paradisa | EVENT HORIZON

[Chell's stalking around the ship, muttering to herself and hallucinating. Is it you she's stalking? Perhaps? Either way, she's not happy to see you.]

YOU! YOU LIED TO ME!

[She's talking to a hallucination, of course, but don't get too close...She just might attack you instead.]

[ He's not really aware who comes in. He deals with his own monsters by treating the injured. It has become a game: stop the bleeding, close the wound, turn to the next before he slits his patient's throat.

It has worked for several hours now. His stash of Vicodin is all but depleted and his leg is killing him. The others need it more than him. If only he had access to sedatives, they could subdue the rest.

But he doesn't. He doesn't even have enough aspirin for everyone.

House tears more clothing to fashion tourniquets out of them. If this lasts much longer, they're going to start losing limbs. A week is what these changes usually last, don't they? How long has it been? How long--

His leg hurts and he has to stop to massage it. A shuffled step and it almost gives out.

He doesn't notice the woman coming in. ]

Edited 2013-05-07 18:21 (UTC)

[After a while, Pixy finally decided to leave his little blood-coated haven and chose to start wandering the ship again. After all, there were people that needed help in this hell.

He's not walking straight very well. Two bullet wounds in your right leg will do that. He's been shot, stabbed, has those lovely burn marks on his neck and the rest of him is covered in blood- both his and from the gore rooms of the ship. But mostly his.

Every now and then he stops, quickly drawing his gun and firing- firing at that hallucination. The Demon Lord of the Round Table. Cipher. Always haunting him.]

Get the hell away, Demon Lord. You got in my way once. I won't let you do this again.

You don't even have a reason to fight, bastard!

[Not that shooting a hallucination is doing anything, seeing that he's still there.

You'd best be careful if you get close to Pixy. He may be wasting ammo, but he's still firing in a confined space with metal walls.]

[Strangely, enduring years of seeing things that no one else can see and hearing voices no one else can hear? Allen is faring pretty well against the hallucinations. He knows to not listen, not give them an ounce of attention. Even Mana's voice doesn't even seem to reach him (even if it gives him pause sometimes), the castle has pulled that one before. ]

[His Father would never say things like that. Maybe he really didn't love him, but he would never act so cruelly. That's not the person Mana Walker was. ]

[Instead, he throws himself into medical work. He can't fight against the people going mad, they are human and he cannot kill humans. So he resorts to staying in the clinic, treating any person that comes in. He works feverishly, no matter how many hours pass. At this point there's been so much blood that his hair seems closer to a pinkish color than it's usual snowy white. The rest of his clothes, well- you guys really need less bloody injuries if you're going to whine about aesthetics.]

[Eventually he finds a pause in his treatments, glancing around as he takes a breath with a wary eye. The idea that one of the people who have lost their mind might come in hasn't slipped his mind. He's got a few knives he's found just in case they do.]

Anyone next?

Edited 2013-05-07 18:30 (UTC)

[ Ino isn't doing so great, really. She's been faring pretty well against the hallucinations, and concentrating on the medical work that must be done ... but she looks exhausted. Worrying can really take its toll ...

She's sitting in medical when he appears. She knows that it's probably not real, but she can't help but gape in surprise when her father is standing across the room ]

[She's sticking to the shadows. Her side had been clumsily fixed enough so that she could move and wouldn't bleed out. Her mother, Peter, Quinn, and Billy were all around her, taunting her]

Not my fault, mother. Snow's fault. She led the soldiers to the den. Shoulda let you kill her. Should let you kill them all.

[If you approach, be careful. She's likely to attack you]

[after leaving the clinic, Gale is more determined than ever to find the way out of here. he had heard about the strange tunnel, the one with the moving walls, so he heads in that direction, following the far off sound of the canary. the further he goes, the darker it gets, and he has no light.

faintly, he can hear the scrape and chink of picks on stone. the air starts to grow stale in his nostrils, and Ye prays he's not going deeper in, by mistake.

sometimes, if you go too far in, the tunnels are unstable.

then you never come out.

he sings quietly to himself to keep the panic away, though it's more of a mutter]

And it's go, boys, go -
They'll time your ev'ry breath,
But ev'ry day you're in this place,
You're two days nearer death!
.... But you go ....

[There's one big issue with being a demon: being exposed to a certain type of evil tends to have a negative effect on your wellbeing. Especially if you've lived in a magical castle for over four years and you've, by and large, not been exposed to the abilities of your superiors for quite some time.

And so, Crowley is wandering the hallways, hummming a jaunty tune, trailing his fingers along the walls, not even noticing when they slide through the blood-stained ones]

[The dolls.]

[They're everywhere.]

[Garry is huddled against a wall, visible eye wide as he stares in front of him. Everywhere he looks has a blue doll, with it's wide stitched grin and big red eyes. They're laughing at him. Why was he running away? That was useless. He belonged there with them, he was nothing more than a fake. As if to answer his own internal denial, he can sometimes see his hands turn blue as well, with red stitches along the sides, and his eyes feel like they're burning if he stares at them for too long.]

[He has to protect Ib at all costs. He has to stop them from getting her, because she is the only thing that matters now. Before he finally gives in, he has to end all of this so that she'll be alright. And there's one way how...]

[Garry shudders, holding himself tighter. He feels so cold.]

I-I'm one of them...I have to...stop it. Stop it. Stop it forever. For her...

[Feferi is prowling the corridors near the gravity core. She's calling to the air, in a mix of english and a language that has far too many consonants and odd glottal stops everywhere. It may even hurt the ears, a little. The language of the Horrorterrors is not nice to hear.]

Stop it! YOU'RE KILLING TH-EM! s'tCK Mngxfe pwotczq! Klbikt kthelh, Gl'bgolyb!

[Sherlock's mind is reaching its limit. It's run itself ragged just trying to keep itself together, and is stuttering and stumbling to process everything. Each corner is a new hallucination: Lestrade, disappointed and disbelieving; Mycroft, lamenting the choice to drag his troublesome little brother out of the gutter; Moriarty, lunging, laughing, killing.

The only one that stays consistent is John, trailing after him wherever he goes. The vast majority of the little mental energy Sherlock has left is going to ignoring him, the cold expression, the dead eyes, the shouted (and justified) accusations.

Moriarty's killed John once or twice. But still, every time Sherlock checks, he's there.

It's exhausting, and yet Sherlock still oscillates wildly between silent and still to riled with agitation, swaying on his feet, shouting at nothing. It's the latter right now, while he drowns out Moriarty's cackles.]

Don't tell me you've run out of new material! Such a disappointment, Paradisa. Come on, come on! I'm getting bored!

[Unlike most, Bladewolf has managed to to keep his mind together. Being a robot with only rudimentary emotional responses programmed for the purpose of making his interpersonal interactions had it's advantages. When he's not standing guard at the entrance to the Gravity Drive, he's prowling different areas of the ship, looking for the injured, and trying to find a way out that won't necessitate opening the ship to space. Should someone be looking for a fight when they find him, he'll run away rather than fight, and he's a very fast runner.]

[Muraki stalks the halls of the Event Horizon, a bone saw clenched tightly in one hand, blind to anything else going on around him, besides the figure he's pursuing. A boy long dead - though not through his own hand. At least...this time.]

Saki. Sakiiiiiiiiiii...you can't run forever, Saki...

[The expression on his face isn't fear, but rather a maniacal grin, far too wide and sharp to be pleasant.]

SAKI!

[The core. He'd been drawn to it from the beginning. There was something magnetic about it, and now it had brought him the one thing he wanted most. The chance to murder his half-brother himself. He knows, with sharp certainty, that finally this is a place that he - no, that everyone, belongs. And with this realization comes glee, that bubbles up as laughter, low and dark at first, but flying out of control into a raucous, unbalanced laugh that only come from the utterly insane.]

[Faye is, for lack of a better term, traumatized. Between seeing so many of the people here turn on her and the horrific hallucinations that haunt her, she has been in better shape.

She meanders aimlessly through the corridors as if searching for something -someone. Eventually her emerald eyes glass over before she squeezes them shut, drawing her gun.

When they open again, she's not all there, and she's aiming straight ahead.]

You idiot! Don't you know what you're doing? [She points the barrel of her gun to the ceiling and fires.] You can't just leave everything behind!

[Her aim recalibrates forward again.] Stop running away!

[She missed her target before. She isn't planning on missing it again.]

[Gary’s sanity is gone...he looks exhausted and beat up.

He’s slumped against one of the corridor walls. He's just staring into space. Occasionally one of the many victims of the organisation will wander past him to mock him...tell him his work was for nothing.

Berate him for killing them.]

It...Wasn’t my fault!

It was the only way....you can't blame me for it!

[ Anne is not jumping at shadows. She has already witnessed the darkness beyond them, and felt the fire that burns volcanoes. She still shakes, but then she finds her son again, and holds his little hand, and it makes her smile. For moments, just moments, she doesn't look scared. He tells her she should be a merciful queen, and not so bitter towards them all.

That only makes her cry again, and this time Anne can't stop her weeping as she wanders. She could be a ghost herself, with soot and ash smeared all over, darker only than the blood stains though no open injuries are visible. Her green dress is torn, shredded in places with bite marks visible to anyone looking. Her wails stretch far ahead of her, echoing through the metal halls and rooms, and the stench of sulfur lingers in her wake.

Some she will put out of their misery. Others she will see suffer first, as her Prince Henry's eyes are closed. ]

["Don't go crazy."

those were the words that Dextera could pick up among the chatter and screaming and noise that was assaulting his ears. her words, the Absolute God's, were useless at this point however.

it was hard not to go crazy when you were already there.

he walks unsteadily around the ship, dragging his sword behind him. it felt much heavier than usual.

"How many people have you killed Dextera? You know what the Meta-Beings truly are, after all. Maybe I'll keep track for you."

Crying, Dextera pressed a hand against his head but upon hearing a Meta-Being coming too close to him, takes a swing with his sword at thin air. he hits nothing, of course, but in his mind the creature was gone.

but he couldn't stop. they'd kill him if he stopped moving. so Dextera moves on, once again dragging his sword and the voices behind him. don't stop don't stop don't go crazy.....]

[Danny runs, gasping and stumbling, as he tries to get as far away from HIM as he could. How could this have happened? His evil future self didn't exist anymore! He'd stopped that future from happening! His family was still alive.

...Weren't they?

At the thought he stumbles over an unevenness in the floor and tumbles to the ground with a soft sob. As he raises his eyes and begins to scramble back to his feet, his face whitens with terror at the presence of something only he could see. Danny lets out a small scream as he throws himself backward.]

You can't be here! I won't turn into you!

[He can't look. He can't look, can't look, can't look, but 5 knows he's there. Watching him. Talking to him. And his voice sounds like it always has; 2 sounds calm and jovial, setting a metallic hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You're dead, 5. You know that, right? It's about time that you accepted it, I think... because what you're imagining right now is all just a lie. I know that's hard to hear, and I'm sorry, but-- seeing you like this is painful! Come back to us. I miss you. Don't leave me behind..."

5 shakes his head, covering his ears as tears stream down his face. He's not dead any more. But the voice tears at his heart and he can't stop himself from turning to meet the gaze of his friend, his mentor... the one who had died while he stood by and watched in horrified disbelief. 2's eyes are empty and black-- soulless, charred, smoking. Like in his nightmares, and the memories he wanted to forget.

"If you don't come back, it'll kill you again. It's already on its way. Hurry up, get it over with-- before it's too late!"

And all at once he can hear the sound of clanking and clattering reverberating down the hall... the inhuman shriek of that metallic abomination. Images flash through his mind; he falls to his knees, hyperventilating, his hands rising to his own throat. He can't let it get him. Not again. Not again not again no no no no no--]

No-- I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll c-come back, I'm sorry, please-- don't let it do this, I DON'T WANT TO DIE AGAIN!!

[Bruises, concussions, and stab wounds? No big deal. Steph can roll with that any day. Hallucinations? Annoying, but she thinks she can handle that too, though every now and then she seems to be startled by something out of the corner of her eye.

Crazy boyfriends in space? Well, this is proving to be not as easy to handle, and that's what has her visibly uncomfortable.]

What exactly do we do now? Everyone's losing it.

[Claws out, hair hanging in front of and hiding her face, Nepeta is mumbling quiet words of encouragement to herself. She's trying so, so very hard to keep it together despite how hard it is. Her voice is soft and shaky, and it would be hard to make out the words she's speaking.

Every so often, as if someone is sounding a sudden buzzer, she shrinks and winces and shuffles along a bit faster.

The hallucinations are just that: hallucinations. But they're incredibly unnerving, and Nepeta's likely to lash a claw out at an unsuspecting passerby if she or the other is not careful.]

[There's someone who will be heading towards the Gravity Drive.

Someone who doesn't look in possession of all his senses. His eyes are focused dead ahead, but are dull as he walks listlessly. He's mumbling;]

Delta is for Charlie, Charlie is for Cain. Cain is for Carlos.

[He stops after a while. Staring blankly ahead.]

Carlos... Cain... Delta... Bourne. Bourne again. Always Bourne. Never me. Marie fell in love with Bourne, not me. The man, the assassin, the killer.

I'll end it.

Delta is for Charlie, Charlie is for Cain. Cain is for Carlos...

[and he starts walking again.]

[He can't escape the tune. For hours now, on an endless repeat, the tinny noise of the music box has been playing in his ears. He's searched the whole ship looking for the source. If he can find it, smash it to pieces once and for all, he'll be able to escape this godforsaken ship. His hands are a bloody mess from trying to pry the ship apart, as if what he seeks in buried somewhere in its gory depths.

But it always eludes him.

The only time it fades, the only time it gives him a moment of peace, she's there, just out of the corner of his eye, blond hair and a cryptic smile, and it doesn't even matter that he knows she's dead because he can feel her there]

You left. There's no reason to haunt me now.

[But apparitions don't listen to reason, and so she stays]

_{[ He doesn't really know where he's going, all he knows is that he's heading for the heart of this world, this thing the Castle had made. In his hand is gripped a make-shift blade, the handle slick with his own blood where it bit into his skin. His eyes are almost fully gold, his pupils narrow slits, the thinnest of black threads.

As he walks, he's speaking, his voice sweet, cajoling. ]}

Stop fighting me, fools, and be get out of my way. Do you really think you can stop me? You can't, the only one who could is gone! You all couldn't save him, now I'm your only hope. So get out of my way, and live to see another day...

_{[ He kept walking and cajoling, making his way towards the center. Someone really should stop him...]}

[ Pushing sweat-damp hair away from his face, Gwaine ignores the Arthur threatening him. Earlier he had run the shade through when it called Morgana a whore. He had not noticed until he did and it wasn't real, it wasn't real and still he panicked and dropped his blade and fell and sobbed like a child.

A drunken lecher without honor or decency. Sir Gwaine of Camelot.

Gwaine looks at Arthur and laugh and laughs and laughs and laughs.

He has not sought anyone else. Not since losing Lucrezia. Morgana, he has to care for Morgana. Witch. Whore. Kill her. Kill her. He grabs her elbow and drops his head on her shoulder. ]

Talk to me, love. [ He pleads rather than requests. ] I need to hear you.

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