snowblindrpg | [log] Monster Madness [closed]

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[log] Monster Madness [closed]

Characters: Clayton Epps, Enoch, Alex Kralie and Tim Wright at various points
Location House 41 for days 17/18, house 50 for day 19
Date: Days 17-19, various times per prompt
Summary: Adventures in the event! First Clayton and Enoch are trapped in mystery paint shack until Alex wanders around (and then becomes trapped with them), then Clayton and Enoch meet up with Tim in house 50 where things start to get a little weirdly physical with the two of them that turned on their Beacons.
Warnings: Monsters? Fighting? Injury??

[A] Day 17, late afternoon - Meeting Alex

[It's been most of the day now since the monsters came.]

[Clayton was lucky enough to wake up early with the beacon flashing overhead, and even more lucky to step outside for a minute to investigate. He hadn't expected much. A new signal, perhaps? More unpleasant urgings to go find it? No, nothing of the sort. Instead, he saw the creatures.]

[Trying to communicate with them, despite being his first impulse, was not so useful as it has been in the past when dealing with Shades. Perhaps because he didn't share that connection with them on the astral plane anymore that they could sense--or perhaps because these aren't Shades. They would have Clayton fooled with how damned familiar they look. But still, an unreasonable Shade is a dangerous Shade, and Clayton might be trusting but he's no fool. Inside he went, with a quick warning to Enoch that they'll need to hunker down for a few hours, and a few canvases were propped under the door handle.]

[It's been more than a few hours now--long enough that Clayton wouldn't feel comfortable heading to a new destination anyways without risking being locked out--and he's just waiting for the monsters' claws to break through the door. He's got his back propped up against it for extra support in spite of this. If they make it in, then there's nowhere to run anyways. It's a silent admission to an inevitable fate, while still looking convincingly collected and proactive in an otherwise very dangerous situation. Clayton can only hope that he's putting on a good enough show for Enoch. Either one of them panicking at a time like this could spell death. Well, a faster death. Both work.]

[In any case, Clayton figures that they're going to be like this for a while longer yet. Surely nothing will break the monotonous scratching at the door. These walls are thin, but if they hear anything else outside save the monsters, it'll be next to a miracle. Or a bloodbath. But it's best to think in positives.]

[B] Day 19, after lockout - Things Rapidly Deteriorate

[Clayton hasn't been feeling so great lately. What relief he had at noticing that the monsters left is tempered by a pounding migraine, and by the time he and Enoch make it to the large house at the crest of the wall, he's so miserable that he can barely speak. Is that why he's not speaking so much? It's getting hard to tell. Clayton hasn't tried to, lately, but he knows the idea repulses him and he doesn't particularly want to find out why. Actually what he would prefer doing is just curling up against a wall for a while until this headache goes away. Or a dark corner. Or under this really neat bed, since his legs have stopped working right for some reason. Clayton has stopped trying to figure that one out, too.]

[By the time Tim finally finds the house, Clayton is indisposed and unable to answer the door. Hopefully Enoch can sort him out once he arrives.]

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[Alex has been doing pretty okay these past few days -- or as okay as anyone can be during all this. He never touched the beacon app on his tablet. He'd watched the network, seen the strange shadow creatures so many others ran into, but with a healthy dose of luck and his own natural paranoia, he'd been able to avoid the worst of the horde so far.

*~*UNTIL NOW*~*

It's probably smarter to barricade himself in one house and try to wait it out, but he's starting to run lower on supplies then he'd like. So he keeps moving every day, picking through abandoned buildings, slowly circling around the school until he won't be able to put off visiting it anymore. There's a curious scratching noise coming from further back in one of the places he's in now; he can certainly guess what it is, but the stupid part of his brain insists on knowing for sure.

He's not at all surprised to find a group of shadow creatures clawing at a door. What does surprise him is the sudden realization that they're moving with intent. They want to get in, which means -- there might be someone inside?

He knows he should just turn around. Walk away. Getting involved here would be suicidal. He doesn't need to take risks for anyone else.

He knocks on the wall anyway, a quick shave and a haircut, trying to keep it quiet as he can so as not to alert the monsters. If nobody answers, well then. He can walk away with a clear conscience.]

[It's interesting that Clayton is seeing things he could communicate with. While Enoch does see vaguely humanoid shapes he also sees the twisted, too-slim hands of small demons, or churning spikes of Belial's children...

There is no communicating with either of those.

If there was space for two people with broad shoulders at the door he would be right there beside him, holding the door shut. As it is, though, sitting where they could get in each other's way if they need to move quickly wouldn't work very well. He's been keeping watch of the situation on the network, more or less, feeling quite useless, when suddenly there's a sound on the other side of the wall beside him. A deliberate pattern, too, even if he doesn't recognize it. A person.]

...Is someone there? [He can't raise his voice to be heard through the wall, though, he's used it more than he should already. So he raps out the same pattern back - inadvertently revealing he doesn't know how it ends, but definitely showing there's someone inside.]

[Clayton immediately snaps to attention. That's someone outside. That's someone outside! Oh god, with the Shades! They're in so much trouble! The only thing that keeps Clayton from immediately tearing out those canvases and running outside to drag him into the room is the fact that he can still hear the monsters clawing at the door, which means that they haven't noticed him yet. This same fact keeps Clayton's back glued to the door. He can't investigate, and can't speak, for fear that the Shades might be just aware enough to parse his warnings and discover that something is amiss. They have to keep things quiet.]

[That said, Enoch's first attempts at speaking put Clayton immediately on-edge, and not just because he doesn't want the other fellow straining his voice. Clayton mouths "NOs" and makes accompanying frantic gestures at him to quiet down, though he seems to calm considerably once Enoch knocks back and it appears that the monsters are still none the wiser. It could be that there's not actually anyone there at all. He waits, tensed, for a reply from the outside.]

[Alex hears the returned knock and immediately thinks, well, shit. There's someone in there.

He could still just walk away -- and there's a very loud part of him that insists that he should -- but he makes himself stop and think for a moment. Even if he backed off, where would he go? There's only a few hours left in the day; he'd be cutting it uncomfortably close to lockdown even if he turned around and headed straight back to where he stayed the night before. If he runs into any trouble or gets slowed down even a little, he most likely won't make it.

From a moral standpoint, he'd be a massive dick if he just abandoned them.
From a practical standpoint, he needs to get inside.

Alex sighs tiredly and runs his hands down his face. What is his life now. Why this.

Knocking was a good way to get someone's attention, but it's not going to cut it for further communication. He doesn't want to risk talking through the wall, in case that alerts the shadow creatures. He pulls out his tablet and hopes the person inside is going to check the network sometime soon, because he has no idea who he'd be private messaging.]

@AK
To the person trapped in the house south of the school:
My name is Alex. I'm right outside your door.
There's a lot of shadow things here, but I need to get inside for tonight.
Got any ideas?

[Chances are he's going to have to draw them away from the door somehow, but if there any other ways leading inside, he'd much rather take that than the plan that might get himself killed.]

[Oh...that's not good at all. Were there any houses near here? In his shaken, sleep-deprived state, he can't think of anything close enough.]

@Enoch
I don't know. They seem quite intent on getting inside. If they're after anyone at all, perhaps they'll respond to a decoy of some sort, allowing you to get inside?

[He motions to Clayton, half crawling, half scooting his way to the man to show him the conversation on the tablet. If they're going to let Alex in, they'll have to unblock the door momentarily. And maybe he'll have better plans.]

[Well, that's the direct way to go about it. Clayton is too nervous to move away from the door, and with their current precarious situation is too preoccupied to check the network, but he's definitely interested in what Enoch wants to show him and is more than willing to get out his own tablet and reply once he realizes what's going on here. Because Clayton can't think of anything nearby, either--nothing that they could run to before the doors lock, which would spell death between the cold and the monsters. At least with him and Enoch here, he has a chance. A small, incredibly risky chance that could end up killing all of them, but a chance nevertheless. Clayton is willing to take it.]

@claytonator
They might be after me specifically, since I think they saw me before they started banging on the door, but it's possible that they're not picky. Do you think you could safely try and get their attention? If you can lead them away from the door, we should have enough time to keep the door open for you and lock them out.

[Alex opens up his supply bag and starts digging through all the stupid junk he's found up along the way, trying to see if he has anything that might serve as a decoy. It's not much -- wow, when did he pick up an umbrella? -- but the bare bone beginnings of a plan are starting to form.

Making a lot of noise would probably work. It would be terribly, stupidly dangerous, but if it distracts them away from the door for a bit, he might be able to make it.]

@AK
All right. I'm going to try in about a minute, so.
Let's see how this goes.
Get ready to open when you hear a lot of panicked yelling and banging on the door.

[The frying pan is small, but it's the heaviest thing he has. He heads into a side room along one of the house's ruined hallways and takes a deep breath. This is the dumbest idea he's ever had, and he's sure he could probably come up with a better one, but right now he's pressed for time. He counts down the seconds in his head and then chucks the pan as hard and as far down the hallway as he can.

He immediately closes the door and flattens himself against the wall as the shadow things chase after the raucous clanging on the ground. They pass by horribly close to him -- for several horrible moments, intense nausea follows in their wake and drops in his stomach, and blackness starts to static in at the edges of his vision. He counts out a heart beat of time, then another, then cracks the door open and peers out. Luckily, none of the creatures are in sight, but that won't last long.

He creeps out and goes back the way they came, and knocks frantically at the door. They've probably already figured out there's no one there.]

Hey, I'm out here.

[jesus christ please open up please open up oh fuck this was the stupidest plan]

[The moment there's knocking - solid, human knuckles and not monster claws, Enoch reaches for the canvas wedged between Clayton and the door, not waiting for him to move any before trying to pull them aside despite the considerable weight pinning them.

Don't worry, we're here, he wants to call, but he only opens his mouth to start before he remembers he physically can't and closes it.]

[Enoch won't have to do much work to get those canvases out of the way, as Clayton is already up and has his hand on the doorknob as soon as he hears the monsters leave and feels what's become unpleasantly familiar nausea lift. Alex's frantic knocking produces an immediate response--the door is wrenched backwards, probably breaking the canvases if Enoch hadn't removed them, Clayton reaches out to grab Alex by the collar of his coat and haul him inside. The gesture is a bit forward and perhaps violent, but necessary, he thinks, given the immediacy of the situation. Better a little startled and bruised than dead.]

[As his hands are currently full, Clayton relies on Enoch to close and secure the door behind them. There's some frantic urging under his breath in case Alex hesitates or struggles, and regardless of how they end up inside, his hands promptly go for Alex's shoulders so he can hold him steady and get a good, long look at him.]

Hey! Hey. Are you alright? Hurt? Anybody else out there?

[ To say that Tim hasn't been feeling great either is an understatement. What with Jay dying, a lack of sleep and a headache, it's frankly a miracle that he's found the energy to make his way to the meeting point at all. He's a complete mess right now - disheveled and haunted-looking, with his legs threatening to give way at any moment.

He has to keep going, though. Clayton has his meds (HIS meds, with his name on them, what the hell), and not even feeling like complete and utter ass is going to stop him from getting to them. By the time he reaches the house and hammers on the door as loudly as he can, he's on his knees and breathing heavily as his head threatens to split apart.

Whatever - he can worry about not making a good impression on people later. Right now, he's more concerned about the fact that the last time he had a headache this bad, the thing showed up. He's pretty sure he couldn't cope with that again right now, especially without taking his pills first. ]

[Enoch has a headache from that flashing light outside, and is on his third (or is it fourth?) day of no sleep at all, and by all rights should just pass out, but seems to be running, for now, on pure adrenaline. But at least he's not like Clayton, who seems to have trouble standing. To say this worries him is a massive understatement.

When he hears the knocking, it takes him a moment, dragging him out of a trance that could have been a prelude to sleep, but eventually he comes to the door, and the moment he sees the state Tim's in, he reaches out for his arm to help him up, to try to bring him inside.]

Are you all right? Let me help you... [His voice is still strained, croaky from healing misuse and slurred from sleeplessness, so there is little telling how well he'll be understood. But reaching for someone without a word isn't exactly wise.]

[Tim's meds are, unfortunately, still with Clayton. This would be fine if Clayton wasn't currently going fucking insane.]

[Instead he watches from the entry to the living room, peering around the corner of the wall with wide, suspicious eyes. As soon as either Tim or Enoch makes any sudden moves or gets too close, he'll immediately scamper away from them and make a break for the stairs. The noise was only interesting enough to investigate, not get involved in.]

[ Tim takes Enoch's offered arm, though his legs are still stubbornly refusing to bear his weight. Instead of walking, he's forced to adopt a weird hobbling half-crawl as the other man helps him inside. Not his finest moment, to say the least.

As he notices Clayton, he's startled enough to let go of Enoch and drop to his knees once more. What the hell? ]

Whhh...?

[ His voice comes out cracked and warped, and he winces at the sound of it. Yeah, no more talking for him. Enoch gets a quizzical look before Tim's gaze drifts towards the top of the stairs.

It looks darker up there. Inviting, somehow. Probably just because of the heinous headache he's got, but still...

[The sound of Tim's voice makes Enoch tense immediately. It sounds too...well, demonic for his tastes, and with It having dragged the memory of torture at their hands (or...spikes, rather) into the forefront that horrible night, the sound has him immediately on edge.

He has enough presence of mind to recognize Tim's presence of mind, though, to remind himself everyone here is human. Something strange is going on, but these men should be helped, not feared.]

"Something's happening. I don't know what. He hasn't said a word, either."

Getting away from that flashing light seems like a very good idea. Darkness sounds good to his aching head even without the odd...effects Clayton and Tim are displaying. Seeing the other wants to go up there, too, he reaches down for his arm again, to help him up. Just because Clayton is crawling surprisingly quickly doesn't mean Tim will be able to do the same.

[For all of the difficulty he was having moving earlier, Clayton crawls now with unnerving ease and speed. He skitters his way up the stairs and down the hall with a singular purpose: his backpack. He stored it in the darkest, most secure location he could find, and a part of his mind is still conscious enough to remind him that something in his backpack is very important. Unfortunately everything else has been warped around it--that thing must be protected. He's saving it for something. If only his head didn't hurt so much, then maybe he could remember what for...]

[Clayton's goal is originally to just stand guard in front of the bed where he's stashed his backpack, but Enoch and Tim are taking a while to get there, and soon his thoughts wander to how inviting the darkness under the mattress is. By the time they're in sight of the open door to the bedroom, Clayton has wedged himself halfway underneath the bed frame. He's a big guy. He's obviously not going to fit. But damn, if he isn't trying his hardest.]

[ Since Tim till has some presence of mind, he gratefully allows Enoch to help him up the stairs in pursuit of Clayton. Everything is confusing and painful and he'd quite like it to stop now, thanks. The relative darkness upstairs does help a little, though - Tim feels right up here. Safer. Like he could just crawl into a corner and forget all the awful things that have been happening while the darkness swaddles him.

Then he spots Clayton and lets out another of those hideously distorted noises in his surprise. What the hell is the guy doing? He looks fucking ridiculous.

But

But it does look temptingly dark under there.

Tim wrenches his arm away from Enoch, dropping to all fours, and makes a very cautious movement towards the bed. He might not be openly aggressive right now, but his eyes don't leave Clayton for a second. ]

[The distorted noise at his side causes Enoch to jump this time, and he accidentally lets go of Tim as his first instinct is demon! move!

Just as well, since Tim is trying to get away from him as well.]

Clayton? What are you- [He watches Tim follow, taking a few wary steps after him.] Tim?

[What is going on?]

[The noise is what gives them away. Clayton doesn't turn to face them as they enter the room, but it's clear that they've been noticed; he freezes in place, halting his slow, persistent progress, and simply listens.]

[Enoch doesn't really make it too ambiguous about what's going on behind him. Clayton doesn't approve. Without moving to face him (mostly because that would be a little difficult in his current position), he lets out a low, rattling hissss of warning. It's the only one they're going to get.]

[ Hearing his name makes Tim turn back briefly, though it doesn't quite snap him out of whatever is happening. Then as Clayton hisses, his head snaps back unnaturally quickly towards the source of the sound.

Oh, yeah. Right. It's dark there. It's dark and he wants it and that guy is in his way.

He watches for a moment longer, muscles tensed and chin raised in a way that would set off alarm bells for anyone familiar with his masked counterpart, then darts towards the bed. Looks like he's a member of the 'crawling creepily fast' club too! Neat. ]

Edited 2015-08-06 18:03 (UTC)

[He may not know about the existence of Masky, but that's when it finally clicks to his tired, shaken brain: They're acting like animals.

Maybe he would have tried to reason with them more if he wasn't so exhausted. If the previous days hadn't worn him down already, he may have persisted in trying to get through to their sense of reason. But at that realization, the action his mind churns to is to treat them on those terms, and he's out with the hand of a man practiced in rearing animals (though most of them placid herbivores), reaching for Tim's shoulder.]

Stop that. [His voice is firm and authoritative, or as much as it can be, with healing laryngitis making it hoarse, and if he manages to grab Tim, his grip is solid.] Don't fight.

Edited (forgot a detail) 2015-08-08 03:28 (UTC)

[Clayton catches the sound of scuffling feet and harsh voices behind him, and this is all he needs to know that it's time to act. Reasoning on why or how have left him completely by now. Perhaps he is like an animal in that respect, functioning on pure instinct--which isn't great, because he's an almost-six-foot-tall very muscular animal that has no restraint.]

[There's a clatter as Clayton shoves the bedframe up with his back, violent enough to bruise his shoulders, but also allowing him enough space to free himself and spin around, face painted with a feral snarl. Then he's lunging for Tim. And maybe also Enoch. Depends on who gets in his way first, he's not picky.]

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[log] Monster Madness [closed]

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