ataraxionlogs | PLAYER PLOT: fear is the mind-killer

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PLAYER PLOT: fear is the mind-killer

CHARACTERS: You and all your least favorite things.
LOCATION: Shipwide.
WARNINGS: Violence, gore, monsters, psych trauma. (Please warn for any potential triggers—e.g. medical horror, eye stuff, recollection of past sexual trauma—in your subject lines.)
SUMMARY: Boggarts. See the plot post for a full timeline if you want to forward-date; otherwise, watch this space for updates.
NOTES: Whatever happens, however this ends, remember that it's Draco Malfoy's fault.

JAN 22

If you've been paying attention, you should already be on edge. Ward and Resnik have returned without many answers. There's the dead pirate again. The Tranquility is being pursued. People are talking about violent confrontation like it's inevitable, any cycle now. Any day. And now Morgoth is back, somewhere in the corridors.

If you keep an eye out, you won't find him. But you might find something else.

JAN 23

Never mind about Morgoth.

JAN 24

Despite very well-intended claims to the contrary (see above), the mounting evidence suggests that boggarts can be killed. Also, there's probably more than one. Sorry about that.

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[ She's had one run in with it by now, knows that whatever drives these things it's for pain and if Allison hadn't had someone tell her it wasn't, she'd assume it was the nogitsune. But Stiles is fine (she's checked on him personally) and that's not Stiles accosting Lydia, so Allison doesn't even bother with a warning shot or noise. She just fires an arrow into his back. She readies another, and that's when she decides to say something, bow drawn and ready. You know, in case she doesn't like his answer. ] Put her down.

[ It drops her, but not out of any obedience. Rather, the sharp sting of the arrow has it turning its attention on Allison. Lydia's feet touch the ground and she pulls herself out from between Stiles—it's not Stiles, it's not even the nogitsune, she reminds herself—and the wall, tearing off a few feet down the hall so it's caught between her and— ]

Allison!

[ Relief washes through her, but not enough. Because it's still moving, and now it's heading for her, all jerky, unnatural movements as it paces in her direction. It taunts her, You couldn't kill me before, Allison. How do you expect to do it now? ]

[ Allison's grip on her bow tightens, because she's not going to let this thing get to her. Not the nogitsune and certainly not something called a boggart. She's fought one of these and won before, she can do it again, even if it's wearing the face of something she didn't win against before.

Allison swallows, glancing from Lydia to the boggart. ] Actually, I'm pretty sure we did kill you.

[ The boggart's face twists into a smirk, and he glances behind himself at Lydia and then back to Allison. Really? If I remember right, you weren't even there. He glances back, winks at Lydia. So I'm gonna kill you -- again -- and then I'm going to kill Lydia here, and there's nothing you can do about it. ]

[ Ripley cuts the flamethrower just in time for the distressed yell to ring out in the wake of the fire. It doesn't register as familiar — she knows Lydia's voice, but not like this. She's still quick to respond, breaking into an easy run with the modified gun in tow, and she rounds a corner just in time to catch the tail end of that sentence.

It doesn't make sense. Not without context, not without knowing just how far the ship can go to drag people in. But all it takes is seeing the two girls with the threatening figure between them, the recognition filtering through quickly as she spots Lydia's hair.

Ripley's approaching from the shadows behind her, and she moves forward to step past Lydia, put herself between her and the threat as she raises her gun, calling out a harsh: ] Hey!

[ Its back is to them. The idea is to get its attention, let the other girl get another arrow in its back. ]

[ After everything that happened, the last thing she wants to imagine herself as is helpless. Useless. But in the face of the Nogitsune—no, boggart—she really feels it. Logic and reason only get her so far. It looks like Stiles, could have come aboard at the jump, and they hadn't been able to outright kill it so easily the first time. Separating it from Stiles had taken work, disentangling their life forces.

If they hurt the Nogitsune now, would it kill Stiles? Could the boggart seize that bond and monopolize on it as well? They don't seem so far apart.

Keeping one hand trailing on the wall, she begins to double back, behind Ripley just as she steps forward. The redhead looks up wildly, catching sight of the gun. ]

Wait!

[ Because they have no way of knowing. She surges forward, grabs onto Ripley's shoulder. Between Ripley and Allison, the Nogitsune-shaped boggart laughs coolly. That's right. You wouldn't want to hurt your friend, would you? He looks back at Allison, all ease and charm in his dark smile. Appealing to Allison works better: whatever Ripley's afraid of is something different, causing undulations to ripple in his spine as it tries to adapt. ]

[ Allison tightens her grip on her bow -- first when Ripley shows up, because she's never seen this woman before and barreling out of nowhere with a flamethrower is a little extreme (if admirable), and again after the Nogitsune turns to her.

She'd relaxed only for a second when she realized Ripley was friend and not foe, but that's what got her killed last time and she's not going to let this thing wearing Stiles' face do that to her again. ] You're not Stiles.

[ She's adamant about this, even if the waver in her voice is starting to make her wonder. She doesn't see the nogitsune twitch slightly as it fights to change into Ripley's fear, into Allison's fear. She wants to believe that it's the boggart but she can't be sure.

And he takes advantage of that, smirking at Allison. See? You don't have a choice. You're going to have to let me go, because you don't want to hurt Stiles. ]

[ Ripley stops, more because of the hand on her shoulder than Lydia's shout. Her actions are still controlled, deliberate, and she only spares her the briefest of glances to study her expression before her eyes shift back to the boy.

Not a boy. A wolf in sheep's clothing. The other girl's speaking instead shooting, and despite the resolve in her voice she holds steady as the monster volleys another round of taunts.

Ripley watches as black ink climbs over the figure's hands, starting at the finger tips, pitch and slick. Claws pull at the human nails, causing them to stretch and distort. But that's it; small flickers, slow morphs that don't overtake it entirely. ]

You should both leave.

[ A command, yes, but she doesn't bark it out. There's a calmness to it that's softened by sympathy, even if she can only grasp at the surface of the mind games that are going on here. ]

[ If either of them held uncertainty about whether something had crawled inside of Stiles again, the bubbling black at the tips of his fingers quells it. Lydia's eyes widen, and she withdraws her hand from Ripley's shoulder, pulling it against her chest as she takes a shaky step back.

Unfortunately, though it assures her that her best friend hasn't been lost to something dark and twisted taking hold of him again, it doesn't do anything to stop up the fear that rises like bile in her throat, ready to rend a scream from her at any moment. She holds it back, for now, but — ]

What is that? What's it doing?

[ Under normal circumstances, she follows instruction well, but with the pitch slowly consuming Stiles—no, the Nogitsune—like a ripple beneath his skin causing his flesh to resemble an ill-fitting suit, she can't bring herself to budge without understanding what's happening. ]

[ He twitches, an unnatural almost grotesque movement as his body attempts to change even as it fights against it. It's time for you to run, now.

He hasn't even finished the sentence before Allison's arrow flies, hitting him in the shoulder, and the Nogitsune -- no, Allison tells herself, the boggart -- yowls in pain, spinning on his heel and lunging for her. This time it's Allison who doesn't have a chance to react, mostly because she's too busy staring at his hands because they're not hands anymore. They're gnarled, black claws, and one of them knocks her upside the head, sending her to the floor. ]

It's changing.

[ There's a frustrated finality to Ripley's answer, but her eyes don't move, still locked on the creature as the ink climbs towards its elbows. Her jaw tenses at the sudden movement as Allison releases an arrow; the thing twists under the assault, then lunges.

She isn't quick enough to shoot before it lands the blow to Allison's head, but at least that guarantees the girl's out of the line of fire. Ripley pulls the trigger even before Allison hits the ground, and a short spray of bullets slams into the boy's back. It screams as the cloth and skin frays and releases tendrils of black smoke, twisting again — but the features that turn on Ripley and Lydia with a shrill noise aren't Stiles'.

Silver teeth glint beneath the dripping saliva of the double-maw, human features peeling back in wisps of smoke to reveal the grotesque oil-slick skin of the alien. ]

Get back!

[ That's to both girls, assuming Allison's even conscious enough to hear it. ]

[ As the transformation completes, Lydia's eyes widen, racked with terror. She starts out staggering back, hurried clicks of heels backing her away from the monstrosity, then she turns, steadying one hand on the wall of the corridor as she turns, breaking into a run away from it. As much of a run as she can muster in these shoes, anyway.

Meanwhile, the alien creature dives forward for Ripley, whipping around as if to answer the shot she fired. ]

[ Allison is down, but not out. Granted, it takes her a couple of seconds to get back up. It hit her hard, and her head is woozy. She has to blink a couple of times to clear her head, sitting up only after Ripley's shots have been fired. Her bow's fallen a few feet away but Allison's not entirely sure that this thing will be hurt by it. It's nothing like she's ever seen before, and she's actually frozen in terror for a few seconds until she hears Lydia's heels running away.

Allison manages to stand up, using the wall as leverage, and she calls out to Ripley as the thing lunges. ] The boggart can be killed! Aim for whatever that thing's weak spot is!

[ Ripley's only answer is the abrupt roar of the flamethrower as it spits its way to life, covering the hallway in an abrupt flash of light. The creature's nearly on her by then, and instead it just lunges full tilt into the wall of heat; it screams, the sound a confused mix of human and metal — and maybe just a trace left of something more familiar, Stiles' voice.

The black figure recoils quickly, tail whipping around it in a pained frenzy. When smoke rises from it, it isn't natural. It's those same wisps from before, too thick and nearly purple to be anything other than magic. Even as it writhes beneath the continued onslaught of flame, it contorts; sounds wavering between alien and human, pitch black giving way to what looks like skin.

It feels like it takes ages, but a few seconds later if finally stops moving, mass losing distinction and sinking towards the floor. The roar of the flamethrower stops a half-second after, only to be followed up with a faint click as Ripley switches on her flashlight, saving their eyes from the rough adjustment to the dark.

A tense beat of silence, then: ]

Are you alright?

[ She doesn't take her eyes off the cooling scorch mark on the floor, gun still cautiously aimed. ]

Come on, we— [ Lydia looks behind her once she's a good fifteen feet away, staggers to a stop when she notices they're not following. The timing affords her the image of Ripley's flamethrower kicking to life, and she crouches, raising her hands over her head to cover them as if the fiery burst might somehow make it that far backward towards her.

Her flinch evens out as the flames die down and Stiles' screams go with. That's when she notices her hands are still shaking, and she glances at them beside her face, curling both into fists and straightening back to her feet.

Silence whips between them as the last embers of blackened shell crackle away from charred skin. And then, sure it's over, she races back towards them, throwing her arms around Allison without hesitation. It was too similar. Too much like before, when she'd lost her, when she hadn't even been there to see it. ]

[ She winces as the creature goes up in flames, but she watches, bent on making sure that thing stays down. She only turns her head when its screams turn to Stiles' before dying out completely.

Once she's sure it's gone, she turns, ready to move to Lydia, but Lydia's already there. She grabs her best friend close, squeezing her tight. For Allison, too, it's too similar. The Nogitsune hadn't been the one to slay her, but he had taken Lydia, and he had been planning to hurt her. Taking a deep breath, Allison pulls back enough just to be able to see Lydia's face, making sure she's alright. It hits her, then, that they're not alone and she turns just enough to face Ripley without letting go of Lydia. ] Thank you.

[ It should feel like an intrusion, maybe, watching as Allison and Lydia cling to each other in the wake of their fear. Ripley doesn't move away or avert her eyes, though; if anything, it seems more like some sort of reward. An affirmation — and a reminder of what she's lost, the memory of Newt's thin arms wrapped around her neck.

She's drawn away from the thought by Allison's thanks, answering it with a short nod. ] We should keep moving. There are more of them out there.

[ There are rooms that are secure; the open hallways, not so much. But the suggestion's patient, and she doesn't move to rush them forward. ]

More of them? I thought there was just one.

[ Someone didn't give Lydia the memo. But as she draws back out of Allison's arms, she packs her bewilderment away some and glances between them, suggesting readily, ] It looked clear this way. [ She contextualizes the statement with a pull on Allison's arm in the direction she'd started to run earlier. ]

[ Allison hesitates. She doesn't want to leave Lydia alone, but there are more of those things out there, and she can't just ignore that. In the end, protecting Lydia wins out, and she looks at Ripley, serious. ] I have to keep her safe.

[ It's part apology that she can't go fight more of these things, on her own or with help, part explanation as to why she's running off to safety. She's waiting for judgement, even a little bit. ]

[ No apology necessary, even if Ripley does pick up on it. She looks between Allison and Lydia, curious, then offers a light nod of understanding. ]

Be careful.

[ Said as more of a 'good luck' than official advice — she gets the impression Allison can take care of herself, in spite of those strange clips of dialogue she caught from the creature. Lydia's in good hands. ]

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PLAYER PLOT: fear is the mind-killer

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