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Cradle of Forest RPG

Interesting thought

Interesting thought

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*weeps as sitting on a bench. It is night out and Mrytle of course depressed*
Tom Tom Tom.. why didn't I see it before. Harry and you are precisely alike.
*she moans and cries* If anyone had thought Harry could turn evil like that..
I didn't though. I did not put the pieces together fast enough *sniffle, cries*
  • There are certainly a lot of ghosts these days.
  • "Mmm. Alright." Hawkeye shrugged. It would have helped if the ghosts were social. At least this one hadn't tried flying at him or tearing its face off to freak him out.

    He started away.
    • wa.. wait *she says trying to get a hold of herself metaphorically speaking* If.. if you see a jar with a very small bloat feed it a spider okay? *cries* Kay well .. go ahead *sniffle*
      • "Ok...I will." Hawkeye had no idea what the ghost was talking about but then, he rarely did.

        Usually they were telling him stories of how they died, after all....

        Hawkeye kept walking, glancing back nervously time and again as though he thought Alchemilla itself might follow him.
        • D'Namouh had left the apartment, still in a drugged haze, murmuring to herself about visions. The priest had had them when they'd give him this shit, but she was left without even her dreams lately. What good was White Claudia if she saw nothing at all?

          Or perhaps it was her own future, so undefined, uncertain. Or just maybe there was nothing at all.

          She made her way down four flights of stairs, and then stumbled out into the street, looking either way for cars before she crossed it. She had dressed hastily, her blouse buttoned crooked, and her hair was still mussed up from the sex. Oh, yes, Jack was much better off with Xev.
          • Hawkeye startled when he saw movement but, oddly, calmed down when he saw it was D'Namouh.

            In spite of her last angsty post he certainly seemed relieved she wasn't an ashen child or a zombie nurse...
            • Angsty! Yes, that was it... she was angsty.

              D'Namouh was walking along a chain-link fence, running one hand lightly over the mesh. She was thinking of Jack, still, who'd been a decent enough lover; thinking of his blood, running onto the sheets, sharing it with Malachai, whose mouthful of razors put her dainty fangs to shame. What else could he promise her?

              She hardly notice anything else, but the sound of footsteps seemed too rhythmic against the random sounds she'd been listening to, and she looked up to see the doctor. "Doctor!"
              • Hawkeye nodded. "Yes, that's right, I'm a doctor. Why, did you need anything?" He seemed a little aggitated and strangely, it was not because of her.
                • "I need..." She took a deep breath, tried to think about it, and then just laughed darkly. "I need nothing. I have everything I could ever need..." She leaned against the fence, eyeing him rather seductively. Just... for the hell of it. Maybe to unsettle him, although there was no point, right? Maybe? Maybe she could kill him; boy would Malachai come running then!
  • Hawkeye sighed in relief; so far so good.

    He'd only met two people, and neither had questioned or detained him.

    "Well. Great. See you around then...." He lowered his head, jammed his hands in his pockets and started to walk away quickly.
    • Wait a second..

      "Hey... wait, where are you going?" This wasn't how it was supposed to go. D'Namouh pushed herself away from the fence, almost too hard, and once she'd steadied herself she went after him. "..wait! Doctor, please... walk with me? You know I love your company..." She slipped her arm through his and smiled up at him.
      • He looked surprised and a bit worried but, if she could possibly tell anything about it from the look in his eyes alone she would know it had little to do with her vampirism.

        Hawkeye'd been hoping to not meet anyone. His eyes shifted nervously. "Sure. Ok, sure." It was clear though he was hoping to get back on his own at the first available moment. Hopefully with as few more witnesses to his walking as possible...
        • Well, D'Namouh was in a clingy mood, and she hung on to his arm. "See? This isn't so bad. How've you been, Doctor? Pierce, yes? Captain?" She laughed again. "You're nervous.. It's not because of me, is it?
  • "Pierce, yeh. It's right here, see?" He dangled his dogtags at her. "Benjamin, actually. But you can cut the formalities and just call me Hawkeye."

    He sighed. It was obviously not going to be tonight. For one thing, D'Namouh seemed loathe to let him go any further.

    Still, maybe she knew.

    How to bring it up and still sound casual. "So," he said, "seen any...strange doors around here lately?"
    • D'Namouh eyed him, rather blearily in fact. "Strange doors? Strange doors... well. The one to my room? Sometimes it won't open. I think that's the strangest door I've encountered, here. Why? Benjamin... what's troubling you? You are troubled..." She had her chin propped on his shoulder by now, her lips stuck out slightly in a pout.
      • "Alright," Hawkeye said finally, "I'll tell you- I'm shipping out.
        I can't take this anymore. The violence, the nightmares, the...other nightmares...I have to get out. I'm not the right man for this job. You'll need to find another doctor. I can't take this."
  • "Other nightmares?" she repeated, then the pout became real. "You're leaving? But... but we need you... you've done so much at the hospital..."

    How the hell would he leave? Did he know something the rest of them didn't? "How are you... wait. You found a way out of here??"
    • Hawkeye looked around shiftily again, as if to make sure no one else was listening, not even a gumhead or a random air screecher. "The girl. Heather. Everyone thought she'd taken leave of her senses when she started marching right into dangerous places and stealing the doorknobs.

      But right after she did her cockamamie ritual all those people from Severus's world came cropping up, didn't they? and a girl from the place those dancing kids came from too...

      I think that's the answer. I think that's the door out of here. But everything in this world shifts, so I don't know where to find it.

      But when i do, it's every crumb for himself."
      • D'Namouh's face went slack and she stared at him. "A way out... but... where will it go? How do you know it'll take you back to where you came from?" Her head seemed to clear a little at this news, and all thoughts of defecting and teaming up with Malachai were wiped from her mind for the moment. "I mean... but... Do you think it could really work? Where did she perform this ritual? We could start there!"
        • "I don't know. I don't know! see, that's it, we just have to figure it out before everyone else finds out..." Hawkeye had been raising his voice, and he realized it.

          He put his hands on her shoulders. Spoke more softly, again glancing around. "Look. No one else needs to know about this. We just need to complete this search on our own. Then, wherever it leads? I'm not worried! at least it's not here!"
  • "There are worse places," she whispered, looking up at him wide-eyed. And you know this town draws people in... how can you be so certain it will let anyone out again? Even with a bunch of magic doorknobs?!"

    The idea actually frightened her. D'Namouh was scared to leave. She wasn't sure why... and she was afraid of Hawkeye leaving, since he'd done so much work setting up their make-shift hospital. And she'd saved the girl. And what about the people who's place was here in Silent Hill? Leave them all?
    • For this outburst Hawkeye glared at her with something akin to actual fury in his eyes.

      The pacifist medic was actually angry at someone.
      If looks could kill she'd be a smouldering pile in the street.

      He turned away from her and started walking on. "I'm finding that door," he growled, "I'm getting the hell out of here."
      • Wouldn't this be an absolutely crappy time for Malachai to make one of his appearances?

        Oh, but there he was, phasing in out of the shadows, singing.

        Way way down in the dump
        I found a tin can and a sugar lump
        I ate the one and kicked the other
        I had a real good time...


        "Ever been to the Silent Hill landfill, my dear?" he asked D'Namouh, "fasinating place. Enough filth and toxic chemicals and debris to tar a whole town this size if laid out end to end.

        You know, if I knew someone was trying to leave this late in the game I'd say that person was a bit of a traitor, wouldn't you? I'd say if such a person was leaving anyway it wouldn't matter if they never got to their destination, now would it?

        They'd just...disappear. Theirs would be the bones never found, mouldering in a lonely grave.

        Just a thought."

        and he went back to singing.

        way way down in the dump...
        • D'Namouh was watching Malachai, her mind reeling. Then she glanced once more at the good doctor's figure fading into the fog. He was betraying the rest of them. Weren't they supposed to help eachother? He was deserting everyone!

          "Yes..." she whispered, "he's so keen on finding a way out of here..." She could give him another way. No need to go looking for a door that might not be there.

          She stopped and looked around at Malachai, her eyes wide. "No one would know?" she asked him quietly.
          • Malachai opened his mouth to hisss something reassuring and entirely untrue. Yes, of course no oe would ever know. Yes of course this was the right thing for her to do.
            Yes of course.

            A bolt of green light hit him straight on before he could say word one.

            "Crucio!"

            Lord Voldemort tucked his -whoa, it was big!- wand away in his coat and came over to where Malachai writhed in pain. He nudged the monster with the toe of his shoe and tched.

            "Now tell me, dear boy, what kind of a future could you have offered her when they DID find out? There's more to leading people into darkness than random violence. You do need to offer some sort of insurance, a safekeeping provided they keep you pleased with their progress."

            Voldemort walked over to D'Namouh.

            "You, my dear, are a sight for sore eyes. You look even lovelier in person than I'd surmised from your entries." he reached in his coat again, but only for a box of sweets. "Treacle tart? Oh, I'm sorry- my bad again. You're vampire; I expect you don't eat do you?" He put the box away again. "Neither do I. But I must confess, it delights me to think of the tooth decay they cause anyone who does. Shall we walk a ways together? You'd honor me if you were to come along..."
  • Okay, this was getting far too surreal, and she began to wonder if she was dreaming again. Finally!

    D'Namouh couldn't say she wasn't sorry to see Malachai suffer. It had been awhile since the girl had been rescued, and Cassie hadn't been so keen on seeing the heroine who'd come for her, but she blamed Malachai for that. And for taking the girl in the first place. It just wasn't right, to make a mere girl go through all that.

    He wasn't a nice guy.

    On the other hand, she'd been interested in seeing what he had to offer her, and now this character was getting in the way.

    "You can speak your piece here," she murmured, not trusting the smooth compliments slipping from his tongue. And honestly, she ought to've been insulted when he offered the treats, but his rather silly comment about tooth decay made up for it. Considering that once he'd been so great - according to him - was this the best he could do these days?

    She glanced at Malachai, and then smirked. Here, in this moment, she actually had some power over him. But she said nothing to him, looking up at the wizard instead. "Well?"
    • Voldemort made an extravagant wave, offering her access to Malachai.

      "By all means. Let us hear this graceless thug out together. I shall be over here if you need me..." Voldemort sat on a bit of wainscoting in front of a store window and began buffing his nails.
      • Malachai hissed and groaned and whimpered. The Cruciatus curse was like a thousand charleyhorses all at the same time, combined with the sensation of breaking bones-though none were deliberately broken some victims ended up breaking their own in the writhing- fire ants, and the worst migraine ever...

        He was certainly in no state to make any promises.

        Nor to hold his human form. His face kept contorting, going ugly. The pinprick burnholes where eyes should be. The horrid elongated mouth with its needle teeth.

        "Tell him to stop it, please." he hissed out to D'Namouh.
        • That wasn't what she'd asked of him, and instead she found herself watching Malachai's form change, fascinated and disgusted all at once. She looked from one to the other of them, not reassured at all by the wizard's youthful good looks and slick words.

          But... that power. Yes, she could tell the wizard to let up, and he might actually obey, if only to get her trust.

          D'Namouh smiled wickedly, all of a sudden, and stood up. "Well well... I've got two admirers? Could that be possible? Vying for my attentions. I know I would let one of you down, should I choose the other. I could easily let you two fight over me.. fight to the death. I feel so special!" She smiled at the wizard, sickengingly sweet. "We've certainly got him in a bind, don't we? But I said.. I already said, you could very well speak your piece here, now. There's no need to take a walk. And yet you just sit there, and my question goes unanswered.

          She turned to Malachai, then. "Indeed, you're in no shape to be as tricky as our new friend, here. So tell me.. what awaits me in the caverns under the cemetary? What a luxurious life that would be!" She might be a bloodsucker, but that didn't mean she couldn't have a nice home above ground.
          • "Yes. by all means I'd love to hear what delights can be found in a filthy cemetery." Voldemort daubed at a spot of shininess on his face with a monogrammed hankerchief. "I tire of his whimpering anyway. Finite incantatem." The spell released Malachai, who lay there panting. "although you know, if you wish, I could finish him- certainly not much of an effort, as you can plainly see- or you could take him as a substitute for the doctor I so thoughtlessly denied you. Still, my dear, I'm sure you knew even as he offered that such snacks are a bit rich before bedtime...all that ostracism and regret they bring with them later.


            I am offering you nothing. You help me, and I give you nothing in return. And that, coming from me is most generous. In my past I killed my underlings as I found them devoid of any further use. I have decided in this instance to be less hasty. But nonetheless I AM attempting to rally an army and as I am asking you first this would afford you a better view, shall we say. In a first come first served structure of order, you'd have the best package. I am, however, offering nothing- and should you choose to turn me down, will extract nothing out of malice or disappointment for your decline.

            This is, as you know, a town that thrives on evil. Feeds on it. I knew that the moment I smelled it- the moment I saw Severus's sigil calling me. This being so I say keep your human friends! if they will so have you, but consider this venture of mine instead. It far outweighs joining this fool and his...pariahs."
  • Let's face it, D'Namouh liked little offerings. To be some high and mighty in a wizard's army didn't sound so much fun. It sounded, in a way, as if she'd be the man's pet, more than anything, since she didn't have magic, just... big teeth.

    And she had no friends here. Jack was the closest thing to it, so far, but she suspected he was in it mostly for the hair-pulling. "I'd have the best package? And yet... you offer me nothing, except the assurance that you won't kill me if I outlive my usefulness?

    It doesn't make me feel all that special, actually. It only tells me that you are desperate and at some point you've been knocked off your high horse..."

    She turned to Malachai, her expression harsh. "You, on the other hand, have given me the girl - to do with as I please - and have supplied me with.. other gifts. You've promised me a place amongst those who are outcasts..." She glanced at the wizard. "Those who would accept me as an equal."

    It seemed she'd made her decision. Only she still wanted to hear what Malachai had to say. She could refuse them both, although so far they'd both been persistant anyway.
    • Voldemort smirked but, true to his word did nothing to quell his irritation.

      He gave D'Nam a bow and a flourish, and strolled off down the street, quickly disappearing in the fog.
      • ...it was to be a sad victory for Malachai.

        Certainly he did not want to barter one way or the other injured.

        He had staggered to his feet, but in his struggling he had wounded his arm. He held it cradled to his chest, obviously aching.

        At the first opportunity he made a dash for the shadows, disappearing into them as though they were a door only he could pass through.

        The streets were quiet once more.

        A patient-demon was wandering along the opposite side of the street, wobbling along with its misshapen legs and straitjacket of melted armskin.

        It stopped as though watching all this through the diseased wreck of a face it barely had, then tried shuffling off in the opposite direction.

        Wizards, shapeshifters and vampires! Seemed a mere monster couldn't be safe in these streets anymore!
        There went the neighborhood!
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