Plotlogs
Tears Of The Hollow The Spirit Society Sr Lorenzo 250418
In a surreal encounter within a liminal space, Jane, Elijah, and Lynette find themselves entangled in a bizarre and harrowing adventure. Their journey begins upon waking from unsettling dreams, each holding a mysterious mask — the Mourning Veil, crafted by an enigmatic artisan rumored to have consorted with a memory-eater. This mask embodies the dual nature of the Spirit Society, an organization that tantalizes with promises of glory, fortune, and purpose amidst the backdrop of a cold war.
This trio's ordeal accelerates as they are transported to a hauntingly empty bus cruising through an ominous landscape, devoid of life yet filled with unseen watchers and voices from beyond. They disembark at a chilling bus stop that borders a forest, which seems to be alive with the whispers of the dead and an oppressive, supernatural mist.
Before they can fully grasp their situation, the group is assaulted by the risen dead, forcing them into a desperate flight towards a distant mansion, which stands as a beacon of false sanctuary. Inside, they face Ototo and Ani, manifestations of terror who test their resolve in brutal combat. Lynette's wit and Elijah's resolve see them through, but not without cost — especially to Elijah, who suffers grievous injuries in the confrontation.
The narrative crescendos in a surreal chamber, where the boundaries of reality blur, leaving the group to confront the essence of their ordeal. Reality shifts, and they are suddenly back in Haven, the city from which their journey inexplicably began. The strange woman — a guide or perhaps a guardian of sorts — commends their triumph, disappearing as mysteriously as she had appeared.
Awakening as if from a dream, they find themselves safe but changed, each holding the tangible symbol of their ordeal: the mask. Yet, the experience leaves them with more questions than answers, a sense of accomplishment mingled with an unease at the realization that their reality may be far more layered and enigmatic than they ever imagined.
This tale, woven with elements of horror, mystery, and a quest for understanding, invites the reader to ponder the nature of reality, the power of unseen forces, and the depth of human resolve in the face of the unknowable.
(Tears of the Hollow - The Spirit Society(SRLorenzo):SRLorenzo)
[Thu Apr 17 2025]
At Dream Within A Dream
The room unfolds like a memory you never lived.
Soft, ambient light filters from nowhere and everywhere, casting no shadows. The walls shimmer between colors, blush gold, deep lavender, ocean blue, as if reflecting your truest desires. The air is comfortable, clean, with a scent that feels familiar, though you can't place it: like childhood summers, first kisses, or a place youve never been but always longed for.
The floor is plush beneath your feet, yielding gently, as if sinking into a marshmallow. Music drifts through the area: subtle, wordless, the rhythm of a heartbeat at peace.
Mirrors line the walls, but these dont show your reflection. They show you as you should be: stronger, wiser, unburdened by scars or sorrow. For a moment, its hard to remember anything else.
In the center stands a fountain, its water impossibly still, reflecting only the version of yourself you want to believe in.
There are no doors. No threats. Only comfort. Perfection. Peace. But the silence lingers too long. And in the stillness, something watches: beneath the fountain, behind the mirrors, within you.
The dream holds you gently. Too gently.
It is morning, about 49F(9C) degrees,
Jane bows
The world begins to blur.
It starts in the edges of your vision: colors bleeding like watercolor in the rain. Your limbs grow heavy, your breath slower. The air turns warm and thick, as though youre sinking into pool of water. Sounds stretch out, distorting into echoes that dont quite return to you. Even your heartbeat feels distant, as if it no longer belongs to you.
A strange stillness overtakes everything. Time stops. From the mist between moments, she appears: A woman floats just beyond reach, dressed in hues of midnight and starlig``299ht. Her hair is a cascade of blue-black, eyes like dusk: kind, amused, and impossibly old. She carries herself with both grace and gravity, as if laughter and death were twin blades at her hip.
In her hands, she holds a mask. Ebony and ivory, one side smiling, the other frowning. The Mourning Veil. She does not ask your name. Instead, her voice hums into your bones.
"You've wandered in darkness long enough. Would you like to see what hunts in them? Join us. The Spirit Society. Earn glory, fortune... or purpose. Test yourself. Rewrite this gruesome world. Be more than a pawn in Haven's cold war."
Her hand extends. Then: You wake. The ground is cold beneath you. Your hands are empty. Except for the mask. Maybe it was a dream.
Jane wakes up rubbing her eyes she is a bit confused on what to make of her situation and where she is holding a mask she puts it away and looks around at her surroundings.
Elijah wakes up with a start, cold sweat on his forehead. He's breathing heavy, his large chest lifting and raising. Realizing it was all just a dream he shakes his head and bristles his mustache. He reaches over to his bed where he keeps his patrol cap, and running a large, rough hand through his hair he places the patrol cap onto his head, where it belongs, and then climbs out of bed. It's not until he's already on his feet and starting to pull his shirt on in front of the mirror that he notices the mask placed, perhaps gently, onto his bedside table. He pauses, leaving his shirt half unbuttoned as he makes his way over, leaning down and picking up the mask with a confused look on his face "... You weren't here when I went to sleep ..."
(fixed?)@me wakes up with a start, cold sweat on his forehead. He's breathing heavy, his large chest lifting and raising. Realizing it was all just a dream he shakes his head and bristles his mustache. He reaches over to his bed where he keeps his patrol cap, and running a large, rough hand through his hair he places the patrol cap onto his head, where it belongs, and then climbs out of bed. It's not until he's already on his feet and starting to pull his shirt on in front of the mirror that he notices the mask placed, perhaps gently, onto his bedside table. He pauses, leaving his shirt half unbuttoned as he makes his way over, leaning down and picking up the mask with a confused look on his face "... You weren't here when I went to sleep ..."
Lynette wakes from her rest as lovely as if it were a normal morning. Only this time she seemed to have something in her hands. Her pretty eyes flutter open, running her fingers along the strange object. "This is more supernatural bullshit, isn't it?" she mutters annoyed, slipping out of bed to pull on some clothes. She had a feeling today wasn't going to be a normal evening.
Jane still a bit lost at the situation she is in, with nearly no knowledge at what is going on began to think, maybe she shouldnt have drank herself near to death at the bar that time, because she is clearly lost and has no clue where she is or why does she have a weird mask, this mask looks expensive though, she hoped she didnt steal it in some sort of drunken stupor.
As you examine, touch, or simply discard the mask memories suddenly come flooding in: knowledge, lore, and everything you could possibly want to know or ask, even try to resist hits your mind like a pulse, until a pain washes over you, as if an electrical current just rocked your entire body:
Crafted by an unnamed artisan rumored to have bargained with a memory-eater, The Mourning Veil is a full-face mask of exquisite design, split perfectly down the middle. The right side is carved from polished ebony, smooth and dark as a midnight confession. Its expression is a serene, hollow smile: a lie of peace. The left side, sculpted from weathered ivory, bears a deep frown, sorrow etched in fine, lifelike lines. Together, the mask reflects the dual truths of the Spirit Society: hope through vengeance, and grief beneath the cause.
Intricate filigree borders the edge of each half, converging at the center where a thin, vertical crack hums faintly with a silver-blue glow when worn. No straps or clasps are visible: it binds to the wearer through intention alone.
Lynette scrunches her nose as her mind in bombarded by memories she wasn't partically inclined to want to know about. She drops the mask on the bed and stares at the thing from across the room, touching her pounding headache it caused. "What the fuck is a memory-eater? Sounds dangerous.." she mutters in annoyance.
"ow what the fuck...huh?" Jane sound panicked, clearly she drank too much...is what she would be thinking, that was way too vivid to be some sort of hangover induced hallucination, whatever that was it isnt normal, staring at the dropped mask she is weighing her decision on picking up the clearly bad vibe mask that gave her weird visions, on one hand it is definitely cursed in some way or another, on the other hand, she is probably cursed by it, she really shouldnt have drank so much yesterday if she knew she would be getting into dangerous situations such as this.
His brow furrows and his mustache bristles once more, Elijah looking down at the strange mask in front of him. His hand raises up to his jacket's breast pocket, the place he usually clipped his radio, intending to radio in this weird ass mask he just found, ask for an arcane expert to be called into the station so they could figure out what it was. His radio wasn't there though, obviously, he'd just gotten out of bed and his shirt wasn't even fully buttoned up. "Damn it all, it's not four in the fucking morning yet" The man grumbles up his breath as clips the mask to the side of his belt with an exasperated sigh, the mask held their by intention alone, and goes back to his mirror. He starts to button up his shirt with a sense of urgency this time.
Your fingers close around the mask, perhaps an irresistible pull, or mayhap it forces itself upon you, either way it hovers, breaking free from its cages, restraints, or wherever it was left to rest, coming a breaths away from your face before too long, and begins to melt onto your visage violently wrapping around until hiding you in anonymity.
The moment you accept, deny, or try to fight fate the world falls away like sand in the wind. Sensation collapses: no weight, no time, only a single heartbeat, echoing through a black so vast it feels like a memory of the universe before creation.
Then: motion. You feel it before you see it. The soft jolt of worn tires over cracked asphalt. The low hum of an engine, steady, almost hypnotic. The scent of dust, exhaust, and something faintly sweet, like dried flowers pressed between forgotten pages.
Your eyes open, youre on a bus, full clothed, battle ready. Its dim inside, lit only by flickering overhead lights that cast long shadows down the aisle. The seats are half-filled: figures slumped in silence, some holding masks just like yours, others wearing them already. No one speaks. No one looks at the driver. Youre not sure there is one.
Outside the window, darkness rolls past: a forest, maybe. Or something pretending to be one. Occasionally, you see faces in the trees. Or reflections that arent yours.
The mask sits in your lap, cool and waiting. A sign flashes by, just visible through the dirty glass: the Spirit Society. No turning back now.
"Fucking hell" Would be the man's first reaction. He was in his riot gear now, an AR-16 strapped to the front of his chest piece. He looks over and spots Lynette and someone also in the bus with him. His mustache bristles as he realizes they're likely as stuck in this situation as he is. He can see their armed too, and it seemed like they were being carted off towards some kind of battle. "Stay with me" Elijah gruffs in their direction, sitting up straight and trying to look like he knew what was going on. "Things are about to get dicey. Stand behind me and you'll miss the worst of it." The man tells them, looking straight ahead, his eyes not visible behind his jet black aviators.
"Fucking hell" Would be the man's first reaction. He was in his riot gear now, an AR-16 strapped to the front of his chest piece. He looks over and spots Lynette and Jane also in the bus with him. His mustache bristles as he realizes they're likely as stuck in this situation as he is. He can see their armed too, and it seemed like they were being carted off towards some kind of battle. "Stay with me" Elijah gruffs in their direction, sitting up straight and trying to look like he knew what was going on. "Things are about to get dicey. Stand behind me and you'll miss the worst of it." The man tells them, looking straight ahead, his eyes not visible behind his jet black aviators.
"...crap this is bad where am i?" Jane rubs her head, in a flash not even giving her a chance to truly backout she is now stuck in some sort of battle bus headed towards an unknown danger, being a civilian for most of her life, she is...very much dead meat, looking at Elijah she nods and trust her life to this someone, who very much looks like he can handle himself better than her.
"...crap this is bad where am i?" Jane rubs her head, in a flash not even giving her a chance to truly backout she is now stuck in some sort of battle bus headed towards an unknown danger, being a civilian for most of her life, she is...very much dead meat, looking at Elijah she nods and trust her life to Elijah, who very much looks like he can handle himself better than her.
Lynette collapses her face into her hands. "I knew it... every fucking time..." she sighs, hearing others on this weird bus starting to panic as well. Lynette ignores them for a moment to look out the window, noticing it was still dark outside, the stupid mask in her lap. Her eyes drift to Jane and Elijah curiously as she adjusts the bow on her back. "Don't worry, I'm an expert at hiding behind others," she smirks.
The bus jerks to a stop with a shudder that rattles through your bones. The door hisses open, but no one announces the stop. No voice, no driver: just the quiet creak of the door lingering too long, as if inviting something in... or letting you out; no forcing you out by some unseen force.
The air hits you like a forgotten dream: cold, heavy, and damp, thick with moss and rust and something sweet beneath it, like chilled berries. Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you step off, the ground uneven, the mist already curling around your ankles like curious fingers.
You stand at a bus stop that feels like a shrine to absence. A cracked bench sits beneath a sagging shelter, its roof blotched with moss. The schedule board is nearly blank, times lost to rain, rust, or something more deliberate. A vending machine hums beside you, too loud, too aware, and every drink inside is full, untouched, collecting dust like forgotten offerings.
A rusted sign creaks in the stillness: Turn Back. Do Not Enter After Dusk. But the forest ahead says otherwise. The bus doors close behind you. You dont remember hearing them. And when you turn to look: The bus is gone.
Lynette tilts her head. "Well then, this must be our stop. Creepy..." she looks towards the pair with her before sliding out of her seat. How weird perspective is. Perhaps if Takeshi was here she'd be panicking more. Instead the supernatural had begun to feel...super mundane. Her shoes click with her steps as she exists, brushing past the others before taking a look around at the new area. "Looks old. Yucky even, I'm not touching that," she huffs dignified with crossed arms. "cheapsaktes..."
Stepping off of the bus, both hands on the AR, his finger splayed out along the side of the trigger guard in proper trigger discipline. He takes one look at the forest, his reaction not entirely visibly behind those broad aviator lenses, and he turns right around and starts to head away from it. "If they brought us here to fight a war, we should head as far away from the battle zone as we can." The man says, setting off at a steady march before pausing to look over his shoulder at both Lynette and Lynette "If you two don't want to fight a war, I suggest you come with me." Elijah announces to them
"i agree with that missus" Jane looks around at the stop they were dropped in, she didnt even get to see her driver with how fast they were just dropped in here Jane looks at Elijah and nods, standing directly behind him as if he is a wall that is safe to hide behind.
Whether you meet destiny, reject fate, or simply flee the dread that looms before you the mist continues to grow, rising, until it becomes all consuming. Maybe you begin to panic, maybe you steel your nerves, or maybe you just don't give a fuck and try to reject your reality. It doesn't matter if you stand, wait, or flee as you can barely see even six inches infront of you, comrades becoming memories at best, but thankfully you can still hear one another, plead for help, or act like this doesn't affect you.
In the end you feel the mist begin to choke you, stealing breath, however their is hope, the mist begins to slowly roll, like a sea being parted, revealing a path, safety? To stay is to surely suffocate, die, who knows? Surely Jane, Elijah, and Lynette value their lives, surely they love breathing, if not stay see if the mists are forgiving or if they will not continue to strangle you until every last bit of oxygen is wrangled from your lungs.
Lynette coughs as the air becomes unbareable. "Fuck, less fighting is preferred. Lead the way officer, get us out of this mist," she holds a hand over her nose and mouth as she heads off in whatever direction he picked, gesturing for Jane to follow them.
Bringing an arm up from his gun to try and cover his mouth from whatever it was that was in this air, Elijah furrows his brow as he continues marching through the mist. As the mist pulls apart and reveals a path to them he glances over his shoulder to try and figure out where those two women were before announcing a sharp "We need to get out of this fog. Follow me." and setting out into a brisk combat jog towards the path revealed!
"gh hack, right behind you cough" Jane follows both Lynette and Elijah, the last thing she wants is to be left behind in this choking fog, there is no point dying in some unknown lands, she wants to go home so she is going to stick to the man who can lead her to safety first.
The deeper you tread into Aokigahara, the more the forest seems to breathe. The air is thick and wet, clinging to your skin like cold fingers. Your breath mists out before you, but there's no wind: only silence, thick and unnatural. Even your footsteps feel muffled, absorbed by the spongy ground and the carpet of fallen leaves that never decompose. Every tree leans just a little too close, their limbs gnarled like twisted limbs reaching for something theyll never grasp.
A whisper rides the mist, then another, familiar voices, dead voices. They echo not in the air, but somewhere behind your ears, close enough to feel but impossible to follow. The hairs on your arms rise, the back of your neck prickles. Something is wrong with the earth itself: it shudders beneath your feet, faint and pulsing, like the heartbeat of something slumbering just beneath the moss.
Then it begins. A soft crack, then another, as the soil splits and fingers, pale and rotted, breach the surface like worms seeking air. The scent of decay swells, thick and sharp. From the earth, forms begin to rise: slow, deliberate, broken things with hollow eyes and slack jaws. They lurch toward you. How many? two!? No, four! Something hungry!? It's coming for you! It moves like Z-day fucking zombies, how? Muscles decayed, fleshing barely hanging on, god they are fast!
"oh god in heaven please tell me i am still drunk back at the bar and this is a dream induced by my drunken mind" Jane stares at what she can clearly see are zombies just sham-no running at them, she looks completely panicked and curses under her breath "fuck, shit, damn" as she just look at the forming horde of rotten flesh starts making its way over to them.
"Fucking hell, undead" The man glowers, his hand instantly goes to where his radio is normally clipped, his first instinct to radio in some backup, but of course, there was no radio, and there was no backup. "GET BACK!" Elijah shouts to Jane and Lynette both, his hands going next to his gun. /CRACK/ /CRACK /CRACK/ /CRACK/ /CRACK /CRACK/ The forest is lit up with muzzle flash and bullets thud into the earth as Elijah sprays at the hands, trying to get as much lead inside of them as he can before they'd gotten up out of the earth. Of course, he can't get all of them, and it's not long before the ones he hadn't managed to shoot, and even some of the ones he had, were charging. He checks to see that Lynette and Jane are running, and if they were, he sets out into a sprint the opposite direction!
Jane is running, away from the zombies she is terrified and panicking.
Lynette scrunches her nose in absolute disgust, especially from the smell. She, in fact, did not immediately run. Instead she reaches to her back, drawing a yami bow off it and aims down at the earth. "Can the dead even die a second time?" she groans. At one point a hand appeared from the earth behind her but was immediately subdued by a falling tree branch from pure luck.
Unable to tell what else to do, she shoots arrows not to kill them, but to pin their limbs to the earth. Once she got a couple down and realized that there were more than she wished to deal with, Lynette would grab Jane by the hand and drag her long through the forest terrain away from the creatures. "Stupid Tsubaki rules, always helping woman bullshit," she mutters through her teeth.
One can't even crawl from the ground before the rattle of Elijah's carbine turns it into swiss cheese, the lead climbing, until popping the things skull open and causing it to slump over with a wet thud; another finds it's legs cut out from under it with the hail of freedom, hamburgers, and some god damn eagle in the distant screeches, however it still had sentience, crawling, lurking towards Elijah, hungry for some Beefcake.
Fate intervenes at such an opportune moment, as a rotted limb from a tree comes crashing down on a third, as echoing 'thwips' pin it to the ground as arrows crack bones and cause flesh to ooze bile, gunk, and something utterly foul smelling. The fourth however shuffles quickly, fast, unphased, instantly locking onto Jane, somehow sensing the weak, the scared, the woman utterly unprepared for a night in the woods, truly just another Jane amongst the Does.
Then a resounding crunch fills the air, a full throated groan echoes in Janes ear, as sharp, cracked, and decaying teeth begin to bite into her back. Luckily a jacket, but the trauma to the flesh alone felt like something wretched her skin and damn near pulled it off!
"Shit." Elijah flicks the safety and lets go of the gun, letting it fall to his hip from the strap on it as he runs over to Jane and slaps both his palms onto the zombie, gripping it at the neck and shoulder before lurching his body and with a mighty heave, tearing the zombie off of her back! He throws it to the ground before giving Jane a sharp shove to keep her running "Keep moving! Go! Go! Go!" He barks loud, turning back to look at the corpse on the ground and bringing his knee up high before stomping the heel of his boot down towards the thing's skull with a rough grunt! "You!" Elijah barks at Lynette "Put your bow away and fucking run!"
Jane who looks like she in deep pain nods all she can really do is run anyways, even if it is painful, though it seems she cant even scream out how much in pain she is with this situation being as it is.
"Huh?" she snaps as he tells her to run. "I will fucking run, but not because you told me to," Lynette makes a show of turning on her heel and heading off again, but like hell she was putting her precious bow away. That was staying clutched in her grasp.
Elijah will require reposts
(repost) "Huh?" she snaps as he tells her to run. "I will fucking run, but not because you told me to," Lynette makes a show of turning on her heel and heading off again, but like hell she was putting her precious bow away. That was staying clutched in her grasp.
(repost) Jane who looks like she in deep pain nods all she can really do is run anyways, even if it is painful, though it seems she cant even scream out how much in pain she is with this situation being as it is.
The zombie is easily pulled to the ground by Elijah, these things are exactly Jet Li, nor the one, and is pinned effortlessly by the brawn of Elijah's strength that could easily throw full beer kegs over a shoulder or pose for those manly men candlers; bears, body builders, maybe the fire fighter edition? Anyways, all that matters is that the things cranium just splits from the sudden curb stopping, a wheeze causes it's chest to deflate, as yellow mucus slimes from its ears and black bile sputters out from those hollow eyes.
The two women flee, the trees, mist, even the moonlight seems to guide them in their attempts to fly from the horrors of Aokigahara. Their feet thud loudly, almost becoming something they can focus on, to push back the fear, the adrenaline, the terror of being lost in a maze of trees, but hark in the distance to the north, on a hill, the very image of a Mansion appears. Shelter! Quickly, run, push back the mucus, the hurt from straining lungs, and the burn of muscles growing fatigued. No telling if another round of suicides, victims, and whatever else lurks comes to rend sinew from bone! No time for heroics! Maybe some snappy quips, but not heroism!
[OOC: Move North at your leisure and after your poses!!!]
The Hollow groans around you: timber shuddering, stone grinding, as if the mansion itself were stretching in its slumber.
Light floods the hallway in nauseating gold, too bright, casting shadows where none should be. The air is moist, hot, and dense with the scent of old perfume, mildew, and something coppery beneath it. Footsteps echo where none are taken. The portraits on the walls twitch at the edges of vision: smiles warping, eyes narrowing.
Then the first slam echoes through the hall.
A door bursts open ahead, slamming shut with such force the walls tremble. Another follows. Then another. Soon, every door in the corridor is opening and slamming shut in wild rhythm: faster, louder. Shutters bang and wail like tortured mouths, banshee cries rising into a deafening chorus. Wind surges where there are no windows. The chandeliers swing violently now, chains groaning as candlelight spasms like a heartbeat out of control.
You cover your ears. It doesn't help. Then, silence. Everything stops. The lights flicker once. Twice. And at the end of the hall, one door remains open: tall, dark, and impossibly still. Something waits beyond it, not watching, expecting.
He was in pretty decent shape, but he was also wearing armor and hauling a rifle so catching up to the other two would be a task. He'd be huffing by the time he caught up with them, but with deep, pulling breaths drawn in through his nose it wouldn't be long before his heaving chest would slowly start to calm down again, the man pacing up to the woman as they stopped in front of the mansion. "Looks like they laid our the red carpet for us ..." Elijah grumbles under his breath as he brings both hands to his rifle once more, finger splayed out across the trigger guard. He looks over his shoulder at the mist that had almost suffocated them to death, and then back to the manor. "We should probably try to take shelter" He says begrudgingly before starting to march up the stairs.
He's almost brought to a knee as the screams tear through the air around him, hunching over with a loud scream of pain, dropping his rifle to it's strap as his hands go up to clench at his ears. Though, as soon as it had started, it was gone. "Shit." Elijah grumbles as he realizes the manor might not be as safe as he'd first hoped, glancing over his shoulder at the mist once more. "On second thought" Elijah remarks to Lynette "Keep the bow" He tells her. He looks to Jane next, bringing a hand to the small of her back "Comon now, we'll get you home soon enough" He tells her
Lynette doesnt look back again and keeps on running. Seems like that cop is cocky enough to deal with the undead on his own, why shouldn't she honor a man with a death wish? A mansion could be spotted in the distance, and while creepy, shelter seemed good... probably.
"Gross... again with this nasty old dying shit," she sighs, wishing to be in the onsen more than ever. She parts her lips for another snotty quip, but the loud nose startles the girl silent. She tilts her head only for more sounds to echo. She takes the moment to hide behind Elijah after all, "yeah.. I wasn't putting it away," she mutters.
Elijah will needs reposts (Again)
(repost) Lynette doesnt look back again and keeps on running. Seems like that cop is cocky enough to deal with the undead on his own, why shouldn't she honor a man with a death wish? A mansion could be spotted in the distance, and while creepy, shelter seemed good... probably.
"Gross... again with this nasty old dying shit," she sighs, wishing to be in the onsen more than ever. She parts her lips for another snotty quip, but the loud nose startles the girl silent. She tilts her head only for more sounds to echo. She takes the moment to hide behind Elijah after all, "yeah.. I wasn't putting it away," she mutters.
The pictures all shudder at once, each faces turns to face Elijah, Jane, and Lynette, eyes blazing with an almost fiery glow; until they begin to laugh, mock, and taunt the trio. Another loud bellow echoes from the single swinging hole in the wall, the doors swaying in place, open, inviting. Yet to stay is to push the boundaries of madness as a disembody voices fill your ears whispering things too foreign, too ancient, too cryptic to understand but it causes you to laugh, chuckle as your mind tries to grip at its sanity.
There's a sharp click as the AR is brought to bear, but it's not fired this time. Elijah pausing as his eyes hidden behind aviators give indescribable expressions. The mustache bristles, his jaw chewing on nothing for a moment before he slowly lowers the gun "I think it's just some kind of illusion." He gruffs to Lynette as he makes his way through the door. "Let's see if we can find the lord of this manor already, see if they've got a phone."
Lynette gets a chill of fear down her spine, attempting to keep her eyes foward and not show it. "Social media is worse," she claims, flipping her hair over one shoulder.
Elijah goes north?
[OOC: Go north at your own leisure!]
The Obsidian Pit breathes around you, heavy and slow, like something asleep beneath the cracked stone is beginning to stir.
The light is harsh, artificial, burning down from flickering spotlights that make the dust dance like ash. Every surface here is scarred. The floor is fractured, pitted with old craters, bloodstains turned black, and deep gouges left by things with too many teeth. Rusted chains sway overhead from unseen rafters, clinking in a rhythm that doesn't match your heartbeat, but somehow knows it.
From the far side of the arena, two figures descend. One towers, a walking mass of controlled destruction. His trench coat clings to his unnatural bulk, black combat boots thudding like war drums on stone. The pompadour, unshaken. The sunglasses, reflective of nothing. When he speaks, its soft; deceptively calm, edged in ice:
"Come. Try not to be too hard on us... we are fragile."
The second moves like smoke dressed in silk; tall, wiry, wrong in every joint. His coat ripples as if alive, his pink shirt vibrant and loud beneath it. His eyes gleam with something cruel behind glazed skin. His smile says he already knows how this ends, his incessant-nasally laughter mocking.
The crowd above whispers. The Pit watches. The arena stills.
A low chuckle slithers from the thinner figure: dry, nasal, cruelly amused. Ani lifts one long-fingered hand and places it flat against his own chest, like a gentleman about to give a toast. Instead, the gesture becomes monstrous. His arm trembles, then stretches: flesh writhing, bones cracking with sickening snaps. His smile never falters.
With a flourish like a magician revealing a trick, Ani bows forward. His entire frame begins to twist: limbs coiling, spine arching unnaturally as skin peels and reforms. His overcoat ripples, melding into the transformation.
Flesh sharpens. Bones elongate. His body folds inward with revolting grace until he is no longer a man, but a blade: massive, crooked, and gleaming like obsidian soaked in ink. Veins pulse just beneath its surface, and his single, lidless eye remains near the hilt, blinking lazily.
Ototo steps forward without a word, taking the contorted weapon from the ground with one massive hand. It fits him perfectly.
The younger brother lifts Ani with practiced ease. The blade vibrates, humming a sound that reverberates in your teeth. The Pit holds its breath. The fight has begun.
"Hey now, I'm a lover not a fighter," Lynette swallows nervously, glancing towards the cop as if for support. She draws her bow from her back, pulling an arrow taught before aiming lower at the ground. With a single shot fired she seemed to plan to pinning his foot to the floor to prevent his movement foward. "Can you you fight?" she mutters towards the cop.
Elijah looks over his shoulder, and then to Lynette and then to the man in the center of the pit "Wait ..." Elijah says in a confused, dreading tone. His eyes weren't visible, but surely they were full of fear "Are ... We ... Supposed to fight this man?" Elijah asks, looking over to the man in the center. Not descending into the pit himself, Elijah calls out to the man from the edge of it, gun lowered non threateningly towards the ground. "Excuse me, sir." Elijah addresses the /thing/ politely as he can "Me and my compatriots have taken shelter from those suffocating mists out in this here manor. We're in search of the home owner in hopes of finding a phone we can use to call for an officer to come pick us up" Elijah tells the man "Would you please drop your frie- the weapon, and inform us where we can find somelpace to call home."
Elijah looks over to Lynette and gives her a look hidden by his aviators. "I can fight a drunken man in a bar. I don't know what this guy is, but I probably can't fight him." Elijah informs her quite matter of factly, talking low so the demon thing couldn't hear them
Ototo looks to Lynette, almost bemused at her wittle arrow singing into his trousers, through his boot, and with a sicking crunch against his flesh. You see the blood, clearly the man can bleed, but the arrows begins to slowly rise, pushing itself out from the foot, out of the boot, and onto the ground. The man rolls his neck, spits at the ground, while the sword in his hand begins to laugh uncontrollably, incessantly, and insufferably never ending.
Ototo then looks to Elijah from behind his glasses, then to Jane as she begins to lock up in fear, before he comes lumbering forward, and for such a large thing he moves incredibly fast.
He's on them in seconds, hoisting up Jane up in the air by the scruff of her neck before throwing her aside and into a wall with a resounding crack. He smiles, then looks down from his towering height at Elijah and Lynette, "Welcome, let's enjoy ourselves."
He winces as the woman is slammed into the wall, but it wasn't like it was his first time dealing with a man with a strange knee growth deciding to attack instead of talk when addressed by a police officer. His weapon is brought up, and a legally required "DROP THE WEAPON!" Is bellowed by Elijah opens fire. More muzzle flash as Elijah does his best to try and mag dump the demon, hoping his gun might create more of a result than someone 's bow had as he belts burst after controlled burst into the creature from the side.
He winces as the woman is slammed into the wall, but it wasn't like it was his first time dealing with a man with a strange knee growth deciding to attack instead of talk when addressed by a police officer. His weapon is brought up, and a legally required "DROP THE WEAPON!" Is bellowed by Elijah opens fire. More muzzle flash as Elijah does his best to try and mag dump the demon, hoping his gun might create more of a result than Lynette 's bow had as he belts burst after controlled burst into the creature from the side.
Lynette flinches at the sound of him breaking the woman's neck. "I dont think she's gunna be okay," Lynette whinces. "I wonder if there's a way to... unalive them again..." she mutters and moves away from the cop to search the room. As if activated from her thoughts alone, her magic would swell, following the girl around like little fairy lights. "If we can't kill it, we could at least try to restrain it. Maybe I can do some sort of purifying bullshit onto it," Lynette calls over her shoulder as she searches for something useful, starting by gathering chains along the wall.
The monster's body responds to the flurry of bullets, the heat alone causing a sizzing sound as it rips through the thing, punching through, and out the other end; more blood, more holes, more sickening sounds of flesh being ripped apart, but Ototo looks almost unfazed; the laughing continues from Ani, it's obnoxious at this point as much as that 'man' was bellowing from that unblinking eye that constantly whips back and forth between Elijah and Lynette.
Ototo takes a moment to pause, until he blades his stance, place the weapon that his brother is at his back side, and then without warning chambers a kick and sends it straight for Lynette's chest, "Ladies first." He says in a cold definitive way as the foot comes roaring towards her with enough might to crack bones.
Their are chains everywhere, hanging from the ceiling unseen, dangling from the walls, and lazily laying on the floor.
Just as the kick is about to connect with the chest of Lynette, a strange out of place light would stream through the room. Enough to blind the grotesque creature from getting a clear shot as Lynette dives out of the way. Lynette was a delicate thing after all, can't afford to have her ribs broken yet.
Just as the kick is about to connect with the chest of Lynette, a strange out of place light would stream through the room. Enough to blind the grotesque creature from getting a clear shot as Lynette dives out of the way. Lynette was a delicate thing after all, can't afford to have her ribs broken yet.
Elijah takes the brunt of the kick, his abdomen damn near turns to jelly, and you swore you heard a bone crack, but you move it just enough to stop the full force of the kick to land solidly on Lynette and keep it from turning her into a was and were. Ototo lips curl into a small smile, as he raises a hand to protect his eyes, "Clever, better thing of something fast, you might die."
Elijah takes a running dive to try and put himself between Lynette and the kick, his eyes squeezing shut in pain as he gets hurled across the room by the kick! Rolling too his back, and too compromised now to get up, he sits up what little he can from the position he's in and levies his gun again "... Fuck ... You ..." The man gurgles at Otto, blood spilling out the corners of his mouth as he takes advantage of the distraction Lynette was creating to take aim at the creatures head, and pull the trigger ...
Lynette grimances at the sight of Elijah taking the blow for me. She decides to use this opportunity of distraction to lock a manacle around the foot of the monster still planted on the floor. It was still attached to the wall by a chain, so if successfully locked Lynette would quickly scurry out of his range of movement.
Another assault, no pun intended, of hot lead flies from the carbine and with the light causing Ototo to pause momentarily gives him a solid, still, and unmoving target. All Elijah can hear is solid hits: snap, crackle, pop. Then nothing, the light begins to fade, and the image of Ototo becomes clearer, the monster is just standing their. Until its body goes limp, crumpling to the floor, falling forward, and its forehead slamming against the cold floor.
Something is off however, not right, too easy, even if those hits landed, hit their mark, and put foreign objects into gray matter. The chain rattles like a snake as he finally settles on the floor, anchored to him, his head full of holes seeps out blood, its red, its flowing, and it isn't stopping; just a like any other supernatural would go down from a clear dome shot. Yay team work?
Lynette stares at the creature with a disturbed look on her face. "Ew.." she hums, tilting her head as she gets the mask out, covering his deformed face with it. "I think thats a little better," she steps back out of reach again just in case.
Given his midsection was still mostly jelly, Elijah wasn't going to be getting up to his feet. He laboriously pushes himself towards the side wall of the pit to prop himself up, panting heavily as he twists his gun to send the magazine flying out, patting at his belt for the second, taking a few seconds to find it before pushing it into the gun with shaking hands. "F ... Fucking hell ..." Elijah groans out in pain, wincing hard as he looks over at the corpse on the ground "I get the feeling he isn't gunna stay down" Elijah tells Lynette "See if you can find more chains to chain him up, and after that, look for a phone ... I think I'm gunna need some medical attention quick."
The body doesn't move, blood just gushes out of Ototo's cranium, even the sword that is Ani lays dormant on the ground. The pit is nothing but a hush whisper, the things you can't see talking amongst themselves, almost in shock belief at the turn of events, with the only thing to break the sound of peanut gallery and Elijah and Lynette's murmurs, was the faint wails coming from the north: melodramatic, haunting, and eerie.
Unless Lynette grows wings or pulls iron from stone she would get no more chains to wrap the Toguro's up in.
Propping the gun against his hip in the general direction of the creature Elijah expected to start moving any second now, Elijah gestures with his head towards the door "Go ahead of me" Elijah tells Lynette in a gurgling voice "Look for a phone. I'm only going to slow you down like this." Elijah tells her before looking back at the creature with weak eyes, trying to keep his eyes locked on it, but clearly struggling to even stay awake at this point.
Lynette looks at the officer confused before she remembers normal people dont instantly heal like demons do. "Shit," she scoffs coming over to his side. She pulls out her golden smartphone, checking for a signal while looking down the hallway. "Where even are we? Fuck.."
No cell reception, no signal, no bars. Bubkis, nada, try again never.
OOC: Move north at your leisure and poses!?
The light here is blinding. Not warm, not kind: just bright, sterile, unfeeling. It pours through stained glass depictions of agony and holiness twisted together, painting the stone floor in bleeding reds and saintly golds. But there is no heat in it. Only exposure. A sense that nothing hides here... except what must.
The air is heavy with rosewater, cloying sweet, masking the faint sting of rust beneath it. Every breath feels perfumed and poisoned. The drapes whisper softly, yet nothing exists to move. The walls are far too quiet.
Your skin tingles as you step past the threshold: wards buzz faintly in your ears, just below sound, like a gnat that knows your name.
The lullaby scratches through the air, warped and cyclical, like a lullaby buried in your ear. The chandelier flickers above, casting wraithlike shadows that stretch across the bed: a beautiful thing carved from bone and built to drain. You feel its hunger. It recognizes strength. It waits to take it.
Chains gleam of silver, humming faintly with enchantment. In the corner, the mirror stares back. But not with your face. Others are watching. Theyve been watching. And now the Fae Child stirs.
Elijah manages to lurch his way into the room behind Lynette, sweat forming on his brow as he sees a bed in the room. Finally, someplace to rest, much better than slumped against the wall in the previous room. He makes his way forwards, pausing as he notices the child already in the bed. His mustache bristles for a moment. "It's not weird if I sleep foot to head, is it?" Elijah asks, with a sigh, not magically aware enough to know he might be in danger if he lies down in that bed ...#
As her phone fails, Lynette tries to half drag half help the officer into the next room. Here it seems a little nicer than other rooms, but that wasn't a very high bar. Lynette was about to search for medical supplies, helping Elijah towwrds the bed, but she was distracted by the mirror. It wasn't unusual for Lynette to be distracted by a mirror, but horrifyingly she wasn't able to see her own reflection in it. She couldn't help but stare, trying to understand the unfamiliar being.
Something glitches, the room begins to pulse, vibrate, become like static, as if the matrix had a huge conniption.
The chains that once drained the Fae Childs strength lie shattered, her silken prison unraveled thread by thread. Gonzo Tarukanes empire of filth has been pulled down to its foundation, its walls echoing not with screams, but silence. His ledgers burn. His allies scatter. His body... you remember it falling, dont you?
And the Toguro brothers, monuments of terror. crumbled like statues turned to dust. Too fast. Too clean. A perfect ending, perhaps.
Something glitches, the room begins to pulse, vibrate, become like static, as if the matrix had a huge conniption.
The chains that once drained the Fae Childs strength lie shattered, her silken prison unraveled thread by thread. Gonzo Tarukanes empire of filth has been pulled down to its foundation, its walls echoing not with screams, but silence. His ledgers burn. His allies scatter. His body... you remember it falling, dont you?
And the Toguro brothers, monuments of terror. crumbled like statues turned to dust. Too fast. Too clean. A perfect ending, perhaps. Too perfect.
Theres a pressure behind your eyes now. A hum beneath your skin. Like a thought you cant quite remember, or a dream you almost woke from. Then: A jolt. The world shifts.
Your body sways gently, side to side. The dull rattle of wheels over uneven pavement hums through your spine. A low engine grumbles beneath your seat. Outside the window: fog, neon, a familiar sleepless skyline flickering like a pulse in the dark. Youre on a bus. And there she is.
Sitting across the aisle, that strange woman in midnight and starlight. Shes smiling warmly, legs crossed, hands folded in her lap. The lights of the town play across her eyes like pale candle flame.
Well done, she says, then gone without so much as a whisper.
The bus hisses. A stop in Haven proper.
Waking from a dream within a dream, or a nightmare smothering you deep, either way, you must have been really exhausted to have taken a nap upon one of Havens trolleys. No weapons, just your casual best, and a pain at the back of your neck and a mask in hand.
This trio's ordeal accelerates as they are transported to a hauntingly empty bus cruising through an ominous landscape, devoid of life yet filled with unseen watchers and voices from beyond. They disembark at a chilling bus stop that borders a forest, which seems to be alive with the whispers of the dead and an oppressive, supernatural mist.
Before they can fully grasp their situation, the group is assaulted by the risen dead, forcing them into a desperate flight towards a distant mansion, which stands as a beacon of false sanctuary. Inside, they face Ototo and Ani, manifestations of terror who test their resolve in brutal combat. Lynette's wit and Elijah's resolve see them through, but not without cost — especially to Elijah, who suffers grievous injuries in the confrontation.
The narrative crescendos in a surreal chamber, where the boundaries of reality blur, leaving the group to confront the essence of their ordeal. Reality shifts, and they are suddenly back in Haven, the city from which their journey inexplicably began. The strange woman — a guide or perhaps a guardian of sorts — commends their triumph, disappearing as mysteriously as she had appeared.
Awakening as if from a dream, they find themselves safe but changed, each holding the tangible symbol of their ordeal: the mask. Yet, the experience leaves them with more questions than answers, a sense of accomplishment mingled with an unease at the realization that their reality may be far more layered and enigmatic than they ever imagined.
This tale, woven with elements of horror, mystery, and a quest for understanding, invites the reader to ponder the nature of reality, the power of unseen forces, and the depth of human resolve in the face of the unknowable.
(Tears of the Hollow - The Spirit Society(SRLorenzo):SRLorenzo)
[Thu Apr 17 2025]
At Dream Within A Dream
The room unfolds like a memory you never lived.
Soft, ambient light filters from nowhere and everywhere, casting no shadows. The walls shimmer between colors, blush gold, deep lavender, ocean blue, as if reflecting your truest desires. The air is comfortable, clean, with a scent that feels familiar, though you can't place it: like childhood summers, first kisses, or a place youve never been but always longed for.
The floor is plush beneath your feet, yielding gently, as if sinking into a marshmallow. Music drifts through the area: subtle, wordless, the rhythm of a heartbeat at peace.
Mirrors line the walls, but these dont show your reflection. They show you as you should be: stronger, wiser, unburdened by scars or sorrow. For a moment, its hard to remember anything else.
In the center stands a fountain, its water impossibly still, reflecting only the version of yourself you want to believe in.
There are no doors. No threats. Only comfort. Perfection. Peace. But the silence lingers too long. And in the stillness, something watches: beneath the fountain, behind the mirrors, within you.
The dream holds you gently. Too gently.
It is morning, about 49F(9C) degrees,
Jane bows
The world begins to blur.
It starts in the edges of your vision: colors bleeding like watercolor in the rain. Your limbs grow heavy, your breath slower. The air turns warm and thick, as though youre sinking into pool of water. Sounds stretch out, distorting into echoes that dont quite return to you. Even your heartbeat feels distant, as if it no longer belongs to you.
A strange stillness overtakes everything. Time stops. From the mist between moments, she appears: A woman floats just beyond reach, dressed in hues of midnight and starlig``299ht. Her hair is a cascade of blue-black, eyes like dusk: kind, amused, and impossibly old. She carries herself with both grace and gravity, as if laughter and death were twin blades at her hip.
In her hands, she holds a mask. Ebony and ivory, one side smiling, the other frowning. The Mourning Veil. She does not ask your name. Instead, her voice hums into your bones.
"You've wandered in darkness long enough. Would you like to see what hunts in them? Join us. The Spirit Society. Earn glory, fortune... or purpose. Test yourself. Rewrite this gruesome world. Be more than a pawn in Haven's cold war."
Her hand extends. Then: You wake. The ground is cold beneath you. Your hands are empty. Except for the mask. Maybe it was a dream.
Jane wakes up rubbing her eyes she is a bit confused on what to make of her situation and where she is holding a mask she puts it away and looks around at her surroundings.
Elijah wakes up with a start, cold sweat on his forehead. He's breathing heavy, his large chest lifting and raising. Realizing it was all just a dream he shakes his head and bristles his mustache. He reaches over to his bed where he keeps his patrol cap, and running a large, rough hand through his hair he places the patrol cap onto his head, where it belongs, and then climbs out of bed. It's not until he's already on his feet and starting to pull his shirt on in front of the mirror that he notices the mask placed, perhaps gently, onto his bedside table. He pauses, leaving his shirt half unbuttoned as he makes his way over, leaning down and picking up the mask with a confused look on his face "... You weren't here when I went to sleep ..."
(fixed?)@me wakes up with a start, cold sweat on his forehead. He's breathing heavy, his large chest lifting and raising. Realizing it was all just a dream he shakes his head and bristles his mustache. He reaches over to his bed where he keeps his patrol cap, and running a large, rough hand through his hair he places the patrol cap onto his head, where it belongs, and then climbs out of bed. It's not until he's already on his feet and starting to pull his shirt on in front of the mirror that he notices the mask placed, perhaps gently, onto his bedside table. He pauses, leaving his shirt half unbuttoned as he makes his way over, leaning down and picking up the mask with a confused look on his face "... You weren't here when I went to sleep ..."
Lynette wakes from her rest as lovely as if it were a normal morning. Only this time she seemed to have something in her hands. Her pretty eyes flutter open, running her fingers along the strange object. "This is more supernatural bullshit, isn't it?" she mutters annoyed, slipping out of bed to pull on some clothes. She had a feeling today wasn't going to be a normal evening.
Jane still a bit lost at the situation she is in, with nearly no knowledge at what is going on began to think, maybe she shouldnt have drank herself near to death at the bar that time, because she is clearly lost and has no clue where she is or why does she have a weird mask, this mask looks expensive though, she hoped she didnt steal it in some sort of drunken stupor.
As you examine, touch, or simply discard the mask memories suddenly come flooding in: knowledge, lore, and everything you could possibly want to know or ask, even try to resist hits your mind like a pulse, until a pain washes over you, as if an electrical current just rocked your entire body:
Crafted by an unnamed artisan rumored to have bargained with a memory-eater, The Mourning Veil is a full-face mask of exquisite design, split perfectly down the middle. The right side is carved from polished ebony, smooth and dark as a midnight confession. Its expression is a serene, hollow smile: a lie of peace. The left side, sculpted from weathered ivory, bears a deep frown, sorrow etched in fine, lifelike lines. Together, the mask reflects the dual truths of the Spirit Society: hope through vengeance, and grief beneath the cause.
Intricate filigree borders the edge of each half, converging at the center where a thin, vertical crack hums faintly with a silver-blue glow when worn. No straps or clasps are visible: it binds to the wearer through intention alone.
Lynette scrunches her nose as her mind in bombarded by memories she wasn't partically inclined to want to know about. She drops the mask on the bed and stares at the thing from across the room, touching her pounding headache it caused. "What the fuck is a memory-eater? Sounds dangerous.." she mutters in annoyance.
"ow what the fuck...huh?" Jane sound panicked, clearly she drank too much...is what she would be thinking, that was way too vivid to be some sort of hangover induced hallucination, whatever that was it isnt normal, staring at the dropped mask she is weighing her decision on picking up the clearly bad vibe mask that gave her weird visions, on one hand it is definitely cursed in some way or another, on the other hand, she is probably cursed by it, she really shouldnt have drank so much yesterday if she knew she would be getting into dangerous situations such as this.
His brow furrows and his mustache bristles once more, Elijah looking down at the strange mask in front of him. His hand raises up to his jacket's breast pocket, the place he usually clipped his radio, intending to radio in this weird ass mask he just found, ask for an arcane expert to be called into the station so they could figure out what it was. His radio wasn't there though, obviously, he'd just gotten out of bed and his shirt wasn't even fully buttoned up. "Damn it all, it's not four in the fucking morning yet" The man grumbles up his breath as clips the mask to the side of his belt with an exasperated sigh, the mask held their by intention alone, and goes back to his mirror. He starts to button up his shirt with a sense of urgency this time.
Your fingers close around the mask, perhaps an irresistible pull, or mayhap it forces itself upon you, either way it hovers, breaking free from its cages, restraints, or wherever it was left to rest, coming a breaths away from your face before too long, and begins to melt onto your visage violently wrapping around until hiding you in anonymity.
The moment you accept, deny, or try to fight fate the world falls away like sand in the wind. Sensation collapses: no weight, no time, only a single heartbeat, echoing through a black so vast it feels like a memory of the universe before creation.
Then: motion. You feel it before you see it. The soft jolt of worn tires over cracked asphalt. The low hum of an engine, steady, almost hypnotic. The scent of dust, exhaust, and something faintly sweet, like dried flowers pressed between forgotten pages.
Your eyes open, youre on a bus, full clothed, battle ready. Its dim inside, lit only by flickering overhead lights that cast long shadows down the aisle. The seats are half-filled: figures slumped in silence, some holding masks just like yours, others wearing them already. No one speaks. No one looks at the driver. Youre not sure there is one.
Outside the window, darkness rolls past: a forest, maybe. Or something pretending to be one. Occasionally, you see faces in the trees. Or reflections that arent yours.
The mask sits in your lap, cool and waiting. A sign flashes by, just visible through the dirty glass: the Spirit Society. No turning back now.
"Fucking hell" Would be the man's first reaction. He was in his riot gear now, an AR-16 strapped to the front of his chest piece. He looks over and spots Lynette and someone also in the bus with him. His mustache bristles as he realizes they're likely as stuck in this situation as he is. He can see their armed too, and it seemed like they were being carted off towards some kind of battle. "Stay with me" Elijah gruffs in their direction, sitting up straight and trying to look like he knew what was going on. "Things are about to get dicey. Stand behind me and you'll miss the worst of it." The man tells them, looking straight ahead, his eyes not visible behind his jet black aviators.
"Fucking hell" Would be the man's first reaction. He was in his riot gear now, an AR-16 strapped to the front of his chest piece. He looks over and spots Lynette and Jane also in the bus with him. His mustache bristles as he realizes they're likely as stuck in this situation as he is. He can see their armed too, and it seemed like they were being carted off towards some kind of battle. "Stay with me" Elijah gruffs in their direction, sitting up straight and trying to look like he knew what was going on. "Things are about to get dicey. Stand behind me and you'll miss the worst of it." The man tells them, looking straight ahead, his eyes not visible behind his jet black aviators.
"...crap this is bad where am i?" Jane rubs her head, in a flash not even giving her a chance to truly backout she is now stuck in some sort of battle bus headed towards an unknown danger, being a civilian for most of her life, she is...very much dead meat, looking at Elijah she nods and trust her life to this someone, who very much looks like he can handle himself better than her.
"...crap this is bad where am i?" Jane rubs her head, in a flash not even giving her a chance to truly backout she is now stuck in some sort of battle bus headed towards an unknown danger, being a civilian for most of her life, she is...very much dead meat, looking at Elijah she nods and trust her life to Elijah, who very much looks like he can handle himself better than her.
Lynette collapses her face into her hands. "I knew it... every fucking time..." she sighs, hearing others on this weird bus starting to panic as well. Lynette ignores them for a moment to look out the window, noticing it was still dark outside, the stupid mask in her lap. Her eyes drift to Jane and Elijah curiously as she adjusts the bow on her back. "Don't worry, I'm an expert at hiding behind others," she smirks.
The bus jerks to a stop with a shudder that rattles through your bones. The door hisses open, but no one announces the stop. No voice, no driver: just the quiet creak of the door lingering too long, as if inviting something in... or letting you out; no forcing you out by some unseen force.
The air hits you like a forgotten dream: cold, heavy, and damp, thick with moss and rust and something sweet beneath it, like chilled berries. Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you step off, the ground uneven, the mist already curling around your ankles like curious fingers.
You stand at a bus stop that feels like a shrine to absence. A cracked bench sits beneath a sagging shelter, its roof blotched with moss. The schedule board is nearly blank, times lost to rain, rust, or something more deliberate. A vending machine hums beside you, too loud, too aware, and every drink inside is full, untouched, collecting dust like forgotten offerings.
A rusted sign creaks in the stillness: Turn Back. Do Not Enter After Dusk. But the forest ahead says otherwise. The bus doors close behind you. You dont remember hearing them. And when you turn to look: The bus is gone.
Lynette tilts her head. "Well then, this must be our stop. Creepy..." she looks towards the pair with her before sliding out of her seat. How weird perspective is. Perhaps if Takeshi was here she'd be panicking more. Instead the supernatural had begun to feel...super mundane. Her shoes click with her steps as she exists, brushing past the others before taking a look around at the new area. "Looks old. Yucky even, I'm not touching that," she huffs dignified with crossed arms. "cheapsaktes..."
Stepping off of the bus, both hands on the AR, his finger splayed out along the side of the trigger guard in proper trigger discipline. He takes one look at the forest, his reaction not entirely visibly behind those broad aviator lenses, and he turns right around and starts to head away from it. "If they brought us here to fight a war, we should head as far away from the battle zone as we can." The man says, setting off at a steady march before pausing to look over his shoulder at both Lynette and Lynette "If you two don't want to fight a war, I suggest you come with me." Elijah announces to them
"i agree with that missus" Jane looks around at the stop they were dropped in, she didnt even get to see her driver with how fast they were just dropped in here Jane looks at Elijah and nods, standing directly behind him as if he is a wall that is safe to hide behind.
Whether you meet destiny, reject fate, or simply flee the dread that looms before you the mist continues to grow, rising, until it becomes all consuming. Maybe you begin to panic, maybe you steel your nerves, or maybe you just don't give a fuck and try to reject your reality. It doesn't matter if you stand, wait, or flee as you can barely see even six inches infront of you, comrades becoming memories at best, but thankfully you can still hear one another, plead for help, or act like this doesn't affect you.
In the end you feel the mist begin to choke you, stealing breath, however their is hope, the mist begins to slowly roll, like a sea being parted, revealing a path, safety? To stay is to surely suffocate, die, who knows? Surely Jane, Elijah, and Lynette value their lives, surely they love breathing, if not stay see if the mists are forgiving or if they will not continue to strangle you until every last bit of oxygen is wrangled from your lungs.
Lynette coughs as the air becomes unbareable. "Fuck, less fighting is preferred. Lead the way officer, get us out of this mist," she holds a hand over her nose and mouth as she heads off in whatever direction he picked, gesturing for Jane to follow them.
Bringing an arm up from his gun to try and cover his mouth from whatever it was that was in this air, Elijah furrows his brow as he continues marching through the mist. As the mist pulls apart and reveals a path to them he glances over his shoulder to try and figure out where those two women were before announcing a sharp "We need to get out of this fog. Follow me." and setting out into a brisk combat jog towards the path revealed!
"gh hack, right behind you cough" Jane follows both Lynette and Elijah, the last thing she wants is to be left behind in this choking fog, there is no point dying in some unknown lands, she wants to go home so she is going to stick to the man who can lead her to safety first.
The deeper you tread into Aokigahara, the more the forest seems to breathe. The air is thick and wet, clinging to your skin like cold fingers. Your breath mists out before you, but there's no wind: only silence, thick and unnatural. Even your footsteps feel muffled, absorbed by the spongy ground and the carpet of fallen leaves that never decompose. Every tree leans just a little too close, their limbs gnarled like twisted limbs reaching for something theyll never grasp.
A whisper rides the mist, then another, familiar voices, dead voices. They echo not in the air, but somewhere behind your ears, close enough to feel but impossible to follow. The hairs on your arms rise, the back of your neck prickles. Something is wrong with the earth itself: it shudders beneath your feet, faint and pulsing, like the heartbeat of something slumbering just beneath the moss.
Then it begins. A soft crack, then another, as the soil splits and fingers, pale and rotted, breach the surface like worms seeking air. The scent of decay swells, thick and sharp. From the earth, forms begin to rise: slow, deliberate, broken things with hollow eyes and slack jaws. They lurch toward you. How many? two!? No, four! Something hungry!? It's coming for you! It moves like Z-day fucking zombies, how? Muscles decayed, fleshing barely hanging on, god they are fast!
"oh god in heaven please tell me i am still drunk back at the bar and this is a dream induced by my drunken mind" Jane stares at what she can clearly see are zombies just sham-no running at them, she looks completely panicked and curses under her breath "fuck, shit, damn" as she just look at the forming horde of rotten flesh starts making its way over to them.
"Fucking hell, undead" The man glowers, his hand instantly goes to where his radio is normally clipped, his first instinct to radio in some backup, but of course, there was no radio, and there was no backup. "GET BACK!" Elijah shouts to Jane and Lynette both, his hands going next to his gun. /CRACK/ /CRACK /CRACK/ /CRACK/ /CRACK /CRACK/ The forest is lit up with muzzle flash and bullets thud into the earth as Elijah sprays at the hands, trying to get as much lead inside of them as he can before they'd gotten up out of the earth. Of course, he can't get all of them, and it's not long before the ones he hadn't managed to shoot, and even some of the ones he had, were charging. He checks to see that Lynette and Jane are running, and if they were, he sets out into a sprint the opposite direction!
Jane is running, away from the zombies she is terrified and panicking.
Lynette scrunches her nose in absolute disgust, especially from the smell. She, in fact, did not immediately run. Instead she reaches to her back, drawing a yami bow off it and aims down at the earth. "Can the dead even die a second time?" she groans. At one point a hand appeared from the earth behind her but was immediately subdued by a falling tree branch from pure luck.
Unable to tell what else to do, she shoots arrows not to kill them, but to pin their limbs to the earth. Once she got a couple down and realized that there were more than she wished to deal with, Lynette would grab Jane by the hand and drag her long through the forest terrain away from the creatures. "Stupid Tsubaki rules, always helping woman bullshit," she mutters through her teeth.
One can't even crawl from the ground before the rattle of Elijah's carbine turns it into swiss cheese, the lead climbing, until popping the things skull open and causing it to slump over with a wet thud; another finds it's legs cut out from under it with the hail of freedom, hamburgers, and some god damn eagle in the distant screeches, however it still had sentience, crawling, lurking towards Elijah, hungry for some Beefcake.
Fate intervenes at such an opportune moment, as a rotted limb from a tree comes crashing down on a third, as echoing 'thwips' pin it to the ground as arrows crack bones and cause flesh to ooze bile, gunk, and something utterly foul smelling. The fourth however shuffles quickly, fast, unphased, instantly locking onto Jane, somehow sensing the weak, the scared, the woman utterly unprepared for a night in the woods, truly just another Jane amongst the Does.
Then a resounding crunch fills the air, a full throated groan echoes in Janes ear, as sharp, cracked, and decaying teeth begin to bite into her back. Luckily a jacket, but the trauma to the flesh alone felt like something wretched her skin and damn near pulled it off!
"Shit." Elijah flicks the safety and lets go of the gun, letting it fall to his hip from the strap on it as he runs over to Jane and slaps both his palms onto the zombie, gripping it at the neck and shoulder before lurching his body and with a mighty heave, tearing the zombie off of her back! He throws it to the ground before giving Jane a sharp shove to keep her running "Keep moving! Go! Go! Go!" He barks loud, turning back to look at the corpse on the ground and bringing his knee up high before stomping the heel of his boot down towards the thing's skull with a rough grunt! "You!" Elijah barks at Lynette "Put your bow away and fucking run!"
Jane who looks like she in deep pain nods all she can really do is run anyways, even if it is painful, though it seems she cant even scream out how much in pain she is with this situation being as it is.
"Huh?" she snaps as he tells her to run. "I will fucking run, but not because you told me to," Lynette makes a show of turning on her heel and heading off again, but like hell she was putting her precious bow away. That was staying clutched in her grasp.
Elijah will require reposts
(repost) "Huh?" she snaps as he tells her to run. "I will fucking run, but not because you told me to," Lynette makes a show of turning on her heel and heading off again, but like hell she was putting her precious bow away. That was staying clutched in her grasp.
(repost) Jane who looks like she in deep pain nods all she can really do is run anyways, even if it is painful, though it seems she cant even scream out how much in pain she is with this situation being as it is.
The zombie is easily pulled to the ground by Elijah, these things are exactly Jet Li, nor the one, and is pinned effortlessly by the brawn of Elijah's strength that could easily throw full beer kegs over a shoulder or pose for those manly men candlers; bears, body builders, maybe the fire fighter edition? Anyways, all that matters is that the things cranium just splits from the sudden curb stopping, a wheeze causes it's chest to deflate, as yellow mucus slimes from its ears and black bile sputters out from those hollow eyes.
The two women flee, the trees, mist, even the moonlight seems to guide them in their attempts to fly from the horrors of Aokigahara. Their feet thud loudly, almost becoming something they can focus on, to push back the fear, the adrenaline, the terror of being lost in a maze of trees, but hark in the distance to the north, on a hill, the very image of a Mansion appears. Shelter! Quickly, run, push back the mucus, the hurt from straining lungs, and the burn of muscles growing fatigued. No telling if another round of suicides, victims, and whatever else lurks comes to rend sinew from bone! No time for heroics! Maybe some snappy quips, but not heroism!
[OOC: Move North at your leisure and after your poses!!!]
The Hollow groans around you: timber shuddering, stone grinding, as if the mansion itself were stretching in its slumber.
Light floods the hallway in nauseating gold, too bright, casting shadows where none should be. The air is moist, hot, and dense with the scent of old perfume, mildew, and something coppery beneath it. Footsteps echo where none are taken. The portraits on the walls twitch at the edges of vision: smiles warping, eyes narrowing.
Then the first slam echoes through the hall.
A door bursts open ahead, slamming shut with such force the walls tremble. Another follows. Then another. Soon, every door in the corridor is opening and slamming shut in wild rhythm: faster, louder. Shutters bang and wail like tortured mouths, banshee cries rising into a deafening chorus. Wind surges where there are no windows. The chandeliers swing violently now, chains groaning as candlelight spasms like a heartbeat out of control.
You cover your ears. It doesn't help. Then, silence. Everything stops. The lights flicker once. Twice. And at the end of the hall, one door remains open: tall, dark, and impossibly still. Something waits beyond it, not watching, expecting.
He was in pretty decent shape, but he was also wearing armor and hauling a rifle so catching up to the other two would be a task. He'd be huffing by the time he caught up with them, but with deep, pulling breaths drawn in through his nose it wouldn't be long before his heaving chest would slowly start to calm down again, the man pacing up to the woman as they stopped in front of the mansion. "Looks like they laid our the red carpet for us ..." Elijah grumbles under his breath as he brings both hands to his rifle once more, finger splayed out across the trigger guard. He looks over his shoulder at the mist that had almost suffocated them to death, and then back to the manor. "We should probably try to take shelter" He says begrudgingly before starting to march up the stairs.
He's almost brought to a knee as the screams tear through the air around him, hunching over with a loud scream of pain, dropping his rifle to it's strap as his hands go up to clench at his ears. Though, as soon as it had started, it was gone. "Shit." Elijah grumbles as he realizes the manor might not be as safe as he'd first hoped, glancing over his shoulder at the mist once more. "On second thought" Elijah remarks to Lynette "Keep the bow" He tells her. He looks to Jane next, bringing a hand to the small of her back "Comon now, we'll get you home soon enough" He tells her
Lynette doesnt look back again and keeps on running. Seems like that cop is cocky enough to deal with the undead on his own, why shouldn't she honor a man with a death wish? A mansion could be spotted in the distance, and while creepy, shelter seemed good... probably.
"Gross... again with this nasty old dying shit," she sighs, wishing to be in the onsen more than ever. She parts her lips for another snotty quip, but the loud nose startles the girl silent. She tilts her head only for more sounds to echo. She takes the moment to hide behind Elijah after all, "yeah.. I wasn't putting it away," she mutters.
Elijah will needs reposts (Again)
(repost) Lynette doesnt look back again and keeps on running. Seems like that cop is cocky enough to deal with the undead on his own, why shouldn't she honor a man with a death wish? A mansion could be spotted in the distance, and while creepy, shelter seemed good... probably.
"Gross... again with this nasty old dying shit," she sighs, wishing to be in the onsen more than ever. She parts her lips for another snotty quip, but the loud nose startles the girl silent. She tilts her head only for more sounds to echo. She takes the moment to hide behind Elijah after all, "yeah.. I wasn't putting it away," she mutters.
The pictures all shudder at once, each faces turns to face Elijah, Jane, and Lynette, eyes blazing with an almost fiery glow; until they begin to laugh, mock, and taunt the trio. Another loud bellow echoes from the single swinging hole in the wall, the doors swaying in place, open, inviting. Yet to stay is to push the boundaries of madness as a disembody voices fill your ears whispering things too foreign, too ancient, too cryptic to understand but it causes you to laugh, chuckle as your mind tries to grip at its sanity.
There's a sharp click as the AR is brought to bear, but it's not fired this time. Elijah pausing as his eyes hidden behind aviators give indescribable expressions. The mustache bristles, his jaw chewing on nothing for a moment before he slowly lowers the gun "I think it's just some kind of illusion." He gruffs to Lynette as he makes his way through the door. "Let's see if we can find the lord of this manor already, see if they've got a phone."
Lynette gets a chill of fear down her spine, attempting to keep her eyes foward and not show it. "Social media is worse," she claims, flipping her hair over one shoulder.
Elijah goes north?
[OOC: Go north at your own leisure!]
The Obsidian Pit breathes around you, heavy and slow, like something asleep beneath the cracked stone is beginning to stir.
The light is harsh, artificial, burning down from flickering spotlights that make the dust dance like ash. Every surface here is scarred. The floor is fractured, pitted with old craters, bloodstains turned black, and deep gouges left by things with too many teeth. Rusted chains sway overhead from unseen rafters, clinking in a rhythm that doesn't match your heartbeat, but somehow knows it.
From the far side of the arena, two figures descend. One towers, a walking mass of controlled destruction. His trench coat clings to his unnatural bulk, black combat boots thudding like war drums on stone. The pompadour, unshaken. The sunglasses, reflective of nothing. When he speaks, its soft; deceptively calm, edged in ice:
"Come. Try not to be too hard on us... we are fragile."
The second moves like smoke dressed in silk; tall, wiry, wrong in every joint. His coat ripples as if alive, his pink shirt vibrant and loud beneath it. His eyes gleam with something cruel behind glazed skin. His smile says he already knows how this ends, his incessant-nasally laughter mocking.
The crowd above whispers. The Pit watches. The arena stills.
A low chuckle slithers from the thinner figure: dry, nasal, cruelly amused. Ani lifts one long-fingered hand and places it flat against his own chest, like a gentleman about to give a toast. Instead, the gesture becomes monstrous. His arm trembles, then stretches: flesh writhing, bones cracking with sickening snaps. His smile never falters.
With a flourish like a magician revealing a trick, Ani bows forward. His entire frame begins to twist: limbs coiling, spine arching unnaturally as skin peels and reforms. His overcoat ripples, melding into the transformation.
Flesh sharpens. Bones elongate. His body folds inward with revolting grace until he is no longer a man, but a blade: massive, crooked, and gleaming like obsidian soaked in ink. Veins pulse just beneath its surface, and his single, lidless eye remains near the hilt, blinking lazily.
Ototo steps forward without a word, taking the contorted weapon from the ground with one massive hand. It fits him perfectly.
The younger brother lifts Ani with practiced ease. The blade vibrates, humming a sound that reverberates in your teeth. The Pit holds its breath. The fight has begun.
"Hey now, I'm a lover not a fighter," Lynette swallows nervously, glancing towards the cop as if for support. She draws her bow from her back, pulling an arrow taught before aiming lower at the ground. With a single shot fired she seemed to plan to pinning his foot to the floor to prevent his movement foward. "Can you you fight?" she mutters towards the cop.
Elijah looks over his shoulder, and then to Lynette and then to the man in the center of the pit "Wait ..." Elijah says in a confused, dreading tone. His eyes weren't visible, but surely they were full of fear "Are ... We ... Supposed to fight this man?" Elijah asks, looking over to the man in the center. Not descending into the pit himself, Elijah calls out to the man from the edge of it, gun lowered non threateningly towards the ground. "Excuse me, sir." Elijah addresses the /thing/ politely as he can "Me and my compatriots have taken shelter from those suffocating mists out in this here manor. We're in search of the home owner in hopes of finding a phone we can use to call for an officer to come pick us up" Elijah tells the man "Would you please drop your frie- the weapon, and inform us where we can find somelpace to call home."
Elijah looks over to Lynette and gives her a look hidden by his aviators. "I can fight a drunken man in a bar. I don't know what this guy is, but I probably can't fight him." Elijah informs her quite matter of factly, talking low so the demon thing couldn't hear them
Ototo looks to Lynette, almost bemused at her wittle arrow singing into his trousers, through his boot, and with a sicking crunch against his flesh. You see the blood, clearly the man can bleed, but the arrows begins to slowly rise, pushing itself out from the foot, out of the boot, and onto the ground. The man rolls his neck, spits at the ground, while the sword in his hand begins to laugh uncontrollably, incessantly, and insufferably never ending.
Ototo then looks to Elijah from behind his glasses, then to Jane as she begins to lock up in fear, before he comes lumbering forward, and for such a large thing he moves incredibly fast.
He's on them in seconds, hoisting up Jane up in the air by the scruff of her neck before throwing her aside and into a wall with a resounding crack. He smiles, then looks down from his towering height at Elijah and Lynette, "Welcome, let's enjoy ourselves."
He winces as the woman is slammed into the wall, but it wasn't like it was his first time dealing with a man with a strange knee growth deciding to attack instead of talk when addressed by a police officer. His weapon is brought up, and a legally required "DROP THE WEAPON!" Is bellowed by Elijah opens fire. More muzzle flash as Elijah does his best to try and mag dump the demon, hoping his gun might create more of a result than someone 's bow had as he belts burst after controlled burst into the creature from the side.
He winces as the woman is slammed into the wall, but it wasn't like it was his first time dealing with a man with a strange knee growth deciding to attack instead of talk when addressed by a police officer. His weapon is brought up, and a legally required "DROP THE WEAPON!" Is bellowed by Elijah opens fire. More muzzle flash as Elijah does his best to try and mag dump the demon, hoping his gun might create more of a result than Lynette 's bow had as he belts burst after controlled burst into the creature from the side.
Lynette flinches at the sound of him breaking the woman's neck. "I dont think she's gunna be okay," Lynette whinces. "I wonder if there's a way to... unalive them again..." she mutters and moves away from the cop to search the room. As if activated from her thoughts alone, her magic would swell, following the girl around like little fairy lights. "If we can't kill it, we could at least try to restrain it. Maybe I can do some sort of purifying bullshit onto it," Lynette calls over her shoulder as she searches for something useful, starting by gathering chains along the wall.
The monster's body responds to the flurry of bullets, the heat alone causing a sizzing sound as it rips through the thing, punching through, and out the other end; more blood, more holes, more sickening sounds of flesh being ripped apart, but Ototo looks almost unfazed; the laughing continues from Ani, it's obnoxious at this point as much as that 'man' was bellowing from that unblinking eye that constantly whips back and forth between Elijah and Lynette.
Ototo takes a moment to pause, until he blades his stance, place the weapon that his brother is at his back side, and then without warning chambers a kick and sends it straight for Lynette's chest, "Ladies first." He says in a cold definitive way as the foot comes roaring towards her with enough might to crack bones.
Their are chains everywhere, hanging from the ceiling unseen, dangling from the walls, and lazily laying on the floor.
Just as the kick is about to connect with the chest of Lynette, a strange out of place light would stream through the room. Enough to blind the grotesque creature from getting a clear shot as Lynette dives out of the way. Lynette was a delicate thing after all, can't afford to have her ribs broken yet.
Just as the kick is about to connect with the chest of Lynette, a strange out of place light would stream through the room. Enough to blind the grotesque creature from getting a clear shot as Lynette dives out of the way. Lynette was a delicate thing after all, can't afford to have her ribs broken yet.
Elijah takes the brunt of the kick, his abdomen damn near turns to jelly, and you swore you heard a bone crack, but you move it just enough to stop the full force of the kick to land solidly on Lynette and keep it from turning her into a was and were. Ototo lips curl into a small smile, as he raises a hand to protect his eyes, "Clever, better thing of something fast, you might die."
Elijah takes a running dive to try and put himself between Lynette and the kick, his eyes squeezing shut in pain as he gets hurled across the room by the kick! Rolling too his back, and too compromised now to get up, he sits up what little he can from the position he's in and levies his gun again "... Fuck ... You ..." The man gurgles at Otto, blood spilling out the corners of his mouth as he takes advantage of the distraction Lynette was creating to take aim at the creatures head, and pull the trigger ...
Lynette grimances at the sight of Elijah taking the blow for me. She decides to use this opportunity of distraction to lock a manacle around the foot of the monster still planted on the floor. It was still attached to the wall by a chain, so if successfully locked Lynette would quickly scurry out of his range of movement.
Another assault, no pun intended, of hot lead flies from the carbine and with the light causing Ototo to pause momentarily gives him a solid, still, and unmoving target. All Elijah can hear is solid hits: snap, crackle, pop. Then nothing, the light begins to fade, and the image of Ototo becomes clearer, the monster is just standing their. Until its body goes limp, crumpling to the floor, falling forward, and its forehead slamming against the cold floor.
Something is off however, not right, too easy, even if those hits landed, hit their mark, and put foreign objects into gray matter. The chain rattles like a snake as he finally settles on the floor, anchored to him, his head full of holes seeps out blood, its red, its flowing, and it isn't stopping; just a like any other supernatural would go down from a clear dome shot. Yay team work?
Lynette stares at the creature with a disturbed look on her face. "Ew.." she hums, tilting her head as she gets the mask out, covering his deformed face with it. "I think thats a little better," she steps back out of reach again just in case.
Given his midsection was still mostly jelly, Elijah wasn't going to be getting up to his feet. He laboriously pushes himself towards the side wall of the pit to prop himself up, panting heavily as he twists his gun to send the magazine flying out, patting at his belt for the second, taking a few seconds to find it before pushing it into the gun with shaking hands. "F ... Fucking hell ..." Elijah groans out in pain, wincing hard as he looks over at the corpse on the ground "I get the feeling he isn't gunna stay down" Elijah tells Lynette "See if you can find more chains to chain him up, and after that, look for a phone ... I think I'm gunna need some medical attention quick."
The body doesn't move, blood just gushes out of Ototo's cranium, even the sword that is Ani lays dormant on the ground. The pit is nothing but a hush whisper, the things you can't see talking amongst themselves, almost in shock belief at the turn of events, with the only thing to break the sound of peanut gallery and Elijah and Lynette's murmurs, was the faint wails coming from the north: melodramatic, haunting, and eerie.
Unless Lynette grows wings or pulls iron from stone she would get no more chains to wrap the Toguro's up in.
Propping the gun against his hip in the general direction of the creature Elijah expected to start moving any second now, Elijah gestures with his head towards the door "Go ahead of me" Elijah tells Lynette in a gurgling voice "Look for a phone. I'm only going to slow you down like this." Elijah tells her before looking back at the creature with weak eyes, trying to keep his eyes locked on it, but clearly struggling to even stay awake at this point.
Lynette looks at the officer confused before she remembers normal people dont instantly heal like demons do. "Shit," she scoffs coming over to his side. She pulls out her golden smartphone, checking for a signal while looking down the hallway. "Where even are we? Fuck.."
No cell reception, no signal, no bars. Bubkis, nada, try again never.
OOC: Move north at your leisure and poses!?
The light here is blinding. Not warm, not kind: just bright, sterile, unfeeling. It pours through stained glass depictions of agony and holiness twisted together, painting the stone floor in bleeding reds and saintly golds. But there is no heat in it. Only exposure. A sense that nothing hides here... except what must.
The air is heavy with rosewater, cloying sweet, masking the faint sting of rust beneath it. Every breath feels perfumed and poisoned. The drapes whisper softly, yet nothing exists to move. The walls are far too quiet.
Your skin tingles as you step past the threshold: wards buzz faintly in your ears, just below sound, like a gnat that knows your name.
The lullaby scratches through the air, warped and cyclical, like a lullaby buried in your ear. The chandelier flickers above, casting wraithlike shadows that stretch across the bed: a beautiful thing carved from bone and built to drain. You feel its hunger. It recognizes strength. It waits to take it.
Chains gleam of silver, humming faintly with enchantment. In the corner, the mirror stares back. But not with your face. Others are watching. Theyve been watching. And now the Fae Child stirs.
Elijah manages to lurch his way into the room behind Lynette, sweat forming on his brow as he sees a bed in the room. Finally, someplace to rest, much better than slumped against the wall in the previous room. He makes his way forwards, pausing as he notices the child already in the bed. His mustache bristles for a moment. "It's not weird if I sleep foot to head, is it?" Elijah asks, with a sigh, not magically aware enough to know he might be in danger if he lies down in that bed ...#
As her phone fails, Lynette tries to half drag half help the officer into the next room. Here it seems a little nicer than other rooms, but that wasn't a very high bar. Lynette was about to search for medical supplies, helping Elijah towwrds the bed, but she was distracted by the mirror. It wasn't unusual for Lynette to be distracted by a mirror, but horrifyingly she wasn't able to see her own reflection in it. She couldn't help but stare, trying to understand the unfamiliar being.
Something glitches, the room begins to pulse, vibrate, become like static, as if the matrix had a huge conniption.
The chains that once drained the Fae Childs strength lie shattered, her silken prison unraveled thread by thread. Gonzo Tarukanes empire of filth has been pulled down to its foundation, its walls echoing not with screams, but silence. His ledgers burn. His allies scatter. His body... you remember it falling, dont you?
And the Toguro brothers, monuments of terror. crumbled like statues turned to dust. Too fast. Too clean. A perfect ending, perhaps.
Something glitches, the room begins to pulse, vibrate, become like static, as if the matrix had a huge conniption.
The chains that once drained the Fae Childs strength lie shattered, her silken prison unraveled thread by thread. Gonzo Tarukanes empire of filth has been pulled down to its foundation, its walls echoing not with screams, but silence. His ledgers burn. His allies scatter. His body... you remember it falling, dont you?
And the Toguro brothers, monuments of terror. crumbled like statues turned to dust. Too fast. Too clean. A perfect ending, perhaps. Too perfect.
Theres a pressure behind your eyes now. A hum beneath your skin. Like a thought you cant quite remember, or a dream you almost woke from. Then: A jolt. The world shifts.
Your body sways gently, side to side. The dull rattle of wheels over uneven pavement hums through your spine. A low engine grumbles beneath your seat. Outside the window: fog, neon, a familiar sleepless skyline flickering like a pulse in the dark. Youre on a bus. And there she is.
Sitting across the aisle, that strange woman in midnight and starlight. Shes smiling warmly, legs crossed, hands folded in her lap. The lights of the town play across her eyes like pale candle flame.
Well done, she says, then gone without so much as a whisper.
The bus hisses. A stop in Haven proper.
Waking from a dream within a dream, or a nightmare smothering you deep, either way, you must have been really exhausted to have taken a nap upon one of Havens trolleys. No weapons, just your casual best, and a pain at the back of your neck and a mask in hand.