foolishwren | 70. [DREAM/DREAM/DREAM/DREAM]

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70. [DREAM/DREAM/DREAM/DREAM]

_{[So while the rest of Johto alternately panics, cries, or rushes around trying to capture as many of the soulstealing insects as possible, there are dozens of souls floating around in that dream limbo, drifting in and out of each other's slumbering thoughts and visions. Whether it's nightmarish flashbacks or just those dreams where you're at school taking a really hard test, and then Dracula shows up, and then everybody's naked ... anything is possible when it comes to what people see in their sleep.]

[But what appears in the darkness in this particular spot in the spaceless, shifting mass of dreaming souls... is a door.]

[It's old, and covered with boards and bolts, rusted near-through in some places. The lock is broken-- mangled and half-melted and wrenched out of the keyhole. The only thing on it that doesn't look ancient is a scrap of torn notebook-paper that's taped up on it at roughly eye-level. It reads only a single phrase:]}

Fear of blood tends to create fear for the flesh.

_{[More importantly, though... the door is ajar. Through the gap come the scents of rust and metal-- and something organic, fleshy-- and a low, deep hum of industrial machinery. It's not a door that anyone in their right mind would want to go through. ... But for anyone who may have stumbled this far into the dreams of their fellow lost souls, either in flight from some other nightmare or just pure, wandering curiosity... there's just no other place to go but through the door.]}

_{[Go on. Open it. After all.... it's only a dream.]}

[ooc: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, GUYS. Thanks for being patient! If you commented on that planning post, there's something spooky planned for your character to do here so please feel free to tag or not tag as it pleases you!]

~*~

[ooc: This is the IC post for what was announced over here! Even if you didn't comment there, feel free to participate! I'm still happy to whip up Silent Hill scenarios for folks!]

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Yeah... I seriously wouldn't. That's actually a little creepy. _{[Sure, it was pretty normal to be suspicious of a weird car with tinted windows parked across from your house or something... but that was usually because you were worried about who was inside. The car ITSELF being the one watching everything you do added a whole new layer of OMG WTF to think about when it came to going about your daily business.]} Must work like a charm...

_{[.... A-ANYWAY. Back to business!]

[Straightening up, coughing, and sooort of sliding towards making it look like she hadn't been startled at all, Heather gives her head a shake to get the hair out of her eyes.]}

Okay, so... I guess you can just... do the hide-in-plain-sight thing. This could... uh, take awhile.

_{[Considering they'd just knocked down a ROLLERCOASTER, she's not entirely sure how long it'll be before something actually got the nerve up to come skittering in this direction.]}

How is this 'creepy'?

[It's sort of like a human being told that their act of putting on a coat was creepy. It just doesn't make any sense. And it probably won't ever really make sense. Not for him, anyway. Maybe Bumblebee would get it, better.]

I have time.

[The truck hunkers down on its wheels, as if to prove a point. And then, it appears to pause, considering. Then one of the cab doors pops open. If they're going to wait, he's not going to just leave her out there unprotected. Unless he absolutely has to.]

Door is open, if you need to hide.

Well, it's like-- cars are EVERYWHERE. Like rocks. It's like walking out the door, and having to think "... Man... what if the rocks are watching me..." And you don't know which ones are secretly, like... super advanced sentient rocks from outer space, versus just plain old rocks. It's creepy!

_{[Though to be fair, she doesn't sound frightened by the concept. After the things she's seen, intelligent cars are the least of her worries. Doesn't mean she can't comment on the inherent weirdness of having to worry about whether a random parked SUV is spying on you.]

[But in response to the invitation, she actually holds up a hand and shakes her head a little bit.]}

No, they'll ... they'll come faster if I'm just hanging around in plain sight. ... Trust me, I've done this a million times before.

_{[... Or, well... not just STOOD THERE DUMBLY IN THE MIDDLE OF OPEN GROUND a million times before, but fought monsters, yes.]}

Not all vehicles are Autobots. [A pause.] Some are Decepticons.

[Okay, maybe he's having a little fun with her there. But, even so, there aren't many of them left on Earth. He still can't quite grasp why this is so unnerving. Maybe he's just too old to.]

Up to you. I will leave it open, in case you need it.

[Experiment or no, he will live up to his vow to look after her. Besides, there can't be anything too threatening in this park. Except for copious amounts of rust.]

[... can there?]

[The engine dies, along with Ironhide's headlights. And the weapons master settles down to wait, scanners combing the immediate area.]

...

_{[He can just... enjoy that silent ".... :( seriously?" stare she gives him for a moment or two after he says that. C'mon, Ironhide, it's not nice to scare the squishies. ... Or just unnerve them, as the case may be.]

[But in any case, she nods and sort of waves a hand as she turns and walks a short distance away-- though not far enough to become invisible in the dust from the wreckage to make her invisible as it drifted through the park like a haze. The space in front of where the rollercoaster once stood is largely open-ground-- dotted by the occasional abandoned snack-cart. At one point, maybe on a good day, the place had probably been filled with crowds of noisy people. But right now, in the wake of the din caused by the collapsing coaster, it's silent as a morgue.]

[And it stays that way for some time-- the only sounds being the clank of Heather's boots across the grating as she paces or the occasional clatter when she kicks a can out of her path out of boredom. She's looking nonchalant (probably for the sake of showing off), but to the trained eye, it's probably obvious that underneath the casual facade, she's tense ... and getting tenser as, slowly, the unseen sounds of the park begin to tentatively creep back into life once more.]

[None of them are likely anything that'd faze a robot... far-off metallic clanking, the whistles and gasps of wind through empty structures (although occasionally they take on a fluttering tone that could almost pass as a human breath...), strange, distant animal cries... but Heather seems alert to every single sound, judging by the way she stops pacing and turns to stare off into the darkness whenever any far-off scrape or creak catches her attention.]

[The truth is, she hates open ground... and in any other situation, she'd be avoiding it like the plague. Too vulnerable... not enough cover. But HEY. Ironhide wanted to see what made this place dangerous? She was gonna SHOW him what made this place dangerous. ... Even if it meant dawdling around in the middle of a big blank space like a plate of spaghetti in the middle of a circle of hungry Italians. It's tempting fate, plain and simple-- she just hopes that the fate tempted will be one that's easily dispatched.]

[It takes a good long while ... but eventually, the waiting will pay off. No amount of prior noise and threat of maybepossibly being stepped on by a giant metal interloper can keep the twisted children of Silent Hill from trying to reclaim the most important child of all. After all, she was just standing there. I mean, come on.]

[As with almost everything in this place... the first indicator of trouble is the sound. First, the radio, which Heather had placed on the ground by her feet, begins to fizzle. Ironhide may even find his OWN radio starting to emit static-- whether it's on or off. And then, from a nearby alley leading off of the clearing comes a horrible noise.]

[The culprit? A shambling, hulking figure with arms like giant, meaty clubs. It barrels straight past the idling truck (possibly knocking right into him in the process- whatever the hell it is, it clearly has no idea he's anything but a random obstacle sitting there with all the other junk and rubble in the park) and out into the open with a gobbling scream. ... And it's followed by two others... one of which may in fact clamber OVER him in its rush to close the distance between itself and its target.]

[Said target is obvious. ... Of course, said target has also spun around and is waving her arms in a very obvious AW YEAH WANNA PIECE OF THIS? gesture, walking backwards. If she was gonna show off the horrors of her hometown, she was gonna show 'em off RIGHT.]}

YEAH! Get over here, y'sonsabitches!

Edited 2011-07-03 01:58 (UTC)

[Ironhide sits there. He sits there and he waits. This is always his least favorite part -- waiting in ambush. It feels as if he's not actually doing anything. And the longer he waits, the more pent-up energy he feels building in his limbs. But he resists the urge to roll around, or so much as twitch his door.]

[He's about to suggest they move on, when the enemies arrive. His sensors scream a warning as the first of the monsters looms into view. For all of a second, he sits there, trying to process what he's seeing here. When that fails, he launches into combat mode. She's alone, unprotected, and not paying attention.]

[The truck leaps. It transforms mid-launch, slamming into the back of the lagging Closer. It may be huge, but Ironhide is five tons of anger, metal and guns. As he rams it, he jams his cannon against its back, firing without hesitation.]

Heather! Down!

[The massive 'bot flings the corpse aside, charging toward the other two with a battle roar. This is the old soldier's element, and he's out to prove his mettle.]

_{[Ah Ironhide, ye of so little faith-- she's not QUITE as oblivious as she looks (even if it's hard to tell sometimes). She's already pulled out her gun and slammed a couple of shots into the grotesque, bendy head of the Closer closest to her-- but then he sort of ERUPTS into action, and the first thing on her mind is-- oh holy shit CANNONS.]

[The Closer he kills doesn't even have a chance to cry out-- its body is quite simply blown apart, sending gore and broken limbs scattering across the grate like burst melon chunks. Heather, on the other hand... is getting the hell out of dodge, slightly more out of fear of getting caught in the friendly-fire at than out of fear of the monsters themselves. She throws herself into a roll, getting behind the nearest cover-- which happens to be an overturned popcorn cart.]

[The other Closers, meanwhile, can't exactly IGNORE the giant, roaring THING coming at them. With a collective thought process that probably consists of the monster equivalent of "-- FUUUUUUUUU---!!!", they turn tail and RUN. ... Which, for Closers, is... really more of an amble. Poor suckers... they really don't have any hope of outrunning him.]}

Edited 2011-07-03 02:51 (UTC)

[He can't help it. It's an ingrained response -- PROTECT. He'd give his life in the line of that duty, and damned if he's going to let some weird dream world get in the way of it.]

[As soon as his scanners indicate the girl is out of the line of fire, the Autobot barrels into the fray. His expression is weirdly neutral. One would expect someone to be more emotive during a battle. But not Ironhide. His attention is completely focused on the enemy.]

[He fires on the leg of the nearest Closer, wounding it, blowing its foot off. Then he lunges for the stump, swinging it up with the endless strength of mechanical muscles. Ironhide then proceeds to use the Closer as a club, flinging it at its fellow monster with a low, angry bellow.]

_{[The wounded Closer topples to the ground-- its legs are the frailest part of it anyhow, and with one of them reduced to a bloody stump, it's got about as much a chance of standing as a one-legged Barbie doll. Letting out a ringing screech, it feebly turns to try and fend its attacker off, only to be snatched up and... used as a flail.]

[Needless to say, its compatriot has likely never experienced being BRUTALLY BEATEN WITH ONE OF ITS OWN KIND before, and there are no answers to be found in its primitive brain for the puzzling scenario, 'What do I do when something picks up another monster and starts HITTING ME WITH IT?' It isn't long before it collapses as well, beaten to a bloody pulp. The one being used as an improvised weapon had already perished within the first few whacks, its neck long since having snapped.]

[Just... holy... it's okay, dude... they're DEAD, man... they are all KINDS of dead. Game over, man, game over!]}

Edited 2011-07-03 08:16 (UTC)

[Ironhide does not stop until he is absolutely certain the enemy is dead, and will not rise again. Only then does he toss the ruined pieces of Closer he used as a club away, and gives the pummeled body a swift kick. As if the corpses have personally offended him by still being in his presence.]

Worthless punk. Hmnf.

[And that... should be that. He straightens up, squaring his shoulders. It felt oddly good to be able to brawl like that. Even if these things didn't put up near as good of a fight as a Decepticon. This is what he was made for. This is what he's perfected over the millions of years of his life.]

[He scans the area again, before stepping toward where he last saw Heather.]

You okay?

_{[You know that weird look that cats get when they're peering intensely over the edge of a box at you? Where their pupils seem to encompass their entire eye and they look like they're either going to duck back out of sight or explode into Warp Mode and tear around the living room in a mildly-hysterical fit of panic-fueled energy?]

[That's kind of what Heather looks like right now from where she's crouching behind that cart.]

[She doesn't answer for the first second or two.]}

..... I can't decide whether to be terrified or in awe.

[Oh, that's a familiar look. Except he's more used to that look coming from something he's about to step on, rather than someone he's just attempted to rescue.]

[So Ironhide simply stares back. There's a bit of Closer on one of his huge shoulders... and it sort of slops down to the ground while he waits for her to recover. Then he shrugs.]

I find both is a frequent sentiment among your kind.

[His scarred faceplates twitch in a sort of smirk.]

And among the enemy.

_{[She'll get over it. There's just something kind of horrifying and amazing at the same time about watching a giant metal dude pick a living object up and then beat another one to death with it. Just... it warrants a moment's thought, you know?]

[Still, she gets up slowly-- mostly because watching that glob of monster slide off of him and plop onto the ground makes her want to laugh hysterically, and she's not sure if it's the nerves or her dark sense of humor behind that reaction. She settles for baring her teeth in a shaky grin.]}

You know... I was going to kill them...

S'not like I haven't fought those things before.

Took your time about it.

[He watches her stand, keeping very still. Experience has taught him that standing and not making sudden moves helps humans get over the fact that there is a looming, living hulk of metal and cannons nearby. Usually. Sometimes it just doesn't help anything and they panic anyway.]

Your weapon was too small. You need to aim for their joints, where you can sever the limbs, break the internal structure.

They will be helpless, then.

_{[An indignant snort.]

[She draws herself all the way up (and is, deep down, a little relieved that he's standing still), holding her arms and holding her head high, twiddling the wimpy gun between her fingers.]}

I'll have you know that the first one of those things I ever fought, I killed with this gun. It's sentimental.

Anyway, I was just trying to show you what I was talking about! I had the whole thing under control.

_{[... Although admittedly... taking on three Closers at once was a fight she'd normally run from... it was flirting with disaster a little more closely than Heather usually wanted to. So whether she had it under control or not, Ironhide'd had a MUCH easier time killing them than she would have, as little as she liked to admit it.]}

A sentimental weapon is no use if it does not do the job.

[He lifts an arm, and pats one of his cannons, fondly. Sort of like someone ruffling their kid's hair after said kid did something adorable. Instead of patting the gun that just blew a walking horror apart.]

I designed and built these myself. I have had them since before the war began... These... are sentimental. And functional.

[That said... Ironhide crouches down, to peer at her more closely. She seems unharmed. If not twitchy. But Sam was always sort of twitchy, so maybe that's normal for human young.]

Fine. You were right. This place is dangerous for humans.

Hmph. Does the job just fine. _{[She won't admit that maybe three of them would have been a little too much for it to handle... too proud. She, in turn, gives the HANDGUN a pat. It's okay, little wimpy gun. :( Heather still loves you. You were her first!]}

Anyway... You see what I mean, now?

_{[Folding her arms, she looks up at the towering robot with the slightest of frowns. SHE TOLD YOU SO.]} And for the record, those are far from the least dangerous things in this place.

[He shakes his head, slowly. The motion probably hides his amused expression. He's known 'bots attached to their weapons too. He can understand the sentiment, even if he doesn't really agree.]

Sort of. Thought they were sort of simple, though.

[Oh. Oh Heather. You shouldn't have done that. Ironhide's good optic suddenly brightens, and he leans down further.]

Oh? And what is the most dangerous?

_{[She takes an automatic step back when he leans down-- call it an ingrained reflex that sort of kicked in when she was in the mindset it took to survive in this place...]}

The most?

... Something that hopefully stayed dead when I killed it two years ago.

[His good optic blinks, and he tilts his head to the side.]

... Some things are best kept dead. Should probably keep away, just in case.

[This is Ironhide-speak for, "Okay, I won't push you on this."]

_{[She's grateful, inside. It didn't matter how easily he could tear apart the more plentiful residents of this place... God, even in the sickly, half-finished form it had been in, was something she was fairly sure would not... could not die by any hand but a human's. Perhaps not any but her own. That was just how some things worked... logic and rationality be damned. In the end, only the lambs could shed their wool and let the inner wolf out to kill the lion.]

[So she shakes her head.]}

Even if it were alive, I wouldn't take you to that place. It's not safe-- ...

_{[She trailed off before finishing that thought... but there's an unspoken 'Even for you' on the end of it... and it's in greater earnest than anything else she's said to him here.]}

[He studies her expression for a minute, like there's something he could see in it that words won't say. Which would probably be easier if he weren't Ironhide, and didn't have all the social grace of a charging rhino.]

[He moves a metal hand forward, one thick finger extended in a sort of 'chin up' gesture. But doesn't actually touch her.]

This is your dream. You lead on.

[Even Ironhide can catch an unsaid couple words like that. And, coming from him, the admission of leadership is a pretty Big Deal. Even if it's only for now.]

_{[The gesture gets a smile out of her, all the same. Dusting herself off one last time on principal (rolling across the ground in this place was about as hygienic as rolling around in a junkyard), she gives her head a jaunty toss, as if to dismiss that somber moment.]}

If we were anywhere near a highway, I'd say we oughta see how fast you can go in truck form. But this place is sorta car-unfriendly. ... That said, mind letting me up again?

Now that you've seen some of the friendly faces this place has to offer, I'm moooore than happy to leave the ground.

Top speed is 110 miles per hour. No more. I can get to 115 if I tried...

[He shrugs, keeping his hand where it is. Up you get, kiddo. He's waiting for you.]

... But then Ratchet might scrap me.

[The big 'bot sits still. Scanners are on alert, but so far, there's nothing else. Even if he would have liked to go another round.]

_{[No further invitation needed! She steps up into his hand. Man, what she wouldn't have given to be able to ride around like thirty feet off the ground when she was actually slogging through Silent Hill for real.]}

115? Daaamn.

I don't think I've ever been in a car that's gone past forty...

_{[That's not entirely true-- she went on some seriously reckless rides with her old crowd of do-no-gooders back in high school... but apart from that, her father had understandably switched into GRANDMA MODE while driving ever since his first fateful encounter with that town.]}

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TL;DR: CLOSERS and also typos

OH SNAAAAAAAP

CLOSERS. CLOSERS EVERYWHERE.

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