111. Fourth Wall Post [VIDEO/ACTION FOR ANYWHERE]

[foolishwren]

_{[Static. Then, jumbled, chaotic video-- but through it all, there's the gruff, guttural voice of a Croconaw.]}

T-turn on the camera!

Hurry!!




How do I get her to let go?!

<sub>[Karma.]

[It takes awhile... but it eventually comes back around.]</sub>


[ooc: Heather has become Memory of Alessa for the duration of Fourth Wall! Feel free to tag if you want your character to interact with spooky semi-feral zombie-Heather, no matter where they are!]

Comments

[foolishwren]

<sub>[She can see her reflection! Sort of. More like an indistinct blobby version of herself.]

[... But, well, even an indistinct blobby version of herself is pretty unpleasant to look at, so she curls her lip slightly and decides to stand up again.]

[The question gets what might pass for a thoughtful look on her relatively emotionless face. How exactly can you articulate that sort of thing without speaking?]

[Finally she settles for pointing a blackened, clawlike finger at him and then shaking her head, as if to say You don't wanna know.]</sub>

[smotherswithlove]

[ He nods and holds a hand up.]

Alright, I won't bother you about it anymore.

[ That wont stop him from silently wondering how she'd ended up like this. He idles on a niggling thought that maybe she'd found her way back to Silent Hill; that something found her or...something. ]

[ he tenderly clasps her outstretched hand and eases it down. It's okay. I get it. ]

I guess first thing's first... do you remember me?

[foolishwren]

<sub>[It's surprising, the boldness with which he's willing to actually touch her. Those hands of hers are the talons of a goblin more than they are the fingers of a girl, but he's not shying away.]

[It's sort of refreshing, actually.]

[So she scratches her head, amiably enough.]

[She doesn't remember him-- not precisely... but he's got the stench of the town on him. She'd know it anywhere. And he hasn't escaped it yet, has he? Poor guy...]

[Holding up a finger to signal "Wait.", she bends down again and starts to scrape at the dirt. TIME FOR COMMUNICATION THROUGH DRAWING.]

[The scribbles are crude, but recognizable-- and there's several of them. A Halo of the Sun, a Seal of Metatron, and a question mark behind them both.]

[He doesn't seem like a member of the Order. But she might as well ask.]</sub>