ph_logs | May Event - All Too Familiar

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May Event - All Too Familiar

Content Warnings: Walking dead, character deaths, potential for gore | Special Thanks to Meghan and Kalineh

It was a fine spring day when mysterious letters began cropping up all over Pumpkin Hollow. Letters whose apparent senders do not remember writing them, whose recipients or discoverers were harmed by reading them. Eventually these mysteries, though still unsolved, come to a quiet halt as stealthily as they began, but not before a mail carrier in a cowboy hat trots out to Elsie’s tree with a letter in hand, unmarked aside from being addressed to her.

She gleefully rips open that letter, hoping it's another message from her father. It isn't and, at first, she's crushed. But only until she starts to actually read it.

Elsie,

River la Croix has been hiding something in her forge for a while now. It is called the Book of the Dead. In its pages are hundreds of spells from across time and space with the power to give life to those no longer with us.

Your father is doing his best to revive your mother. But this island’s barrier is blocking his will, resisting his magic. I can no longer watch you suffer in solitude when a solution exists. All you have to do is decipher the text, and its powers are yours. Your mother will be returned to you.

River does not want to part with it. She will become suspicious of you if you ask, and it will become harder to acquire it. You will have to take it without her notice by levitating it out of her forge. She, like many others, is fearful of the Book’s power. This fear isn’t entirely unwarranted for them, but for you, your connection to the Feywilds’ magic will be enough to grant you access to that otherworldly power.

Good luck, and all my love to your dear mother when she returns.

Fond regards,
A friend

Could this be it? Could this be the miracle she's been waiting for? Hope swells painfully in her chest as she clutches the note close. She mustn't celebrate too early. She still needs to get the book. At least her mysterious friend has already told her where to find it. Her jaw sets in a look of determination, and she speeds away into the dusk.

It doesn't take long to reach the forge. River has defended it well, but Elsie slips into her own shadow and sneaks beneath the door without so much as a whisper of sound. Only her hand extends from the puddle of shadow on the floor inside, like a disembodied arm hovering before the flames. Mustering her will, she reaches out to the ancient book and commands the winds to lift it. Sweat beads her shadowy brow while she concentrates, the flames flicker and dance around the slowly levitating book. Just a little more, a little more… There!

It's heavy in her hand, and remarkably cool to the touch despite having been pulled from the fire. She retracts her arm and the book back into her shadow and slips out the way she came. Her heart thumps in her chest as she races back to the safety of her tree. To her mother, who will soon be able to wrap flesh and blood arms around her like she once did. All that's left now is to read. Her friends have been teaching her how. Her mother will be so proud of her.

Carefully now, she opens the book, feeling her skin crawl as a sudden unease grips her very core. No, she will not be deterred. The language is unlike any she's ever seen. The letters, if indeed they can be called that, feel jagged and painful to her mind. Still, she will Not Give Up. She screws her eyes shut, thinks of her mother, and holds tight to her desperate hope to be reunited.

When her eyes reopen to behold the page before her, understanding strikes like lightning. Suddenly, she knows she can speak the words. As they escape her mouth, an unknown magic swells into the space around her, then beyond her. The ground shakes. The air turns foul. And as the trinkets in Elsie’s tree chime together in the unsettling breeze, ringing out with notes more sour than usual, it quickly becomes clear that the advice she received was not from any friend.

The forms of people begin to pry themselves loose from the ground all over town, as if emerging from water, leaving the ground unbroken as they lift themselves out of the ground. They bear horrid injuries, shambling along grotesquely, telling a story of death. However, these are not skeletons from the graveyard, housing the souls of long-dead locals. These are things of flesh and blood, however exposed they might be, wearing newer faces.

Much newer.

Since the barrier went up, many people have died, only to have their bodies vanish and replaced by a new one. Those bodies now walk the town, seeking to unleash a wrath brought on by the corrupted magic of the Necronomicon. Anyone who has died inside the barrier will have a violent, undead copy of themself representing each death wandering the island looking to increase their ranks. Which means that there will be many, many, many Yoricks.

Destroyed copies will remain destroyed for the standard overnight period of any other person. But there are too many of them to defeat this way, and their destruction is impermanent. Thankfully, help is on the way!

In the midst of the undead and their attack on the citizens of Pumpkin Hollow, tiny glimmers of hope appear in the form of folded paper birds. The little gold birds flit from fighter to fighter, small whispers promising that if enough enemies can be felled then the High Priestess can intervene. The necessary number is unknown, but if a bird alights upon someone, they will feel their weariness vanish for a short time, and perhaps, should she feel like it, they may receive a temporary boon to use against the undead.

Eventually the High Priestess will show herself, making good on the promises of the little birds. With a smile, her magic will wrap around the remaining undead, returning them to the unseen graves and binding them into Death once more, leaving the living to pick up the pieces.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Max is at Baker Ranch.

Which is closer than home, and why she is guarding this particular area. She's swift so anywhere on the island isn't far if she hurries, but at this pace, even the Ranch seems a little daunting. She can feel the sting fading, so she's knows that she will be whole soon enough.

I should be healed long before we reach it.

Valdis continues to limp forward. Each step gets easier, less painful than the last, it seems the spell is indeed wearing off and soon enough the fur finishes closing over the wound and it's as if nothing ever happened. Unfortunately, Fever will not see it that way, nor would anyone else had they witnessed it. Some would be in awe, some terrified, some would whisper as to what kind of creature could do such a thing, come back from such a wound in so short of a time.

But not Fever, Valdis knows her too well to assume she will let it go so easily. She's certain her partner is already imagining killing her other self again, punishing her for what she did.

Her stride evens out, perfectly normal now.

See? Never anything to worry about.

"Never, as if she wasn't aiming to take your entire leg and probably use the snapped bone to try and spear under your jaw."

Highly specific, but she can guess at her own thoughts well enough.

"Just because you can heal it away doesn't mean I like that she attacked you. And just because you're fierce and strong doesn't mean that I won't worry over you. Would you simply brush it off of I got injured, even though these robes let me mend myself?"

Baker Ranch. That's where they'll go, then, and then Fever will be off again.

Any part of me that was taken would have turned to ash in her hands.

She doesn't expect that to be reassuring, and she tries her best to be understanding of Fever's concerns. Now she knows how Max feels every time she she worries over him.

No, I would not be pleased if someone harmed you, nor would I let it go lightly, but are you fussing because I was injured or because it was someone that wore your face and used your powers that did it?

It can be one and the same, but she would like to know just how much Fever blames herself, if only to gently counter the fears.

"The two are separate problems, Valdis. Someone injuring you like that infuriates me, but I handled it, and you're healing, and I'm going to get you somewhere to rest. That will soothe me. That it was me was...welcome. No need to hesitate."

There's a strange feeling in her, like a hue of a different emotion washed in another color. Layers and layers over absolute blackness, over the color of the abyss.

"I wish she held on longer. I wasn't done with her. But that matters little in comparison to making sure you're safe."

The Hound stops, assuming Fever will stop with her.

I am a warrior, I will not stand on the sidelines in any conflict. Did you really think we could avoid magic users forever?

Valdis knows she has no choice but to accept the worry, that worry is what happens when someone loves and values another. Fenrir had never worried, but she had long since realized that he had loved the power, not the one who wielded it.

This world is filled with magic, something I have little experience fighting. If I don't adjust, I will die, it is as simple as that. It always has been, and it always shall be. I didn't die this time and those spells will be less effective should they ever be thrown at me again.

"I doubt she showed you her full hand. And I have talents that she did not. Ones that have grown and flourished and taken on their own life."

A little sigh, and she presses her forehead against Valdis's side for a brief moment. She worries because she always will, because no matter immortality or skill or experience, all it takes is one wrong move. One mistake. One overlooked moment.

"If you see a being with my face, tell me. Let me handle whatever it is. I do not ask this because I don't trust you, but because I know how I think. And the way I think, muddled and mangled as it is, is not something that I want you have to puzzle out while the full force of the storm is being brought down upon you."

Valdis releases a big sigh that fills her entire body.

I cannot stand by or wait for you to appear, and I will not flee if it would put others in danger.

She's not sure what Fever expected her to do, she needed to cover her people and once her doppleganger saw a worthy opponent, Valdis suspects it wouldn't have been easy to flee.

You once made me promise to kill you should you ever turn or lose control, do you not believe I will be able to do so? If that is the case, then teach me how to defeat what you fear.

"This isn't about fear."

Because fear would have gotten her killed. Fear would have left her more injured. No, no.

"This is about the fact that she needs to be killed utterly and totally. If there is a sliver of a chance she will survive, that needs to be eliminated. She needs to be torn to shreds and burnt, flayed until she forgets the rest of her self, her lungs pierced so she can draw no breath, her eyes torn out so she cannot see, her eardrums shattered so she cannot hear, her tongue cut out so she cannot speak, and worse visited upon her.There cannot be even a flicker of hesitation in your heart when you face her. Do not give her a single, single drop of mercy, even if she asks for it. It will only come back to harm you."

Her list of torments is spoken calmly, sweetly, like a prayer for a blessing. And in her heart, there is absolute certainty and conviction when she says it. This is necessary. This is what one must do, to prevent a return.

(Retreating into the net of roots inside her own head, knowing she'll have to exorcise it all out on other zombies later to keep things perfectly contained.)

"I am prepared to take every measure that must be taken to see her die. Are you?"

Valdis listens to the growing list of horror that Fever desires to unleash upon herself and it becomes evident that this is much deeper than a fight in which she was injured. This is Fever's hatred for herself and everything she once stood for, her despair over a history she cannot change and is too close to to accept. Her good memories start here, in the near present, without the history of love and goodness that Valdis has long experienced. She has not had time to accept, to heal, and seeing herself act as she once did must have brought all that bubbling back up to the surface.

She knew that Fever could not believe she was worthy of being loved, but she had accepted that she was, Valdis did not realize how deeply the hatred had buried itself, how strong of a hold it had on Fever. It hurts farm more than any wound, but she will not challenge her feelings, as they are her own and Valdis has no right to argue with her. Forgiving herself was something she would need to do in her own time, if ever.

She is not you, she doesn't have your soul, your warmth. She is but a mockery of the person I love, she is everything you don't want to be. I have no qualms over slaughtering such an imitation.

But she cannot indulge in it like Fever can, there can be no satisfaction in the violence, not anymore, not since she ate a demon's heart and learned what happens.

And I will not let you become that again, no matter what I must do to prevent it, and if I must destroy you in order to save you, I will not hesitate.

"It'll have to be you, since I promised I wouldn't solve things with my own sacrifice."

Even in the furthest reaches of the pit, she holds to that. Her death cannot solve anything. Her yielding would not fix anything. Her self loathing is an endless drowning in so much blood it turns dark, her hand always holding the whip that strikes her own back, hatred rooted in stone - but she cannot die. She will not die. Not yet. Not again. There are days when she cannot look in the mirror for how the sight of herself makes her feel, the desire to tear at herself almost overwhelming, but she still rises. Still gets dressed. Still is in as much love with the world and those within it as ever.

"But I've fought too hard for that, anyway. No wretched creature or demon or anything else gets to take my face and use it to their purposes. None of them."

Deep breath. Slow. Keep moving towards the ranch.

"They'll answer for it, when I find the culprit."

Valdis has half a mind to refuse to continue to Baker Ranch, but she knows Fever will feel better if she does, even if she doesn't need the rest. All effects of the spells have dissipated and she feels as she did before the fight even started. She hums softly and then begins to walk toward the ranch again.

We will find who did this, Fever, they will not get the chance to do it again.

"I know. But when we do...let that being's heart go to rot."

It's been months since then, but she doesn't want what happened after Efrain to happen again. Not if it puts Valdis at risk. Not if it incapacitates her so.

I can promise nothing. To not destroy my enemy utterly goes against my nature. Just as you must enact your Justice upon yours, I must do the same.

She doesn’t mean to dismiss Fever’s worry, but she grows tired of being treated like glass. Erik and Max had done the same in the aftermath.

She says nothing after that, knowing nothing she can say will fall in alignment with what Valdis is saying. Instead, she focuses on the path, and on keeping her emotions in check, allowing the moment to pass through her.

Soon enough, the borders of Baker Ranch come into view, and Fever feels a wave of relief come through her. Still standing, and more importantly, safe for those inside.

"I can't ask you to stay here. But can I ask you to at least try to rest?"

Valdis allows Fever to rest in the silence. She knows it's not what Fever wants to hear, knows that she herself doesn't want to go through that again, but her nature may overrule reason, and she can only hope it won't be as bad again.

When they reach Baker's Ranch, Valdis too is relieved to see it peaceful and safe.

In this, I will do as you ask.

She turns her head to nuzzle her partner again.

There's a warm relief in that, a wave that runs through her and a gentler smile on her face.

"Good. I'll even take a moment myself to catch my breath, since all seems quiet now."

Another kiss is laid on Valdis's fur, and she hopes someone's going to notice them coming so they don't get startled by the wolf at the door.

Two moments would make me feel better.

There is some rushing around as they come down into the middle of the homestead, but most of the people here know who she is, so there is no panic. Max is within the main building, with changes of clothing for her and plenty of food.

Do you care to come in?

"I'll stay outside if it's all the same. I've got a lot of blood on me, they probably don't want me tracking it in."

She could fix this easily, but she's not in a hurry to. And if she stays outside, she stays standing, and keeps going. It's that simple.

Valdis nuzzles her again before she steps away, up the steps to the main house, tugging on a blanket draped over a chair so that it flips over to cover her as she shifts. She needs a shower herself, and Max won't let her go back out without eating.

"I'll bring you out some food."

"Thank you. Take your time - I won't leave before you do."

Fever will find somewhere she can sit down for now. She'll take those two moments, with her biggest concern dealt with. Time enough to think about where to go and who to fight next, with familiar faces among the dead. Time enough to feel a little of the weariness in her bones that will only surge when it's all over.

But for now, she's fine, and she'll keep being fine.

Valdis slips inside, worrying that Fever may grow restless should she take too long. After a brief word with Max, promising to return to speak with him and rest, she quickly showers, puts on fresh clothing and returns to her partner with some warm bread and a little dish of butter.

She knows Fever didn't leave as she could sense her the entire time, but there was a strange feeling in her chest the entire time they were apart. Fever can take care of herself, but she's more worried about the woman's emotional state.

"Here."

She holds out the loaf of bread and the butter.

By the time Valdis reappears, Fever's managed to at least wash her face and hands, thanks to a helpful bucket, and then sits back down. Food will help, since she can distantly feel herself being hungry - another thing that will hit her when this is all over.

Oh, bread. Regardless of anything else, the way her eyes light up is immediate, and her smile is grateful as she takes the items.

"Wonderful." After only a second's consideration, she withdraws one of her daggers from her robes - the amber one, perfectly clean - and uses it to cut a piece off the loaf, holding it back out to Valdis to accept or decline as she wishes.

When Fever's eyes light up at the offer of food, Valdis allows herself to relax. They can sit, eat, and rest without fear here. After Fever takes a piece, Valdis tears off a bit for herself, scraping the butter with a small knife and spreading it across the warm bread.

They will both feel better after they eat.

"Do you need something to drink?"

It's definitely her turn to fuss.

"I can get water in a bit."

It's a genuine effort to get herself to eat at a reasonable pace, fighting the urge to wolf it down and immediately get back to it. It's so good though - she knows she's going to be starving when all of this is over, burning through her energy like she can afford it.

"How are you feeling now? Anything lingering from her?"

Valdis shakes her head.

"I'm fine, Fever. I might be out of my element fighting mages, but I am very difficult to kill."

More difficult now that she has experienced some of those spells as they will be less effective now overall.

"I wish you would worry less about me and more about yourself."

May Event - All Too Familiar

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