[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.]
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. ]
[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.]
[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.]
[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.
[ 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.
[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?"
[There's really off-the-rails cult shit happening in Silent Hill that James is unaware of because he's from the wrong entry in the franchise. But even what he found, though never pursued, still rubbed him the wrong way.
Partly.]
I can't blame you. I thought about maybe finding out if it was real, too... Just to have Mary back.
[ There's a little solace in that, knowing he's not the only one who would do insane things for the person he loves, but there's also something in the look he gives James that says it wouldn't be worth it. He's living proof of that. ]
To say the very least. So here I am, collecting the souls of the dead until my debt to the cosmic balance is paid.
[Something like that comes at a cost, he can see that very clearly in Ivan. Moreover, James has simply the accepted the reality of Mary being dead, and he won’t go back on that. He can’t.]
[ And that pretty much signals the end of that conversation. It wouldn't have gone on much longer anyway, as they both round a corner to find the street closed off by a thick wall of writhing, thorny vines. ]
[James is not entirely sure he'd understand the details, anyway. And maybe he doesn't want to. He can only imagine how egregious it was for Death to keep him in debt to this "job" for so, so long.
The vines drag his attention to a more present problem, anyway. James, being who he is, steps forward and... reaches out to pull at one of them, careful not to prick himself.]
Vines... That's odd. [He'll answer Ivan here in a second. Right now... tug, tug.]
…It’s worth a shot. If something doesn’t want us to go this way, then we’ll cut through a building or alleyway, instead. I had to get creative the last time I was here, so it’d be nothing new.
You think it's possible we're being herded somewhere?
[ "We" he says, as if this isn't meant to be Ivan's journey of self-discovery or whatever. James is more or less just along for the ride.
Still, Ivan summons his scythe back into his hand and takes a swing at a section of vines. He slices clean through, but they regrow in a matter of seconds — faster than either of them could hope to make it through the gap. ]
[“We”, huh. James could point that out, but he decides there’s no reason. For good or ill, it’s “we” now. Maybe things will turn out better than the last time he found fellow lost individuals in the belly of Silent Hill, as long as they work as a team.
He watches as the vines grow back, worrisomely quick.]
Around instead of through it is. There’s…
[He trails off, looking around. To the south, there’s another intersecting road.]
We’ll go down that way, take a turn for another block, then head back north and maybe we’ll find ourselves on the other side of those vines. Might have to pass through a bar or two, though.
[ It stands to reason, if James has been here before. Perhaps it will eventually become apparent that the place the town is leading them to is the place where James' journey originally began: back to the graveyard on the outskirts of town.
For now, though, the immediate way forward is blocked, so... ]
I'll follow your lead. Just stick close in case more of those things show up.
They decide to take a little detour, and James begins walking down the other street, to slip into the alleyway.]
And yeah, I don't think I can tell you how many times I had to backtrack in this place just to get where I wanted. I found a few maps of the town, too, and that helped.
[Which adds to the slight irony of James feeling... turned around once they pass through the alleyway and cut through an empty, dusty bar. Because, ironically, yes, this appears to lead in the opposite direction of where he intends to go — but how is that possible when the hotel could not be farther away from the graveyard?
Yet they approach a creaky gate, and there's no doubt about where they are. James approaches the entrance with confusion clear on his face.]
[ Ivan has no concept of the geography of this place, so he has no reason to feel disoriented when they end up somewhere they should not have been able to get to so fast. ]
[He sounds frustrated but also resigned in equal measure. This town will force them in any direction it chooses, no matter if it makes no directional sense. At least it isn't making them jump into bottomless holes—
He reaches out, giving the metal gate a push. It swings open easily, with only a gentle, squeaking protest. Beyond, it's much like James remembered it: a large graveyard thick with fog, with dreary headstones dotted about. A stone church looms in the distance, just a hazy shape from where they stand.
However, unlike before, vines wend around the ground, some even crawl up headstones. If they're not careful, they could trip over one or two, catching them on the toe of their shoes.]
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So why the change?
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[ 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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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?
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[ What does that even mean! Ivan isn't big on explanations, it seems. ]
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[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?
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[ 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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It's hard to look at.
He breaks his gaze away.]
You mean your wife. Was she sick, too?
["Too."]
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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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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?"
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Something like that, yeah.
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Partly.]
I can't blame you. I thought about maybe finding out if it was real, too... Just to have Mary back.
[He sighs.]
So Death didn't like what you did, though, huh?
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To say the very least. So here I am, collecting the souls of the dead until my debt to the cosmic balance is paid.
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And how much more debt is left?
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You don't want to know.
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It must have been a pretty nasty ritual. Or… whatever it is you did.
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[ And that pretty much signals the end of that conversation. It wouldn't have gone on much longer anyway, as they both round a corner to find the street closed off by a thick wall of writhing, thorny vines. ]
Ah. Is there a way around?
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The vines drag his attention to a more present problem, anyway. James, being who he is, steps forward and... reaches out to pull at one of them, careful not to prick himself.]
Vines... That's odd. [He'll answer Ivan here in a second. Right now... tug, tug.]
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[ So maybe that's the theme? ]
I can try to cut through. Unless you think there's some reason we can't go this way.
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[His thoughts run parallel with the metatext.]
…It’s worth a shot. If something doesn’t want us to go this way, then we’ll cut through a building or alleyway, instead. I had to get creative the last time I was here, so it’d be nothing new.
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[ "We" he says, as if this isn't meant to be Ivan's journey of self-discovery or whatever. James is more or less just along for the ride.
Still, Ivan summons his scythe back into his hand and takes a swing at a section of vines. He slices clean through, but they regrow in a matter of seconds — faster than either of them could hope to make it through the gap. ]
I guess that answers that.
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[“We”, huh. James could point that out, but he decides there’s no reason. For good or ill, it’s “we” now. Maybe things will turn out better than the last time he found fellow lost individuals in the belly of Silent Hill, as long as they work as a team.
He watches as the vines grow back, worrisomely quick.]
Around instead of through it is. There’s…
[He trails off, looking around. To the south, there’s another intersecting road.]
We’ll go down that way, take a turn for another block, then head back north and maybe we’ll find ourselves on the other side of those vines. Might have to pass through a bar or two, though.
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[ It stands to reason, if James has been here before. Perhaps it will eventually become apparent that the place the town is leading them to is the place where James' journey originally began: back to the graveyard on the outskirts of town.
For now, though, the immediate way forward is blocked, so... ]
I'll follow your lead. Just stick close in case more of those things show up.
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[At least, he doesn't really plan to.
They decide to take a little detour, and James begins walking down the other street, to slip into the alleyway.]
And yeah, I don't think I can tell you how many times I had to backtrack in this place just to get where I wanted. I found a few maps of the town, too, and that helped.
[Which adds to the slight irony of James feeling... turned around once they pass through the alleyway and cut through an empty, dusty bar. Because, ironically, yes, this appears to lead in the opposite direction of where he intends to go — but how is that possible when the hotel could not be farther away from the graveyard?
Yet they approach a creaky gate, and there's no doubt about where they are. James approaches the entrance with confusion clear on his face.]
What the hell?
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What?
[ Wait, is this the entrance to a... graveyard? ]
... Oh.
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[He sounds frustrated but also resigned in equal measure. This town will force them in any direction it chooses, no matter if it makes no directional sense. At least it isn't making them jump into bottomless holes—
He reaches out, giving the metal gate a push. It swings open easily, with only a gentle, squeaking protest. Beyond, it's much like James remembered it: a large graveyard thick with fog, with dreary headstones dotted about. A stone church looms in the distance, just a hazy shape from where they stand.
However, unlike before, vines wend around the ground, some even crawl up headstones. If they're not careful, they could trip over one or two, catching them on the toe of their shoes.]
We're at the outskirts of town, now.
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