[network] @claytonator; Prints/Thanks [open] [deathtalk?]

[dr_unconscious]

[text - day 010, early evening]

[Posted first is a picture that Clayton's taken of the roof of house 60--more specifically, of a nearby crested window. The top of it is covered in snow, of course, but it isn't fresh, meaning that the uncountable number of tiny prints within it are well-preserved. Each is perfectly circular and roughly the circumference of a pen.]

Staying at a nice house next to the southern wall with fresh water tonight, and I found this hatch that has a view of the roof. These footprints(?) were on top of the window next to it.

Does anybody know what would make these? Some kind of animal?


[video - day 011, morning]

[When Clayton wakes up the next morning, he's feeling very different. This has nothing to do with the excitement from last night; it has everything to do with suddenly remembering four days' worth of information all in one go. It's like a brilliant epiphany, or like opening a musty album and finding an old, forgotten photograph--or something in-between. Clayton can't quite put his finger on it. But suddenly all those old posts have a real, tangible context for him to work with, all these meetings and relationships people keep mentioning connect. He remembers dying.]

[Holy shit, he actually died.]

[This is all a bit too much to take in at once. Clayton needs time to parse it. Or at the very least, somewhere to start. The whole "dying" thing demands his attention, but he doesn't feel prepared to tackle that right now. Still, he ends up watching his video from when it happened...several times. Settling in on specific conversations, laughing at depressing jokes, spending some silent minutes sifting through usernames and tracing them back to the obituaries.]

[By the time he actually thinks of something to say on the network, Clayton's eyes are puffy with tears. But for all the sadness he's just waded through, he's grinning, ear-to-ear, the epitome of happiness. There is nothing forced about this.]

Hey, uh...goodness.

[He has to stop, sniffle and quickly duck away to wipe his hand across his nose.]

...I'mma mess. Sorry 'bout that. I just, ah...heh. [Clayton chuckles and looks away in a desperate bid not to cry.] ...I remember! All four days. Still missin' the day after, 'fore I woke up by the west wall, but I was probl'y knocked out. Makes sense. If this's like the other symptoms folks're showin' after wakin' up, then good news is, it might not be permanent. So there's that.

[This infodump makes for a convenient lead-up to the sappy bullshit. Clayton looks away again, bites his lip, and prepares to switch tracks.]

That ain't...quite what I wanted to talk about, though. [He turns back and his smile wavers.] I was watchin' my, uh...my video I made. It'd odd, you know? Lookin' at it the day I woke up, it didn't really hit me 'bout just what y'all were doin'. Must've been 'least half'a us brought here--some ain't even with us anymore--come show up ta humor a dyin' man so he don't have'ta go alone--hot damn--

[Clayton's hand snaps up to cover the lower half of his face. He sits there, taking deep breaths, anxiously shifting position on his knuckles and furiously telling himself not to sob for a tense minute. Eventually he recovers enough to continue.]

...It don't hit quite so hard when you don't remember bein' there, see? [another nervous chuckle] Point is...we only known each other fer 'bout two weeks now, and whoever brought us here's tryin' their darnedest to keep us alone, but...ain't never felt more blessed to be workin' with a buncha folks I ain't never met in my whole life. [loud sniff, he's not even bothering to try and hide it anymore] With this bunch, we ain't gonna be stuck here forever. I know we ain't. All y'all stuck with me an' I'll stick with y'all, ain't no question. 'Bout the best way I can think to thank ya, 'sides from just sayin' it, so...

[This has suddenly gotten very awkward.]

...Thanks.

[Yup, he's done. Clayton flashes one last smile and the video ends.]

Comments

voice

[genreblindness]

And you, uh. You think it was trauma-based? Not, like, a side-effect of dying or anything?

[The 'or anything' part meaning creepy tall guys or other paranormal weirdos, of course.]

[dr_unconscious]

[Clayton by this point has decided that this fellow is very good at not saying things unless they are directly inquired about. He's starting to notice the subtle gestures--asking a lot of questions but not expounding on them, giving short responses in turn. It's becoming a little bit of a game, trying to figure out how to get him to work.]

[Well, for Clayton anyways. Jay probably won't think this is very fun.]

I'm thinkin' it ain't traditional amnesia at all, 's what I'm thinkin'. [Long pause, as he considers ways to turn the conversation back around.] What're you thinkin' it was, bud?

[genreblindness]

[Fortunately for Clayton, Jay is not especially good at not saying things when he's given direct questions. He might be practiced in the art of dishonesty, but it will never come to him naturally.]

That's, uh, that's a good question. I mean, it... you know, it could've been whatever brought us here.

[dr_unconscious]

[That is the sound of someone who is on the defensive. Clayton continues to press.]

Oh? That's a thought. [He mentally notes: "whatever" instead of "whoever." Like Jay doesn't think it's human or something.] Some kinda entity, you thinkin'?

[genreblindness]

...Maybe. Like, it could be aliens or demons or whatever. It's, it's not like I'd know, right?

[That's not entirely untrue, at least. Even after all these years, he still has no idea what the tall thing actually is.]

[dr_unconscious]

[There's a bit of a pause--just long enough to let Jay stew in his answer and his choices.]

I dunno--you tell me.

[genreblindness]

[He remains quiet for a moment, debating whether to talk about this or not.]

There was... this thing back home. It, uh. Kind of stalked me and a couple of other people. And I'm pretty sure it's responsible for us being here.

[dr_unconscious]

[Now we're getting somewhere! It's probably for the best that Jay can't see the relieved, maybe a little triumphant smile splitting Clayton's face right now.]

No kiddin'. What kinda thing 're we talkin' about?

[genreblindness]

I told you, I don't know what it is. Kinda looks like a really tall guy in a suit, but, uh. It's definitely not human.

[dr_unconscious]

[That's more than Jay was willing to give him a minute ago, so Clayton counts this as a win.]

...I see.

[...a really horrifying win. As soon as people start calling human-like entities "not human," there is a problem. A Shade, maybe? Hard to say with so little information.]

What makes ya think it's responsible?

[genreblindness]

[Jay clears his throat in a little cough. Talking about the thing so directly feels so uncomfortable, like he's going to draw its attention somehow.]

Because it's been responsible every time I've woken up in a weird place with no memory of how I got there. And all this stuff- the, the distortions on the network, and the paranoia and the hallucinations? It's all just like what I've seen it cause before.

[dr_unconscious]

[Clayton is silent for a significant amount of time.]

...Why you, though? [Wait, that came out weird.] --I mean, if it is this thing yer talkin' 'bout, and it's grabbed all a us, but we ain't had no time with it...why? What's it lookin' for that we got?

[genreblindness]

[He sighs.]

I don't know. But, I mean, maybe you've run into it before and just don't remember.

[dr_unconscious]

[...Now there's an alarming thought. Jay's just full of these little, terrifying revelations, isn't he?]

And you do. That's gotta stand for somethin'.

[genreblindness]

[Little, terrifying revelations are basically Jay's life story.]

I've seen it on film. I, uh- don't remember most of the times I ran into it in person.

[dr_unconscious]

[That only gets worse the more relevant these answers start becoming. Only remembers it through recordings, eh? Just like Clayton could only remember his time in Norfinbury through what he saw from his own previous posts?]

[Well. It's a good thing Jay can't see how concerned Clayton looks, although maybe he doesn't need to see it when Clayton falters and fails to answer for so long.]

...I gotcha. [He really doesn't want to, but he gets it alright.] You know, you could a said all that t' begin with.

[genreblindness]

[He could have. If he wasn't a cagey paranoid asshole.]

Chances are that the more you know about it, the more likely you are to catch its interest. Watching those tapes is what got me into this mess in the first place.

[dr_unconscious]

[Clayton huffs suddenly in mild amusement.]

Well if it's what's brought us all here, I sure already did somethin' t' make it unhappy with me.

[genreblindness]

Or you just had bad enough luck to hang out with someone else who did. From what I can tell, it's not exactly picky about who it goes after.

[dr_unconscious]

Point stands--ain't nothin' I can do t' shake it now, right? [There's a pause as Clayton shrugs, and a small noise of his hands falling down to his sides at the end of it.] Ain't gonna worry 'bout steppin' on no eggshells if they're already broken, ya get me? Only thing left is t' walk to the other side.