((continued from earlier))
He saw it.
Evan fucking saw it.
From the makeshift barricade at the entrance to the building, he'd watched the village. Waiting for any sign of the Prototypes, the other Participants, or the mercenaries. There had been some sparse gunshots, and screaming. He'd heard inhuman wails, but nothing he could say came from a monster. He'd heard foxes screaming at night, it wasn't too far off.
There wasn't any mistaking what he'd seen lurking between the buildings that morning. It wasn't the creature they'd shown on the video, but something different. It walked on two legs, and must've been nine or ten feet tall. The few inches of snow that had fallen that morning didn't seem to slow it down, as it trudged out of the Armoury and made its way to one of the Dormitories. The announcement said they'd wounded it. If that was the Chimera, it sure didn't look any worse for wear.
There wasn't any mistaking it now. In idle moments he'd seriously considered if only the death-game part of this was real, if the monsters were part of some sort of misinformation designed to make them turn on one another. Seeing that thing trudging across the snow certainly put that to rest. Part of him had wanted to take a pot-shot at the creature, but he didn't have enough confidence in his marksmanship abilities. Beyond that, part of him wasn't sure a rifle - even one meant to kill dangerous game - was enough to take something like that down.
Maybe he was just a coward. It wasn’t the worst thing he could be right now.
The group had piled any debris they couldn't burn into a makeshift barricade at the entrance. With the doors shut, Evan watched through a broken window, the barrel of his rifle resting on an overturned steel desk. The idea was to keep watch in rotation, but the truth was that Evan had let his shifts go on longer than he'd initially suggested. It wasn't that he didn't trust the others to keep watch; he just had a hard time sleeping or sitting in one place without a task to attend to. Much as it had seemed like a big job while they were doing it, they had enough fuel from the furniture and papers in the building to last them at least another day or two.
He shivered. If the monsters didn't get them first, the cold would. At no point was it going to be above freezing, and that meant having to leave this place was tantamount to suicide. There were already a few inches of snow piling up on the concrete steps outside, and the few open windows in the place were beginning to cake with ice.
Evan felt a curious tingling in his palms, before looking down and realizing he’d been holding onto his mug of chili altogether too tightly.
“Ah - fuck.”
Adjusting his grip on the handle, he stirred the MRE-stew and took a tentative sporkful of the meal. It was okay. It was warm, at least.
If he could swing it, he’d have preferred not to die cold and starving.
This Place is Not a Place of Honor
Private - No Great Deeds Are Commemorated Here
Moderator: SOTF U Staff
This Place is Not a Place of Honor
SOTF: U
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
((Zandah Udall continued from I've Blown Up EVERYTHING In Here!))
Zandah was pretty sure it had been his turn to take watch for a while now, but he hadn't been summoned, and so he'd procrastinated on doing anything about it for a while. It wasn't out of laziness. It wasn't like he was getting rest while off duty. Sleep had been inconsistent, a mix of terror and glumness and the cold keeping him from ever getting a solid eight hour block, but when he was on guard duty he had to try his best to pay attention, and that somehow felt very taxing, even though he probably didn't do as good a job as the others.
It had been long enough now, though, that Zandah's conscience outweighed his apathy and desire to avoid moving, and so he scooped up his pirate gun and made his way towards where Evan was stationed, steps quiet against the cold floor.
For a few long seconds, Zandah stood there in the doorway, watching but not saying anything. He wondered how Evan was holding up, but wasn't sure he'd be able to respond in a useful or intelligent way to any answer other than "better than the rest of the group," so he didn't say anything.
Frankly, he was surprised they'd lasted as long as they had, with no incidents or attacks or significant squabbles. They'd heard sounds of violence, and had faced the usual anxiety of long periods with little action, but nothing bad had actually happened.
In its own way, that was as wearisome as disaster. Anticipation could be painful too.
Shaking himself out of his funk, at least slightly, Zandah gazed through the lenses of his sunglasses at Evan, and finally spoke up.
"Anything change out there?"
Zandah was pretty sure it had been his turn to take watch for a while now, but he hadn't been summoned, and so he'd procrastinated on doing anything about it for a while. It wasn't out of laziness. It wasn't like he was getting rest while off duty. Sleep had been inconsistent, a mix of terror and glumness and the cold keeping him from ever getting a solid eight hour block, but when he was on guard duty he had to try his best to pay attention, and that somehow felt very taxing, even though he probably didn't do as good a job as the others.
It had been long enough now, though, that Zandah's conscience outweighed his apathy and desire to avoid moving, and so he scooped up his pirate gun and made his way towards where Evan was stationed, steps quiet against the cold floor.
For a few long seconds, Zandah stood there in the doorway, watching but not saying anything. He wondered how Evan was holding up, but wasn't sure he'd be able to respond in a useful or intelligent way to any answer other than "better than the rest of the group," so he didn't say anything.
Frankly, he was surprised they'd lasted as long as they had, with no incidents or attacks or significant squabbles. They'd heard sounds of violence, and had faced the usual anxiety of long periods with little action, but nothing bad had actually happened.
In its own way, that was as wearisome as disaster. Anticipation could be painful too.
Shaking himself out of his funk, at least slightly, Zandah gazed through the lenses of his sunglasses at Evan, and finally spoke up.
"Anything change out there?"
((Glenda also from there))
Glenda wasn't doing great.
Staying in the same place for this long was starting to take a toll. It wasn't cabin fever, it was having too much time to think. The campfire singing they'd done, that had probably helped stave off the effects for this long, but Glenda was a dweller, and if ever there was a situation to dwell upon, this was it.
Glenda wished the guitar hadn't got burned. She felt as if that would help. It would have been kind of not on to blame Evan for what he chose to do with his instrument though, so she'd bitten back on saying anything about that.
The problem with Glenda was the same one she'd always had, which was turning passion into concrete action. Passion was easy, making a difference was hard. One person could only do so much, and sure there was value in making small, meaningful impacts, but...
Nobody ever set out to be the girl who 'kinda helped out'. Yeah okay she put more effort into helping the community than most, but that wasn't effecting a systemic change. Somehow she always imagined that she'd be more important than fronting a small fry band and nicking the occasional bag of shopping from the corpos. Definitely didn't imagine that she'd end up in frozen hellscape waiting to get merked by The Thing.
She could hear a couple of voices. Very quiet, maybe not even conversation. She listlessly fed a chunk of scrap wood to the fire.
Yeah.
Glenda wasn't doing great.
Glenda wasn't doing great.
Staying in the same place for this long was starting to take a toll. It wasn't cabin fever, it was having too much time to think. The campfire singing they'd done, that had probably helped stave off the effects for this long, but Glenda was a dweller, and if ever there was a situation to dwell upon, this was it.
Glenda wished the guitar hadn't got burned. She felt as if that would help. It would have been kind of not on to blame Evan for what he chose to do with his instrument though, so she'd bitten back on saying anything about that.
The problem with Glenda was the same one she'd always had, which was turning passion into concrete action. Passion was easy, making a difference was hard. One person could only do so much, and sure there was value in making small, meaningful impacts, but...
Nobody ever set out to be the girl who 'kinda helped out'. Yeah okay she put more effort into helping the community than most, but that wasn't effecting a systemic change. Somehow she always imagined that she'd be more important than fronting a small fry band and nicking the occasional bag of shopping from the corpos. Definitely didn't imagine that she'd end up in frozen hellscape waiting to get merked by The Thing.
She could hear a couple of voices. Very quiet, maybe not even conversation. She listlessly fed a chunk of scrap wood to the fire.
Yeah.
Glenda wasn't doing great.
((Same bat place, same bat time))
Sleep. Sleep? Maybe. Well...no. It was actually the lack thereof, Naomi didn't get much sleep at all. No...none.
Shit sucked.
Naomi sniffed the air, breathing in as fresh as air could be. She felt sick all night - prevented her from really getting a good night sleep.
Maybe today would be a better day. Where everything would change. Maybe today would actually be a day, where something good happens. No cowering or shivering. No, today she'll make a point to get to know the others. Be a good groupmate.
Yeah.
Naomi wasn't doing great. But maybe it'll be better?
Sleep. Sleep? Maybe. Well...no. It was actually the lack thereof, Naomi didn't get much sleep at all. No...none.
Shit sucked.
Naomi sniffed the air, breathing in as fresh as air could be. She felt sick all night - prevented her from really getting a good night sleep.
Maybe today would be a better day. Where everything would change. Maybe today would actually be a day, where something good happens. No cowering or shivering. No, today she'll make a point to get to know the others. Be a good groupmate.
Yeah.
Naomi wasn't doing great. But maybe it'll be better?
Evan started to speak, attempting some sort of rambling explanation.
"Well - there's something out there. Not the spider bear, although maybe it is? I read the cheat sheet they gave us on the Chimera and it's apparently able to adapt to shit and - well something that looked like it walked across there. It was uhh - it didn't look happy I mean."
He cradled the rifle in his arms, stealing a glance out at the town square.
"I thought maybe of taking a shot at it but like - what if I missed or just pissed it off? I uh, wasn't gonna risk it so I let it go. Big fella just sorta... fucked off to the Powerhouse I think."
Shifting uneasily in his seat, Evan realized he was finding his toes a bit colder than he wanted. He stood up, and began to pace slowly.
"But yeah... Other than that everything's uhh, normal. Cold as shit. Heard a few gunshots. Typical death game shit. Kinda feels like, unfair sort of. We're riding it out here while bad shit happens out there. I don't wanna complain, just-"
A sigh. He felt more present today, now that it had all set in a bit. It wasn't clear to him how long that was going to last before something else triggered a response and he fell back into survival mode.
For now he had enough of a presence of mind to dwell and feel guilty about not doing more to help. At least, he'd been able to help keep himself and the others a bit warmer and safer than they'd started.
"Eh, whatever. How are you holding up? Glenda and Naomi still by the fire?"
"Well - there's something out there. Not the spider bear, although maybe it is? I read the cheat sheet they gave us on the Chimera and it's apparently able to adapt to shit and - well something that looked like it walked across there. It was uhh - it didn't look happy I mean."
He cradled the rifle in his arms, stealing a glance out at the town square.
"I thought maybe of taking a shot at it but like - what if I missed or just pissed it off? I uh, wasn't gonna risk it so I let it go. Big fella just sorta... fucked off to the Powerhouse I think."
Shifting uneasily in his seat, Evan realized he was finding his toes a bit colder than he wanted. He stood up, and began to pace slowly.
"But yeah... Other than that everything's uhh, normal. Cold as shit. Heard a few gunshots. Typical death game shit. Kinda feels like, unfair sort of. We're riding it out here while bad shit happens out there. I don't wanna complain, just-"
A sigh. He felt more present today, now that it had all set in a bit. It wasn't clear to him how long that was going to last before something else triggered a response and he fell back into survival mode.
For now he had enough of a presence of mind to dwell and feel guilty about not doing more to help. At least, he'd been able to help keep himself and the others a bit warmer and safer than they'd started.
"Eh, whatever. How are you holding up? Glenda and Naomi still by the fire?"
SOTF: U
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
"I'm fine," Zandah said. It was an ingrained response from years of working with the public. Presumably Evan could figure out that it was all relative, and also possibly a lie. Zandah also almost reciprocated the question, but was able to stop himself; he could glean a little from the interaction so far, and Evan seemed to be doing comparatively okay, so no need to make him also give the obligatory reply or, worse, go off-script.
"And they are," Zandah said. "I don't think anyone's getting—I mean, I think they're awake right now."
These were banalities. Evan had said something far more important: he'd read the info on the threats here with them. Zandah had not done that. He'd glanced at it on the first day, and then had ignored the Pip Boy except when it actively beeped at him, at which point he'd done whatever was needed to make it acknowledge that he'd viewed the notification, like snoozing an alarm on his phone for the dozenth time.
It wasn't easy to pretend that it wasn't strapped to his arm, changing the weight of even casual movements and sometimes knocking against something when he didn't expect it, but if there was one special talent Zandah had it was not actually inhabiting his body except in the brief moments when he was forced to, and otherwise existing as a viewpoint and a set of feelings, sort of a cloud that would experience sensations without entirely connecting them to itself. "The arm is heavy" instead of "My arm i heavy," that sort of thing. But part of that was that doing something obvious and important for survival, like reading up on what they were pitted against, simply wouldn't occur to him. He'd be physically staring at the screen and not seeing it at all.
"Maybe we should go check on them?" he added. "Let them know about the, uh..."
He waved a hand vaguely, not even bothering to try to represent the monsters in charades.
"And they are," Zandah said. "I don't think anyone's getting—I mean, I think they're awake right now."
These were banalities. Evan had said something far more important: he'd read the info on the threats here with them. Zandah had not done that. He'd glanced at it on the first day, and then had ignored the Pip Boy except when it actively beeped at him, at which point he'd done whatever was needed to make it acknowledge that he'd viewed the notification, like snoozing an alarm on his phone for the dozenth time.
It wasn't easy to pretend that it wasn't strapped to his arm, changing the weight of even casual movements and sometimes knocking against something when he didn't expect it, but if there was one special talent Zandah had it was not actually inhabiting his body except in the brief moments when he was forced to, and otherwise existing as a viewpoint and a set of feelings, sort of a cloud that would experience sensations without entirely connecting them to itself. "The arm is heavy" instead of "My arm i heavy," that sort of thing. But part of that was that doing something obvious and important for survival, like reading up on what they were pitted against, simply wouldn't occur to him. He'd be physically staring at the screen and not seeing it at all.
"Maybe we should go check on them?" he added. "Let them know about the, uh..."
He waved a hand vaguely, not even bothering to try to represent the monsters in charades.
((from the woodcutter))
The light from the fire was enough.
Watch a while, confirm.
Move.
The three of them stalked like a pack of wolves out in the snows.
Pause. A flurry of gestures. One broke away.
Hands slithered across a window.
The light from the fire was enough.
Watch a while, confirm.
Move.
The three of them stalked like a pack of wolves out in the snows.
Pause. A flurry of gestures. One broke away.
Hands slithered across a window.
"How about w-we just..stay here? Maybe, uh...just stay. Yeah. Yeah."
Naomi looks to a window. W-what?
"W-What was..?"
Naomi looks petrified.
"Maybe we should go, actually!"
Naomi looks to a window. W-what?
"W-What was..?"
Naomi looks petrified.
"Maybe we should go, actually!"
Evan nodded, picking up from the end of Zandah’s sentence.
“Monsters. Yeah, no reason to think the blizzard is slowing them down as much as it is us. Sorry, I got a bit spooked. Wasn’t thinking straight.”
One always wanted to imagine the bad thing wasn’t going to happen to you; or if it was already happening, that the worst parts of it would be saved for someone else. Denial loved to tag along as an unwelcome companion, even in situations like this.
Evan stood, picking up the rifle and wrapping the sling around his arm. He’d picked that up from an instructor - the idea was, you could steady the weapon using the tension of the sling. Little motions like that felt silly to put into practice, like he was merely imitating someone better trained rather than trying to actually implement good advice.
Still, here they were. Keeping watch. Walking a perimeter. Taking aim. The fact that these were real, actual things they had to do kept him grounded in a kind of reality, even if it still didn’t feel like his own. It was easier to take on the role of a survivor in this situation than the role of Evan, in truth.
The sound of a crunch, either ice or broken glass, caught Evan’s attention. Multiple footsteps, coming from inside the building. They were quiet, but there was only so lightly one could walk in a place so covered in frost and debris.
Evan shot Zandah a look, and adjusted the rifle in the crook of his arm.
“...Naomi? Glenda?”
“Monsters. Yeah, no reason to think the blizzard is slowing them down as much as it is us. Sorry, I got a bit spooked. Wasn’t thinking straight.”
One always wanted to imagine the bad thing wasn’t going to happen to you; or if it was already happening, that the worst parts of it would be saved for someone else. Denial loved to tag along as an unwelcome companion, even in situations like this.
Evan stood, picking up the rifle and wrapping the sling around his arm. He’d picked that up from an instructor - the idea was, you could steady the weapon using the tension of the sling. Little motions like that felt silly to put into practice, like he was merely imitating someone better trained rather than trying to actually implement good advice.
Still, here they were. Keeping watch. Walking a perimeter. Taking aim. The fact that these were real, actual things they had to do kept him grounded in a kind of reality, even if it still didn’t feel like his own. It was easier to take on the role of a survivor in this situation than the role of Evan, in truth.
The sound of a crunch, either ice or broken glass, caught Evan’s attention. Multiple footsteps, coming from inside the building. They were quiet, but there was only so lightly one could walk in a place so covered in frost and debris.
Evan shot Zandah a look, and adjusted the rifle in the crook of his arm.
“...Naomi? Glenda?”
SOTF: U
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
The sound was faintly audible, but it was at the edge of Zandah's consciousness. He didn't grasp the implications at first. It was an old building, full of things that went creak and crunch, and all of the group made their little noises as they moved about. Zandah personally felt awkward and lumbering, more so even than usual, when everything here was old and decrepit and liable to fall to pieces if he leaned on it in the wrong way.
It was only when Evan gave him that look that everything came clearer. The sound wasn't coming from where the girls were. The weather outside was awful, which made it unlikely that other students would be skulking around—and doubly so that they would be doing so with as much success at masking their presence. And even if they were, what did that suggest about their intentions?
Zandah hefted his own weapon, still uncertain, but he at least remembered what he'd been taught, kept it pointed away from anything he didn't want to shoot. While Evan called out, Zandah went dead quiet, but he began to move, his own footsteps as light as he could make them, only somewhat crunchier than those of their uninvited guests.
It was only when Evan gave him that look that everything came clearer. The sound wasn't coming from where the girls were. The weather outside was awful, which made it unlikely that other students would be skulking around—and doubly so that they would be doing so with as much success at masking their presence. And even if they were, what did that suggest about their intentions?
Zandah hefted his own weapon, still uncertain, but he at least remembered what he'd been taught, kept it pointed away from anything he didn't want to shoot. While Evan called out, Zandah went dead quiet, but he began to move, his own footsteps as light as he could make them, only somewhat crunchier than those of their uninvited guests.
Glenda sparked to life like an activated robot, sitting bolt upright.
What was that?
Her heart roared in her ears and she tried to level it out. She shook her head hard and decisive. "No. We can't just run off. We'll freeze. If we move we need a plan first."
Okay yeah sounded great.
So...
About that plan...?
Glenda gripped the sword she'd carted around from the beginning of all this. She gripped hard enough to turn her knuckles white.
Nope.
She was coming up blank.
What was that?
Her heart roared in her ears and she tried to level it out. She shook her head hard and decisive. "No. We can't just run off. We'll freeze. If we move we need a plan first."
Okay yeah sounded great.
So...
About that plan...?
Glenda gripped the sword she'd carted around from the beginning of all this. She gripped hard enough to turn her knuckles white.
Nope.
She was coming up blank.
The intrusion with it brought an even greater chill to the air.
Footsteps continued to move, growing in purpose and urgency.
Footsteps continued to move, growing in purpose and urgency.
Naomi tried to take in air.
At first she couldn't.
Then she did, shallow. Fast.
Fast.
Get it together-get it together!
"Fuck-fuck. Okay. Uhh.."
Also blank. Blank. More blank.
At first she couldn't.
Then she did, shallow. Fast.
Fast.
Get it together-get it together!
"Fuck-fuck. Okay. Uhh.."
Also blank. Blank. More blank.
There wasn't a reply. Just more footsteps. They split, as Evan noted one set off-rhythm from the others, fading away. He motioned to start moving, back further into the building. As if there was some kind of a plan.
The two of them remained in the same spot, neither seeming particularly inclined to take the lead. Evan stood awkwardly in the middle of the colonnade-like entryway. They'd piled up enough furniture and materials to sufficiently blockade themselves from the outside; however, this meant there was little cover or concealment on the inside. Whatever was approaching, they would have to face it head-on.
It didn't take long for them to appear. Peeking in from one of the doorways at the end of the colonnade, a sallow face locked eyes with him. They wore old military surplus wool coats over their jumpsuits, under which Evan could see the faded logo of Janus-Hayes. Clutched in his pale hand was a bloodied spear.
Another set of eyes. Another Revenant. This one had some kind of an axe.
Evan's grip on his rifle tightened, his gloves making a slight squeaking noise against the wood and steel.
Take the shot. Raise up, take the shot. Don't worry about the recoil. Take a shot, and then-
"Run!"
He quickly raised the rifle, and fired in the general direction of the Revenants. The recoil kicked him painfully in the shoulder, a jump-start to the adrenaline rush he knew he desperately needed. Without checking to see if the shot had landed, Evan turned and ran.
((Evan Keane continued in This Place Is A Message))
The two of them remained in the same spot, neither seeming particularly inclined to take the lead. Evan stood awkwardly in the middle of the colonnade-like entryway. They'd piled up enough furniture and materials to sufficiently blockade themselves from the outside; however, this meant there was little cover or concealment on the inside. Whatever was approaching, they would have to face it head-on.
It didn't take long for them to appear. Peeking in from one of the doorways at the end of the colonnade, a sallow face locked eyes with him. They wore old military surplus wool coats over their jumpsuits, under which Evan could see the faded logo of Janus-Hayes. Clutched in his pale hand was a bloodied spear.
Another set of eyes. Another Revenant. This one had some kind of an axe.
Evan's grip on his rifle tightened, his gloves making a slight squeaking noise against the wood and steel.
Take the shot. Raise up, take the shot. Don't worry about the recoil. Take a shot, and then-
"Run!"
He quickly raised the rifle, and fired in the general direction of the Revenants. The recoil kicked him painfully in the shoulder, a jump-start to the adrenaline rush he knew he desperately needed. Without checking to see if the shot had landed, Evan turned and ran.
((Evan Keane continued in This Place Is A Message))
SOTF: U
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Zandah was right behind Evan.
Maybe he could've been in front, if he'd reacted better. He'd just sort of frozen for a few seconds there, looking at everyone and everything and not processing it properly. On some level, he still didn't quite believe this was happening. On another, he wished it'd just get over with. They'd been doomed from the very start, after all.
But the specifics of their peril kicked him back into gear. The gaunt, pale faces were horrible in a way that Zandah hadn't been prepared for. He'd been ready for the Nexu. Hoping for the Nexu. It was an animal, more or less, and that made sense. Animals weren't particularly malicious, outside of their instincts. But these, these were human-adjacent. Probably the worst option, really, if Zandah had to choose.
So, yeah, he ran.
He probably should've shot at them before doing so, come to think of it, but it was a little late for that.
((Zandah Udall continued in This Place Is A Message))
Maybe he could've been in front, if he'd reacted better. He'd just sort of frozen for a few seconds there, looking at everyone and everything and not processing it properly. On some level, he still didn't quite believe this was happening. On another, he wished it'd just get over with. They'd been doomed from the very start, after all.
But the specifics of their peril kicked him back into gear. The gaunt, pale faces were horrible in a way that Zandah hadn't been prepared for. He'd been ready for the Nexu. Hoping for the Nexu. It was an animal, more or less, and that made sense. Animals weren't particularly malicious, outside of their instincts. But these, these were human-adjacent. Probably the worst option, really, if Zandah had to choose.
So, yeah, he ran.
He probably should've shot at them before doing so, come to think of it, but it was a little late for that.
((Zandah Udall continued in This Place Is A Message))