[ORP - Silent Hill] This town...

[Baneful]

OOC

FICTIONAL PIECE OF WORK THIS RP IS BASED OFF: Silent Hill

TITLE OF FICTIONS: This town, there's something wrong with it - ORP
CURRENT PRP SETTING: A small town which on the surface appears much like any other in its part of America. Some people live their whole lives there and experience nothing more than conventional small town life. Other people find themselves in a different world entirely where the darkness of the town turns their sins and psyche against them

You are in Silent Hill. It is night time or early evening. Things have gone completely wrong. Monsters move in the darkness around you. What do they look like? How does the town look to you? How did you get here?

And will you ever make it through the night?

Note - It is possible for two individuals to find themselves with their versions of the town bleeding into one another, feel free to rp this. Normal battle mechanics apply, convert artifacts etc into something appropriate for the setting

First tier monster - 30HP - 4 autodmg
Second tier monster - 40HP - 6 autodamage
Third tier (multiple people) - 90HP - 8 autodamage even to defenders  

[Baneful]

It had begun with a note, much like many things in the strange town did. Lawrence had been in a routine, a mechanical repetition of the same daily steps, each day feeling as though more of the world washed out, the colours becoming fainter and the experiences less vivid than they were before. He was thinking about moving, something he periodically did when faces became too familiar and his surroundings too trite and domestic, he was working as a psychic at the time, telling people what they wanted to hear about the afterlife and their mundane existences. The note said simply that if he wanted to find a way to live forever he should come to a town called Silent Hill, it provided an address but little else besides.

Anyone else might have disregarded it as complete nonsense but the fact that it addressed him as his true name – when he’d been using an alias for over a decade – piqued his interest enough that he paid attention to it. He needed to go somewhere else and given a lack of other interesting options, Silent Hill would be as good a choice as any. There was no lack of money at his disposal, especially once his lavish house was sold and before long he was ready to go. The real estate agency was difficult to contact but he found himself a comfortable house on the outskirts of the town that had recently become vacant. Everything about the town looked quaint and comfortable, with a large lake and a cool and misty forest, it would be a pleasant change from the oppressive humidity of Florida and he could easily run his business from there and potentially expand his client base.

He’d moved in without incident on a sunny afternoon and had been looking forward to a pleasant time for things, his house was set up and the utilities were all functional barring only the internet which he was told might take a few weeks, after all it was a very old fashioned sort of town. This didn’t bother him too much, it would give him some time to bask in the tranquility of the place and catch up on his reading rather than lose himself reading supernatural forums and replying to client emails about their fortune and the words of his spirit guides. He’d brought a book on the town to read, enjoying the extensive myths and legends it was steeped in, along with the strange historical religious cults which were perhaps less typical for the general area. It was a fantastic place to work as a psychic, lending a further air of mystique to his work. It was also peaceful, somewhere for him to keep the company of his cats.

For the first week things were normal, he got settled in, slept well at night and generally enjoyed his new surroundings.

And then things changed.  

[Baneful]

The strangeness started with a dog, which was a bizarre way for it to begin.

You see, Silent Hill was foggy, the fog rolled in off the forests like clouds, often covering the whole town in a strange ethereal whiteness, diffusing away shadows and washing out the already faded colours of old gnarled wood. It crept into Lawrence’s garden where he was sitting on the porch reading a book and made it feel like he was in his own strange bubble, separated from the rest of the world. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

He was just getting absorbed into the reading when movement at the corner of his vision pulled his attention away from the book.

Something was standing there at the end of his garden which hadn’t been there before and he looked up with a start. It was a dog, a huge bull terrier just standing stock-still and staring at him. It had a large dark spot over one eye and he could see its pig-like eye from where he was sitting. There was something unnatural about the animal, too sentient looking and strange to be a normal dog. Time seemed to stretch out too long as he sat there, scared to move lest he provoked an attack.

The strange dog moved first, taking a few steps forward towards him, its head staying uncannily level as it did, closer and closer, not running, unhurried and fixed. The world seemed to fall silent as it did so, the quiet seeming more than just a lack of noise, veering into an oppressive quiet that dampened even the sounds that there were. As it got closer and closer he could see its eyes and realized that both were wildly dilated. He started to back away, or tried to, almost tripping over his own chair as he stood, heart hammering in his chest.

Still the dog walker forward, closer and closer until he could practically smell its warm rank breath. It stepped onto the porch, he tensed to run.

And then it vanished and sound flooded back into the world.

It wasn’t up for question that it could have run away, there were no obstacles and he hadn’t seen it move, simply one moment it had been there, a nightmare outlined against the fog-skirted trees, and then it was gone, leaving him feeling sick with fear. It felt like he was going crazy, so certain that what he’d just seen was real. There were no rational explanations he could even use to handwave away the encounter, he hadn’t been sleepy, he wasn’t tired now.

He’d seen plenty of dogs in his career, being a vet you saw animals of all shapes and sizes, but that one in particular seemed familiar in a way he couldn’t begin to place.

He put his book away, feeling distinctly that he’d had enough reading for that day and went back indoors, suddenly feeling like he needed to talk to someone, anyone human and ground himself back in the world.  

[Baneful]

After the incident in the garden things for the most part went back to normal and it was easier and easier to pretend that it had never happened and that perhaps it had simply been some manner of auditory and visual hallucination. It wouldn’t be the first time in his life that he’d experienced those things either, but it would make it the first time since coming off of the medications he’d been put on as a child to control whatever it was they’d decided was wrong with him at any given time. It didn’t bode very well, but the continued lack of recurrence lulled him into a sense of security.

It didn’t last all that long.

The next strange thing that happened occurred when he went into town, he’d made plenty of trips there since moving in and had grown accustomed to the small town charm of the place, the people who lived and worked there were good natured and open with him, speaking of the things the town had going for it, the great views of Toluca Lake and the park, he’d even declined discount tickets to the local theme park, not really inclined towards theme parks in general. When he’d mentioned that he played the piano he’d been roundly invited to the town’s church to attend and this, of all the offers had been most tempting. There was something very attractive to him about churches, as a lifelong con man it was always ideal to get yourself a good social standing as soon as was humanly possible. He was emphatic and eager and one of the older ladies invited him over to show him the way to the building and to introduce him to the pastor.

The church itself was strange, with an air of an unorthodox sect where he’d expected something a little more conventional and conservative. It grabbed his interest immediately. Inside the unassuming little building with its white wood paneling and dilapidated sign out by the street (THE SHEEP RETURN TO THE SHEPHERD, it read) there were the expected rows of pews leading up to an elaborate altar, but it was the paintings around the room which normally would have shown the stations of the cross which had caught his eye as different, they showed strange and contorted figures in twisted and painful looking poses. with a strong use of colour to denote the respective figures, yellow, red and an overarching depiction of god as a woman. The plates beneath the paintings spoke of a creation story different from anything he’d heard in mainstream Christianity and yet somehow oddly similar. It seemed the red figure depicted was an archangel or prophet type figure set against the backdrop of the god image in potentially a holy trinity arrangement. None of it bothered him and he responded with enthusiasm, after all he didn’t really believe in anything at all so it was very easy for him to pretend to be inspired by or believe in other people’s strange religions. The pastor seemed encouraged by this and told him that most visitors were taken aback by the building’s unusual décor, he played up that he found it fascinating and was looking forward to attending if they were accepting new members which she very delightedly told them they were and that they welcomed all denominations regardless.

All in all, it went well but it was when he was back on the road driving home that things got disturbing for him, he kept thinking about the paintings, over and over and over in a cyclical loop, making it difficult to even focus on where he was going let alone the radio. This lack of focus became dangerous as he found himself veering on the road, in the end he had to stop, feeling dizzy and disorientated his heart hammering. Somewhere along the way the fog had rolled in around him and his car felt like a closed off prison. He was in the middle of nowhere, near what looked like a hotel or apartment building. It was hard to tell which. The looming buildings in the half-light set him on edge.

He resolved to find a vending machine and leave, locking the car and stowing his keys as he pulled on his coat against the cold. He had never been one to be genuinely afraid and even in a strange place at night he didn't truly feel in danger. After all, he wasn't exactly unarmed, he was never unarmed, even these days. He'd made far too many enemies in too many places for that.

Making his way into the parking lot, he could see that it was indeed a hotel, the sign proclaiming that they had vacancies, and looking at the empty parking spots he assumed that was certainly the case. It looked a little bit run down here. Assuming that since it wasn't a motel it wouldn't have vending machines, he made his way to the reception, hoping at the very least there'd be a bar.

He stopped half way there, a strange snarling sound coming from back at his car, suddenly alert and on edge. He didn't spook easily but nor did he want to run afoul of a bear out here so close to the woods.

It wasn't a bear, instead from behind his car the slow and patient shape of /something/ dragged itself into view, glistening like raw flesh in the light. It was as if someone had melted a flayed dog and a man together and it dragged itself with claw tipped hands in his direction.

And stared at him with strange white-less eyes.

He didn't hesistate, instead he ran like hell into the hotel and slammed the front doors behind him, panting heavily as he shoved a heavy old chair up against them, chest rising and falling in sheer fight or flight adrenaline.

He wasn't afraid but he wasn't stupid.  

[Toshihiko Two]

Silent Hill was a quiet, lakeside resort town, and although it wasn't Fort Lauderdale, Rodney Michaels wasn't looking for that kind of getaway.

He did want to get away.

And something about this town...

He checked into his hotel room fine, and the first day (and night) were exactly what he needed. Sun glittered off the lake, and the only sound was the occasional bird. It gave him time to read, and sketch, outlining drawings of angels in soft pencil.

When he woke, however, something had changed. A thick fog had rolled in, obscuring the lake and everything outside, and when he tried to leave his room....

The strange figures moving in the hallways weren't people.  

[Toshihiko Two]

Outside it was nothing but grey on grey on grey. He couldn't even see the street. He tried calling out, once, but the things shifted their heavy, shaking heads towards him and he shut the door.

Where were the people?

Where had everyone gone?

Was he alone?

He had to get out. To find help. But so far all he'd done was sit down and sob softly against the door.  

[Baneful]

The hotel was empty Lawrence quickly found, not just quiet as he'd thought. The reception lay unmanned and abandoned with the bar even void of a bartender. It wasn't just that no one was there, he could practically feel the hollow silence of the building in a way that was hard to define.

He fished out his gun and set his hand on the hilt in his pocket, just in case.

Maybe there was a phone somewhere in the building that he could use to call out for help, get an exterminator in or something, even an ambulance if he was losing his mind, having a stroke or something.

In the first corridor he came to he could hear crying, faint and muffled and rather than finding this disturbing as he might well have in literally any other scenario he moved towards it with a desperation and urgency, knocking the door, all while looking up and down the corridor in paranoia. Someone was alive in there and right now humanity was what he needed to remind himself he was even in the right world any longer.

"Is someone in there?" he said. "Please open the door. I don't know where anyone is and I..can't go back to my car."  

[Toshihiko Two]

There was a soft, "Oh, oh, God," and a shuffling, and behind the door was a very grey man who looked otherwise none too worse for the wear. His clothes were clean and neatly pressed, if old, and the room behind him had only a little light filtering in from the window. The dense fog, however, made it impossible to see any structures, except the occasional ominous stirring and flap of too-big wings.

"Inside, quickly, they'll hear," Rodney said, taking Lawrence's free hand, and the grip was light.

"Have you seen anything else? Th-there's something...something wrong..."  

[Baneful]

Lawrence moved into the room with no small degree of relief, glad to put another door between himself and the thing he’d witnessed outside the hotel. He didn’t look as ruffled as he felt, but he almost never did, keeping his limited emotions for the most part detached from the controlled surface he presented to the world. The other man didn’t look like he’d be much help in a fight but any living breathing human being was an enormous reassurance, he didn’t even mind his hand being taken, a violation of his no-contact rules he’d normally have strenuously objected to. “You see it too?” he asked, moving from concerned about his own sanity to concerned about his physical wellbeing instead.

“There was a …thing. Stopping me from getting to my car. A dog, but not a normal one.” And he looked dubious even as he said it. “It has been following me I think.”  

[Toshihiko Two]

"I've been afraid to leave," Rodney said. "I've been afraid that I was...drugged," he said, because it was the more plausible explanation, but the other man didn't seem to be melting. His head didn't feel like it was spinning. Everything felt crushingly present.

He let go of the hand once he was inside, giving the door an uneasy look before sitting heavily on the bed.

"Or," he whispered, "that I'd been...s-sent to...hell."  

[Baneful]

Lawrence gave Rodney a sad sort of smile. "Well, if you were drugged, I was drugged too, and people tend to experience things drastically differently. No other side effects or symptoms either, no racing or lagging heartbeats, no temperature fluctuations." Apart from the strange things and the oppressive fog, it seemed like a mostly normal day.

The mention of hell made him arch a brow slightly. A religious man? Strange times brought out strange things in people. "I don't think I'd go to hell." he said with a smile. "Been a good man all my life." Because it was easy to lie when he always had. "I don't know what it is but I doubt it's that. Maybe some sort of government experiment, lab animals or something, can't be sure."

 

[Toshihiko Two]

"Have you?" Rodney asked in a strained and worried voice. "B-because, I...don't think I have."

He clasped his hands together.

"I haven't had anything to eat. But I haven't been hungry. And there's...something wrong with the television. H-how far does it go? The fog?"  

[Baneful]

Lawrence nodded sagely. He knew he hadn't been a good person at all, in fact he'd taken anyone and everyone he'd ever crossed for a complete ride and would likely do the same to the fearful man in front of him, but he didn't need to know that. "Well, yes." he said. "I've always been godfearing and don't think I've ever broken a single law as long as I've been alive."

The mention of not being hungry made him hesitate again, just for a split second, as if checking for something important that he was sure he'd have noticed if it was absent. But no, he was hungry, he felt the deep aching gnaw of it in his gut, nestled like a living thing. It pulled him onwards, kept him going, a constant reminder of the control he had over himself.

"I'm hungry." he said, as if this dispelled the other man's worries.

"As far as the fog, I don't know how far it goes, when it rolls in it seems to cover the whole place until just as unexpectedly you have the sun shining in your face."

He looked out the window and found himself wistfully thinking that it would be nice if that would happen right now and that if it did it would dispell whatever the strange contorted dog thing was that kept relentlessly following him.

 

[Toshihiko Two]

"If we could get past them..." Rodney looked out the window too, "maybe we could...get out of the fog. Are you....here with anyone?"