logs | — survival can be summed up in three words

( → starters and tag ins for vv under here. )

[ The fearful broadcast, the moons, the harpies' barking, the hoarse whispers in his hindmind, and the forest itself are enough to ignite a foul mood in anyone. It's a wonder that he doesn't immediately try and get his hands around Puck's throat, because the idea is there, and it is tempting. The steely anger in his eyes speaks to that as his grip tightens around a roughly-crafted tree-bough-turned-spear. ]

I've no interest in bargaining with this one.

[ He speaks in an aside to the other Restless man who's found the clearing with him—tall and red-eyed. From his build, he's probably an able combatant, and on a clearer day he'd try to coordinate a plan.

But on today, the worst Halloween ever, he's agitated enough to just stride forward with the intent of wresting the lantern from Puck. Except Puck isn't gripping the thing tight at all; it dangles loosely from his fingers, swaying, and when Dimitri approaches, the prankster seems fine with letting it 'slip' with gravity.

Dimitri's eyes widen, body jerking forward. ] Wait—!

[ he didn't need much incentive to come here. the mysterious distress call was enough to coax him out of his temporary stay and travel to serene. there is still a lot he doesn't know about this world — its inhabitants and its rules. take the history of the lantern, for example, and its alleged control over these woods.

it's a curious thing.

the current situation is a bit anticlimactic though, isn't it? the lamp seems to have been stolen by a mischievous boy by the name of puck. vincent has no intention of indulging him in his childish antics, but he wants to avoid hurting him if possible. before he can even formulate a plan, his companion acts first.

he watches what happens next without much fanfare as the blond steps forward and puck releases his hold on the lantern. instinctively, he rushes towards it but even his speed isn't enough to counter the pull of gravity. the lamp hits the ground and shatters upon impact. without hesitation, he changes his trajectory, grabbing onto the boy's arms to lock him in place, lest he tries to make a break for it. red hues slants down towards the broken lantern, his expression solemn.

this could have gone better. he looks over at his companion, ignoring puck's demands to be let go. ]

You acted too impulsively.

[ Thankfully, despite being more withdrawn (or perhaps just more cautious), the other man is quick, and springs into action without missing a beat. Puck complains loudly as he's trapped in place. Rather than leaping to pummel him, Dimitri stares at the broken lantern and is properly chastised for his own part in this mess.

He openly grimaces—the spark of guilt wakes something else up in his mind, something that wants to answer with something barbed and lashed, but he tempers his tongue. ]

...I did. My apologies.

[ And he does sound contrite about it, dropping to a knee to examine the broken lantern bits, carefully cradling a piece in his fingers to inspect. It's thoroughly trashed, gone dark. Even if it was a magical implement, it's not going to magic itself back together any time soon.

He drops the shard with a sigh, glancing up at his companion, then more sternly at Puck. ]

What to do now?

[ frightened by what these men would do to him, puck is more than ready to spill what he knows — on the condition that he's let go afterward. initially, he attempted to negotiate a more immediate release, but as soon as vincent applied some pressure with his clawed hand, he hurriedly adjusted the terms.

he informs them of the blood sacrifice required to repair the lantern, making sure to emphasize that it could come from a slight cut, lest they try to take his life to complete their mission. puck eyes the blond in particular warily before he requests to be let go now.

vincent doesn't speak for a moment, still locking the kid in place. ] I'll release you after the lantern is fixed.

[ he lowers his gaze to dimitri. ] I can do it if you're opposed.

[ Puck struggles, and a group of overlapping voices grumble in his skull about how this now-harmless prankster had led to the death of those people in the broadcast, and who knows how much more suffering. His Shadows is the loudest of them: it reminds him that there's nothing stopping them from using Puck's blood for this—there's no reason to forgive mischief when it comes at the cost of other lives.

But with Puck safely ("safely") in Vincent's grip, he stifles his reaction down to a harsh glare before he turning his attention back to the lantern. ]

No, it's all right. As you said, it was my mistake.

[ And therefore his responsibility. Though whether one person's blood is really enough to fix this, they'll see.

He's not armed with anything seriously sharp though, so after a moment he turns to Vincent, eyeing the same claws that he's using to keep Puck in place before he extends a hand towards him, almost too conversational in tone considering his request. ]

Though would you mind helping me? [ by... slashing him up a little?? ] No need to hold back.

[ He can grab Puck, if that helps. ]

[ like many others, vincent's first exchange with his shadow was startling.

he has grown used to chaos stirring within him, so a new presence — one that could actually communicate with him (no less in his voice) — was disconcerting and unwanted. but as the carrier of more than one monstrosity within him, his shadow has now become more of an extra nuisance than something to be feared.

it spoke of words that he knew himself and its singular motive was provocation.

he had far more control than to allow it to manipulate and taunt him into action. but as dimitri offers his arm towards him, he hesitates and his shadow spoke: don't pretend you're afraid of harming him. you enjoy the bloodshed. go on, slice deep into him.

his brows crease together slightly before he stifles the thought and nods once. lowering his gaze to the proffered hand, he momentarily releases his grip on puck to cut into the flesh of his palm with one sharp metallic finger — clean and precise. ]

[ unfortunately, he fails to catch up to the horseman once it vanishes into the tempest.

vincent returns to the chaos it left behind, assessing the damage and scanning the area for any notable clues. aside from the few wounded and dead, a strewn of papers have been scattered throughout the festival ground. a peculiar sight, seeing how they weren't there before.

he walks over to one, crouching down onto one knee to pick it up. turning it front to back, he only sees a painting of a white scorpion on it. nothing else.

a symbol, perhaps? or maybe some sort of message. he raises his head to see a man nearby who has taken interest in the sheets of papers as well. ] Are they all the same? [ he inquires, his tone solemn yet soft. he holds up the depiction of the scorpion for him to compare. ]

[ After a failed attempt to catch and capture that headless horseman, possibly one of most goddamned stupid things he's done in a while (maybe he's feeling restless, maybe he's feeling like he dares this place to keep him here), Joel returns to the site of destruction too.

He finds himself being roped into joining the clean-up crew, clearing the area and pushing debris out of the way. He's in the vicinity of the other man dressed in red when he's spoken to, and curious to confirm the question for the both of them, he plucks one of the loose-leaf pages and flips it over.

Yep.

He nods. ]

Looks like. Got any idea what it means?

No. [ but he folds the paper up and slips it into his pants' pocket nonetheless. ] It's most likely a message.

[ what that message is though remains a mystery. ]

These were scattered after the horseman appeared, so they must be connected in some way. [ he looks around at the corpses strewn across the area. ] Either as a warning or a declaration of some kind.

Hm. [ Joel hums a sound of agreement, following the gaze of the other man's to the bodies lying scattered around them. Nothing he hasn't seen before, and certainly not as grisly if he's gonna be completely honest.

He's become so desensitized to gore and violence it's hard to find something that'd shake him up these days. He has to remember that not everyone might react in the same way. ]

I reckon you're probably right. Either way, it's a hell of a strong message. Think someone's gonna follow up on it?

[ he has seen far too many atrocities as well to be bothered by the sight. ]

Likely. It's too public. [ but he wouldn't be surprised if the authorities didn't plan to disclose their findings. ] Caution may be advised until we learn more.

Caution's always a good idea. 'Specially in these cases.

[ Best not to make a splash or appear to be too interested or involved. Joel folds one of the pages up into squares and pockets it too. Just in case, you know. ]

Seemed to be what that horseman was thinkin' too, just before he left. Couldn't catch up to him, and I ain't slow either.

Edited 2022-11-09 05:22 (UTC)

Neither could I.

[ he nods his chin towards the direction in which the horseman first appeared. ]

I'm going to take a look at where he came from. [ more information may be discovered at the original site of attack. he doesn't wait for a reply as he begins to move down the street. he will leave it up to the other man if he wants to tag along. ]

[ And the other man, indeed, decides that wherever this guy's going, it's worth checking out.

Ain't got anything better to do anyway. It's not exactly like he's got anywhere to be, or anyone to see.

His closing the distance between the festival site and where the original place the attack took place should be indication enough that Joel's along for the ride without verbally having to say so. The trail of blood is all to easy to follow, but it stops without warning past the place where ten Hierarchy members had been slain. ]

Sure left a slaughter behind.

Its intended targets.

[ guess they know who the message is for now. ]

The rest were collateral.

[ Joel nods.

With the dark stain, and the sharp metallic scent from the blood still left in the dirt, it's unmistakable: this was a killing spree, all right, and that Headless Jackass didn't care who or what got in its way.

Still not sure he understands the meaning of those pages left up ahead, though. ]

Think that's it? [ Did the Horseman accomplish his goal? ] Or are we expectin' a return visit.

[ if this was a message to the hierarchy, then whoever's behind it — whether it be the horseman or someone else — has made it abundantly clear that they care little for any who gets in their way. a gesture as violent and conspicuous as this one can only be the beginning of something far darker and sinister.

trouble is on the horizon.

he walks over to where the trial ends, his brows furrowing ever so slightly. ]

They always return. [ but if their target is the hierarchy, is this something for him to be concerned about? ]

[ Yeah. Joel wonders the same thing.

If this is about the Hierarchy, then fuck if he cares. He's never been much for politics anyway, or being a part of any kind of big change. Always been the kind of fella who lived and let lived and not so much about any bigger picture; so long as he was left alone and could do whatever it is he wanted, provide for his family, it was all he care about. Doing things for the greater good was never on his mind.

And maybe that's where he and Ellie differed so greatly.

Well, shit. ]

Think we got somethin' to worry about?

[ he has seen and experienced enough to know that sometimes people don't get to choose whether they want to be involved or not, especially when it has to do with powerful forces at work. but there is no guarantee anything will come to pass until it actually happens, so he doesn't intend on sowing discontent. ]

Only if we get caught in the crossfire.

[ Joel grunts a sound of agreement. He studies the trail of blood for a moment longer but he's honestly seen all he's needed to see of the crime scene.

If something means to come back, it'll come back all right, and they'd better be goddamned prepared for it then. ]

All right. So what'll we need to keep this thing off our backs?

[ What can put a headless horseman down besides a bunch of magic mojo and waking up from this goddamned nightmare? ]

[ they don't know enough about the horseman yet to effectively eliminate it, so the best answer he can offer right now is— ]

Avoid associating with the Hierarchy.

[ Well, it ain't exactly the answer he'd expected — it being the most obvious one. But it'll do for now.

Because it's true: they just don't know enough yet. ]

Should be easy enough.

I'll see what else I can find out.

[ it will require some digging around. he doesn't know how fruitful it'll be, but someone is bound to know something around here. ]

If anything turns up, I'll relay it on the network.

You do that.

[ He nods, more or less silently agreeing that he'll do the same thing. The more information is shared, the better he can be prepared to avoid what he needs to avoid and confront what he needs to confront. ]

Name's Joel, if you need to find me on that network thing.

(no subject)

lapses - 2022-11-27 04:36 (UTC) - Expand

— survival can be summed up in three words

VINCENT VALENTINE

oakwoods!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

joel — wayward sun

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)