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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.
alina starkov (shadow and bone)
[ alina starkov doesn't cry in front of people. it's the first rule of being a war orphan. you keep it to yourself because no one else gives a damn, and if they do, it's only so they can attack you with it.
when the tears come, she's tucked between rows of public library shelves, gathered on the floor with her knees to her chest, clutching a wood and glass frame holding the picture. she'd needed air when she'd found it. needed to walk, to get away from that strange place she'd been sleeping. but she is grisha, and more than that, she is the sun summoner. she knows better than to leave something as valuable as herself out in the open. so she hadn't found a spot amongst trees to cry in, or the fountain in the empty square. she'd found a cubby in the library.
mal's face is smiling back at her. it's wonderful and impossible and painful. he's got his arm wrapped around her like he always used to do, pulling her in so that someone could capture this moment in time. they look ... happy. it's hard to imagine that. does she remember it that way? being happy? it feels too far away now too be sure.
the more she thinks of it, the louder her sobs become until she presses her forehead down against her knees because she can't keep her eyes open to look at the picture anymore. ]
[ the fog draws her into the streets. or more accurately, the way it had rotted the stolen bread and cheese on the countertop of the home she squatted in. alina walks slowly, hand ahead of her, trying to reach for something through the fog.
scraaaaape.
she stops. ]
Hello? [ fear chokes her voice. ] Is someone there?
[ what a miracle that would be. she tries to call for the light again. to summon it into her hand, to somehow banish the dense fog, but it doesn't come. it's far away like the sun, a distant warmth, and it's just like it had been in baghra's hut. exhausting. she shakes her hands like that will make them work, but nothing comes.
well, nothing comes from her.
a creature lunges at her from the dark and she yelps, twisting and running. what is in the other direction? she can't remember. can't seem to keep herself oriented in this strange place now that the fog is everywhere. paving stones are under her feet, but they stretch all over the town. a fountain emerges from the fog in front of her too late to dodge. she smacks into it, spills into the water.
or maybe it's not the fountain she hits. maybe it's you. but the dog is advancing, and alina is scrabbling to get away from it. ]
[ it's smarter to stay together.
in the fog, alina had come to that agreement with someone. they will stay in her house or theirs together, close, so that if the dogs come, they have a better chance. she sleeps resolutely with her back to them, straining at the edge of the wide bed, trying not to listen to their breathing. even her socks are still on her feet.
but it's not her companion who wakes her, in the end. it's the blood. and there, in the doorway, a volcra, bewinged and screeching, claws splintering wood and scraping stone.
alina doesn't scream. she scrambles over her companion on the bed, tugging at them, trying to wake them if they aren't already. ]
We have to go. We have to go. [ because the volcra isn't alone. ]
[ feel free to hit me up
02.
There was hardly any visibility, and despite the smell, she could see nothing burning nearby; even with minimal visibility there should have been some sort of glow, or public reaction. And there was a public reaction, but it wasn't to shouts of 'fire!' or the morbid, curious gathering that happened any time a building went up in flames.
Grateful her training and instincts had her going nowhere without the ornate sickle she had found after the first week, when she had been exploring and searching abandoned places for a weapon to defend herself with. At her other side, her Scourge - a whip that could channel her power, but hardly more than a more resilient whip with a blade at the end, as long as she remained powerless. She was a master using it, but the sickle was to make up for the Scourge being of limited use, for now.
It was then she heard a cry for help, and the growling of something like a dog, yet, unnaturally so. So, she hadn't been imagining the hound-like outlines in the fog in previous days. Did that mean the other entity she was catching glimpses of was also out there somewhere - stalking her?
Sarah readied her whip and moved with tactical haste and caution towards where there was screaming, shouting, and now, growling and grating, hellish barking. She readied her whip above her head, taking an offensive stance. )
Sound out - I am here to help! We can take them toget--! ( A woman slams into her, pushing her slightly backwards, but it does not take Sarah long to recover. She quickly looks from her to the lunging dog, spins, and strikes it with her Scourge. )
no subject
then she gathers her wits and puts herself more squarely behind the woman. ]
I don't have a weapon. [ no grisha steel, no light, nothing. she's useless. just a mapmaker again, as much as she'd like to help.
and this is a particular issue, as the dog is undeterred by its lashing and lunges back at sarah. ]
02
well. while it's distinctly person-shaped, the thing alina has collided with, it's difficult to gauge much beyond this fact. any distinguishing features are obscured by a thick carapace of metal and mesh.
hands reach out to steady her. it's an automatic response, barely considered. a glance to determine the nature of the threat — human, female, in a state of distress but otherwise unharmed — and then his attention shifts away from her and toward the direction she'd come from. a hand already reaching for the knife strapped to his belt. )
How many? ( his voice comes out flat. metallic. no hint of humanity. )
no subject
but they are offering help, and as breathless and frightened by their countenance as alina is, the dogs are the more pressing issue. she catches her breath, looks behind her, and urgently says, ] Two.
[ before she starts to slink behind him. ]
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especially not in the open like this, where there's plenty of room for manoeuvring. the dogs might be slow, ponderous things but there's enough of the predatory instinct left to them that aristaeus doubts they're going to give up their quarry without a significant deterrent. )
Climb, if you can. ( then he's slipping away into the fog, counting on the armour's thick layers of metal alloy to diffuse his scent. )
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she turns on her heels, makes for the shop nearby. her hands grope against the wall, helping her around the back. she'd seen trash cans piled; they weren't ideal, but they'd be high enough, surely. maybe she could even get to the roof. ]
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or at least that's how it feels, out in the dark. the first dog falls quickly. cleanly. black blood flicking off the blade of his knife and landing on the chill stone below.
the smell must be nauseating.
the second dog is more of a challenge. he tries to throttle it with its own chain, but it manages to take him to the ground and the sounds of their scuffle must carry in this strange quiet. )
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the fog feels so much like the fold, like this. familiar in its oppression. but there is nowhere to run, now. no end to it. and no light to pierce it. ]
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sweeps his gaze across the area, searching for the girl. wonders if she hasn't high-tailed it already. wouldn't blame her if she did. )
03.
not after what he saw back home and not after the fucking dogs. they'd seemed harmless at first and then vicious, terrifying. worse than the bats. eddie's asleep, sleeping actually for the first time in weeks when alina's voice jolts him, before she's tugging at him, and he sees that thing in the doorway.
it's not alone, there's a demo-bat or two trying to crawl in through the doorway under it. which, wow, what a fucking awful combination. ] What the fuck??? What the fuck is that?!!
[ eddie doesn't want to know. actually. he reaches for alina's wrist, like he was the one who had the idea to get out. looks around and then spots the window, can't remember what floor they're on at the moment. jesus h. christ. ] Fuck. We have to go out the window.
no subject
[ she hauls off after him, not even flinching as he goes for her wrist, tugging her along. this is natural. easy. this haphazard scrambling is somehow familiar to her, like having a partner in crime back after a long time.
mal. he's filling a space that she'd lost when she lost mal. she tries not to think about that. tries not to think about the way that this is too familiar, fleeing volcra and scrambling, how it had been the last time she'd seen him. how he'd looked when the volcra was trying to kill him.
she goes for the window, rattles it. it won't budge, so she goes for the latch instead, but it's too late. the volcra dives in for them, shrieking, and the demo-bat whips its tail around her wrist to yank her wrist away, hauling her into the dresser by the wall, away from the window and its latch. ]
no subject
of course it is.
fucking stuff of nightmares, those things. he wonders if it means vecna is here, if the hive mind is growing closer. eddie's supposed to be bait so, hey, maybe in this fucked up world it's just that.
which. not important. he scrambles for the spear, grabs it and swings the sharp edge toward the demo-bats tail and, miracles can happen, manages to get it in one go but keeps chopping. which gives the volcra time to screech, reach out and catch his foot with it's talon to knock him down. ] Holy fuck!
no subject
[ she fumbles against the wall, gets herself back to her feet. her wrist hurts like hell, but that's something to worry about later, when nothing is trying to kill them. she gropes along the wall towards the doorway. it puts the monsters squarely between them, but it'll be worth it in the end, she tells herself, even as the volcra lunges for eddie.
it'll be worth it because there's a lamp in here, and if there's one thing that volcra hate —
she flicks on the light switch. it hisses and wails, flinching away and flapping out through the window. ]
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but the other thing is gone, screams and screeches before it scrambles away.
eddie wonders how long the light will hold before it flickers and it's their luck that that thought has it doing just that, puttering out slowly. ] Fuck.
That thing will come back. We can't stay here. [ not with the bed soaked in blood, not with the thing knowing where they are. ] What the fuck was that? [ he asks, pushing himself up as if his own faceless creature was any less terrifying. ]
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[ it should be impossible for it to be here. then again, it should be impossible for her to be here. just how far away is ravka, really? she looks down at the marks on her wrist, at the blood smeared over her from the bedding. ]
We should find a way to make some kind of flame. It might be more dependable than these sconces. [ because whatever they hold aren't candles, alina has determined, and she's not presently impressed by the dependability of electricity. ]
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he shudders, looks at the bed and wraps his arms around himself. he wants to run, wants to get away from this shit. wants to be that coward he normally is when he's not --- not with anyone. alina's here and so eddie doesn't run, no matter what. he swallows, reaches into his back pocket and fishes out the lighter he'd found earlier that week. it's a zippo, one where he can flick open and light without holding anything down like a cheap bic.
he lights it, holds it out toward alina. ] Probably bigger than this, huh? But will it work for now? [ he glances toward the window. ] W-We should get out of here before that volcra and the demo-bats come back for seconds.
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Or maybe it's just always her role to be the liability, as she manages to soundly fall asleep. Her nightmares still bother her, but she restlessly sleeps through them. It's only the tugging that causes her to stir. Her eyes abruptly open wide, lips parted in a silent scream that's never vocalized.
Too terrified to do anything at first, it takes Alina ushering her out of bed for her legs to feel like they work. They're trembling along with the rest of her, because the flying monster isn't alone. Behind it is something that looks remarkably like the thing that hunted her down and killed her back in Hawkins. Eddie calls it Vecna.
Chrissy doesn't care what it's called. She just knows they have to get away. Her hand reaches out for Alina's, and together they move swiftly and silently through the room. Leading the way to the window, she gestures for Alina to climb through first. And the second it's clear, she's practically leaping out of it, falling into a heap on the ground.
There's no time to care about that, no time to worry about scrapes or bruises. A hand is offered and she's hoisted to her feet, before they take off running through the fog.]
You know what that flying monster was, right?
[Because if Alina doesn't, she's perfectly fine saying it's some kind of hellbat and leaving it at that.]
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[ she says it through a grunt as she props herself up onto her elbows, looking at chrissy's hand. then she reaches up and grabs it, pulling herself to her feet with chrissy's help. she dusts herself off and squints through the fog at the dark sky.
it looks different, somehow. the fog. like there's some light simmering faintly beneath it. she can't quite place it, but something seems ... different, somehow. ]
It lives in the shadow fold. We should be safe if we can find some light.
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She can't though. Not when there's people here she's come to trust. They might even be friends one day, if they manage to survive.]
We need to find a flashlight then. Come on.
[As they move, it dawns on Chrissy that the Volcra are likely something Alina knows from her world. They follow her the same as the creature born out of her own trauma does. The fact that Alina knows they need light means these are literal monsters that she's dealt with before though, doesn't it? How else would she know about the light?
There's not much time to ask about it though, because as they move, she definitely takes notice of the shift in the fog. It's different than before, and that puts her even more on edge.]
The light might end up reflecting back at us in this fog.
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[ and without a sun summoner, ravka's dead. not that she's much of a sun summoner now. she should be able to get rid of the volcra herself. burn them away with her light. if she could just reach it ... if she weren't so useless...
that's not helpful either, though. she slows her gait some, looks back at chrissy. frowns to realize that she hasn't been very good at acknowledging that this is new and terrifying for her, that chrissy is still here beside her despite it. ]
... Are you okay?
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Even if this all is essentially a neverending nightmare.]
I'll be okay.
[Her words are chosen carefully. She isn't okay now, but she will be. And that's enough for her.]
I'll be better if we can come up with a plan. Let's try getting to one of the stores.