hadriel_logs | INTRO LOG: FACE OFF

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INTRO LOG: FACE OFF

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for November. Don't get your face eaten!
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: November 10th-17th
Warnings: Monster-related violence, people lamps, general unpleasantness, mass confusion.

You wake up on the hard earth of the colosseum. By the state of things and the various aches and pains in your body, you've probably been passed out there for awhile. A few things should immediately become clear to you upon an initial assessment.
1. You're not alone
2. You're near other people who look to be in a similar state.
3. You're also near an assortment of human shaped lamps.
4. You're also near something that skitters off into the shadows of the colosseum.
Of all of these alarming things, the skittery object might be your largest concern. Be wary when turning corners or shutting out the lights: the Hunters work best when your vision is obscured, so their gelatinous form is even harder to spot. Their main goal will be to kill people of course, though they prefer to hide in corners and smaller rooms. Watch out when trying to work through the halls of the colosseum to find the outdoors- they're surprisingly quick, and they prefer to kill their prey by opening their face-flaps and wrapping their mouths around your head. Fun!

More information on Hunters can be found here!

Second largest concern? Maybe it's the people lamps. Maybe it's the actual people around you. Whatever it is, be sure to familiarize yourself with it quickly. The devil you know is better than the devil you don't, after all.

All done with the horrible monsters and awkward greetings? Try your hand at exploring the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies until your little heart is content. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers November 10th-17th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well!
► All characters now arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Chris would really like to rest as well; he's been going nonstop for what feels like forever at this point, but the longer they wait the more danger they're putting themselves in. Staying on task and keeping a step ahead of the monsters is going to be their best bet.

That blunt force does something is encouraging at least, and he nods in understanding and at the question. But then he remembers something and suddenly digs in his pockets, looking for one item in particular; a moment later and he procures the zippo lighter Josh had tossed to him before everything went so suddenly wrong.

Don't think about it. Back on task.

"Better than nothing." He explains under his breath, flicking the lighter open and igniting the flame. "Ready."

"Good."

He says, and steps closer to him, letting out a breath.

"Hold it in front of us."

They tend to leap out of the dark. Bob and Chris will be much, much more visible this way, but will at least stand a chance of seeing something if it comes for them- something all too easy to miss, with the shadowed corridors, the intermittent lamps and the light blindness they cause.

Ready, and go. He steps out, into their little puddle of light, chasing away the inky black.

"Got it." As much as it kind of feels like sticking his hand into a lion's mouth, Chris extends the lighter out into the darkness. Fortunately the flame is bright; not enough to truly illuminate anything, but definitely enough that they might be able to see the flashes of shadows--real or imaginary--and keep track of the tunnel walls.

The flame also flickers, just briefly, as they enter the tunnel, indicating that it is--hopefully--a way out. Chris sticks as close to Bob as he can, about a half-step in front so the light can lead the way, listening for anything other than their own breathing and footsteps.

There's a skittering behind them, a few steps back, but it's seeming to keep its distance. For the moment, at least.

Something hits Bob from behind, sending him staggering- fortunately it doesn't get a grip on him, and he lashes out, trying to find it back when it makes a second snap at Chris, impossible edges of its' head expanding and flailing wildly.

"Run!"

He probably doesn't even need to say it, of course.

Chris stops immediately when Bob staggers, turning to try to help take on the monster as well--it seems utterly suicidal after facing the wendigos, but he's going to try what Bob said about it being possible to at least hurt these things--but the sight of it causes him to freeze instead. It isn't the face, as horrifying as that is, but the glimpse of long spindly arms and fingers and claws, and for just a moment there's snow under his feet and a high pitched shrieking ringing through his ears in the dark.

But he snaps out of it quickly enough to at least shield his face, which would've been too little too late if it didn't happen to bring the lighter in his hand directly in front of the creature. It reels back, at least for an instant, but it's enough to give Chris and Bob an opening.

"Yeah, go!" Bob doesn't have to tell him twice to run; he turns back the direction they'd been originally heading and shoves Bob in front of him, because going blind is still safer than being attacked by a monster, and Chris is definitely a slower runner at the moment. Besides, if fire might be able to keep the thing at bay for even a second or two at a time, then he should be in the back.

Hopefully there isn't one in front of them, too.

There isn't- but there is something he wasn't expect, and that is a stairwell. It isn't built the way they are back home, with quick and short doubled up back to back flights; it's more long, curving, and it gives him the impression of a yawning maw.

To make matters worse, it goes up, as well as down, and Bob is disoriented enough that he has no real idea which direction is a better one. Are they underground? Or upstairs in some huge building? There's no light except the lamps, and nothing else to guess by- no time to flip a coin or consult much, either, because something is coming fast at them from behind- something that makes Bob break his own word, lift the gun, and take a shot.

The crack is almost deafeningly loud in the hollow stairwell.

"Son of a bitch--" Chris is none too happy to see stairs, casting a glance up and then down, trying to figuring out which way they should go, and then there's an incredibly loud bang. He slams himself into one of the tunnel walls to stay out of the line of any further fire, trying to see if the bullet had hit or done any damage to the monster chasing them.

"Did you get it?" He asks, holding up his lighter, voice a little high pitched from nerves and slightly too loud due to the ringing in his ears. But he doesn't wait for an answer before moving to the stairs again, still trying to stay out of the way of any other shots Bob might want to take, stepping onto the staircase heading up.

Heading down never works out for anyone, after all, and if this place is anything like a real arena then up is probably the way to go.

Edited 2015-11-15 23:07 (UTC)

He nods; horrible as it is, he can definitely tell that he heard the splash. Bob follows him, still moving quickly. The good news here- the only bit of good news- is that the field is a little more narrow; things will either come from in front or behind, but not side to side.

The bad news is that it is is black as pitch once they get more than a few paces upwards. He runs his hand up the wall, frantically blinking, hoping his eyes adjust, that there's some light.

Realizing Chris may very well not have seen the nod, then;

"It's down."

It's so dark, even with his lighter, and going up the stairs on his injured leg is painful enough that even adrenaline isn't dampening it at this point. But Bob's words bring some relief at least; that's one monster down, who knows how many more to go.

"Great. Awesome." It's dry and strained, under his breath, but sincere. That's good, at least. "You and your dog okay?" They didn't get swiped by the monster or anything when it attacked, right?

"I don't think he's bleeding."

Bob says, though okay feels like a bit of a stretch. Rocco has stopped crying, but it doesn't seem at all to be because he's comfortable or calm. Not that this is to Bob's surprise.

"We need to get out of here, that's all."

He can check on him properly then.

"How badly are you hurt?"

"Yeah, getting out of here would be pretty nice." They're nearing the top of the stairs, though Chris can't see yet if there are any more flights or if it will level out. His lighter does flicker briefly when he raises it higher, though, another hopeful indication of going the right direction.

"I'm okay." He answers the question belatedly; he's definitely not actually fine, but none of his injuries are life-threatening and there's not much that can be done for him anyway while they're trying to avoid being eaten. "Just getting really sick of monsters."

"Well."

Says Bob, a soft, shaky agreement. Well, that's about all you can say, in a situation like this. He adjusts his grip on the gun, and keeps climbing.

Except, he vaguely supposes it's appropriate to murmur;

"Bob. And Rocco."

"Chris." He gives his own introduction briefly as he finally steps out onto the level surface of another dark tunnel, hobbling a little to the side so he can lean against the wall for a few moments and hoping nothing takes the moment to try to attack. He can't hear anything moving just yet, but that doesn't mean there's nothing there.

"It's another tunnel." He says back to Bob, squinting into the dark and raising his lighter again. "At least as far as I can tell." They've got to be getting close to getting out of this place, right?

"Fuck."

Says Bob, but steps forward with him. This is the only thing they can do.

He freezes, when he hears shuffling movement in the darkness ahead of them.

"Is that?"

Of course it is.

Okay. They've gone through one of these things already, they can do it again.

Chris braces himself carefully on his good leg, staying by the wall and out of the way in case Bob decides to shoot again, holding his lighter out as far as he can into the darkness both to try to catch sight of and ward off the creature. There's a brief glint from the flame off the odd surface--skin?--of the monster for just a moment before it pulls back into the shadows further, but it's enough to figure out where it generally is.

"If you're gonna take a shot, man..."

It roars- maybe not roars, but it's maw gapes so wide that Bob's heart just about stops, and he lifts the gun up, and bang, shoots. The splash is the sickening part. He can't get over how gelatinous it sounds.

"Jesus."

Keep moving, keep moving.

Chris flinches at the sound of the gunshot, but this time at least he's ready for it and even catches the gross noise of the creature going down. Good. A dead monster isn't going to attack them--hopefully, anyway.

"Okay, go." He encourages, pushing himself off the wall but still sticking close enough to it that he can use it for some support. His next comment is more to himself, not really meant to be out loud as he eases some weight onto his injured leg again so they can continue forward. "Come on, we've gotta' be close."

At the end of the hall, he finds not a door, but a window. It's sealed, and shuttered but Bob traces his fingers along what feels like a pane, and pops a catch- and lets in light. Not a lot of it, but some, at least, grey and watery and a little uninspiring.

Better than what's in here, of course.

He wedges it open wider, putting his shoulder into it, and looks down. Finds;

"We're about a story up."

"Damnit." The light--dim though it might be--and new air are welcome, but a door would've been a lot nicer. Or a bigger window; he's not sure if either of them could fit out this one even if they get it all the way open or bust it out. Maybe, though. Worth considering.

"Think we can get through it?" He asks, after a moment, glancing over his shoulder down the hall and then looking back at Bob. Dropping a story would really suck with his leg how it is, but he'll definitely take that over having to head right back into the monster tunnels and back to being lost.

"Yeah. Might break an ankle on the drop if you're not careful."

He says, but moves to do it anyways- then pauses, and decides, since he has the gun.

"You go first, I'll hold them back."

Nodding at the opening, and wedging it open just a little wider, one shoulder thrown into it.

Chris glances out the window and then back at Bob, hesitating, and not just because he's not looking forward to the landing when he does climb out. Yeah, it makes sense for him to go first, but it just feels totally wrong; still, what's he going to do if he goes second besides wave a lighter and hope for the best?

"Do you... Do you want me to take the puppy?" He's expecting a no here, but he'll offer anyway. It might be easier for Bob to not be holding a gun and possibly fighting monsters while also trying to climb out a window, all while carrying a dog too.

Bob thinks about it for a moment, glancing back over his shoulder again at the shifting dark, and decides;

"Drop down. I'll throw him to you."

It's dangerous, yes, but it's probably their safest option. That way, it won't be too far, even if Rocco does fall.

"Okay, yeah." Chris agrees, turning his attention back to the window and looking down. He's already the most uncoordinated person in the world and with an injured knee even more so, so he's just resigning himself to that this isn't going to be fun.

Shoving the window open as wide as possible, he leans out and twists around to grab the upper ledge, pulling himself out enough to sit backwards on the ledge. Okay, so far so good, carefully try to get his good leg out, great. Bending the other leg enough to get it through is difficult but he manages, so now all he had to do is push off and drop.

Ugh. He logically knows it'd be safer to turn around and hang off the ledge to drop but he's pretty sure that'll take a lot more grace than he can manage, so instead he just takes a deep breath and reminds himself that the longer he takes the more danger Bob is in, then pushes off the edge and drops.

"Damnit." He hisses the curse somewhat breathlessly from where he landed, nothing hurt any worse than before except his bad leg, which he's thinking he'd rather have cut off at this point for how bad it feels. For just a moment he remembers, out of nowhere, the joke he made about chewing off his own leg when he and Sam were stuck in the cable car, and it seems like a whole other life.

Focus, Chris. He shoves himself upright from the crouch he'd been in, all his weight on his good leg and glad the distance and his glasses probably hide the tears at the corners of his eyes. "Okay, ready!" Catch the dog, whatever you do, Chris.

Bob lets out a ragged breath between his teeth, and pulls Rocco up and out of his jacket. He checks the space behind them, but doesn't wait around; the things are going to likely close in at any moment. He can't waste time.

He puts the gun on the sill next to him for the moment, and then puts his torso out the window, spreading his legs enough and leaning out, bending carefully, deeply, and eventually transferring a whimpering, squeaking Rocco to one arm, as he braces himself on the sill. Then, with a cringe, and a murmured apology, he grabs him hard by the collar and scruff, provoking a hurt, puppyish whimper, before he lowers him down as far as he can so his kicking bottom feet are within reach of Chris's hands.

Bob lets go and just prays that he has him, rearing back fast to grab the gun, clear the hall behind him again, before swinging his own leg out the window, one, and then the next.

Thankfully catching Rocco is easy with the small distance, and Chris pulls the puppy close to his chest and wraps a side of his singed coat gently around him. "Hey, little guy, you're okay."

And alright, now Bob's climbing down, so Chris need to get out of the way. He takes a step back onto his bad leg and it immediately gives out; he sinks to the ground and decides to just stay there for the moment, hugging Rocco gently and hoping once they're all out the monsters won't follow.

And that there aren't more monsters out here, too.

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