[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]

Yes. Sit.

[The last thing he wants is Rhys to fall now - especially when he isn't sure whether he'd be tumbling down or up. Can you tumble up?

They'd better not find out.]

Just sit down and stop wiggling, yeah?

[headjacked]

[ Rhys sits immediately and stops with the wiggles. The step, however, is uneven and slopes downwards. Half a buttcheek is without firm support -- hence, the return of the stability dance. He feels for more stable ground and scoots to safety, heart a-pounding. ]

Sorrysorrysorry, I - I'm good now. Goodish.

[devoutish]

Mm. I'll walk with you. I'll help.

[He's nearly to Rhys now, and he holds out a hand.]

Can you see me?

[headjacked]

If by you, you mean a blue blob where I'm assuming you're standing, then yeah.

[ His shaking, uneasy tone betrays how he's feeling. Rhys clumsily reaches out, pawing the air for a second or two before grabbing Alfie's wrist. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie slides his hand into Rhys's, moving to pull him up.]

Do you see anything around us?

[headjacked]

I see a whole lot of nothing, except the lig-- wh.... -wh. Waitasecond.

[ Rhys shudders and steps back, squeezing Alfie's hand on reflex. ]

There's a shape, it's, uhhm. Not that far. More distinct than anything else I can make out.

[devoutish]

[Alfie doesn't pull away at the squeeze. He knows he won't be able to see anything, but he still turns, peering in the direction that Rhys is staring. There's a lot of empty space in that direction. Whatever Rhys is looking at might be behind the far wall - but it also might not, and it's really worrying that they can't tell.]

Size? What direction is it headed in?

[headjacked]

Not tall, but wide, it - it's vaguely --

[ An eye of stained glass, with organic components pieced throughout, punctured by the sharp, inorganic bits.

Rhys feels the sudden urge to stress-ralph. But there's no time, because ]

-- it's coming right for us - !

[ On skittering, glassy, cable-like 'legs'; it moves faster than any anomaly Rhys has encountered thus far. He yelps and shoves Alfie + himself to the side just as it closes the gap and lunges. ]