ataraxionlogs | been down in the gutters without a care [open]

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been down in the gutters without a care [open]

CHARACTERS: Murphy Pendleton and You.
LOCATION: Anywhere and everywhere, though feel free to run into him at the shuttle bay, by the airlock.
WARNINGS: The usual shebang that comes with being a Silent Hill Protagonist.
Edit: ALSO BECAUSE REV IS DUMB AND FORGOT TO PUT IT IN THE SUBJECT LINE: There are some pretty adult things happening between adults in Anne and Murphy's thread, being adults and stuff. As in, of the NSFW adult variety. So. Um. Yeah.
SUMMARY: Murphy's taken it upon himself to collect masks to airlock. What a guy.
NOTES: This can happen over the course of this month. If dates are important, feel free to specify in the subject line.
I fully welcome anyone who's gone crazy from their masks to encounter Murphy. He'll probably try and take masks from people to dispose of as well, whether if he has to take them against their will or not. Feel free to hit me up on plurk or AIM (ReverieNightengale) if you want to hash something out. Handwaving is also acceptable, if you want to have Murphy keep trying to figure out how to get rid of your characters' mask.

"You've gotta be kidding."

It must have been the way the face looked back at him. From his door, it watched. Each time it was the same.

Murphy didn't know what he was expecting after the jump. Maybe he had just hoped that it would magically disappear within the week or so, as most things around him usually seemed to. Returning to his room for the past few days to the same black eyes and terrible face that scrutinized him, however -- Murphy no longer had any such hope that this would be the case.

Teeth gritted, blood hot, he ripped the two masks down from the door of room 073. How many times he was going to have to do this, he had no idea. Far as he was concerned, it was a routine that he could keep up with every day, now that he was feeling top shape enough to stand on his own damn feet again.

"...Hell with this place..." Murphy muttered, turning to pick up the pace down the corridor.

By then, he learned the route well enough to not even get lost on the way to the airlock anymore. Though Resnik's recommended choice of disposal hadn't been as productive as Murphy had hoped, just getting it out of the way.

That day, he at least decided to kill two birds with one stone (terrible implications of the pun not intended), because he had more than just the masks to get rid of. That canvas sack, which had been so crudely placed in his locker, had to go as well. He just didn't have a better way of doing it without the risk of leaving these things somewhere on the ship.

Last thing Murphy wanted was for a sack that reeked of death and decay to be lying somewhere for somebody to find. These masks, both his and Anne's, were also becoming a problem as well.

So he wrapped the masks up in the sick fabric, like a joke and a punchline. To hell with it all, as far as he was concerned. In some manner is insane logic, one sick joke had to cancel out the other, right?

Right. He didn't care to think about it much.

For now, it was gone. All of it. The masks, the canvas sack, all ready to go. Murphy's jaw tensed as he tossed the bundle back into the airlock, just as he had many times before.

With the flip of a switch, just like that -- the problem was gone. At least, for the time being...

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Manfred had never worn his mask. Once he saw the face of Gregory Edgeworth staring at him, he quickly snatched the mask and hid it away in his room. But he thought about it quite a bit, the paranoia inside of him building up. Someone obviously knew. No, he knew who knew about it. He had met two people on this ship who claimed to be from the future, claimed that they knew he had murdered Gregory Edgeworth. But Miles was still loyal to him, so obviously he didn't know.

Manfred couldn't risk anyone knowing, though, and the most he thought about that mask, the more paranoid he got. He wanted it to be gone and never again.

So with the mask tucked away in a satchel, Manfred found himself near the airlock area, but he wasn't alone. Someone else was there, clearly having a similar idea, perhaps. He couldn't dispose of the mask now, not with someone watching.

It was just another day on another hour of Murphy repeating the same cycle. Because that's exactly what his life was like, wasn't it? A fucking cycle. Why bother fighting it when the outcome was always the same?

Better to have this than to put on the mask of a monster. Even if it had become a part of him that he was forced to accept. Repeating the cycle had just become another part of that role he played.

Then there was this other guy. Murphy had never met him before, but he wasn't the type who could boast saying that he knew everybody. Just enough to get by without completely losing his mind. Unless if this person was considering on going the way of Annie Cresta (and Murphy sure as hell hoped not), he had a pretty good idea on why someone would be anywhere near the airlock.

"Whatever you're thinkin', it's not gonna work."

Ever the optimist, that Murphy Pendleton.

Fortunately, Manfred had no intentions of throwing himself into the airlock. Just the mask. But he didn't want to admit that he had such a mask, despite seeing many others on the ship wearing them, or seeing them on others' doors. But his own mask had to be destroyed.

"And what do you suppose I'm thinking of doing?"

Because surely if he tossed the mask in the airlock, it would be lost to the vacuum of space forever, unless it crash-landed on a galactic object and disintegrated. Either option would be preferable. Why wouldn't throwing a mask in an airlock work? Unless Manfred turned out to be right, that they weren't actually in space and this was all an illusion.

"You tell me -- but there is somethin' goin' on here, and I know I'm not the only one who notices it."

This guy didn't look to be the type who was going over the edge, but Murphy could never tell for sure. You'd think that time would have taught him better, but if certain events had been any indicator, his sense of judgment was still pretty off.

Still, Murphy didn't move within an appropriate conversation-distance just yet. He actually didn't care to spend much more time here in the shuttle bay than he had to. The airlocks just made him nervous, for obvious reasons.

Manfred still looked back at the younger man, a slight scowl on his face as he stood his ground. Now he was somewhat suspicious; what exactly was he throwing out in the airlock, if anything? Or a person? No, it couldn't have been a person. He really hoped not. What a rotten way to die.

"Indeed, there's something strange going on," he agreed. "But I'm curious to know what you're doing here."

"I've been tryin' to figure out how to get rid of our damn masks -- permanently."

Far as Murphy was concerned, there was no use in trying to lie or hide what he was doing. Because really, disposing of a lump wrapped up in a smelly sack probably didn't look that trustworthy in the first place. Murphy recognized the beginnings of digging an even deeper hole when he saw one.

Well, most of the time, he did...

Upon hearing what the man had to say, Manfred's scowl faded a bit for a moment. It was a small relief that someone else had a mask that disturbed them, that perhaps Manfred wasn't alone in being victim to something that was trying to broadcast his guilt to the world.

"Permanently? I'd think that once they're in space, they're gone forever."

And that was when Manfred suspected that there was something else at play here. Perhaps this man was hiding something. Manfred didn't even consider that the masks would reappear. Why would they? That's just preposterous. Then again, so is the notion of his daughter appearing from the future...

Murphy had a bad experience with masks. It wouldn't have been the first time that he'd put something on and was forced to change against his will. But this time, actually putting one of those ugly things on willingly seemed like an even crazier idea.

"I thought that, too. But I've had to come back here just about every day after the ship came outta standby. Eventually, it just comes back." Which made what Murphy was doing right here and now all the more pointless, really. For all he knew, he'd go back to his room after this, and the gas mask would be there once again, staring him down, as if berating him.

"They... come back?" Preposterous. There was no way that it could come back from the vacuum of space unless it heralded to some extremely minute chance of physics. But even then, that wasn't possible to keep coming back.

"Not possible. It's illogical." Part of him knew that the ship was somehow capable of defying these laws of physics, if this even was a ship. If he was still in some horrible dream for this past month. "Unless that's just a cover. Are you really disposing of that mask?"

He was almost grasping at straws, but he had to evaluate the situation as best he could. Manfred was suspicious of many people, after all, and he didn't want to believe that this ship was somehow capable of magical physics-defying antics.

"If you don't believe me, chuck your mask and then check your door tomorrow. I'm sure it'll be back." Either that, or Murphy was just a special case. Considering that he heard someone mention on the network that they do come back, though, he doubted it.

He then sighed. Of course the guy didn't believe him. Why would he? Six months ago, Murphy would probably be calling bullshit on all of this, himself.

"I'm not lying, and it's not a cover. I'd prove it, but it kinda got sucked out and I'm short on a spacesuit."

Sarcasm wasn't going to be helping his case either, was it?

"Hmph." It still sounded utterly ridiculous, just like most things on this ship. But there was part of Manfred's brain that told him that what this man was saying was a distinct possibility. And if that was true, then the mask would show up on Manfred's door the next day, Gregory Edgeworth's face in plain view for everyone to see. Should he risk that?

"Logic tells me not to believe you, but everything else on this ship seems to already defy logic."

His expression softened slightly because he truly didn't know what to think. Maybe this man wasn't covering anything up. But even so, Manfred wasn't about to withdraw his mask for this man to see.

Murphy actually snorted at his line of reasoning. "No offense, but you're on a spaceship, and no one knows how you, or any of us, even got here. Think it'd be fair to say you can throw logic away right now. But if it really is the mask you're gonna chuck out, might as well just go ahead and do it."

He wouldn't blame anyone for wanting to. The only reason Murphy did at this point was to temporarily get it out of sight and mind until he could think up a more lasting solution.

What the man said was absolutely right, unfortunately, and Manfred only had to scowl at that. Because nothing here made any sense, he didn't know how he got here or how all of the distortions in time had happened.

"Fine, I'll believe you for now," he begrudgingly admitted, not looking pleased to do so. "But tell me: what time of day do these masks usually reappear?" Not that there was any sort of "time of day" in space, since they were supposedly far, far away from the Sun and Earth.

Murphy shrugged.

"Dunno. Sometimes after I wake up, sometimes when I leave for awhile and come back... No way of keepin' track, really." Which may have been the intent. Whoever it was that was bringing them back was trying to get the jump on them, maybe?

Wow, as if that thought didn't sound embarrassingly paranoid...

Well, that settled it. Manfred wasn't going to dispose of his mask at all, not when it could reappear at any random moment.

"Hmph. I see no point in airlocking this thing then if it will reappear at will. A waste of time."

But truthfully it was out of paranoia. He couldn't afford to have anyone see this mask, especially not Edgeworth. Of course Manfred could make up some convoluted lie about how Gregory Edgeworth's face represented Manfred's desire to take over his fatherly role in Miles Edgeworth's life, but he still couldn't risk it, especially when others knew.

Murphy made a little suit yourself hand gesture, or at least a dismissive one that could be interpreted as such.

"Well, whatever you decide, do yourself a favor and try to get rid of it. The longer you keep it around, the more it's probably gonna mess you up." Speaking from personal experience here. Murphy found himself more than just a little troubled when coming back to the face of his boy's murderer and the representation of something even worse in himself, just hanging on his door.

Yeah, he didn't even want to try and consider the implications that this place was trying to bring to light, there. It pissed him off.

The more it's going to mess you up? What did that even mean? Manfred couldn't deny that he had grown more wary of that mask, thinking about it more even when he hid it away. He had never worn it, but he couldn't stop thinking about it, wondering how much it was going to haunt him.

"Mess you up?"

He paused as he tried to leave. He didn't want to believe what the man was saying once again but he had to consider the possibilities.

"Exactly how?"

Admittedly, something like that could mean a lot of things. Murphy was already starting to note the effect that these things have on people.

Of course, it could also be a product of being in space for so long. If anyone asked, there was no dying that Murphy himself was starting to feel the heavy weight of madness close down on him. But that wasn't anything new, for a guy who had spent years never seeing the sun.

No, this was something different. Murphy remembered the woman in the hallway, and the network. People were losing it. They just didn't know it yet.

"I dunno how to explain it -- but I think it's affecting everybody differently. Just don't do it. Put it on, I mean. That's all I'm saying."

Some kind of mass hysteria, of course. That was the most logical explanation, and everyone connected it with these masks. But then how did everyone seem to get different ones that pertained to them? No, he had to stick with the logic. Mass hysteria was a good answer.

"I haven't put mine on, and I have no plans to do so, so I'm sure I'll avoid this mass hysteria."

At least he hoped to.

Murphy wasn't sure if hysteria was going to be an issue here. Though, as he saw people jumping to conclusions, the network post made by their red smiling friend, and so forth...

He'd seen mass panic before, though. He'd seen riots and violence and the walls of sanity break down around him. Murphy also knew better than to let himself get caught up in it.

So he'd keep disposing the mask, each day, until he found his solution.

"Think I'd be more cautious of the ones who aren't gonna be able to avoid it." As Murphy already encountered a few.

Of course, there were others. Manfred wasn't particularly concerned about others except for Franziska and Edgeworth. Franziska because she was his daughter, and Edgeworth because he could end up reaching his breaking point if provoked by such a thing.

"If, as you say, these masks do influence others who cannot avoid it, then why would you insist on throwing them away when they'll just appear again?"

Because really, he saw no point to this. An addict separated from their drug of choice would go crazy without it. If encountered in less than a day it was likely they would simply cling to their substance even harder, unless it was a person who had a particularly strong will. But in Manfred's experience, the majority of society was full of fools.

Murphy just threw his arms out in a hopeless gesture. "Honestly? Because I haven't found a better alternative yet -- and I'd rather not have to look at it or have it anywhere near me."

Whether he left it on his door or discarded it somewhere in his room, he couldn't escape the pull that came from it. It was crazy... For as much as he had no desire to touch it, let alone put it on, there was some insane, primal need to surrender to it. It went beyond any reasonable answer he could give.

He also knew that he was just chasing his own tail here with what he did ever day -- but it was what Murphy did.

Manfred seemed to know he had backed this man into a corner with his question. Was there truly no way that anyone knew of to permanently dispose of these masks? He wanted to scoff at the young man for coming up with such a ridiculous explanation, but it seemed to be the best one anyone could come up with.

"Fair enough," he finally said. "Thank you for informing me then, Mister--"

He drew out the last word slightly in a question to inquire as to the man's name.

It was hardly noteworthy information. Like they'd been warned, use your common sense. But such things didn't seem to be much of a common practice with some people, if Murphy's recent encounters had been any indicator.

"Murphy... Pendleton." He paused; it still felt weird for people to refer to him as Mister Anything.

Perhaps it wasn't exactly noteworthy, and there was a hint of sarcasm when Manfred had thanked him. But what was happening with these masks defied all forms of logic, so Manfred was almost lost. He had already known there was something wrong with these masks, but not to this degree, the fact that they apparently reappeared even from the vacuum of space (which made absolutely no sense).

"Well then Mr. Pendleton, I shall be keeping my mask for now, but rest assured I have no plans to wear it. Good day to you then."

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been down in the gutters without a care [open]

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