[network] @crescent; to die historic on the furry road [open]

[lancingintherain]

[usually, the worst thing about waking up is remembering how hungry she is. But this morning, as Day 45 breaks cold and overcast as usual, the worst thing about waking up is remembering that last night, her friend got literally eaten by a monster.

She has to warn people. She couldn't save Mami, but maybe she can help others. So once she's mostly talked herself down from numb grief and fear, she turns on her tablet's video function. At first, it's aiming at a wooden tabletop, but she tilts it to show a drawing. For having been drawn last night in the dark in the hazy, panicky aftermath of mortal peril, it's pretty decent:



She clears her throat and starts to speak, her voice low and breaking despite her efforts to keep it steady.]

Four days ago, I was traveling with Alphonse Elric's group. We were attacked by this monster here. [a gray-furred, four-fingered hand moves into the video to tap at the top left of the picture with one sharp claw.] It was... well, if you've seen Alphonse, you know how tall he is. This one was taller. It had... light, instead of skin. Like what we see on the videos, sometimes. I'm not explaining it quite right, but... we got away.

[she swallows, then takes a shaky breath and points to the drawing on the right.]

Mami Tomoe and I—she's a young human girl; some of you have met her—we were on our own, yesterday. This monster attacked us last night. We—I tried to...

[she breaks off, planting her hand flat on the table to stop it from shaking. When she speaks again, her voice is hard.]

...It swallowed her. It ate her whole. That's what they do. Now we know.

[she points to the bottom drawing.]

It said things to me, before it—before it ate her. Spoke right into my head. "I want it"; "I am here"; I wrote down what I could remember. And there's something else. All of the other monsters I've seen have looked, well, they've looked human, or something like it. But this one... oh, it's easiest to just show it.

[the video swings dizzyingly as she picks up the tablet, and she taps on the screen to turn the camera. At once, the view of the tabletop and wall becomes a view of her very inhuman face, framed by her pale, tangled hair and large ears. Her eyes are tired, and her muzzle is streaked with dark, dried blood.]

...It looked like me. Like one of my people. But it... it ran on all fours, like an animal. ...I don't know what any of it means. But one thing's the same—and if anyone who's just arrived is watching this, you'd better listen. [her voice turns cold, and she looks straight into the camera.] If you see a monster, you run, got it? You run away as fast as you can, and get inside, and block the door. There's no fighting them. No fighting them at all.

[OOC: HOT GOLLY DAMN, there are enough threads here to feed a whole village of cute, thread-starved orphans. I'm capping the number of threads where it is. No more replies please, you beautiful people.]

Comments

[dr_unconscious]

[Yeah, right, he figured as much. Clayton rolls his eyes in the security of knowing that House isn't looking at him, but has the sense to maintain a calm, level exterior. He'd offer a physical presence for him to latch onto as well--a hand on House's knee or something--but he has no reason to believe that House would appreciate that kind of physical contact. He'll just leave him to his bubble and settle for grounding him through conversation instead.]

Sure thing. Ones from home? [Because while Clayton imagines that some of the shit he's tried to work with in Norfinbury would give House a puzzle worth solving, something tells him that introducing more weird shit to an already massive pile of weird shit will not help things. But hey, maybe...] Or from here? I got plenty a both.

[rubikscomplex]

Home. Anything weird. I don't care... about the common clinic crap.

[Definitely would prefer less weird shit at the moment. Or rather, he'd prefer the weird shit that he absolutely knows how to handle. Diseases that make sense and don't have 'magic' or 'space zombies' or 'the Operator' as the explanation.]

[lancingintherain]

[she almost smiles at that—very almost. But she doesn't, because a kid got eaten in front of her.]

Oh—I know who he is. Sealand mentioned him, after... when he'd woken up.

[EUPHEMISMS!! Awesome. She probes her face with a couple fingertips, finds the blood, and wishes she'd thought to check for any before going live on video in front of the whole town.]

He... um. He doesn't remember anything from the... attack, does he? Any of what happened?

[lancingintherain]

[she shakes her head, but she sighs in a way that sounds almost relieved. You're speaking her language, Haurche.]

Magic—finally, someone talking sense. We can't go tearing down buildings when we need them so desperately for shelter, but... maybe an inner wall, or two...

[she looks thoughtfully at something just off-camera: her iron fire poker, leaning against the table leg. But she gives another shake of her head.]

But nevermind that, for now. You asked about fighting the monsters. I've—I've tried it, myself, when they first appeared nearly a month ago. Went to hit one with a piece of wood. [a bit defensively:] ...It was the best weapon I had, at the time.

[silverfuller]

[He blinks, surprised.]

That the best you could find was wood I have no doubt. I've yet to find a suitable weapon myself which, I must confess, makes me feel rather naked.

...But...you say these creatures only appeared recently? They have not always been here?

thank u Terri for giving me so many fun things to research on the drive home

[dr_unconscious]

Alright, keep breathin'. Lemme think.

[No "common clinic crap" actually narrows the field down quite considerably. Most of the fun stories Clayton likes to swap at parties would fit into that category--what interesting things he's had to pull out of people's asses this week, how many buttons did the x-ray pick up in that one guy's stomach, what excuse did that couple come up with for what was clearly an overenthusiastic use of a vibrator, so on and so forth. They're straightforward and they have a punchline. These are not the stories House is looking for. He's a mystery novel kind of guy, not the 101 Puns Book aficionado.]

[After a minute or so of quiet pondering, Clayton manages to dredge something up that might fit what the other doctor ordered.]

...Okay, I got one. Stop me if you've heard it before. [He shifts into a more comfortable sit, settling in for the long haul.] Had this old fella brought in by his neighbor, said she found him passed out in front a his house. Fell down the steps t' his porch 'n cracked his head on the pavement. So we start treatin' him fer a concussion when he wakes up, an' he's...damn, he's piss-drunk. Turns out he's got a blood alcohol content a somethin' like...0.3? 0.4? 'Round there--you get that high up 'n roundin' stops matterin' so much.

So we got 'em in recovery, assumin' he jus' got a lil' carried away after dinner, an' he insists he ain't drank nothin'. Had a full meal 'n a glass a milk, he says. But his neighbor says she's seen him wanderin' 'round his yard the week before like he's drank the whole cabinet, y'know? She's thinkin' he's got a history an' he's too embarrassed t' admit it, an' so's thinkin' half the department. But I'm thinkin', what's he lyin' about? How'd he do it with jus' dinner 'n a glass a milk?...

private

[cloneprincess]

[ Miranda hesitates, for once weighing the consequences of speaking her mind against the potential for inspiring massive paranoia. Speaking her mind wins; everyone here could probably use a little more paranoia if it kept them all alive. ]

I know monsters that are made from creatures that used to be sentient. My galaxy was fighting a war against them, and losing badly.

They don't look or behave the way the ones here do, but... I'm concerned.

beckett so considerate

[lancingintherain]

[she's not surprised that he's human (wow way to assume, freya), but she can't help but feel a little disappointed, in the small part of herself that keeps holding out hope for another person like her to show up. Or at least someone not so... bald and small-eared and flat-faced. She'll take a mole person, or a hippo person, or even a Qu. She's not picky.]

[but she doesn't dwell on that—after all, the last thing she deserves is more friends to let monsters eat. She nods in thanks for his sympathy, then shakes her head slowly at the other, easier thing to talk about. OH WAIT, it's not easier, because another friend of hers went and froze to death right outside a house recently.]

That's... [oh cool, her voice sounds kind of choked up. She clears her throat, then carries on.] ...Yes. You can't break out or break in. ...Monsters can't, either.

...But they vanish, by daybreak. They pound on the doors and look through the windows all night, but... then they're gone.

[lancingintherain]

[there's silence on her end for a few moments as she turns this new, frankly horrifying, revelation about both the nature of the monster[s] and the nature of The New Friend, Geromy Brian over in her overtaxed, overtired brain. Finally, she finds some words.]

I... pardon me? It... it ate—er, took Brian's self?

[hey nobody said they were very eloquent words.]

...Brian. Um. That's—that's true? That's what happened to you?

I... I thought you were just... quiet.

[shy and kind of creepy, not so much an empty husk. It's ok, Brian, nobody's perfect.]

Thank u for making me research in return (and I hope this is right, but House is cleverer than me)

[rubikscomplex]

[House is about to cut Clayton off, to reiterate that he wants interesting cases, but before he can, the story does take a turn for the more intriguing. To Clayton's credit, it takes House roughly half a minute before he replies. He'd blame it on being in the middle of a panic attack.]

Anybody... bother to check if grandpa was a... diabetic?

[Breathing in, breathing out. He's panicking, but he can deal with this. It will be over soon. Just focus on Clayton's cases. He's not going to die. It feels like he's going to die. His hands are shaking, but it will be over soon.]

[rubikscomplex]

Absolutely! I think you should let everyone know they're slacking. I could use some sick new gear. Tell them I'll shut up especially long it they have gloves in men's sizes that aren't pink.

[lancingintherain]

[she nods, her head still down. Even with claws, picking apart knots that have frosted over takes a minute.]

If we can't find you any, we should make leggings, at least—I've got enough cloth for a pair.

[she looks up and peers at Mami through the falling snow as she pulls off one snowshoe and starts untying the other.]

Wait for me, all right? I'll listen at the door.

[fataliteas]

[She doesn't meet Freya's gaze. Her focus has drifted to the snow, to the way they had just come. What did it matter?

What did any of it matter? In every direction there was just more snow, more hopelessness, the same pitifully small chance of finding answers. A day-to-day grind without meaning beyond the baseline struggle to find food and shelter.]

As you'd like.

YESSS

[lancingintherain]

[she shakes her head firmly, then leans her elbow on the table and cups the lower half of her face in one shaking hand. She can't bring herself to look him in the eye. Here was someone else who had been counting on her to have Mami's back, to look out for her, because he'd been Mami's friend and comrade, too...]

No. Stay right where you are. Don't you come after me. I... don't put yourselves in danger; please.

[lancingintherain]

[she clasps both hands over the sides of her head, digging her claws onto her hair and squeezing her eyes shut. A lump she thought she'd swallowed for good starts to rise in her throat again.]

That's... that's kind of you. Always seeing the best in people—that's you, Al. [bitter and mad at herself?? Her??? Nah.] But I was—I know its useless now, but I can't help but think—I should have been able to save her.

[lancingintherain]

[she tries to sit up a little straighter when she sees him show up on her tablet, but she's still the total opposite of what she was like the last time they spoke. She's quiet and hesitant, all the fire gone out of her.]

That's what I heard. That's what it said. ...There was more, too, but I can remember the rest.

You haven't heard one of them speak, have you? Or—or anything like this?

[0thingsonmymind]

*He's pretty sure that's not true but he's not entirely positive what she's asking so...*

?

*Yep, that'll get him more explination.*

[armoured]

[He knows that feeling all too well, and it's like she's mirroring his own thoughts right then.]

How? You-- I know you would have done something if you could have done.

[I couldn't even save one little girl.]

Mami wouldn't want you to blame yourself.

[Blame him instead for letting them go.]

[deus_ex_phs]

[Kunsel blows out a breath, glad that Zack picked up on the same things he had and doesn't need Kunsel to spell his worries out.]

So, what does that mean? That it's not likely she's a clone? I talked to a woman who was another race here, but you think Freya's another species entirely?

[He could just ask Freya, he knows, but if he's right, there's no way to phrase the question without sounding insulting, and if he's wrong and they're dealing with an abnormally intelligent clone, then he hardly expects her to come out and admit it.

So the only option is to dig for information without tipping her off to what he's looking for.]

There are monsters in my world that have limited speech. Very limited. They're not very common either. I meant that I haven't run into anything like them here. At least until what you described.

Yes, before the attack. Just because you weren't injured in the most recent attack doesn't mean you might not still be injured. I've known too many people who deflect like that to get that by me.

Is there anything wrong?

[maskintape]

Well, uh, there's your answer. It used to be me who was the quiet creepy one. Brian was the funny guy that everybody liked, and now he's...

[ This. ]

Just. Really sick, so.

I do not know I we have a thread order here so if we do sorry for jumping it

[0thingsonmymind]

iam not sick
like that

*It's just the coughing and seizures, really! Not idea about this Brian guy, though.*

[maskintape]

Sure you're not, buddy. Remember anything from before Alex's Marble Hornets shoot? Didn't think so.

[ Just. The flattest, most deadened tone in the universe. BLUH. ]

[0thingsonmymind]

*Man, he does not even remember the shoot.*

there is nⓍ thing to re mem ber.

*Nothing important, at least.*

voice;

[clockblock]

[He both does and doesn't want to ask the question that emerged, almost fully formed, in the long minutes spent processing her broadcast. He knows where it could lead. Where it will lead, guided by his own compulsions. But he's built his life, his way of thinking and behaving, upon brushing aside doubts and thoughts of consequence when the rewards that counterbalanced them seemed close enough, large enough, to justify any risk.]

Who are your people?

[Who, not what.]

he owes her one remember!

[bookofnope]

[Just his luck that he put his foot right into it. Beckett looks away slightly when Freya chokes, letting her have space to gather herself if she needs it. But the question is important. The doors are the most overt sign so far that anything in Norfinbury can be controlled.]

That - is not surprising, nighttime being when humans are most vulnerable. Plenty of supernatural hunters retreat with the dawn. [Like, say, vampires. He still struggles with that himself.]

But if the lockdown also keeps us out, that suggests that it is not there to protect us from dying. Not as individuals. Perhaps not be massacred... or perhaps contained.