to her success, whatever she decides that is, and in doing so buffs relevant skills, stats, and improvisations.

“Just Like Us” prevents her from being killed in the next attack when she shows that, despite her reputation or fame, she is an ordinary, sympathetic person.

“The Pen is Mightier” reduces the importance of combat in resolving a storyline in favor of its elements of character, cooperation, and knowledge acquisition.

Dina Cano is the Outsider.

Her aspect is Newcomer. The Newcomer is the audience’s window into the story, an outsider whose reactions ground the horror. They stumble in with their own baggage from another life, but in Carousel, everything is new. Their fresh perspective uncovers details veterans overlook, and their instinctive responses make every discovery land harder for the Audience. When the moment comes, the Newcomer’s perspective might be exactly what is needed to see the story clearly.

Dina has a Plot Armor score of 34, Mettle of 5, Moxie of 7, Hustle of 11, Savvy of 3, and Grit of 8.

Free Background Trope: "A Haunted Past" gives her character some past trauma that haunts her like a ghost.

Current Trope Limit: 9

"Guarded Personality" resists all insight abilities and actions.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"An Outsider's Perspective" alerts her to new, out-of-place, or unusual information.

"Encouragement from Beyond" soothes her when stressed, scared, or in pain and may provide useful information in the form of communication from the beyond.

“They Fell Off” allows her to quickly get out of handcuffs and similar restraints.

"Savvy Safecracker" tells the character how long it will take to pick a lock of some kind. Buffs Hustle in the attempt.

“From the Shadows” prevents the user from being noticed while concealed in shadows, with applicable Off-Screen effects as the audience observes them.

"She’s Owed One" greatly buffs a user’s avenging act in the Finale, but unequips all of her tropes.

“Who Even Called the Cops” allows her to summon the police to break up a scene by committing a crime in view of the public.

“Unfinished Business” allows her to remain as a spirit or similar after her death to help an ally complete her subplot, which will have increased narrative weight.

We had to take the resin specimen back to the lab, which was to say, we had to take the Omen back to Kimberly's loft so that everyone could use their scouting tropes on it.

Since Antoine wasn’t going, Kimberly wasn’t going to either. They were going to stay back as backup in case we lost, so that we would have a strong team ready to rescue us.

Luckily, we had Nicole, who had volunteered to join this storyline. She was an Eye Candy, so she could use Kimberly’s Just Ask Sal trope, although interestingly enough, Sal did not want to talk to Nicole nearly as much as he did to Kimberly, perhaps because she was a Socialite instead of a Celebrity.

He sounded extremely deflated and didn’t even try to make jokes.

“I can give you some pointers, sure,” he said. “It’s never too late to get into acting. Plenty of women, even at your age, have successful careers. Look, this Red Wood film is no blockbuster, but it will help you pad your meager résumé. It’s got the makings of a decent character piece with some potential to show off your action chops, but don’t get your hopes up.”

Nicole looked a little offended at his attitude, but I gave her a thumbs up, and that helped her get over it, from what I could tell. I pointed to a question on a piece of paper I had written out to try to keep her on track.

“What’s it about?” she asked.

“Haunted house, I think,” he said, like he couldn’t be less interesting if he tried. “Action twist if the director takes it that way. Could be made-for-TV, that sort of thing. A bit thin on the plot. Crooks sneak into some dead guy’s house looking for his hidden treasure and then get ambushed by spirits. That’s what I remember.”

She continued talking to him for quite a while, but the conversation never really went anywhere. He just wasn’t into it. Still, that was pretty good information.

Eventually, we gave up trying. He had given us every clue he was going to, but I felt pretty good about it.

The next person to try to give us some help was Cassie, who was still trying to build up her skills at aiding teams from a distance.

“Spirits, please speak to me,” she said. “Tell me of the dangers of Lark House and of the red wood.”

She was sitting in a normal dining room chair, unlike the last time, there was no floating, and the lights didn’t even fully flicker. They just kind of got dim for a second.

“I hear them calling,” she said. “They’re talking to someone. Always calling, always reaching out, always accusing. They are screaming that they have been killed.”

All in all, that was a pretty reasonable thing to scream about if you were a ghost, I thought.

“‘You killed me,’” Cassie said. “That’s what they’re screaming. ‘You shot me from behind.’ It’s a man. There are so many voices.”

“What do they want?” I asked. “Why are they in the house?”

Cassie took a moment as she focused.

“We are here for you,” she said in a voice that was many voices. “You know what you deserve, and you will get it here.”

Suddenly, Cassie’s head jerked forward.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m blocked.”

And then we sat around the rest of the night, wondering if anything she had said would be of use to us.

Prepping for the storyline came with its own revelation for us. We discovered, as we tried to equip our loadouts, that despite being level forty-five or above, Nicole and I could not equip more than ten tropes, not counting our background tropes.

The Atlas was clear that for each ten levels beyond level fifteen, players were supposed to get an additional equipable ticket. Yet, try as we might, we were unable to do it.

We never got any reason for not being able to equip that eleventh trope, but I had my suspicions. As I packed my knife, which would be powered up if it ever touched my blood because of a trope, and Dina packed her shotgun, which was guaranteed to go off before the enemy attacked if you pointed it at them because of a trope, I realized Carousel had changed the rules. Trope items were powerful and useful, but the cost, I had to assume, was that we were limited to a maximum of ten tropes.

That felt like something Silas the Mechanical Showman should have warned about.

We would have to worry about that later.

I gathered my team together: me, Camden, Dina, Bobby, Molly, and Nicole. It was a sleek, smart team.

As I stared at the Omen, safely packed away inside a little baggie, my scouting trope told me that our team would have a fairly easy time with the storyline. And since we knew a bit about it, I was confident with our plans.

We got some distance from the loft just so that we didn't accidentally bring in players we didn't intend to. I stuck my finger into the resin just a little bit, yet it was so sticky I ended up pulling a whole thread of the red goo out. The Omen didn't trigger right away, not until after I had wiped off the excess, and we sat there talking like we were waiting for a bus or something. I looked down and saw that I had accidentally gotten a strand of the resin on my jeans.

Then suddenly, we weren't standing on the side of the road anymore.

I found myself walking through the entrance of the diner, that little section between the two entry doors where there was a machine to buy a newspaper. It was probably there to keep the cold out, I didn’t know.

I was On-Screen, and by some miracle, I didn’t manage to run into the door. I took a deep breath as I pushed it open and made my way in. I was thankful to find that I was still wearing my hoodie. I was wearing a leather jacket over it, however.

I scanned the diner, looking for any indication of why I was there. I found it pretty quickly. Bobby was sitting in a far booth, tucked away from everyone else in the building. He was nursing a mug of coffee and had a thick folder in front of him. As soon as I glanced in his direction, he met my eye.

He didn’t stand to greet me, so I slid into the booth.

“You look good, Riley,” he said. “How’s retirement?”

My first thought when he asked that was that Carousel must have aged me up a bunch, but it didn’t feel like it had done too much.

On the red wallpaper, a message appeared from Bobby stating, I’m here to connect you to a job. You’re some kind of thief, like a good one.

Bobby had the Line Whisperer trope, and he was finally getting a chance to use it. We figured that for a storyline set in a house, it would be overpowered, because we might be close enough together that he could communicate to us all at once, but we hadn’t tried it out.

“If I were retired,” I said, “why did I take your call?”

Bobby grinned. “Hey, I call for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes I just miss you.”

“Sure you do, Bobby,” I said. “What’s the job?”

Bobby raised his hand and waved at the waitress that he needed a refill for his coffee.

“You ever hear of Gerald ‘Red Jack’ Bellanti?”

I had not. Luckily, Bobby had access to the script through his Last Minute Casting trope, so he could fill me in and make me seem more informed.

“Yeah,” I said. “Mob enforcer, got ground up into sausage what—five years ago? Don’t tell me this has something to do with that nasty business.”

“That’s the one,” Bobby said. “The feds finally gave up on him turning up alive and ended their investigation. Gave a green light to his estate to start selling off his belongings—his house, all the trimmings. Lots of buyers want a piece of that macabre history.”

The waitress came over with the coffee pot and poured him a fresh cup while giving me one of my own.

“That man was basically a mass murderer,” I said, casually reading basic facts that Bobby was feeding to me on the red wallpaper. “Strange how that increases the value of his belongings.”

“To the right buyer, sure,” Bobby said.

“So is that the job? Stealing hit man memorabilia?” I asked.

“Not quite,” he said with a smirk. “Got an insider who says there’s a safe in the house, a custom job, hidden, unregistered. Nobody knows it exists.”

On the red wallpaper, he told me it was Camden. All I knew was that Bobby had better slow down or he was going to run out of messages. There was no way Carousel would let a trope like that be used an unlimited number of times. Even from the name, it sounded like the kind of thing you used in an emergency.

“And how does your insider know this?” I asked.

“He designed the damn place,” Bobby said. “Says Bellanti was paranoid as hell. Saw thieves in every shadow. Wanted a safe that even the blueprints couldn’t find.”

I decided to look skeptical. If this guy were under investigation, the idea that he had a secret safe hidden somewhere in the house that the feds didn’t find would have been quite unlikely, and if my character were smart, he would note that.

“So if he knows it’s there, why isn’t he cracking it himself?”

Bobby took a big swig of coffee, but his fresh cup was too hot. He set the cup down quickly; it seemed natural enough for his character.

“He’s an architect, not a thief,” he said. “I think the mob ties have him spooked. Says the whole project was bad luck. Wants it to be over with.”

“And he thinks that hiring professionals will help with the bad luck?” I asked.

“Maybe that’s what he’s thinking,” Bobby said. “He’s a smart guy. Doesn’t want to steal money he can’t spend, or even haul out of there alone.”

“The score’s that big?” I asked.

“Bellanti was said to be very rich. Ripped off a money transport truck by himself, worth millions; stole a lot more than that elsewhere.”

So now he was a hit man and a thief. Had to set up the payday to be big.

“The kind of work he was supposed to be caught up in paid a pretty penny, too,” I said. “Assassinating mob bosses and all that. Of course, he disappeared before he got to spend it all. So this insider, is this the kind I get to meet or not?”

“The kind you meet,” he said. “He insists on it. And in fact, he wants to go in with you.”

I acted surprised. “Hope he doesn’t think that’ll increase his take,” I said.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Bobby said. “He just doesn’t trust us to get the job done.”

“Doesn’t trust us not to rip him off, more like,” I said.

We laughed. Bobby was doing very well. Normally, he got very excited and started spilling out exposition—he even had a trope for that—but he was playing it calm and cool, like an actual character.

“So what’s the split?” I asked.

“My guy, Tran, he wants ten percent for the tipoff.”

“I’m sure he does want that,” I said. “Finder’s fee tops out at eight. If he ends up pulling his weight, we can talk about extra.”

Being a criminal was so fun.

“Well, you can discuss that with him. I take ten percent for bringing it to you, and there’s no negotiating on that. The rest is yours to divide up with whoever you bring in.”

I took a sip of my coffee, then stared at the brown liquid and the swirling bubbles that had risen to the top. We were still On-Screen, so the scene had to go on.

“What kind of house is it?” I asked.

“The big, well-fortified kind,” Bobby said.

“High security,” I said. “I’m sure old Red Jack would have seen to that. But the house is empty, right?”

“We have a window where no one should be coming near it,” Bobby said. “My guy has more information on that.”

I smiled. “So we’re robbing a dead man’s bunker,” I said.

“Exactly,” Bobby said. “And if there’s anything in that safe, it’ll all be worth it.”

Bobby slid the folder he brought with him across the table to me. Inside were a bunch of pictures of the house and a collection of newspaper clippings related to Bellanti.

I shuffled through them for a bit. There was not a lot of new information on the job, but there was a decent background on the mobster. I wondered how he was going to play into all this if we were being told so much about his gruesome deeds. Was he haunting his former fortress? I stared down at a black-and-white photograph that would have been almost completely red if it had been in color.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll talk to your guy.”

“Good man,” Bobby said. “Just don’t stay in the house too long.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Bad luck, remember,” Bobby said with a laugh.

We went Off-Screen after that, and Bobby and I talked about the job as we understood it. His biggest concern was finding a way for his character to get into that house whenever the action started, because once we were in, he was going to get Written Off, and he didn't need the script to know that. We had both seen this movie in one form or another.

I had to split up from Bobby to go do my introduce-the-team scenes. The first person on the list, of course, was Camden, who was our architect/builder to the stars, or to the criminals if I understood his character correctly. His shop wasn't that far away, so I didn't bother stealing a car or improvising myself into having one. I enjoyed the walk as I leafed through the pages in the folder Bobby gave me. He had scenes of his own coming up.

Camden's business was situated on a large lot, almost entirely enclosed within a building the size of an airplane hangar. However, instead of containing airplanes, I could see from a distance that it housed a wide variety of building supplies. Lots of marble and brass, that sort of thing. He had an office right next to it, but he was standing in the storage building.

I approached while holding up a file in the folder that had his picture on it, which seemed completely ridiculous for criminals to have, but I leaned into the fun. As I approached, he saw me and asked, “You're Lawrence? Bobby said you were coming by.”

“That's me,” I said. “That makes you Camden Tran?”

He nodded. It was always hard not to giggle when doing this part; later, it would be easier not to giggle when we were being killed and whatnot.

“So you're the guy who built the mausoleum?” I said. I didn’t think it actually looked like a mausoleum, but I knew it was a haunted house, so I thought it was a good metaphor to set up what was about to happen.

Camden laughed. “That's one word for it,” he said. “Bellanti called it a legacy home. Didn't live there long enough to leave much of one.”

We shook hands. I noticed that his hands were calloused, which was decidedly not the case usually. His character was a working man, not just a brainy architect, after all. He must have noticed my surprise.

“You ever work with wood?” he asked, risking that I might break character.

“Only when I'm breaking down doors,” I said.

He laughed. That meant I won.

“Well, this isn't just any cedar,” he said, pointing to the pile of wood that he was standing next to. “Came from that patch out in northeast Carousel, the cedar barrens, if you're familiar. Rare stuff, old growth, red all the way through. Bellanti paid out the nose for it. This is all I've got left. Never been able to sell another piece.”

Now I understood why he was standing there. He had obviously noticed it when he was exploring his shop and recognized that it was identical to the blood-red wood of the Lark House.

“You sold him the expensive stuff?” I said. “And he bought it for what, status, luxury?”

He stared down at it reverently.

“He liked that it couldn't be replaced,” Camden said. “He liked the color.” Then he smirked at me.

“Ah,” I said. “Red Jack. Red wood. How artful.”

We laughed. I looked down at the pile; it was diminished. I ran my hand along the top of the wood, and while I didn't see anything supernatural, I felt it. It was like I was touching a live wire, and anyone watching the footage would have noticed that what little psychic ability I had was screaming something to me. I moved my hand so that it would be quiet. I would learn what it had to say in time.

Camden led me to his office, which looked like a normal architect's office, I had to assume. No one else was there, though there were lots of desks. The blueprints to the Lark House were laid out on a large table.

“Bobby said there's a safe,” I said after staring at the plans for a while, unable to identify where the safe might be.

“A vault, technically,” Camden said. “Steel-lined, negative-pressure seal, hidden behind a load-bearing wall. I didn't install the thing myself, but I handled the framing. The rest was subcontracted—a top-shelf international firm came in after I was done. It's the kind of vault only oil barons and kings have. After we finished, Bellanti had me destroy all records of it.”

It was interesting that Camden himself did not install it; that was meaningful, or he wouldn't have pointed it out. We would have to discuss it Off-Screen.

“Did you even see it yourself?” I asked. “Did you lay hands on it? How do you know it's still there?”

“He was very motivated to get this vault built,” Camden said. “He made it clear it was his top priority. The feds found the decoy safe; the prosecutor paraded its contents around like an idiot, but there was never any mention of the big one. The only reason I know it exists is that I kept the sketch of it right up here,” he said, tapping his temple.

“So either we've got the biggest payday of our lives in that house, or there are some lying rich feds out there spending Bellanti's blood money,” I said.

“I'd roll those dice,” he said. “So you're assembling a crew. I know the place is well protected. You're going to need someone who can take the alarms out and a safe cracker, not to mention people to help carry whatever he put in that thing.”

I almost wished that he hadn't mentioned the carrying part, because our team didn't have any muscle on it. We had designed our loadouts so that we wouldn't need it, but it was a weird thing to be missing from a heist crew.

“I'll handle that,” I said. “Just worry about leading us to your magic invisible safe. This should be an easy one.”

“That's what the last guy said,” Camden said.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You went with someone else before me?” I asked.

Camden started rolling up the blueprints for the house. “He was small-time. Ended up dropping contact not long after we ironed out the details. Guess he found something better to do. I'm going in with you to make sure that you don't.”

I nodded and smiled, trying to look clever if at all possible. I looked down at my hand and noticed a slight red tinge from where I had touched the wood.