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

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?

[Is it fearlessness or recklessness? Maybe it's a healthy dose of both.

That dark liquid splatters everywhere, far messier than what a pipe can manage. It gets on James' face and he grunts as the monster wrenches itself away, flying back into the shadows for safety. He hastily brings up a sleeve to wipe it off, smearing it across his cheek. A quick look is spared for Ivan, making sure he's okay.]

It's never that easy. Even if we did, it's like you said, we still need another card. We're stuck. Whatever that thing is, I have a feeling it's our ticket out of here.

[ Speaking of fearlessness and recklessness, Ivan gives a nod. ]

Alright then. I'll be bait. You keep hurting it.

[ Said as he starts dashing off to the dark corner where the monster went, orb of light trailing along behind him. He's clearly not waiting for any other ideas.

Sure enough, the monster appears, albeit from a different corner, swooping in to bring its scythe down at Ivan. The reaper backsteps, but doesn't totally get out of the way, taking a slash across his chest for his trouble, crimson spilling down the front of his suit.

They exchange blows for a bit, blades flashing in the near-dark, until Ivan manages to lock weapons with it again. ]

James!

[Jesus Christ. He'd never argue the practicality of it (because why wouldn't the man who can heal incredibly fast not act as bait?), but there's still something about the way that Ivan rushes in without thinking, ready and willing to take a terrible cut across the chest, that has James clenching his teeth. It has his anxiety spiking higher and harder than it does compared to fighting this creature head-on.

It's a reckless disregard for his safety that reminds him too much of himself, and maybe that's not the intent, but he doesn't like to see it. He doesn't know Ivan all that well, but surely he deserves some consideration — if not from himself, then he should at least give James a chance to protect him from harm without defaulting to taking a painful injury.

Still, now isn't the time to bring that up. Not with the creature still menacing Ivan, and so James rushes forward yet again, drawn in by the light. He raises his chainsaw with a yell, then rakes it down across the creature's back as hard as he can.]

Edited (i saw a typo) 2024-10-31 20:57 (UTC)

[ It's a good hit, causing the monster to arch back in pain. It abandons its weapon, scythe dropping into the dirt, but onto so it can whip around and try to nail James with a backhand. ]

[James has gotten pretty good at dodging for his life, but it's been a while, and the heft of the chainsaw is more than what he's used to. He's too slow to lean back, and that backhand tags him across the face, making him whip his head around and stagger back in pain. That'll probably leave a bruise, and now his lip's bleeding.

But pain is also nothing new! So whatever. James digs his heels in to keep balance, then lurches forward again, agitated, raising his weapon up higher to try to catch it against the monster's arm.]

[ The monster's had enough of that and zips off again, unleashing a shriek. Its scythe still lays forgotten on the ground.

Ivan takes half a step, like he's intending to go after the thing, but the fact that James got hit makes him pause. ]

You okay?

I'm fine.

[It's a little short and snappish, but this is all turning into a mess and he's not liking how the monster keeps retreating back into the shadow. James is going to reach down and pick up the scythe by its haft with one hand, even if he has an angry buzzing chainsaw in the other. If that creature wants its weapon back, it can go for James first.

He straightens and looks at Ivan with a frown.]

But why are you running off just to get chopped up? Let me do it.

[ Despite the dark and the lurking danger, Ivan is looking at James like he's just sprouted a second head. ]

What the hell are you talking about? Why wouldn't I go? You're mortal.

[FROWNS MORE DEEPLY, clearly disapproving.]

So, what does that matter? It still hurts when you're injured, doesn't it? You still bleed and break. Don't just offer yourself up like you're nothing.

[ Oh, the eerie silence that permeated the space before the monster made itself known slams down again like a ton of bricks. Ivan's pulse thunders in his ears, a heartbeat that refuses to cease no matter how many decades go by, no matter how grievous the wound.

It shouldn't matter if he gets hurt. Yet, in this one moment, to this one man, it matters, and Ivan doesn't know what to do with that. ]

... Why not? It makes no difference.

[It does matter. It matters because if anyone here deserves to be injured in a fight, it’s James. It matters because he can’t allow himself to be selfish and let someone else bear pain for his sake.

But it also matters because Ivan simply does not deserve being trapped in this cycle where he’s grown to think it doesn’t. Ultimately, he only wanted to save his wife. And James…

Well.

He shakes his head.]

It does make a difference. It’s just putting yourself through… more punishment. And aren’t you already undergoing enough?

[ Who is bearing what for who, here? This is Ivan's trial, these things have manifested here because of him. If one of them must put their life on the line in the name of some kind of penance, it should be Ivan, immortality or no.

Ivan wanted to save his wife, yes, but he ruined so many lives to do it. They're no different, in the end.

Grim reapers are not mind readers, so there's no way for him to know what's truly going through James' head. Ivan can only take his words as they come. Aren’t you already undergoing enough? ]

Am I? [ A small, brittle laugh. ] It never feels like enough.

[ An admission, perhaps, that was a long time in coming. The silence persists, save the low rumble of the chainsaw in James' hand. In his other, something slips free of a groove in the scythe's handle and flutters to the dirt floor — a tarot card, depicting a reaper standing silently in a barren field. ]

[They'll have to agree to disagree on that much.]

Ivan... I know how you feel. [It never feels like enough. It feels like it'll always be a cross to bear, and maybe it's deserved. But no matter what James thinks of himself, he can always spare the grace to think better of others.] But that just isn't true.

[How long has he been doing this? How much more time does he have, living indentured to Death itself? It's awful to think about.

...He sees a card flutter down down. James blinks, eyes tracking it.]

Hey, what's that? Is it another... [The last card?]

[ He huffs out a breath, like he doesn't quite believe that, and bends to pick up the card, turning it over in his hand. ]

Roza never knew the things I did in the name of trying to save her. She just couldn't leave here bed after a while... She only ever asked me once why the doctor and the other villagers had stopped coming to see her. I didn't have the heart to tell her it was because we were the only two left.

[Couldn't leave the bed. Just like Mary, once the disease really took hold of her body.]

Was it... some kind of outbreak?

[To leave only two left? That would've been terrible. Terrifying.]

[ Oh, you sweet summer child. Ivan casts James a look that could almost skew towards pity, if he didn't look so damn sad instead. ]

It was me, James. In order to defy death, I needed life. Their lives.

[A look of surprise in this too-dim lighting, and then all the pieces snap together in his head, painting the full picture. James inhales faintly with this realization — a terrible kind of ritual that could save someone sick and doomed to die, enough to make Death itself demand recompense. Many lives taken for the sake of one.

Yes, it makes sense why this town would call Ivan here.]

...Oh.

Yeah. Oh.

[ That is honestly the correct reaction.

Now that they're seemingly alone again, Ivan makes his way back to the monument in the center of the room, bending to scoop up the remaining cards that were dropped there. ]

I don't think she'd ever forgive me if she knew. [ Roza's friends, her family. All of them gone. ] So why should I forgive myself?

[James steps forward, his chainsaw whirring to a full stop and the scythe still held in one hand. He's going to have to drop one of them soon, but until they're out of this room, he's holding onto both.]

I don't know, Ivan.

[That's not something he can answer in any reasonable, logical way. He's still figuring out how to forgive himself; he doesn't have the means to tell someone else how to do so.]

I just know that from what I've seen so far, you don't seem to be that person anymore. And I think that should count as something.

Mm.

[ Does it count for anything? It's not like Death is about to let him off the hook for good behavior, but... he learned pretty early into this reaper business that the souls under his care deserve more than to be treated with scorn. If he can't at least make their passing a little easier to bear, what good is he?

Does that make him a better person? A different person? He doesn't know.

Anyway, now with all the cards in his hand, minus the one still slotted into a seemingly random slot in the tablet, he fans them out to look. ]

So... what do we think?

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