deercountry | ☣️ hellbent

Entry tags:

☣️ hellbent | OPEN

Who: Bigby the Abomination, OPEN
What: Catch-all for November, which includes the Sleeper Farm. Will be specifically marked.
When: November
Where: Various locations to coincide with the event
Notes: Will be continuing TDM threads in this log as well! In addition, if you desire a more specific prompt let me know. Alternatively, please feel encouraged to make your own as well.

Content Warnings: Body horror, violence, mentions of trauma, previous torture and mutilation

☣️ I. OUTSIDER'S RESPITE

[There is much to explore in this new place.

The hamlet of his world had been much smaller, of course. The districts easy to navigate, a bit more life coming to it bit by bit. Here, the Trench feels much more like a true city, and that quite honestly makes him feel uneasy. A place with such a thick population is a high potential for danger to others. He dislikes it, feels his guts wrench; a flash of fear, a flash of excitement, and he grinds his teeth to find his focus.

Calm. Easy. People have been nothing but accepting, and it would be terrible to ruin such kindness thus far. There is no danger, not right this minute, not now.

After a bit of breathing to ease his mind, Bigby lets out a soft huff of air and lets himself go exploring. Despite the warm greeting he'd been given, he still clings to his old clothing; his shroud, tattered and patched a dozen times over, ragged and sad to see, and his trousers no different. The man still has not bothered with shoes, his bare feet against the ground. The rattle of his chains can be heard easily as they still bind around his body to this very moment.

In Lumenwood, he is crouched by one of the many patches of flowers. Despite both of smell of the flowers and the stench of blood, they are beautiful. It has been too long since he's last seen blooms of this kind. There's almost a smile on Bigby's face. Almost.

Most other places are a bit too populated to really help his stress levels, but eventually Bigby makes his way back toward the shores, finding an odd comfort in Sanguine Station. It reminds him of the tavern of the hamlet, and it is much smaller, more quaint here. Not the most adequate place for meditation, but he does take a drink and keep to his own corner.

Truly, though, he can be found walking through most places, taking stock of what feels safe -- and what certainly will not be.]

☣️ II. SLEEPER FARM

[Waking in bondage is not unusual.

Waking in more chains than he remembers ever donning onto himself is another matter.

Should you have the misfortune of sharing a stall with Bigby, he jerks awake, his eyes wide and green. For a moment, he feels blinded with fear, struggling in what he's been shackled with. His heartrate increases, and he breathes uneasily.]

No-- no, I escaped, you wretches! I escaped you all!

[The memories pierce him horribly. A burning brand to his head, searing his skin. The delight his torturers took to him, to make him repent, as if he ever had any say in whether or not he would be cursed, as if he ever wanted to be. Calling him sinner, cackling in his pain, the years he counted!]

It'll have your meat, grind your bones! You know this!

☣️ III. A GIBBOUS MOON

[He feels it. Boiling in his blood, his heart, its instincts howling inside of him.

So he leaves the city as evening starts to roll in. The moon will be strong tonight, and so will it. Something that Bigby needs to prepare for.

Ah, that time of the month? the jester would cackle, as if the joke had never been told before. Somehow, having the matter made light made the burden that easier to carry.

In any case, Bigby leaves, clutching his cloak to himself. When he spots anyone else, he'll mutter:]

Do not be out late. It is a difficult night, and one never knows what lurks out there.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( The moon affects him....? By now, Rose has seen too many seemingly impossible things to dismiss anything as truly impossible. And though she can't even imagine the extent to what he's referring to.... she can't help thinking, yet again, of her daughter. It's what his words remind her of — 'worse half'.

She'd so freshly learned how her daughter was actually one half of a whole. She'd seen the demonic thing that made up the other half, even welcomed it into herself.... comforted it, let that dark entity inside. Protected it... her until she could stand on her own again. Alessa.

Rose isn't without fear of what he's saying, but perhaps she isn't as afraid as she should be. She just stares widely at him, and then blinks down to the item he gestures to. )

Yes, I found it— on the beach. ( She remembers him saying something before, about being able to track things belonging to others.... but now might not be the time, if he's... awaiting something. )

I think it must mean that she's... really here. That I can find her again. ( Rose swallows, brow furrowing as she studies him. ) ....What's inside of you?

[Rose is hesitant.

It doesn't hurt to observe that, honestly. It just tells him that, truly, she has witnessed something horrific. The way she was wary about trusting others, how startled she was by his appearance as a man. It is only tragic to him that she's had to endure terror beyond being separated from her daughter; something else has happened.]

A monster.

It is a beast I struggle with every moment of my life now. It is why I wear these chains, to keep it back. Why I am branded.

An abomination.

When the moon is full and bright, the beast is at its strongest. And so it is I become a feral thing, no better than any beast in the wild.

( The chains... and the marring on his head. Rose's eyes slowly look back up that strange, awful sight — the A there in his skin. It hurts to look at, and she visibly winces at what he reveals, upset etched deeply into her features. He was branded.

Again, she can't help thinking of her daughter, of what she had been born out of. Another little girl who had been...... mutilated, burned... her skin searing with pain.

Rose closes her eyes for a long moment, as though overwhelmed by something that haunts her, brought out by his words. Then she's slowly opening them again, releasing a shuddery breath, a puff of fog in the air's chill. )

....What does it want?

( She knows, even the darkest of creatures want something. Yearn for something. What about his...? )

To eat.

[The words come out softly, as his strength whittles away as the night crawls in. He licks his lips and glances away, wincing to himself. Admitting all of it is not unusual, but it never becomes any easier. If Rose comes to distrust him, he truly could not begrudge her for that.]

It wants to hunt. To eat. Destroy. Its hunger bottomless.

It's not something you can bargain with, no more than you could a starved dog.

( The woman's mouth parts softly, gives the softest sound, a quiet ghost of a gasp. Instinctively, she tightens her hold on the bear in her arms.

The monsters she'd known in Silent Hill had seemed... that way. Bottomless. Driven by something deep and unreachable, fueled by a tormented child's nightmares. There was no logic to those monsters. Only a relentless drive to destroy whatever tried to get close to Alessa. It's a wonder Rose survived at all. )

So you're... coming out here by yourself? To let it free so it can't hurt anyone?

( It could be the ramblings of a madman. It could be. ....But somehow... she doesn't think so. Not after everything she's seen. )

How long will it stay? Will you... come back?

[There is the urge to reassure her, as if somehow that would be possible. But he sees the small tells, the way she clutches the bear, her gasp. If Bigby were to try to give comfort, it would be a lie, and how utterly pointless that would be.

If anything, at least he can be honest with her.]

That is the intent. I pray to Light that none will be so foolish as to wander the evening in the wild, for their sake.

It will be only for this night. When dawn comes, I shall return, a man once more. At that time... if you would like, I will help you if I can. I would not begrudge your wariness now from what you know of me, of course.

( The monsters held no logic, only knew pain and suffering and how to inflict that on others in turn, but.... the girl at the root of it wasn't only a monster. Despite everything, all of the horrors Alessa had granted to those who wronged her, or those who were simply unfortunate enough to be caught up in the midst of it, there was still some capacity for.... light. For mercy. She had spared two mothers through that bloodshed. Protected them.

The girl had protected the last remnants of light within herself, too.

This man, for whatever awful darkness he speaks of, is out here with the intention to spare others from being hurt by him. And once again, Rose thinks to how he'd taken a sip of that food first, made sure it was safe for her, so that she could go on searching for her little girl. Even now he's... offering to help her, when he returns to himself.

Perhaps it's naïve, foolish — and certainly premature to assess him, given she hasn't witnessed the... transformation he speaks of. But it's hard for her to see him as "monster". )

...It's kind of you. ( She offers, still nervous, but she doesn't move back from him just yet. ) Whatever this is that happens to you... you're trying to protect people from it. You're very kind.

Is there anything I can do to help you...? Before it happens?

[Kind. A few times he has been called this now in Trench, and it's hard to digest. There have also been times he's been wretched, a burden, too despondent to be useful. Terrible to his comrades. He does not want to be this way toward others ever again if he can help it.

He closes his eyes and bows his head faintly.]

Not this night, but I am grateful that you would think to ask, Rose.

For now, as the evening draws near, I ought to depart. For your sake, and everyone else's.

( There's still so much about this man, his situation, that Rose doesn't understand, but it's clear how... there's a torment to him. It does call to her heart — she, who has become a protector of tormented things in such a short amount of time, and yet accepts that role so easily. Perhaps it was always meant for her. )

All right, but— you said you'd be back to yourself at dawn? I can help you then. Get back home, or... wherever you want to go.

( Though he'd offered to help her continue the search for her daughter at that time, she's sure the man will be exhausted after this... transformation he's speaking of. And she no doubt will be too, when the sun starts to rise after a long, chilly night of wandering. She can keep searching near the outskirts of the city until dawn, and then help him, and then... perhaps they both can rest. )

Please. I know you don't really know me, but... you helped me. I'd like to help you, too.

( There's a careful softness with him, still halfway like addressing a wounded animal, but there's also a stubbornness — her brows set, features resolved. ....It's a distinctively Mom Expression. )

[Home.

So many people have made their home here already. It isn't that Bigby is opposed, but he... he has not had a home in years. He doesn't even have a roof over his head in Trench, albeit by choice. Rather than state any of this, he nods stiffly. Perhaps because of the distinct motherly expression, or because of something else.]

You are kind to extend that offer to me, Rose.

I will see you in the morning. From there... we will see.

( Again, it's maybe stupid in its way. She has no idea what she's really dealing with, here. What he could... become, how he might be afterwards. To volunteer to help him after could be just as dangerous as what's about to happen now.

But how could she not.....? Leaving behind someone in such clear turmoil.... she feels bad enough leaving him now as it is. And some part of her is tempted to... stay closer than she should, see it for herself.

But he'd warned her to go, and she won't betray that. The thing that he'd spoken of, its hunger... she feels a deep sympathy for his plight, but there is a fear of it too, and a certain sense of urgency starts to scrape its way up out of her, making her heart beat a bit faster again. He'd given her a warning; now it's up to her to heed it.

Rose nods, taking a few steps backwards before she starts to move off, quickly, back towards the entrance into the city. She does turn to look back at the man before she gets too far to see him, sending him a smile — small and sad, but there's a warmth too. She hopes he'll be all right after. )

[Much of the memory is blurred together, as is often the case for his more forced transformations. Some parts more easily come together, but it's still disjointed, puzzle pieces that don't quite fit together or finish in any meaningful way. He remembers howling, screaming to the moon, the sky, prowling and then trying not to.

Ironically, the only real relief he has is waking up hungry. Knowing that the beast starved in the outside is the best possible outcome. His hands and mouth are relatively clean, no blood, just dirt, plants, and bark from a monster's temper tantrum.

Dawn breaks. A bit of sunlight is a welcome look as he goes back toward the city, but finds himself hesitating outside before truly going in.

Slowly, he sits to the ground instead, closing his eyes tight. Idly, he rubs his hands against his worn trousers, as if that would somehow wash away the evening.

Bigby is tired, but he does want to keep his word to Rose and see her in the morning.]

( The moon is swollen and she's safely within the walls of the city when she hears him.

Rose knew something like that must be coming, but she couldn't have prepared herself for it. Even from a safe distance, it chills her to the bone, the way he screams, howls in the night's stillness. It wants to hunt, he'd told her. To eat. Destroy.

She wonders if it's found what it's looking for.

As he hunts on the outside, she continues her search on the inside. Old buildings near the city's outskirts, a warehouse, places a child shouldn't be, but she fears that's the exact sort of place hers would. Once, a hunter approaches her and asks if she's seen anything strange. She doesn't tell them about him, the man out there (she realises she hasn't even learned his name). She gestures in the opposite direction instead, and the hunter carries on.

It's a long night, and by the time the soft glow of dawn begins to spread outwards, the mix of adrenaline rush and determination that keeps her going has worn down. She feels older than she is, body stiff and aching, the bear still kept tucked safely to herself.

She's near the front entrance but doesn't see him — so she cautiously finds her way out again, lifting her head towards the sky, free of the moon now. That's when she spots the shape sitting there on the ground, unmoving. Rose approaches, careful, and as she gets closer she can see from the state of him how worn he is. Very slowly, she crouches down beside the man, speaks in a hushed whisper. )

Hey. Hey, you okay?

[Usually, his senses are better than this, but he is truly exhausted and worn to the bone. So when Rose speaks, Bigby blinks his eyes open, confused a moment before he clearly recognizes her.

Ah. She did come. If she hadn't, he wouldn't have begrudged her for it. Instead, Rose kept to her word and has found him here. For a moment, he doesn't say anything; he swallows, glancing away briefly before words finally come to him.]

Though I am weary, I am better than I thought I would be.

It went hungry. Tis for the best it did.

[Even if, in turn, he is also hungry, but that can be addressed later.]

It... didn't eat?

( The immediate thought is relief — because the thought of what this thing would need to eat is........ highly distressing, to say the very least. There's a part of Rose later on that'll be floored at herself for so "easily" letting him go off to hunt and feed, but... what could she do? She couldn't stop him, certainly. And if the people around here get hurt by him... they're not her responsibility, are they? But that thought makes guilt flutter unpleasantly in her stomach all the same.

It's a strange place to be, a degree of morality that still feels foreign, but...... isn't entirely foreign. She'd helped someone (something) murder dozens and dozens of people, not too long before this.

They deserved it, they had what was coming, and even though she flinched while it was happening, she was glad to see them scream—

Rose pushes all of it aside, and moves to stand up, offering him her hand in case he needs help getting to his feet. She meant what she said; she'll make sure he gets back all right. )

Let's get you inside... and to a bed. Which district do you live in?

There is not much in the way of things to hunt in the wild. And it does not particularly favor anything lacking in flesh. Better for it to starve at the moment... and I find comfort in knowing our belly is empty.

[It kills his worries when he can't remember everything that's happened prior. He can catch glimpses of memories when he isn't in control, but not everything is as vivid as if he was the one making the actions, the choices.

The question makes him hesitate, his head ducking slightly. Still, he does take her hand, careful with his grip as he gets to his feet. His fingers are rough, callused, but his grip is gentle.]

I... do not particularly stay in the city. I've made shelter in the woods.

( The way he words it is... enlightening, in a frightening sort of way. Our belly, something shared. What happens to the beast happens to him, too.... and it means that he's been left hungry.

Rose's mouth tightens, lips pressing together as she helps this strange man to his feet and casts another look out at the dark woods nearby. To hear that he's been living out there.... Her brow furrows, something sad sinking into her eyes. Once again, she thinks of Dahlia, the outcast of Silent Hill. That broken woman, shrouded in rags, left to fend for herself.

It's understandable that he'd want to stay out here, really. But she can't just leave him like this. )

Why don't you come back with me? You can stay for a few hours, get some rest and some food.

( It wouldn't be the first time she'd led something half-monstrous back to her home. But she adds something on, because she understands if he might not want to stay indoors too long— )

You can leave whenever you want to.

[If he were stronger, he would tell her no. That he could handle this, that this was his burden to bear. And usually, he might, but his stomach is so empty and he's exhausted from the fight with this beast inside of him.

For a moment, Bigby is quiet, his eyes closing. When was the last he had a real bed? Somewhere warm and dry.

So eventually, he nods.]

If that is no trouble to you.

It's no trouble at all. ( She gives a soft, tired smile. Truthfully, it would be nice to have some company for a little while. And as much as she'd love to spend every waking minute of her life searching for Sharon, she has to rest sometimes too, returning back to the little place she found in Crenshaw. The house is.... too quiet, too lonely. )

It's not too far. It's just me living there. Well... and my Omen, I think they're called?

( Who will be greeting them as Rose leads him to the Victorian cottage — a pure white dove that coos at them from her perch on the little porch. She tilts her head curiously at Bigby, and one could even swear there's a hint of concern in the bird's eyes. )

Do you have one, too? I wasn't sure if everyone did.

[Rose is too kind, he thinks. But also sensibly wary when she needs to be, someone who has survived and will continue surviving. Still, he does feel odd at being offered some basic comfort of a dry shelter and a bed. It has been a long time since he's had either.

The cottage is gorgeous, and he's glad that Rose has somewhere to be. Even if its halls are likely lonely without a daughter to love and raise. For that, his heart does ache for her.

The dove is equally suitable.]

I do. It, ah-- it is a wolf. I take no joy in startling others with it.

( As they near the porch, the dove flutters her wings and gives another soft sound, before flying to greet them. Rose holds her hand out, giving a little smile to the bird as she perches there at her fingertips, tilting her head curiously at Bigby. Meanwhile, Rose's other hand reaches for the door to unlock it and let them both in.

Though it's a small space, it's comfortable and clean — she's been taking good care of it despite everything going on. Rose slips out of her boots and starts to lead him to the kitchen, which isn't stocked with much just yet, but she'll find something to feed him. )

Do you spend a lot of time with them? Your wolf? ( The image of such a creature is admittedly intimidating, but Rose knows by now that the Omens are meant to assist, guide. ) I imagine a wolf would be a nice companion. Like having a dog around.

( She's quietly looking through the cabinets as she talks. ) My daughter wanted a puppy for years, like I'm sure all kids do, but my husband... well. He didn't like mess too much.

[For a moment, Bigby hesitates as the door opens. He almost doesn't want to drag his filthy, bare feet into her home, but he doesn't have many options. Albeit self-conscious, he still goes to follow her.]

On occasion. It... reminds me of a comrade. He was a houndmaster and a lawman; both he and his dog were an excellent team, and more accepting of me than some. I often forget about my omen with enough on my mind.

[But it has had its uses.]

Children will always seek companionship, I imagine. Be it others their age or a loyal animal.

[For a moment, he finds it curious that this is really the first time that she has mentioned a husband. It isn't his business of course, but all of Rose's concern (and understandably so) has been about her lost daughter.

Likely he is overthinking it.]

I have not forgotten my offer to you, Rose. Know that.

( She doesn't mind at all, regarding any mess — and her own feet and palms and hair are dirty too, not to mention her clothing — she's only thinking of feeding him in the immediate moment. Food first, then other things. )

Oh, really? What was his name? If you don't mind me asking. ( It isn't an attempt to be nosy, but a genuine interest; she really knows so little about where the man has come from. And she looks over her shoulder at him as she speaks, conversational despite the exhaustion that's no doubt mutual between them. It had been a long night. )

My Sharon is... very shy. She has a hard time making friends, but she's very sweet. ( Rose muses softly, pulling out some bread, cheese, and meat she'd managed to buy at the market. After washing her hands, she starts to prepare sandwiches; they're simple, hardly what she's used to from the delis back home.... but it's good food nonetheless.

As she's plating a sandwich for him and bringing it over, Rose looks up at the words, expression softening into a quiet smile. )

That's very kind of you, but don't worry about that right now. You need to focus on yourself for a little while. ( Is that a tad bit of a Mom Tone in there? Maybe. With that, she places the plate in front of him, as well as a glass of water. )

Please, eat as much as you like. I have plenty, so I can make another if you want.

William. He was one of the first I could call a friend when I began work as a mercenary for a hamlet. A good man, loyal to his ideals and hound alike.

Your daughter sounds like a true treasure. ...There had been a part of me, once, that desired to be a father. I fear that is no longer a possibility, for many a reason.

[Briefly, he's speechless as being mothered; not a single person comes to mind that has treated him ever as such. Wordlessly, he takes the glass of water and plate alike, then bows his head.]

...You are too kind, Rose. Thank you.

[And he is hungrier than he expects somehow, even though he's gone the entire evening without a single bite. It's terrible manners he will be embarrassed by later, but he wolfs the sandwich down and drains the glass quickly. It's good, even in its simplicity.

He sighs, flushed green from his poisonous blood, and a bit embarrassed.]

Erm, yes. Another, if it is no trouble, my lady.

A mercenary... that sounds so much more exciting than where I come from.

( What a life he's led, one dealing with things so far beyond her scope of normalcy. But then her smile shifts at what he says next, flutters into a frown. A part of him had desired to be a father, once. A gentle ache presses up under the woman's sternum; her heart hurts to hear him say it. She doesn't verbally answer, not just yet — it's something she quietly absorbs for the immediate moment, giving it her complete focus. The sound of the creature's howls plays in her mind.

Hands wrapped around her own glass of water, Rose silently watches him eat, thinking on what he's said — and in a matter of moments, he's scarfed it all down, and she can't help a little laugh, soft through the fresh sadness that still lingers in her for him. )

Honestly, I'm glad to have someone around to eat up some of this food. I'm going to send some back with you too, you know.

( Rose gets up, smiling at him over her shoulder before she fixes up another sandwich — this one with about twice as much meat, carefully folding it over so it's easier to eat. She tops off his glass too, as she sets the plate back before him and then follows suit, quietly sitting down too. Perhaps what comes next isn't her place to say, but it's something she wants to tell him. )

...For whatever it's worth, I think you'd make a wonderful father.

☣️ hellbent | OPEN

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cw: mention of child mutilation / burning

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left this capable of either being a wrap or we could continue when morning comes, if you prefer!

i opted to continue and i hope that's cool!!

Definitely, I'm so here for it!!!

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