snowblindrpg | [log] Escalation of aggression [closed]

[As soon as he'd taken one look outside and realised what was happening, Beckett had retreated back into the firestation. He has had quite enough of that, thank you very much.

Norfinbury throws illusions and delusions at them on a depressingly regular basis, and he remembers every instance in detail. They unnerve him much more than he'd like to think they should, but of course he's had to learn to adjust his own expectations of himself. Every time reality breaks around him, there's the fear - the hope - the open, gaping question. Was any of it real? Or is he still slumbering somewhere in the world he knows, dreaming that he's cheated the end?

No matter how much better his balance is, his newly, carefully reassembled self-control, he can't go wandering out there when both inside and outside are in such precarious state. He stays in, spends the day organising notes, which is a profoundly soothing activity no matter the contents of those notes. It's only once in a while that he gets up and goes to the door to look into the white distance; the distance spells a kind of seduction.

At evening time, only a little before lockdown, his curiosity overwhelmed him and he ventures out. A walk around the building, nothing more, hand to the wall to guide his steps. He is in control. Even when the wall he's following sprouts a hand that reaches for him - like in the dream, like in the sea - he is in control.

He finishes the round and stands in the doorway, still compelled by the emptiness outside. Iron gray sky, hazy snow, falling darkness. Somewhere in the distance, a figure, growing closer; but he doesn't register it as real. He closes his eyes to it and breathes the cold in, speaking mostly to himself when he does.]

Whatever you are, go away.

[ It had started out like any other morning. Shadows of people certainly hadn't been any stranger to him. If anything, it was just the normalcy of Norfinbury by now. For... as normal as one could call it anyway. The cold's worse. It bites into him unlike the previous day and that's saying something. Enough to make it a fight to keep even minute shivers under his control. While he's gathered a more reasonable amount of layers since waking up there over four months ago, it barely seems enough.

But there's something more that day. Something even more off and worse. And a part of him gets this sinking feeling that maybe that ought to have waited it out. Maybe they ought to have stayed where they were, but group consensus had decided to push forward, so forward it was. It's not the first time they had dealt with that odd creeping feeling before. The screaming had been far worse, he tells himself. The screaming and the ice berg. It doesn't change the way he holds the grip of his knife tight at any sign of a clawed hand outstretched to him out of the corner of his eye. Of any blink of flaring black wings unfurling or a lonely feather dancing in the wind. But every time he looks, it's nothing but a shimmer of what almost appears to be the sun against the snow. Another trick.

So, he keeps himself busy. Or tries to. He has their backs. He won't let anything happen to them. Not on his watch. He tells himself that again and again. He strikes up conversation when he can, lost in the blur of voices talking about everything and nothing. Repeated conversations for the sake of conversations. The same old concerns and jokes and discussion just to make the underlying unease a bit more bearable- and it is at first. Everything feels relatively calm. They're making progress as far as he's concerned. They ought to make it there fine-

-until he actually allows himself to really think and realizes that the current conversation he's having is a conversation he had months ago and he's having it with someone who shouldn't even be. Because Tadashi died three months ago. And his brother, nearly a month after that. Lancer was gone shortly after he started traveling with Kunsel and the Cloud who had finally awoken from his coma stupor vanished in the snow and not long after Hiro... He shakes his head fiercely, his vision seeming to finally clear and-

Gone.

They're all gone. Zack glances around fervently, shouting out their names loud and clear but to no avail. He curses under his breath. How could he be so stupid? But it's Norfinbury, after all. And it's getting late. If he doesn't manage to get to shelter, he's going to have a lot more to worry about than where those three are. Find a safe space. Contact them immediately. That's the plan.

And it's one he's set to follow through with as he hurriedly picks up the pace. He rushes through the haze of shimmering snow as swiftly as he possibly can, keeping an eye both out for anomalies and the time. His tablet's already flashing in warning. He's really tempting fate and he knows it. He might be stuck out in the-

No, don't even think about it, Fair. Move.

It's by luck that he sees the looming structure before him, big enough for him to easily recognize as the fire station. But by the tablet's light, he can see something lingering in front of its door, too. An anomaly? No, it would already be rushing for him. He's pretty sure he heard it say something, too. Anomalies rarely speak. And when they do, well. He shudders at the thought.

So, he approaches cautiously, hand back on the grip of his knife and... coming no where close to releasing it as the light finally glances off the features of one of his least favorite people in this world. ]

Great. It's you.

Edited (edited on the grounds of HOLY SHIT I'M SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS GOT;;;) 2016-08-25 04:48 (UTC)

Bloody hell. [Beckett says it practically in tandem with Zack.] It's you.

[Even as he says it, he's drawing back, registering too late that the other man is real and no illusion. This is remarkably bad. His instinct is to go right back in and slam the door shut; he doesn't so the latter, but he's retreating into the building before he can think about it. Before he can do something else. There is another instinct bursting up in him, like a tidal wave crashing against the defences that reason and restraint place in its path. He has to outpace it.

Under other circumstances, he might have resented the idea that Zack might think he's running from him, rather than from his own reaction. He's not frightened of the man and Zack had better not imagine otherwise. But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what he thinks about Zack or what their dispute is. This is for his own sake, his own demands of himself, and for that he will do whatever he needs to. Retreat as far as he needs to. If there is such a thing as far enough. He can't smell anything now, so perhaps out of sight of his potential prey would suffice to keep the urge at bay. As long as Zack cooperates, that stubborn senseless fool...]

Stay back. [He'd left the door open, and he keeps his eyes on it as he retreats further in, to see what Zack would do before he turns around and tries for one of the rooms, perhaps. Perhaps Zack won't do anything stupid. What are the odds...] You know I'm dangerous.

[ Oh, he's heard the stories. He's seen the warning and if that wasn't enough, the aftermath of Charles and Charlie told him as much the story. He doesn't raise his hand from his knife though he doesn't draw it either. But nor does he seem to heed that warning either as Beckett draws into the fire station. If anything, something about it makes him boil. ]

To some, yeah. You made that pretty damn clear after what you did to those two. How many more people are you gonna hurt, huh?

[ The rational part of him would be arguing that it's not like he has a choice in this. His tablet's already begun to flash. He's been following what he thought were his friends in a wild goose chase. There's no other building he knows close enough nearby. He'd freeze to death before he'd ever find shelter elsewhere.

But somehow that argument's lost in the sheer heat of his detesting words. It has him clutching the grip of his butcher knife tighter as he slips into the fire station. He closes the door behind him, keeping his tablet held up so he can see. ] Well, Beckett?

[It's like Zack insists on being the voice of temptation. Not of his conscience - he already has that, loud and clear, otherwise the man would be slammed against a wall with fangs at his throat already. Who gave him the bright idea that throwing a hungry, struggling Cainite's failures in his face like a red rag would somehow make ihm less likely to attack?

If Zack is baiting him then he only has himself to blame... no, no.]

I'd say that's up to you. [It's half a plea and half a snarl. He keeps moving back, but there is only so far back to move. He's very aware of Zack's knife, the hunter in him aware of everything about the other man. Assessing. A red shadow behind his eyes that makes them dart up and down, looking Zack over for weakness, lingering on the line of his throat.] Not that I don't enjoy the thought of hurting you specifically, but it'd be terribly awkward explaining it to Kunsel. Stay back. You can obey monosyllabic instructions, can't you?

[Or is he baiting Zack, himself? By the time he considers it might be so, it's already too late to take the words back.]

If you think just because I'm some SOLDIER I just fell in line and never thought a second for myself, you're wrong! Don't pretend like you know me! You don't know anything about me!

[ Always dismissive. Always looking down the brow of his nose or upturning it at every chance whenever they talk. Always so fast to assume he's an idiot, that he does nothing more than pity and hold onto useless things. Where Beckett finds the respect for Zell and Kunsel is the only place where their opinions seem to intersect, otherwise, it's always like this with them. Always like this only now it's worse because it's just the two of them and if there's anything Zack did know, it was that had they ever met under these kind of circumstances, he wasn't sure how well he would be able to keep his composure.

And Beckett sure as hell's pushing that envelope to something he more or less expecting only worse. Worse because now he's a danger. It's that alone that makes him take one more solid step. A point to make. He's far from afraid of him. He's far from backing down and just taking whatever Beckett has to say. And he's tired of it. So damn tired of him and his air of superiority that could only be thwarted by Genesis, himself, but this is much more. This is a direct shot at him- has always been. And now it's just hypocritical, enough for Zack to growl out suddenly: ]

And especially don't talk to me like you're better than me when I'm not the one going around attacking people like some-!

[ He cuts himself off, cursing under his breath. ]

Day 148/evening/FAITO

LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE. https://youtu.be/nendMLrpI-s

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Day 149/morning/for Brian and Jade

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Day 150 | Police station | Vampire sciencing, ho--!

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Day 150 | Corpse Party

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assuming this happens after thread with jade, that good?

NP!

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