OPEN POST; [ JAMES SUNDERLAND / SILENT HILL 2 ]

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(( out of her head, she sang ))

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[redsquares]

[He watches with the same frown and now a grimace as those vines tug free. The blood and violence doesn’t really faze him as much as this information does — something so succinctly spoken but also somehow tells him not much at all.]

Of Death?

[What. The actual fuck.]

You’re going to have to explain more than that, Ivan.

[reapoman]

[ Oh, come on. He sounded so cool and everything.

Ivan sucks in a breath, pressing his bloodied hand to the gaping hole in his shoulder as it knits itself closed in a matter of short moments. ]

I'm a grim reaper, James.

[ As if to punctuate his point, the scythe still in his other hand dissipates into a whisp of shadow. ]

I collect the souls of the dead and ferry them to the other side.

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[He's seen a lot of unexplainable things in this town, and probably to the same degree as what he's being told now. However, this is a different kind of unexplainable, and James can't help but feel wary. Wondering if it's the full story. The way Ivan's wounds simply stitch themselves together add an eerieness to the whole ordeal, and maybe once this all sinks in, James will understand why a pipe to the head was so ineffective against him.

But right now, it's hard to... entirely trust anyone that looks human but clearly isn't. Like, bro, are you just in his head or something—]

Then, wh-what? All that about your dead wife was just a cover?

[reapoman]

No.

[ Ivan tugs James' handkerchief back out of his pocket to wipe the bloody mess from his palm. There's not much that can be done about his suit. ]

That was true. The mortician thing was the cover.

[ The really, really bad cover. ]

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[A fucking terrible cover. At least his instincts regarding that weren't wrong, he just didn't know how right he was.

James isn't sure how much the rest helps, though. If it eases him, or makes it all the more hard to understand how to feel about this. This is an agent of Death itself, apparently, standing so close to him—

It makes him feel weirdly vulnerable, slightly hollowing, and definitely a bit defensive to start.]

I still don't understand. Is what's happening with the town this time because of you?

[reapoman]

Mm. Could be.

[ Like the idea only just occurred to him. That thing he just fought reeked of death in a way that was almost targeted.

Still, that doesn't explain what's really going on. He's not used to having much influence in the living world, so either his boss is being funny again or there's something here that can touch even an agent of Death.

Regardless, he's definitely picking up on James' vibes. ]

I know I'm not the most desirable of company, but you'll likely be safest with me.

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I don't care about being safe.

[It's out of his mouth before he realizes, and he regrets it a moment later. He doesn't mean it — wholly, not anymore. But James closes his eyes, shaking his head slightly, looking So Tired.

He brings a heel of a palm to rub at his eye. He mutters, sounding absolutely miserable:]

I just wanted to head back to the hotel. I wanted to update my wife on how I'm doing...

[Not get dragged into this all over again. With someone claiming to be a reaper, at that, skulking about to do his "job." What, then? He's supposed to stick with him as he goes to claim the soul of a dying person? Wouldn't that be just dandy.]

[reapoman]

[ They can both look tired, though that seems to be Ivan's default more than anything. He arches a dark brow. ]

Then we head for the hotel. If we find it relatively safe, you can hunker down there, and I'll finish my business and leave.

If I'm at fault for the town being the way it is, then my leaving should fix it, right?

[ This is a very easy solution that will absolutely and totally work! ]

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[James drops his hand and looks at him, scoffing. He steps closer.]

No. That's not how it works.

[And steps closer again, pointing his pipe at the dead monster on the pavement. Whatever shock he first experienced upon seeing its wretched form, it's gone now.]

This came from you. [It's definitely not James'!] This town brought you here for a reason, and that's not just for your work. Whether it's something holding you back, or something you're denying yourself, or a past anger, or hurt—

[With a man who works for Death? It could be anything, he thinks.]

But it's your job to figure it out. You can't leave until you do.

[reapoman]

[ Ivan can't help but look a little taken aback at the... not quite an outburst, but certainly close enough coming from a man as quiet as James has been. ]

I've been alive for a long, long time. I'm out of lessons to learn and things to process.

[ Lie. He's simply stopped acknowledging those things and called it good enough. ]

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[James is often quiet, but rarely is he passive. For what it's worth, what fire he had seems to drain from him just as quickly, and his arm goes limp by his side again.]

You actually believe that?

[reapoman]

[ James gets a long look in response, which is just as telling as any answer Ivan could ever give. Beyond that, he doesn't deign to reply.

He's going to get out of this hell town one way or another, with or without any meaningful confrontations with his trauma. ]

We should keep moving.

[redsquares]

[A flat look in return. Oh, buddy.




We're going to be here for a long time.]

...Fine. For now, we'll keep heading towards the hotel like you said.

You shoulder, is it already healed up?

[reapoman]

Yeah, I'm fine.

[ His suit is all bloodstained and torn, but rather than waste the energy to fix that, he figures he's in for a lot more hurt before this tour of Silent Hill is over. Might as well leave it be. ]

I'm sure you figured this out already. I can't exactly be killed.

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[Healing up quickly was immediately obvious; not being able to die at all makes logical sense if someone's already working for Death, but James just frowns. Then he turns to keep walking, expecting Ivan to follow, ignoring the niggling feeling of unease at having him at his back.]

...Terrible for you.

[It's wry, but it's not necessarily a joke. Especially if this man's lost his wife. Especially if he has to "reap" souls for all eternity.]

You've always been that way?

[Unable to die. A reaper. The way he is in general. Take your pick.]

[reapoman]

[ Ivan's used to making people uneasy, even those that don't know what he is. When you spend so long steeped in Death, you just start to give off certain Vibes. So, he just follows along, hands in his pockets, knowing there's nothing he can do about the way James feels.

He doesn't give the remark much thought. It is terrible for him, thank you. He thinks James gets that, and that's why it's not as biting as it could be, so he lets it slide. ]

No. I was human once. Lifetimes ago.

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[The street beyond is wide, grey, foggy, and entirely empty. There's no sound of fluttering moth wings or something large stomping about at a distance. But sometimes it's the quiet that's the most unsettling, and even while James has this strange conversation with Ivan, he's trying to keep aware of their surroundings.]

So why the change?

[reapoman]

It wasn't a choice, if that's what you're asking. It's a punishment.

[ At least one of them is keeping a weather eye. Ivan is very bad about looking for danger, though perhaps that's a given considering how little danger anything actually poses him. ]

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[Someone has to keep this reaper guy safe even if he might not actually need it.

He isn't sure if this counts as needling or not, but on the off-chance it isn't, he asks. In fact, James simply asks because he's curious, too, in a morbid way.]

For?

[reapoman]

For disrespecting the cycle of life and death.

[ What does that even mean! Ivan isn't big on explanations, it seems. ]

[redsquares]

Disrespecting the cycle?

[He glances over him briefly from over his shoulder, a pinch to his brow. That's not much of an explanation, though, but James is clever enough to intuit a thing or two.]

Is that something anyone can even affect?

[reapoman]

If you try hard enough, believe me, Death notices.

[ He's proof of that. Ivan's gaze flicks up to meet James' for that brief moment, and something indescribably sad crosses his features. ]

I wanted to save her. No matter the cost.

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[Oh. What a look that is. James has worn it before, too, and still feels it on nights that drag on for so, so long. So empty. It's a special kind of misery, being the only one left, and the guilt that comes with surviving when you don't really deserve it.

It's hard to look at.

He breaks his gaze away.]

You mean your wife. Was she sick, too?

["Too."]

[reapoman]

[ That "too" carries a world's worth of weight, and Ivan can't help but wonder if whatever drew him here drew James to him, too. Two men with that sort of horrible tragedy in common... just trying to get by. ]

She was. In an era long before the modern medicine that might have saved her.

So I turned to darker means, instead.

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[Maybe it was some kind of bizarre fate that brought him back to Silent Hill just to meet this man. Someone who's felt similar loss, and who reacted to it in ways that were... worthy of "punishment", it would seem.

James swallows thickly. He's not sure how to feel about that, either.]

...Last time I was here, I discovered some old history about this town; about a cult, and some of the strange things they did. And I found a book that detailed a ritual that could apparently bring the dead back to life.

[Weird cult shit.]

Bullshit, I thought. But then, as crazy things kept happening, I began to think maybe it was possible. Sometimes I still wonder about it, and about whatever power Silent Hill really has.

Doing something similar... Is that what you mean by "darker means?"