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

[lanfeared]

"We share what we discover here. The way it's been from the beginning, between us." Calling back to their encounter in the hot springs is purposeful, not just to remind him of all that had transpired between them there but to reference the common thread that seems to dictate those encounters — exchanging information, especially in conversations where they are the only two within earshot.

Such opportunities are more common in a smaller town like this one, but what she's suggesting has a bit more intention behind it — that they'd seek each other out directly if they learn something new, as part of a possible alliance. She doesn't shrink away beneath his touch as he brushes that hair behind her ear, brows arching slightly.

"Whether about this place and its mysteries, or any new arrivals that might be worth keeping a better eye on."

[salamanca]

Lalo doesn't answer right away. He keeps his eyes trained on her eyes, but there's still something about him that suggests the air of a man looking her up and down. He can think of a few people he would want to know about, if they arrived in town. People he'd want to get the drop on. Family he'd want to protect.

That's not the only question he has, though.

"And, if I may... what do you plan to do with this information?" There's a reason she wants this information exchanged in secrecy, and Lalo knows it's the same reason that brought her here.

[lanfeared]

Lanfear has the rising sense that whatever happens next entirely depends on her words, but she also suspects that he's at least willing to hear her out — whether rooted in his own curiosity or some other deep-seated motivation that she simply hasn't figured out for herself yet.

"I believe you know as well as I do that oftentimes, information can be its own form of power," she replies, more straightforwardly than she has been through any of their other conversations.

"Whether you intend to do something with the information you possess in the present moment or wait for the right time to wield that knowledge later matters less than simply having it. But more than that, I believe you'd be a worthy ally in this place." Now, it's her turn to reach for him, to lightly notch a pale hand into his until her knuckles are grazing his palm. "Am I mistaken?"

[salamanca]

He likes the way her knuckles just barely touch the warm flesh of his palm. It feels nice. What she's saying makes sense but he studies her intently. He knows now, in a way that he didn't when he first met her, that she likely has ulterior motives. That anything gained from her won't come easy. Or cheap.

Then again, isn't he the same way?

He holds her gaze with intensity. Lightly, his hand closes around hers, careful not to crush.

"Not at all," he answers her.

[lanfeared]

Something softens in her gaze, but it could have just as easily hardened if he'd denied her implication, declined her unspoken offer of allegiance before she'd even had the opportunity to fully extend it. As far as Lanfear is concerned, he's made the right decision, but whether that choice is the result of him simply wanting to get closer to her or because he believes she'll be just as valuable an ally remains to be seen. It doesn't matter how close she lets him get to her, though; no one will ever earn the privilege of making it past her walls completely, not in this place.

That doesn't mean that she can't let herself appear willing to welcome him in, and slowly, she extends her fingers until she can slot them through the spaces in between his, interlocking their hands more definitively as she steps forward, into his space.

"You should know that you can trust me." (He can't.) "And I want to know that I can trust you." (She won't.)

[salamanca]

"You should know you can trust me."

Yeah, right. Lalo would snort, but that wouldn't be gentlemanly, now would it? Instead, he gives her an indulgent, warm sort of look. Her hands are soft and smooth interlocked with this, and he appreciates that feeling.

"Of course you can trust me," Lalo lies smoothly.

[lanfeared]

Lanfear knows only to take his words at face value; too many people would just as soon betray each other or pull out the metaphorical knife to stab another in the back than do anything honorable. Men, in particular, have their own ulterior motives, and it's for that reason alone she knows she can't underestimate him.

But her hand remains secure in his, and her smile appears soft and genuine when she lifts her chin to regard him directly.

"I thought that would be the case as soon as I laid eyes on you, Lalo. But the pieces of yourself you shared with me in the springs proved that my suspicions were correct." Her smile adopts a more private quality then, a light flush in her cheeks that references their other pursuit in the springs, the pleasures they'd experienced together.