Heather Mason (
foolishwren) wrote2011-06-20 03:24 pm
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Entry tags:
- *ace attorney: larry butz,
- *ace attorney: shelly de killer,
- *bleach: ise nanao,
- *dcmk: kaito kuroba,
- *death note: l,
- *digimon: minako 'yolei' inoue,
- *fairy tail: ur,
- *final fantasy tactics: ritz malheur,
- *fullmetal alchemist: envy,
- *g.i. joe: cobra commander,
- *homestuck: eridan ampora,
- *homestuck: rose lalonde,
- *kingdom hearts: sora,
- *macross frontier: sheryl nome,
- *metal gear solid: hal 'otacon' emmerich,
- *metal gear solid: revolver ocelot,
- *persona 3: ken amada,
- *persona 3: shinjiro aragaki,
- *persona 4: rise kujikawa,
- *professor layton: luke triton,
- *puella magi oriko magica: yuma chitose,
- *the road to el dorado: miguel,
- *transformers (movie): ironhide,
- *umineko no naku koro ni: beatrice,
- *yu-gi-oh!: bakura,
- a letter to my future self,
- adventure time,
- aftermath,
- all my fault,
- all phobias: engage,
- are you afraid of the dark?,
- back in my day,
- bad memories,
- bitch be trippin' balls,
- boss fight,
- brb going on an adventure,
- calm before the storm,
- don't do this at home,
- dramatic narration,
- event,
- event post,
- fear for the flesh,
- fucking fuckity fuck,
- holding my heart out but clutching it to,
- i can't very well stab them one by one,
- i've got a bad feeling about this,
- ic,
- image attached,
- is daddy still a good man?,
- it came from the black lagoon,
- it is a mystery,
- kshshhhhhhssfrrrzzzhhzhzlshhhshhkzfffffl,
- nightmare plot,
- notto dissu shitto agen,
- nurses. nurses everywhere,
- officially freaked-out now,
- scary stories to tell in the dark,
- silent hill survivors club,
- the town that takes all,
- unexplained anxiety,
- valtiel,
- what is this i don't even,
- what the fog,
- who's that pokemon?!,
- wrath of god,
- your pain is hilarious
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!]
[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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[... And as if knowing this... the still-neutral expression on the beast's face has shifted ever so slightly-- the mouth twisting upwards on one side in something that could, if one squinted, be called a smirk.]
[It looks more like Heather Mason than the poster does.]
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We're... friends, and you saved me.
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[Yes... in some small way, she does remember. After all... it was this side of Heather more than any other who had been the one sinking its teeth into L's monstrous dream-mother.]
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[L knows that much, at least... even if his memory of Heather is as hazy as his memory of himself, there are things that he knows, and one of them is that Heather has never hesitated to talk to him before.]
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[But this... this is not the Heather he knows, not entirely. As evidenced by the way she sort of smiles and reaches up to close her hands around her throat, shaking her head.]
[Alessa Gillespie had no voice.]
[It had been taken away from her-- perhaps if she'd had one, someone would have listened... and been able to save her from Hell before it ever got to the point where death was the only way out.]
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It's all right. I am not upset.
[He raises his eyes to the wall before him, turning to survey the winding alleys stretching past the dog's split carcass.]
I am lost... will you take me away from here...?
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[But the creature before L seems powerful despite not having a voice, somehow... and at his request, she nods. And then beckons, with oddly sharp fingers.]
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He nods briskly, moving as quickly as he's able. He is slow and clumsy, compared to her agile movements, and she might have to do more fighting to keep him from getting caught and torn to pieces.]
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[There are sometimes sets of unfriendly eyes that glimmer at them from the shadows and nooks they pass, but it would seem that her presence is enough to deter them from attacking... for the moment.]
[Eventually, as they round a bend, a gateway comes into view. It's some kind of immense junkyard, surrounded by chainlink. Pace visibly picking up when she spots it, Heather brightens and beckons to L once more.]
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The eyes are foreboding, and he stiffens and swallows accordingly when they flash at him from the darkness, but they seem frightened of Heather, at least enough to matter, enough to keep them from springing into the light and tearing at the two specter-like children.
As her pace quickens when they approach the junkyard, she beckons, and he does his best to keep up with her. The rubble makes him nervous; the general clutter and disorder of the scene automatically increases his anxiety. But if this is the way out, he's glad to brave it.]
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[But Heather-- or THIS version of her-- seems more or less at home here... even if it's not a happy home. She reaches the chainlink fence and starts to climb it like a monkey.]
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When she starts climbing, though, his heart outright sinks. All he can do is hook the pointed, curved tips of his forearms through the chainlinks and watch her ascent; he's powerless to pull himself up.]
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[... Well this could be a problem.]
[She checks on the horizon, then starts to shimmy back down again.]
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When she shimmies back down, though, he realizes that he's not completely forsaken, that there might be a glimmer of hope for this situation yet. Not that it doesn't still look pretty dire; how the hell could Heather get him over the fence? She's not much bigger or sturdier than he is... which is to say, neither of those qualities could be applied to her with a straight face.]
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[She couldn't carry him in one arm... as small and light as he looks, she's not exactly made of muscle...]
[Running her fingers down the chainlink she narrows her eyes briefly, before turning around and kneeling. :I HERE. PIGGYBACK.]
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[Provided he doesn't lose his grip or fall off, she latches onto the fence once more and starts to climb it, rattling the chain-link as she goes. It's a very tall fence... but at least she's agile enough to climb it. A lot of wrecked, twisted wire at the bottom would suggest that most other monsters around town lacked that ability, and had to find other ways in.]
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[She scales the fence nimbly, clambering over its top and making the descent down as if she'd done it a thousand times. Which, honestly, she probably had. Once on the pasty soil of the junkyard, she pauses, considering letting L down... then reconsiders. He's not terribly heavy, and there's not much further to go. It's quicker this way.]
[She sets off through the immense mounds of scrap metal, plastic, and rotting vegetation, still carrying him like one might a younger sibling.]
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Once they're over the other side, he starts to climb off her back, but she seems to have no intention of putting down, instead starting off at a brisk pace, still carrying him. And he realizes that it's likely for the better. Without his network, and his computers and his guardians, he isn't strong. He isn't capable. It's known to L, and acknowledged dispassionately, and accepted.]
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[The junkyard seems largely deserted, although small sounds and the occasional patter of disturbed rubble would suggest it's as full of otherworldly life as the rest of the town... but for now, nothing seems set on bothering them.]
[She lopes swiftly through the piles, taking them on an unmarked path... eventually, they reach the center, crowned by a massive mound of twisted metal and old trash... but somewhere up near the top, there's something like a hole, or a little depression... and something inside it glints a little bit. It's pretty far up there, though...]
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He gazes up once they're in the middle of the junkyard. It looks like a bug trap, he thinks, the sort of place something would end up after it's been ensnared for the idle pleasure of a child.]
There's a way out?
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[It's not the most ideal of situations, really, but at least they're almost there and nothing's trying to stop them, right?]
[.... Or not.]
[It's not close (yet), but a terrible sound echoes across the junkyard.]
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That figured. The louder it got, the more his ears hurt, and the more he wanted to scream the way he actually had as a child when a sound became too overwhelming.]
Heather...?
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[... Oh. Oh shit.]
[Hastily, she starts to climb faster... or try to.]
[There's a far-off crash. Then another one, closer. Something big is coming towards them.]
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~fin~