The Legion [Mods] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
letsgolegion) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionmissions2017-01-03 12:57 am
letsgolegion) wrote in legionmissions2017-01-03 12:57 am
Entry tags:
SILENT HORIZON - [Part 1: The In-Between] [modplot]
Who| Everyone who signed up
What| 2 spoopy
Where| In The In-Between, the pocket dimension inside the Silent Horizon
When| After Valor's Day. Mission starts shortly before "No Sanity Clause" and runs simultaneously in game time
Warnings/Notes| Potential warnings for EVERYTHING. This is a horror plot that may tread a lot of ground. Please keep in mind that you can stumble on disturbing stuff in almost any thread. We advise all players to put warnings in the subjects of threads when they lean towards cut-worthy stuff.
The mission was simple. The team had to board the derelict Silent Horizon, a ship with an experimental stardrive, after it finally reappeared in UP space, many hours after it was supposed to reappear, during its first field test. No life signs were aboard, but the presence of several Roboticans on the crew -- who were undetectable by bioscan -- meant that the ship had to be boarded to make sure the Robotican crewmen were gone, too.
The United Planets government, concerned about the loss of the crew members, asked the Legion to step in, in case the threat on board was of a metapowered nature. Due to the massive danger implied by an entire starship crew going missing, the response team sent on the mission was relatively large, more than enough to handle any hostiles. None of this "we'll just send one tiny team to go alone into a giant starship against an unknown threat" business. No, if there was a hostile force on the ship, the plan was "let's drop 25+ Legionnaires on its head." Safety in numbers.
It was a good idea. In theory. In most cases, it would've given them the edge that would've let them face something very nasty without succumbing to it themselves. But in practice, it just meant that it was a much larger team that suddenly went missing after watching the last video log of the previous crew on the command deck.
Screams poured out of the screen the moment it started to play -- automatically -- when they entered the command deck. Onscreen, they saw the original crew murdering each other, tearing each other apart in a blood-soaked rampage.
"Wait, stop! What's wrong with everyone? Why are you --?" cried out one of the Robotican crew members, clearly immune from whatever was causing the madness, but his cries went unheeded as one of his Coluan crew-mates bashed his head clean off with a chair.
After the video played, the darkness swept in, wrapping around the whole team of Legionnaires, making them feel frozen all the way down to their bones and stealing consciousness away from them. When they woke again, they all found themselves separated, waking up in a realm of nightmares.
The halls breathe here -- at least in the places that have walls. They flex in and out, like the passageways inside the lungs. Sometimes the walls give way to open nightmare-scapes, remote and foggy, or bright and alien and exposed. The landscape bends and shifts around them, reacting to their thoughts and fears. And every so often, far off, there is the pitter-pat of something strange moving through this place. Like the sound of many feet -- or hands -- slapping against the ground or flesh-walls.
At some point, there is always a voice that each of them hears, tinny and robotic and distant, warning them of a being called the Faceless, that rules this realm. They're told not to feed from his blood, that if they do they'll be made a part of this place. If they accept his offer, and change forms, they'll eventually bleed to death, and if the Faceless isn't stopped before they die, those that die in their mutated forms will belong to him forever.
It's not the only voice they'll hear, though. This is a land filled with whispers. And screams. And the sounds of begging sometimes, too.
And for some of the Legionnaires, the In-Between speaks to them, touches something deep and dark inside them -- and it's calling them home.
What| 2 spoopy
Where| In The In-Between, the pocket dimension inside the Silent Horizon
When| After Valor's Day. Mission starts shortly before "No Sanity Clause" and runs simultaneously in game time
Warnings/Notes| Potential warnings for EVERYTHING. This is a horror plot that may tread a lot of ground. Please keep in mind that you can stumble on disturbing stuff in almost any thread. We advise all players to put warnings in the subjects of threads when they lean towards cut-worthy stuff.
The mission was simple. The team had to board the derelict Silent Horizon, a ship with an experimental stardrive, after it finally reappeared in UP space, many hours after it was supposed to reappear, during its first field test. No life signs were aboard, but the presence of several Roboticans on the crew -- who were undetectable by bioscan -- meant that the ship had to be boarded to make sure the Robotican crewmen were gone, too.
The United Planets government, concerned about the loss of the crew members, asked the Legion to step in, in case the threat on board was of a metapowered nature. Due to the massive danger implied by an entire starship crew going missing, the response team sent on the mission was relatively large, more than enough to handle any hostiles. None of this "we'll just send one tiny team to go alone into a giant starship against an unknown threat" business. No, if there was a hostile force on the ship, the plan was "let's drop 25+ Legionnaires on its head." Safety in numbers.
It was a good idea. In theory. In most cases, it would've given them the edge that would've let them face something very nasty without succumbing to it themselves. But in practice, it just meant that it was a much larger team that suddenly went missing after watching the last video log of the previous crew on the command deck.
Screams poured out of the screen the moment it started to play -- automatically -- when they entered the command deck. Onscreen, they saw the original crew murdering each other, tearing each other apart in a blood-soaked rampage.
"Wait, stop! What's wrong with everyone? Why are you --?" cried out one of the Robotican crew members, clearly immune from whatever was causing the madness, but his cries went unheeded as one of his Coluan crew-mates bashed his head clean off with a chair.
After the video played, the darkness swept in, wrapping around the whole team of Legionnaires, making them feel frozen all the way down to their bones and stealing consciousness away from them. When they woke again, they all found themselves separated, waking up in a realm of nightmares.
The halls breathe here -- at least in the places that have walls. They flex in and out, like the passageways inside the lungs. Sometimes the walls give way to open nightmare-scapes, remote and foggy, or bright and alien and exposed. The landscape bends and shifts around them, reacting to their thoughts and fears. And every so often, far off, there is the pitter-pat of something strange moving through this place. Like the sound of many feet -- or hands -- slapping against the ground or flesh-walls.
At some point, there is always a voice that each of them hears, tinny and robotic and distant, warning them of a being called the Faceless, that rules this realm. They're told not to feed from his blood, that if they do they'll be made a part of this place. If they accept his offer, and change forms, they'll eventually bleed to death, and if the Faceless isn't stopped before they die, those that die in their mutated forms will belong to him forever.
It's not the only voice they'll hear, though. This is a land filled with whispers. And screams. And the sounds of begging sometimes, too.
And for some of the Legionnaires, the In-Between speaks to them, touches something deep and dark inside them -- and it's calling them home.
cw: blood, eye gore, body horror, harm to children
A. pre-transformation - open to everyone
It's monsters. Just monsters. Just a hellscape. Just madness. He's done all this before. That's why every time the land shifts and something scary is thrown at him, he mostly just rolls his eyes. Sometimes he has to fight it off with teke. Sometimes his powers are suppressed and he has to run or rely on improvised weapons from his surroundings. In either case, the most he shows is reasonable caution. No fear.
The most he feels is a familiar flutter of adrenaline, and by now it feels natural. He feels more awake and alive and lucid.
"Let me guess," he says to the landscape, treating it like the living thing it probably is by talking to it, "next it's going to be creepy dolls on spider legs. Or creepy twins --" Dipper hears something shifting and clicking behind him, and turns to see two twin dolls on clockwork spider legs waiting for him. "Called it."
The twin spider-dolls freeze in place and the way they turn to look at each other seems slightly...embarrassed. The legs twitch and instead of attacking Dipper they turn to scamper off. He looks up and around at the hellscape.
"What else you got?"
The place has already tried blood pouring down walls and out of faucets, spiders, creepy music boxes, reflections in mirrors that aren't his, creepy taxidermy, and evil marionettes. It almost got him with the "Mabel is out there screaming for help" trick but logic kicked in. She didn't come on the mission and Kid Q wouldn't send her into something as creepy as "the whole away team disappeared on a derelict."
It's pathetic, really. As far as scary nightmare landscapes go, he gives this one only a five out of ten. There aren't even any dimension-rending bubbles of madness or anything.
B. starting to lose it - open
This place really isn't that scary and it's getting less and less scary the longer he stays here. Honestly, it's almost relaxing to see pools of blood and bony ribs sticking up through the landscape. There's a wrongness to it that's starting to feel right.
But that's probably messed up. Probably.
The only thing that's really bugging him is the pain he's started feeling. It keeps stabbing him behind his left eye. Maybe a cluster headache?
When he hears a noise that suggests that someone else is there, he turns his head suddenly and his shoulders relax when he realizes it's a team-mate.
"Oh man, am I glad to see you. I haven't seen anyone else from the team in, like, hours. Or at least it feels like hours. Time's all weird here."
He smiles in relief and it all would be very hopeful if not for the fact that blood is seeping from his left eye, dripping down his face. He hasn't noticed. He also hasn't noticed that it's stained the front of his uniform, suggesting this isn't the first time it's bled that way without him realizing.
C. post-transformation - open
He's still Dipper. When they see him, it's from behind -- that's the way the landscape opens up, always. They get where he is and they see him from behind and he's sitting on the ground, hunched over, his back to them, his arms folded in his lap. His hat is long gone and the uniform is ripped to shreds at the shoulders. He looks damp and his clothes are stained in enough red and brown to make it clear he possibly took a full-body dip in some blood.
Still, he looks human from behind.
"Everyone keeps worrying about me," he says, still facing away from the person that's approached him. "Because I'm young, I guess. It gets people all protective. But they don't need to fuss."
He shrugs a shoulder.
"I mean, I guess it's peer pressure or whatever? But I really don't think I made the wrong choice in joining in. It's nice to feel like...like I belong somewhere, you know? I was starting to think I'd never feel that way again."
That's when his head turns around backwards, his body still sitting there in place. One eye is sewed shut. The other is gone, and blood is dripping down his face from the socket. Deep within it, there's an unnatural yellow light burning away, like an ember of coal.
"You belong here, too. You just don't know it yet," he says cheerfully, and pointy teeth flash in his mouth.
His body then unfolds and turns around. The arms are stretched out too long, ending in hands with long fingers and razor sharp claws. His legs unfold in ways legs should never be folded up. They're too long and bend in places legs aren't supposed to bend in. The pants of his costume are shredded and his boots are long gone, too.
"This is the part where I unhinge my jaw and chase you, by the way. It's pretty lame, I know. Total cliche. Buuut you have to play to your strengths."
And he does just that, his jaw unhinging, showing lines and lines of needle-like teeth. The screech that erupts from his throat is as inhuman as he looks -- and then he starts to skitter along the ground towards them with twitching limbs.
closed to grif
He walks into what's clearly a graveyard. "Ooh. Spooky. Not."
That's when he sees the girl. She looks...strange, and he realizes that's because she looks different through each eye. When he looks at her through his right eye, it looks like her eyes and nose are torn away, leaving gaping holes. Her white dress is bloodstained and most of the hair's been ripped from her head.
But when he holds a hand over his right eye, through the left eye she looks...beautiful. She looks like a really cute teenage girl, around his age, wearing a white sundress. A little voice whispers in his head that that's the image he should trust. Everything about this situation feels normal, like it's some boring summer day back home in Piedmont or Gravity Falls. Through his left eye, the graveyard even seems like some sunny field in the Oregon woods.
"So, uh. Heeey. I guess? What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"
It sounds way cooler in his head than it does out loud, but then she laughs like she thinks it's cute and Dipper smiles.
She holds out her hand, for him to take it and run away with her, and he knows she intends to take him to see secret things in secret places. He knows that this one day of summer around him can be endless, with him forever getting to find out all the things that are unknown. Every mystery is his to uncover and he can be an adult and a kid at the same time, exactly the way he wants to be. Forever.
He just has to take her hand.
To people the outside, however, it isn't a sunny summer day in a field. Dipper stands in a foggy graveyard, with a monstrous ghost floating in the air in front of him, reaching a clawed and rotting hand towards him.
no subject
A blur of orange shoots across the graveyard. Grif narrowly avoids tripping over a headstone as he notices something that looks like maybe someone he knows-
That's Dipper.
He backtracks to the gravestone he almost tripped over and stops.
That's Dipper and a goddamn ghost.
"Dipper!"
Grif zooms to grab him and haul him away from it, spooky fucker be damned.
"What the fuck, Dipper?!" he yells.
no subject
The rest of the dizziness and the feeling of unreality is being caused by the blood loss and the effect this place is having on him.
"Seriously? I was like this close to getting her number."
He holds his fingers just a tiny hair's width apart, talking about it like she was a normal girl and this is a normal summer's day. It looks like one to him; the blood streams are burbling happily and carnivorous flowers are in bloom. Everything is the way it should be.
He wipes at his face, which he can't seem to get clean even though he can't figure out why. Every time he pulls his hand away, it's covered in blood again, and then he wipes it off on his uniform -- which is already filthy from the blood he's already wiped on it. Then it starts over again, as he absently wipes his face and gets surprised at how he can't seem to get it clean...
"You're cramping my style, man."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
the faceless
In the end he does hit something. The darkness disappears and the sky is bright around him, a bright unnatural white. He gets only a glimpse of deep red as he drops into an ocean and kicks his way to the surface, sputtering, a metallic taste on his tongue. He kicks off his boots to keep them from weighing him down and tries to keep his head above the surface. The water is almost too thick to swim through, so he stops trying, instead floating on his back and looking up at the sky. Holding up a hand, he sees that his arm is soaked in...
"Blood. Ew." So unhygienic. Ugh, he hopes that since it's a realm of nightmares and horrors that the blood in it doesn't have any diseases. It wouldn't have diseases if it's not coming from real people, right? It's not like whatever evil demon or spirit or whatever's behind this would try to kill someone with hepatitis.
He tries to angle his head to look around, but all he sees is red in every direction he can get a glimpse of. It briefly occurs to him that the danger here might be something in the blood sea under him, like a sea monster, but the gentle ebb and flow of the waves lulls him into a state of calm that makes the fear flow right out of him.
Overhead he hears the screech of gulls and sees them fly above him, moving against unseen winds. They have no flesh, just white bone that clicks as they flap their wings. It's actually all very relaxing, and feels like a normal day at the beach back home in California.
He's getting tired of fighting this. It's not so bad, right? It feels like...home.
The waves push him onto a beach with bone white sand. Nearby he sees bones sticking up like driftwood and realizes that the sand actually is bone, ground down into gritty dust.
The pain behind his left eye gets worse than ever and he closes his eyes and presses his knuckles against his eyelid.
closed to Gwen
He stumbles as he walks on bare feet, his boots lost to the ocean of blood he'd fallen into. He's still soaked, his uniform stained, his normally-fluffy hair matted down.
Dipper is getting more and more dizzy.
Maybe it's the blood loss. The eye that's been sewn shut by the Faceless isn't bleeding much anymore, but the socket of his left eye, which had been taken entirely, is still bleeding. The little yellow light inside it burns but not enough to cauterize anything.
He likes the burn. He's not really sure why but things that would normally be painful feel the opposite now.
And then he sees Gwen and totters on towards her.
"Heeey," he says. She looks ugly to him, through that filter of yellow light. Ugly and wrong. She'd look a lot better if she was bleeding too, he decides. "Gweeeen. Gwen."
He leans heavily against a nearby tree, with bark that bleeds like so many things in this realm bleed.
"You're one of the people I wanted to talk to. Have you ever considered staying here forever? If not, you really, really should."
no subject
"Dipper? Oh god, your eye. What..."
... Yeah, no. So much for wishful thinking.
"Dip, hey. Come on, stop talking like that." She says, inching and stepping away from him. "Snap out of it! You're not thinking straight. You gotta just..."
Don't do this to her.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
A - TW: Too many limbs
It forced her to continue on alone. Whatever is causing this has a lot more to feed off from Miku than it does from Dipper, and it shows. There is something skittering behind the slow-moving girl, that has too many faces, and too many arms. The flesh of its many palms slap against the ground as Miku turns a corner, and ducks into a narrow crawlspace located only by what must've been pure, dumb luck.
She's small enough to fit, anyway, and that's what matters. The creature thunders past, its many mouths open, tongues lolling as if tasting the air for Miku's scent. Miku catches sight of Dipper from the safety of her hiding spot. With its attention off of her for now, she puts a finger to her lips and beckons him to duck down, lest it see him, too.
no subject
So he ducks under a table with a low-hanging tablecloth, pressing back against the wall, as the thing comes back, snuffling by again.
This time it passes and seems to leave. Maybe. In any case, they probably can't avoid its attention if it comes by for another pass. Dipper peeks his head out, edging out slowly and carefully, checking both ways to see if the coast is clear.
When it seems like they're clear, he silently signals for her to follow him in the opposite direction than the one the creature went down.
He doesn't even whisper a word. It's too risky to talk when that thing could come running back at the slightest sound.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
C
At least he was already running with his shamisen in hand, and he still had about half the paper he'd arrived with. He skidded to a stop and realized quickly he'd come across Mabel's brother.
It was unfortunate that he'd never made it to actually meeting the other Pines twin in person. Mother had arrived and he'd been thoroughly occupied with the miracle of her third return from the dead, too much so to meet with potential new friends his age for a good chunk of time. Even on the ship over, he'd only waved politely to Dipper, in between looking out at the stars and holding conversation about them with his mother.
The boy's words spoke to him quickly, though.
"I know," he responded. "They're protective of me too - they think I haven't had to take care of myself already, but they don't know -"
He trailed off as Dipper went on, eye narrowing. Peer pressure. Belonging? "Is that how the . . . the transformations start? You feel like you belong here, and it . . ."
It makes you belong more. It explained why he hadn't succumbed to the same transformation. He had felt a half sense of belonging in his village, with his grandfather, with Kameyo, with other humans, but he belonged fully between a monkey and a beetle on a boat of leaves, eating sashimi cut with a magic sword.
His place was a strange one. But it was a beautiful strangeness that he belonged utterly to, not to horror and violence that needed no reason to ruin lives.
With a sinking horror, Kubo wondered how Dipper could possibly be displaced, hurt enough to feel like this was where he belonged.
Kubo recalled the fragments he knew of Mabel's story - how she could listen to him talk about his grandfather stealing his eye with sympathetic horror, but also carry on that conversation with horrors of her own. Dipper had seen too much -
- and it had taken his sight with it.
For some reason, all of Kubo's sympathetic, horrified response to Dipper's condition flattened into a disbelieving, narrow-eyed stare as his one eye met the glowing coal in Dipper's eye socket.
"His eyes? Really?"
This was it. He'd tried to draw the Gunslinger out of himself and been threatened with death by the doctor whose first instinct had been to promise care and attention to him in his own home. But this was the sticking point that made Kubo (figuratively) throw his hat on the ground and stomp on it.
"What is it with monsters from the stars taking eyes?"
He didn't have much time to object to Dipper's ocular situation before the Unhinging of the Jaw and the Inhuman Screams, though, and Kubo bolted for a bit more cover, fingers finding the chords he'd need on his shamisen. Though he was well-versed in stories, he wasn't well-versed in any where unhinged jaws and chasing were common enough to be cliche, so Dipper's final comment went unresponded to as he trilled a couple of notes that pulled his paper out of his pack.
no subject
It was just that tagging Kubo "it" entailed eating him. That was all. Very subtle difference.
He practically skipped across the ground on his twisted, misshapen limbs after him, and the glee on his malformed face still likely held some familiarity.
When Dipper was happiest, he looked as bright and cheerful as his twin, after all.
(no subject)
(no subject)
C. Further CW warnings: more harm to children, indifference to own life
You found him! You found him, Robbie... You found Dipper.
The shadows of Stamford children are his personal Greek chorus. Robbie rarely says anything to them, but he listens. They speak in a jumble, small voices overlapping and tripping over each other. Robbie never misses a word. They think like he does, but express it plainly. Sometimes, the shadows reach his thoughts before he does. "I don't think you made the wrong choice joining the Legion."
Dipper belongs!! Dipper belongs with us. Now we're all together again. I was so lonely.
When Dipper turns around to face him, Robbie jerks out of his hazed compliance. He'd gotten lulled into a fugue, for lack of a better term. The dulled, going-through-the-motions mindset that he had inhabited while he was calling himself Penance and thinking of only guilt and sorrow. He was ostensibly looking for his team, but he has been wandering for some time with only the increasing number of shadows for company.
"Dipper? No..." Tears sting his eyes like razor cuts. He hasn't seen a single corpse, until now, facing a teammate so grievously injured that Robbie can only think that he's talking to a dead boy. He stopped trying to use logic several dozen children ago: there are no thoughts that this isn't reality. He accepts it with self-disgust. He knows that Dipper is young and, yes, needs protecting, and Robbie didn't voice his concern to anyone. This, too, is on his hands. He wasn't there. He didn't do his job.
We can stay together forever. Robbie and Dipper can stay forever. Maybe they'll play with us... Nah, Speedball doesn't play with kids 'cept to kill us.
Whenever Robbie begins to think of the present situation, the children remind him of his sins.
Yeah, kill kids like Dipper. Robbie knows he belongs here with the dead. We all died and Robbie should too.
Dipper promises to unhinge his jaw and does, and he wastes little time charging. Robbie reacts, partly out of habit, but he can't let the kid do this. He knows how Dipper regrets what happened on Murderworld. It doesn't matter that Robbie deserves it or that ... that something's wrong with Dipper. He won't let it get any worse.
He sends an energy blast directly at the gaping, toothy maw.
It's better with banter. Yay dead baby jokes! Make a joke, Speedball.
"I know a really good dentist. I promise - we're gonna get that teeth thing looked at." Robbie will make sure any fall is cushioned with energy bubbles.
Lame.
no subject
Then there's a whine and unlike the screeching, it sounds human. It's the kind of whine that goes along with 'Mommy why don't I feel good? Do I have to stay here in the hospital?' Dipper tilts his head and peers at Robbie with that burning ember that isn't an eye, as if he finally sees him, and then the cringing expression on his face is pure hurt, like a child that's unexpectedly gotten slapped by a parent.
It makes it clear there's still a boy in there, still something that's a tiny bit human. It's in there with a whole lot of homicidal malice, but it's in there.
"What the heck? All I'm trying to do is kill you," Dipper says sullenly. "Not cool, man."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
C
Which looks incredibly unlikely.
"Dipper..." It's a warning and a plea. Sorrow for the fact that he's been betrayed and anger that he gave in to them. Whatever these are, they act like a disease, and it sounds like a disease you have to give in to.
"I'm worried about you too, you know. That's just part of being a team."
Can she even talk him out of this? If there is one thing she has never been good at, it's having heart-to-heart talks.
"And it sounds like you're just trying to trade one team for another. Is that really going to change anything?"
no subject
But the process hasn't wiped his entire mind away either. He's still in there, personality, insecurities, and all. None of them can win these arguments, but they can still draw him into them.
He re-hinges his jaw and stops chasing her, circling around her, his movements spider-like. His desire to fulfill his new purpose is temporarily overwhelmed by teenage petulance. Apparently, the only force on Earth that can at least temporarily overpower his new homicidal tendencies is teen angst.
"There's no way you could understand. You're, like, still sort-of a superhero back home, right? And you're actually cool."
Or at least she's his kind of cool. She's smart, and daring, and confident, and a lot of the things that he wishes he could be more than just sometimes. Even when it comes down to him being "the smart one" it's just little-kid smart. He's just a little bookish and a little clever -- but in the end, it wasn't like he unraveled the secrets of Gravity Falls and the Author himself. It wasn't like he actually stopped Bill by himself. Yes, he and Mabel rallied the town and got their grunkles in position for their ruse, but they'd been helpless in Bill's hands, about to die, when Great Uncle Ford and Grunkle Stan were finally able to take him down.
"I used to think I was smart, but it was, like, 'I use big words I don't know the definitions of to sound smart' smart. You're genius smart. You're 'people will always think you're amazing for something' smart. That kind of smart always finds a place -- look at Brainiac 5 and how the Legion sees him."
His eyebrows furrow in frustration.
"If I don't kill you by eating your face or whatever, you're always going to belong somewhere, with someone." He shakes his head. "And I'm always going to be that guy that freaks out his teammates by being a creepy little weirdo."
He shrugs.
"So I might as well just own it."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
C
"Nope." Hiccup said, as he and Toothless booked it out of there, back the way they came. Toothless nosed under Hiccup's legs, shoveling his rider onto his saddle.
It wasn't solely for their own benefit that they ran. Hiccup had no desire to injure Dipper any more than he already had been, not while there was still a chance of saving him.
no subject
"Points for making me laugh with your timing before I eat you." He doesn't stop chasing them, but they totally deserve credit for such a quick and hilariously timed noping out of the situation. "C'mooon, guys. I just want to kill you a little. Occupational hazard, right?"
In a voice that's less gleeful, he goes for the throat. What he says isn't him and his voice even sounds alien for a moment, as if something else is speaking through him, trying to use Dipper's voice to cause hurt.
"You big bro dibsed me, remember? Fat lot of good that did."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
B
Dipper bleeding from his left eye is not doing anything to make her feel better. She doesn't know the young man personally, but he's probably about Kubo's age, and that on top of the eye-bleeding is enough to get her protective mom instincts up even more than they already were.
"You're bleeding," she says, frowning and taking his chin to hold his head still so she can look at the eye in question. "How did you injure it?"
no subject
It hasn't been working. This place is getting to him now, and between the constant monsters, blood loss, and tricks it's been playing on his psyche, he's reached a pretty impressive state of exhaustion.
"It's just kind of doing this on its own."
He wipes at his cheek and stares at the blood on his hand as if he can barely register the bleeding's really happening.
"It's fine," he says distantly. "Just a little blood."
B
"Dipper?"
Fully suited up and helmet on, the concern that flashes across her face when she gets a better look at the teen is hidden.
"You're bleeding, are you alright?"
no subject
Like it's normal for eyes to just randomly bleed.
He waves a hand at her dismissively.
"It's not life-threatening or anything," he says, like that's the only thing that matters when your face is randomly bleeding. "We should try to find everyone else."
Whether he's just resilient enough to not freak out over bleeding the way most young teens would or whether this place is messing with his brain is something of a toss up. Maybe it's a mix of both.
(no subject)
A
The former, thankfully, is from a perfectly normal looking shiba inu rather than some grisly depraved Cujo - and where Koromaru goes, Ken is rarely far behind (or is it the other way around). There's another, slightly less dramatic crunching sound as he pulls his spear back out from where its head is buried in one of the dolls.
The other one is now getting the hell out of dodge, because these are evidently not the easily terrified children it was looking for.
no subject
It's probably better that they get squished before they go after anyone else.
"Eh, I'll just do the rock thing anyway."
He finds a big rock and runs after the last one, dropping the rock on top and crushing it. He jumps on the rock for good measure, squishing it extra. The little mechanical legs wiggle at first and then relax and stop moving.
From his perch on the rock, on the dead monster-thing, he points at Ken.
"Ken, right? I don't think we've ever met but I memorize everything on our mission briefings."
(no subject)
B....with a little A, A B-ish??? ↑↑↓↓←→←→B A START
Relieved as he is to see another living soul (and vice versa, given the fact that she's already lost track of Gabriel in this mess— the one person that was meant to help her map out potential anchor points for the nightmare) he's bleeding: obvious to her even at a distance, and enough that Sombra— bright as anything in that dim light for the radiant blue circuitry threaded across her silhouette— peels herself away from the wall she'd been examining, glowing claws curling idly in midair as she draws nearer to him before stooping down to his level.
"You're bleeding." It's without waiting for either permission or personal space that she sets a thumb to his cheek where a line of crimson's been drawn, swiping carefully upwards towards his eye to wipe away the worst of it in a clean sweep.
"Not hurt are you?"
no subject
He bops the side of his head, as if to say 'whoopsie,' and shrugs.
"I think it's just this place. It's...playing games."
Making him have only one working eye. Ha ha, very funny, Nightmare-land. He remembers all the creepier writing in Journal #3, especially in the pages that Great Uncle Ford had ripped out that reappeared after the apocalypse was over. This had happened to Great Uncle Ford, after letting Bill into his head. One eye bleeding.
"Really, really messed up games," he says distantly, reaching his hand up to wipe away more blood as it drips down his face. "But hey, story of my life."
It's just more of the usual.
"Don't worry about it. Have you seen any of the others? I keep running into people and losing them. This place is keeping us apart, probably on purpose."
(no subject)