what goes bump in the night

[topslug]

Who: Anyone out in the Darkness!
When: November 27-December 9th, during the Darkness.
Where: Out and about the city streets.
Summary: New monsters in Siren's Port, and of the particularly nasty variety.
Warnings/Notes: Monster attacks and probably gore aplenty abound.

Comments

nov. 27th; early evening | CLOSED

[tinderfoot]

Tyrell’s looking even more worn down than on the day he made his network broadcast about the moon, sporting more cuts and bruises too. More than that, though, there’s something particularly sluggish about his movements this evening - his footsteps are slow, his eyes are weary, yet even at his worst, he’s still nimble enough to not get himself killed. He hopes.

There’s something relieving about being out here in the Darkness, even when he’s not fighting to save anyone, or not doing anything particular at all. Maybe it’s the rush of adrenaline, that pushes aside most other feelings. You are so incredibly dumb. Maybe he should let people get him like that and all the same he couldn’t help it, he -

No, he wouldn’t think of that right now. It’s a time when it’s just him and the world, there’s his body, breathing, present, limping along. There’s monsters too and that rotten, familiar smell. His feet beat down upon cracked streets. In these conditions, these are the only things that matter. Nothing else.

He’s sick of other people always putting him down. He wants to run away to a place where none of that matters, and this is as far as he can go. He hates that too, but it’s better than nothing. Anything’s better than sitting still and feeling useless.

[boundbytreason]

The 27th marked Caster’s extended stay in Siren’s Port as exactly two months and three days. Time had felt weary for the magus, whose eyes had not seen slumber since her inception into the city. Nevertheless, she continued to toil away into the night, heedless of the Darkness and emboldened by the sight of her destination like an emblem of hope. Even now, her legs carried her down the street in her usual purple-black robe and dark pair of stiletto heels.

Yet, as jaded as she felt, she still maintained her image of a sedate woman, calm and still like water. Even now, her voice mirrored the same serenity as she called out to the boy pinned by the reflection of her eyes.

"Mr. Tyrell?"

Caster’s movement ceased as she shifted to face him, the lowered hood rendering her expression a stark neutral. "Good evening," she greeted him courteously, along with a smile. "I didn’t expect to see you."

You don’t look so good. You should go back home. It’s dangerous out here. These thoughts crossed her mind, but none of them escaped her lips. In her experience, any of those sentiments would bruise a man’s ego, no matter how young he was. Instead, she asked him a simple question.

"What are you doing out here?"

[tinderfoot]

He'd been just about to start running when he heard his name, a strange, unfamiliar mister added to the front of it. While he paused, almost stumbled, really, he considered just sprinting off into the distance, pretending like he'd never heard her before.

Then, however, she chose to show concern. Sure, it could have been an innocent question, but Tyrell knew that there was hardly anyone who'd approve of him racing about in the darkness like this, because they didn't know how he felt. Why did he have to explain himself to her, anyway? He hardly knew her, really. They'd just met the other day.

It made him angry, but ultimately, it was that anger that made him stay. His free hand clenched into a tight fist, he planted his feet into ground, resisting the urge to just keep running forever. He jerked his head, looking away from her, at the sky. "Just going for a walk," he answered, voice and muscles terse.

Because, really, what did it look like he was doing?

[boundbytreason]

Even in the night when the Darkness hung almost tangibly in the air, Caster could read the pride and dignity in the outline of his figure like a warrior at battle. Yet, unless he considered her one, there was no enemy present. If there was a war, it was not with an external cause but, rather, inside the labyrinth of his mind.

For a moment, she fancied the notion of lending him a hand. After all, what was wrong with sundering the walls with another crack to add to the ones already rendering it? However, the idea passed as swiftly as it came, and instead of entertaining her whimsy, another question made it past her lips.

"Was there something on your mind?" Once more, her level voice was a gentle contrast with his terse tone.

[tinderfoot]

Despite their brief period of association, Tyrell had long come to the conclusion that Caster's air of calm was almost supposed to be beguiling in its own way. He was determined to resist the temptation to succumb; he had to stay angry, had to remain certain that was the reason he had stopped, not anything else.

He turned his head to look at the ground, then, before he closed his eyes, looking particularly at nothing at all. "I don't want other people to get hurt or die out here. That's the only thing I care about." Even more quietly, he added, "That's the only thing I can do."

[boundbytreason]

If Caster knew him a little better, she might have clicked her tongue and chided him outright. Yet, as acquaintances, she wouldn’t risk alarming him. At present, he nearly seemed ready to fight-or-flight, and if he decided to rush off, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with him.

"So, you are searching for anyone that may still be left outside in the Darkness," she stated, more as an observation rather than a statement meant to receive a response. "Do you know if anyone needs your help right now?"

[tinderfoot]

His gaze flicked over Caster's shoulder, down the street beyond. It was a bit of a stupid gesture, because it was unlikely that there was going to be anything there that wouldn't immediately make its presence obvious, but it gave him time, however brief, to think about his answer. It was for the best that the moment was fleeting, however, because he still felt himself growing calm despite his previous determination. "There'll be someone, I'm sure of that. There always is."

[boundbytreason]

"That is the unfortunate truth." For a brief space of time, Caster let that agreement hang in the air, amiable and clear, before she spoke again. "Though, the city is vast. It would be far more efficient to have more than one pair of eyes searching, right?" A faint, cordial smile flitted along her lips.

"If I concentrate, I can detect a person's presence from a short distance away. I can look for anyone that is in trouble, and tell you. This way, you could take a moment to rest, and you can be in top condition by the time that someone needs you."

[tinderfoot]

The suggestion, by and large, was an agreeable one. Tyrell was sure that if Karis were here with him, she would be nodding her head and telling him that they could use all the help they could get. Then again, if she was here... Tyrell doubted that he would be outside right now at all.

It was worthless to dwell on all of that, however, because she wasn't here, and he was alone. Nevertheless, he found himself always thinking of what his friends would do, especially when he was alone, because it made him feel like they were here with him. The difference was (and it was an important distinction) that here, so far away, he could ignore them, and he often did. In the end, he was alone, and part of him almost wanted to prove that he could make decisions, make the right decisions, on his own.

So, as was becoming the established pattern, Tyrell briefly considered the benefits of Caster's plan, and compared it to what he actually wanted to do. And what he really wanted to do was run, as unreasonable as that was. His eyes narrowed as he continued to regard Caster; everything was starting to weird him out. Especially the fact that despite all of this, all of this thinking, his mind churning as though in attempt to make up for the lack of movement in his feet, he was still standing rooted to the spot.

Maybe if he wanted to make sense of all this, he'd have to start asking some more questions of his own. Acting as though she'd not made any sort of suggestion at all, he said, "What are you doing out here?"

[boundbytreason]

She read his question as suspicion, clear and sharp. By now, she knew that Tyrell wasn't someone who wore masks and acted out a role on a stage. At times, those kind of people were most dangerous. One easily lowered their guard and underestimated them, until the chains of a well-calculated plan rusted and shattered into nothing more than rubbish. Having once made that same blunder, she wouldn't dare bumble her lines.

It was just like preparing a meal. Too much spice would ruin the food. Sometimes, the natural taste was all that it needed.

"I was planning to visit someone's grave," she answered, speaking candidly. "Someone...that isn't really here." She spoke softly, a bittersweet smile curving her lips.

"But," she added, quietly, "I can save that for later."

[tinderfoot]

He unfurled his fingers before forming a fist again, looking down at the ground. So, it sounded as though she was busy and actually busy, yet she had stopped to question him... why? He couldn't know for certain. In spite of her calm demeanour (or maybe because of it), she was a bit strange. Like she had some ulterior motive that she hadn't made known yet, and that possibility made Tyrell uncomfortable.

"It's okay," he said, still looking at the ground but doing his best to enunciate his words clearly, "if you're busy then I won't keep you."

[boundbytreason]

"I'm not busy, Mr. Tyrell," Caster gently reassured. "I can revisit the past on my own time. But this is now, and what you have said earlier holds merit." She fell silent for just a moment to recall those words. "There is always someone in danger."

Beneath her hood, her eyes idly fell upon his fist, coiled tightly besides him. He almost seemed frustrated or, perhaps, angry, but she could see no immediate cause for it. Then again, she always thought that he had the fighting spirit of a warrior. As long as the Darkness was a token of malevolence, she could understand how it could constantly keep him on his toes. How could the flame of his emotions wane when the predominant scent of danger was like gasoline?

"I dislike the idea of there being any victims either," she added, on a musing note as she subtly reassessed his overall condition. "So, I will be glad to lend you my hand."

[tinderfoot]

It was the second, repeated offer of assistance that made Tyrell decide that he had lingered long enough. He turned on the spot, slowly, as though considering the situation (because he still was, kind of). He glanced back at her over his shoulder and then shrugged. "Fine, but I'm going now." After fervent glances in ever direction he started to walk. "You can come, if you want."

He didn't really care if she did or she didn't.

[boundbytreason]

With his answer given at last, Caster smoothly fell into step besides him in the direction that he chose. Yet, his condition was impossible to ignore. In the Darkness, it was difficult to tell, but she was certain there were a good deal of cuts, along with bruises, covering his flesh.

"I suppose you wouldn't want to rest," she remarked, almost offhandedly. "It doesn't have to be long. Just long enough to treat your wounds, at least."

[tinderfoot]

Despite the fact that his skin was covered in cuts and bruises, he hardly felt the sting of their injuries. So, he's somewhat surprised when she brings it up, and pokes awkwardly at a soft blue mark on his chin as he considers her proposition.

"You can do that? Heal, I mean." It made him feel slightly bitter; almost all of his companions back home had some sort of restorative Psynergy, but no, not him. All he could really do was set things on fire... which had its uses, but they were nowhere near as varied as some of his friends'.

[boundbytreason]

"I can," Caster answered, carefully. "But...I would need the right tools, to say the least."

She would need a catalyst to weave the spell together appropriately, and while she did have an alternative, she doubted either of them would appreciate such a method.

"I was talking about treating them the old-fashioned way." She briefly sent him a sidelong glance, giving him another once-over.