sad space dad had a bad (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shiro2hero) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2022-12-08 09:15 pm
shiro2hero) wrote in deercountry2022-12-08 09:15 pm
If I had died
Who: SHIRO & OPEN
What: Catchall for December Shenanigans, House Meeting, Event, Silent Hill Player Plot
When: All through the month.
Where: Mouse House, Around Trench
Content Warnings: Silent Hill type imagery/body horror, violence against snowmen, will update as needed
See the headers below for specifics!
What: Catchall for December Shenanigans, House Meeting, Event, Silent Hill Player Plot
When: All through the month.
Where: Mouse House, Around Trench
Content Warnings: Silent Hill type imagery/body horror, violence against snowmen, will update as needed
See the headers below for specifics!
SILENT HILL | ota
Frankly, the sirens should have been a dead giveaway. He should have known better. Should have realized something terrible was about to happen. There's a vague memory of something like this, though, for the life of him, he's not sure what. Though he does hunker down, hold his right hand up - purple light illuminating the surrounding area... and...
"Oh crap." Language, Shiro! One look at the peeling, warping world is all he needs to duck down behind some storage boxes in the alleyway. "Okay. Okay, wait for this to pass... then get home."
And so begins Shiro's exploration of Silent Trench Hill begins. Feel free to run into him anywhere - he's probably fairly visible, using his right hand for a flashlight and all.
2) THE MONSTERS | cw; silent hill style body horror
Unfortunately, the big glowing hand doesn't just attract other Sleepers. It will, inevitably, attract monsters. And with Shiro not having a radio to blare warning static, he is likely to be caught unawares by more than a couple horrors. Such as...
a) Masks
Staggering, swollen creatures on spindly legs. Its back is one huge growth, pulsing, twisting. Occasionally eyes emerge, blinking. Or mouths gape wide and drooling from its hide. Noses like pustules. Every so often, a full face appears, forms, and is plucked off, peeled off as if it were a scab, held up to the creature's head. The faces look... oddly familiar. People who may have been seen in Trench, or Deerington - or a young girl, face made of light, hair made of shadow.
The faces scream, sob, or plead. Or worse, they call out to Shiro himself.
b) Table
This one... is some kind of backward, metallic centaur of a creature. Its legs are hinged like an animal's joints, rusted here and there, glowing in between sloppily welded pieces with lurid purple light. The creature's back is stiff and rigid, slick with unidentifiable fluid - is it blood, is it oil? A human torso emerges from the front of it, tied down with heavy bolts and manacles embedded into flesh. Its arms, swollen and deformed with muscle, have been stitched on backward, reaching blindly out. There is no face, only a mouth, held shut with a thick metal gag. Stitching runs along its body, glowing that same ugly purple.
It bucks and wobbles, propelling itself forward blindly.
Both of the creatures are aggressive, but the Table is more so, and will attempt to tear its victims apart with those huge arms.
3) THE HOSPITAL | safe room or boss fight
When the door appeared out of the fog, Shiro bolted for it. Maybe you were there with him. But he bolted, he ran, and threw it open to just plain escape from the things he saw out there. He doesn't look at the hallway he ends up in. Not right away.
Instead, he sinks down, slides down to sit against the wall, breathing - focusing. Until he catches his breath, and the acrid stink of harsh chemicals makes itself known. He slowly lifts his head, staring around in abject horror.
It's a long, long hallway. Too long to see the end of. The overhead lights flicker weirdly - bright, searing white one moment, dull purple the next. Sometimes they stay one color of the other. Sometimes banks of them change, while others don't. White lights reveal white walls, white floors, white doors, like someone splashed the whole portion of the hall in paint. Purple lights show something else. More warped doorways, the color scheme all greys, blacks, purples and reds, more alien than the sterile hospital ward should be.
Shiro looks terrified. He tries to go back through the door, only to find a blank wall. His hands actually scrabble at it, metal fingers peeling off paint. But there's nothing.
Just a wall. And the looming specter of the hospital hall behind him.
2-A
And yet.
It's during one of her outings to leave warnings that she comes across an unfamiliar mass. She hears it long before she sees it. A strange cry here, a haunting sob there, but it's when it calls out for a familiar name that Sharon finds herself freezing in her place. Her stomach drops.
Shiro, it cries out, and everything inside of her grows cold. No. No, no, come on. She ducks behind the edge of a building and pulls out her gun, flicking the safety off. The weight gives her a mild sense of comfort. Maybe she can take care of this creature before it finds who it's looking for. It's the least she can fucking do.
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The beast calls out again, anguished, pleading. All but begging for help. To save her.
Somewhere, deep in the fog, there's an answering call. Someone shouting out a name. And this one, Sharon probably can identify.
"Allura!?" Breathless, hopeful and terrified all at the same time. "I - I'm coming!"
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"Shiro," Sharon calls out, her voice stern despite the worry that cradles her mind, turning towards the direction his voice echoed from, "It's not her! It's a trick!"
She keeps one eye on the creature, though, gun at the ready. She won't hesitate to put it down no matter what faces it pulled out from its hat of tricks. She knows how this world works and she's ready to do whatever it takes to protect those she's come to care for.
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The creature shifts, the face bubbling, melting back into a hideous growth in its skin. Spindly limbs reach back. It plucks another face off its pulsing, writhing skin, this one another young woman, her skin pale, scarred. But her hair is blue, now.
"Shiro! It's not her!" it screams. The blank eyes of the flesh mask turn to look at Sharon. "It's a trick!"
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"Fuck off with that," Sharon shouts at it, her face contorted with disgust and horror. She shouldn't let it get under her skin but it does.
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It's incredulous. A little afraid - not of her. For her. With Shiro's footsteps picking up the pace. More so when the gun goes off - a dead sprint getting closer.
For the creature's part, it doesn't make a sound, but the mask? The mask screams in agony. A human voice crying out for help and in pain.
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That's not a person. She knows that. It's a monster born out of a darkness that lives in someone else but it mimics a person too well.
"Shut up," and she fires another round, aiming center mass. It's done nothing to her except mimic strangers but she knows what it'll do to Shiro the moment he sees it; the moment he sees those faces and recognizes them.
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"Sharon...?"
And almost right on cue, there he is. Standing in the mouth of the alleyway, his face gone even paler than usual. The deflating creature reaches out, spindly arms trying to maintain the facade, the mimicry, even as it continues to die.
"Shiro..." it hisses. Oozing, sinking.
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"Shiro," she calls out breathlessly, glad the monster's life is fading even as it clings to its mimicry, "I tried to kill it before you got here, I didn't want you to see it."
Because she knew what it would do to him. Even now, she fears what it will do to him. He'd heard those voices, voices of friends, calling for his help.
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He can't take his eyes off it. He can pick out every face still lingering in the sagging flesh. Allura - Chloe - Eddie - Will - Lance - Keith - Adam - more and more seem to pop out the more the creature sinks in on itself. He goes from pale to vaguely green.
His heart jumps into his throat.
"What is that?"
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"It kept... It kept calling for you and changing faces. It knew what would bother you the most," she tells him uneasily. She spares the creature a last glance and then returns her gaze to him, "I-I think it was trying to lure you to it. You know how the monsters in Trench can be."
"I didn't think you should have had to kill that thing." The awful, human cries it had let out would haunt her for a few hours but it's Shiro's expression that will find its way into her nightmares.
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He can't take his eyes off Allura's feigned face. It makes his skin crawl. Makes the guilt well up and swirl in his chest.
"Thanks," he manages. He means it more than it sounds like, more than he can actually get out, verbally. "I... are there more of these?"
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1
Then he makes himself step outside and that's when he hears a familiar voice say 'Oh crap' from a nearby alley across the street. He frowns and heads over to try and get a better look in the dark and fog and sees the purple light. He makes a faint star above his hand for his own light source and pokes his head into the mouth of the alley and hears Shiro say more to himself about waiting it out.
"…Shiro?" He raises an eyebrow, "is that you?"
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He is, indeed, hunkered down. To wait it out. Sheltered behind a crate. From the looks of his outfit, he'd been on his way back from Waker Duty when the fog descended. He holds his hand up a little higher, straining to see his teammate through the dimness.
"Yeah, it's me."
So verified, he stands up, but doesn't turn the living glowstick hand off. Not yet.
"Are you okay?"
3 hospital (saferoom or bossfight you choose!)
That smell hits him like a ton of bricks and he feels two things rise: anger and sadness, and they're having it out right now over who's in control.
Then there's the hall. For a moment he thinks of the hospital he'd been chased into before he knew what the Zealots really were - before he'd known the horrors (and the small, smug triumph of fucking them over ...twice) of the Sleeper Farm, a thing that still makes him shudder, pricks up the hairs on the back of his neck.
The stretching, stretching hall, the changing of the lights - that's familiar but also different, and he's able to get a bit of a handle on the mess of emotions, wishing he didn't have to smell that hospital smell. The doors are an ...unexpected change.
And then there's the sound behind him, at which he turns to see the same man he'd followed - desperately clawing at a wall that doesn't look about to give way. The fear coming off him is palpable, so Mike remains where he is and doesn't close the distance, however much he thinks he should.
"Hey, do you know what this place is?"
He's waiting for the response to be something along the lines of yes and it's bad.
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There is no way out.
Still, it takes Shiro a while to accept it. To stop clawing at the walls in hopes of getting out again. The memories are holding him in place. Are threatening to choke and drown him. He knows this place. He knows both these places vying for existence around him.
Around... whoever's voice that is.
He's leaning against the wall, his forehead pressed to the slick, cold tile, before he responds. His tone defeated, bleak. Because yes, it is bad. Part of it is very, very bad.
"Nowhere you want to be," he murmurs, without pulling away from the wall. If he hunkers down here, maybe he can just ride this out. Not progress down the hallway.
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Okay, so this guy knows where they are. Maybe. It's not hard to tell this is probably not anyone's first (or fifth) choice. Nowhere you want to be can apply to this at first glance, no experience necessary.
It feels crazy, but maybe not engaging with the hallway is the way to go? He's seen and done crazier, so he approaches the wall and faces it, a few paces away, and not resting his head against it - not yet.
"Any idea what happens if we both don't look at it?" He knows a thing or two about belief feeding the beast. He also knows that sometimes it doesn't work like that at all.
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Why is this conversation still happening. Why is he still being asked questions. He wants to run. Wants to bolt. No, instead, they're talking. It's not this man's fault, logically, he knows it. But logic isn't really operating at full capacity.
Every breath is a memory, the harsh scent of chemicals, the reek of antiseptic. A painful, gruesome memory, threatening to overwhelm the longer they stay put. Shiro just doesn't see another option.
Hospitals. It just had to be hospitals.
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Will that manifest a secret hatch, a door at the end of the hall? Who knows. It might do nothing - that's happened before, too.
Maybe they should turn and face it. He can do that. He's done that, and he'd rather not, but he will if it means getting out. It's weird being the one with his shit together, but he'll take a look down that hallway, a hard swallow, and offer the question, "Want to make a run for it? I can make a hell of a distraction if you need me to."
It's reckless, but that's more familiar territory than hospitals.
2-B
"I've fought bigger and tougher than you, ugly." He raises his lightsaber in an offensive kata. He's trying to prepare for just about anything that this creature might throw at him, though he knows full well Trench often doesn't give him that luxury. Why should this rotting version of the world be any different?
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The aim of the assault, now, is to ram the opponent with the table it's bolted to. Knock them down. Tear them apart with the massive hands.
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Then he allowed the beast to come closer again. When it got within the range of Maul's saberstaff, he struck out, first with the end closer to the beast, and then flipping the other end of the staff in an uppercut move designed to slice a long injury upon the creature.
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So positioned, it takes that table and swings it around like a club. Trying to hit its attacker.
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When he straightened up, one hand was pressed to his chest. That had hurt. Well, that was a battle. Back and forth until one of them made a critical mistake. He held out his hand and summoned the Force, trying to quickly pull the monster towards him.