oh you fool, there are rules, i am coming for you

[singmod]

THE DARKWALKER COMES

The Darkwalker makes its first real strike against the Interlopers, resulting in the death of La'an Noonien-Singh. In the wake of her death, her fellow Interlopers are left to deal with the fallout of this new part of the horror of the Northern Territories.

WHEN: January 25th, onwards.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: death of playable character; supernatural death; mention of dead body; themes of death; supernatural beings; themes of terror; themes of peril.

OH, THE RECKONING BEGINS

On the night of January 25th, all is calm. It is a peaceful, if not cold evening. There are no clouds in the skies, the stars and moon hang high in the blanket of inky black. It would be just another night, until something strange happens: one by one, the stars begin to go out and the moon's light fades from view, as if swallowed whole.

Instead, there is nothing but the gloom. The sky is dark and green and terrible. Interlopers all over the Northern Territories will stop and stare — horrified by such a sight. And then, it washes over you like a cold wave: fear. Interlopers will find themselves over-come, and everything in their bodies and minds tells them to run. To flee. And so you run, heading for cover indoors. Curtains will be drawn, some may hide under beds, within closets or wardrobes. Some desperate attempt to conceal themselves, make themselves small, unseen. Some Interlopers, in that fear, may rush to friends or loved ones to hide with them, others may simply cowered alone — crawling and whimpering away from the night. The fear is irrational, unable to be overcome — even by the bravest or most stoic of Interlopers.

And then: noise. Coming from towards the east, the sounds of unnatural and almost-demonic roars, groans and moans — unable to be likened to or truly described. Drawing nearer and nearer — and you know it, even if you don't understand why: something is coming. It's coming here. You are powerless, unable to do anything. And it is an agony, awaiting its arrival. You cry, you whimper, you cower. Curling up for some shred of comfort, and finding none.

It seems to go on forever, building into a crescendo. Your heart beats so hard you fear it may burst from your chest, as if you might die of fright.

And then, a screaming wail — sharp as it cuts through the building dread. A woman. You know it, don't you? You're sure you've heard it before.

The silence that follows is deafening. The green gloom subsides, the fear slowly melts away within you. You wait, and wait. Finally, when it feels like you can breathe again, you decide to move.

Interlopers who dare to venture outside, who dare to look from behind curtains may see nothing at all. The skies have returned to normal, the moon is out once more. But those close to the center of town will see the small frame of a body curled in the snow. Some may not know her, but plenty will recognise her: Lieutenant La'an Noonien Singh.

It looks almost as if she'd collapsed. But those who decide to investigate will discover a gruesome scene. While there will appear to be no physical wounds, her body will appear contorted — expression frozen in absolute fear. It will be incredibly unnatural and violent to look at. La'an is dead. Around her, the footsteps that brought her to this spot. Strange 'waves' in the snow, too. Hard to define as to what exactly made them. And... faint glimmers of green, intangible. Almost like a residue — which will vanish by the time morning comes.

This is not the first time. La'an Noonien-Singh is the thirteenth Interloper to die since they first began to arrive in this place. But this is certainly the first time something like this has ever happened.

But preparations must be made, an Interloper must be mourned and laid to rest.

And the rest of Milton must come to terms with what has happened, if they can put a name to such a thing.

FAQs

1. Essentially, a 'party post' for reactions to the Darkwalker's Arrival, the immediate aftermath, and any funerary preparations following La'an's death. Have... fun?

2. Information on the Darkwalker's attack can be found here.

3. An OOC Rundown can be found here.

4. For those interested: Harry Goodsir is conducting a post-mortem on La'an, which can be found here.

Comments

[skelters]

[ it's okay. it's okay. i understand.

it's meant to be soothing - he gets that. but getting it doesn't actually mean acceptance, and vee is the furthest thing away from ever accepting who he is and what he is. the veins that glow every aurora feels like a betrayal every single time. the scars that line his skin feels like each and every tragedy he had failed to prevent, the shortcomings that keep him from being perfect, the sickness festering in his chest that echoes with his brother's voice. the screams rattling around in his skull sounds like rem, like rosa, like meryl, like everyone who burned in the fire and rubble of his brother's fury against those he feels have wronged them.

he understands it wasn't the same. knives is not the same. he is not the same brother that he himself have known. it is a different world - a different soul split into two. vee knows that whatever shattered pieces he has don't perfectly align. but in that moment back then, when knives have reached for him - with the screams of the dead and the dying filling the air and choking up his lungs - the pieces aligned, brokenly, to reflect with the otherworldly shining lights of nai's eyes.

i'm sorry, he thinks - maybe it is some kind of prayer, some messed up version of one, plaintive and just as useless. i'm sorry. i'm sorry. i'm sorry - ]

[amo]

[ There's a distinct sensation that comes with using his new gift on someone who doesn't share it and cannot respond. At times it's not unlike yelling into an abyss, a yawning chasm that's cold and lonely and endless; like space. Sometimes it's barely there and other times it's hard to ignore and makes reaching for that connection unpleasant. Right now, in his already jittery state, Vash feels it more keenly than ever. Still, it's important that his other self knows. ]

« Knives understands too, you know. »

[ And it must hurt his brother every time they flinch away, but those are the consequences of his actions and his twin knows that — never comments on the ingrained fear probably for that very reason. If Vee's version of his brother is similar to Knives in the same way that they themselves share so many similarities, then he can hardly be faulted for reacting like he did when tensions were already running high.

If anything, it's a miracle he can stand to live in the same space and share the same bed with the reminder of a monstrous brother whether they're the same or not. Vash isn't so sure he could have done the same had he been younger and full of fury himself. (Except he'd still managed to stay by Knives' side for eighty years even after the Fall for reasons he hadn't understood then.)

Vash's pace slows when he notices the tracks in the snow changing, the stride not as long and going uneven around some roots that suggest a stagger. It gives him time to catch his breath and do something about the unnerving silence in his head and the forest around him.

He sings, softly, some ditty Rem used to love and hum all the time.

It's as much to soothe and calm himself when the singing regulates his breathing, forces him to draw in enough air to produce sound and let it out again, as it is to let Vee hear his approach and hopefully not get startled more by the crunching of his footsteps in the snow, if he's near. ]

[skelters]

[ maybe it is a blessing that vash cannot hear his thoughts in return - though it is just another way that vee uses to his own ends to run away, shutting his mind against the warmth of the words as if he isn't deserving of forgiveness - not from anyone, and especially not from himself. he knows that they are more similar than he is willing to admit; that perhaps out of everyone, he might as well be the only one that vee can open his heart to and find some kind of comfort or even understanding, as vash'd said - but did he really want to? did he deserve it? isn't he just some ugly, incomplete thing, pretending at what he isn't, trying to stave off the loneliness? is it working? has it ever worked?

his ankle twinges from the ungainly fall from earlier, but it's a pain that vee can ignore in favour of pushing forward stubbornly, trudging through the snow covered forest without any particular direction in mind ... though at some point he must have gotten turned around, struggling through the thick shrubbery and skirting around the knot of trees, until he is retracing back in the direction he'd come from without realising. it only becomes apparent to him when, beyond the whistling of the wind shaking the branches overhead, he hears something else that doesn't follow the pattern.

a song.

vee hesitates in place - he realises his mistake now, but at this distance, it is too close for him to make a move - any little sound would alert vash to his presence. ]

[amo]

[ It helps a little to sing a song that's associated with a source of comfort to break the eerie stillness of the forest. The jittery fear stubbornly remains, filling him with the urge to start running again or to draw his gun and not let go. In defiance of both urges and to show himself that he can when the overwhelming terror they'd all experienced had left him immobilized like never before, he leaves his hands by his sides and keeps walking at a steady pace. One foot in front of the other, one note sung after the next. He doesn't sound as good as Rem did or even Kaite when he'd startled Vash by singing the song after so many years of not having heard it. His voice is still a little too shaky, too breathless. He keeps singing anyway.

Being on high alert as he currently is with senses as honed as they are, he feels that distinct sensation of not being alone anymore after a moment and it draws him to a halt. It's harder to see where the footsteps lead through the thicket and who (or what) might be nearby. He fervently hopes it's Vee, but just in case it's not, his hand hovers by his thigh where his holster is hidden under his red coat. He scans the forest around him, feigning casual calmness, and as the song reaches a part without words, he mentally calls out once more as he continues the melody through gentle humming. ]

« Please? We don't have to talk about it, but don't bear it on your own. Not out here all alone. »

[ Not after whatever just happened with that terrifying otherworldly force being out there somewhere. If something were to happen to Vee, if they lost him—

He can't bear to think about it. ]

[skelters]

[ he isn't familiar with the tune, but in a way it reminds vee, a little, of the little radio he'd used to have - now inexplicably lost to the void, of course, as with a lot of other things when he had found himself here all those months ago. it is a similar feeling - of sitting up at night watching the constellated stars in the night sky, straining to catch a thin thread of signal floating in the desert air - the fuzzy static turning into a voice, a song, something fragile managing to still make known its presence. i'm here. i'm sorry. it's okay. you don't have to be alone.

it is a peculiar feeling - he isn't used to it feeling quite like this - that rises like an aftereffects of a burn across him, scalding and throbbing uneasily out of time with his heartbeats, except all on the inside; some restless energy all on edge, like a fizzy bottle stopped up with nowhere to go. maybe, he wants to cry - but he can't. what good would that do anyone? nothing will be better for it. it's more that he has no right to it.

after a pause - letting even the echoes of the unspoken words fade from his mind - vee clears his throat, a little awkwardly. ] Vash.

[ he can't stand in the dark in silence anymore, not when it's clear that the other has caught onto his presence - and it wouldn't do to leave vash in the dark, not knowing who it was exactly that stood there behind the cut of trees obscuring each other from view.

awkwardly stepping around the branches that crunch under his booted feet, vee picks his way around it - his eyes catching the moonlight overhead, making the iridescent lines flicker in and out like fireflies, before he averts his eyes with a dry swallowed click in his throat. he stops short of crossing the clearing - straying to the edge of it. ] I'm sorry.