finalflight | OPEN POST; [ JAMES SUNDERLAND / SILENT HILL 2 ]

[It takes but a half-second for his brain to catch up to him, and James' eyes go wide when he realizes he's hit an actual person.]

Shit!

[Another CLANG as the pipe clatters to the ground instead, dropping it for the sake of bending down and checking on the guy he just clocked in the temple.]

Hey! Are you all right?

[sorry but he does nOT need the guilt of killing some guy by accident right now]

Fine. I'm fine.

[ There's a lilt to the words, some vague suggestion of an accent mostly worn away by time. Russian? Eastern European? Hard to tell.

A hand comes up to wave off any concerns, and Ivan manages to settle his weight back onto his legs. There's a dark swath running down the side of his face, but he seems quite unconcerned with it, lifting an arm to scrub it away with the back of his sleeve. ]

I have a hard head.

[ Indeed, apart from the bleeding, he seems fine? ]

[Sure, but that ribboning blood still should be a matter of concern. Not to mention that James is fairly sure he hit this man… pretty hard.]

Uh, yeah… Apparently.

[It’s a distracted utterance as he fishes into a pocket to pull out a handkerchief, then practically foists it onto the other.]

Not hard enough. You’re bleeding. Are you sure you’re okay? How many fingers am I holding up? [...Holds up three fingers.]

[ Again, he waves a hand, dismissive. Though he does take that handkerchief if only because the other man seems insistent. He wipes the side of his face clean and simply pockets the cloth for later. Whether the wound is still a problem or not is difficult to tell with all that dark hair in the way. ]

Three.

[ Bland. ]

I promise you, I'm fine, though not for lack of trying. You have quite the swing.

[ Offers James his pipe back. This is a fine way to meet people! ]

[He takes it automatically with one hand, fingers curling around the metal.]

I thought you might've been...

[A monster. He swallows thickly.

Then stands and offers the man a hand up, still concerned and still wary if he should be walking around after a hit like that.]

It's dangerous in this town. When it's like this. The fog... You see it, too?

[ He is.

He takes that hand, getting to his feet with ease. However shaken he should be after a blow like that, he simply isn't. Boy, his head sure is hard just like he said! ]

Mm. I do. What is this place?

[ He's supposed to be here for work ("work") but there's so much weird bullshit happening, his reaper senses got all confused, and now here he is. ]

Apart from some sort of nightmare.

[This man is either very tough or very lucky. But given that James has no reason to really question it, he just assumes maybe both applies. He'll keep an eye on him for a bit, just to be sure.]

Silent Hill. [Did he get lost on the way here, then?] It's a nice, quiet town. Beautiful on some days.

...But the last time I was here, it was a nightmare. Fog all around. Monsters lurking in the shadows. Buildings warping into twisted versions. There's something wrong with this place; it shows you... things you don't always want to see.

[...]

Were you looking for something? Someone?

Silent Hill. How appropriately spooky.

[ Spooky.

Ivan gives another glance around, shoving his hands into his pockets. Now that he's upright, it's easy to see that he's well, if plainly, dressed in a simple black suit and tie. ]

I'm looking for someone, but don't know who. I'll know when I see them.

It's more than just spooky.

[It was a Really Bad Time, okay.

James feels a twist of anxiety in his chest. He isn't sure what to do in this situation — experience tells him that the town beginning to change means danger, but he hasn't technically run into anything just yet. And moreover, why? Why is he seeing all this again?]

You... don't know who you're looking for?

[Sir?]

No.

[ His gaze cuts back to the other man. Oftentimes Ivan explains away the sort of weirdness that's permeated his being by not explaining it at all. Let people think he's a big ol' weirdo. They wouldn't be wrong. ]

Maybe you knocked it out of me.

[ It's so hard to tell if that's a joke or not. ]

[And James scoffs anyway, even if the humor is wry and a little surly.]

Uh-huh. Maybe I did. All the more reason for me to accompany you, then.

[Sure, this guy is weird. But. So is everything about this town and what James went through. He’s chalking it up to another such instance.]

[ He's not so sure he wants a tag-along on this job, but the man does seem to be familiar with the place, and maybe Ivan feels a bit bad for giving him a fright so... ]

If you insist. I'm Ivan. You are?

James.

[Ivan’s stuck with him for now. He feels bad about striking him, and also… It’s the right thing to do, staying with him. The last two people he left on their own in this town—

Well. He’d rather not think about it.]

Sorry about the— pipe to the head, Ivan.

[ Another dismissive wave. ]

I've had worse.

[ ???? ]

So, do you think there are other people here? Besides you and me.

[Concern??? But okay,]

It's possible. Maybe one or two others... It's hard to tell unless we run into them while we're looking.

Then where do you suggest we start looking?

[ Usually he's way better at this. It's a little embarrassing, actually. He was joking before, but maybe James did knock something loose when he whacked him with that pipe. ]

You seem to know this place. I'll follow your lead.

[He pauses, looking briefly uncertain, but then nods.]

I was... going to visit whatever's left of an old hotel here. It's on the edge of the lake — Toluca Lake.

[Looks out into the fog, frowning.]

I don't know if whoever you're looking for would be there, but maybe we'd find them on the way. [A beat.] We should find you a weapon first, though. Just in case.

[ Ah. A weapon. He doesn't really need one, and in a place such as this he's not sure he can keep his nature a secret for long, but he's sure Death will scold him if he doesn't at least make a token effort. ]

I can hold my own, usually, but if you insist.

[ A shrug. It doesn't have to be a good token effort. ]

Are pipes what usually pass for weapons around here?

I don't think you understand the kind of things this place can throw at you.

[What's Ivan going to do, fisticuff his way past any given monster, he wonders?]

If you're lucky, you find a gun and some ammo lying around. If you're not... then whatever you can pick up and swing really hard.

[ Probably not, but like. He doesn't really care at the end of the day. What's it going to do, kill him?

(He of all people should know there are worse things than death.) ]

So you've demonstrated.

[ Well, he'll wander after James once he starts moving. ]

If this place is so bad, what are you doing here?

[The monsters can definitely maim and kill... But in many ways, the mental toll they take really feels worse. But maybe that's just James.

He does begin moving, through the fog as they trail down the sidewalk. There are several shops with large, glass window storefronts. Maybe Ivan can find a nice melee weapon if he keeps a keen eye out.]

I didn't think it would be like this again.

[He doesn't quite expound upon why.]

So I came back. To... [Pause.] Give my wife an update on how I'm doing, I guess.

[ He'll look around, mostly out of curiosity. The idea of finding a weapon is already slid right out of his head, so James will have to do any looking for him. Maybe a nice crowbar is this guy's speed.

A frown. ]

What is your wife doing here?

[He’s a survival horror protagonist, he’s always looking for useful items laying around.

In fact, there does happen to be a crowbar as they pass by what appears to be an auto parts shop, and James just… hits the window hard with his pipe, smashing the glass, casual as ever. He doesn’t look at Ivan as he answers, but he does gesture to the item inside.]

She’s not… not really. She’s dead. It’s more that I want to talk to the memory of her.

I know it sounds overly sentimental.

[ Bruh what are you breaking a window for- oh, right. Weapon.

Ivan takes a long-legged step through the broken window to retrieve the crowbar, even if it's just for show. ]

Oh.

[ He goes a bit quiet... quietern rather, expression softening with the sort of melancholy that comes from understanding. ]

My condolences. I don't think it's overly sentimental... I lost my wife some time ago. I understand.

[For James, this is still a raw subject. A… thorny subject, especially when discussed with a stranger. He shouldn’t, but he still cleaves away some of the details in his mind in case the questions come. He should feel guilty for that, too — he does, but he’ll carry that on his shoulders for now.

Still, he’s met with condolences instead. James watches silently as Ivan picks up the crowbar.]

Not really something you ever want to share in common with anyone else. I’m… sorry, too, though.

[It’s strange, to feel like someone can empathize; and that maybe the empathy is only unknowingly surface level without having the full story. Still, it’s not what he expected.]

The… the person you’re looking for, they’re not somehow related to your wife, are they?

[Not necessarily blood related. But any kind of connection — it’s what this town would play with.]

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