ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hadrielmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hadriel_logs2016-09-14 10:06 am
hadrielmods) wrote in hadriel_logs2016-09-14 10:06 am
Entry tags:
- !event,
- amos kamiya,
- bianca,
- carlisle longinmouth,
- chara,
- cole,
- dean winchester,
- elmer c. albatross,
- emily,
- firo prochainezo,
- frisk,
- helena,
- henry percy,
- inquisitor trevelyan,
- jill valentine,
- jo harvelle,
- kanda yu,
- l lawliet,
- maketh tua,
- mello,
- miriam day,
- muscovy,
- nick rivenna,
- papyrus,
- rashid,
- richie gecko,
- rukia kuchiki,
- sam,
- sandor clegane,
- sans,
- shadow the hedgehog,
- souji seta,
- stanley pines,
- tiny tina,
- tyki mikk
Event Log: Dead Men Walking
Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Dead Men Walking event!
Where: All around the city
When: September 14th-September 20th
Warnings: Zombies. Walkers. The Infected. Zeds. The undead. Risen.
What: The event log for the Dead Men Walking event!
Where: All around the city
When: September 14th-September 20th
Warnings: Zombies. Walkers. The Infected. Zeds. The undead. Risen.
Everything seems more or less normal in Hadriel on the 14th - at least at first. But wait, who's that over there? Why are they walking so weird? Are they feeling okay? Wow, did they just try to bite you? Oh shit, you might've seen a movie like this before. That was definitely a zombie.
But hey, it's no big deal. A few zombies here and there are pretty easy to avoid, especially when you can outrun them without too much trouble. They're only really dangerous if they're fast or if there are a lot of them, and they sure aren't fast! Only - well, before long, there are a lot of them. You can hardly go outside without running into one, and mobs form quickly. Went out for supplies? Let's hope they didn't follow you - you might get stuck in that shop, mobile corpses pounding on the door. Oh, and don't stand too close to the windows of your house. They'll be more than happy to smash the glass trying to get you.
Don't worry, though! A hard blow to the head will take these zombies out, and you'll be sitting pretty, as long as none of them bite you. None of them bit you... right? Wow, what a relief. We're all glad you're not concealing a life-threatening zombie bite from your friends! Who would do that, anyway? Now if you can manage that until the 20th, you'll be safe and sound as the zombies shamble out of the city. Hopefully you won't be shambling with them.► This log covers September 14th-September 20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you join the zombie party, please let us know here!
cw suicide ideation
[Not that he don't get it. Heh, he gets it a little too well, he thinks. A death wish that only runs as deep as your minimum-effort proclivities. Just kinda something passive, something you don't contest. Something that eats at your sense of self-preservation, a survivalist instinct that gradually degrades to zero.]
no subject
But there's a trick, to that. Just find something. Find one thing to clutch onto. Some playfully crinkling leaves. A mouse in a hole. The wind howling. Despite everything, it's still them. Still just them.
They know things that he doesn't, and Frisk knows, in their own way, that he doesn't want the answers to it. No.
It's a lot easier this way.]
You asked me what my name was.
You never use it.
[And that's what having better questions is all about, really. So important-- until they aren't.]
I know...you. I know about the lab behind your house, because you told me. I know you never asked me about the flower because you thought it was an echo flower. I know you when you like me-
You don't, do you?
[Again, with a blank expression. It's easier to give people what they're expecting in these circumstances. Something odd and something off that makes them reconsider, turns the conversation awkward until they shuffle away with one excuse or another. Hadriel is so big, and their purpose in all of this so small that it shows, with almost painful clarity. Adults walk past with purpose, chins raised. Eyes never deviating to a kid playing in the dirt.
For being underground, it's a lot more like the surface than Sans probably realizes.]
no subject
God, he just -
They look at him, and they don't see a friend. They don't see someone to trust. They see someone who keeps 'em in line, holds 'em accountable. They see a judge and a jury.
Chara, though. Chara got to see the executioner. Heh.]
I think I'm scared of you, a little bit.
[As long as they're playin' the honesty game here. As long as they're being open about their goddamned feelings.]
You're someone I can't really get a finger on. Something I can't predict. Something that can change everything on a dime, and here I was tryin' to hold you accountable 'cause no one else would. Except, uh.
[He chuckles faintly, but again, there's not a scrap of humor to it.]
Well, it's not like any of us ever gave you a manual, huh?
[His sockets slide closed, his smile maybe - maybe trending towards pained, a little bit.]
Think maybe I was so bent on balancin' the scales that I didn't spend much time to consider what's fair to you.
no subject
Isn't it a bit silly, to be scared of a child?
It would be funny, if those words were actually valid. He's scared, he says, and they understand. They understand just as well as they know they can't blame him for his actions, or any actions the monsters had taken in that time. And they understand that he's being honest with them for the same reason- because he's scared.
Because this is all he has left, and maybe they'll take that away from him, too. Especially now that Papyrus-]
I'm just a kid.
[Faint, almost dazed. They pluck at their sweater; the honorary stripes across their chest that announce to the world that yes, in fact, they are just a child, and it's hard to say who they're trying to convince, here. Him, or them.]
I wouldn't- I know I d-
I'm not going to hurt anybody anymore.
no subject
[God. God, how dare he. Their fingers fiddle compulsively with the threads of their striped shirt and they're a child and he - he kinda wishes he could take it back.
Kinda wishes he could.
But that's never been his ball game. Not even really his ball park, it's just that he's got a glorified backstage pass and cheated the red tape a little. That's really all he's got to his name, heh. Everything he knows is just more or less a fluke. An accident. Somethin' that got thrust on him without his say-so, without his consent, and now? Now, congrats, Sans, welcome to a world of responsibility you never asked for. Only, see, somebody's gotta do it, and you're the only guy qualified, it turns out.
Still. Their tone, the way the words hum across - they're just a kid.
They're just a goddamn kid.
But they're layin' the cards on the table. Even. Clean. Simple.]
Point is. I gotta keep that in mind a little better than I have been, I think. I owe ya that.
no subject
[Fingers still, just from the implications of it all. He owes them, so he'll...do whatever, right? To make things better.
Even things he doesn't want to do. Even if him not wanting to do those things would be- a little more upsetting than if he didn't simply just say he didn't want to do them. The disappointment that comes with promises that aren't kept, because there was never any intention to keep them in the first place.
There's a lot of things they won't do to him. And that's one of them. So even if he's not quite ready for it, himself, they still look to him with a shadow of understanding and a sad smile, four fingers running across the flat of their palm in a repeated motion.]
I forgive you. You don't owe me.
[You don't have to do anything you don't want to.]
no subject
I forgive -
Oh god. God. Kid.
They just - don't even give it a second thought, huh? Just figures they forgive him, say it's all good, and it's all good then, is it? And it's so easy and he - god he ran outta the steam required for hate a long damned time ago, but he - he resents himself for being okay with that and he resents them for assuming that'd just be enough and maybe even knowing that it would be -
Don't have to do anything you don't want to, Sans.
And he doesn't want to. God but he doesn't want to.
He'd be so fucking happy to just up and leave this conversation at that.]
Okay. So, uh. Hate to be bother, but now I got another question for ya.
[Isn't that just so funny, huh. Hilarious.]
Why.
[He makes it more a hard interrogation than a question and he regrets it, a bit, the spike driven into the softness of their apparent forgiveness of him, their insistence that he don't owe them anything.]
no subject
It's not even really talking, is it? He doesn't ask if they want to answer; doesn't even pause between the words. There's a sharpness there that wasn't a second ago with all his soft insistence, and that's enough of an indication that he hasn't heard what he wanted to hear.
Maybe he needs an excuse. A promise to a lady with an integrity you can't say no to, an inability to afford not caring anymore- just something. Anything, to give himself the excuse to do anything at all. So then it's not because he wants to.
It's because he has to.
But then, they're only ten, aren't they? What would they know about any of that.]
Because... [A pause. It lingers in the air as they think it over, lips working silently through words that, for the most part, go unsaid. They can't seem to settle on an ultimate answer, simply shrugging, before choosing something that's close enough.]
I think someone should.
no subject
[As soon as the question slips out, he knows the answer. He knows the answer because he told them the answer, didn't he, he thrust that yoke of responsibility on their narrow shoulders and expected them to bear it.
'Cause they're the one with the special power.
They're the one with the responsibility to do the right thing.
Hah...so he does what he perceives to be the right goddamned thing. He watches the kid. Does a shit job of it, but he watches them. He reads the values off their code like words from a book. He judges them. He reproves them accordingly.
Then he does it all over again. Kid hears it from all over again. You killed monsters, kiddo. You did a bad thing, kiddo.
Go to hell, kiddo.
Is it any wonder they turned out the way they did? And here he is, giving 'em these conflicting messages like a complete ass and expecting that to be enough.
He wants to - fuck, he wants to stand and get the hell out. Blip on outta here. Heart-to-hearts have never been his forte, 'specially since he lacks a heart in the first place, heh. But the weariness is still weighing him down, right to his bones, and he knows that if he tries to cut corners now, it wouldn't end well.
Maybe it'd end better than this conversation seems to be heading.]
That's, ah - 'cause I all but told you so, huh?
no subject
They could say that. But it's a lie, and they know it's a lie. And he, apparently, knows it's a lie even more than they do.
It wasn't just you sits a little closer to the truth, and in all honesty, they'd be right enough. You could do a little better, he says. You have the power; take my SOUL, says Asgore. Last chance, says Undyne.
Be good, won't you?
So please, human...show some MERCY.
They're trying to. They're really trying to, but it's hard when people don't want it. And they know that even if they'd like to- take the blame for that, it's not just because of them. They know because they sleep two rooms away from someone just like that, every single night.
They used to be closer.]
I forgive you. [Frisk repeats instead, eyes cracking open just that slightest bit, a line of rusted red as their mouth sits in a firm line. He can want anything but that, he can be as angry or cutting as he pleases-
But they forgive him. He can't take that back now. It's there.
And now he has to live with it.]
no subject
Maybe their heart's just - too big. Too much. Bigger than any of 'em deserve.
Maybe the kid just doesn't know when to QUIT, huh?
Will they never be happy? Or is that just not on their radar, huh?]
I heard ya the first time, kiddo. Means a lot. I dunno where you get that from. [The capacity to...forgive. To be soft in a world where they are indicted for their sins at every turn.]
Maybe I still gotta work on forgiving myself before I believe ya, though.
no subject
That's why someone should.
[Then they look away, face settling into a more neutral expression as they survey the streets outside, taking note of bodies in the distance. Judging how long it would take, before this fragile sense of peace is displaced.]
I'll keep watching. You don't have to talk.
[Even if he can't forgive himself, maybe he can at least give himself some rest.]
no subject
His? Nah, his ego ain't that big. He thinks it's more to do with the way the Underground simply was. He sure as shit didn't help their issues, any. He knows that for certain.
He'd love to push the point, but they got determination, and what's he got, huh? Nothin' but bad puns and ketchup and exhaustion. As per the norm, then.
He eyes them for a long moment, then settles more securely in his spot and lets his eyesockets droop shut.]
Thanks, kid.
[He's asleep in minutes.]