【Rey】 (
circumitus) wrote in
hadriel_logs2016-11-11 08:56 pm
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like a vagabond through the distance [OPEN]
Who: Rey and You!
What: Awful harmonica playing + dealing with the aftermath of a certain visitor flavor.
When: All over the month of November.
Warnings: Rey can't play instruments for shit and I'm sorrynot really sorry okok.
Also the second prompt will likely have some triggering themes of trauma and torture and whatever. I'll update if necessary.
I. Harmonica Song (Far As the Road Goes, I'll Go the Road)
Music is a gift. People find comfort in it during dire times. Much like the instrument itself, the breathy notes of the harmonica has a nostalgic quality to Rey's ears.
Unfortunately for everyone else within a twenty-foot vicinity of her, she is both tone-deaf and can't play for shit.
Somehow, her brother always made it look easier. Her tune doesn't sound nearly like the scenes of old movies she's seen before, with the weary prisoner playing melancholy tunes reminding him of home or the bad-ass cowboy on an epic pursuit for revenge. It sounds more akin to a wailing cat being strangled to death.
And you've got front-row seats to the worst performance you've probably ever seen before in your life. Like it or hate it (let's not kid ourselves here -- you'll hate it), the player doesn't care. She doesn't even believe that this harmonica fell out of the Door and into Firo's possession for a reason. If anything, she doesn't believe in fate, or destiny, or whatever and never has. Because it's seriously doubtful that providence would throw such a terrible instrument at Rey's feet to deliver youa beautiful presentation of unrealized talent torture.
Truth is, she's just bored. That's all there is to it. Patrols are boring. Sitting in bars by her lonesome is boring. Everything is boring.
If music is one of the many spices of life, then Rey's delivery is its antithesis of a flavor most foul.
But that's just like, my opinion.
II. First Spiral Neighborhood (But Now We Move a Different Way)
Despite the relief efforts of easing some stress and paranoia, Rey's occasional excursions offer no respite. When she heads home, her bearing is heavy, and she hasn't slept in some time. Not when she sees the same face every time she closes her eyes, before a flash of red and visions of blood and pain hurls her awake.
Better to be restless than being shaken up in the middle of the night in sweat and panic. Most of the time, she can't even hide that she's more dazed than usual lately. IV's presence may be gone. The lingering memories of her atrocities and the scar near Rey's own heart, however, remains.
She stops before she enters her house, slowly taking a step back. A hand comes up over her chest, the mark from the rebar mercifully hidden beneath the cloth of her shirt.
Without even realizing it, she's gone pale again. What more, she's been standing still for a while, just staring at the door to her own home. This place where she should feel safe.
Yet, at any point, she can be taken back. And the worrying reminder will never leave, no matter how comfortable she gets.
IV is gone. But like the plant, her untreated poison festers.
III. Choose Your Own Adventure (Freedom is the Way I Live)
[ooc: Have some other non-event stuff you want to do with Rey? Hit me up via any one of your preferred contact methods!]
What: Awful harmonica playing + dealing with the aftermath of a certain visitor flavor.
When: All over the month of November.
Warnings: Rey can't play instruments for shit and I'm sorry
Also the second prompt will likely have some triggering themes of trauma and torture and whatever. I'll update if necessary.
I. Harmonica Song (Far As the Road Goes, I'll Go the Road)
Music is a gift. People find comfort in it during dire times. Much like the instrument itself, the breathy notes of the harmonica has a nostalgic quality to Rey's ears.
Unfortunately for everyone else within a twenty-foot vicinity of her, she is both tone-deaf and can't play for shit.
Somehow, her brother always made it look easier. Her tune doesn't sound nearly like the scenes of old movies she's seen before, with the weary prisoner playing melancholy tunes reminding him of home or the bad-ass cowboy on an epic pursuit for revenge. It sounds more akin to a wailing cat being strangled to death.
And you've got front-row seats to the worst performance you've probably ever seen before in your life. Like it or hate it (let's not kid ourselves here -- you'll hate it), the player doesn't care. She doesn't even believe that this harmonica fell out of the Door and into Firo's possession for a reason. If anything, she doesn't believe in fate, or destiny, or whatever and never has. Because it's seriously doubtful that providence would throw such a terrible instrument at Rey's feet to deliver you
Truth is, she's just bored. That's all there is to it. Patrols are boring. Sitting in bars by her lonesome is boring. Everything is boring.
If music is one of the many spices of life, then Rey's delivery is its antithesis of a flavor most foul.
But that's just like, my opinion.
II. First Spiral Neighborhood (But Now We Move a Different Way)
Despite the relief efforts of easing some stress and paranoia, Rey's occasional excursions offer no respite. When she heads home, her bearing is heavy, and she hasn't slept in some time. Not when she sees the same face every time she closes her eyes, before a flash of red and visions of blood and pain hurls her awake.
Better to be restless than being shaken up in the middle of the night in sweat and panic. Most of the time, she can't even hide that she's more dazed than usual lately. IV's presence may be gone. The lingering memories of her atrocities and the scar near Rey's own heart, however, remains.
She stops before she enters her house, slowly taking a step back. A hand comes up over her chest, the mark from the rebar mercifully hidden beneath the cloth of her shirt.
Without even realizing it, she's gone pale again. What more, she's been standing still for a while, just staring at the door to her own home. This place where she should feel safe.
Yet, at any point, she can be taken back. And the worrying reminder will never leave, no matter how comfortable she gets.
IV is gone. But like the plant, her untreated poison festers.
III. Choose Your Own Adventure (Freedom is the Way I Live)
[ooc: Have some other non-event stuff you want to do with Rey? Hit me up via any one of your preferred contact methods!]
no subject
"Well, if the soundproofing is familiar to me, I thought we should be seeing a hint of you somewhere around here," he suggests calmly. If the place seems inclined to head towards the disturbing, he doesn't mind helping it along a little... just to see Rey's reaction. From the little hints he'd gotten here and there, he still wondered if she was an experiment of some kind, herself. "Demihuman researchers didn't want to hear the screams of their test subjects," he adds more seriously, pointedly turning his head to the raised pattern spread across the walls and ceiling.
no subject
"Of course they wouldn't. Would probably be too distracting, assuming they're not the type who'd enjoy that sort of thing." She scoffs. "But no. Never had that problem before."
Mostly because she didn't have a voice to scream with for a long time.
That's when she stops at the end of the hallway.
The very last door is cracked open. Slowly, it swings further ajar.
no subject
And laying on one of the tables was the same bandage-wrapped form with 004 stamped across the forehead that they'd both seen in their last visit to this part of the city, unmoving.
"Hmm?" is about the full extent of Sato's curious articulation, stepping carefully into the room under the flickering fluorescent lights.
no subject
Keeping a distance between her and the table, she moves at an angle just enough for her to see the same numbers on its bandages. A brow arches.
"If this one is 'four', then where are the first three?"
Or maybe the numbers have a different sort of significance.
no subject
It still doesn't move, not even when he's standing beside it.
"Should we see who's in there, then?" he asks, reaching over to tug at the bandages over the face.
That's when it goes horribly wrong.
The bandages split open, revealing only the briefest flash of rusted nails, needles, and tiny serrated blades inside before they wrap around Sato's forearm. He utters a brief noise, more surprise than pain, and fires the crossbow almost point-blank into the thing to no effect. It moves less like a person and more like the bandages themselves are animate, as bloody spots start to appear on the parts that have engulfed his arm and more strips start to crawl up past his elbow, anchoring themselves with sharp barbs.
no subject
Before she can tell him what a terrible idea it is to get handsy with a local created in a hellscape, it's already enveloped Sato's arm. Rather than asking if he's all right or taking immediate action, her brows just lift in dull surprise at the scene in front of her.
Once she sees it trying to literally consume him, she withdraws a ten-inch knife, sheathed at the side of her boot. She moves forward, taking a clean swing at Sato's disabled arm. Severing it from his shoulder before the bandages could snake up any farther.
no subject
Sato supports himself on one of the other tables a couple yards away. But once it's clear it isn't getting up to pursue anyone, he doesn't bother to wait for blood loss, resetting himself with a quick stab directly into the heart and sliding down behind the table for a couple seconds.
When he gets back up, he might be missing a shirt sleeve, but there's a new clean arm back in place like nothing ever happened.
He'd thought it might be a monster with his own face or something similar to what he'd seen for Rey the last time they'd come here. But this... could have been an actual problem, which is an interesting new development. Still, he doesn't seem too perturbed when he remarks from the present safe distance from the thing, "That wasn't what I was expecting."