INTRO 001: BEGIN

[706mod]

INTRO 001
NAVIGATION
⩕ ARRIVAL

It’s arrival time. Or is it? For some, this situation seems eerily familiar. In fact, this has happened before, you are sure of it. The voice makes the announcement and the door rolls open. You hear the frightened voice and it begins again.

There might be memories of this place but things will seem… off. As if walls are a slightly different colour, corners a bit sharper, the door handles a bit higher. If you explore the rooms of interest you will find a few things have changed.

The cooler with the tongue is now gone, and in its place a locked door with a strange device placed next to it. It looks like an intercom. The yellow message on the wall has changed, it now reads:

There’s sunshine, daisies, and tulips too
Just remember that when you’re feeling blue ☺

The writing is clearly different than the previous message.

The room with the tube is mostly the same, except the rusted cabinets are now shiny and brand new. The tube’s liquid is now dripping a rust colour fluid.

Any items collected will be somewhere nearby.

⩕ ODE TO BEVERLY

After exploring the new (?) developments something strange is now happening throughout the complex’s floor. A shrill crying. It sounds hysterical.

It leads you to the bathroom with the shattered glass. The sound is coming from the drain of a sink.

There’s broken words, too jumbled to really understand. But the hello from earlier? Definitely the same voice.

As your face nears the sink suddenly long black hair springs from the drain, shooting up and strangling and snaring any bit of you it can. The more you struggle the more it becomes aggressive, cutting in to your skin, peeling away flesh. All the while the shrieking and wailing grows to thunderous levels.

The only way to escape is with outside help. But your rescuer has to be careful not to also get caught.

The hair or whatever it may be seems intent on blood.

⩕ THE CHASM (PART ONE)

Some of you might have escaped the hair with most of your important parts in place. But any open wounds will freely flow blood and not seem to want to staunch. Any materials found seem to be useless in treating the cuts. And when your droplets of blood hits the ground it hisses as if like acid and then unexpectedly the floor around it cracks into a hairline split. The more blood that is dropped the more the cracks appear.

Throughout the following days and nights the cracks randomly split wider and deeper.

Investigating further you will notice that the same nausea you might have experienced before is now back-- and wait! Did you just see a pair of eyes inside those fissures?

Somehow you know in your gut that the only way to stop the progression of the splits is to drop more blood in to it, but not your own. In fact, this idea takes hold despite your better judgement. It is a compulsion. Better find a willing volunteer or perhaps it will come down to a fight.


⩕ HELLO GOD? IT'S ME 7░ ░

Something odd happens many hours in to your stay. Those of you who have found a walkie will receive a broadcast. It is a man speaking. It sounds like an old recording. Soft conversation is happening in the background overlaid with a hum of machinery.

Obviously I am a man of logic. In this day and age how could someone not be? Our primitive instincts are only a tool for survival so our higher minds can concentrate on things like advancement and discovery. This a belief everyone should have. Or isn’t it? It frustrates me that few are on this level of thinking. Too many are preoccupied with that in which cannot be seen. What cannot be hooked in to.

His voice then says your number. You are certain that you have never met this person, but he definitely just addressed you specifically.

I know you are reasonable. Tell me what you believe in? In this moment, what do you believe?

As you answer, you get the distinct impression that the entire complex stills to listen. But whatever frequency he was using is now dead. The question seems to be one to ask one another, broadcasted far and wide.

⩕ ⩕ ⩕ ⩕ ⩕ ⩕ ⩕

⩕ The Chasm will continue to grow throughout the next month. It becomes more and more cumbersome to navigate but the blood does seem to help to keep it at bay.

Comments

[juddas]

[Kraken stays still, lets him sniff him. He smells like old blood ingrained into him. Leather, sweat, propellant, and a hint of rot and decay - but that could be from their surroundings. Blood loss is making him dizzy, but also unusually contemplative. Is this an apparition? Hallucination? How does he know this is real? Maybe he isn't. Kraken tilts his head to the side, wondering.]

I saw something like you, once. [he suddenly says. He's speaking to himself more than anything. Thoughtful, slow, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.] Don't remember much, but I have a feeling. Eyes are the same. Out in the radback. Had less hair than you. One eye. It was in patches. Bit the person next to me and killed him.

[He doesn't know who it was, but he doesn't remember being too upset about it. The glaring sun on his back. The world under his feet. The sense of - of something more. Kraken blinks, falls back to reality.]

I think I like you more. Only if you don't bite.

[clawandscars]

[Tsume listens with the patience of an animal that's had more than one person talk to him without thinking he could understand them. It appears that Kraken has more memories than he does after waking up in this place. It's heartening to think he might regain more of what remains a fuzzy, black blur in his mind.

A pink tongue comes out and runs over his nose. A wolf is not precisely a cuddly, fluffy puppy dog, and Tsume is on the bigger side for a wolf, but he does his best to look disarming. He lowers his head, ears pricked forward. His tail curls upwards and wags, just once, to let Kraken know he's not interested in attacking him.]

[juddas]

[Radback. Drokk. It's things that come to mind that he mindlessly repeats, without really understanding what they are, only that they... are. Kraken's sense of self-preservation is slightly different to most, a remainder of being a Judge and Judda. A wolf is, indeed, just a larger dog. It's curiously disarming. Literally. With a tiny, upturned quirk to his mouth, Kraken slowly puts down the hatchet, the head clinking against the floor.]

Don't bite. [He repeats quietly.] If you do, you'd have played a very clever trick on me and I'll look like an idiot.

[clawandscars]

[Well, he's already missing one hand, so this man is taking an awful risk relinquishing his weapon. Even a German Shepherd has the bite capacity to tear a man's off if they wanted to and a wolf had six times the force in their jaws. If hard-pressed, they could even bend some forms of metal.

But Tsume isn't looking for a fight. This human is showing him a measure of trust, so he'll do the same. He approaches, nails clicking against the floor, right up to Kraken. Then he sticks a cold nose up against him and gets another good sniff in. Don't expect him to lick your hand. He's no starry-eyed pup that needs affection. He's a grown, sensible animal.]

[juddas]

I wonder why you're here [he muses to himself as the wolf clicks closer. There's a buzz in the back of his head, but it's not anticipation or fear. Just something that he's aware of, then folds away.] How long? You're the first animal I've seen. Don't look starved, but that's no indicator - been giving people those eyes then eating them up? It's a - a good tactic.

[He doesn't mean to - but when his cold nose pushes up against him, Kraken snorts. It feels... He likes it. It feels like approval. He raises a hand slowly, caught up in the impulse to touch. His fingertips waver in the air just above his fur, just before coming down a hairsbreadth. If he loses his fingers, he feels like he wouldn't mind that much.]

Tell you what. [he says solemnly.] When I die, you can eat me. Deserve to be useful in death too.

[gunslung]

The wolf is looking at him, and Teddy is looking back. He walks, hand wrapped tight around the hatchet handle but otherwise hanging loose, but stops a considerable distance from the animal once he realises it's watching him with uncertainty.

He looks over himself: his tattered clothing, the blood that drops in rivulets down his arms and the weapon in hand, and then the fact that he's holding a weapon at all. Rationally, he thinks about letting it go. But immediately opposite that idea he thinks but what if it attacks, what if it hurts me, everything hurts me, no-one can be trusted, nowhere is safe, this world does not belong to them-- and for a moment his posture seizes up, stiff and uncomfortable.

But then he relaxes. And he looks at the hatchet again, before finally letting it drop to the floor.

"I won't hurt you." It comes out blunt. Stilted. Teddy's made a decision, but that doesn't mean he knows how to sound comforting.

Blood oozes and pools beneath him, and the floor sizzles under his hands.

"Do you understand me?" Dimly, someone in his head calls him stupid, and the corner of Teddy's jaw tightens for just a tic before he calms himself down. "Are you an experiment, too?

"Everyone I've met here seems to be one, but you're the first animal I've seen."

He furrowed his brows, frowning. "...but I suppose if you aren't, you wouldn't answer me."

[gunslung]

[ Whatever panic Teddy might have felt in insisting the stranger not risk his safety to help him fades at the question like clockwork. How is he feeling. Strange how Teddy isn't sure how to answer that. The question should be easy to ace, but even though his mouth opens to answer I'm fine, the words never seem to make it out his throat, like he's not allowed to lie.

Allowed. What does allowance matter?

He digresses, however, and answers what he can: ] Ten, nine, eight... [ And in this fashion goes down until zero. His voice is detached, syllables careful like the auditory version of feet on a tightrope. Somehow, the concept of emotional affect in a question about feelings doesn't seem like it'd draw a very accurate response.

He looks at the state of his forearms and the blood that dribbles long and sticky to the floor, then observes, very quietly: ] You cut my arm up.

[gunslung]

[ I remember you, Bigby says, and the relief that follows almost has Teddy's feet failing from under him. Fortunately, he keeps enough composure that all he does is lean his back into the wall behind him, sliding until the end of the hatchet touches the floor, then sliding some more so he can be seated. ]

I've been cut up is where I was. [ Indeed, the slices on his arms continue to ooze and drip and stain both his trousers and the floor below. ] But before that I woke up all over again, in that room, in that box, and that voice we were looking for-- whoever it was was the one that hurt me.

There're more people in here, Bigby. More numbers. [ The statement comes out tired. ] 's not just us any more.

the chasm :))))))

[gunslung]

[ You don't ignore a man with a weapon, so Teddy says: ] Then ask it.

[ The idea lodges itself into Teddy's mind with all the sharpness of primal instinct. You see a man with a weapon, and you either engage or run away, and though his grip tightens around the hatchet he carries as well, he doesn't raise it to attack.

Not yet.

Even when every muscle in his body longs to surge forward, to lift his arms, to lodge the weapon in the stranger's head (and, God, it has nothing to do with the fleeting feelings in his chest of it being the right thing to do), he doesn't.

But his posture certainly stiffens with the effort to hold back. ]

But you might not like the answer.

;)))

[juddas]

[Kraken is a hard man to miss and a harder man to ignore - his broad shoulders seem to take up more space than they actually do. He seems a bit... distant at first. But when Teddy answers, his gaze seems to sharpen with a purpose. The corners of his mouth turns downwards, into a serious frown. When he speaks, he has a voice like a saw scraping on bones - a rumble in his chest so deep it may be difficult to make out his words at first.]

I'll be the Judge of that.

[Kraken tilts his head down slightly at Teddy to address him, turning the head of his hatchet with him. He seems utterly unbothered to see Teddy's posture change into something more aggressive.]

Are you aware, [Kraken asks slowly, deliberately. ] of the terrible burden the living bear?

[706mod]

Pressing the button seems to activate the message as many times as he likes! After a few listens he might be able to work out the phrase: “the word on their tongues will open passages”. Seems to be some sort of password.

[sweariff]

[Bigby doesn't answer for what feels like a long time, though in reality it can't be longer than a minute, maybe two. You can't give an easy answer to this question, especially when the details are still slowly revealing themselves at a snail's pace — steady and reliable, but excruciatingly slow. He remembers his home, his...family (regrettably so, but not for the reasons one would imagine; the truth's more complex than that) and what he really is, what he's always been, what he always will be no matter the form or the magic it takes to maintain it.

It's explaining it to someone who might not get what a Fable is, let alone the Big Bad Wolf, that's the hard part. So...he opts for the honest, most straightforward route.]

Because I am human. Sort of, right now. [...Which really isn't that straightforward at all, come to think of it, and you can tell he knows by the way his eyes narrow, already too tired for any of this.] It's...complicated. Whatever your nose is telling you, that's what you should believe.

[He's guessing that it must be sending Tsume some pretty mixed messages right now, though. Maybe not the best advice to give.]

Hey. Does the name "Hesse" ring any bells, or the Black Forest? [If the answer to any of those questions is yes, it would solve a lot of problems.]

[sweariff]

[Not the best news to hear, and Bigby can't stop the low, frustrated noise that rumbles from the back of his throat, stuck at the halfway point between a growl and a sigh.]

Yeah, I know. That's the exact same thing that happened to me and this kid. He thought it was someone he knew, too. I followed the screams and saw it tearing into him, but it got away before I could do anything else.

[Slithered, actually. Not really an important detail, but his brain is anal enough to make it hard to ignore these little specifics.]

How bad are you hurt? [If Teddy listens closely, he'll be able to hear muffled activity from Bigby's end that sounds very much like pacing.]

[gunslung]

No.

[ His eyes flick from Kraken's face to the weapon. He towers over him, looks like a brick shithouse in human form-- but Teddy has seen worse, and Teddy doesn't cower.

He wants to hit him. Already he can tell Kraken intends to hurt him, so what's the shame in hurting him first?

The things with the eyes are telling him to hurt him. The voice in his head is telling him to hurt him.

Teddy's fist tightens. Control. ]

But I gather you'll be telling me about it anyway.

[gunslung]

Well, [ sparing his oozing arms a glance, Teddy lets out a dry sort of huff ] my arms're cut up bad. Won't stop bleeding no matter what I try.

[ But that's not what's important, so he makes sure to speak before Bigby may be able to relay any potential concerns: ] I think something's been changed in my blood, Bigby.

I don't know how to explain it, but it's making cracks in the floor.

[sweariff]

[A very potent pause ensues. Give his brain some time to switch gears.]

...All right. Okay. [He takes what sounds like a deep breath when he says that, and to his credit, it DOES compose him — just a little.] Where are you? I need to see this all for myself.

[It's just a lot to dump over the phone, such as it is, okay.]

[clawandscars]

Is there any animal life in the building? Bugs or rodents, things like that?

[clawandscars]

[There's a moment of tension when Kraken's fingers barely brush up against his fur. Tsume wasn't raised, as the other members of his pack were, among humans. He's never craved their touch the way some wolves do. But he doesn't attack or pull away. In this strange place, he's going to need to get along with people if he wants to survive things like the hair monster that had attacked him.

He opens up his mouth, but it's not to bite down. There's a slow huff of breath, in and out. It's almost like panting, but not quite. He's laughing at Kraken's offer, the clearest indicator thus far that he's understood everything that's been told to him. Well, Tsume just might take him up on it, if worst comes to worst. He's yet to find anything in the way of food in this place yet.]

[clawandscars]

Tsume's long, lean body is full of tension as Teddy approaches. If he gets much closer, he'll bite him. Maybe losing a couple of fingers will teach him not to be foolish when approaching a wild animal. But then the hatchet drops. Tsume stops snarling and cocks his head instead in confusion.

Most humans wouldn't willingly throw away their weapon when faced with a wolf. This man is either very trusting or a fool of a different sort. Tsume approaches, head and tail head high, the sign of a dominant wolf. He's still bleeding all over the place. If he can just push him into position, Teddy's blood will stop the growing chasm in the floor, maybe keep those creepy eyes from staring out at Tsume.

He gives a slow nod of the head at the questions. Yes, he understands you, Teddy. This is not an ordinary animal. Still, he doesn't answer him with words. People can accept an intelligent animal. A talking one usually is a whole other level of weird for them.

[clawandscars]

You're really bad at answering questions, you know that?

[It was like listening to a riddle or something, answering a bit while creating more confusion. He's a wolf that looks human. If he had more of his memories, this would actually make a lot of sense, but at the moment, Tsume is still confused.

The question about names doesn't jog anything at first. Then a memory comes unbidden to his mind at the mention of a forest. He's traveling through one, cloaked in his human illusion. There's an owl with no scent above him. Something's not right with it. He mentions this to someone at his left, someone he can't see the face of.

The owl stares down at them, blank eyes creepy. 'An owl that's suspicious. Wolves that look delicious. They all wandered in and got lost as one. Well done!' It flies off after Tsume leaps up and tries to catch it.]

The Forest of Death...

[He says to himself. The owl had tried to make sure he and whoever he was with had never left. To make sure the forest lived up to its name. A dead thing whose spirit had never left his final resting place, a ghost who tried to make sure the wolves died too.

He gives an all-over shake like he's got a coat full of water, shaking the memory off. What a thing to remember in a place like this.]

No. Neither of those names mean anything to me.

[sweariff]

Because this isn't one you can explain easily. [That comes out a bit snappish, but as with any hard truth, Bigby doesn't spare feelings when there are more important things at stake.] If you could trust me this far, you can trust me a little longer.

[—But then Tsume says something that freezes all of Bigby's frustration, and his expression shifts into one of surprised curiosity. The Forest of Death. Not what he had in mind at all, but he's heard the Black Forest being called similar things before, he thinks. Of course he's a major reason why, but not the only one. You venture deep enough inside any place you aren't welcome in and you'll find more than enough things inside that not only want you gone but want to pick and poke and study you for fun and personal interest, and that not even accounting the ones that are hungry. You don't enter someone's home unannounced. You especially don't enter without bringing dinner. That's the way of the forest.

Bigby watches the noticeable shift in Tsume's posture, the shaking that could read as an uneasy tremble just as much as a tic, and wonders how much the two of them have in common and if it's enough to allow some leeway for the one important, very vital thing they might not share.]

Long time ago, I used to live in the Black Forest. Wolves like you weren't rare. Actually, most of the animals who lived there were like you. [This is the only way he can broach the subject in as honest a way without sacrificing the most important parts of its secrecy. If Tsume is a Fable who just doesn't remember he is, maybe this will be enough to jog his memory. If he isn't, he's at least getting more of the story.] Where I live now, it's not like that anymore. Animals can't talk.

[He looks down at Tsume, expression serious and searching.]

Do you remember anything about where you're from?

[706mod]

The building is very sterile at the moment and no signs of other life.

[freightcars]

[ At that speculation, Barnes falters. Kraken isn't wrong, it's very possible that the wirey hairs themselves are the only thing keeping his throat closed; it's the classic dilemma of pulling a knife out versus leaving it in, or perhaps moving a crushing weight off of someone only to know it would kill them faster than simply leaving it there.

He exhales, stepping in to try and get a better look at the wounds. he can't make out much.

A beat passes. ]

We can't leave 'em on there, [ He reasons slowly, not that he's being condescending or comforting. In fact, it almost seems like he's talking to himself, trying to solve a puzzle out loud. ] Haven't seen a doc since I've been here. No hospitals, no medkits, no way out. Those things aren't gonna clot your wounds. We leave 'em, you're gonna slowly keep bleeding around 'em. We take 'em off, you start bleeding a hell of a lot faster, but there's a chance we can stop it. Your choice, your decision.

[juddas]

[If Kraken were capable of smiling in this state, he probably would have. As it is, the corner of his mouth twitches spastically up, then back down.]

The living have one res- responsibility. To live by the law. [He says this with grave conviction in his voice.] Every person is a potential criminal. Criminality becomes a matter of time, without doubt.

[Kraken takes in a rasping breath. In the quiet, dead air, it sounds very much like an ultimatum. Or desperation.]

The dead don't commit crimes. The dead don't cause trouble. The dead are quiet. [He takes two steps forward, deliberate and heavy.] You either help me pass sentence, or be judged for your crimes.

[clawandscars]

[Some people think animals can't emote very well, but there is a definite frown on Tsume's face. He doesn't like having to rely on other people. Trust has never come easy for him. He doesn't trust people and so they don't have to trust him in return. He doesn't remember yet how he learned to do just that with his pack on their journey to find Paradise together.

He hesitates a long moment at the question, lining up the piecemeal memories of what he remembers about his home all in order to make sense of them all. There's a grim picture painted in his mind.]

It was a dying place. Desolation everywhere. No mountains or forests anymore. Everything had been ruined by the humans. So the wolves that were left hid among them. There was a way to create an illusion to look human when they were near.

[It's much to his frustration that it doesn't work here. Life is easier when he can pass as human. There's less questions and people don't fear him quite as much. He just looks like any other teenager trying to survive a post-apocalyptic world on the edge of death.]