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rhodos_meme2022-08-10 10:12 am
rhodosmods) wrote in rhodos_meme2022-08-10 10:12 am
Entry tags:
TDM #1
TDM #1: AUGUST
Jump to: Arrival · Sound and Light · Into the Fog · Waking Up to a Nightmare · The Bonfire
Summary · Questions
Summary · Questions
The buildings of the plaza are all medieval stone construction, but they all have modern awnings and glass fronts. Tables out front display tourist wares: little plastic statuettes, postcards, t-shirts. Among these, it's easy to identify Greek lettering, Greek gods, photos of Athens and Crete. Predominant among the souvenirs are items marked with the name Rhodos.
But there are no vendors selling their wares. Even if characters wander into the shops, they are all empty as if their owners just stepped away for a moment. Lights are on, and some of the larger and nicer shops even have the whirr of air conditioning. Food stands waft the aroma of freshly grilled kebabs, and a gelato cart is cold to the touch and the ice cream inside is frosty and delicious.
The plaza where you arrive is set on a slope, and the direction of the sea breeze and the faint sound of waves against a shore indicates pretty strongly that down-slope is the direction of the sea. But looking down the slope from the main plaza, you can see an open archway in a tall stone wall, and beyond it is nothing but mist. Despite the clear sunny day in the plaza, the mist is a dense fog with barely three feet of visibility. If you enter it, you can see your own arms in front of you, but nothing beyond that. The breeze has gone still and the waves no longer sound so much like waves--the sound is warped through the mist so that it almost sounds like sobbing. After about five minutes of determined walking across what feels like flat ground with no other landmarks, you find yourself back at the archway.
Housing can easily be scavenged. Doors are unlocked and the interiors are clean and welcoming, beds freshly made, as if it is a hotel that's been prepared for you rather than anyone's personal residence. And yet, once you've settled upon a place to live, you start to find little signs that you have lived here all along. The photographs on the wall (which weren't there when you first arrived) depict you and your family and friends, even if you came from a world without photography. Upon arrival, you have only the clothing you are wearing, but within a day the closet begins to fill with familiar outfits from home, and within the first week you may find up to five of your own possessions around your new residence.
Note: Wardrobe is limited to what you can reasonably fit inside a non-walk-in apartment closet, what your character would reasonably wear and possess in canon, or what can be scavenged around town. There are two very small clothing boutiques where you can find most basics and a few cute outfits. For starting possessions two may be weapons or magical items, but you may have an additional three mundane items. All other personal items can only be obtained through regains or events.
The first few days in your new home are relatively uneventful. The days are hot and sunny and the nights are warm beneath a dazzling starry sky.
After not quite a week, the noises of a spectacle will lead characters to a small gate in one of the outer walls with steps leading down into the outer moat. The fog surrounding the city walls has drawn back for just this one little area, revealing an open air theater butting up against the castle wall. A path leads away from the theater on either side, but if you walk into the mist on either side you will promptly find yourself walking out of the mist on the opposite side, as if you'd circumnavigated the entire moat in just a few steps. Behind the theater is another high stone wall. Centuries of weathering has added rough footholds and handholds, but it would be a dangerous climb without equipment. Trees grow from the top of the wall, sticking limbs out of the wall of mist and clawing roots into the stones at the top, loosening them so that they're ready to slip at a touch.
The play that is projected onto the wall features shadow puppets, colored lights, and canned soundtrack special effects like the clop of horses hooves or the burst of trumpets. There is no dialogue or narration, so the story can only be roughly pieced together: there is a king and a queen, then a betrayal that leads to the king's murder. Later, the king and the queen appear again, participating in a ritual which seems to involve human sacrifice, a war and a triumphal procession, and then another betrayal and the king is murdered again.
The story repeats three times every night before shutting itself off. The first performance starts at twilight, and each repetition lasts about twenty minutes. Characters who watch it repeatedly will get the sense that it's slightly different each time, but the whole thing is complicated and confusing without any narration or dialogue to provide context, so characters will struggle to pin down how it's different. A slide projector is set up at the top of the amphitheater, with a pair of old speakers on either side of it. If slides are removed from the projector, they show only blank, uncolored plastic. If something is placed in front of the projector light, the scene is projected onto that object. The projector can be turned off, unplugged, or smashed. No matter what is done to it, as soon as no one is actively watching it, it is restored to an undamaged status and resumes playing.
After watching an entire repetition of the performance, some characters may be overcome by a fit of weeping. Tears roll down your cheeks and you can't seem to catch your breath. Despair clutches at your heart, colored by your own personal sorrows, and the weeping can only be stopped by receiving an embrace.
Others may find that the performance inspires them to reminisce. No matter how secretive you might normally be, you find yourself turning to whoever is sitting near you and telling them a story from your past, something that makes you nostalgic or regretful.
After not quite a week, the noises of a spectacle will lead characters to a small gate in one of the outer walls with steps leading down into the outer moat. The fog surrounding the city walls has drawn back for just this one little area, revealing an open air theater butting up against the castle wall. A path leads away from the theater on either side, but if you walk into the mist on either side you will promptly find yourself walking out of the mist on the opposite side, as if you'd circumnavigated the entire moat in just a few steps. Behind the theater is another high stone wall. Centuries of weathering has added rough footholds and handholds, but it would be a dangerous climb without equipment. Trees grow from the top of the wall, sticking limbs out of the wall of mist and clawing roots into the stones at the top, loosening them so that they're ready to slip at a touch.
The story repeats three times every night before shutting itself off. The first performance starts at twilight, and each repetition lasts about twenty minutes. Characters who watch it repeatedly will get the sense that it's slightly different each time, but the whole thing is complicated and confusing without any narration or dialogue to provide context, so characters will struggle to pin down how it's different. A slide projector is set up at the top of the amphitheater, with a pair of old speakers on either side of it. If slides are removed from the projector, they show only blank, uncolored plastic. If something is placed in front of the projector light, the scene is projected onto that object. The projector can be turned off, unplugged, or smashed. No matter what is done to it, as soon as no one is actively watching it, it is restored to an undamaged status and resumes playing.
After watching an entire repetition of the performance, some characters may be overcome by a fit of weeping. Tears roll down your cheeks and you can't seem to catch your breath. Despair clutches at your heart, colored by your own personal sorrows, and the weeping can only be stopped by receiving an embrace.
Others may find that the performance inspires them to reminisce. No matter how secretive you might normally be, you find yourself turning to whoever is sitting near you and telling them a story from your past, something that makes you nostalgic or regretful.
CONTENT WARNING: Cruelty and violence against (monster) dogs
After the characters have been in Rhodos for about three weeks, a heavy fog rolls into town. Unlike the mist that surrounds the city, the fog smells of smoke. Visibility is reduced to a mere ten or fifteen feet.
The electricity goes out, and shops are no longer replenished. Food may still be scavenged, but the food in shops and restaurants will slowly rot and may run out. Battery operated items will continue to work as long as the batteries still have a charge. Running water inside the houses continues to work, but it is sluggish and smells stale, leaving an unpleasant film on the skin.
While out on the streets of the town, characters will begin to encounter the monster dogs of Rhodos. The sound of a dragging chain precedes them, and then the hazy outline of a dog comes into view. It's walking oddly, however, with a sort of staggering limp, and the sound of the chain is underlaid by a low, feral growl. Furless gray skin peels away in patches to reveal bloody muscle. The heavy iron collar around the neck is studded with long black screws, the ends of which pierce the skin of the neck. Hazy eyes are clouded with decomposition, and yet that doesn't seem to prevent the dog from making its way straight toward you.
The dogs are not very fast, nor very smart. They can be outpaced at a brisk walk, and they will lose track of any character who gets more than twenty feet away or behind a closed door. But they are vicious. If you get within a few feet, they will lunge at you and attempt to bite. If two or three of them manage to corner you in a blind alley, you could be in real trouble.
In addition to the dogs, characters will begin to catch glimpses of Manifestations, both their own or those of others. At first you might just catch a glimpse of them through a break in the fog, but after a day or two they can be spotted standing outside of apartment windows and staring in. In either case, they will not approach or attack characters unless you're foolish enough to get within six feet of them. Then, they will attack, and they will pursue at a fast walk until they lose track of you in the fog.
After the characters have been in Rhodos for about three weeks, a heavy fog rolls into town. Unlike the mist that surrounds the city, the fog smells of smoke. Visibility is reduced to a mere ten or fifteen feet.
The electricity goes out, and shops are no longer replenished. Food may still be scavenged, but the food in shops and restaurants will slowly rot and may run out. Battery operated items will continue to work as long as the batteries still have a charge. Running water inside the houses continues to work, but it is sluggish and smells stale, leaving an unpleasant film on the skin.
The dogs are not very fast, nor very smart. They can be outpaced at a brisk walk, and they will lose track of any character who gets more than twenty feet away or behind a closed door. But they are vicious. If you get within a few feet, they will lunge at you and attempt to bite. If two or three of them manage to corner you in a blind alley, you could be in real trouble.
In addition to the dogs, characters will begin to catch glimpses of Manifestations, both their own or those of others. At first you might just catch a glimpse of them through a break in the fog, but after a day or two they can be spotted standing outside of apartment windows and staring in. In either case, they will not approach or attack characters unless you're foolish enough to get within six feet of them. Then, they will attack, and they will pursue at a fast walk until they lose track of you in the fog.
CONTENT WARNING: Blood imagery
On the 28th, characters are awakened by the sound of their front doors being smashed in. It's your own smashing door that awakens you, but you can hear more distant sounds of destruction from the other apartments nearby.
As you scramble out of your bed, you find that the homey, quilted bedding has been soaked through with blood, and it's sagging in the middle with the outline of a human body. But before you have a chance to properly react to that horror, your Manifestation is coming through your bedroom door — more than one of them, if you were sharing that bed with anyone.
You will have to fight or dodge in order to get out of the room. Your Manifestation is out for your blood. You can do damage to it, creating deep wounds and heavy bruises, causing it to stagger and slow for a moment, but no matter how much damage you do it keeps coming for you. Sooner or later, you will need to run.
When you make it out into the streets, you'll find that the entire world has changed. Heavy darkness fills the city, and no stars are visible in the sky. A few lights glow despite the lack of electricity, but they only provide a sickly, red-tinted light. Streets are slick with something that looks like blood, and the stone walls in many places have been transformed into metal or grate. Through the grate, you can catch glimpses of black metal hooks and gory, dripping meat that looks human in origin.
There is no palatable food or water. Anything you have saved has rotted or changed unnaturally into what looks like rotting flesh or lumps of bile. Liquid has turned into blood or black water. The only mercy is that symptoms of hunger, thirst and fatigue stabilize after 24 hours and don't get any worse. Don't worry, it won't be the dehydration that kills you here.
Your Manifestation pursues you tirelessly, and the monster dogs are faster, smarter, and moving in packs. Your home is no longer safe, and staying on the streets is deadly.
On the 28th, characters are awakened by the sound of their front doors being smashed in. It's your own smashing door that awakens you, but you can hear more distant sounds of destruction from the other apartments nearby.
As you scramble out of your bed, you find that the homey, quilted bedding has been soaked through with blood, and it's sagging in the middle with the outline of a human body. But before you have a chance to properly react to that horror, your Manifestation is coming through your bedroom door — more than one of them, if you were sharing that bed with anyone.
You will have to fight or dodge in order to get out of the room. Your Manifestation is out for your blood. You can do damage to it, creating deep wounds and heavy bruises, causing it to stagger and slow for a moment, but no matter how much damage you do it keeps coming for you. Sooner or later, you will need to run.
There is no palatable food or water. Anything you have saved has rotted or changed unnaturally into what looks like rotting flesh or lumps of bile. Liquid has turned into blood or black water. The only mercy is that symptoms of hunger, thirst and fatigue stabilize after 24 hours and don't get any worse. Don't worry, it won't be the dehydration that kills you here.
Your Manifestation pursues you tirelessly, and the monster dogs are faster, smarter, and moving in packs. Your home is no longer safe, and staying on the streets is deadly.
CONTENT WARNING: Body horror, immolation
Sooner or later, you find your way to the bonfire in the middle of the fountain square. There is no longer water in the fountain. Instead, the whole thing towers with flame, fueled by a viscous black substance in the basin.
A tall man stands by the fountain, gazing into the flames as if he is supervising. His suit is true black, fathomless black, while his skin is a dark red-black like the newly formed crust upon a lava flow. His eyes are black pools reflecting the flames. He takes no interest in any approaching characters, and will not respond to any questions. The only thing that will draw his attention to you is an attempted attack. If you try it, your blow lands, but he doesn't seem to take any damage. His head turns toward you and he considers you for a moment, as if he finds it intriguing that you would attempt such a thing. Then he returns his attention to the fire.
The dogs and the Manifestations will not pursue you into the circle of light cast by the bonfire. You can find a sort of respite here.
Time passes. It feels like days, though there is no way to mark the passage of time. The Dark Figure continues to supervise the bonfire.
At last, your attention is drawn to a sort of commotion approaching down one of the main streets that feeds into the plaza. You hear a rattling of metal, and a sort of gibbering moan. The bonfire illuminates first upon a pale, faceless figure which seems to writhe as it approaches, hovering above the paving stones. As it grows closer, you see that the figure is lashed to a square metal frame and bound with strips of barbed wire. Veiled figures on either side bear it forward, and the Dark Figure turns to watch it approach.
The figure upon the frame has no face and no mouth with which to make its agonized moans, but it continues nonetheless. It has limbs but no hands or feet, each limb ending in smooth stumps.
If no one interferes, the Handmaidens carry the frame forward and place it upon the fire.
The Handmaidens can be attacked, and hurt. They cry out indignantly at any attack, and recoil. They will not fight back, but they also will not be discouraged from their task by anything less than persistent violence.
If the pale figure on the frame is rescued by the player characters, it flails and gibbers helplessly, continuing to moan. If the pale figure is consigned to the flames, it begins to scream, and continues screaming for several minutes until the flame finally overcomes it.
In either situation, you begin to cough. Blood spills from your mouth, dribbling down your chin and spattering upon your clothing. But then the droplets begin to slither into letters, forming words that spell out your deepest guilt, in the words you yourself would use to describe it. No attempt to wipe the words away or cover them will prevent their legibility. The blood shines through whatever covers it, catching the firelight so that those around you can clearly read the words.
The Dark Figure and his Handmaidens made their exit while you were coughing. You are left alone with the other Tourists around you, your guilt, and whatever remains of the pale figure upon the frame.
Sooner or later, you find your way to the bonfire in the middle of the fountain square. There is no longer water in the fountain. Instead, the whole thing towers with flame, fueled by a viscous black substance in the basin.
A tall man stands by the fountain, gazing into the flames as if he is supervising. His suit is true black, fathomless black, while his skin is a dark red-black like the newly formed crust upon a lava flow. His eyes are black pools reflecting the flames. He takes no interest in any approaching characters, and will not respond to any questions. The only thing that will draw his attention to you is an attempted attack. If you try it, your blow lands, but he doesn't seem to take any damage. His head turns toward you and he considers you for a moment, as if he finds it intriguing that you would attempt such a thing. Then he returns his attention to the fire.
The dogs and the Manifestations will not pursue you into the circle of light cast by the bonfire. You can find a sort of respite here.
At last, your attention is drawn to a sort of commotion approaching down one of the main streets that feeds into the plaza. You hear a rattling of metal, and a sort of gibbering moan. The bonfire illuminates first upon a pale, faceless figure which seems to writhe as it approaches, hovering above the paving stones. As it grows closer, you see that the figure is lashed to a square metal frame and bound with strips of barbed wire. Veiled figures on either side bear it forward, and the Dark Figure turns to watch it approach.
The figure upon the frame has no face and no mouth with which to make its agonized moans, but it continues nonetheless. It has limbs but no hands or feet, each limb ending in smooth stumps.
If no one interferes, the Handmaidens carry the frame forward and place it upon the fire.
The Handmaidens can be attacked, and hurt. They cry out indignantly at any attack, and recoil. They will not fight back, but they also will not be discouraged from their task by anything less than persistent violence.
If the pale figure on the frame is rescued by the player characters, it flails and gibbers helplessly, continuing to moan. If the pale figure is consigned to the flames, it begins to scream, and continues screaming for several minutes until the flame finally overcomes it.
In either situation, you begin to cough. Blood spills from your mouth, dribbling down your chin and spattering upon your clothing. But then the droplets begin to slither into letters, forming words that spell out your deepest guilt, in the words you yourself would use to describe it. No attempt to wipe the words away or cover them will prevent their legibility. The blood shines through whatever covers it, catching the firelight so that those around you can clearly read the words.
The Dark Figure and his Handmaidens made their exit while you were coughing. You are left alone with the other Tourists around you, your guilt, and whatever remains of the pale figure upon the frame.
Arrival: August 1
Sound and Light: August 5-20
Into the Fog: August 21-27
Waking Up to a Nightmare: August 28-30
The Bonfire: August 31
Welcome to Rhodos! Going forward, events will take place in two parts. The Normal World part of the event posted on the 5th of each month, and it will be a lighter event both in terms of length and thematic content. TDMs will be bi-monthly and will feature an event element or elements for the Normal World which in-game characters may also play with on their own log posts. The sections on Fog and Nightmare worlds for the TDM will generally be the same every month, allowing players to test drive those elements if they'd like, but not including spoilers for the second part of that month's event. The second part of the event will be posted on the 20th of each month, covering events occurring through both the Fog and Nightmare cycles.
Test drive memes are considered game canon.
This won't always be the case, but for the nerds among you who are enjoying this sometimes-accurate tour of Rhodes, all location images in this TDM and housing are accurate to Rhodes.
Lastly, we are in need of mods! We're most in need of help for processing apps and activity. If we aren't able to get some additional mods, we will have to place a cap on applications, and we're hoping we won't have to do that. If you're interested, please send us a message over on the mod contact page. We've gotten the mod volunteers we needed so we should be all clear to proceed without an applications cap. Thank you to everyone who showed interest!
Sound and Light: August 5-20
Into the Fog: August 21-27
Waking Up to a Nightmare: August 28-30
The Bonfire: August 31
Welcome to Rhodos! Going forward, events will take place in two parts. The Normal World part of the event posted on the 5th of each month, and it will be a lighter event both in terms of length and thematic content. TDMs will be bi-monthly and will feature an event element or elements for the Normal World which in-game characters may also play with on their own log posts. The sections on Fog and Nightmare worlds for the TDM will generally be the same every month, allowing players to test drive those elements if they'd like, but not including spoilers for the second part of that month's event. The second part of the event will be posted on the 20th of each month, covering events occurring through both the Fog and Nightmare cycles.
Test drive memes are considered game canon.
This won't always be the case, but for the nerds among you who are enjoying this sometimes-accurate tour of Rhodes, all location images in this TDM and housing are accurate to Rhodes.
waking up to a nightmare
not a lot, maybe. because who knows what was chasing her? but at least a little. less active threat incoming and more on edge that it might show up soon. )
I don't. I don't want to hurt you. I promise. ( anyone that looks vaguely human and has enough sense of mind to want to avoid violence, Steve has no intention of fighting. he's had to fight human beings before. these days he won't do it for pride, mostly because there aren't any other options. fight, or stand back and watch someone else get hurt. that wasn't an option for Steve, so it's not like he regrets squaring up with Billy. knocking out that Russian. but it's not something he liked doing, either, and he won't do it just for sport, just for the thrill.
Steve hastily stumbles closer to join her at the door, worried from how she busted into it that something might break it down after her. there's nothing at the entrances to the apartment to barricade the door, so probably it's not in their best interest to stick around long. ) What is it? More of those damn dogs? ( is it bizarre or what, that he wishes it were the dogs? the things he's seen lately, he'd rather deal with the monster dogs. )
no subject
I hope it's just the dogs. [ Her voice is soft but strung tight, and though her throat wants to close before her mouth can form the words, she makes herself continue. ] If you start to hear wheels squeaking, we have to run.
[ Just mentioning that sound is enough to make her stomach tighten, and Aerith forces herself to take another deep, slow breath, striving for a sense of steadiness, knowing she needs it now more than ever. As a precaution she turns her head so she's at a better angle to listen through the door, still watching Steve as she does. As much as she doesn't want to hear those wheels, she wants to be caught off-guard by them even less. ]
Is something after you too?
hello im still alive ... i am a teacher and i went back to school and it has been Rough
Steve scruffs at his hair, an obvious nervous gesture. ) There's this... tall thing, after me. Dresses like a lame dad, think Mr. Rogers. We should... we should high tail it if we see him, too. ( it feels a little self centered, to assume that the tall dark and not at all handsome number is fixated on him, personally. it's just... well. it sure seems like it is. plus it reminds Steve a little too much of home, what with the flickering lights, like your average Upside Down creature.
he is not mentally prepared to unpack what it might mean, that a monster resembling a father slowly ambles after her with disembodied, broken sighs. he is not ready to buddy up with it and ask it questions, either, so as it is avoiding it is the best option they have. )
hi i am so sorry for how late this is
Hopefully, if we just stay quiet. Right?
[ Regardless of whether or not he's equipped to reassure her knowledgeably, Aerith can't stop herself from trying to find something to hold onto.
From outside there's a noise that makes her draw a sharp breath and pull her staff closer to her chest before she glances at him again, trying to get a read on his face and determined how worried she needs to get. ]
look i totally understand 😭
There's gotta be some place these things don't go. If we stay quiet and find it... ( Steve trails off, because frankly he has no idea what that place would even be. he's tried holing up in all sorts of places, it doesn't work. doesn't help, the thing that is after him (or at least seems like it has a personal bone to pick with him) just won't let up. his grip tightens slightly on his bat, because frankly? being the decider is not Steve's thing. he's usually surrounded by tiny people with better ideas, more knowledge, and at least a lot more confidence. he's good at standing between squishies and danger, not necessarily deciding what is the best plan of attack will be.
apparently, he thinks about it about .2 seconds too long, and there's a slow, slogging pad of footsteps. barely loud enough to notice, if you aren't listening for it. unfortunately, Steve has heard a lot of those footsteps in the past 12 hours, he's pretty used to it by now. and the heavy, difficult sigh — garbled and broken, like there's too much fluid or blood trapped in the lungs of something that refuses to stay down. the look on his face is indication enough that whatever is out there, is not the dogs. and not something he'd like either of them to have to face off with. )
We... we gotta go. Not this way. ( because Steve is suddenly quite sure what is outside that door. the footsteps are definitely getting closer, aren't they? ) Fuck! C'mon, c'mon c'mon. ( Steve pulls at Aerith's arm, just to get her momentum going. there's gotta be another exit to this building somewhere, right? and they gotta find it, and get through it, and be somewhere else. )
no subject
Transfixed and terrified, it's a good thing that Steve has the sense to tug at her arm and urge her into motion, it lets Aerith shake off some of the fear locking her feet to the floor while she listened to that ghastly sound. ]
Should we check the back? If there's a window maybe it leads onto an alley instead of the street?
[ Not that getting cornered in an alley is a good option, but maybe they'll be lucky enough that they'll find nothing worse than a few of those dogs.
The irony of the thought isn't lost on her, despite the panic. Aerith hates the way that the dogs have become a preferable alternative to anything, but she doesn't want to take her chances with the thing Steve says is looking for him.
Doubling down on the grip she keeps on her staff, Aerith uses it to gesture towards a row of narrow windows left boarded up after the town's change. ]
Over there?
no subject
This guy is slow, maybe we can get the boards down.
( Steve feels skeptical, but his voice manages to sound slightly more confident than it is. he glances around the room for anything that might be more effective for prying, and abandons his bat to collect a firepoker that honestly would be pretty gnarly if he needed to stab something with it. the thought alone makes Steve feel a little queasy, though, no matter the freaky thing that's after him.
focus on the present, Harrington. he heads for a window and wiggles the poker between one of boards and the window frame and grits his teeth, trying to pry an end up. of course whoever did this (magic??? a hole in space time??? how did it get boarded up???) didn't half ass it, and the board doesn't seem inclined to budge easily. his sides protest the movement, but Steve ignores the pain. it's only after one side clatters up that he finds his voice again, catching Aerith's attention for a moment. ) If... if it catches up. It just wants me. You can run.
( it's not particularly heroic, Steve hopes that he can run too, if it comes to that. he just doesn't want a complete stranger to get dragged into this if she could get away. )
no subject
She's not exactly a muscular figure, but she does what she can, trying her best to focus on helping Steve rather than the shuffling sound Aerith doesn't want to think is getting closer. ]
What?
[ Astonished that he'd even suggest something like that Aerith looks over her shoulder towards the direction they came from before turning back to Steve. ]
You were going to help me, I'm going to help you too.
[ She's not the most formidable fighter, but Aerith's had her moments in the past, and she sure hopes that even though everything else in this place is wrong, if it comes down to it, she can pull something together again. ]
Do you want to try using my staff on the boards? You're stronger. And I'll take the poker, or your bat and cover you?
no subject
Okay, ( Steve agrees, skeptical, though deep down he does kind of hope things will just go too far south and Aerith will leave him for the sake of self preservation.
he glances at her staff, and... well, there's a lot more of it for prying, actually. it would be easier than the poker, for sure. ) Okay, okay, ( Steve agrees, reaching to accept it, and sounding like there's only one word in his vocabulary. ) If I can — just get one side loose — ( he fades off in a frustrated grunt, prying the staff between another board and throwing his weight into forcing it free. his sides are mostly healed up these days, and they still protest his tenacity. he does not care, if his wounds split open it'll be worth the not getting horribly murdered by a faceless monster.
the idea is if he gets one side off, the others will be easier. Steve doesn't have the breath to explain, though, but he shows Aerith that it's easier to yank it free once one sides worth of nails are pried off. behind them, the door they abandoned creaks, and Steve swears he can hear the knob slowly twisting. the monster after him is slow, which should make it seem less intimidating to try and escape. it doesn't work that way, actually. the slow knowing approach feels even worse. at least fast it'd be over faster, right? instead of the agony of waiting. )
no subject
Steve? [ Aerith ventures in a tense, terrified whisper. ] Steve I think it's at the door.
[ Not to make a dire situation all the more so, or anything like that. Aerith's eyes zone in on the knob in the dim light, and she wants nothing more than to believe it's her imagination and the darkness making it appear to be moving. Given their present circumstances, however, she doubts they're going to be that lucky. Doubling down the grip she keeps on the poker, wishing it was something bigger, like a chair or a nice end table, she looks over her shoulder at Steve, relief flooding through her when she sees what he's managed to accomplish. ]
You can do it, hurry. Get the other side and we can squish our way out.
no subject
it is painful, to pry throw his weight against the boards and cold metal of the staff, though hopefully the urgency of fear means he's got plenty of adrenaline strength going. grunts fade to mutters fade to a brutal desperate noises. why bother being quiet when danger is literally at their door? wood splinters, and it isn't fully open, but dragging one of the larger boards free leaves at least enough room for them to wriggle out the broken window on the other side. )
Go, go go. ( the door creaking open behind them is proof that he hadn't been fast enough, and the monster that has been following him is ducking low enough to bend under the doorframe. the shape is tall enough that it barely fits in the room, head ducked low to accommodate for the ceiling. the hands writhe and wiggle, almost eagerly. inhuman and inky in the dark. ) Fuck, fuck... I'll be right behind you, just go!
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The hopeful sound of splintering wood behind her at the window mixes with the blinding terror that rises as the door opens and the massive shape of that thing lowers itself enough to fit through and come inside the room. For a long second Aerith can't hear Steve urging her on, too transfixed on the squirming hands the shadowy being reaches for them with.
Steve starts cursing and it pulls Aerith back to earth, making her turn towards the window with a start, one leg already through the space Steve has pried open before she turns to hurl the poker towards the monster bearing down on them. Uncertain if it will even hurt the thing, all Aerith knows is that she has to try to at least buy a little time. A second could make all the difference right now. ]
Go away!
[ The hand not keeping her balanced on the window ledge grabs for the back of Steve's shirt, pulling at him urgently. ]
Come on, come on.
[ Reaching for her staff she spares a second to give Steve another worried look before disappearing out of the window, praying with her whole heart that this stranger doesn't decide to play the hero and stay behind to fight that thing. ]
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seeing her scramble one leg out the window makes him feel strangely better. at least one of them is likely to get out of this hell room. Aerith hucks the poker at the lumbering monster and it lands directly on the blank space that is the things face and it just keeps inching closer. heavy, wheezy sighs setting his skin crawling, and hair sticking up on the back of Steve's neck.
it's for the best Aerith grabs a handful of his shirt and drags him toward their escape, a great reminder to get the hell moving. he ducks his head out and grips the window sill, trying to pull his legs out after. one comes, the other doesn't, because one sneakered foot is suddenly in the grip of one of the long hands of the monster, each finger twining and snarling and tightening, slowly slowly slowly — )
What the fuck? ( Steve says, trying to yank his leg back, disturbed by fingers that shouldn't be able to twine and wrap and snarl like vines. worse yet, the blank face that starts to unfurl like a hideous flower, lined with more teeth than anyone could count. ) Fuck! ( Steve says, voice definitely a panicked shout this time. sorry, Aerith's fancy stick — he is definitely smacking the dark grip of the arm and fingers, his own ankle be damned. ) Pull, you gotta pull, it's got me.
( and Steve is distinctly terrified by what will happen if that mouth gets close to him. if Aerith drags him out and he lands like a box of rocks, he'll survive. he's not so sure that'll be true if he sticks it out with monster dad. )
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Wishing she was strong like Tifa, Aerith does what she can once she's able to plant her feet on the ground beneath the window. Being back on her feet gives her some leverage, and though she's never going to win any pull-up contests, she grips the fabric of Steve's shirt tight, throwing herself backward as she gives getting him through the window everything she's got. ]
Come on, come on, come on, keep hitting him, Steve!
[ Her arms ache, and her shoulders burn, mind reeling at the thought of what this thing is going to do to him, and then to her if she falters. The knowledge that she won't be able to heal Steve if the worst should happen hits her like a thunderbolt - though the absence of the Lifestream is never far from her mind now that she's trapped here - and though she's tired, Aerith finds it in here to pull harder, seeing more of him appear on this side of the window, galvanized because of it. ]
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and then he has to get back to fighting, putting grunted and pained effort into hitting whatever part of the monster he can reach. it feels pointless, in his panic. nothing seems to matter, it just keeps pulling and pulling — and that mouth, that goddamn mouth. Steve would rather not remember how the demogorgon nearly swallowed Jonathan's head whole with that freaky fucking flower mouth, and suddenly that's all he can think about when faced with another, in the form of a towering monster that seems determined to murder him.
keep hitting him. good plan, especially with that nasty mouth open and way too close to him for his liking. Steve can't answer, just does as he's told. a few more glancing blows that don't seem to do anything, in fact the monster only holds tighter and starts pulling back — nope, nope, whatever that means, nope. so fuck it, the staff isn't especially sharp, but stabbing it directly in the maw gets the exact reaction he hoped for. the creature gives a wheeze of discontent, and the inky black fingers suddenly unwind from his leg as it retracts.
unfortunately, all of Aerith's weight pulling him out of the window means he's going out of that window, with the monster no longer holding both of them in place. he doesn't even have the time to react to not fall on top of her, so hopefully Aerith gets out of the way on her own or she's going to have a pile of homegrown indiana boy landing on top of her. )
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Steve lands on Aerith and she's got just enough time to bring her hands up, trying to shield them both from knocking their heads together and making a bad situation worse. ]
Wow, you're heavy!
[ Awkward times call for awkward statements, blurted without a second thought before she's reaching to pull her staff free of his grasp - his bat knocked out of her hand and laying beside them after the impact - and squirm free. It's not like she's really had the time to devote to really sizing Steve up, what with the frantic chase and all, but she still wasn't expecting him to be quite so solid! ]
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but it reminds Steve of Jonathan, pinned to the floor. Steve has often wondered during sleepless nights what might have happened if he hadn't gone back. if he'd got in his beamer and driven away. he's uncomfortably certain that he might have figured out, if they hadn't dragged him out of that window in time.
so he's a little dazed, still staring at the disconcerting black of the window, when Aerith squirms and he remembers to shift away. and try to kick back the terror of what could have been for what terror could be happening right the hell now if they don't get moving. )
Sorry? Sorry. ( LOOK he didn't mean to fall on the cute anime girl! he really didn't! Steve is collecting his bearings (and his baseball bat) before he gets to his feet and offers Aerith a hand up, too. ) You okay? Maybe we should stick together, awhile. ( there's gotta be someplace in this nightmare town that isn't swarming with evil monsters. right? and if there isn't someplace, well... they'll be safer together than apart. )