[network][video] @Enoch; Day 241 [open] [blood and bones and human skin leather, Hell Tower]

[warriorscribe]

[Enoch speaks from behind the camera as it is raised from pointing at his feet, having turned the video function on in some amount of haste. The camera pans over the grisly scene of building 264, and all of its "blood, broken bones, scattered teeth, human skin turned to leather and used to decorate the walls". There are prophet symbols all over the cubicle walls and the walls of the building itself.]

Look at this...what did they do, all in the name of some "prophet" who was only a frightened, blinded girl? [He speaks to someone farther behind the camera:] Quark, perhaps you should go back up to the bridge? This place is... I don't want to subject you to it.

[When Quark has gone, after whatever discussion ensues, he resumes talking to the network.]

The air here... [He swallows heavily.] It's awful, thick and foreboding. Oh, it's like breathing vileness in all over again... I should follow him, get out- no.

[He tucks the tablet into his makeshift belt and goes outside, finding a spot away from the door and beginning to dig in the snow, unslinging his backpack and bringing out a large, flat piece of scrap metal to act as a crude shovel to help.]

I can't leave it like this. This is wrong, to leave these people like this. I can't bury all of it, but-

[He's interrupted as he hits ground beneath the snow. He can't dig through it no matter how hard he tries.]

...That isn't ideal. But it must suffice.

[He returns inside, shuddering as the atmosphere rolls over him, and begins gathering as many remains as he can carry at a time, moving them to the grave he'd just dug in the snow and clearing out snow that had fallen in. He tears a piece of leather off the wall and reveals a prophet symbol, which he pauses at with a wordless noise of surprise.

He comes back to this uncovered eye after finishing his crude grave and the doors have locked for the night. His breathing is heavy from the labor and distress as he removes the camera from his "belt" and switches it to the internal camera to show his face. Despite all the activity, the oppressive atmosphere and gruesome task has him looking sickly pale, the healthy flush draining from his face rapidly.]

I wonder why...what significance did covering these eyes have, and why human skin? Why such a macabre scene? I hope I've brought some comfort to whoever belonged to those remains I buried...they must be suffering in here.

((Anyone else staying the night here is free to come down and drag him upstairs where it's marginally less hellish. Or just announce their presence because he thinks he's alone in here.))

Comments

@ASolomons; audio

[devoutish]

Where is it, on the map?

[So that he can never go there.]

video

[warriorscribe]

[The air is so distractingly unsettling it takes him a few minutes to remember his directions, and this from someone who has developed an excellent sense of direction from centuries of travel.]

It's...in the northeast, across the bridge leading south from the one near the corner. Does that give you a clear enough idea?

video; I'm sorry, I never got the notif for this!

[devoutish]

Mm, yeah, I think so. And is it typical of the other buildings in the area?

video; it's okay!

[warriorscribe]

Ergh... [That disgusted sound means yes. Yes they are. Human sacrifice bothers him on a basic level of "human death is wrong", but he can at least bear it for the sake of not starting trouble. However, most cultures that did so he came across didn't just...leave the corpses and their pieces lying about.]

...Not to this extent, but yes. Bloodied, full of prophet symbols. The zealots certainly didn't value life or a dignified death... Whatever ritual their sacrifices were for, they didn't see any need to bury or even wrap the dead. The bodies are simply abandoned.

video;

[devoutish]

For fuck's sake.

[He needs to pause for a moment before going on.]

And the supply situation, the food situation - is there still not much to be found?

video;

[warriorscribe]

I know...if it was possible, I would bury them all.

[Why such disrespect for the dead? Even those that believed the remaining corpse to be nothing but a discarded shell either buried or burned them! When Alfie speaks again, he nods.]

"Vending machines", as Winter said. There's more than one, but Doctor Watson said the food itself is lacking. As well if multiple people sleep in the stations in succession, the food might run out. Whatever Eve uses to refill the machines, it refuses to do so if one of us is present.

video;

[devoutish]

Where are supply drops needed? Which buildings?

[warriorscribe]

Ah...there's a bus station not far from this building as well, I think. It might do us good to store extra food in the stations themselves? There are no bodies in them that I've seen so far, and it would be an intuitive place to look for food. Failing that, I'm afraid I don't know the area well enough yet to say.

[devoutish]

The bus stations. All right. and how many are there? Have you marked them up on the map?

@Iwillnot ; video

[absentconstellation]

It may comfort you to know that the Black God takes all souls, buried or not.

video

[warriorscribe]

Ideally, so would mine. I don't think our respective worlds' gods can reach us here.

[He looks again at the bloodied room around him. He can almost hear the gurgling cries of the souls twisted and tormented by the vileness, back in The Darkness, if he closes his eyes. With another shudder, heavier, he shifts uncomfortably and scoots over to a marginally-farther spot from the nearest prophet eye.]

...I hope they take them, if the heavens of this world can't offer these any respite, themselves.

video

[absentconstellation]

No, they cannot. But it may be that they were able to before we were brought here.

[ Go on, take the comfort. It's better than feeling sorry for the long dead. ]

[warriorscribe]

I do not think they've been taken. The air here is...

[He shakes his head. No. This is the ambient feeling of souls in deep unrest, at best. It may not be his world, but it is too close to The Darkness for him to accept such a comforting theory.]

[absentconstellation]

I see.

[ That's unfortunate. But still... ]

Do not mistake their suffering for your own. None of this will matter to them, once their souls are free to move on. Look to your own needs, Enoch. You, at least, are not dead yet.

[warriorscribe]

[For Enoch, that's much easier said than done. Or perhaps in some cases impossible. Not feeling their suffering as his own, for example. The fact that the situation reminds him of his own suffering to begin with really doesn't help matters.]

My own needs...

[The only reason he considers it at all is because there's nothing he can actually do here, not yet, to meet the spirits' needs.]

I know dying here will do me no good, but I'm not certain what else I could be doing. I have no appetite, and don't think I can sleep here. I can't leave until morning. I'm warming myself as best I can.

[Psychological needs? What are those? He's aware of them on an instinctual level, and is happy when someone else pays attention to them, but has very little capacity to recognize them as true needs. He's better at - of course - seeing them in other people.]

[absentconstellation]

You must eat, and you must drink. Sleep will come, in time.

If it does not, perhaps I can help.

[ He doesn't mind staying up purring for a while. ]

[warriorscribe]

[Reluctantly, with a grimace at his surroundings, he pulls out a water bottle to slowly sip away at. His stomach churns at swallowing anything in this place with a pang of sharp pain, pulled from the depths of an awful memory. But he knows what the Cat says is true. To his credit, he seems to have his gag reflex on a tight leash, even if he very clearly forces the first few sips down.

He distracts himself with the Cat's offer. A cat's purring is relaxing, but between the tablet and the fact that he never fell asleep to a cat's purr, he doesn't immediately get it.]

Help? How so?

@Mnemosyne; video

[bookofnope]

[Well, this, this brings back memories. Not, Beckett thinks, that there is any connection; impossible, but the association is nonetheless there, and it rivets his attention. He is even distracted from Enoch's obvious distress, however briefly, staring at the video with wide eyes sharp with interest, and yet seeing inwards as much as out.]

I wonder how they were able to process... no, don't get rid of it, we need to have a closer examination.

video

[warriorscribe]

[If it weren't Beckett, if he didn't know that he wouldn't so easily dismiss his pain, he might feel hurt. That Beckett seems to have seen something of import here carries weight enough to bring his attention to finding it in spite of the air reminding him of the awful torment he's seen in store for particularly unlucky souls. The strain doesn't vanish from his voice or the corners of his mouth, but his eyes are alert, no longer halfway looking into the past it reminds him of.]

I couldn't possibly gather all of them in a night. What did you see that I should examine?

video

[bookofnope]

Processing skin into leather is hard, time-consuming work. This isn't something done in a religious frenzy or just to intimidate. There is thinking and no doubt a purpose at play. The remains should be examined for inscriptions, at the least, though the tanning method itself might tell us something interesting...

[So he goes, peering at the view - Enoch and the blood - with the scientific interest of someone who'd seen processed human remains quite often enough to have forgotten to be uncomfortable at them. For a while, at least. One, two long blinks, and suddenly, he shakes his head hard.]

... but it shouldn't be you to do it. No. I'm sorry. It's... this reminded me of something. Someone.

video

[warriorscribe]

No- no, no, you're right. You're absolutely right, that's-...

[Enoch looks up again at the walls and their ghastly decorations. He'd seen human leather used in strips, as battle trophies. It was a thing some countries did. The senselessness of all of this, though, the bones and blood and teeth everywhere...and knowing who their "prophet" was, that she would have been horrified by it all...

He realizes he's stood and had begun approaching one unconsciously.]

They've seemed utterly beyond reason, but this suggests otherwise. I hadn't thought of it.

[He reaches a hand out to touch it lightly, whispering an apology to whoever it used to belong to:] I'm sorry if this upsets you. I swear it I'm only trying to learn to help you and all of us escape this, and I will bury this piece of you when I can.

[With his free hand, he lifts the tablet again, to look at Beckett. He's still pale, and breathing a little heavier than normal, but definitely determined now.]

I have delved into The Darkness to come to another's aid before. I can take a building that only feels like it. Between us and our knowledge of our respective eras, we might find something, if you'll help me.

[bookofnope]

No, this - Enoch, I -

[Startled, and deeply discomfited, he falls into awkward silence watching his friend move about the room. Of course Enoch speaks to the bloody leather, as though the dead and processed flesh can hear him. His kindness is absurd, and painfully moving. He has to try again -]

I can do it myself, if you give me a good sense of the location. Just leave it to me. I'll even give the remains a proper burial, when I'm done.

[When Steve set him to dig graves for the specimen in the part he did it grudgingly and with no other intention than to secure future help from the man. And he liked Steve. Sometimes he's amazed at the things Enoch makes him think and do.]

[warriorscribe]

[He leans against the section of wall beside the piece when Beckett continues to protest, not wanting, of course, to lean on the stretch of leather itself. He knows he's trying to protect him, and that knowledge alone, given what Beckett has said about his kind (whether Enoch takes it all at face value or not), is heartwarming. It's enough to make the air feel a little less oppressive for a moment, strain melting away into some form of calm, fueled by fondness.]

I appreciate it, my friend, I truly do. But I would not want to take you out of your way for something I could do now. And, in any case, whatever you're trying to shield me from, I would rather face it than sit here and do nothing. Which is worse, that which might help or doing nothing for fear it won't? If the spirit this once belonged to protests our examination, I will gladly stop for their sake.

[bookofnope]

[It's not Enoch's strength that he doubts, looking into that steadfast face. Of course he can do it. But he shouldn't have to. Beckett sucks in a ragged breath through gritted fangs. How does he explain - ?

If he can't, maybe he's wrong to try to. Enoch is still thinking of helping, of course he is. They each hold on to sanity and selfhood in their own way, don't they?]

All right - all right, as you say. Who knows what the owners of these skins might have wanted. We need the knowledge. Can you detach the sheets from the wall to examine them all over? What about the other remains? You can tell ages from teeth, and sometimes health. If you are methodical about the examination.

[Examining the human materials as just that - materials. Easier said than done.]

[warriorscribe]

Of course. Age I might be able to tell, but would you be able to tell me what to look for otherwise?

[Easier said than done, indeed. But Enoch, at least, seems to have found an approach that allows him to do this, with his apology and signs of respect, with the care he detaches this sheet from the wall, knowing it is not bound for immediate burial like the other. He makes an immediate observation in the removal itself, just the act of laying it out gently and carefully. He throws himself both into the work and respecting the former owner to distract himself from the memories the feeling in the air drags up.]

...Strange. We don't have much hair to remove to begin with, but this was cleaned perfectly, and isn't discolored in the slightest. Has the process changed much?