001 - Hello, World - Week Two | CW: insects

[snaggletooth]

[ A buzzing besets the wearers of masks, building and building. Then, the moment it seems impossible for it to become any louder, it stops. Like an approaching swarm that's ceased all aggression in an instant. There's still something sitting there behind this sudden cessation, however, hidden in the shifting blackness of the mind. A presence, just arrived, awaiting a turn to speak. ]

Hello, please pardon my intrusion. My name is Ivan. I'm standing at the entrance to Grand Central Station.

Before I head below, there's something I believe I should do for my own safety. With an appearance like mine, it would be easy for those of you I've yet to meet to mistake me for one of those other mindless things that live down there, in the dark. That's why I'm going to show myself to all of you now. It may be startling, so I apologize.

Please, brace yourself.

[ There is movement in the mind's eye. There is a light that switches on, illuminating an oily mass that goes on and on, disappearing off in the depths of the dark plane. Nothing gives it scale except for the distinct sense that it is looming, this terrible silhouette that terminates in the pale, placid face of a young man. It looks like a porcelain doll's head has been torn off and placed atop a nightmarish effigy.

He sways softly before allowing himself to fade away once again. ]

There, ahaha... if you're still hearing this, then I have to thank you for at least humoring me.

I realize that my gesture doesn't give anyone a reason to trust I'm not as bad as the next abomination you run into. I won't begrudge you, whatever your decision. There is one piece of guidance I can offer though. It doesn't even require dealing with me in person, fortunately for all.

Just concentrate with me — for one more moment.

[ He's not usually the one to do this. That person has concerningly not been present. At the end of the moment he requested, your thoughts are pulled along, beyond anywhere you thought to direct them. You can resist and the sensation will simply dissipate, but allow yourself to be lead and all will also be well. At the end of the line is a susurrating knot of voices speaking over one another. Echoes that, with just a bit of focus, become clearer. Individual. ]

If this information proves useful, send your regards to the young man named Megumi.

( NOTE: This message will be sent out once the Veteran's nightmares begin leading them to the tunnels. Ivan will be actively searching while communicating and can be intercepted by other characters in the area. His close companion Till may also respond and/or can optionally appear if a conversation thread is converted to action. )

Comments

Violence and body horror cont.

[untilldeath]

[The stench hits first—thick and nauseating, a cloying reek of rot that singes his nostrils and settles in the back of his throat. There’s no time to dwell on it, no time to gag or look away, because the fungus-riddled corpse lurches forward in a way no body ever should.

It shouldn’t still be moving. By all logic it should be nothing more than a husk, but whatever has infested it clearly never got the message.

And suddenly, there are more behind them, grotesque shapes dragging themselves out of the gloom. He lets Ivan deal with them for the moment, just as he requested.]

What the fuck? Were they just waiting to try and trap us?

[Power prickles at his fingertips, a sharp, almost electric tingle as light pools bright and lethal in his palms. He hurls it toward the original creature in a series of weaponized blasts, each one meant to tear it apart in an attempt to reduce its corrupted body to nothing but scattered smoldering pieces.

Before he ever has to call on the heavy, weighted bat he keeps for protection, he’d rather do whatever he can first to prevent the freak from getting anywhere near him.]

[markingnight]

Or maybe we've disturbed their nest.

[ Either way, Ironeye wasn't shy about advancing. He set about dispatching the creatures with sword and dagger, and to this purpose he applied himself with coldblooded efficiency.

A lightfooted backstep to slip from the grab of a nearby Host. For the quickest of the creatures came a strike to its limbs to dismantle its ability to pursue. And if a creature strayed too close or too fast to one of his companions, a storm gust would serve to buffet them backward.

With two charges, it was not about glory or speed. It was about control of the battlefield, breaking down the ranks of the enemy so they could be slaughtered as easily and safely as possible. They were three against many, after all. They could ill afford injury. ]

[snaggletooth]

[ Ivan stands his ground before the small horde of hosts. Just as it looks as though they're all about to converge on him at once, they're denied, wind out of nowhere staggering their advance. Some are thrown, some fall. Another continues to take steps forward into the flurry as if in slow motion.

It's that one that Ivan focuses on first... and proceeds to almost casually, calmly take apart. He's only just laid his hands on the limbs the host would've used to grab him when the bones snap, ligaments pulling away from them like wet paper. In a second it lies dismembered by monstrous strength.

Another host approaches. Another head goes rolling.

It does not yet look like Ivan is in very much trouble. ]

[untilldeath]

[The gruesome sound of flesh tearing from sinew and bone as the hosts are dismembered and torn apart is a sound Till has to block out. Even his own actions are gruesome enough that if he stops to think about it much, the brutality of it all could make him sick.

What lay before them wouldn't hesitate to kill, though, so they have no choice but to use whatever they have at their disposal to dispatch of the almost pitiful beings.

He wonders what they were once like, before Sleep crept into their hearts and hollowed out their brains.

When the last one falls, Till sags with a breath of relief, hands braced on his knees. Wielding his powers underground, where light is a scarce and fickle thing, is exhausting. After a few moments, he forces himself to look up, checking on his companions.

They look all right. Ivan doesn’t seem badly hurt, either. Till would know if he was.]

. . . I hope the rest of the trip isn't gonna be like that.

[How are Lortel and the others trapped here faring, if this is the welcome they receive?]

hey you guys want to FTB since everyone's hiatus?

[markingnight]

[ Watching Ivan work out of the corner of his peripheral vision, Ironeye was reminded of a man he'd once seen dismantling a boiled crab at an old shack by the seaside. He'd rendered a messy affair systematic as he'd sucked the meat from the chitinous outer shell, leaving not a shred of soft white flesh behind. The assassin had marveled at his technique, and resolved to dispatch the man with the same neat efficiency.

When there were no survivors, Ironeye calmly wiped his blade clean using the fold of his sleeve, and replaced his weapon. Owing to his close proximity to the creatures, he was mostly covered in blood. However, he seemed perfectly calm. ]

Let's look on the bright side. Less to worry about on the way out.

[ Ha... ha ha... ]