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

[ James' instincts serve him well, at least. There's a bit of paper or something wedged between the praying hands of an angel statuette nestled on the stone casket in this little alcove.

Pulling it free reveals a tarot card — or something remarkably close to one — depicting a man with his arms outstretched to the sun. Weird! ]

Huh. Before you ask, I have no idea what that means. I guess we might as well keep looking.

[SOLAIRE???

Huh. James turns it around between two fingers, examining it closely.]

Looks like a tarot card.

[Thanks Captain Obvious.]

Maybe there’s one or two more scattered around out there.

[ PRAISE THE SU- wait. ]

That's all well and good, but what do you suppose we need to do with them?

[ This, as he pokes his head out to look for whatever's lurking in the dark. It seems to be keeping its distance for now, so he moves to the next alcove. ]

[Into the next alcove they go. He’s wary of the thing skulking around nearby, but that’s never stopped James from nosing around quick-like.

Is there another statue in here? Regardless, he says blandly-]

Do you like solving puzzles?

[ It appears to be broken, so no card here. They'll have to move on. ]

I'm assuming you don't mean the daily crossword.

[Well, over to the next alcove, then, if they can.]

I wish. Usually they’re not that straightforward. But often I had to collect something and figure it where it belonged before I could move forward.

Fun.

[ He's so done with this already, but he still dutifully moves to the next alcove. There, a statue of a gaping skull has another card in its teeth, depicting some poor soul trapped in a torrential downpour. ]

Did you find anything especially strange? Just for reference.

[Trapped in a downpour… When he plucks the card free from the somewhat worrisome statue, there’s something about the imagery on it that makes him frown a little deeper. Bothers him.]

I, uh—

[He takes out the other card again, examining them side by side.]

It ran the gamut. Sometimes I had to stick my hand in… things.

[Does that. Count.]

Things?

[ BRO WHAT KIND OF THINGS? ]

[,

Wait, should he be admitting to this…]

Usually really… squishy holes in the walls. [There’s just no way to make this sound normal.] One time it was a toilet.

[ Sir........ ]

You're lucky you didn't lose your hand or catch the plague. Or both.

Probably.

[Welp. Into a pocket these cards go!]

I guess I just didn’t care too much at the time about the risks.

I guess that's fair.

[ Certain things only matter so much when you're steeped in literal hell, after all.

Ivan pokes his head out of the alcove to catch another whisper of movement. He's not sure if they're being stalked or led at this point. Into the next alcove they go, to find a pair of cherubs clasping a card with a cloud gusting wind on it — cartoon face and all. He offers it over to James, Keeper of the Puzzle Pieces. ]

Sorry for dragging you back into a whole new mess.

[He takes the card, looking it over once more before he tucks it away. Is this what it’s like to have an inventory again?

That movement, though — it does feel as though it’s trying to lead them somewhere. Or, alternatively, trying to get the jump on them. James starts to wish that it would make it clear and get it over with, either way. His grip carrying the chainsaw tightens minutely.]

You don’t need to apologize. I kind of—

[A beat.]

I don’t know. I got what’s coming to me; and what kind of terrible person would I be if I didn’t help you, anyway? If we’re stuck together.

Better two than just one.

[ A chainsaw and a bunch of tarot cards. He's doing well.

Ivan pauses to look back at James, to really look at him. Past just the physical, past even that strange way he can see the time down to the minute that James Sunderland has left on this earth. There's old pain there, broken pieces stitched together with some kind of acceptance.

This place was good for him, in its way. And for once Ivan gets to reap the benefits of something. How deeply ironic. ]

I'm sure you can imagine that I don't typically get a lot of company in my line of work.

[Was it good for him? It was, in the way that really matters. And in another, it’s just a millstone around his neck, carried for the rest of his life as he tries to wrestle with his worst days so he can work towards penance on his best.

Still, maybe he’d be uncomfortable if he knew how deeply Ivan was peering into him. If it weren’t so dark, maybe even James would have an inkling. Maybe not. But as it stands, he just arches a brow at him, and gestures with his free hand.]

Ta-da. Today, you get me. Sorry about that.

[More seriously-]

I’m not happy to be here, but I’m glad that I’m here with you, if that makes sense. I’m not surprised to hear that a job like yours is isolating, so… at least we can buck that trend for now.

[ It can be both. It is both. Human nature is rarely so black and white. ]

Not many people would be glad to be in the presence of a reaper. Still... I'll take it.

[ He plops a hand on James' shoulder, giving it a little squeeze before moving on to the next alcove in the crypt. It's also empty, so they'll need to move onto the next. ]

[James doesn’t smile much these days, but he does spare one for Ivan and that touch of solidarity. Of maybe even gratitude. It’s faint, but also heard in his tone.]

Having a reaper with me right now is a net positive.

[To the next crypt, then.]

…I hope we’re not looking for a full deck.

We're rapidly running out of crypts, if that's the case.

[ There's only a couple left, but it would figure that the next one is empty too, leaving them to scour around the last one until they find another card wedged into an engraving of a tree like it's one of the leaves. On it, fittingly, is a picture of a tree, branches and roots splayed and divided into four quadrants to depict all four seasons.

This leaves them with a gaping archway at the end of the hall of crypts to pass through, and nothing but darkness beyond. Whatever's been skulking around seems conspicuously absent all of a sudden. ]

I'd keep that chainsaw ready if I were you. It's gone awfully quiet.

[One more card for his collection. He looks that one over, too, with some interest before pocketing it. Murmurs his thoughts aloud:]

Weather, or... seasons?

[Either way, it seems they've reached the only direction left to go, and being meet with an awful, complete darkness is nothing new — but it never becomes less unnerving for James.]

Right. [Re: it getting really quiet all of a sudden.] Maybe our friend lurking in the shadows lost interest.

[But probably not. Nothing to do but move forward. What awaits them?]

I doubt we're that lucky.

[ It's nice to hope, anyway. Ivan goes first, stepping through the archway with his little light bobbing along after him. This is... a very large room, all stone walls and dirt floor and no exit to be seen. The sort of place where one might have a boss battle, perhaps, but that's silly right!

In the middle of this otherwise wide open space is what looks to be another grave marker — a hooded figure offering out a stone tablet in skeletal hands. Ivan makes a bit of a face, but approaches all the same. The tablet, reading simply BE NOT AFRIAD has six conveniently card-shaped holes on it. One even has a card sitting in it, a face screaming silently in horror.

So much for be not afraid. ]

I figured out where those cards go. How many did we pick up?

[A VERY LARGE ROOM... WHERE'S HIS SAVE POINT....

James enters cautiously, nearing the grave marker with a darkened brow.]

"Be Not Afraid"... Of what? Death?

[That one card sure looks pretty afraid. James digs into his pocket and unearths the cards he's collected, fanning them out for Ivan to see.]

Four. Sun, rain, clouds, and... tree? I think that one denotes seasons.

So we're missing o— [ one.

This little puzzle session will have to wait, because something in the dark at the fringes of the room wails in a way that makes a shiver run down even Ivan's back. He steps up, instinctively putting himself between James and the source of the noise.

He barely gets his scythe manifested into his hands when the thing darts from the shadows to lock weapons with the reaper. ]

Shit-!

[That wail turns his blood cold. James barely has any time to register what's happening before he catches sight of an awful creature—reaper-shaped, of course—swooping down to attack Ivan.

The cards flutter to the ground (sorry, they'll just have to pick them up later) as James revs his chainsaw back to life. It obscures the drumbeat of his heart in his ears as he rushes forward without a second thought. Much like before, he aims the teeth of his chainsaw straight at the middle of the monster.]

Hey! I'm here, too!

[Sure, this is Ivan's whole Thing, but you can't just pick on him-]

[ Were he not occupied with having this thing in his face, he might marvel at just how fearless James is.

In the moment, though, he's a bit busy keeping this creature away, sparks flying as steel grinds against steel in their deadlock. Then in comes James with his chainsaw, and the weapon bites into the creature's middle, spattering them both with dark ichor. The thing wails again, zipping back to withdraw into the darkness for a temporary reprieve. ]

It's too much to hope you probably killed it, huh?

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