you can run but you can't escape

[singmod]

THE DARKWALKER COMES

The Darkwalker strikes again. This time, it does not come for one Interloper — but four.

WHEN: March 2nd.
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.

YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN'T ESCAPE

The sun sets on another day in the Northern Territories. The night is calm but cold, scant clouds drifting low in the skies promising snowfall soon. A waning moon sits in the skies amongst its sea of stars, and those looking up may notice it — slowly, one by one, the stars begin to go out.

Then the moon's light is swallowed whole, and a blanket of green gloom descends upon the town of Milton. One more, the sky is dark and green and terrible. Many of those will recognise it, what this means and what will come. Others will not understand it, not know what it is that awaits them all.

They will soon find out: the Darkwalker comes.

Fear washes over you like a cold wave, a vice-tight grip that squeezes the breath from you. 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.

The Darkwalker howls: indescribable, unnatural, demonic. Low moans and groans. It comes from the east, the faint booms of footsteps in the distance growing ever nearer. It is coming, once more. It's coming for one of you. And still, 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.

The footsteps draw closer and closer, and you feel like the ground itself may be threatening splitting open beneath you. It isn't you that it hunts, but you notice its path — a straight line from the east towards Milton Church. 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.

There is an almighty sound; the Darkwalker devours and suddenly the sky is alight: streaks of pale colour shoot across the gloomy green — almost blinding for one long moment. A woman's scream fills the air and then snaps into silence.

The skies return to normal, the green is gone, the fear melts away from you. It is done.

There is no body in the street. Interlopers venturing out will need to go looking for whoever it is that's fallen victim to the Devourer. The answer will be found within Milton Church.

Towards the altar, peppered amongst faint glimmers of intangible green that will fade by morning, lie the twisted and mangled bodies of Nicholas Wolfwood, Millions Knives and both iterations of Vash the Stampede. There's no blood, no physical wounds — simply the contorted bodies that lie dropped like ragdolls. Each of their faces stare with wide eyes, frozen in horror — just as La'an Noonien-Singh was.

The Darkwalker has devoured more. There is a story, told by Methuselah: It is said that the Darkwalker will awake from its slumber and swallow the world whole. One head will swallow the stars and moon and sun. Another will swallow the seas and lakes and rivers. The third will swallow the land, and every living thing upon it — and only then will the Darkwalker be satisfied and return to sleep once more.

It feels as if the Darkwalker is making good on its story: one by one, it will devour you all whole. And now the Interlopers of Milton must grapple with more death.

FAQs

1. Essentially, a 'party post' for reactions to the Darkwalker's attack, the immediate aftermath, and any funerary preparations. Have... fun???

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

3. An OOC Rundown for the original Darkwalker's attack, which includes some FAQs can be found here.

4. Notes about the characters:

Wolfwood: He doesn't leave any messages behind. Folks are welcome to go through his house, which is the cabin by the pond -- there's nothing in there of his, and the only changes he made to the house was pulling a twin bed over in front of the fireplace. The wall of the cabin is also scorched from inside, from where his Lightbringer power erupted at one point.

Vash The Stampede (Trigun Stampede): He really didn't have much belongings or anything in particular of note, so it is a free for all situation in terms of possessions.

Vash The Stampede (Trigun Maximum): He'll be leaving behind his meager belongings. all of it can be found on either his person or in the church's living quarters which is also decently stocked with foraged foods. alas he's prepared no messages because he is absolutely atrocious at saying goodbyes.

Millions Knives: He'll leave behind sharpened hunting and skinning knives (hah), some fishing equipment, and scattered feathers around the church.

Comments

[moralabsolutism]

[Rorschach hung back from the four bodies. He wasn't unused to death. He'd lived with it night after night for too many years now to be completely shocked by it. The other emotions that went with seeing a bunch of bodies, however, those he could do without. Feeling a certain helplessness that this had happened again, frustration that the godlike creature who did this could not be stopped, and that sense of (undeserved) guilt that once again he'd been unable to keep the people here safe.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he couldn't even muster up his usual hostility towards the Russian. He merely nodded, silent as he stood back with his hands in his pockets. However, the thoughts that raced through his head were filtering in and out like a radio signal that was too far away to fully pick up.]

....not again......and who will be next....should been able to....why does it come....can't protect anyone from anything here....

[sputnik]

[ It would be impossible not to notice the very distinctive countenance of the man who'd once interrogated him with such hostility — if "countenance" is even the right word for it; the stranger still wears that odd mask, leaving him looking uncomfortably featureless.

Konstantin tenses for a moment, but the odd words he hears give him pause, and it's enough to have him looking away from the bodies his attention was fixed to, glancing around the church at the thin crowd of lingering spectators. He startles a little when he realises it's that man's voice, but... fainter, like little blips of a thing, a station he can't quite tune in to, only getting parts of it.

'can't protect anyone from anything here'

The cosmonaut stands from his crouch, eyeing Rorschach as he approaches him, carefully. He could almost swear that.... this was coming from somewhere else. But that doesn't make any sense. ]

Did you... say something? Just now.

[ Probably a bad idea to instigate conversation with this man, but Konstantin has never been one to play things particularly safely. Not for long. ]

[moralabsolutism]

[Fortunately for Konstantin, Rorschach was in no mood to intimidate or bully anyone that was in the room. At moments like this, full of death and destruction, he tended to withdraw and go very quiet. It was better than feeling everything to the extent that he actually could.

He knew what the general population both back home and here saw him as. Some paranoid nut, a lunatic in a mask, someone three seconds away from killing someone if they pushed him too far. None of them, not a single one realized the extent to which he felt things on an emotional level. It's why his mind was structured so rigidly in its black-and-white thinking. Without it, he'd have to face the world as the cruel, heartless place it often was and that was just too much for him to deal with. So this was as best he could function right now.

As for Konstantin's question, after dealing with his strange curse for over a month now, he had a fairly good idea of why the Communist was asking him this. Clearly, some of his thoughts had been filtering through despite his desire to keep a tight lid on them. Rather than explain, he just shook his head slowly and silently.

Technically, it was the truth. He hadn't said anything, not out loud at least. But another thought, a tendril that just gently brushed across the minds of anyone around him who could hear it, came forth.]

Why is death always so senseless and cruel?

[sputnik]

[ The strange man shakes his head, and Konstantin stares at him, brows quirked upwards, unsure what to make of any of this. Is the man toying with him? About to revert back to the hostility he'd so quickly become acquainted with?

Instead, there's another one of those odd fragments of sound — not truly sound, more like something coming from inside. Like it's in his mind, not his ears. The cosmonaut doesn't startle easily, but this place has tested him in ways he never quite expected. Impossible ways. He looks around again, before his eyes lock onto Rorschach. He stares for a moment longer, and then slowly his gaze returns to the bodies. This time, his words come out quiet, somber, but thoughtful. ]

I don't know. I think sometimes death can be a mercy.

[ ....A pause, the frown at the edges of his mouth deepening a little. ]

Perhaps it's better to die than to live a life of suffering. Are we sure that whatever is doing this isn't trying to put us out of our misery?

[moralabsolutism]

[Rorschach gave an audible sigh. There really was no guarding his thoughts at the moment, not when his emotional state was kicked into overdrive. He might as well have been saying what he thought out loud for all that he was able to hide them from the Communist at the moment.

Since he wasn't getting around broadcasting his thoughts anytime soon, he might as well just project what he was thinking with more purpose as it stood.

Rorschach knew all about how death could be a mercy for some people and a punishment for others. From what he was witnessing here, he sure as hell didn't think that whatever was doing this was interested in being merciful in any sense of the word. He aimed his words at Konstantin, the thoughts much more coherent and sentences less choppy than the ones he usually spoke out loud.]

If that's what you want, I can offer it to you quicker than whatever this thing is willing to do. And with less pain.