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singillatim2024-03-02 12:17 am
singmod) wrote in singillatim2024-03-02 12:17 am
you can run but you can't escape
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.
cw: mention of decapitation in narration
For all the bad and worry that having her in this place summons, there's something nice in having someone around who understands him so instinctively. Someone he doesn't have to explain all of this to, especially when they'd only understand it in a theoretical sense, not in the lived sense that he and her share.
His frown grows a little though when she speaks up again after that. ]
No, it's gone again for now. There's periods between its appearances. First time it showed up was in a dream we had, a few months ago. Then two months ago it killed a woman. And now-- [ There's the relief that it wasn't Snow, but-- what if it was someone else he knows? He's grown so familiar with this community over his stay. ] -- now there are more people dead somewhere in town, I imagine.
[ The news will reach them soon, he figures. Especially since they're at the community hall. Someone will announce the casualities soon.
His heart feels heavy. It's reflected in his eyes, even if his body language is still tougher than that, knowing he has to be tough right now, regardless of everything else. ]
You know when it's around, because it spreads that feeling every single time. Like it's hard to even move. [ Bigby inhales. ] Are you sure you're fine, Snow? I..
[ He falters a little in his words, then continues. ]
I know you're tough. But I know how awful that feeling is. It makes you think of the worst shit possible. [ And if it even can affect Bigby, when he can't even recall the last time he felt truly afraid other than that moment he saw what he thought was Snow's decapitated head on the doorsteps of the Woodlands-- Then it must be an even shittier feeling to everyone else. To her, too. ]
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Still, the heaviness in his expression is one that she wishes she could relieve for him, especially when they'd already sustained their own hardships back in Fabletown not too long ago. It's a more distant memory for him by comparison to what she last recalls, but it seems like there's only so long either of them can bear this level of struggle before they reach their breaking point.
She doesn't hold the same perception of who these other people are yet, doesn't know them the same way he does — and she recognizes that the pain of loss will be keener for him, as sharp and punctuating as what the Darkwalker had summoned before. ]
Why do I feel like I should be asking you that?
[ For not the first time since her arrival, she's thinking about how long he's been stuck here without any indication of when he'll be able to go home — how long he's been dealing with all of this. Surely he's had other people to confide in — she can't claim sole rights to that — but the longer she looks over him, the more she wonders how much he's been forced to keep buried inside simply because there are no other Fables here who would understand it all.
She hasn't strayed too far from him, and reaching out a hand to gently, carefully clasp his is a purely instinctive thing, grounding herself not only in that physical contact but also trying to offer him some wordless semblance of reassurance. ]
I'll be fine. [ She offers a smile that doesn't fully reach her eyes, but her hand squeezes his. ] We both will, right?
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[ It's like everything else melts away for a moment when she grabs his hand like that. For how strong Bigby is - because even without being a Fable here, without really being a wolf, let alone the Big Bad Wolf, he's still pretty strong even by mundy terms - there's absolutely no resistance to it at all. He lets his hand be taken right into hers like there's no strength into it, like a tame sheep.
Because.. he wants it. There really is something so comforting in even this simple gesture of her holding his hand, in the lingering phantom feeling of the way she was leaning against him earlier. Even back home, for all the chaos that had been going on, it had all felt easier whenever she was near him.
It makes things feel simple. It makes it feel like he can just focus on her for a moment, and not think about the bigger awful situation they have gotten themselves stuck in. ]
Yeah. You're strong. [ His voice is dipping into something softer. A part of him wants to just.. say it. To let her know that he can be strong exactly because she's here with him, because she inspires him.
But it's entirely too much. He hasn't been able to say those words for centuries, why would he suddenly be able to start now? So.. ] .. and you know I'm strong too. We'll be fine.
[ He inhales. Then - slowly - exhales.
Bigby still doesn't make any move to pull his hand out of her grasp. ]
I-- You can see now why I wish you weren't here. [ There's nothing harsh about his words. He sounds worried, but not in his usual gruff way, where it's covered up with a layer of anger. Instead it just sounds plain worried. Back home things were dangerous enough, but this place? It's like dealing with the Adversary all over again, except they're even less equipped to do anything. ] .. but..
[ ...
This gets really close to what he wanted to say. It's not close enough that he can't say it at all, but it is close enough that it still makes him a little nervous to voice it when it comes to her. ]
I'm glad you're here anyway.
[ It's the truth. ]
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These days, she feels like a far cry from the woman she'd been back then, someone who hadn't been able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now, she knows she's capable of surviving awful things because she's already been through them. It doesn't make them any less easy to endure when they happen, but she can pride herself on being made of stronger stuff. What matters here, though, is that Bigby doesn't view her as a victim, doesn't handle her like she's something fragile. She wouldn't accept it if he tried.
In the moment, even once she realizes she's still holding his hand, and that he hasn't moved to pull away from her, she doesn't look down at their shared clasping — as if bringing attention to it might make it feel more significant somehow, beyond just attempting to offer comfort. ]
I know, but it doesn't change the fact that I am.
[ Her voice is still soft, but there's an insistence in it too — even if he would've readily protected her from experiencing this, neither of them is powerful enough to send her back home, and more than that, she's not sure she would be willing to return if it meant knowingly leaving him behind, either.
His words do elicit a half-smile from her, a quiet chuckle, and she finally uses her free hand to pat the top of the one she's still holding onto before slipping out of that clasp altogether. ]
Kind of feels like being partners again, doesn't it? Only instead of trying to solve a murder, we're trying to solve... whatever the hell this place is.
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He doesn't mention a thing about it, though. Of course he doesn't. This is exactly the sort of thing Bigby has kept to himself for so long that it's just easier to do this than to actually say anything at this point. ]
Except this time we already know one culprit.
[ He flexes the fingers of his hand a little, like he's remembering the ghost of her touch there, and then pulls his arms back to himself to cross them across his chest. ]
Not that I think the Darkwalker is what dragged us here. It wants us gone, after all. So as far as I see, what we can do here is both track down the real force behind our arrival here, and find some way of dealing with the Darkwalker before it hurts even more people in this place.
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[ She doesn't voice it like a question, but a statement — because of course, being here longer than she has, Bigby would have already come up with his own theory about what's really going on. Even in the midst of so much that's uncertain, so much she feels like she doesn't understand, having Bigby here, standing in front of her, with a firm idea of where they should start looking for answers, lends a bit of comfort all on its own.
Her gaze briefly strays to the movement of his forearms as he folds them over his front, the dark hair that covers them, a reminder of the wolf within, the beast that's still a part of him even though he's been denied the ability to fully transform. For a moment, she wishes she hadn't let go of his hand. ]
And Methuselah... he's as in the dark about why we've all been brought here as everyone else is?
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It seems so. Can't tell for sure, obviously. [ Especially when Bigby has encountered so many people with something to hide in his line of work. It makes it pretty hard to not think about what other people could be hiding as well - especially people that aren't part of their group, that didn't get pulled into this place the way they did. ]
But so far he's seemed nothing but good. He brings way more food over than we've got here in town whenever the new people show up, and he has answered some of people's questions about this place. Even if he doesn't know how we ended up here, he at least knows some stuff about the lay of the land and all.
[ Which could just be to try and pacify them, sure, but-- Bigby's mind always gets stuck on the food whenever he considers that. It's an awful lot of effort to do every single time, when Bigby is pretty sure the goodwill towards the guy would have lingered even if he had only done it once or twice. ]
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[ Besides, how many Fables have something of a reputation for presenting themselves as friendly at first glance, only to reveal much more sinister intentions underneath that well-meaning facade? Some of the most famous stories that they feature in contain villains who disguise themselves as heroes, evil queens who pretend to be kind-hearted. Snow herself knows the terrible truth that can hide in plain sight almost more than anyone, considering her past.
But she doesn't want to accuse Methuselah of having bad intentions without anything to point to as proof, and she doesn't want her own history to influence any preconceived notions, either. It's more telling, at least, that she's relying on Bigby's assessment to inform her next steps here, but if anyone has a strong sense of being able to sniff out the truth, it's the wolf standing in front of her now. ]
I don't know. I'm just... so tired. [ She chuckles hollowly, briefly reaching up to sweep a few strands of dark hair back from her forehead. ] Remember when we thought the most we'd have to deal with was trying to get Fabletown back on track, after everything?
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Methuselah could have nefarious intentions. He could also be well-meaning. Even though Bigby leans a little more towards the latter, he will easily admit it's hard, if not impossible to tell for sure.
Maybe it's why he doesn't say anything more about it right now. He can see how tired Snow is feeling, and though Bigby doesn't get physically as easily tired anymore in this place ever since the recent Aurora, he does feel mentally tired. He's not sure he wants to immediately know which community member they lost.
.. so he just lets out a slight affirmative hum to the last thing she says, then sighs. ]
Do you want to try and sleep some more? [ The Darkwalker did kind of interrupt their nightly rest, on top of it all.. ] If you feel like you might not be able to, I-- um.
[ G-Give him a second. He rubs the back of his neck, stammering a little more than the usual. ]
I could stay here, if that would-- if it'd help.
[ Not to lean into guard dog stereotypes, but.. well. You know. Bigby is just kind of like one big guard dog. He's not sure if his presence would make her feel safer after all of this, but he does know he would feel better if he could watch over her in the wake of that. Bigby is still feeling pretty shaky too. ]
There's a chair, I'd be fine.
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I don't know that I could — [ She starts to protest before he can finish his words, only to fall silent when he offers to essentially stay here and watch over her so she can get some needed shuteye.
It's a suggestion that she can't immediately dismiss, not when she knows part of the reason she feels less capable of dealing with all of this is because it's the middle of the night and it was the Darkwalker responsible for pulling her out of sleep in the first place. Even now, she's still trying to shake those lingering feelings of dread, of fear, and the thought of having to lay back down and try to quiet her mind again is something she doesn't want to navigate alone. ]
... okay.
[ Although her first instinct is to protest him sitting in the chair, rather than making himself more comfortable, deep down she knows he'll insist. So instead of fighting him on that point, she pauses, looking to him, her gaze saying a myriad of things that don't actually make it out before she starts moving back towards her cot, the frame creaking as she settles down onto it and then draws the covers back to tuck her legs underneath. ] Thank you.
that's a wrap on this one! <3
Maybe deep down there's a bit of guilt that he isn't immediately getting involved with the post-Darkwalker investigation, but.. maybe he wants to be selfish for once. Maybe he wants to choose the one person that matters more to him than anyone over the town for now.
So when she moves to lie back down and thanks him, he just replies with: ]
No problem, Snow.
[ Anything for you, he doesn't say.
Instead the man moves over to the chair he spotted, sitting down there. Considering the time and the way the sun is already out so little here these days, it's still dark in the room, but Bigby still sits there quietly and surveys the room, watching the door to make sure no one gets in. .. and looking at Snow in the bed too, sometimes.
He'll stay there for as long as she needs. ]
dropping one more in to close us out!
But she doesn't say anything about it, even if there's a brief impulse to try and break the silence, to speak into the darkness once she reaches over and turns off the small light on the makeshift table beside the bed. In the darkness, she's aware of her own breathing, the slightest groan of the bedframe, while he seems to remain quiet and unmoving. She wonders, for a moment, whether he can still see in the dark even if he can't fully transform into the wolf anymore, whether he can see her lying awake, her eyes open, as she inhales slowly and then exhales just as slowly.
For a little while, she turns her head towards where he's sitting, waiting long enough that her eyes adjust to the darkness and she can see his silhouette in the chair, the outline of his head and shoulders. She glances in his direction right up until she feels her lids begin to droop, and when she finally drifts off to sleep, her breathing evening out, the last thought that crosses her mind is whether the chair will be empty by the time she wakes in the morning. ]