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Mist gathered around the surface of the lake, and drifted off of it, covering everything. From the observation deck, she couldn't even see the lake, the fog was so thick. She couldn't help but wonder if it was always like this, and if it was-- why have an observation deck at all? It looked nothing like the pictures she had seen. And the brochure had promised "clear waters good for swimming and rowing, can be seen from the observation deck, lakeview Hotel and everywhere in between". This certainly wasn't much of a view, though.

Her parents had paid for her to be here. They hadn't spoken in years, but as an apology they sent her a plane ticket. It was what Riley had always wanted, her parents approval. That was all she'd ever asked for, and so here she was-- and she didn't even care that the view was s**t, or that she hadn't seen another tourist since she'd stepped off the bus and made the walk to the observation deck, because this was her biological parents' apology-- and, dammit, she was going to accept the hell out of it.

Riley Carson was nineteen years of age. She was of platinum blond hair and gray eyes, her hair fell in gentle waves down her back, and hung shorter in the front. She was pale, almost as if some illness had pulled the color from her skin, and the life from her eyes. She was thin, and just below average height. Her eyes were enormously expressive, as she was, more often than not, silent-- if there was nothing to say, nothing would be said.

Her footing was sure, but the wooden planks creaked beneath even her slight weight-- they looked as if they were rotting, having been left to their own devices for years, maybe even decades. No, this surely wasn't the place from the brochure. Why had her parents sent her here?

A field bag hung loose, floppy at her hips, swaying with each step. From it, she pulled the brochure. It had been sent to her in the mail, with the plane ticket. This was definitely where they wanted her to go. Her steps drew her down the stairs from the observation deck, a place that was supposed to lead to a better view of the lake, though she doubted it would. The deck was wood, the steps were concrete, and the rest of the path was dirt, with its natural cracks and wear intact. There was only a rope barrier between her and the lake, though all she could see was a wall of mist, closing in on her.

Clouds blocked out the sun, creating a dreary air about the place, despite the fact that it was still light out. She could see just fine, everything with a two foot radius, but everything felt gloomy, sad. Riley opened the brochure. It was crinkled, but legible. When opened completely, it featured a map, but on one of the sleeves, the white of a picture of a couple rowing a boat, there was written in red "waiting for you". Riley couldn't quiet suppress the gasp of surprise. That was something she hadn't seen before, and in its brightness she found it hard to believe that she had overlooked it. The caption under the photo read: "take a rowboat out on Toluca Lake". Riley's eyes were drawn to the lake, and her steps took her involuntarily toward the rope. She leaned against it, staring out at the lake, looking for anything. Movement? It was hard to tell, with all of the fog, and even so-- her eyes could be playing tricks on her.

Riley tried hard to shake the feeling. She closed the brochure, and tucked it back into her bag, no longer willing to look at it. Her parents were here, she told herself the story to try and to ease her mind, they were here to make nice, to make up for all of the years apart. "We're so sorry." That's what they would say, her mother would choke back tears, "it was the pain talking, we didn't mean a thing we said." Her father would be stoic, but he would be touched, Riley would know exactly how he felt, despite the fact that he wouldn't say a thing. Everyone would cry, and hug, and then they would all go home, and everything would be right again.

Riley wiped her eyes, despite the fact that they were dry. That's exactly how it would go, and she would stay here until they could find her, or the other way around-- they would be a family again. The dirt road stopped in front of a gate. Despite the fact that the path had turned away from the lake, it was still too foggy to see far. Riley peered through the gate, trying to see what she was walking into before she actually did. She could make out the shapes of graves, a cross in the distance. A graveyard? It seemed an inconvenient place for one, though she realized the necessity. The gate had a lock, but it looked broken. In fact, part of it hung from the gate limply, the metal it was caged in bent and dented. Who would want to break into a graveyard? Riley pushed the gate open and took her first steps into what felt like a land mine, already full of corpses.

[OOC: Sorry 'bout the length. I was so excited about this rp that I started typing, and when I stopped, it was really long. D;]

((I have no idea how to do all that fancy picture stuff in the boxes, even if I did I'd need to shrink something))

You know your day is going to be superb when you get a letter through the post with the ominous warning that you will burn in hell for the sins you have committed even when said sin was not even your fault. Well that happened to Jonathan Gregs, a letter came in the post telling him that someone held him responsible for an incident that occurred two years ago, the incident in question was a terrorist attack on a church in Virginia. Jonathan was part of the bomb squad sent in to disarm the bomb, easier said than done when his squad was mauled to death by some cannibal cult hiding in the basement of the church which caused the bomb to explode killing twenty christians, a few priests and twelve children.

If someone was holding him responsible for this then it made Jonathan feel terrible, no not terrible, he felt like hanging himself right now. The stress from that incident had caused his golden blonde hair to lose it's colour almost becoming grey, the guilt from that explosion had caused him to become violent and for him to quit his job and become a store clerk. The letter he received demanded that he come to a town called Silent Hill in New England, quite a distance to travel just to clear up a misunderstanding however Jonathan felt that he needed to do this, confess that he wasn't to blame even if he was the only one who could've stopped it. He had taken a bus for most of the journey but not a single soul would take him the full way to Silent Hill, he had hitch-hiked about six times and then walked the rest of the way.

Silent Hill, well it lived up to it's name, it was silent so silent you could hear a moose tip toe across the street. The thick fog however really interfered with Jonathan's eyesight but he felt reassured knowing that his trusty side arm was tucked into his belt, however his eyesight wasn't that great since the church cannibals got one of his eyes and a bit of his face. "Well, better find this crackpot and clear this whole mess up, this place gives me the creeps". Jonathan's wheezy voice didn't make the place any less silent, charming, just charming.

The fog extended even farther from the lake, and she could see only a bit of the graveyard through the fence. Riley pushed the slammed locking mechanism out of the way as she pushed the gate open. The creaking noise was expected, though something in her mind still hit the panic button. This was beyond creepy.

There was a kind of art to the way that graveyards were usually put together, to be easy to maneuver and to hold some amount of beauty-- as if to grant those that rested there some peace through the grace of the place in which they were buried. All of this was lost to Riley, especially due to the fog. Who she was looking for, she doubted they would be here. She'd seen enough of her parents in graveyards, sobbing their eyes out about whoever. Riley was sick of it. And it wasn't an adequate place for them to start their new life as a real family.

Quietly, Riley was pulling the gate closed behind her. Why quietly? She wasn't sure, but the place was so quiet already, that any noise at all seemed out of place. She hated to make any more than she had to. A voice shocked her out of her thoughts. "Fancy meeting anyone in Silent Hill," She suddenly stood straighter, and she looked up hopefully. Disappointment colored her expression.

The man in particular that she was looking for, she hadn't seen him in a long time. She was no longer sure of his voice, or what he might look like. She only knew that she would recognize him when she saw him, and this was not him. He was far too young. In fact, there was a good chance that he was about her age. He was stoic, emotionless, and Riley was determined to return the same cold, aloof air.

"You shouldn't be so surprised. This place is supposed to be a resort." Though there seemed to be some separation between what should've been and what was, though a graveyard wasn't a good example of the rest of the town. What visitors would come here, in fact, what visitors would want to come here? Riley wasn't looking for conversation, or companionship. She preferred being alone, at least, until she found who she was looking for.

[OOC: Sorry, I know it's kind of short.]

xxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxseamus jacob erikson






Seamus wasn't quite ready to go into town. It'd been years since he'd felt comfortable around other people. These days, all they were to him were time bombs. A tragedy waiting to happen. They were all just premortem. Seamus had been walking out of the park and down the street, just on the outskirts of town when his gaze set upon a gate. It was a formidable thing, though already the gate was ajar. The lock was warped, as if it'd been smashed. Gave robbers? The idea was sickening, really. Seamus himself had loved ones planted in the ground, and it was all too easy to imagine the precious jewelry and family heirlooms they'd been buried with being stolen by some stranger.

He had been hesitant to enter, but the idea of missing anything he was intended to find was a far worse alternative. He didn't close the gate behind him, it would've felt too much as if he were locking himself in for a long stay. The fog was dense, hard to see, but a voice called out, not far off, "Hello? Anyone here?" Somehow, Seamus hadn't expected to see other people, though he probably ought to have. There was no way he could've had even an abandoned town all to himself.

Still, though, the idea of other people wasn't reassuring. He was hesitant to answer, even though he was stepping farther into the graveyard, pausing to note the etchings on a headstone. The name was unfamiliar, as it should've been. He could hear other voices, then, and he was almost sure it wasn't his imagination. Despite himself, Seamus approached. A young man and woman, maybe younger than himself-- but looks could be deceiving.

"Am I intruding?" He inquired, though his tone of voice suggested that he didn't care. Other human contact was somewhat reassuring, though he knew that whatever misery befell him, it was only a challenge before the final prize-- the answer he was looking for.

It wasn't so uncommon for Riley to receive the exact opposite of her wishes. She'd hoped to be alone, or for this encounter to clear itself up quickly-- and here were two more guys. None of them introduced themselves, and only the last one even put up a front of having any optimism in him. Ironically, that was the one with the bandaged face.

The final one looked a lot older, it might've been the gray hair-- but there were people that grayed young. The wounds looked old, which led Riley to believe his hair was grayed from stress. Past the hair, he couldn't have been older than mid twenties.
The guy with dark hair looked older, as well. But without any face-marring scars, it was hard to misjudge his age-- he was probably early twenties, though he held himself with a hopeless look that projected him older.

They all had seemed a little surprised to see others here, and it only made sense to cling to other life in a ghost town. The last man that approached, the one with the bandages, expressed just that and asked what they were doing here, in this town. Hell, he sounded like he owned the place, even if there was no true bitterness in his voice. But Riley would've taken it the wrong way, anyway, being as defensive as she was.

She almost considered a lie. Her story would sound crazy to anyone else, so she didn't want to have to explain it. She could stay vague, the details weren't important-- and how could it hurt her, to tell the truth? "I'm meeting my parents here." The truth felt wrong on her lips, especially after she'd been spewing lies and excuses to her friends and co-workers, back at home. Her mom was sick, or her dad was back in the hospital (her go-to excuse). Because there were people that would've wanted to know more, and Riley wouldn't let anyone dash her dreams of the reuniting that was to come.

No questions was good. Any mind in perfectly working order would've thought that there would be no questions-- it was an airtight reason, that had the luck of being true. There was no reason to question it, but life had kept Riley Carson on her toes at all times, convinced her it was the only way to survive.

He mentioned that her reason was a hell of a lot better than his, which begged a question-- but Riley thought it best not to pry, he could tell her of his own accord. He introduced himself as Jonathan Gregs. That begged an answer, one that she might actually answer. "Riley Carson." She introduced herself, and glanced past him at the rest of the graveyard. Something told her there was nothing else for her, here.

Jonathan breathed into his hands, and only then did Riley realize how cold it was. She wasn't dressed appropriately, but she'd been so caught up she hadn't even noticed the temperature-- probably it was the sun being all blocked out, or the chilled fog rising off of the lake. Jonathan suggested that they talk elsewhere. The graveyard too much for him?

He suggested that some crazy might be out to get them. "What, and a big strong man like you couldn't fight them off?" Despite herself, Riley offered him a teasing little smirk. It was easy to be in good spirits when something she had been waiting for for years was finally happening. Riley asked, "Where would you rather we talk?" She asked, but cast a glance back at the other two guys. They'd been unresponsive, thus far.

When the girl named Riley teased Jonathan about not being able to fight off any psychos who came after then, despite her playful intentions she had pushed a few buttons. "....Fighting off psychopaths and lunatics is the reason I'm in this damn situation in the first place and why I look like this". He sighed gently before digging his hands deep into his coat pockets, he just wanted to get somewhere less suspicious and morbid. He had seen enough graves in his lifetime.

"Seems like three of us are here for someone or something". Jonathan decided that there was no point in being vague or telling a lie, he had enough guilt and worry on his shoulders. "I'm here because someone is holding me responsible for an accident, the person wanted me to come here. I doubt any of you heard about the incident in Virginia two years ago?". He felt as if he was confessing to his sins, which would've been a good thing.