[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

SMH how dare u

[spoileralert]

[ Fuck, that laughter. It makes her think of Joker, but it doesn't really sound like him. She turns and runs as fast as she can in the opposite direction, along the wall. Of course, she comes to a staircase, and promptly trips and hits her face on the steps. ]

ok for real this time (reiterating the warnings)

[mrcreamsicles]

[Of course. Steph can't see the stairs, can she? All the warning Davesprite has is his continued cacophony as he closes in.]

[Maybe it's better for her in the end that she can't see him. Closing in, the reflection shown in his shades (pointed and angular as his Bro's) is dead and broken, her body bloody and pierced through with the sword skewering his chest. But his face is so happy to see her still, cheeks bearing a bright red circle, mouth frozen in a rictus grin save for the ventriloquist hinge that permits his laughter.]

[There's something wrong with his arms, though. They weave out from him toward her once he's near, curving as though boneless despite the hinge of his elbow. If Steph doesn't move, they lash out to tangle her, wrapping like ropes at her middle and shoulders, longer than they should be. And is it really him? It's not so clear, the feeling of his arms like skin in one moment and soft felt the next. Stuffing pokes from between the seams. Blood smears around stitches.]

[There are leather, fingerless gloves on his hand, and one wants most to snatch the light from her mouth. He needs it. He needs that most. Won't she give it to him?]

[spoileralert]

[ She tries to scramble away, but she's stunned and dizzy from faceplanting on the stairs. By the time she gets her arms to work properly he already has her, and she promptly loses consciousness. ]

[mrcreamsicles]

[All the easier for his soft, puppet fingers to pluck the light from her like fruit off a branch. But the thing is, once he has that—what did he want with her again? Anything? She looks simple and plain like this, of no more interest than a stranger on a crowded street, without even movement to draw the eye. His arms uncoil from her and he moves on without a second look, floating up the stairs, out of sight, and beyond.]