Welcome to Gaia! ::

The fog encased Neiva in a womb of swirling smoke. Visibility was nonexistent at three meters, and try as she might, the golden circle that smiled upon the world at dawn, ceased to make itself known near mid-morning. At least, she thought it was still morning. In truth, she carried neither a cell phone or watch, and had intended to stay in urban areas. ‘After all, why would he have lived in a town that’s not even on a map?’

‘Hours,’ she finally decided, ‘I’ve been walking for hours in the direction of a town I found in a 1973 road atlas. I created a false identity for a credit card, rented the cheapest car they had on the lot and abandoned the piece of s**t in a parking lot. I am walking towards a town I don’t even know exists anymore, looking for someone I don’t even know exists…’ She stopped, and quickly checked her surroundings, hoping to stem the inevitable scream of logic urging her to go back to her work, go back to the online college. The fog clung closer now, but the road was better-maintained…at least in that the plants didn’t grow between the cracks. Yet, there was fresh rubber burned onto the pavement. She followed it until a mangled street sign emerged, embraced by a car still leaking black smoke.

She paused, and instinctively grabbed her hunting knife, strapped to her thigh under her knee-length leather jacket. She clutched the knife as she approached the car, half-convinced somebody was still inside. But when she looked, the sole organic thing she found was blood splattered across the steering wheel, tiny drops staining the windshield. She then noticed the glove box open, a piece of paper hanging from the door. She leaned in and snatched the paper from its resting spot. A quick glance revealed nothing else in the car, and the trunk was jammed shut.

Neiva examined the front of the paper. An official letterhead graced the top, but the black ink had met clear water, transforming letters into a formless gray. She turned it over, and found rust colored ink elegantly congealed:

Perhaps if she had used a hanger,
Maybe he would not have left her.
What you seek is what you find,
Just be aware you won’t keep your mind.

Neiva looked up at the askew street sign, trembling. CRICHTON St.-FINNEY St.

Monsieur Penguin had found her.

Riley hated to admit it, but the bullets didn't seem to be doing much. Jonathan yelled for everyone to get back, but it didn't seem like anyone had any place to go. Horror stricken, and disgusted, Riley hardly heard the redhead yell at her first time, by the second she fumbled for the switch on the flashlight.

The dark was unnerving, and though a little bit of light filtered through the dirty windows, it didn't seem to help much. With a final, piteous whine the thing fell to the ground, and seemed to leak its insides out through the many holes in its body. Gross. The static of the radio fell to silent, and everyone seemed to savor the silence.

But not Riley. The silence was far more unsettling than the noise prior. The thing appeared to be dead, but the silence pressed so many more questions upon them. What was it? What was it doing here? How was it even possible, hell, it was obvious enough that the creature shouldn't have been able to survive at all, what being split straight down the middle, its insides gleaming. Riley wrung the flashlight between her hands, looking over at the others.

Where there was one, there had to be others, and Riley didn't like that idea at all. Maybe that explained why the town was so empty, why it seemed like everyone had left and not thought about what they were leaving behind. She was beyond reluctant to remain, hell, she wanted out of there, now-- but this place, now that the thing was dead, seemed safer than the outside world. She wondered now more than before, what figure she had seen out in the fog. It was too small to be one of the things they had just witnessed fall into its own pool of blood, and it had looked a little more than vaguely human.

"I think we should get out of here." Riley spoke quietly into the silence, though her voice sounded smaller than she had remembered it, though maybe that was the effect of all of the prior noise. She was sure she wasn't alone in her thoughts, but the last thing she would've liked to see anyone do was get any closer to the monstrosity, much less try and examine it for any clues of its origins.

[OOC: I've finally got my internet back up! <3 Naw, man, I'm fine with the cussin'.]

Maxwell Coralyn Reid

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"Both," Max spoke up, cutting the silence with the strength of her voice. Everyone looked at her. If they thought she was staying here, these people where more crazy than she thought. "Look, I didn't come here looking for anything; if anything, this place found me," she scoffed quietly. "I crashed my car over on Crichton street, and haven't been able to find a working car since. There are no cops, and this whole place seems to be deserted, save for ********> that damn thing was." Max's yellow hazel eyes floated across the room at the lump of flesh slowly rotting in its own blood. She stepped closer, ignoring a disgusted look from the man who had just spoken. She bent down to get a closer look. "It looks like some kind of ******** up experimentation, or radiation. If that's true, then we need to get out of here; there's no telling what s**t we have already been exposed to."

Standing up straighter, she looked over at the man from eariler, the one she had a bad feeling about. He was still quiet as ever, holding the radio and getting a gleam in his eyes. Max didn't like what was going on his head, whatever that may have been. Riley stood shaking across from her. "What the hell is a kid like you doing here anyway?" Max voiced aloud, not really expecting an answer from the rattled girl. What did it matter what any of them were doing here? They were here now, and they needed to get out, that's all that mattered. Maxwell didn't usually hold any sympathy for others, and now was no different. She did, however, find it against the others' odds to be unarmed. "I crashed near a police station. It's a long way off, but if you can get there, there are some guns in a locker I busted open. 'Case you're looking for weapons," she said exaspertedly, raising a hand to her forehead. Forgetting her previous injury, she winced and brought her hand back down, seeing the blood that had collected in her palm. So that explains eariler. Max fisted her hand, letting the blood run to the floor. "We do need to leave," she spoke up. "I don't know what lives here, but if this place really is abandoned, then this place could be swarming with wild animals. All this blood will attract them, and judging by this ******** monstrosity, they're probably rabid." There wasn't much blood, except oozing from the deformed carcass, so Max elaborated. "The restrooms back there are ******** up beyond belief. I'm guessing someone painted the ******** walls with blood." She grabbed Riley's arm, who was standing closest to the restroom doors. "You don't want to go in there, trust me."

Turning away, wiping the blood from her head, she began making a mental escape plan. She hoped the blood would just blend in with her hair, because the last thing she need was a bunch of goddamn strangers worrying over her. She turned to the group, spying the guy -- Jonathan -- over by a counter, looking over his gun. Turning to the man that Jonathan had named as Adam, Max looked him straight in the eye. "We need a map if we wanna go anywhere." Suddenly the room spun, blackness threatening to swirl around the edges of her vision; she grabbed the edge of the booth to steady herself. No ******** way, I'm not passing out in front of these people. "I'm sure there's one in the police station, but there's gotta be one closer around here. We need to go find one." Truthfully, Max wanted to go off on her own -- much easier if there were more of those things -- but with her current concussed state, it was probably to stay with the group for now... if they were still travelling in one. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting the <********> out of here." As an after thought, she took the crumpled poster out and smoothed it against a stack of boxes and laid it there. "Anyone know who the ******** this is? I found it when I got here." The girl's eyes stared back at her, troubling something deep within her own soul. Max was never unsettled by anything so much before, except maybe Erik when she'd left him. She looked up the others, waiting for a response, more blood trickling down her forehead and into her already blood-stained vision.

-----

((You're right; just making sure, ya never know ;D ))

Adam was the first to speak, asking if she meant the gas station or the town altogether. It was obvious he didn't expect an answer, and what that answer might've been. Of course she wanted to leave the town, after something like this. Jonathan had been righter than he could've guessed, but there was no way he could've expected something like this.

Seamus responded to Sparks wanting to leave, and Riley nodded in agreement. She never would've thought the ability to leave a luxury, but that seemed like the perfect word for it. It was obvious that Seamus intended to stay, and Riley felt she had no choice. It could be her only chance, and there was no way she was going to risk it, to anything.

Sparks was talking radiation, and her words drew Riley's eyes back down to the fallen creature. It was motionless, lying in its own pool of blood, though it was impossible to tell if the blood was from its presustained (could they be called that? Or was that just the way the damn thing naturally, naturally wasn't the right word, was?) wounds, or the bullets that Jonathan and Sparks had pumped into it. Was radiation capable of tearing a person in two, and turning the remains into individual lifeforms, joined only by their lust for blood and bodies above the hip?

Sparks was immediately demanding of Riley what she was doing here. Riley straightened up, and set her eye on the woman to lash back, maybe say something about how age meant s**t, less than s**t-- and why was she expected not to be able to take care of herself when that's how her childhood was spent? ********, what childhood? She'd gone from infant to adult before the ********' wake had even-- never mind. It wasn't worth it. Ashamed suddenly at her lack of self control, her eyes hit the floor, it was where they were most comfortable.

Sparks was outrageously long-winded. Crichton Street, that was a while off from where they were, she must've been walking a while. Riley remembered seeing it on the map. But guns? Riley'd never held a gun in her life, they appalled her in their brutality, but obviously they couldn't go weaponless. "Doesn't seem like guns did much to it." Riley muttered. It seemed like guns would be useless during their time in this place, sure it let them keep their distance, but there was no way they'd be able to carry enough of any ammo to protect themselves for any long period of time, and they couldn't expect to find more around every other corner.

Riley doubted that this place would have any wild animals, it seemed impossible that animals could live anywhere near something like this. Didn't rabid mean aggressive? The thing didn't seem rabid, Riley always thought of rabid things as being fast-moving and thirsty for blood, but even while this thing might've been the second, it moved more as if it were on strings. Twitching uncontrollably, but moving forward as if that were all it was able to do. No more alive than a marionette.

Sparks was talking again, and though Riley had been trying to listen, her mind seemed constantly elsewhere. She said something about a map, probably their needing one. "I have a map." Riley spoke up suddenly, already reaching into her field bag for it, it was in the form of the brochure she had been mailed with her plane ticket. Riley unfolded it, her eyes looking for the writing she had noticed before, but it was no longer there.
Her mind playing tricks on her? Searching for anything in this strange, new place to scare her? It wouldn't work, of course, Riley had to be here, she was going to find them.

In the center of the brochure there was a map, it folded out completely to show, in detail, places of interest. It hadn't a mark on it, which was almost sort of disappointing. Any clue would've helped, Riley knew her parents were there, in the town, somewhere, but it looked like a big town, and there was no telling where they might've been. But they were waiting for her, they'd said so themselves.

[OOC: Something like that, 'cept I think it's the guild that gets it. I hope they wouldn't be so extreme, though. =/]

Maxwell Coralyn Reid

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Max knew she was a hostile b***h, but with the s**t going on, what else was she supposed to be? Well, okay: she was normally a b***h anyway, but seriously? Whatever. Seamus was right; clearly these people had reason to be here, and she didn’t. She didn’t disagree with the guy – she wasn’t the type of agent who liked to get involved with s**t she wasn’t assigned to. Then again, she couldn’t really call herself an agent, though no one here needed to know what she did call herself. Riley didn’t seem to want to respond to her question, though Max didn’t really care much for an answer anyway; she didn’t want to get involved with other people’s problems. The girl had a tendency to mutter a lot, as if she was afraid to voice her own opinions.

As the blonde muttered, Jonathan came up with an axe, bringing it down on the middle of the deformity’s hump, slicing it in half and spilling more gore out onto the tile. “Whatever these things are, no way they’re getting back up now.” Crude means to an end, but effective none-the-less. Part of her mind nagged her curiosity, but she had said more than enough already. Max mentally punched herself. What the ******** is wrong with you? She never engaged into other people’s business unless instructed, and here she was acting like she was a ******** school teacher, asking questions and dealing out orders. Erik had always bugged her because she didn’t talk enough, and she could waste words on these people that she didn’t even know? No. Time to go back to playing solider. “Whatever. You’re right. I’ll leave this here in case anyone’s interested.”

Smoothing the poster on the sack of boxes, Max holstered her gun, fully prepared to leave, but Jonathan had to make a ******** comment. Okay, she didn’t really know s**t about nuclear explosions or radiation, but Jonathan stepped a little too far with the names. Pivoting sharply and moving faster than she thought she could with her busted head, Max grabbed the collar of Jonathan’s shirt and brought him close, clenching her other hand in a fist. Max, stop it… He’s not worth it… But Max had always been a hothead. “Look, Johnny, if you’re gonna insult me, then do it. The name’s not ‘Sparky.’ It’s Agent Maxwell Coralyn SPARKS. The name’s not an endearment.” It’s not your real name either, the thought sounded in her head, but she shut it up. They didn’t need to know her, or her history. Then let the poor man go. He probably didn’t mean to piss you off… probably. She knew this was true; everything seemed to set her off today. Dropping him, Max turned back to the door. That’s how I ******** everything up. That’s how I lost Erik.

Keeping a high head, Max left the gas station. The fog had gotten worse, and she still couldn’t see s**t. Part of her said to go back, accept Jonathan’s offer, thank Riley for sharing her map, but that would make her look like a whipped, regretful child. No; she'd made her bed, now she had to sleep in it. If one of them came for her, then she’d go back, but no way would she look like a weak coward. Besides, she didn’t think Jonathan would take well to her coming back after she just tried to bash the man’s skull in. She continued to the parking lot, checking more of the abandoned cars for power, though she knew her efforts would be fruitless before she started. Sitting in the seat of one and sighing, she saw a black figure flash into the corner of her vision. Eyes darting to the rearview mirror, she saw a black shadow move through the mist, off into the distance. “Wait!” Max called, but she quickly quieted. What if it’s another one of those freaks? Resolving to not follow the creature, Max got out of the car and saw the trunk was popped open. Had it been like that before? She walked back, careful to not glance over at the still-populated gas station and pulled out her gun. Tapping the edges of the metal, she slowly lifted the trunk and aimed inside. Expecting a body but finding none, Max let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. A body? Really, Max, you may be in a ghost town, but you’re still in reality, not a damn movie. Instead, there lay a few faded photographs. Maxwell placed her gun back in its holster and picked the pictures up gingerly. One was of a family: a man and woman and a little girl, but this little girl didn’t look anything like the girl in the poster. In fact, this photo looked not too old, and was in color. Going to flip through the photos, Max noticed something written on the back. In bold, red script was a message: “What you’re looking for is here.” Not knowing what it could mean, Max turned to the next photo.

What she saw brought on a flood of pure rage and terror. As her blood turned to ice, she the photo to the back, where there were the words, in the same lettering: “You can run, but he’ll follow you.” Max couldn’t swallow; her throat went dry and hoarse. The dumbass. He wouldn’t have… But as Max thought it, she knew it to be true. Whoever wrote this must have gotten to her car, because she had left this photograph folded and buried deep inside her glove box. And that meant they knew who she was, to be able to use this against her. Don’t pass out, don’t pass out… Entering the station and receiving numerous stares, Max handed Riley the photo. “Is this yours?” she asked bluntly, ignoring the stares. Before Riley could see, she pocketed the other photo, the one of her and Erik together on the Ferris wheel at their first date. The black was clouding more of her vision.

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((I would hope not. D: ))

_________________Trapped with those forever silenced;;xxxxxxx
_________________xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx THIS IS GOING TO TAKE THE CLARITY OUT OF ME



Adam didn't expect to get much of a response, but for some reason his response to Riley seemed to spring more of a reaction out of Sparks. He didn't think he would get a reaction at all. It was, in comparison to the speech patters of everyone else in Silent Hill he had met so far, a bit lengthier but he was okay with that, the redheads talk being more instructions than anything else. He was a little stunned when she asked for a map. He didn't like her focusing his attentions on him; her gaze was piercing and sharp and somewhat uncomfortable. Luckily she didn't focus on him too long, although he did wince a bit in discomfort. It was safe to say that he found the loud girl unnerving.

Things happened, people spoke, and suddenly, Sparks was lashing out at Jonathan. It wasn't hard to guess what he had said to her, Adam wasn't listening too much, but it had obviously been something sharp enough to make Sparks yank him by the color and have at him with a not so ladylike mouth. Adam, unlike everyone else, hadn't even glanced at the corpse to keep it from his consciousness as it fell to the ground. Riley silently folded back up the map she had out.

Sparks whirled and left the station, leaving the three of them standing in a that could be called awkward. A hasty decision to leave all on her own, and Adam almost stepped forward to stop her, his feet shuffling a bit in the silence. However, he figured she probably didn't want to hear it, being so angry at the moment that she didn't want to be consoled or confronted.

He was surprised when she came back a moment later, walking straight to Riley and trying to avoid the gazes of most in the room. She handed a slip of paper to Riley, a photo upon further inspection, that seemed to make Riley draw up shot and pause. She dropped it, then picked it up, and continued to stare for several more moments, and Adam couldn't help but be curious on what the photo was of. Finally Riley put the photo away and spoke clearly, strongly, as though reborn simply by taking a gander at the picture.

" Are we going to use the map or just wander around?" he said plainly, wanting an answer but not expecting one. Such a cast of people were unpredictable when it came to things that were a given with others.

>>Hm, I wonder: Can you get in trouble for breaking TOS if no one reports you? I didn't think the censor cops just ran around and banned peeps. =/
Even if you can get banned without being reported, I wonder what the chances of being caught are.
Also--
Has a mysterious P appeared in the title of this RP after the 'i' in "silent" for anyone else?
Grr, it's hard to keep from calling Sparks Ashley, because there's a girl in my school named Ashley Sparks. xDD
(Not a good post, I'm not feeling too well.)

LAYOUT && GRAPHIC DESIGN © RAEKAH

Maxwell Coralyn Reid

The silence was thick and heavy as a suffocating blanket over the room. Riley’s reaction and response triggered an emotion that Max hadn’t let herself feel in a long time: worry about another person. Not really the sensitive type and not knowing how to act herself, Max cringed her face, looking more pained than sympathetic, and looked hard at the blonde girl. “Riley, are you… alright?” The girl didn’t answer, and Max thought that it was probably better that way. Her next response quickly severed the awkward moment. “Are you here to stay, or will you be leaving again?” A harmless enough question, but one Max didn’t really want to have to answer. Painfully she replied, “Yes. I’ll stay. I don’t know how the hell to get out of this shithole anyway.” Giving Riley a weak smile – which probably looked more like a grimace – the red-head spoke up louder. “Your map would probably be more helpful than spending God-knows-how-long looking for another one.” It was the closest she could come to saying thank-you without losing face in front of the other. It doesn’t really matter; you’ve already lost enough face when you spazzed out earlier. She could only hope that Riley understood her meaning.

She finally turned to look at the others. Seamus was in the same place as earlier, listening but seemingly lost in his own thoughts. The other quiet one – Adam – quickly looked away as if her gaze caused him physical discomfort. This partially irritated her, but with the way she’d been acting, she couldn’t really blame him. Most people had problems looking her in the eye on a regular basis, anyway. “Are we going to use the map or just wander around?” he spoke up, directing his question across the room but looking clearly at Riley. Max waited for someone to answer, but when no one did she spoke up. “Either way, we won’t last an hour out there without weaponry.”

Jonathan had composed himself from before, and his response agreed with her statement. Of course the police station was the best place to go, but it was very far away. Max wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to get across the bridge that fast, although time here seemed meaningless. The station floor suddenly pitched, and Max lost her balance, grabbing the edge of the booth and sitting down. Taking a deep breath, the red-head wiped the blood from her forehead and faced the others. “Jonathan’s right, although it’ll be awhile before we get there… unless we can somehow get one of these cars to work. In the meantime, those without weapons need to find something, anything. If he could find that axe, then there’s gotta be something in this place.” Motioning for Riley to come over, she breathed deep again. “I know where the station is. Let’s see that map so we can find the best way to get there; maybe there’s a faster path than the way I came by.” The map was set down next to the crumpled poster Max had laid on the counter earlier. The girl’s faced still bothered her, but Max put it out of her mind for now. Besides, the photograph of her and Erik still weighed heavily in her pocket.

“No matter what, we’ve gotta get to the station, unless we can get out of here first. I didn’t bring any other weapons, and my spare ammo’s in my car. I don’t think there was any at the station though,” she struggled to remember, hanging on to the present with her consciousness only barely. Don’t pass out, don’t pass out… Her gaze went up to Seamus in the corner. “That radio,” she called, attempting to grab his attention. “Does it work?” She waited patiently for a response. Everything about Max seemed to be altered today. She was patient, she was talkative, she was sympathetic. What the hell is wrong with me? Must have been the concussion. At least, that’s what she blamed it on. That and years of training to be a leader. Out in the field she was her own boss, employee, and teammate; working with a group of people wasn’t easy. Of course, out in the field, there wasn’t room to care about others, only the job to be done. Sympathetic or not, Max knew that she’d never forgive herself if she caused any of these people’s deaths, even Seamus’. Not that she considered any a friend – Riley was the closest to being called an ally – but that she’d lost enough people to last her a lifetime. The thought forced her hand into her pocket, enclosing the photograph in a loose fist. Erik, you dumbass, she thought bitterly, with anger she knew she had no right to direct at him. You better not be here. Not in this hell. She crumpled the photo tightly, a drop of blood from her forehead falling to the map below. The drop spread through the paper like a dark, ominous stain. Before anyone could comment, Max spoke up quietly. “I may as well be honest here. You probably shouldn’t stick with me. I’m highly trained, don’t get me wrong, but when I crashed here, I hit my head pretty hard on the wheel. I probably have a concussion. I don’t know how bad. The last thing you guys need is another useless body dropping over in the blink of an eye to slow you down.” Before anyone could question, Max held up a hand and continued. “I’ve already passed out once. I’m no doctor; I can’t tell if I will or won’t again. I’ll take you to the police station, but you guys should just leave without me. I’ll have to find some way to call someone, or to get out on my own.” Even as the words came out of her mouth, something told her she wouldn’t make it out alive if she were alone, but she couldn’t endanger the others. “Unless I can get to a doctor, you guys will be on your own from there.”

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((ya girl d> That's funny. xD Adam can just call her Maxwell or Max, if he asks nicely. I'm sure Max wouldn't bite his head off that way. xP ))

xxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxseamus jacob erikson








Riley mentioned that the guns didn't seem to have done much to the thing now lying on the floor wheezing its last gas-laden breath. "Yeah, but it's the only thing we know that works, and I don't want to get any closer to another one unless I have to." Seamus mentioned as calmly as ever.

Jonathan interrupted his train of thought by walking in with an axe and bringing it down on the thing, cutting it clean in two. Somehow, Seamus expected the two halves to regrow, or slither back together, but after a moment there was nothing. It was something of a relief, thought not by much.

They all seemed to have conflicting personalities, as much was obvious from the argument that followed. Especially in the fact that no one made a move to split it up, or to try and stop it from escalating. Though it could've hardly been true, Seamus preferred to think that no one had intervened because it had happened, and ended, so quickly. The possibility of anything like this happening in the future was wiped out when Agent Maxwell Coralyn Sparks, as she had just introduced herself, walked out of the gas station with no obvious intentions of returning.

It obviously wasn't the best idea, after all, after what they'd seen here, the last thing that would've been favorable was leaving, especially alone. In a place as wide open as the street, anything could come from anywhere, and they wouldn't know until it was nearly on top of them. It wasn't a situation Seamus would've liked to be in, especially alone.

They stood awkwardly in silence, though what they were waiting for was impossible to say. They hadn't had to wait long before Maxwell returned with something in hand, paper. She avoided the gazes of the others and handed the paper to Riley, who immediately seemed to turn to ice, or stone. There was a look of something that Seamus had not yet seen cross her face, and she stared down at her hands momentarily before picking up the paper.

From where he stood, Seamus hadn't gotten a good look at it, but she tucked it out of sight in such a manner that it was obvious that she would want no questions regarding it. She mumbled some answer to Sparks, and asked if she intended to stay. It was a question with the potential to offend, and Seamus was almost ready to see another squabble break out, but instead she accepted a map from Riley, and it looked as if they were only that much closer to leaving.

Sparks asked something about the radio. Did it work? That was quite a question, wasn't it? Seamus withdrew it from his pocket. It was still on because he hadn't had the nerve to turn it off, because he hadn't the nerve to see it turn itself back on. "Define work." He responded before tossing it lightly in her direction. He seemed rather intent on not moving any closer to that bloodied thing than he had to.

They talked about weaponry, finding something with which to defend themselves. It seemed like a good idea. Until Sparks started talking about them leaving her. Jonathan was the first to speak up, and though he only said what was probably on all of their minds, he didn't exactly pick a subtle way to do so. Jonathan was certainly someone Seamus wouldn't have spent any of his own time with by free will, bu if it got the point across-- who was he to complain?

((Edited. Sorry about that.))