[ 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. ]
[ 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... ]
[Ivanโs stuck with him for now. He feels bad about striking him, and alsoโฆ Itโs the right thing to do, staying with him. The last two people he left on their own in this townโ
[ 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 โ 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?
[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.
[Heโs a survival horror protagonist, heโs 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 justโฆ hits the window hard with his pipe, smashing the glass, casual as ever. He doesnโt look at Ivan as he answers, but he does gesture to the item inside.]
Sheโs notโฆ not really. Sheโs dead. Itโs more that I want to talk to the memory of her.
[For James, this is still a raw subject. Aโฆ thorny subject, especially when discussed with a stranger. He shouldnโt, but he still cleaves away some of the details in his mind in case the questions come. He should feel guilty for that, too โ he does, but heโll carry that on his shoulders for now.
Still, heโs 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. Iโmโฆ sorry, too, though.
[Itโs strange, to feel like someone can empathize; and that maybe the empathy is only unknowingly surface level without having the full story. Still, itโs not what he expected.]
Theโฆ the person youโre looking for, theyโre not somehow related to your wife, are they?
[Not necessarily blood related. But any kind of connection โ itโs what this town would play with.]
[ If he were to ask Ivan, he'd say that hurt never fully goes away. Ivan has been alive a long time โ longer than any person should โ and he still caries an ache in the depths of his heart.
Ivan gives a small nod of acknowledgement for the condolences, but he knows better than to prod. The moment of understanding passes, and Ivan steps out through the broken window back onto the street. ]
I highly doubt it.
[ He might have taken "related" a bit literally. Any family either of them had left were ferried to the other side a long, long time ago. ]
[James doesn't meet his gaze until he returns. He's technically moved past the horrors he saw in this town the last time he visited, but nonetheless, such things weigh heavy even with passing recollection.]
That was the reason I was brought here last time. I received a letter from Mary, which was impossible because she had already died.
[But it was the town's doing; his mind's doing? Both are true in Silent Hill.]
What I mean to say is that most people have personal reasons for finding themselves in this town.
[ Hm. He really needs to rethink his cover story a bit better.
Maybe this is a good time for something to jump out of the fog at them. Wouldn't that be nice? You wanna talk about trauma... this place is probably crawling with weird death imagery by now. ]
[YOUR AWKWARD COVER STORY WON'T BE SAVED BY MONSTERS JUST YET, BUDDY
But maybe soon. The fog is getting thick, and it's only because James has the layout of this town seared into his brain that he's fairly certain they're heading the right way. Are those... moths he sees, fluttering in his periphery?]
You're a... traveling mortician.
[Help??? On one hand: yeah he can see it. On the other: what.]
...Sounds to me like someone who deals in death would be drawn to this town on principle alone.
[Up ahead, there is the sound of wings fluttering. Very, very faint for now. He assumes it's just the moths. This would be weird if he'd not experienced it before, and he tenses, but not enough to be worrisome just yet.]
[ Of course he's not going to get off that easily, but a man can hope. It's not often he has to make small talk with some random person on the street on his way to a job who isn't also dying. He's forgotten how! ]
You think so?
[ Maybe that's why he's all turned around. ]
Sounds to me like they have a bad bug problem going on.
[James isn't exactly the master of small talk, either, so he's in good company. Or bad company. Awkward vibes might be off the charts sometimes, but he's doing okay right now.]
The moths. I think it's a sign of someone... [Dying.] Fading away.
[Whether that's because there's someone else here, or the town is picking apart notions from Ivan's mind... it's hard to say.]
[ Surely not dying, or he'd be able to sense it. One of the very cruel ironies of his station. He, a man who once feared death above all else, is now intrinsically tied to it. ]
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[ 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. ]
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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. Heโs chalking it up to another such instance.]
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If you insist. I'm Ivan. You are?
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[Ivanโs stuck with him for now. He feels bad about striking him, and alsoโฆ Itโs the right thing to do, staying with him. The last two people he left on their own in this townโ
Well. Heโd rather not think about it.]
Sorry about theโ pipe to the head, Ivan.
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I've had worse.
[ ???? ]
So, do you think there are other people here? Besides you and me.
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It's possible. Maybe one or two others... It's hard to tell unless we run into them while we're looking.
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[ 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.
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I was... going to visit whatever's left of an old hotel here. It's on the edge of the lake โ 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.
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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?
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[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.
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(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?
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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.
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A frown. ]
What is your wife doing here?
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In fact, there does happen to be a crowbar as they pass by what appears to be an auto parts shop, and James justโฆ hits the window hard with his pipe, smashing the glass, casual as ever. He doesnโt look at Ivan as he answers, but he does gesture to the item inside.]
Sheโs notโฆ not really. Sheโs dead. Itโs more that I want to talk to the memory of her.
I know it sounds overly sentimental.
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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.
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Still, heโs 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. Iโmโฆ sorry, too, though.
[Itโs strange, to feel like someone can empathize; and that maybe the empathy is only unknowingly surface level without having the full story. Still, itโs not what he expected.]
Theโฆ the person youโre looking for, theyโre not somehow related to your wife, are they?
[Not necessarily blood related. But any kind of connection โ itโs what this town would play with.]
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Ivan gives a small nod of acknowledgement for the condolences, but he knows better than to prod. The moment of understanding passes, and Ivan steps out through the broken window back onto the street. ]
I highly doubt it.
[ He might have taken "related" a bit literally. Any family either of them had left were ferried to the other side a long, long time ago. ]
Why do you ask?
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That was the reason I was brought here last time. I received a letter from Mary, which was impossible because she had already died.
[But it was the town's doing; his mind's doing? Both are true in Silent Hill.]
What I mean to say is that most people have personal reasons for finding themselves in this town.
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[ SIR??
And that is true, though whether or not the town will mess with them in the meantime remains to be seen. ]
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[If he sounds dubious, it's because he is. Not that he doubts the veracity of that claim, but the town doesn't just go foggy for no real reason!!
...But he continues walking.]
What kind of work?
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[ BOY DOESN'T HE LOOK IT. ]
A... traveling mortician.
[ Hm. He really needs to rethink his cover story a bit better.
Maybe this is a good time for something to jump out of the fog at them. Wouldn't that be nice? You wanna talk about trauma... this place is probably crawling with weird death imagery by now. ]
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But maybe soon. The fog is getting thick, and it's only because James has the layout of this town seared into his brain that he's fairly certain they're heading the right way. Are those... moths he sees, fluttering in his periphery?]
You're a... traveling mortician.
[Help??? On one hand: yeah he can see it. On the other: what.]
...Sounds to me like someone who deals in death would be drawn to this town on principle alone.
[Up ahead, there is the sound of wings fluttering. Very, very faint for now. He assumes it's just the moths. This would be weird if he'd not experienced it before, and he tenses, but not enough to be worrisome just yet.]
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You think so?
[ Maybe that's why he's all turned around. ]
Sounds to me like they have a bad bug problem going on.
[ All the moths, he means. ]
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The moths. I think it's a sign of someone... [Dying.] Fading away.
[Whether that's because there's someone else here, or the town is picking apart notions from Ivan's mind... it's hard to say.]
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[ Surely not dying, or he'd be able to sense it. One of the very cruel ironies of his station. He, a man who once feared death above all else, is now intrinsically tied to it. ]
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