enya (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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bakerstreet2017-08-31 08:51 am
enya) wrote in bakerstreet2017-08-31 08:51 am
Entry tags:
I'm the damaged, lonely outsider
 You know you're a freak and that, sooner or later, everyone you've known will leave you. And why wouldn't they? You're so different. An outsider. Maybe it's socially, because of your family or situation, your appearance, or, in a rare case, some ability that seperates you from others, but it's all the same, even if you're oppressed for your differences or if you slide under the radar. You're in a hell of your own design - loneliness. Until you meet another freak, someone else incredibly different...someone who also wants to stay with you. The circumstances, good or bad, under which you met don't matter, because you're not alone anymore. In fact, this person makes you want to look past any self-loathing or low self-esteem you may have and be better. At least they do on some level. Why they care, you don't entirely know. One thing is for certain, however: you'll do anything to keep them safe and by your side. Your situation may just come in handy, for once.
|
Eren Jaeger | Shingeki no Kyojin
J.D. | Heathers: The Musical
lisa garland | silent hill
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Since she's been under Kaufmann's thumb for like... seven years, I don't know how these two would have met, but I'm totally open for suggestion. :D ]
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But yes. I'd really like to see someone actually try to save her from the Otherworld. I'm not sure if it would work out or not, but it would be cool to see someone give her a fighting chance. I can take her from... maybe mid game? Where she's starting to remember, but hasn't quite put the pieces together yet. ]
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So I went for an assumed CR thing here, let me know if anything doesn't seem to work for you! ]
Rex was an unusual young man for an endless number of reasons. In some ways he was similar to the unfortunate chosen one who had lead to the current state of Silent Hill, though also vastly different. Isolation and trauma had lead him dangerous far along a path towards madness of his own, but he had been fortunate enough to have something to help him turn back. He still felt that his status as a so-called 'destined hero' was nonsense, merely having a purpose at all was enough to stave off those final steps.
And then something else had help him further. Having someone to admire. He had been guided to Silent Hill by forces he barely comprehended, even with his occult knowledge. The only friendly face had been hers and even if his own face was far from friendly, she'd treated him kindly. For a man his age, he was dangerous- but around Lisa, he wasn't a danger. He was a guardian. It was a feeling he'd never felt before. It made him more complete. He was still making progress in unravelling the secrets of the town, in hope of fulfilling a goal thrust on him, forced to leave Lisa in the hospital. But he only ever did so after making sure she was safe as one could be there and importantly, he always, always came back. Not because it was part of his quest, or because the town brought him there.
But because there, in the darkest place in the world, was someone he admired.
And when he did come back, his first order of business was making sure she was safe. Roaming the bizarre labyrinth, he didn't call her name. Even he couldn't fend off an entire building of abominations if he attracted too much attention. But a methodological search found her again. In another of those horrid rooms he could completely ignore because of her.
"Lisa." As ever he had a quiet manner, playing his cards close to his chest, with dark eyes half lidded. But relief in his voice at simply seeing her. "You're okay."
Translated from Rex's understated ways, he told her he was so glad to see her, that he'd do anything for her.
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The rare moments that Harry or Rex could stay with her for longer than a few minutes at a time; when her anxiety dwindled down to a tolerable level, she could feel an underlying pain that she surmised was some trauma that she couldn't remember. Maybe she had fallen when she blacked out. Maybe she hit her head. The withdrawal symptoms were there with or without the adrenaline coursing through her veins; though they seemed muted. Overall, she felt tired. As a medical professional, she was no stranger to the effects of long hours and taxing work, but this tired feeling was different. She didn't try to dwell on it too much; not when fear overruled pain and exhaustion.
With that very fear heightening her senses, her attention is immediately drawn to the door at the sound of the knob being turned. There's always the uncertainty that lurks in the back of her mind before she actually sees who's on the other side. The moment Rex comes into her line of sight, she stands up from her chair, relief washing over as well. She offers him a tired smile after he speaks. It was nice... nice to know that someone really cared about her wellbeing. A small comfort in a desperate time.
"Yes, I'm fine." She takes a few steps toward him, eyes assessing out of instinct. Looking for anything out of place. It's amazing how anyone could survive out there. The hallways alone were telling of how dangerous it must have been. "I'm... really glad to see you. Are you alright? No new injuries?"
At least she could be good for something if he was hurt.
[OOC: Do bear with me over the next couple of days, as my replies may be slow. xD I actually AM a nurse irl and yeah. Work. 12 hour shifts. Good times. ]
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His eyes are always sharp and calculating, dark in colour and purpose, but that means he sees the way she looks him over. Makes sure he's not hurt, the first person to do so for so long. Unfortunately her present evaluation will spot the odd way he holds his left arm, the forearm kept away from his body more than his right. The little red patches appearing through even his thick blue coat. A bite, from one of the dogs that roam outside. He doesn't seem eager to share the details, but is unwilling to lie to her. So he shrugs and downplays it, shutting the door behind him with his good arm- after sheathing the deadly looking knife he always had in arm's reach. "Nothing worth worrying about."
Quickly moving on, not wanting to worry her and preferring to move on to caring for her instead, he didn't give her time to call him out before swinging his backpack off his shoulder and offering it to her with his right hand. "I decided to get you some things. If I can't persuade you to leave with me... I have to make sure you're okay here."
A practical approach, as was his way. The pragmatic items he'd filled the backpack with proved that further. Simple foods that didn't need facilities to prepare, bottles of water. A flashlight. Other useful things. Probably the one that most showed how he could mix functional and emotion was a pair of sensible shoes. "I had to guess your size... but I thought it might be hard to be stuck in heels."
Saying it aloud broke his stony face a little, like he found showing kindness to be embarrassing. Eyes averted, a slight worry of his lower lip. Perhaps fearful his gift would be rejected, or thought as silly. Or worried she might press the issue of his arm. It was so hard to be cared for.
[ ooc: Yowzer! You take all the time you need, long gone is the time I had all day to thread too. ]
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The sudden change of subject cuts her off. For now. With a slightly inquistive expression, she takes the bag from him, pulling the zipper to get a closer look inside. Far be it from her not to accept something from a... friend. A friend who really cares; no strings attached. This gesture moves her beyond what words can describe. She's safe enough here, isn't she? Didn't he have other matters to attend to? Matters that took priority? Not that she's complaining, but... how was she priority?
Moreover... how many people did she know who would go through hell and back just to assure that she had more practical shoes? That alone was astoudingly kind of him. To her, that is. As she sets the bag down on the chair, she looks at him again. Oh, come on now. What's with that expression? She can't help the soft laugh that escapes under a breath.
Walking the remaining couple of steps to stand in front of him, she reaches to touch his cheek in some attempt to get him to look at her again. Whether he does or doesn't, she smiles softly and then, minding his injury, wraps her arms around him to pull him into a gentle hug.
"Thank you," she whispers.
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Certainly he has priorities that, logically, outstripped her. Logic for once took a backseat to his planning. Empathy had been asleep for a long time but all it had taken was a little from her and it had awakened.
A quiet 'mm' of surprise slips out of him as she turned his head with no resistance. Eyes wide for once, rather than that hooded way they stayed most of the time. He makes no attempt to prevent or dislodge her soft embrace, even as internally embarrassing as he finds it. Normally his thick coat hides his slight frame. The hug reveals more about him than he'd like, body and spirit. Because he can't stop himself from growing the smallest of smiles, that leaks ever so slightly into his voice as he awkwardly pats her back in that way only those totally unaccustomed to simple affection do.
"It's nothing special," he mumbles back. Yet that she appreciates it means the world to him.
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"Maybe not to you," she says as she pulls back. And then, taking a small step away so not to crowd him for too long, she motions toward one of the empty cots. "Do you have time to rest for a while? You must be tired... I can't imagine what you must have gone through to get all of this."
A pause. She glances at his injured arm. Hopefully it really wasn't too bad for how much he downplayed it. "There are some supplies in here... Please let me help you? It's the least I can do in return."
Treating his injury aside, she hopes he will stay for a while longer. Even if he needs to sleep for a couple of hours, it would be so much better than staying in this hospital alone. She's on the verge of desperation. The various noises from outside the windows and in the hallway she could almost ignore; everything that was all in her head was much harder to dismiss. However, she's trying to keep it together, busying herself by tending to him would take her mind off of her fear for a while.
"I specialize in wound care if it makes you feel any better." She remembers that much. Though, it's strangely chilling.
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Almost by instinct, he opens his mouth to let her know he doesn't need help and leave it at that. Because he's been standing on his own two feet until now, his immediate preference is to handle everything by himself. But his lips go back together and then get worried for a second as he thinks it over briefly. Logically, having a nurse (an expert in exactly what he needs too!) treat him is simply the best objective choice. The fact he doesn't wish to burden her, wants to achieve the exact opposite, is quietly considered and rejected. He trusts that if she offered, she wants to help.
"I can stay a while. And if you want to take a look... I would be grateful." Another foreign concept. He's not had someone to be grateful to. Nor someone he felt he could risk becoming reliant on. But a little part of him says it's safe to rely on Lisa- because he won't let anything happen to her anyway.
He undoes his coat and slowly discards it, sparing a sideways glance towards her as he does. He already feels naked without it, the huge thick thing something of a safety blanket. Hiding how slight his build is despite his height. If his haggard expression was a preamble, his body was the whole tale. The black long sleeved shirt didn't show the blood nearly so much as the blue of the coat, but it has the shimmer of a soaked object.
"Should I. Uhm. Take this off or just... roll up the..." A slightly awkward and embarrassed line of enquiry, a departure from his usually so stoic manner. He's a young man who is aware he's scrawny and covered in scars and though he knows as a nurse she must have seen far worse... there's a reason he always wears something to make him look like he has twice the muscle mass.
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Hearing the sheer amount of discomfort in his voice alone clues her in to how he must be feeling. There were plenty of people who preferred to stay fully clothed. It's understandable and this situation is, by no means, dire. Not enough to compromise his comfort. Or so she hopes.
"Unless you have any other injuries, you can just roll your sleeve up." She offeres him a sympathetic smile as she turns to face him again, crossing the room back toward him. After setting her supplies down on the top end of the nearest cot, she pulls on a pair of latex gloves before reaching one hand out to him. "Let me see?"
The soaked appearance of his sleeve does have her a bit concerned. He definitely bled a decent amount with this. She can only hope it looks worse than it is. "What happened to you out there?"
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"No, just this." His sleeve rolled up, he's not quite skin and bone. There's enough muscle to show he's active, but scrawnier than he should be. He successfully swallows the wince as the cloth peels off of his injury, his forearm bloody and punctured- but not savaged. A ring of pierced skin but evidently the dog did not have the time to do its worst by thrashing its head. Rex had made sure it regretted its decision before then. Though that's the only fresh injury, there's evidence of more even on that small part of his body. A scar from a blocked knife attack, a small burn scar or two. Scrapes from scavenging.
Obediently, he extends his arm for her to examine it as she requires, sat on the edge of a cot for ease. He watches her carefully, apparently more eager to learn then concerned for his injury. He's in good hands, he knows.
"I decided to take a shortcut through a backyard... Hopping the fence, I landed on glass or something- made some noise. Out there, there are these dogs. Look like they don't have skin, but their jaws work just fine." With his calm, impassive tone he makes it sound almost routine. Like he can handle anything, no matter how grotesque. Partially that's hopefully to lessen her worrying. Partially it's because it is spectacular hard to disquiet him. "...You know, it's funny. Back home they call me Black Dog. Because of my name. And they say I'm depressing."
And other reasons even less savoury, surely. He wonders if maybe the reason he and Lisa have become friends is because it takes being in Hell to make someone with his outlook seem appealing.
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Goodness, though. What else was out there? It only made her want to stay put even more even though leaving might ultimately be the better option. What else was Rex witnessing? What else was Harry having to go through to find his daughter? Moreover... What was Cheryl going through? How terrifying for a little girl to have to bear witness to such a dark world.
Laying out a paper towel on his lap, she lowers his arm down onto his knee so that he doesn't have to contintue holding it out for her and also so he doesn't get blood on his pants. She then pours a bit of sterile water from a small bottle onto a wad of gauze and goes to start cleaning the blood from his arm. So many scars. This bite would hopefully heal well enough that it wouldn't add to them. Hopefully. He must have been through a lot even before this. It's no wonder he can survive in a situation like this.
Listening to him speak, she can't help but look at him again. Calling someone depressing isn't that funny! "Depressing?" She hums softly in thought as she returns her attention to his arm. "Just because someone's quiet and reserved doesn't mean they're depressing." Pause. "Though I like Black Dog. It fits you. In a good way."
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He does his best not to let a hint of discomfort show, with a few slips that he suppresses seconds afterwards. Again, part of it is so she doesn't worry. The rest is the almost instinctive response of a man not to lose face in front of a pretty woman. It's another little breach in his otherwise very logical mindset, but he can't help it- it doesn't reach high up his thought processes to be shot down. It's the same way his morose sense of humour finds it drily amusing that the Black Dog would be bitten by another hound.
His head tips from watching her work to her face at her approval of the title. "You think so? I am not so sure I am dog like." Back to watching her hands, he struggles to find an addition to his comment. He wants to try and say something clever, a single way he is like a dog. In the end he settles on- "Except perhaps, I fetched you your slippers."
A slightly lopsided smile there, like he can't decide if it's a joke until he knows how she took it.
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But, hey... At least the dogs weren't rabid. There may be vials of the vaccination in emergency/triage; if not there, then in one of the supply rooms on the second floor. But trying to hunt them down in highly occupied corridors would be... terrible. And that was an understatement.
Of course she wouldn't fault him for wincing; animal bites were painful. Her touch does become much more gentle when she notices him wince, responding with a murmured 'sorry' or two under a breath. Especially when she goes over it again with peroxide. Because he's not getting an infection on her watch! Not today, sir.
His comment does get a genuine laugh out of her. "I guess so!" She giggles. "You've also come back to check on me. You've been true to your word. You're protective. You're strong and... clearly very brave to be going through all of this alone. So... Let's see. Loyalty, courage, a good sense of direction, strength," She spares him a passing glance and... her gaze softens at the very sight of his smile. It was good to see that he does smiles every now and then. "All of those are good traits that are very much in common with a dog."
And at that point, she's about done treating his arm. She spreads some ointment over the bite, places a non-adherent pad over it and begins wrapping it tightly with a roll of gauze for added pressure. "I'll give you a roll of gauze to take with you just in case. You can replace this bandage or reinforce it if you need to." Sealing the end of the roll with some medical tape, she takes one last look at her work and then steps back with a satisfied nod of her head.
Finished! And... it looks good. It's strangely gratifying to see a wound that doesn't... continue to bleed. Or seep.
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Whilst transforms into a more even smile as she apparently enjoys his little joke. Symmetrical but small. He can't recall the last time he made someone laugh. It must have been when he was just a child. It stays in place throughout her kind words, cheeks slowly picking up colour. It must have been the same length of time since someone had something like that to say to him. Lost in the words for a bit, he forgets the passing of time. Next thing he knows she's done and he almost sends a hand out to grab her wrist, like he can't bear for her to be even a step away.
Instead he holds his arm out and flexes it, squeezing his hand into a fist and out again, twisting and turning at the shoulder. Seems it moves just fine, even if there's a dull throb reminding him to not put pressure on it. The smile fades back to flat line of usual, but the heat remains on his cheekbones as he nods in approval of her work. "I'm very grateful." He almost whispers it as he runs his other hand over the gauze.
He'd considered taking her through the hospital with him, even if he could not get her to leave. She still seemed to cling to the idea that she belonged there. He hardly thought he was invincible, but perhaps if he could show her that he was dangerous in his own way- that he could keep her safe with his fangs... Maybe she would have the confidence to leave with him. Maybe he was like a dog after all. If he was treated well, he'd do anything for the person that was kind to him. Is that a bad thing? Maybe not if it was mutual.
"I suppose there's nothing wrong with being a dog after all." His taciturn way of saying he took her compliments to heart. That her words were as important to him as her medical care.
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"No. Not at all." At least his injury is taken care of and he is able to move his arm; especially with the knowledge that there are creatures that could possibly smell blood roaming around Silent Hill. No need to worry quite as much. Keyword being quite. It's still so dangerous, but... at least he's here with her for now. Turning a bit, she glances back over at the backpack on the chair.
"I think I'll put those 'slippers' on now." Because given the option, she would be crazy not to take advantage of it. She walks back over to the chair and moves the bag to the floor before she sits down. When she takes her shoes off, there's a red ring around her foot left behind where the mouth of the shoes had been and her ankles might actually be a touch swollen. She hadn't been sitting down the entire time he'd been gone after all. Worry and fear had her pacing and then standing at the door every now and again, daring to venture further into the hospital. The latter of which she couldn't quite bring herself to do. Yet.
After pulling the shoes from the backpack, it doesn't take her long to slip her feet into them and tie the laces. Ahhh. So much better. They fit well enough so that they don't cause any discomfort. At least she could actually run if the need were ever to arise. Run without the possibility of tripping and hurting herself, that is.
"I don't think I realized how much my feet actually hurt until now. Thank you so much. These are great." She rotates her ankles a bit as she sits up straight and looks at him. "If you need to rest, I can keep watch. Unless Harry comes back, I doubt we'll have any more company."
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Was even better.
So even though they might even in some form of literal Hell, Rex was quite possibly the happiest he had been in years, seeing Lisa appreciating what he had done for her. It still felt like a small gesture even if achieving it had required danger and actual injury. She had clearly done more for him. He even considered her gratitude to be a reward- the breath of someone escaping discomfort was music to his ears. He had made her safer too, which was the most important part. A thought struck him that he should teach her, if she didn't know already, how to fire a gun. He was sure he could get a spare somewhere.
He nods a silent 'you're welcome' to her thanks, blinking slowly at her offer to keep watch over him whilst he rests. It's plain to see that he doesn't sleep much, even at the best of times. Rex can only sleep soundly under two very circumstances- after feeling deeply satisfied from a victory and when in a place of utmost safety. Such things do not come often and haven't come now. But he knows from experience that just laying down for a while can make a world of difference.
"...I'll stay. But I think you need rest too." His sharp eyes darted to her feet, back up. Knowing signs of fatigue, not just physical but mental intimately. "I'll bar the door. We can spend some time..."
He doesn't say 'together', because he thinks if he does his voice might crack just a little. With a sort of joy that might make him cry.
"...Recuperating."
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At the suggestion that they both rest, she can't help but feel a little uneasy. Did she need rest? Yes. Without a doubt, she was also exhausted. She very obviously looked it if he was pointing it out. Barring the door might ensure some measure of safety, though she would hate for Harry to be stuck out there if he were to come by again. But then, all he would have to do is knock.
And that's assuming Harry is still alive.
"Well..." Her brow furrows as she takes a glance back at the closed door. This is fine, right? They would be safe. And she can't really argue with the idea of someone sticking around for a while. Inhale. Exhale. She looks at him again and nods her head. "Yeah. You're right. I'm exhausted. We're both exhausted. We'll likely hear it if something were to even try to get in." She pauses a beat as she gets to her feet. It's so nice to stand flat-footed. Maybe she can actually help him bar the door.
"We could move the desk or the cabinet in front of the door. Those... things probably aren't strong enough to push their way through something heavy." But that's just an assumption.
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Memories fade, a little more every day. His quest to save the world had given him direction, if not much motivation. Admiration of someone who seemed so utterly ordinary and yet somehow exceptional (perhaps the two were not mutually exclusive, he pondered), was changing his mind little by little.
"The things out there... it sounds strange to say it, but they're not as dangerous as they look." He glances at his bandaged injury, in a way that implies he knows the irony of saying it. But a normal dog could have done that! The things in the hospital were a bit more worrying. Rex had probably not given it as much thought as Lisa, but he was wondering himself how and why she was different to the rest of the staff. Had they ever been human? Were they twisted imitations? Or transformed unfortunates? Unlike Harry, who had a clear goal to achieve to distract him, Rex's task was to dismantle the threat to the world itself. He needed to think of these things. Another reason he has to try and convince her to leave with him. Maybe he can finally do it now. "I can protect you."
A simple statement, in the same softly spoken deadpan as ever. But a firm conviction all the same.
With those words, he turns to assess the options for barring the door. Gets right on with business, like it doesn't matter a monstrous world awaits on the other side of the door. Ah-hah. The simplest solution may be the most effective. Taking the chair, he jams it under the handle with a little too much confidence for it to be his first time. Taking the time to places bottles and other items that would make quite a racket if they were dislodged on it too. "At the least, this will give me the time to arm myself."
Assuming the town doesn't pull one of its nastier tricks of rearranging things in ways that defy all logic. He doesn't plan to fall asleep, so he can wake up somewhere else and leave Lisa abandoned.
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... Nothing. Here she is, trapped in some nightmarish reality.
His words do bring her some comfort. He really is trying his hardest, isn't he? Even as scared as she is, she can't help but believe every word he says. "I know you could..." she replies in a much softer voice. She turns and goes to check the other door; she'd locked it earlier when Harry had passed out. "You make me feel safe just by being here." Which wasn't a lie. He was clearly very capable; but she couldn't leave. There was a pull. Intangible, but nevertheless, it was there. Not only that, but... she would hate to slow him down or endanger him in any way.
Shiver.
Pulling her sweater a little tighter around her, she goes to take a seat on one of the cots. Every now and then, she gets a chill on top of how cold she already feels. It's a sensation she can't quite shake. Or maybe it's just cold in the room. She can't really tell.
"Hopefully you won't have to. There never seems to be anything out that door. At least... not from when I've checked." She motions to the door Rex barred first and then the one closest to her. "And the door over here leads to another room before the hallway. It's locked."
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He's glad his back was to her when she told him she feels safe in his presence. The smile it gave him was unsightly, he was sure. It wasn't appropriate to be so happy at such simple words in such dire circumstances, was it? It fads quickly anyway, as he turns from setting up the chair.
"It will do. We can't expect perfection." Though he does spend a moment, hands on hips (normally they would be in his coat pockets, but it's still off for now) making a quick plan on how to deal with intrusion from either side or both at once. Just in case. During his assessment he spots the way she tries to fight off the chill and it's almost instinct the way he loops his huge, thick coat around her shoulders before he sits on another cot. Flopping onto his back with hands behind his head, not mentioning it. "For now, we can take a moment to recover. Order our thoughts."
A slight sideways glance from the corner of his eye, between black strands of hair drooping across him as he continues. "...Maybe just... talk a little."
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Soon, maybe. Just not now.
The warm coat around her shoulders definitely helps to some degree, though it didn't take her long to realize that this chill ran a lot deeper. But it was an improvement. The size and warmth of the coat was probably the closest she was going to get to someone holding her, childish as it felt. It wouldn't erase her fear and would probably just with her falling apart for just how terrified she was, but warmth and security was something she desperately wanted. Even for a just a moment.
She whispers a soft 'thank you' in response, tugging the coat a bit closer to her. At least he's actually lying down; he likely needs to rest far more than she does. "Sure. There's plenty to talk about, isn't there?" She shifts a bit, pulling her legs up onto the cot with her as she moves to lay down on her side. She probably won't sleep either. Who could sleep during a time like this?
"Is it not cold in here to you?" she asks, trying to confirm if what she's feeling is all in her head, and well... he did just give her his coat. She would feel bad if he was cold too.
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So he had to be a thousand more times prepared, if it meant keeping her safe.
"Back home in the mountains I need the coat. Here, it's just... habit." A safety blanket shared in spirit, though they could both probably fit in it if they tried. His all encompassing living shroud made him feel safe too. "I like the cold, anyway."
That was no attempt to keep her from returning the coat for his sake, but the honest truth. He preferred a chilled environment. It helped keep him awake, for a start. Like now, just laying back and letting muscles relax, letting his mind work through things the hard way rather than allowing dreams to work their magic.
"...There's a lot of power here. The town in general, but in the hospital especially." He refrains from explaining exactly he determines something like that. Some plain deduction, applying logic to the illogical. Some his prior experience with the occult, an earned instinct gained from practice. "Like gravity, pulling things in."
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But all of that is temporarily cast aside as she listens to him talk. Propping herself up on her elbow, her expression reflects her concern at his explanation. Could the town cult have something to do with this much darker world and the disappearance of just about everyone? The occult was definitely nothing to wave off as nothing, but... was that kind of black magic really capable of something this extreme? She didn't want to think so, but now it seems she has no choice but to believe it.
"A lot of power..." She echoes him, looking down at floor pensively for a moment and then looks at him again. "What have you found out?" She pauses a beat, another couple of questions popping up before she can even think to give him time to answer. "... Rex. Have you been through the hospital? Do you know what's in the basement?"
If not... maybe he could go with her? The staff were stricitly forbidden to enter the basement storeroom, but who was there to stop her? What if it meant figuring things out for herself and for the better? It was worth a shot.
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He takes a breath to tell her a fraction of what he has discovered, hopefully without revealing too great a deal of his own past, but finds her second set of questions easier to avoid divulging some less desirable aspects of his history. "I've not explored the entire building, no. It's difficult to traverse. Not entirely in terms of danger but there's... "He struggles for a moment to find the word before settling on- "...obstacles."
Puzzles and riddles, things that feel like they would make sense if only he could discover some crucial facts that were being kept from him. Harry's much more direct goal was ironically leading him to find out everything Rex needed to know, whilst Rex's search was learning little about the terrible events leading to the the town's current circumstances. Though Rex had been discovering the, for lack of a better word, mechanics of the mystical goings on.
"This town- or perhaps it would be more accurate to say this 'world', seems to be changing to match a... perception." It was difficult to explain or understand even to someone with a background in the occult. So simple approximations was the best he could manage. "Someone, something's thoughts and feelings. Overlapping the common reality, or maybe even creating a reality of their own. A tiny universe, with its own rules. And like our own, a centre, around which everything rotates."
He stares at the ceiling as he says it all, only listening intently. Afraid to meet her eye, in case saying it has given away that perhaps he too is something not a part of the ordinary world. By choice, in his case.
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"How terrible. Who's perception is this... dark? Who could dream this up? This doesn't even seem real, yet I know I'm awake."
She's quiet for a moment, eyebrows knitting together as she glances off to the side. What- How. Why was this happening? Why does she feel even colder now? Even with Rex there, she can't shake the feeling of impending doom. It feels like she's going insane, and maybe she is. But that wouldn't make much sense either. She was... alright, wasn't she? Everything was normal before she blacked out...
... Right?
"You think the hospital's in the center of this deranged world..." She sits up again. Lying still really wasn't doing her any favors right now, even as much as she wishes she could rest. As she pulls his jacket from around her shoulders, she stands up and then places it next to him on the cot. "I don't really understand any of this... But I trust that you do. You haven't given me a reason not to believe you." She pauses, biting her lower lip a she casts a brief glance back at the door behind her. "Whatever is in the basement, I need to know what it is. Maybe it's part of that pull you described, but I think I need to see it for myself."
Hopefully there wasn't a dire reason he didn't answer her last questions, because she was pretty determined to find out one way or another. Maybe she should have been concerned over how he gathered this information himself, but she's clearly too preoccupied with other things to give it a second thought. That and she trusts him; blindly and fully. Foolish, perhaps, but in a desperate time, he's been someone she could depend on.
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Thoughts like perhaps her compulsion was a hint to something worse, something that he didn't want to contemplate. Something that made some semblance of sense, as much as anything could in such an illogical world. Her question, asking whose perception could be so dark, made little sense to him. He knew intimately that to some people? Hell was the world. It was a simple statement, but it reaffirmed to him she needed to be kept safe.
So he spends a moment staring at the ceiling, listening to her movement and words. With only his peripheral vision, he found her hand and took it, a soft squeeze. "We both need to know. And I'll take you there. And we will come back."
Her trust in him is a precious commodity, something he can't bear to lose. And won't, he tells himself. "But... let's stay here for a little longer. Just a moment."
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Her hand lingers in his for a moment before she slowly pulls it away and moves to sit on the edge of the other cot again. She wants to pace, but how crazy would that make her look? She can pretend that she's at least holding herself together. She can make herself relax; try to will away the waves of fear that are absolutely eating away at her composure. She can't remember a single time in her life that she has ever been this terrified.
Inhale. Exhale. It's going to be alright. Everything will be fine. She is grateful that Rex will accompany her to the basement; at least she wouldn't have to go at it alone. If he hasn't been down there either, maybe they will both find the answers they need. Reluctantly, she moves to lie down again, curling up on her side and resting her head against her arm. Breathe. Relax. If for nothing more, then for Rex's sake.
"... Where are you from, Rex? Not from Silent Hill, I guess? I feel like I would have met you a long time ago if that were the case." Change of subject. They could talk about other things, right? Maybe slightly more pleasant things. "It's a shame, really. I would have loved to have met you outside of this... world. We could be talking over coffee... or taking a walk down by the resort. Toluca Lake is beautiful this time of year."
Wishful thinking. It's an adequate coping mechanism for now.
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But he swallows that idea. He's in the game, which means it's victory or death and he refuses to die. Not after his mother, idolised hero she is to him, gave up her life for his. He can't let that be worth nothing, yet he also can't let Lisa down. He doesn't sit up, but does roll over so she can see how calm he appears. As solid as a rock. The wait isn't for him, his stoic expression says. It's for her. Another gear in those intricate plans he always had.
Unspoken lies, but image is as important as reality when it comes to his brand of trickery.
"Not even America. Bulgaria." The accent was suppressed usually, Rex doing his best to produce a neutral voice at most times, especially with his softly spoken manner. But as he continues, he lets the natural lilt out. A slight lift to his tone at the end of every sentence, speaking a little faster. "I came a long way to get here. But like you say, I took a wrong turn and missed all the best tourist spots."
His dry humour came with no other indicator of mood. Another way to show the absence of stress in him, even as it boiled like hot tar in his chest. "When we're done, I will take you somewhere that is beautiful also. You deserve it, I think."
And a promise, a certain future spoken as casual as if their success, their survival was guaranteed. Lots of little lies. None obvious, all designed to make him seem all the more confident and reliable. Things would at the least be easier if she felt safer.
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It did, indeed, make her feel better. Even his dry humor, manages to get a small laugh out of her.
"I don't know if I deserve it, but I wouldn't object." Surviving this world and moving on to live and possibly... start over? It isn't an unpleasant thought. Maybe she wouldn't even be a nurse anymore. It's such a tiresome job. She could do something else. Something simple.
"Bulgaria, huh? You really are a long way from home... What brought you here? I can't imagine that a small town like this would be so widely known. Even as a tourist location." Not to mention that up until... however long it's been; hours or days, perhaps? It had been a normal town. Nothing special really; the crazy cult aside. But even then, they kept to themselves.
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A sliver of hope, even if built on a falsehood, was all the same a rope he could cling to. Even if it wasn't his hope. He could keep his head above the water by convincing Lisa he could walk on waves. A laugh, here in the darkness? Pure gold.
"In truth... I too was drawn here. By a mystic force without any malevolence." No more hiding the whole truth. A piece here and there, small steps together. The more trust they shared, the more information he would. "Not by the 'gravity', but because I was told there was a place and people that needed my help."
He clasps a hand around the chest pocket on his long sleeved tee, squeezing in just the right way to undo a pin on an item of jewellery hidden within. Extracting it carefully, like one might picture a historian handling an ancient historic document. A simple, red half-sphere with a golden back and trim around the edge, a pair of golden wings on each side. In the palm of his hand.
The item in his hand, aside from the way he held it, looked utterly mundane. No aura of magnificence or glow of power. Yet it was quite possibly the reason he not an insane killer and definitely the reason he was here. Helping her. "What was I going to do? Say no?"
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Okay, wait. What?
"... You were drawn here? By that?" Normally, she wouldn't have believed in stuff like magic or the occult. Not completely, anyway. She knew of their existence and very little more. They were just an eccentric bunch who did some extremely dark, sketchy and questionable things. The magic wasn't real. It couldn't have been. Now? When her entire world has faded into darkness, she really can't help but question everything she once new.
If Rex said that he was 'drawn here by a mystic force,' hard as it was for her to grasp, she would have to believe him. He wouldn't lie to her, would he?
"I... uh. No? I mean, I guess you could have said no." She pauses, propping her head against her hand. Huh. Fear and confusion were becoming too familiar. She doesn't even know where to begin. In the midst of it all, a small part of her really can't help but admire him for being bold enough to travel to another country to help people in need. That's an insane amount of conviction. However, her confusion outweighs that for the moment. "I'm sorry. You lost me. I... really don't understand."
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"Yes. This is the Hero Medal. According to legend it emerges when mankind is in danger and guides someone suitable to protect it." A simple explanation for something so enormous if true, but there's a little more feeling in his tone than usual. Despite himself, despite his glum outlook he can't help but believe, even if knows happy endings don't come easy. That maybe these problem doesn't need a grand, valiant knight but someone just as twisted as the force that needed to be fought. If that's what it needed, well. Here he was. "So... I don't think I could have said no. I think that someone needs me is reason enough to cross half the world."
He's surprised how much he means that, rather than it just being words. Maybe if he had said them before meeting her, it would be a lie. He doesn't know anymore.
"I know it's all ridiculous. So is this entire situation." He rolls over to meet her eye directly and there's a hint of a determined smile. "You can think of the medal as the opposite of the magic here. This place has made a person's inner darkness into a place we can walk. The medal helps people find the light inside of themselves."
How much of that he believed was debatable. But the smile wasn't because he thought holding the medal made him special. It was because it made him something at all. "I'm sorry I can't explain it properly. But then, I am sure if you were to tell me something of being a nurse, I would not understand either."
He holds up his bandaged arm, the smile still there.
"But I hope you can trust me to do the job as well as I trust you to do do yours."
orz Pfffft. So cheesy.
That trust had been established a long while ago.
"Ridiculous is one word for it. If you had told me this a few days ago, I probably wouldn't have believed you. These kind of things just... didn't happen. It almost sounds like something out of an old epic tale or a fantasy novel." Which she feels that she's read more than her fair share of for one reason or another. She can't remember. "Whether you could or couldn't have said no, I'm grateful that you're here. That's... a big commitment, isn't it? This place is horrifying."
And she doesn't even know the half of it. Nor does she want to, but she knows she'll have to get a bigger glimpse in order to get to the basement. She wants to think that the situation can't get much worse, but the fact that someone as capable of Rex coming back with an injury makes her think otherwise. At least it hadn't been serious; an easy fix, really. A smile from him is really nice to see and she can't help but smile back.
"I do trust you, Rex." Staying where she is, she reaches one hand toward him. He's kept her from completely losing her mind when she's been so deathly afraid to be alone. Not one part of her feels the need to understand completely. She just trusts him. Again, it's probably foolish. Lisa could be very naive in some respects. But everyone needs something or someone to cling to in a situation that appears hopeless.
"You have been a light in this darkness." She lays her head back down against her arm, smiling fondly at him. "... For me, at least."
You say that like it's not brilliant for it.
He doesn't actually care.
He just puts the medal and his trick away in his pocket before reaching out to her waiting hand. Just fingers atop hers, allowing her to choose if they were meant to hold together and how tight if so. He takes her words just as simply, only reply in nods and an affirmative 'mm' to some of it. But when she says the very last of it, that flush so rare flush comes to his cheeks again, though this time without the embarrassed look of before. His smile grows instead, though it's no grin. He muscle needed for that might well be atrophied.
"...At least I'm on the right path, then." As wonderful as a moment he felt it was, he felt the momentum needed to be carried. "We can go whenever you're ready."
Maybe. A little. SIGH. You are tearing me apart, Lisa!
Precious boy. His small smile is honestly adorable to her because it seems so genuine. And for all she knows, he blushes easily. It's sweet. She takes a light hold of his hand, giving it a squeeze before slowly releasing it to sit up. A good bit of fear has subsided thanks to him and she's determined to get through this.
Go now. Or go never.
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she answers, getting up from the cot. Deep breath in and out. Okay. This is fine. They'll both be fine. "I don't know what we're looking for, exactly. Harry said that there was something weird in the basement, though he didn't ever get a chance to elaborate. The storeroom was the only room down there that was off limits to all staff, and I'm nearly positive that's where it would be."
She could silently pray they didn't have to check the morgue. She didn't want to find out what this twisted world did to that cold, dark room. It was unsettling enough as it was.
You beat me to it on that one.
He stands, taking a moment to do a quick inventory of his equipment. Knife, spare knife, spare spare knife, gun, spare gun, hammer, extra spare knife... Magical supplies, what little he had. He tended to make due with little material aspects to his magic. The ethereal power came from him, not tools or borrowed from gods or devils. Sweeping his coat back on, zipping it all the way to his chin, his neck flexed slightly as he worked out tension.
"Something is at least a lead," he tells her as he yanks the chair out from under the door handle. His accent, let off its leash for a while is once again gone. He's not sure why. Maybe it's a psychological trigger for him, that his real voice only emerges when he's relaxed. When he's Rex Arany, teenager wit troubles, not the warrior he has to be. Chooses to be. "And places are only ever off limits for a reason. It sounds like the place to go."
After a moment's debate, he offers her one of his knives. Sheathed and well cared for, medium length. "Enough to keep things at arm's length long enough for me to keep you safe."
x3 That movie is both trash and a national treasure.
She doesn't hesitate to reach out and take the knife when he offers it. It's something and far be it from her to deny a weapon to defend herself with. Especially when that overall feeling of impending doom is still lingering in the back of her head. Something doesn't feel right. Though when the world turns to hell, how is one supposed to feel? That's all she can chalk it up to for now.
A weapon is nice, though. She holds it close to her chest with both hands; one on the sheath and one on the hilt.
"Thank you. I'll be careful." Because she would never forgive herself if he got hurt trying to protect her. Harry had been down there and he came out alright. Hopefully they would too. "Let's both come back safe."
Which nation is the question.
He just nods at first, before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway, glancing left and right before twitching a hand to invite her along. He settled into being a half-step in front of her, so she could lead the way without actually being in front of him. He needed her to guide him there, but he was the shield.
After a moment of silence, he decided to throw her something to keep her mind active, not imagining what they could possibly be walking into. That was his job.
"When we leave, what do you want to do first?" Even as he asked, he kept vigilant, turning his head ever so slightly this way and that every few seconds. Listening and looking, slow breaths. Aware of his surroundings in a total way. "If you could do anything at all?"
Or maybe planet. Solar system. He can't be from the world.
But then, remembering what Rex had said earlier, it wasn't really the same hospital, was it?
She spares Rex a passing glance as she steps toward the double doors. At least nothing appears to be lurking out in this immediate hallway. Thank goodness. So far, so good. She takes a moment to breathe, lowering the knife down to her side.
"Actually... I've wanted to leave for years. So, if I could leave, I would want to get as far away from Silent Hill as I possibly can and start over."
It's the truth; even if she feels that she can't leave. She knows how difficult it would be just fighting her drug addiction. But that wasn't all. That wasn't even scratching the surface of what she would have to face. A very small part of her knows that; it's terrifying. If only she could remember just how far gone she was...
Rex Arany | OC
Kyoko Sakura | Madoka Magica | f/f
carrie white ; carrie ; ota