snowblindrpg | [log] Event: Metamorphosis, Part Three

"Our minds are okay. That's important. Maybe the most important. We know we're kinda messed up, that means we might be able to fix it," Rhys offers, somewhat optimistically.

He reaches up for his face again, this time scratching at a patch of crusted dirt that crumbles and falls free at the digging of his nails. It's just mud, just soil, and he shouldn't be afraid of it. Don't think about it, don't worry about it, just appreciate that it's there because it's probably why he hasn't frozen to death in the plain jeans and t-shirt he's wearing under the layers of earth.

"And if MIller happens to be the first one we run into, well, I'm not gonna argue." His lips pull in a tight smile, before he pauses. "You sound like you need a break, though. Or a ride? I don't know if I can carry you, but I'd give it a try. Onboard navigator since I can't see shit?"

"I don't think I'm terribly heavy..."

He's not feather-light, but bones and muscle weigh a lot and now he has neither, all replaced by some sort of liquid. He reaches out to try again to pull himself onto Rhys's shoulder or wherever he thinks his shoulder might be, if it happens to be not quite distinct.

"Miller's actions haven't fully failed. For those of us who did lose their minds, I'll make sure it won't happen to anyone else, if we see him."

He may be unable to see the harm he might cause, but that doesn't necessarily apply to the harm anyone causes. And Miller has made the mistake of claiming Beckett. For all his constant love-fueled giddiness, for all the triumph, there might well be just one person he does intend to harm.

Even if the overarching goal is altruistic, to prevent the same harm from coming to anyone else (much like his still-human counterpart), it would appear Miller's sensation of a not-Wisp have indeed tapped into his resentment at being hurt or seeing his loved ones hurt, like the real vileness did for Heaven (and The Darkness itself, naturally), in which, again, for hours of excruciating physical and emotional pain, he only wished to spare Earth.

"He'll do it again. We know he will."

Edited (whoops I thought of the perfect canon parallel) 2018-11-05 07:32 (UTC)

And Rhys, of course, has if not the strength of earth, than the solid stability of it...even when the dirt cascades off him, it always comes back, and it's running over a core of stone. He's not thinking too much about what might be under it, given how he felt in the white room when all this was happening, so he's just going to focus on functioning without losing his mind.

Small goals always work best here.

So the grip that Enoch can get on Rhys's shoulders is probably pretty solid, even more so because the soil pulls at him, grabs on. If it was anyone else, they might be buried, but this is gentle, almost playful: a weird little game of quicksand.

"I don't think it's going to end well for him no matter what happens," Rhys agrees. "I think he's nuked pretty much every bridge from space and as far as thinking he's helping, well...good intentions doesn't buy all that much when you're butchering people."

He pulls the mantle of dirt closer around him, slowing the constant cascade for a few moments as he starts to walk. This is all a learning experience for both of them, apparently. And walking means not dwelling on past horrors, just this surprisingly tolerable one.

Enoch seems to adjust to the pull without even thinking about it, rippling to avoid being sucked in as he winds himself around Rhys's arm. There's really no time to wonder which direction is his "forward", or how this is distinguished, all he knows is that his vision would be right next to where Rhys would see if he still could.

"Indeed. It may not be us...but imagine if the copies he made, if we aren't- I'm not so sure we are anymore - are the ones to defeat him. How fitting for him that would be. Ah- the tunnel continues straight from here, just keep walking."

"Think that'll work." He takes a few more steps, experimentally, and nods half to himself and half to Enoch.

"I can feel the walls, where my footsteps stop. It's weird but I can follow things this way. Sorta?" He continues as Enoch directs, knowing that not walking into walls is only part of successful travel. And once he gets out into the open? He won't have the handy vibrations of tunnel walls to keep him on track. That's the scary part.

"Vengeance is nice, but I just want this to be over, honestly. I could sleep okay if we all got whisked away and Miller just stayed here and rotted for the rest of eternity." He coughs slightly, amending that because it sounds cold. Rhys is hungry, though, and a bit pissy at the whole thing.

"I'd like to end it completely, but I'll take what I can get. One step at a time, until it's over, whatever happens."

That was pretty vengeful as far as his thoughts go, wasn't it? This man delights in others' suffering, and in spite of all of his empathy and pacifism Enoch cannot excuse that, especially when he's made weapons of them against one another.

(Is that what burned itself away back then? He tries to examine it and finds it much like the futility of trying to move an overtaxed limb, the will to do it there but the ability very absent.)

"I don't think we can discount him somehow finding a way out or, Heaven forbid, a way to resume bringing others in."

He sighs, a gentle ripple through his liquid body. "I don't care if this ends or not. I think the town should remain standing as a warning. Humanity can destroy itself if it does not learn love before coming to this.

"I wrote a poem about that once, to distract myself from my own thoughts otherwise. I wonder if it's still on my tablet, or if it won't recognize me anymore."

"Making sure that he doesn't get out would be worth a little blood," Rhys agrees, realizing that maybe he is vindictive after all. He had put Travis Spates in the ground without hesitation, after all, and to this day still didn't regret it. What he regretted more was the fact that he had no urge whatsoever to repent for that particular act.

Sometimes, the scales didn't balance themselves.

"I have no idea where my tablet is. I hope it's okay." He pauses, looking embarrassed. "I have...letters, on mine. As silly as it seems. At least poems are art, you know?"

He has faith in Enoch to create soulful things. He just seems like the type. Rhys, meanwhile, just tended to ramble.

"If we could get in touch with everyone else, though, let them know that we're...well, maybe OKAY isn't the word, but still."

"Alive. Here. That we've escaped whatever else Miller had in store for us."

He falls silent for a while, watching their progress through the corridor.

"One of the open areas is ahead. Do you want to surface here? I can't be sure which it leads to."

"If you can find our way back down here, just in case, that might be a good idea. I'm not sure how the cold will affect us yet when we're actually out. Plus, you know. Escape path."

Even as a crumbling dirt and stone and mud creature, Rhys is still very practical. Maybe even moreso now that he's completely blind...

"Let me know how you're feeling, too. If that changes. Aside from hungry. I don't know that there's much we can do about that right now."

"I'll know where we are in the town once we surface. There are only so many places the tunnels lead to."

He goes quieter than normal, stiller than normal, as still as a living puddle can be, at the mention of the hunger.

"I still don't know what it is I hunger for. Flynn- I didn't see which way he went." Which isn't good, considering. "...He chose the word 'flesh' for his craving, rather than simply 'meat'. I'm worried Miller did get to him, though he seemed willing to entertain the idea that the meat at the store downtown might suffice."

"Grocery store meat sounds like a good idea, honestly. I could go for that." It's weird to admit, but on the other hand, with everything his body has been through, of course it's going to crave protein and iron.

Never mind how much iron might already be in him, but still.

"We need to get to the tablets, find a way to undo this or at least work around it. But it's funny how big and small the town seems at the same time." It's a weird feeling, but not a surprise considering now that Rhys is completely blind. He'd known it was a possibility since he first lost his sight in his right eye, so many years ago, but now, it seems like a much bigger loss.

"I just don't want to be useless," he admits, after a second. "At least the tablet might be able to voice-respond."

"Our voices do seem to be unchanged. The ladder is to your left if you want to feel along the wall for it."

Can Rhys even climb properly with a constantly shifting body? He supposes they'll just have to find out.

"I definitely would rather find a tablet first, before seeking out anyone else. I don't want to alarm them, so by the store would be a good place to begin. I doubt there are very many people there."

Rhys can indeed climb the ladder. His hands find the rungs, then his first foot peeks out of the surging dirt, and he's moving slowly but carefully up. It takes him a few moments, particularly with Enoch riding along and shifting his weight, but it's not long before he's at the top of the exit and trying to feel his way for the door that will let them out into the open world.

The big, open world. A flutter of apprehension as the air changes, and he pauses at the threshold, trying to get his bearings or guess at least a little where they might be. Enoch is his eyes, but it's hard to trust when you've recently lost a major sense, and the churning intensifies as more dirt and stones are shed from his walking entombment.

"Not as cold as I expected."

Enoch peers out of the trapdoor, stretching himself up as tall as he can without becoming too unstable to stay upright. It's not unlike stretching his arms to pull himself up, except it's his neck. Or not his neck. He still doesn't really understand and maybe it's best he doesn't try for now.

"Not at all. Well, I didn't feel cold in the first place, so I can't judge it, myself. We're...in the large house near Kesara's tunnels. We could move further along the tunnels or we could try from here. If the cold doesn't affect us it shouldn't make much difference, should it?"

RHys nods, almost absently as he tries to cast around him for input, things that he can track and feel. He reaches out and moves carefully until he finds a wall, and his hand presses flat against it as he gets his bearings. There's more walls, more doors, but he can at least feel his way along. There's a sense of echo of his voice, of his movements, and while they aren't really guidance, that's what Enoch is for.

Well that and company, because being alone in this fucked up situation wouldn't be much fun at all. A familiar voice is comforting, no matter how distorted or strange.

"I think we can try this? I don't know what outside will be like, though. I think...I think I need the walls, or something. I can feel when other people around around when they move, but i don't feel nearly as much through the ground when it's just me."

He wishes he sounded happier, but it's hard.

It isn't just you. I can guide you!

[Of that, he's certain and relieved. It's good to be able to actually help.]

Though...given that, might you be more comfortable traveling the tunnels to the end? It would come up in the western tunnels, with the hospital, which isn't such a wide expanse.

Rhys can't help but show his relief at the suggestion, still hugging the wall like it's his sole support as the dirt continues to drip and reform from the paneled floor of the building.

"...I like that idea, honestly. I was near the high school when I started getting sick, when all this happened, so maybe if I retract my steps, I might find my tablet and gear there, too." He's not sure he'll actually get back there, but it's worth a try.

"But one thing at a time. The hospital might be good, too...if I can find some medical supplies or search the houses in a part of town not a lot of people are getting out to." That's another thought, and one the REal Rhys had already had, though some time ago...

Our tablets were likely considered lost, so returning to where they were, unless you had someone to keep it for you, wouldn't help, would it?

[Even as unnaturally excited as Enoch is as far as his heartbeat and breathing rates are concerned, he's still entirely focused on helping others.]

Maybe. Rhys was with me before this all happened, but it's hard to tell with everything breaking down so badly.

Even just going back to a place that's familiar, that we know our way around isn't a bad idea, I don't think.

[The dirt ripples again, shifting in another wave as he stands there by the wall. Sorry, Enoch. Rhys is trying to be excited for Doing Things, but he's hungry and a little disturbed. Every so often, there's a wave of screaming wrongness that washes over him and he loses a little more ground.]

That's what I'm thinking, anyway. I doubt we'll get back into the bunker but it would be good to be able to resupply and figure out...something at least.

Resupply...what do we need, aside from food?

[The question of what food they need notwithstanding.

But really, Enoch's not seeing the benefit of grabbing supplies one of the more fragile ones out there might need more. The ones Miller didn't take are still, well, human. They don't have immunity to the cold. And Enoch should be maybe more disturbed by the fact that he can think about this, about himself this way, but...as long as he's so sure he can help with all that, it's hard to fault it.]

[Rhys rubs his fingers together, feeling dirt and grit and half-wondering if his hands are even his hands anymore, as strange from the rest of him as they seem.

Enoch's got a point, but Rhys has been distributing and sharing his supplies freely since he got here, seeing the benefit in being prepared for every situation.]

I've been running supplies for a while now, between the Bunker and other places. I just kind of figure it's good to have extra on me to spread around, when people are doing other work. At least I can keep them fed and healthy, you know?

Hm...I suppose I could fashion myself into a sack to help carry them. I haven't tried deliberately spreading flat before.

[Flynn had dismissed the idea of helping provide for the remaining people in town and it had somehow made it seem even less appealing to him too. He isn't sure why, though it's easy enough to tell himself he'd rather wait until the others know what they're in for.]

Edited (started one sentence but finished another...) 2018-12-08 00:09 (UTC)

Well, let's focus on getting there first, right?

[Says the guy who won't pry away from the wall and is very much considering just hiding in the tunnels.]

Although that sounds like very cool shapeshifting if you can manage it.

I can't say I would feel comfortable letting go of my...I don't want to use the word humanity for it, because I am human regardless, but- I think so long as I remember what I'm supposed to look like, whatever else I manage isn't going to matter.

[That probably made no sense, unless Rhys has already intuited that Enoch's shape mostly conforms to his original self-image.]

Let's go - I suppose if there's a reason to find out if I can, this would be the best.

{Rhys can't actually see Enoch's shape or how much he actually resembles the Enoch he knows, but he gets the gist of it.]

I get that. You kinda have a brain imprint at the bottom of it all, that's your image of yourself. You can keep coming back to that, if you make sure that you keep it in mind and don't drift too far.

[Himself and the violet eyes.]

Okay. I'm trusting you here, don't get me too lost, okay?

[There's a small laugh in his voice as he carefully peels off the wall and starts to walk through the house, hands out to guide him along the space of the house by the echoes of his falling dirt and Enoch's directions.]

[log] Event: Metamorphosis, Part Three

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cw: Noisy Black

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