(no subject)

[negative_feedback]

dated: Oct 5/6

It's been over a week, and nothing has happened. Nothing bad, anyway. Her family is getting used to the idea of her strange, uninvited friends crashing with them. So far, everyone's followed the rules, and most of the people who'd followed her here have enough of a grasp on Sign Language to hold and follow silent conversations.


And thanks to her mom, Regan's able to keep people somewhat entertained with board games that won't make a racket.


But it's still weird. Regan still doesn't know how she's here, or how all of her friends are here, too. She's come home, but she remembers Darrow. She didn't think that was supposed to be possible.


And yet here she is, standing off to the side while she watches all of these people that she's grown to love and care for, trying to adapt to this new, silent life. How long will they be here for? Is this forever?


It's time to get more fish, because the incredible excess of mouths to feed means they're going through their food much faster. Some of the people who'd come along are more than capable of fending for themselves, so Dad organizes them into groups, with whoever he decides is trustworthy and smart enough to keep people safe and quiet to lead each one. Regan can tell Marcus is relieved he doesn't have to go.


But she still wants to. There are enough people that she allows herself to get easily lost into one of the groups, and they make their ways out, each going in different directions. It's just smarter that way. The fewer people going through the same sandy path, the less likely they'll be to make a fatal mistake.


At least, that's the plan.


It's nice to get out of the yard for awhile, anyway. Some people have stayed behind to help Mom and Marcus get more sleeping areas set up. If they start to think this is permanent, then they'll probably have to find a way to house everyone. They can't all cramp into one space. That's a surefire way to get killed. But for now, spreading out beds is a good move. People need their privacy, and their space.


She doesn't know how it happens. She doesn't know the cause. But suddenly, people are trying to scatter, trying to hide.


And there's a creature. They move so fast, it's easy to overlook them, but she sees it. She'd recognize those movements anywhere, she thinks. And her body responds in instinct, hands clamping over her mouth and staying stockstill.


[ Another gathering! As before, jump in at any point in the post that you want to. Be one of the hunting/foraging parties that gets attacked by one of the creatures, or stay at home and maybe have an encounter of your own! Tag each other, tag around, utilize the NPC Abbott family as needed. Whichever group you want Regan to be apart of, she will be, because Darrow is MAGIC and reality is what we make of it XD be the reason the creature hears your group, or be part of a group completely unscathed and just have a nice little vacation trip to the waterfall! As before, any questions you have can be directed here, and I'll do my best to answer them! ]

Comments

[loficharm]

The longer this goes on, the harder it gets.

Well, that isn't strictly true; certain things get easier. Regan's family is... plainly overwhelmed by the sudden influx of inexplicable strangers, but they are kind and they are determined, and they are very, very good at surviving in this unfriendly place. Lee is able to fill him in on the situation of it all, and Evelyn - Christ, she really does look exactly like Greta - is incredibly patient with him, giving him a crash course in American Sign Language as well as guiding him in the day-to-day. The quiet is comforting, after a fashion, though he's never able to forget why it's necessary.

But all that - the adapting, the constant awareness of nearby danger - that isn't what makes it hard. It's that the more he settles into it, the longer it becomes normal to wake up here, to keep silent, to help Evelyn with food preparation, the more dread sets into his heart that this is it. Darrow sent him somewhere - not just him, but a lot of them, like it meant to send Regan home but coughed up a whole handful of others along with her. Just as he'd started to get settled, to tentatively grow used to it. And as everyone is rounded up and brought together, it becomes unavoidable to recognize that among that handful, John is not. Or if he was brought here, he is on his own somewhere, or likely dead.

He tries very hard not to think about it. That had been getting easier back home, and now he has to relearn all over again, for reasons much more arbitrary. It is maddening.

"Why the long face?" Evelyn signs, slowly so he'll have a better chance to parse it. They've been standing in the kitchen together, quietly preparing some dinner; he hadn't realized he'd been moping so obviously. He hesitates a moment as he pieces her question together, then smiles faintly.

"I miss..." he signs a bit awkwardly - he knows he's doing the words in the wrong order, spoken order, but he hasn't had time to learn the proper grammar of it yet - "home."

That isn't quite true. It isn't home he misses. Not his proper home, and not Darrow. But he doesn't know how to sign the full truth of it, and he doesn't want to get into it now.

"I understand." She smiles and nudges his arm. They've hit it off quite well, which is a small comfort. She looks over their half-prepared food, then back at him. "I've got this," she signs. "Do you want a better distraction?"

She ends up having to spell both 'better' and 'distraction' for him - he's managed to memorize the alphabet, at least - but once he understands, he nods in passive agreement. It certainly can't hurt.


[Two options: Martin can keep people company around the house (open to everyone), or he can venture outside with Regan and her brother, which will lead to his inevitable monster death :D If your pup is hangin around the house and wants to chill with a sweet boy, come get it!]

[negative_feedback]

Marcus is small, and every movement he makes is quick and afraid, like a bird. Sometimes being near him makes Regan so tired. He must be exhausted, all the time, to be so high strung. She hadn't really noticed it until she'd come back here.

When Martin comes outside to sit with him, he smiles wanly up at him. Regan is just a dozen or so feet away, pulling sheets off the line to fold. There's a lot more laundry to do, too, so she's trying to help out a lot more. She brings the basket of sheets over to them and gestures for each of them to grab one to start folding.

[loficharm]

Martin rather likes Marcus; there's something very familiar about the boy, his evident nervousness, his perpetual tension. Martin imagines himself at that age, imagines he'd behave in much the same way, bowed under the weight of that quiet, constant stress. It's hard not to feel protective of him. It's strange, realizing he's the grownup here, that children automatically assume him to be a bit more pulled together. Martin knows better, that he's a barely contained amalgamation of doubts and fears, that he is nothing like Evelyn and Lee, or Greta for that matter. He doubts Regan has any illusions about his relative aptitude for survival in this place; hopes, really. Better to be seen for what he is.

But it's nice, too, to help Marcus even if it's by the placebo effect. Martin isn't a parent, but he's still an adult, and there's a tiny adjustment in the boy's posture when he sits down, like he's relaxing by the smallest degrees.

When Regan offers him something more concrete to do than be a vaguely reassuring presence, Martin is glad for it. He rather likes folding laundry, finds it soothing. Marcus, by contrast, heaves a noiseless sighs, like a reluctant shrug, when presented with the chore. Martin gives him a friendly nudge and gets to work, encouraging him to do the same.

[negative_feedback]

Marcus smiles up at him, and Regan feels a twang of fondness that she'll probably deny if asked about. She shakes her head and grabs a handful of pillowcases to fold them, instead of trying to wrestle with a giant flat sheet, or even the fitted ones, with their stupid elastics that never fold right. She leaves that bit to her brother and Martin.

It's weird. She has no idea who this guy is, or why he'd follow her from Darrow to here. But he's a nice guy, kind of cute in a soft sort of way. And he knows Greta, which is a point in his favor. Greta doesn't like people who are assholes, she's learned.

[loficharm]

Martin takes it upon himself to wrangle the fitted sheet, looking up at Regan idly at she works on the pillowcases. Once he catches her eye, he signs a bit awkwardly, "You okay?"

He hopes that his face and his general manner communicate what would have been the underlying tone of the question if he could ask it aloud: that he knows she's not okay, how could she be; that he wonders more if there's anything she should like to talk about. A bit of a difficult ask in front of her little brother, he's sure, but it's hard to get people alone here, and he knows Regan is fairly alone in the current situation - the only person tied between two places that have been so unceremoniously brought together.

[negative_feedback]

She offers a shrug, and a wan smile, when she bobs her fist. She's about as okay as she can be, she supposes. This whole situation is still weird, but they're adapting, and for right now, that's something she can be grateful for.

"You?" she asks. It's weird for her, sure, but it has to be weirder for him. They'd never met before he woke up here. This has to be weird and terrifying for him, and he's handling it pretty well.

[eddie_spaghetti]

It was restlessness that sent him out on the supply run, despite his near overwhelming terror at fucking things up and getting everyone killed. Anxiety was a pretty great motivator, apparently. So much so that Regan's dad seemed to mistake his meticulous, obsessive carefulness for competency.

He didn't know how to fish, but he could gather, and they'd been shown different plants to keep a look out for. They were all quiet, picking their way carefully along the sandy paths laid out through the forest. So quiet that, when people started to scatter, the rustle of footsteps and disturbed leaves was cacophonous. Panic gripped his chest and he grabbed the wrist of whomever was closest on instinct, pressing a finger to his lips and standing stock still.

For once, his habit of freezing like a terrified rabbit worked in his favor. The creature— God, it was ugly. A reflexive gag worked its way up into his throat as it skittered past, his eyes watering in his effort to stifle it. It disappeared into the leaves, barely making a sound itself, it's footsteps impossibly light for something so large.

A tear rolled over Eddie cheek. He didn't know how long he stood there, too scared to move even enough to find out whose wrist he clung to tightly enough to bruise. When he finally did move, it was with a silently shuddering breath, his shoulders hitching quietly, his fingers aching as he loosened their death grip.

[lost_boy]

In the seconds before Eddie's fingers closed down around my wrist, I was aware something had changed. My head was lifted and I had paused, trying to pinpoint what was happening just before Eddie grabbed me and pressed a finger to his lips. I nodded, just once, staring at him with my eyes wide, because I knew what was happening. I suddenly just knew.

As long as we were quiet, we would be okay. We had to be. Nothing could happen to us here.

A fine tremble went through me as the creature passed us by. It wasn't in my nature to just stand quietly by and do nothing, but I reminded myself this wasn't the same as the island. These creatures weren't going to be as easily killed as a pirate and I had to think of them the way I used to think of the Many-Eyed. They were to be avoided at all costs and silence was the only way to do that, so I stood there. I just stood there. I looked at Eddie instead of the creature and when it was gone, slipping quietly into the trees, I reached out with a trembling hand and brushed the tear from his cheek.

Then I blinked and the tears I hadn't realized I was holding back began to slide down my cheeks.

[eddie_spaghetti]

Eddie shook his head frantically as Jamie began to move, sure that it would hear them both, even though it was gone.

He didn't trust it. What if it heard? Why were they even out there in this place, when there was something so dangerous and scary lurking around? What kind of idiot was he, thinking it would be fun to go on an adventure in the woods with his friends?

He let out a tiny hiccup of a sound, but despite the terror gripping his throat, the sound was quickly swallowed up the soft flutter of the breeze. They weren't safe, but they weren't going to die. Not then. Not yet.

Wobbling on his feet, Eddie stepped forward, his forehead dropping to Jamie's shoulder as he practically collapsed against his chest.

[lost_boy]

I wanted to comfort Eddie properly, I wanted to tell him we would be okay, that we would keep each other safe like we had been doing practically since we met, but I knew better than to say anything. So I just wrapped my arms around his body and held him close against me, feeling at my heart beat began to slow.

I didn't know what we were going to do here. This wasn't our world, it wasn't our home. How could we be expected to live here forever? As I held onto Eddie all my worst fears ran through my head, all the things I never let myself speak.

I didn't want to live here.

When I pulled back slightly, I wiped my face, then nodded back in the direction of where Regan's family lived. With one hand, I mimed walking, a questioning look on my face.

[daughterofawolf]

Eponine's mostly been going to the river, with Regan's father, a strange sort of dynamic when Regan herself largely isn't asked on those runs. But she knows how to fish with a hand line anyway, and how to flay a fish with brutal efficiency, and she thinks her ease with hunting and gathering and lack of disgust with it has earned her a -- possibly confused -- sort of respect.

She's still a little uncomfortable with it, though, and she's opted to go with them picking out the ripening fruits and berries, herbs that can be used for medicine and such.

Eponine'd been bent to gather blackberries, ignoring the sting of their sharp leaves as she plucks at them. There were more than a few berry bushes in the gardens of Paris that she'd snacked on when she lived there, and it's an easy task to get lost in without making noise.

So when something comes crashing through the underbrush, she just about has a heart attack, jumping upright and then freezing as her eyes go wide. The creature is like nothing she had even quite imagined in Regan's explanations. Eddie grabs for her -- something she wasn't expecting at all, though she's sure it's just that she's the nearest person. His fingers wrap around her wrist so hard it hurts.

Eponine turns her hand over to hold his hand sideways, trying to slow her breaths, trying to will Eddie's own slower, her mind pulling her away as though she's watching them from a long distance away.

It's much harder, as it turns out, to confront danger when it's not just you that might get hurt if you fight it. At home Eponine'd have laughed, dared it to kill her when she didn't even care if she lived one day to the next, run at it with her knife. She's dead at home and on borrowed time: what does it matter? But it does, a little. And more importantly, she isn't going to charge it when she's coming from Eddie's direction.

Slowly, it disappears further into the underbrush and she takes a breath, lifting her hand to Eddie's shoulder. "Ok?" she signs, even though nothing about this is okay.

[eddie_spaghetti]

Okay?

Was he okay? Fuck no, he wasn't okay. Staring at her with wide eyes, Eddie shrugged helplessly, his breath coming in short, desperate pants through his nose.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing his heart to slow down. The last thing he needed to do was pass out, not only causing a scene but putting them all in danger.

Finally, he opened his eyes and nodded, prying his fingers away from her wrist with an apologetic wince.

[daughterofawolf]

She makes a sort of well, fair face and nods. There's not much she can ask, really, that's anything like reasonable, for none of this place is reasonable. None of them are all right. But they're both still in one piece.

He walks himself down from the panic she can almost feel, she understands it so well, and she listens, meanwhile, for the creature. She still hears rustles further away, but it seems, at least, to be getting further.

When he lets go of her wrist, she stretches her fingers, with the barest curl of a smirk. "Good grip," she signs, mouthing it too as she normally does when she speaks in sign language.

She points back toward the path, then between them, but frowns.

"The others. They're back that way?"

[eddie_spaghetti]

Eddie nodded, twisting carefully, his footsteps as silent as he could manage as he stretched up, trying to catch sight of them through the underbrush. He saw a flash of red in the leaves and pointed.

"We should head back?" He asked her, looking unsure. They hadn't finished everything they'd been tasked to do, but all he wanted was to gather their friends and make their way back to the farm.

[daughterofawolf]

Eponine tilts a little, trying to see, and spots the flash of color Eddie's pointing out. She lets out a sigh of relief very slowly, closing her eyes for a moment to calm herself.

There's a question to that sign in his face, and she presses her lips together, considering. It's strange, making possibly life-or-death decisions for someone who isn't just herself. They've dropped a good two handfuls of berries, and they'll be coming home without everything, but everything in her is saying that they're prey. She doesn't know if these creatures just tramp blindly around until they hear something, or if they sit back and wait at times.

And if they do...

After a moment she nods. "Let's get to them, then we all go straight back. Slow and careful." It might be a little more quiet to go separately, but she can't imagine not knowing where everyone is, right now.

[the_trashmouth]

Richie mostly goes out for supplies because Regan and Eddie and Jamie are going. Even though he knows it's not any safer inside than it is outside, it feels like it. When there are walls all around them, it's almost easy to forget what's out there, just waiting for them to make a sound. But the idea of being inside without his friends— even if Regan's mom is still around— is too much to think about.

Fuck.

But it's all going pretty okay, at least at first. He's helping gather plants as they walk, and he's found a new way to do his Voices to try and lighten the mood as they work. Deep, over-exaggerated bows for the English Butler. A wide stance, hands on his hips for Foghorn Leghorn. An invisible hat to tip and night stick to twirl for the Irish Cop. This whole thing still sucks, but maybe it can suck a little less now.

He thinks that, until the creature shows up. He's not supposed to move, they're supposed to be so quiet. But Richie doesn't know how the fuck he can just stand there, knowing it's there. Richie clamps both hands over his mouth to try and quiet his panicked breathing, trying to meet one of his friends' eyes so he can figure out what the fuck he's supposed to do now.

[eddie_spaghetti]

It happened so quickly, Eddie's body reacted before his brain could catch up. He stood, frozen a few yards away from Richie, his blood rushing loudly in his ears. Their eyes met, Richie's magnified behind his glasses, and he was so scared. They were both so scared, and Eddie felt like he was drowning.

It was weird, when the memories of Neibolt would come to him, fragments flashing through his mind vividly enough that he swore he could smell the sick rot of the place. He remembered pain, and Richie's face so close to his, clammy hands gripping Eddie's cheeks. Look at me!

"Stay there," Eddie mouthed, his hands held up like he might be able to keep Richie very still and very quiet by sheer force of will.

[the_trashmouth]

Regan had explained the creatures to them all the first day they'd arrived. Don't move. Don't talk. Stay as still as you can. If there's a louder noise, they'll go after that instead of going after you. There are a lot of rules, and even though it's pretty easy to keep them straight, it's harder when there's something there... something listening for you. Something that wants to hurt you and your friends.

His hands are clamped over his mouth and his eyes wide as he looks over at Eddie, who's mouthing something and holding up his hand. Ordinarily, he'd be trying to figure out what the fuck his friend is trying to say, but it's hard to concentrate on that when there's a giant fucking thing approaching behind Eddie, opening its giant ear to listen.

[eddie_spaghetti]

Richie wasn't looking at him.

Eddie had a full five seconds to be annoyed, his hands balling up into indignant fists, before he realized that Richie was looking behind him.

He froze, trembling, his mouth agape. Behind him, he heard a soft rustle beneath the drum beat of his heart, which felt like it was about to burst right out of his chest. Nostrils flaring, Eddie took tiny, sharp breaths, his mouth turned down into an exaggerated frown as he shook his head minutely.

No, no, no... Go away!

[the_trashmouth]

Richie's heart is beating in his ears and he's trying to keep his breath quiet, but it's easier said than done. He starts shaking without realizing and he feels like he's going to throw up.

It's going to get Eddie.

Richie's shakes his head no, once, twice, and realizes he can't stop shaking it. He can't remember the details, but the feeling of dread reminds him of Neibolt. This is something else, something just as fucked up, but all he can think of is that first time they went in, and how it felt.

The creature moves like something unnatural behind Eddie, inching closer as he shakes his head.

Richie can't let his happen. He has to do something, anything, but he doesn't know what.

[lost_boy]

Never before since my arrival in Darrow had I wanted my knife as badly as I did now.

I knew it was foolish, I couldn't very well do anything with it. Not with these creatures. But there was a creature, it was right there, and it was too close to Richie. Too close to all of us, really, and I couldn't do a damn thing except stand utterly still and hope it would leave. I glanced up and caught Richie's eyes, saw his hands clamped tight over his mouth, and I lifted both my hands and held them out toward Richie, my palms facing him.

Don't move.

I knew he knew the rules. We all did. But I also knew it was very different trying to follow the rules in a moment like this, when everything suddenly became very real.

[the_trashmouth]

Richie's going to be sick.

Somewhere rustling nearby, there's a fucking monster. One like Regan warned them about when they first showed up. All Richie wants to do is cry out, but he knows that's the last thing he's supposed to do. Yell and you die. Make a sound even as quiet as a whisper ad you die. This is so fucked up.

Richie's frozen to the spot as he looks over at Jamie holding his hands out, and he takes his own down to ask a question, only just managing to slow down his breathing.

"Where?" Richie signs slowly, glad that's one he knows.

[lost_boy]

My gaze flicked away, up and over Richie's shoulder, tracking the slow movement through the trees. A part of me was afraid to tell him, worried he might make some kind of noise in his panic, but I knew it would be better than to keep him entirely in the dark.

If he knew it was serious, he could focus on being quiet.

"Behind you," I signed back, making the movements slow and clear. "Stay still. Moving. Gone soon."

I had to believe that. I had to believe if we just stood here and didn't make a sound, it would go without hurting either of us. It couldn't hurt us. I couldn't let it hurt Richie.

[the_trashmouth]

"F--" Richie starts to say, quietly, a brief sound that travels no farther than his own ears, but stops himself, covering his mouth with both hands. Behind him, he hears a rustling in the brush that hurries toward him instead of moving away again.

Shit shit shit.

Richie is frozen on the spot, and he doesn't dare move, doesn't dare breathe as he hears it stalking ever closer. The creature is only a few feet away when it suddenly turns, seemingly satisfied at the silence, as begins heading in the other direction again.

[daughterofawolf]

She thought she'd feel a bit a spare wheel, with Eddie and Jamie and Regan and Richie all going out for supplies, but as it turns out they all tend to take different routes at any rate. It's safer that way, in pairs or threes but not all at once.

Eponine'd managed to impress, she thinks, Regan's father a bit when it turned out she knew a bit about herbs and edible plants and was a good hand at skinning a fish. One of the few things that pays off, really, about coming from another time altogether. Even before she'd lived on the street, she'd watched her mother in the kitchen of their inn, making short work of meat, fish and poultry.

Today she's getting plants, and Richie's imitations -- and how recognizable they are of the voices he does -- are coming very close to making her laugh out loud. She's about to faux-scold him about it when she glances at him from where she'd reached to pull an apple down from a tree and sees his panicked face.

She drops her eyes to the ground to where the shadow of something entirely inhuman crosses her path, and swallows, holding herself completely still. Her heart is pounding in her ears. She doesn't believe in God, but she finds herself lifting her hand to the cross she got from Marcus anyway, just for something to grip.

She meets Richie's eyes, holding up a finger and pointing to the apple her hand's still resting on. If she can wiggle it free, maybe she can throw it.