[log] Event: Breaking Down [open]

[snowblindmods]

Characters: anyone pulled into the Escherverse
Location: Escherverse
Date: Morning 220 - Night 221
Summary: All alone/Even when I was a child/I've always known/There was something to be frightened of
Warnings: general horror, violence warnings; make sure to put more specific warnings in the subject lines!

Comments

[bywolves]

[ Before anything, anybody in the general vicinity of the anomaly that was Royce will feel the creeping, awful dread rise up in their throats. It curls cold and desolate around the spine and digs deep into their hearts, making it hard to breathe, hard to run. When they turn, when they go to look, all they see at first is a cloak. It's ragged and torn, and it moves unnaturally, jerky, dragging across the floor like a person might.

But there's nothing in the cloak. It's just too much fabric, void-black and making almost rusty sounds as it jitters unnaturally through the escherverse. Like knives dragging against an old metal wall, complete with horrific gurgling sounds, a death rattle of a wheezing breath, in and out, painful.

And when it gets close to someone, the hood of the cloak looks up, and there's nothing, no light, because it was stolen from him. Something took it and it wants the light back. All that's left is a gasping maw, filled all the way to the back of its throat with jagged rows of rusty, metal knife-like teeth. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie would know that cloak anywhere, and it stops him in his tracks. He's been looking for Royce in this mess of a place, walking up walls and down upside-down staircases, but he didn't want to find him like this. The only thing that stops him from turning around and trying to get away immediately is his earlier run-in with Stephen. He'd been normal-ish, despite his appearance - he'd been able to communicate and recognize people. So instead of running, Alfie approaches.]

Royce.

[bywolves]

Stay back.

[ No. No, he recognizes that voice, he knows who it is, and he doesn't look. If he looks, he'll see that light, and he wants it. He's lucid enough right now that he doesn't want to hurt Alfie and he knows he will. His voice comes out harsh and angry, grizzled and wheezing. Two voices in one, his own and one that's lower and distorted, like hearing him through a crackling connection. ]

Don't, don't, don't. [ Royce chants, skittering unnaturally up the wall. ]

[devoutish]

All right.

[Fucking hell. But he does stop walking towards Royce.]

Tell me what's wrong.

[He keeps his head down, because he doesn't much like the light being visible either, but it can be seen behind his teeth when he talks.]

[bywolves]

[ He lets out an agonized sound - the light flashes behind Alfie's teeth, reflects off the walls and in his line of vision, but he doesn't have eyes to close. ]

Light was. Stolen. [ Royce manages. He climbs up a bit further, leaving a fair amount of rust behind him. ] Want yours.

[devoutish]

[Great. Alfie moves a hand up to cover his mouth.]

We'll walk away from each other, then.

[As much as he doesn't want to, something in him tells him that he needs to protect his light. They can find each other later, when this all blows over.]

[bywolves]

[ No. No, that won't do. He can feel the urge getting stronger and he knows he's losing his control, he's losing himself. Walk away? No, Royce can't just let that happen. The cloak on the wall freezes in place. ]

Alfie --

[ He tries, he does. He really does. But the monster in him has always been stronger. ]

Run. [ And that's all he can manage before he loses his lucidity completely. Royce isn't there, now - it's an anomaly, and the sound it lets out is only just barely familiar as Royce, a scream that's more like the sound of grinding metal on metal as the cloak launches itself from the wall in Alfie's direction. ]

[devoutish]

[And Alfie tries to run. He really does. He has his cane, and he uses it to hurry away in a half-run, ignoring the sharp pain of protest in his ribs. He knows he doesn't have much chance - Royce is much more limber than him, with a younger body. But he's not going to just give up.]

[jumpthegun]

[John sees the light and he's been following the scent and sight of it for a little while now. When he sees the cloak going for Alfie, though, his own desire for the light is subsumed by the desire to protect, defend! Alfie is an ally. His light is sacred. For the moment, anyway.

He howls and bounds forward on three legs, moving at a decent clip to intercept the cloak; although, it may well look like he's going after Alfie, himself. When the giant black dog gets in range, he leaps at Royce, jaws gaping, ready to tear into and through the fabric if he gets ahold of it.]

[howdull]

[Sherlock is barely himself any longer.

He's shorter than he is usually, slighter too, and dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. His head, however, is a mess. An unhinged jaw that makes a loud cracking noise with each breath that sounds almost like a gunshot, and the back of his head completely blown off with brain matter and blood soaking down his collar.

He moves slowly, jerkily, and when he raises his hands there's only guns in their place. He's trying to hold onto his sense of self, but it's difficult when he hears the knives coming.]

You're nothing that can help me.

[Another one like him, missing light.]

[bywolves]

[ That sure is a gun. Royce only barely recognizes what that is - he doesn't have them back on his world, and Alfie's only described them to him. The cloak hisses from the ceiling, extending a shadowy claw out to swipe, almost cat-like, in Sherlock's direction. ]

Just as useless to me. [ Royce growls, the end of his cloak snapping angrily. ] The lights are mine.

[howdull]

[Sherlock watches the cloak swipe out towards him, but he only steps backwards instead of retaliating, his eyes fixed on Royce in annoyance.]

Wrong.

[He still manages to sound arrogant even through a distended jaw.]

They were stolen from me, and I'll be getting them back.

[bywolves]

[ Royce is going to reply, but he gets distracted. He pauses, looking up to try and figure out where the sound he's hearing came from - like someone trying to run away.

The cloak jitters and then takes off, running off down the weird twisted hallway like it has eyes on someone's light. As it passes overhead, it hisses idiot down in Sherlock's direction before continuing. ]

[howdull]

[Sherlock doesn't hear anything approaching, but he's more than observant enough to assume that Royce has. Anger floods him, he's not about to let this creature steal what's rightfully his.

One of his hands raises and three bullets fire directly towards the shadow that is Royce, the bangs loud in the still air.]

[bywolves]

[ The hell was that - the cloak skitters off to the side to avoid the bullets, but only just barely manages it. It lets out this angry sort of shrieking sound and then hisses again, trying to assess the damage. There's not much to hit, because he honestly is just a piece of fabric, but there's a definite hole, and there's a definite decent amount of black sludge that drips from that hole in his cloak.

Royce throws himself down from the ceiling - he goes right at Sherlock's face, with the attempt to wrap his cloak body around it to either suffocate or at the very least, injure him with all the invisible knives under the cloak. His angle's off, though, from the bullet wound, and he's annoyed to know that it still hurts. ]

[howdull]

[Instead of his face, the cloak comes to rest on his shoulder and it feels like the skin is being shredded underneath from those invisible knives. He yelps in pain, the noise sounding like a strange double echo of two voices in one.]

You shouldn't have done that, my pretty one.

[It's Moriarty's voice, no Sherlock's, as he raises his free hand to fire again directly at Royce.]

[bywolves]

[ He fires, and it hits - it's almost impossible to miss at this close of range. Royce lets out a shrieky sort of sound and jitters off of Sherlock, slides down his arm and side to try and do as much damage as he can before running. The further he gets away, the less likely it is that Sherlock will be able to hit him, right? Right.

But he still wants that light. It's getting away, and the black sort of sludge that drips from the bullet holes in his cloak body is slowing him down. ]

[tidalflame]

[Zidane lopes through the twisted corridors, paying no mind to the illogic of it all.

Memoria was like this... An impossible place.

Dwelling on the impossibility won't get him anywhere.

He dashes around a corner and stoops into a low crouch when he sees a cloaked figure lurching towards him.]

Yo, you a monster or not?

[bywolves]

[ Oh. Oh - someone with light.

The cloak goes completely still, distorting here and there unnaturally. There's distant, crackling static - and then the cloak moves, faster than one might think. The dread might sink in here, or at least, will flood around the area, and the cloak lifts its head to reveal that under that hood, there's a lamprey-like mouth full of rusted metal shivs, teeth all the way down. It lets out a screech and it echoes off the twisted corridors impossibly, from all angles.

The cloak heads right for Zidane, immediately giving chase. It sees that light behind Zidane's teeth and it wants it. ]

[tidalflame]

Man, are you ugly!

[Zidane leaps towards the wall and launches himself off, trying to parkour over the charging monster's head and land behind it.

His expression never falters from its smirk but he cannot keep the fear from his eyes or the fur on his tail from standing on end no matter how hard he tries.

This thing is fast and Zidane cannot reliably use the environment to his own advantage, not when just looking up gives him a headache.]

[bywolves]

[ The fear is what keeps the monster going. It sees it, and it sees the light, and it yowls angrily, trying to grab at Zidane's feet as he parkours over Royce's head. Zidane makes it, and if he runs, the cloak hisses and skitters after him, up the wall and to the ceiling to try and drop down and descend on Zidane. It wants that light. It needs it. ]

[tidalflame]

[Well, that kind of movement is unexpected.

Zidane watches the cloak skitter around madly like a giant insect.]

Aw, come on.

[He leaps backwards as it descends and lifts his fists.]

You were a person once, weren't you? Any of you still left in there? Hello!?

[bywolves]

[ There's a pause. The cloak jitters to a stop, rippling angrily. The hood comes up and it's filled with teeth - or knives, really, sharp shivs that fill it lamprey like. But it doesn't move. You were a person once, right? He was, he thinks, and it gives him pause. ]

[tidalflame]

[That hesitation gives him a faint glimmer of hope. He nods but still braces himself, ready to run.]

C'mon, fight it!

Maybe I can still help you!

[bywolves]

[ The monster kneads it's claws into the floor, shifting. He doesn't need help. Of course he doesn't. He just needs that light, and he's angry that he's been distracted. The cloak skitters closer, or at least, tries to - it swipes at Zidane, right for his face. ]