Post by Revvie® on Jan 18, 2014 23:59:21 GMT -5
*Special Note: You must have read Puppetmaster Part 1 to follow the events in this roleplay. Also; I am providing a link to my bio, and at the bottom is a referential character list. Descriptions will vary over time, and information increase on each. Please use this in the chance of any confusion. Also at the bottom is a Story arc list, and contains links to all my rps since my return; for further understand if desired.
Bio/CharList/RpList
Mike (the mouse of bones with no head) woke, and his skeleton churned out a cry. The echo perked his brother’s ears, and they appeared at his side soon enough. Gary knew that Mike had fought with nightmares lately, and Robbie; Well, Robbie just wanted to hear another scary story about the kid who killed Mike.
Gary came up, but his brother of bones rattled only at an internal image. Robbie didn’t participate in the slow assault though, and barreled in, “Watcha doin Mikey?”
Mike jumped, and his rib cage cast a roar.
Both of his kin stepped back; there was something different about their brother. Gary tried to soothe the mood, “Maybe we all just need to bring ourselves down a bit, and talk about it; ok?”
The skeletal remains barked, “He wears one eye, but doesn’t spy.”
Gary’s curiosity peaked, with the simultaneous display of Robbie’s stupidity, “Why doesie wear an eye?”
“He wears two dolls upon his hands, but both made quite different demands.”
Gary now found the footing in words BEFORE Robbie ruined it again, “What demands does this person make?”
Mike was on autopilot; a dead body, possessed. “The dolls, they do dangle, and they tangle round your neck. They choke, and choke, until your humanity becomes..”
“Becomes what?” Robbie pushed; both confused, and a little amazed. He didn’t have the self-awareness level needed to know the difference. The dark of the night was on the science, but the moon lit Mike with a dull glow.
“The PuppetMaster comes when you attempt to pull strings, and takes you deep into the forest of dreams!”
Gary stumbled backwards, “M-Mike, come on man, I kn-know you’re in there.”
Robbie’s idea was better; he ran.
“Mike, I know you can hear me, please let’s just talk about what is going on…right now?” Gary was still apprehensive, and Mike’s irrationality grew with every question.
He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to tell stories, he didn’t want to exist. He didn’t want them to exist. Mike growled, and the moon was snuffed out.
Part 2 of 2
By, Revvie
*Past*
Whaty’s face burned red, and his frustration grew by the bushel. He couldn’t find it; a VERY specific dream journal. A nightmare conjured him up from bed this morning; he could still hear the giggle, and feel blood between his toes.
It was one he remembered having before, which in his experience was rare. Though; all Jed’s experiences were rare; diagnosed with a range of mental illness, he was an oddity in health community.
“What ya looking for?”
The speaker was Bart, and Bart was (as he put it) “of the fallen Fae.” He was a pint-sized person but he wasn’t beautiful, or whimsical. Bart was kind of like the aroma of someone breaking wind in a car, and that fear to confront the unknown someone with the issue.
Bart’s skin was grey, and scaled. His wings were tattered, and the fact they kept his Buddha belly upright was an amazement in itself. His looks may have been less than grand, but the unkempt ways of his friend Whaty, were more so.
Jed threw his notebooks chaotically, and forced the fairy to dodge. Bard was just to land on his shoulder.
“Dude, least let me help ya. This place will be a mess, if ya don’t quit it.” Bart laughed with sarcasm.
Whaty’s rampaged continued through the room, “I-I-It has t-t-t-to be here!”
“What does?”
Jed had moved onto his dresser, and pulled his current journal. He flipped till he found the page, and then pressed a crudely drawn image into Bart’s view.
“No, you had another dream about him? But-but I thought you were dreaming about that kid; ya know the one.” Fear filled his pupils, and Bart blurted the truth, “I burned it…”
Whaty dropped the journal, and eyes descended on his fairy friend. He was beyond pissed. The thought of yelling only increased irritation, because his stutter threw off any attempt at intimidation.
“Listen, I think I am just going to go hang out somewhere else for a bit; let you chill out.” Bart slowly flapped back towards the door, and then vanished with a puff of powder.
“Damnit!” Whaty stormed over to his desk, and hopped into the chair. He tried frustration, anger, but no WORD would do. The thrust of situation bared its teeth. The Puppet Master was here.
_______________________
The second after Jason vacated, Master David dwelled on what transpired. Not because it was the first time he faced a skeptic, and not because he was the first student. The thing that startled him was the quickness at which Jason swallowed it all.
Questions continued for a short time, but they ceased once David got to one of his favorite speeches. After, Jason was putty, and the Master began to mold.
When the nothingness resolved, the only thing left was the void, Jason, and David. But then David felt that dip, and the void pulled Jason in; welcomed him home. This was what didn’t settled well in him.
It didn’t need to settle; air broke through the door again; Kara came in. She didn’t wear a smile, nor a smirk, and her face didn’t pander gratitude. No, Kara looked pissed, and her eyes were set to smite David to dust.
The silence broke, “What the hell did you do to him?”
David gave a puzzled glance, and then sighed, “The same as always.”
“No, no no no no no no no. Something was
ing different, and you damn well know it!” Kara’s polar shift didn’t surprise David, but it put his nerves knots.
David stood up from his usual stance, and stretched his legs. “Listen,” the Master’s voice sung with sincerity, “I noticed it too, and have sought deep for an answer, but I am afraid one doesn’t track this way.”
He may have thought it a viable response, but she didn’t take it that way. “What in theing are you talking about? Do you really think I am just going to let something like—you know what? you then! See if I come back.”
Kara turned, and retreated. However; David stopped her cold with his next words, “I don’t have the answers, and I wish I did. I am trying--no, I am working on—the truth is, I am sorry. That is all I can give you.”
Master broke character, and Kara could only see David now. Part of her wanted to forgive him, and embrace him. The side that currently contained her, left her wanting to maim the man who destroyed another being.
Kara’s protective ways had already sliced through Jason earlier that day, and now she scoped David. “Please, if you must, then leave.”
She didn’t hold out, and left David there to sulk. Kara didn’t care about his apologies, and the only thing that dwelled was fear of what happened to Jason.
______________________
Jason sat solemn, and his arms bled into water; water into wine. His perceived life slipped to the void, but a dream consumed him before he could fall. It was a nightmare that couldn’t be eluded.
The backdrop of his bathroom peeled from the walls. Jason’s being stood from his body, and that too slipped from sight. Only one thing could be seen now, and that is all IT ever wanted.
The teen could make out the thing, as it crept closer with an odd gait. Its body bulb like, and its neck caused Jason to think of giraffe’s at the zoo. The head carried a mask with an eye painted on it.
When in complete eyeshot; Jason saw the final piece to the horrifying mass. Two hands, with gangly fingers, strapped with wooden puppets. Both were bare boned, and had no color or costume; Faceless.
Faceless puppets approached, and jangled round. Its long neck leaned low, and he could hear a faint laughter beneath the creature’s façade. The masked head cocked to the left, then to the right; giggling got louder.
Sweat welled up on Jason’s body, and he went wet with tears. Its laughter rose, even as the head backed away. Then the puppets danced; one for each eye. Their rhythm bounced to the tune of the void.
Jason followed their every jerk, and his lids lulled. He was asleep, but no; he was awake? It was all fuzzy to him, and then came pain.
Pain that shot through his spine, and ran to his head; a scream for help. Reality started to fade in, and the blur gave way to hospital security. Two of them subdued him now, and the one on his back slipped a bite guard mask on; while another strapped on a jacket.
Jason didn’t fight, but his body ached like he had. As they pulled the sleeve over his left arm he could see something. His wounds had scabbed; almost scarred. Time had lapsed, and the teen’s head spun with confusion.
He couldn’t remember.
_____________________
*Present*
It was the groove of the Long Beach Dub All-Stars' "Fugazi" that got Penny in the mood. It was chill, had a nice flow, and something about it that just made her feel so right.
The Velocity Girl walked across her apartment on bare feet, taking the time to really shrug her shoulder and just jive along with the song, which is something the girl hadn't done in a while. Penny took the blunt from her ashtray, and leaned back, taking a nice hit that got her coughing.
Aww yeah, the girl was going to get comfortably baked tonight and not do a damn thing. Could there by anything more perfect?
“DING DING”, the doorbell wailed.
Penny stopped where she was and slumped her shoulders. "Who the hell could that be?"
With joint still in hand, Penny kept one eye open as she peered through the keyhole. "Oh, it's just you!"
Penny grinned and opened the door, and bowed to her guest. "Welcome to Casa Del Shannon: Where the ganja never ends and all the girls just keeping on coming and coming and coming... Yeah."
The Reverend attempted a smile, but it came off a smirk, "Well, I need to get lit the up."
He melted into the person he had become with Penny, and it was someone he enjoyed being. With her it came easy; with her he could just exist in the space and not be asked for something. I guess that didn’t quite swing both ways, as he was always asked her for smoke.
"Is there any place in here we can hotbox?" Shadow just walked in, right by Penny.
Penny took another hit off her joint, and nodded towards her bedroom door. "Step into my office."
Walking ahead of Shadow, Penny swung the door to her tiny bedroom open. Well, there really wasn't any easier way of putting it: It looked like kind of bedroom that could only belong to a girl like Penny.
There were candles everywhere and, with the exception of several small spaces of nothing but white paint, the walls were covered up in a bunch of pictures and graffiti that was obviously made with a single Sharpie. Her mattress sat on the lower left side, covered with drapes and shawls of many types; forming a cone around it that made it look more like a cocoon than a tent.
Penny walked over to one of the beanbags she kept at the end of the room, and plopped herself down. She reached for her bong, and the Sailor Moon lunchbox she kept her stash in.
"Make yourself comfy, dude."
Reverend loved the ambiance, and let his body fall to one of the beanbags. It reminded him of being a kid (well; the part that he had got to be one). He looked around at all the little details, and then eventually his friend, "I am sorry to be so damn pushy, but all this crap lately."
He paused.
"I just wish Trist would get off my damn back about this Lauren thing, and I wish Lauren would get off my back about trying to help me." Shadows candor knew no limits when it came to Penny; emotion bubbled.
Penny loaded him a bowl, and passed the bong. "It's all good, dude. If it helps, I'm not having the easiest time right now either. It's not a particularly good time in both our lives."
The flame touched, sizzled, bubbled, and then Shadow gave way to a large inhale. Coughing came, and large billows of smoke followed. Rev wheezed, "What is going on, on your end?" He passed the bong, and pushed the question.
"For reasons I am contractually obligated not to explain." Penny yanked the bong from Reverend's hand, and shifted it between her legs. "I had to turn against my best-friend, do you know what kind of stupid existentialistic crap it's doing to me right now? Really not cool, it's like being fifteen all over again!"
Penny flicked her lighter on and, the moment the fire turned up, she titled the flame towards the open bowl. She took a couple puffs, to get the smoke just the way she liked, before taking it all in; the bubbles danced in symphony.
Penny drew her head away, and tried to hold in all that smoke until she eventually submitted to a small cough. "Why does it always have to suck whenever I decided to do something for myself?"
"Because we are destined for better things, and one has to burn away the edges of their self to find what they want."
Shadow laughed.
"Then again, that could just be the smoke talking." This could have been true on a number of a levels. Shadow took another hit, and the room flooded with fog. The ambiance dissolved to clouds of cannabis.
"It's the smoke talking." Penny chuckled, taking the bong from Shadow.
Penny exhaled a large cloud of smoke, and felt her eyes felt all heavy and sleepy. "I love you dude, but sometimes I don't think I get half of the crap you talk about. I hear it, I can kinda understand it, but I always have to give myself a second to stop and remember what you just said. It's like listening to you say the same thing twice."
"I suppose I can’t blame you, I don’t know what I am saying half the damn time either." Shadow thought for a second, and then his mind wandered away, "Did I tell you, Lauren said she was my daughter? I can't remember, but I know Trist knows. His ass has been on me since. That and this new title, which he thinks would be better pawned off."
Reverends lips were loose, and his troubles flowed. Well that, and the immense amount of smoke that now enveloped them. The tiny swirls catered to images of galaxies.
Penny passed the bong over to Shadow and leaned back on the beanbag, and allowed herself to slope down to her carpeted floor. "What do you think? You really her dad?"
"I don’t know. She wants to talk about, talk about her mother. I just keep avoiding it, and am not sure I really want to know. I am not even sure it would matter to me if she wasn’t; it would be more family than I have had in a long time."
He dwelled in that thought, sinking to its depths.
"She wants to help, and seems sincere. Trist keeps telling me she is using me, but I don’t see now. I don’t know. I am a goddamn mess." With that word, he grabbed up the bong, took a long hit, and held it tight. His eyes rolled back, and it felt good to breathe out; head rush. Reverend may have felt exhausted, but tried to keep himself in the conversation, "What would you do?"
"I'd talk to her, dude." Penny replied, sighing as she sank lower into the carpet. "Like I can see where Trist is coming from, but I'd get to know her and try to sort it all out. It's going to mess with your head if you don't, you know."
The good Revered was asleep now. He was too damn tired, and now it would take nightmare to bring him too.
Penny grabbed one of the blankets on the floor and covered him. Penny felt herself warm up into a really soft smile, as she looked down upon him. Despite all the hellfire and brimstone, there was this unseen sweetness in Shadow that just came out in the way he slept. He just looked so peaceful, content, and adorably comfortable; even as he turned on his side, and cuddled himself against the beanbag.
"Soft Revvie, Warm Revvie, little ball of pain," Penny sang, "Angry Revvie, Killer Revvie...
….pur, pur, pur."
___________________
Lauren’s pocket vibrated, but she didn’t even bother to remove the phone to look. She knew exactly who was calling; Slinn or one of his many lackeys, and didn’t care to talk to either. Her mind was clear, and her sense of vision focused on one thing; helping her dad. Though “help” might have been a loose word for it.
Shadow’s daughter carried herself into an old hospital records building. They stored away their old paper files, and only some of those were ever transferred over to computer. They also housed a number of things that lost use, or were simply forgotten about.
Only four people ever came in, and all four worked there; alternating. Lauren knew one of them; an older gentlemen who simply went by the name, David. He was night-shift. She didn’t come there to chat, and she had only by chance met David at the library. No, it was always business, and he always obliged; for a bit of money.
Lauren made her way up to the front desk where David was reading one of his many odd books. His eyes popped from the top, and he lowered it to revealed a smile, “Well, well, another look at Jed’s notebooks, eh?”
“Not exactly,” she hesitated, “I need more than that this time, I need to take a couple items with me.”
“Ah I see, well I suppose more should require more, am I right?”
Lauren frowned, but she had prepared for it. She laid an envelope on the desk, “A grand, it’s the best I can do.”
David smiled, nodded, and then buzzed the locked door next to him, “Be careful Miss Lauren.” She didn’t understand the sentiment, but she rarely did with David.
Lauren decided not to worry about, and opened the door to the storage hall. Numerous rooms were filled to the brim with whatevering thing they wanted; no organization. Luckily, she had found the pile for the old Anderson Children’s Mental Hospital (ACMH).
Most of it was useless junk, but she had found three boxes of boy’s notebooks; his name was Jedidiah. Apparently he had known her father when they were boys, and with every read over; she began to understand the Reverend.
Didn’t matter, the last notebook she read talked about a time when Shadow was at his most violent. Something about a nightmare creature, and Jed had drawn both. Rough sketches of her young father in bite guard mask, and another of the creature that haunted him (that was how Jed had made it sound with his words).
If Reverend hoped to beat the mask legend at Revolution, and for Lauren to continue with her treatment (and personal goals), she needed a way to reawaken what she had sought to stabilize. With Shadow, it always felt like two steps forwards, followed by a leap backwards off a cliff. She needed that mask. Shadow’s was easily triggered by nostalgia, and the rest would settle itself.
Lauren only sifted through a few boxes before she found one of the old bite guards. To think of her father in it made her sick. A history of violence one was of his many issues, and one of the many things wrestling temporarily harnessed.
She slipped it in a bag she brought with her, but she wasn’t done. Lauren snatched up the notebook that contained the sketches, and circumstances. Jed had intimate knowledge of Shadow at that age, and Lauren knew she might need a reference.
The items were secured, and she took leave of the storage area. David wasn’t at his desk when she came out, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to disappear like that.
Lauren walked out, and into the night.
_____________________
The smoke-filled room had caused Shadow to fall to a slumber. It was there that a familiar giggle echoed the annals of his mind. He ran, as an old hospital hall manifested; endless.
Reverend ran on, and on. His breath quickened, as the laughter raptured behind his head. The Puppet Master was coming and, even though no escape was possible, Shadow was damn sure going to try.
Then the hall halted, and all the doors slammed and locked. Shadow slowly turned to see the creature of his past. A giggle bounced from its mask, and a jiggle resonated through its fingers.
Shadow found no way out, and could only wait till IT reached him, and reached IN him. He remembered how he woke up last time, and black outs that had become a staple in his teen years.
When the creature caught up, it did has it had before. The long neck lowered, and met face to face with the painted eye; it cackled. Walls melted around them, and the void became their home again. Reverend smiled this time, and the fear fell from his bones.
Then the puppets danced dance, and moved hypnotically; bouncing to the tune of the void. The beat was cut off by a final giggle of the mask, but this time he didn’t fall to it; he bowed. This time it needn’t lull his lid, but instead he shut them.
This time; he wanted it.
_________________
Shadow’s eyes peeled back. He couldn’t remember the return to the motel room, but he could tell it was his bed. A lump under his pillow caused discomfort, which in turn caused investigation.
A mask.
The mask.
His shock came without words, but he lobbed the bite guard across the room; nearly clipped Trist; still glued to his videogames. However; this was more than enough get his attention, “What theing hell man?”
Shadow didn’t say a word. He removed the covers, and himself from bed. He continued moving toward the kitchen, then the fridge, and swallowed up three bottles of water before he acknowledged Trist. Which amounted to a glare, and passive frustration, “What was that doing under my pillow?”
“How the hell should I know,” Trist paused his game, and stood up, “You’re the lunatic; remember?”
“I am not playing games here!” Reverend’s tone tasted sour.
Trist didn’t care, “Wouldn’t give a crap if you were, I didn’t bring that thing in here. Hell; if you want to know what I have been doing. I was looking for your stupid ass belt again.”
Shadow noted the sincerity, but the anger didn’t recede, “What do I keeping telling you about leaving my crap alone!”
The good Reverend raged toward Trist, grabbed his scrawny body, and tossed him at a wall. Trist cried as he fell to the floor before Shadow.
Trist got up on his knees, “Plea-,” and Rev. connected with a hard knee to the nose.
Shadow mocked him, “Please what? Huh? I tried asking nicely for things at a time, and instead was thrown into situations I needn’t be in..BY YOU!” Shadow shouted, and landed a kick to his Trist’s gut.
“I-I am,” and another of Reverend’s boots pounded the poor man. Shadow didn’t care about whatever the he thought, or had to say.
He picked Trist up by the collar and pressed him against the wall. Blood escaped the beaten man’s lips, but something was wrong; a smile. Trist smiled at Shadow, and the grin caused a fist to the face.
Trist coughed up a bit of blood, and then grinned with crimson teeth. Shadow, again, put a punch to the beak. It didn’t change the smile, grin, smirk; it didn’t change the GIGGLE.
Shadow’s thoughts swirled, and he felt wrong. The giggling became laughter, and the laughter grew louder. It reminded him of something, and suddenly the enraged Reverend's face went cold. He dropped Trist, and walked over to the mask. It was similar to the one they had stuffed him in as a boy. Vision blurred out, and he put the mask on.
Trist couldn’t move, and was too weak to talk. Shadow slid his feet to the dining table, and snatched a pen. He walked slow toward Trist, and hunched down to look him in the face, “Sweet dreams.”
Reverend plunged the pen in Trist’s neck, and watched.
First convulsion, then heavy breathing.
The moon was snuffed out.
Bio/CharList/RpList
Mike (the mouse of bones with no head) woke, and his skeleton churned out a cry. The echo perked his brother’s ears, and they appeared at his side soon enough. Gary knew that Mike had fought with nightmares lately, and Robbie; Well, Robbie just wanted to hear another scary story about the kid who killed Mike.
Gary came up, but his brother of bones rattled only at an internal image. Robbie didn’t participate in the slow assault though, and barreled in, “Watcha doin Mikey?”
Mike jumped, and his rib cage cast a roar.
Both of his kin stepped back; there was something different about their brother. Gary tried to soothe the mood, “Maybe we all just need to bring ourselves down a bit, and talk about it; ok?”
The skeletal remains barked, “He wears one eye, but doesn’t spy.”
Gary’s curiosity peaked, with the simultaneous display of Robbie’s stupidity, “Why doesie wear an eye?”
“He wears two dolls upon his hands, but both made quite different demands.”
Gary now found the footing in words BEFORE Robbie ruined it again, “What demands does this person make?”
Mike was on autopilot; a dead body, possessed. “The dolls, they do dangle, and they tangle round your neck. They choke, and choke, until your humanity becomes..”
“Becomes what?” Robbie pushed; both confused, and a little amazed. He didn’t have the self-awareness level needed to know the difference. The dark of the night was on the science, but the moon lit Mike with a dull glow.
“The PuppetMaster comes when you attempt to pull strings, and takes you deep into the forest of dreams!”
Gary stumbled backwards, “M-Mike, come on man, I kn-know you’re in there.”
Robbie’s idea was better; he ran.
“Mike, I know you can hear me, please let’s just talk about what is going on…right now?” Gary was still apprehensive, and Mike’s irrationality grew with every question.
He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to tell stories, he didn’t want to exist. He didn’t want them to exist. Mike growled, and the moon was snuffed out.
Part 2 of 2
By, Revvie
*Past*
Whaty’s face burned red, and his frustration grew by the bushel. He couldn’t find it; a VERY specific dream journal. A nightmare conjured him up from bed this morning; he could still hear the giggle, and feel blood between his toes.
It was one he remembered having before, which in his experience was rare. Though; all Jed’s experiences were rare; diagnosed with a range of mental illness, he was an oddity in health community.
“What ya looking for?”
The speaker was Bart, and Bart was (as he put it) “of the fallen Fae.” He was a pint-sized person but he wasn’t beautiful, or whimsical. Bart was kind of like the aroma of someone breaking wind in a car, and that fear to confront the unknown someone with the issue.
Bart’s skin was grey, and scaled. His wings were tattered, and the fact they kept his Buddha belly upright was an amazement in itself. His looks may have been less than grand, but the unkempt ways of his friend Whaty, were more so.
Jed threw his notebooks chaotically, and forced the fairy to dodge. Bard was just to land on his shoulder.
“Dude, least let me help ya. This place will be a mess, if ya don’t quit it.” Bart laughed with sarcasm.
Whaty’s rampaged continued through the room, “I-I-It has t-t-t-to be here!”
“What does?”
Jed had moved onto his dresser, and pulled his current journal. He flipped till he found the page, and then pressed a crudely drawn image into Bart’s view.
“No, you had another dream about him? But-but I thought you were dreaming about that kid; ya know the one.” Fear filled his pupils, and Bart blurted the truth, “I burned it…”
Whaty dropped the journal, and eyes descended on his fairy friend. He was beyond pissed. The thought of yelling only increased irritation, because his stutter threw off any attempt at intimidation.
“Listen, I think I am just going to go hang out somewhere else for a bit; let you chill out.” Bart slowly flapped back towards the door, and then vanished with a puff of powder.
“Damnit!” Whaty stormed over to his desk, and hopped into the chair. He tried frustration, anger, but no WORD would do. The thrust of situation bared its teeth. The Puppet Master was here.
_______________________
The second after Jason vacated, Master David dwelled on what transpired. Not because it was the first time he faced a skeptic, and not because he was the first student. The thing that startled him was the quickness at which Jason swallowed it all.
Questions continued for a short time, but they ceased once David got to one of his favorite speeches. After, Jason was putty, and the Master began to mold.
When the nothingness resolved, the only thing left was the void, Jason, and David. But then David felt that dip, and the void pulled Jason in; welcomed him home. This was what didn’t settled well in him.
It didn’t need to settle; air broke through the door again; Kara came in. She didn’t wear a smile, nor a smirk, and her face didn’t pander gratitude. No, Kara looked pissed, and her eyes were set to smite David to dust.
The silence broke, “What the hell did you do to him?”
David gave a puzzled glance, and then sighed, “The same as always.”
“No, no no no no no no no. Something was
ing different, and you damn well know it!” Kara’s polar shift didn’t surprise David, but it put his nerves knots. David stood up from his usual stance, and stretched his legs. “Listen,” the Master’s voice sung with sincerity, “I noticed it too, and have sought deep for an answer, but I am afraid one doesn’t track this way.”
He may have thought it a viable response, but she didn’t take it that way. “What in the
ing are you talking about? Do you really think I am just going to let something like—you know what? you then! See if I come back.”Kara turned, and retreated. However; David stopped her cold with his next words, “I don’t have the answers, and I wish I did. I am trying--no, I am working on—the truth is, I am sorry. That is all I can give you.”
Master broke character, and Kara could only see David now. Part of her wanted to forgive him, and embrace him. The side that currently contained her, left her wanting to maim the man who destroyed another being.
Kara’s protective ways had already sliced through Jason earlier that day, and now she scoped David. “Please, if you must, then leave.”
She didn’t hold out, and left David there to sulk. Kara didn’t care about his apologies, and the only thing that dwelled was fear of what happened to Jason.
______________________
Jason sat solemn, and his arms bled into water; water into wine. His perceived life slipped to the void, but a dream consumed him before he could fall. It was a nightmare that couldn’t be eluded.
The backdrop of his bathroom peeled from the walls. Jason’s being stood from his body, and that too slipped from sight. Only one thing could be seen now, and that is all IT ever wanted.
The teen could make out the thing, as it crept closer with an odd gait. Its body bulb like, and its neck caused Jason to think of giraffe’s at the zoo. The head carried a mask with an eye painted on it.
When in complete eyeshot; Jason saw the final piece to the horrifying mass. Two hands, with gangly fingers, strapped with wooden puppets. Both were bare boned, and had no color or costume; Faceless.
Faceless puppets approached, and jangled round. Its long neck leaned low, and he could hear a faint laughter beneath the creature’s façade. The masked head cocked to the left, then to the right; giggling got louder.
Sweat welled up on Jason’s body, and he went wet with tears. Its laughter rose, even as the head backed away. Then the puppets danced; one for each eye. Their rhythm bounced to the tune of the void.
Jason followed their every jerk, and his lids lulled. He was asleep, but no; he was awake? It was all fuzzy to him, and then came pain.
Pain that shot through his spine, and ran to his head; a scream for help. Reality started to fade in, and the blur gave way to hospital security. Two of them subdued him now, and the one on his back slipped a bite guard mask on; while another strapped on a jacket.
Jason didn’t fight, but his body ached like he had. As they pulled the sleeve over his left arm he could see something. His wounds had scabbed; almost scarred. Time had lapsed, and the teen’s head spun with confusion.
He couldn’t remember.
_____________________
*Present*
It was the groove of the Long Beach Dub All-Stars' "Fugazi" that got Penny in the mood. It was chill, had a nice flow, and something about it that just made her feel so right.
The Velocity Girl walked across her apartment on bare feet, taking the time to really shrug her shoulder and just jive along with the song, which is something the girl hadn't done in a while. Penny took the blunt from her ashtray, and leaned back, taking a nice hit that got her coughing.
Aww yeah, the girl was going to get comfortably baked tonight and not do a damn thing. Could there by anything more perfect?
“DING DING”, the doorbell wailed.
Penny stopped where she was and slumped her shoulders. "Who the hell could that be?"
With joint still in hand, Penny kept one eye open as she peered through the keyhole. "Oh, it's just you!"
Penny grinned and opened the door, and bowed to her guest. "Welcome to Casa Del Shannon: Where the ganja never ends and all the girls just keeping on coming and coming and coming... Yeah."
The Reverend attempted a smile, but it came off a smirk, "Well, I need to get lit the
up."He melted into the person he had become with Penny, and it was someone he enjoyed being. With her it came easy; with her he could just exist in the space and not be asked for something. I guess that didn’t quite swing both ways, as he was always asked her for smoke.
"Is there any place in here we can hotbox?" Shadow just walked in, right by Penny.
Penny took another hit off her joint, and nodded towards her bedroom door. "Step into my office."
Walking ahead of Shadow, Penny swung the door to her tiny bedroom open. Well, there really wasn't any easier way of putting it: It looked like kind of bedroom that could only belong to a girl like Penny.
There were candles everywhere and, with the exception of several small spaces of nothing but white paint, the walls were covered up in a bunch of pictures and graffiti that was obviously made with a single Sharpie. Her mattress sat on the lower left side, covered with drapes and shawls of many types; forming a cone around it that made it look more like a cocoon than a tent.
Penny walked over to one of the beanbags she kept at the end of the room, and plopped herself down. She reached for her bong, and the Sailor Moon lunchbox she kept her stash in.
"Make yourself comfy, dude."
Reverend loved the ambiance, and let his body fall to one of the beanbags. It reminded him of being a kid (well; the part that he had got to be one). He looked around at all the little details, and then eventually his friend, "I am sorry to be so damn pushy, but all this crap lately."
He paused.
"I just wish Trist would get off my damn back about this Lauren thing, and I wish Lauren would get off my back about trying to help me." Shadows candor knew no limits when it came to Penny; emotion bubbled.
Penny loaded him a bowl, and passed the bong. "It's all good, dude. If it helps, I'm not having the easiest time right now either. It's not a particularly good time in both our lives."
The flame touched, sizzled, bubbled, and then Shadow gave way to a large inhale. Coughing came, and large billows of smoke followed. Rev wheezed, "What is going on, on your end?" He passed the bong, and pushed the question.
"For reasons I am contractually obligated not to explain." Penny yanked the bong from Reverend's hand, and shifted it between her legs. "I had to turn against my best-friend, do you know what kind of stupid existentialistic crap it's doing to me right now? Really not cool, it's like being fifteen all over again!"
Penny flicked her lighter on and, the moment the fire turned up, she titled the flame towards the open bowl. She took a couple puffs, to get the smoke just the way she liked, before taking it all in; the bubbles danced in symphony.
Penny drew her head away, and tried to hold in all that smoke until she eventually submitted to a small cough. "Why does it always have to suck whenever I decided to do something for myself?"
"Because we are destined for better things, and one has to burn away the edges of their self to find what they want."
Shadow laughed.
"Then again, that could just be the smoke talking." This could have been true on a number of a levels. Shadow took another hit, and the room flooded with fog. The ambiance dissolved to clouds of cannabis.
"It's the smoke talking." Penny chuckled, taking the bong from Shadow.
Penny exhaled a large cloud of smoke, and felt her eyes felt all heavy and sleepy. "I love you dude, but sometimes I don't think I get half of the crap you talk about. I hear it, I can kinda understand it, but I always have to give myself a second to stop and remember what you just said. It's like listening to you say the same thing twice."
"I suppose I can’t blame you, I don’t know what I am saying half the damn time either." Shadow thought for a second, and then his mind wandered away, "Did I tell you, Lauren said she was my daughter? I can't remember, but I know Trist knows. His ass has been on me since. That and this new title, which he thinks would be better pawned off."
Reverends lips were loose, and his troubles flowed. Well that, and the immense amount of smoke that now enveloped them. The tiny swirls catered to images of galaxies.
Penny passed the bong over to Shadow and leaned back on the beanbag, and allowed herself to slope down to her carpeted floor. "What do you think? You really her dad?"
"I don’t know. She wants to talk about, talk about her mother. I just keep avoiding it, and am not sure I really want to know. I am not even sure it would matter to me if she wasn’t; it would be more family than I have had in a long time."
He dwelled in that thought, sinking to its depths.
"She wants to help, and seems sincere. Trist keeps telling me she is using me, but I don’t see now. I don’t know. I am a goddamn mess." With that word, he grabbed up the bong, took a long hit, and held it tight. His eyes rolled back, and it felt good to breathe out; head rush. Reverend may have felt exhausted, but tried to keep himself in the conversation, "What would you do?"
"I'd talk to her, dude." Penny replied, sighing as she sank lower into the carpet. "Like I can see where Trist is coming from, but I'd get to know her and try to sort it all out. It's going to mess with your head if you don't, you know."
The good Revered was asleep now. He was too damn tired, and now it would take nightmare to bring him too.
Penny grabbed one of the blankets on the floor and covered him. Penny felt herself warm up into a really soft smile, as she looked down upon him. Despite all the hellfire and brimstone, there was this unseen sweetness in Shadow that just came out in the way he slept. He just looked so peaceful, content, and adorably comfortable; even as he turned on his side, and cuddled himself against the beanbag.
"Soft Revvie, Warm Revvie, little ball of pain," Penny sang, "Angry Revvie, Killer Revvie...
….pur, pur, pur."
___________________
Lauren’s pocket vibrated, but she didn’t even bother to remove the phone to look. She knew exactly who was calling; Slinn or one of his many lackeys, and didn’t care to talk to either. Her mind was clear, and her sense of vision focused on one thing; helping her dad. Though “help” might have been a loose word for it.
Shadow’s daughter carried herself into an old hospital records building. They stored away their old paper files, and only some of those were ever transferred over to computer. They also housed a number of things that lost use, or were simply forgotten about.
Only four people ever came in, and all four worked there; alternating. Lauren knew one of them; an older gentlemen who simply went by the name, David. He was night-shift. She didn’t come there to chat, and she had only by chance met David at the library. No, it was always business, and he always obliged; for a bit of money.
Lauren made her way up to the front desk where David was reading one of his many odd books. His eyes popped from the top, and he lowered it to revealed a smile, “Well, well, another look at Jed’s notebooks, eh?”
“Not exactly,” she hesitated, “I need more than that this time, I need to take a couple items with me.”
“Ah I see, well I suppose more should require more, am I right?”
Lauren frowned, but she had prepared for it. She laid an envelope on the desk, “A grand, it’s the best I can do.”
David smiled, nodded, and then buzzed the locked door next to him, “Be careful Miss Lauren.” She didn’t understand the sentiment, but she rarely did with David.
Lauren decided not to worry about, and opened the door to the storage hall. Numerous rooms were filled to the brim with whatever
ing thing they wanted; no organization. Luckily, she had found the pile for the old Anderson Children’s Mental Hospital (ACMH). Most of it was useless junk, but she had found three boxes of boy’s notebooks; his name was Jedidiah. Apparently he had known her father when they were boys, and with every read over; she began to understand the Reverend.
Didn’t matter, the last notebook she read talked about a time when Shadow was at his most violent. Something about a nightmare creature, and Jed had drawn both. Rough sketches of her young father in bite guard mask, and another of the creature that haunted him (that was how Jed had made it sound with his words).
If Reverend hoped to beat the mask legend at Revolution, and for Lauren to continue with her treatment (and personal goals), she needed a way to reawaken what she had sought to stabilize. With Shadow, it always felt like two steps forwards, followed by a leap backwards off a cliff. She needed that mask. Shadow’s was easily triggered by nostalgia, and the rest would settle itself.
Lauren only sifted through a few boxes before she found one of the old bite guards. To think of her father in it made her sick. A history of violence one was of his many issues, and one of the many things wrestling temporarily harnessed.
She slipped it in a bag she brought with her, but she wasn’t done. Lauren snatched up the notebook that contained the sketches, and circumstances. Jed had intimate knowledge of Shadow at that age, and Lauren knew she might need a reference.
The items were secured, and she took leave of the storage area. David wasn’t at his desk when she came out, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to disappear like that.
Lauren walked out, and into the night.
_____________________
The smoke-filled room had caused Shadow to fall to a slumber. It was there that a familiar giggle echoed the annals of his mind. He ran, as an old hospital hall manifested; endless.
Reverend ran on, and on. His breath quickened, as the laughter raptured behind his head. The Puppet Master was coming and, even though no escape was possible, Shadow was damn sure going to try.
Then the hall halted, and all the doors slammed and locked. Shadow slowly turned to see the creature of his past. A giggle bounced from its mask, and a jiggle resonated through its fingers.
Shadow found no way out, and could only wait till IT reached him, and reached IN him. He remembered how he woke up last time, and black outs that had become a staple in his teen years.
When the creature caught up, it did has it had before. The long neck lowered, and met face to face with the painted eye; it cackled. Walls melted around them, and the void became their home again. Reverend smiled this time, and the fear fell from his bones.
Then the puppets danced dance, and moved hypnotically; bouncing to the tune of the void. The beat was cut off by a final giggle of the mask, but this time he didn’t fall to it; he bowed. This time it needn’t lull his lid, but instead he shut them.
This time; he wanted it.
_________________
Shadow’s eyes peeled back. He couldn’t remember the return to the motel room, but he could tell it was his bed. A lump under his pillow caused discomfort, which in turn caused investigation.
A mask.
The mask.
His shock came without words, but he lobbed the bite guard across the room; nearly clipped Trist; still glued to his videogames. However; this was more than enough get his attention, “What the
ing hell man?”Shadow didn’t say a word. He removed the covers, and himself from bed. He continued moving toward the kitchen, then the fridge, and swallowed up three bottles of water before he acknowledged Trist. Which amounted to a glare, and passive frustration, “What was that doing under my pillow?”
“How the hell should I know,” Trist paused his game, and stood up, “You’re the lunatic; remember?”
“I am not playing games here!” Reverend’s tone tasted sour.
Trist didn’t care, “Wouldn’t give a crap if you were, I didn’t bring that thing in here. Hell; if you want to know what I have been doing. I was looking for your stupid ass belt again.”
Shadow noted the sincerity, but the anger didn’t recede, “What do I keep
ing telling you about leaving my crap alone!” The good Reverend raged toward Trist, grabbed his scrawny body, and tossed him at a wall. Trist cried as he fell to the floor before Shadow.
Trist got up on his knees, “Plea-,” and Rev. connected with a hard knee to the nose.
Shadow mocked him, “Please what? Huh? I tried asking nicely for things at a time, and instead was thrown into situations I needn’t be in..BY YOU!” Shadow shouted, and landed a kick to his Trist’s gut.
“I-I am,” and another of Reverend’s boots pounded the poor man. Shadow didn’t care about whatever the
he thought, or had to say. He picked Trist up by the collar and pressed him against the wall. Blood escaped the beaten man’s lips, but something was wrong; a smile. Trist smiled at Shadow, and the grin caused a fist to the face.
Trist coughed up a bit of blood, and then grinned with crimson teeth. Shadow, again, put a punch to the beak. It didn’t change the smile, grin, smirk; it didn’t change the GIGGLE.
Shadow’s thoughts swirled, and he felt wrong. The giggling became laughter, and the laughter grew louder. It reminded him of something, and suddenly the enraged Reverend's face went cold. He dropped Trist, and walked over to the mask. It was similar to the one they had stuffed him in as a boy. Vision blurred out, and he put the mask on.
Trist couldn’t move, and was too weak to talk. Shadow slid his feet to the dining table, and snatched a pen. He walked slow toward Trist, and hunched down to look him in the face, “Sweet dreams.”
Reverend plunged the pen in Trist’s neck, and watched.
First convulsion, then heavy breathing.
The moon was snuffed out.
