hadriel_logs | Event Log: The Hills Are Silent

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Event Log: The Hills Are Silent

Who: Everyone!
What: The Silent Hill event
Where: Throughout the city
When: June 15th-20th
Warnings: Silent Hill comes to Hadriel, and with it, a few personalized monsters

On the morning of June 15th, a thick fog rolls into Hadriel. There's nothing quite terrifying about it yet, but it manages to drain the city of color, forcing a grey backdrop onto everything behind it. Feel free to go try to check it out if you want, just be careful, because it won't be too long until the sirens start blaring.

There's not exactly a reasonable explanation for where the sound is coming from: Hadriel doesn't have a speaker system, or any warning sirens in place for when something horrible happens. But you'd better find cover quickly, because shortly after the sirens start wailing, the city begins to change. Walls and furniture start to peel, revealing a bloody, hellish version of the city that you once knew. In addition, the monsters from the bestiary will roam the city, as well as a few other monsters that might hit a little closer to home.

Some characters may run into monsters which embody their own sins or insecurities. Some characters may be pursued by their friends' hellish mirrors. One thing is clear: you don't want any of these things catching you. Luckily, it isn't long before Hope makes a post, declaring the god temples as safe zones from all the creatures that are now loose upon the city.

The sirens will fade within a few hours, and the city will fall back to normal, the monsters will retreat back into the fog as if they were never there, and everything seems to be fine again, as if that terrifying experience was just some kind of twisted dream. You can tell yourself that, if you like... but that won't help much the next time the sirens start again.

► This log covers June 15th-20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
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► Any number of things could murder you here. If you wind up on the unfortunate end of Pyramid Head's chain, please remember to hit up our death post!

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Hm. That's an interesting response. Most people would find the state of things outside unfortunate indeed. Something is clearly outside the norm with this one. But Near doesn't look up, doesn't visibly react the slightest bit.

"It causes quite a bit of fuss and makes basic living more difficult than it needs to be." And Near is poor at basic living skills to begin with, so this is rather irritating. He nudges a card minutely to perfect its placement on the tower. "I am called Near. Yourself?"

This is . . . sort of making conversation. It's not something Near has ever been good at -- or very interested in -- but he's improved slightly over the past several months. His phrasing might suggest that this is not actually his name, but nothing about his thoughts will indicate so. His real name is something that has hardly crossed his mind in many years. The tendril of power may pick up that Near finds the flippant response to the situation interesting and unusual, but nothing else.

Ushahin pushes a lock of fair blonde hair away from his face. He sits down again, a little too close inside Near's personal space, heedless of any discomfort it might cause him. "Some call me Ushahin, other Dreamspinner." He thinks of gently probing inside the boy's mind, but decides against it. If he slips into someone's mind right now, there's a chance he may miss out on something going on out in this strange version of reality.

"So many nightmares outside instead of inside where they belong." He much prefers them when they're inside people's heads. Then he gets to play around with them, enhancing them or banishing them as his moods suites him.

There's a subtle hint of tension in Near's body when Ushahin gets too close. Near very much likes his personal space and greatly dislikes when someone violates it without express permission. But that isn't something he deigns to demonstrate physically, if he can help it. When people know how to get to you, they use it. Near certainly does.

The title and the way he speaks are interesting to put together, suggestive of some manner of connection. He hadn't been sleeping a moment ago, contrary to appearances. Hm. This seems like the time to address the issue, then.

"Were you traversing ones on the inside a moment ago, when it only looked like you were asleep?"

"Indeed. I find it easiest to keep an eye on everything when people are asleep. Their dreams show far more than their waking minds ever do." He'd used his abilities for many years to spy upon his master's enemies. Even now, far from home and without a purpose, Ushahin finds that old habits die hard. Knowledge gives one power and he's determined not to be caught off-guard in this new place.

Both his eyes focus in on Near, the right's pupil growing in size while the left remains fixed in its large, blown-out state. He takes in Near's appearance as if seeing him fully for the first time. One hand, the crooked right, reaches out and plucks a card from the tower. He turns it over in his fingers. "What nightmare has come to visit you?"

Knowledge does give power, especially in the line of work that Near had been trained for since early childhood. Schooled in how to root out information . . . but also schooled to hide it about himself. To get that power but not give it.

Near is a pathetic sight, really. While he shows no sign of any injury or disfigurement, his pallour is an unhealthy-looking one and he's thin even accounting for his smaller stature. His own eyes follow the hand that plucks the card from the tower, the faintest hint of irritation flickering behind the otherwise impassive gaze for just a second. Had that been necessary? The card is not from a traditional playing deck; rather, it's tarot, that particular one perhaps ironically being Tower.

He stops building for now, watches the crooked hand holding the pilfered card.

"No specific one." The lie rolls off smoothly, even if the image of the bodiless Indigo Illuminant does flit through his mind. "I merely find myself unsuited to handle the ones roaming the streets."

That part, at least, is true.

Edited 2016-06-21 04:39 (UTC)

"Then you are weak." He doesn't say it with scorn or derision, merely pointing out facts. Those who cannot face the monsters must have a weakness within them that prevents them from venturing out beyond the temple. Truth be told, this boy looks like one good gust of wind would do him in. Ushahin doesn't base too much truth in appearances. His own is far from perfect and yet look at the powers he can wield.

Ushahin focuses on the card for a moment before replacing it carefully on top of the tower. His hand trembles with the effort to create such small, careful movements. "Are you a seer?" It's a reasonable assumption, given that Near has a stack of tarot cards.

"Hm, yes."

He could lie about that, argue it, but it would be too readily and easily be proven to be just that. And would only harm him in the process. A lie on this subject would be pointless. The words are said without shame, however. That he's physically weak is something that Near has long ago acknowledged and accepted; strength of the body is not a thing emphasized as important in his childhood.

The tower shivers a bit as the card is placed back upon it, and Near's hand snaps out to pick it back up before the tower topples from the imprecise movement. He's frail, yes, but his reactions are quick and precise.

"No, there's no such thing where I am from." Though the assumption is indeed reasonable enough. "The cards are just for building."

Edited 2016-06-21 08:05 (UTC)

Ushahin likes that Near admits to his weakness so readily without protest or argument. Anyone who can do that is self-aware enough to also know what their strengths are. He also seems to be a bit obsessive-compulsive if a single card threatening to collapse his tower makes him adjust it back. Or maybe he just doesn't want to start the process all over again.

"Pity. I was going to have you ask them how much longer we should remain here," he says. He folds his right hand back up against his side like a bird tucking an injured wing out of sight. Even the brief actions have left his fingers aching. It is alright. Pain wis just another way to channel his powers.

"Tell me about your world." It's not like they've got anything better to do with their time while they're currently stranded in the temple.

Near likes logic and efficiency. If he tries to claim he can do necessary things that he is in fact unable to do, that compromises efficacy. He knows what talents he has, and which he doesn't. People who have the ones he lacks are to be used for those.

He does conveniently leave out that he has some defense against magical assaults, though. Better to be underestimated than overestimated.

The assessment of Near as somewhat obsessive-compulsive is not wrong, really. It would be even more obvious if he were building with dice, ensuring that each one is aligned perfectly and facing the same way for the sake of a completely uniform appearance. But he currently is not in the possession of any dice. It's just as well; he couldn't have carried a decent enough number to the temple with him.

Carefully, he places the card back on the tower and reaches down for another. Out of his peripheral vision, he notes the way Ushahin tucks his hand in, as if it's paining him. "How long has your hand been like that?"

Yes, he is ignoring the request for information.

Edited 2016-06-22 05:03 (UTC)

Ushahin picks up another card from the deck with his left hand. This one is strong and whole. If one looks at it for too long, they will realize there is something uncanny about the way the arm looks. It is far too perfect and graceful looking to be the limb of someone who is completely human.

He glances a long while at the card he has picked up. The Moon. A card that tells to beware of deceitful people but who are only out for their own gains. He frowns, trying to decide if Near is seeking general knowledge or if he's just being a nosy nuisance. Finally, he decides to answer truthfully. "A long, long time. More than a thousand years. I have lost track." That was a free one. He won't get another until he answers Ushahin's query.

It's entirely possible that Near does not precisely know where the line is drawn between seeking general knowledge and being a nosy nuisance. And even if he does, he is unlikely to care. For his part, he is at the moment merely noting an oddity and wishing to understand it, whether his questioning is appropriate or not.

Taking a card from the deck is far less irritating than taking one from the tower. This time, there will be no reaction. But he does notice the inhuman perfection of that hand in stark contrast to the other one. That's interesting. "So you aren't human, despite appearances?"

Yes, he is still failing to answer the question. He might need to be told this is an exchange. And even then, it depends on how badly he wants the answers to his own questions that he will play along.

Ushahin flips the card in between his fingers, letting it go back and forth as Near asks his second question. He answers, impressed that the boy picked up on that. "Yes. You are the first to notice." Aside from his arm, there's no real way to tell besides the way he has of fluidly moving, more graceful than any man could ever achieve, and the way he has of sitting perfectly still that no one could ever fully accomplish. "I am half-man and half-Ellyl." He doesn't elaborate on just what an Ellyl is. Being reminded of his heritage is a delicate subject for the immortal, one that can easily turn sour.

He decides to change the subject. "Now I have answered two of your questions. I will not answer a third until you answer one of mine."

To be fair, it's only partially the unnaturally smooth movements that had caused him to wonder that. The rest comes from the fact that Ushahin had said his other hand has been crippled for over a thousand years. That's a strong indication of not being human, unless there is some universe out there where the species is exceptionally long-lived, or some magical effect had been placed upon him.

Near has, through no influence of his own, traveled to several worlds by now and makes it a point to keep his mind open to a myriad of possible truths. With so many possibilities, they're harder to separate from fiction now, but he has no complaint. It allows him to stretch his mind.

Still, the smallest of smiles briefly pulls at his lips when his guess is confirmed to be correct.

"My world, I'm afraid, isn't terribly exciting compared to this place." It's half an answer at best. "What is an Ellyl? Those don't exist in mine."

"Considering what this place has been like thus far, I do think not terribly exciting might be an improvement." There was a wry sort of expression on Ushahin's face. He didn't mind the fog and monsters, but then, he was a rather unusual sort of person.

Something steely enters his blue eyes, turning them hard an cold. "They were the race created by the eldest god Haomane. Beautiful, perfect, vain, pointy-eared, and utter bastards." This last bit is said in the same casual tone as the rest of the description. "They are cold and so caught up in appearances and zealotry that they don't care what their effect on others might be. My only consolation is that the whole race of them is going to die out sooner rather than later." He'd seen where the whole line of them was going, the delicate thread that barely kept them alive, and couldn't be happier at what the end result was going to be.

The monsters make things far more difficult than they need to be physically, which is Near's primary complaint with them. Otherwise, he's not tremendously fussed about them. But he's never been a normal person, either, and his upbringing has only reinforced that strangeness.

He listens patiently as he continues to build, mentally ticking off just how many of these qualities he can also ascribe to Light Yagami, even human as the bastard had been. Quite a few, honestly. If Near were more capable of empathy, he might have felt some for the anger they appear to incite in his company.

"People like that are a very unpleasant sort." Perhaps not empathy, but he can offer agreement. "You say they'll die out soon with a lot of certainty. Why is that?"

"They refused the gift of my lord, the god Satoris. He offered them the quickening of the flesh that would have led to reproduction." Boiled down to its essence, it was lust and sex that he had offered them, but Ushahin would never use such crass terms to describe the gift that had been his master's.

"Their god Haomane didn't want them to have it, for he was a jealous god, and wanted his creations to be above all others that the gods had created. But without it, they reproduce hardly at all, and so they fade away more and more as the years go by. When they disappear altogether, I shall be very well satisfied." Maybe then the bitterness in Ushahin's heart towards that half of his heritage will finally disappear, though he doubts it. They had made of him a monster and a monster he would remain.

Hm. Frankly, those are 'gifts' that Near would have personally declined himself. He has no interest in or use for such things. Granted, he isn't an entire species.

"And he wouldn't see fit to simply create more himself in the absence of reproductive activity on their part?"

"He would if he could, but he can't. He's separated from his creations by the Sundering Sea. He won't dare to cross it as long as he thinks there is still a weapon that could kill him in the hands of his enemies." Ushahin wonders if the old god has sensed that Godslayer is no longer in Urulat. He hopes not. Haomane's cowardice was a satisfying thing to witness, and as long as their god never comes back, his enemies will never have a complete victory.

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Event Log: The Hills Are Silent

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