[log] Event: Howl [open]

[snowblindmods]

Characters: everyone
Location: The sort of location M.C. Escher wishes he'd thought up.
Date: nights 211 & 212
Summary: I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow'd ground
Warnings: potential for violence, death, and psychological horror; please note in subject lines if any specific warnings come up!

like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
I want to find you tear out all your tenderness

Comments

[devoutish]

We help each other, and we don't hurt either other. That's all; that's it.

[He keeps his fingers on her arm.]

All right?

[ecks]

[She keeps her chin lowered for a moment, still in that defensive posture. Then her head dips and rises in a nod and she starts to unfold herself, reaching up to find his hand with one of her own.]

All right, mate.

[devoutish]

Good. Very good. Here, let's stand; come on.

[He'll bring her up into a standing position, if she lets him.]

Can you see any of them?

[ecks]

[For all her awkwardness of personality, Ecks is usually fairly graceful when she moves. Not so now; she grips his hand too hard, feels her way to her feet with uncharacteristic caution. She doesn't like this at all.]

I do not see any of the cultists.

[That's what he meant by 'them,' right? They're the greatest danger here, the things that make her skin crawl to think of them.]

[devoutish]

The monsters, Ecks. They're the things I can't see.

[He puts another hand on her arm, moving closer to support her better.]

All right?

[ecks]

[Alfie Solomons is not to be trusted, but Ecks freely gives him her arm, pressing close to him as she looks around, her unfocused eyes wide.]

All right.

[She turns, staring right through him for a moment as she scans the area. She stops as a dark blot enters her field of vision, staring in a seemingly random direction for several seconds.]

I think that I see one, but it is far away.

[devoutish]

[He lets her, shuffling forward with her slowly so that she won't stumble.]

Right. We're gonna get a bit closer to it, and you tell me what it looks like.

[There's a wall up ahead that they can walk along, and use for cover. Down aways, he thinks he spots a doorway, but it's hard to tell for sure - the floor isn't flat, instead rising and falling in both gentle slopes and sharp angles. It might actually be a window.]

Step carefully. Don't let go of me.

[ecks]

Acknowledged.

[She is already stepping carefully, and she does not want to let go of him. These are easy orders. She squints through the wall, a little confused.]

It is a man, but I think it is not a man. Its face is not right. Its skin is not right.

[It's too far to make out clearly, yet, but she can see already that it is not right.]