Fandom furtive chase. || weiirdw0lf & virely

[weiirdw0lf]

‎the ghostface.

;; danny

It'd been a while since anyone had really caught Danny's eye during his time here in the realm. Sure, he often got... well, obsessed is what anyone else might call it, with certain people now and then. Not in a romantic sense, no. Far from it. Fixated in the way he would get on some article he'd been working on way back then, or tracking down the details of a potential victim. That need to know things -- once he'd seen someone and just knew that they'd be a part of some new design of his.

Or, in this case, spotting some new survivor and immediately being intrigued for whatever reason.

He had a bad habit of 'accidentally' wandering too far from the killer's designated side of the woods, and closer to the survivor's campfire. (Of course, it wasn't really an accident, but he'd say it was if he got caught.) He did this a lot when he was bored, whether with the other killers or just bored of doing the same thing over and over every day. Trials only were so much fun -- they lost their entertainment when the survivors got too used to what you were doing, or when you saw the same faces every time. Funny how he thought upon being sent to this place that it was basically a dream come true for someone like him. Being able to kill with no consequences, even kill the same people multiple times. It was, in a way, but that didn't mean he didn't get tired of it now and then.

So here Danny stood, peering out between the trees. There weren't too many people around the fire -- perhaps off doing other things or in the cabins he'd found out were scattered amongst the woods too.

There was, however, someone he didn't recognize sitting there.

A new arrival? Normally the only way the killers found out about these things is if a new killer showed up on their side as well, or if they were sent to a trial and it was a brand new place, or of course if they saw someone new during it too. Sometimes only a survivor would show up, sometimes multiple. Or sometimes only a killer and no survivors. Danny presumed it was the first thing, as he hadn't seen anyone he didn't know over on their side.

He was too far to actually hear anything anyone was talking about, unfortunately. Probably the same old 'trying to explain to people that you're stuck here and have to die over and over every day for the rest of your... life(?)' routine. He'd heard it before. Well, from other survivors explaining it to each other. The killers didn't exactly have the same thing. He can't recall if he ever got anything explained to him at all, actually. Might've just been left to figure it out himself. Of course, it's not exactly surprising the survivors would be more social than them.

Guess he wasn't finding out anything interesting from them tonight. But as he was about to just turn around and head back the other way, he realized the ever present fog had begun to creep in closer, had grown thicker than usual. That only meant one thing. A trial was probably going to start soon.

He watched it swirl around his feet -- it almost seemed as if it was a living thing, and perhaps it was. Some had noticed it seemed to do this, gather around those who were being picked for a trial. Danny figured it was his turn again then.

...He hoped he'd see that new face there too. It was about time he had someone new to toy with.

coded by reveriee.

 

[virely]

• 1
• 2

• .
• location

  the fire
  
  

  outfit

  TCM shirt, dark washed jeans
  
  

  tags

  danny, meg, rebecca
  
  see?

code by opaline

EVAN.

❛SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST.❜

Being birthed by the night seemed the most modest way to put what Evan Myers felt in that moment.

The familiar pins-and-needles prickle of Habit's microscopic nails digging into his brain had melted away as fast as they had moved in -- the numbing, complacent feeling of his own racing thoughts blending into the murmurs of black around him. It hadn't had a grasp on him for long, and with the way the mist possessively hummed and hawed while clinging to his clothes something told him there was a small disagreement in the spontaneous change of location thrust into his face. The clouds of pine pollen swirled over the plush grass beneath his feet as Evan's nose wrinkled, swatting the fog away in disdain. Evan's hands hovered over the air where the battered leather chair he'd been vacated from previously stayed, hesitating to dust off his shirt.

"Hey, listen. I'm tired of your horseshit," the exasperated rasp of his voice couldn't contain the gentle waver buried within, "what'd you do to Vinny?" Something in his mind protested Evan's idiotic pawing at any useless straws his mind had come up with. This wasn't even Pennsylvania, not anymore -- wherever it was, it reeked. Of rotting flesh and a poor campfire, to be frank.

"Don't know who Vinny is, but I'm sure we'll have one here eventually."

Evan damn near leapt out of his own skin, a feeling he was unfortunately not unfamiliar with. "Really? Really. If you couldn't tell, I'm not from here. The stick up your ass has to be a golden staff to do that." Evan bit each word before hissing them out, clearly not upset with the redhead, but unnerved nonetheless as he kicked out the numbness in his foot. By this point, Evan wasn't entirely sure if this was one of his dreams that blended with his real life or not.

She rolled her eyes with a mouth-parting scoff, tossing the tattered braids back over her shoulder. "I'd deserve that with how many times it's been my job to do this." Turning, she ambled down a paved path with a practiced nimbility. 'Still don't know what you're talkin' about.' Weighing his options with a sore, struggled turn of his head over his shoulder into the abyss behind him, Evan furrowed his brow and set his path on the woman ahead. A habitual brushing of his hair made him groan. Hat. There's no hat on his head. The grow-out phase wasn't his favourite appearance to put on to show strangers.

The comforting crackle and pop wriggled through the leaves like thousands of snakes through the needles of pine. The hushed glow of amber stretched its arms out to him from a distance rapidly narrowing in, the hair of the elusive lady blending in as she broke the tree barrier.

"I've given you the mercy of sparing a welcoming party. Only Meg, your treat." She, Meg, forced a grin and spread her arms wide before letting them loudly slap back to her sides. Evan had run out of things to say. Hell, he didn't know how to even begin to ask. "You're going to die a lot, but not really die. You get taken to survive a series of trials and tasks, per se," something in her eyes shifted as she watched something in the corner of her eye with buckets of concern, "butyou'rerunningoutoftimesojustremembergetthelightsondon't--" Meg was abruptly cut off as she rushed to back up from the smog rapidly returning once again, with a degree of greediness that wasn't even present in his arrival.

Red. Red rushed in to drown the black with the viscosity of congealed blood, embracing him with the sound of glasses cleaner and the coughing of an old man. Evan was reduced to the boy he was over a decade ago, shivering in the empty parking lot with lifeless cars under dead streetlights, waiting to be adopted by another foster family. The once readied pose he held back at the relaxing fire was replaced with a shrewd anger; with eyes of fire and fists balled with the strength of iron, a cold sweat and shake in his lip teased the innate fury he told himself to feel. The caboose-turned-food-truck lay without a calm line of churchgoers, the rusting bridge heaved with the weight of colourful scrap pallets, and the log cabin puffed smoke out with nobody to enjoy the loved food cooked within. Even the fire-engine painted barn was dulled and peeling. What lay within now, Evan didn't want to find out. He shuffled his feet at the sound of hushed voices, considering what he could do in yet another new place.

 

[weiirdw0lf]

‎the ghostface.

;; danny

When the darkness that had overtaken his vision eventually receded, and that strange almost falling but not quite feeling had dissipated, Danny found himself standing in a place he also didn't recognize at all.

Blinking and looking around, he almost mistook the building he was near for another -- it seemed like it was a barn, though perhaps turned into something else once upon a time as it wasn't filled with the remnants of animals or the like that that other place had, not that he could see right now. So, not a farm. It also seemed slightly dimmer here than that realm. There it was bright, unlike back in the woods where night seemed eternal.

No, as he began to walk around, he noted that this was in fact not that other place at all. Somewhere totally new. Slightly more... modern, maybe? than the one he was thinking of. But this made sense, what with him seeing that new survivor back there as well. The Entity seemed to often... replicate places they knew here, killers and survivors alike. Danny never got that treatment. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. It would've been nice maybe to have a place of his own, but he didn't have time to think about that right now.

He had one thing to do here. And that was kill.

Knife in hand as always, he stalked around the edge of the building, not yet going inside. There was a bridge off to the side, and if he turned back around, a parking lot and a couple smaller buildings slightly further away. Hm. This place seemed a bit different than any of the other ones he'd come across before, but he wasn't sure why. (Familiar, a little voice in the back of his head said, but he had no idea why that would be.) Maybe he was imagining it.

He decided to head towards what looked like a little log cabin, thinking that there might've been either a generator or survivor inside -- or if he was lucky, both.

As he made his way over, he heard the familiar whispering of the Entity in his mind -- mostly unintelligible to him, but probably signaling how he was now more hidden, more stealthy than usual. Unless someone looked directly at him, he'd found. It didn't take him long upon arriving in the realm and having a few trials to figure out that all killers had been granted powers of sorts -- he didn't think he needed his, if he was being honest. He'd near perfected the art of being stealth back in his former life. Surely without any 'assistance' he'd have gotten by just fine.

Something was telling him that someone was over here. Who, he wasn't sure. He hadn't seen anyone just yet, but--

There. Someone's footsteps, quiet but nearby. Danny crouched low near the side of the building, fingers twitching around the handle of his blade. Whoever it was, they'd better be ready for a surprise. If it really was that new survivor like he'd been hoping for, they were in for a hell of a ride with him being the first killer they were facing.

coded by reveriee.

 

[virely]

EVAN MYERS

M

emory Town. Good ol' Pennsylvania. His nose wrinkled into a scoff at the memory, swinging his head to and fro before entering the only place he knew: Pocono Hotel, lying a minimal distance from the empty barnhouse. Each soft press of his tattered runners into the golf course-plucked grass warranted alarm balls ringing back and forth in Evan's head -- as if the severe headache wasn't enough sadism from this place. The door to the suite whined and stuttered, as if a desperate protest against Evan's actions, but ultimately gave way to a cloud of mothballs and pine sap. "Eugh," Evan huffed and waved a hand in front of his face -- fervently pulling the neck of his t-shirt over his nose and mouth -- exposing the gleam of his belt buckle in the vanity mirror's reflection. Or lack thereof, with the dust blanketing the room.

What he noticed first was a complete lack of doors in the interior. The frames rested hingeless in the embrace of the walls, and as Evan went to pull the door close, he froze in alarm. Whipping his head back in a cascade of brunette, Evan tugged at the ajar door, which had no longer given relief to his demands. The doorknob hadn't even twisted. "Fuck me." Pulling his hand off the doorknob and swiping the rust onto his tattered dark jeans, the young man bit his lip. No, he wasn't idiotic enough to wheedle and cry out for any sign of life like most would in his C-rated film-esque scenario, but this was seriously getting real shitty.

The fiery girl's dark eyes swam in his ache-addled consciousness. "getthelightson-" The panicked almost-instruction echoed in Evan Myers' head as his eyes landed on a faintly humming power generator in the corner of the room, another one of those coloured palettes leading to a completely open window to a new room resting a few meters away. Casting one last uncertain look over his shoulder, Evan kicked a nail jutting from one of the floorboards before giving in to the curiosity of the machine's innards, pulling and twisting until a piston began inching towards a steady pattern.

coded by xayah.ღ

 

[weiirdw0lf]

‎the ghostface.

;; danny

Whoever it was Danny had heard -- or thought he'd heard -- near the cabin evidently either managed to escape him, or never was there at all. Shaking his head, he ended up heading back across the lot to what seemed to be the main building of this place, or at least one of them. Both where he was headed now and the barn seemed to be more in the center.

Still not being noticed by anyone (if he had, the Entity would've alerted him to that the same way she did with everything else to do with his powers), he peered in one of the broken windows of the barn as he passed it again. Either no one in there, or whatever survivors were in this trial were getting better at hiding than he was.

The sound of a generator being worked on made him turn his head; now that he was closer, this building seemed to be one where people would've stayed. At least, in whatever lifetime before it had come from. Danny couldn't say for sure. At least he knew someone was over here now, though. Finally.

This time he didn't crouch, but peered in through the doorway. The door was ajar, as if someone either didn't bother to close it or maybe couldn't at all. Things were weird in the trial grounds.

...Ah. There he is. Danny had known this one would be in this trial somehow. Maybe whatever this place was, was somewhere he had known before being taken. That's usually how it went.

The survivor's back was to him, so Danny couldn't make out much in terms of his appearance, but from the hair and outfit he seemed to be the one Danny had seen back near the fire before the trial had begun. Danny wondered if he'd try and fight him when he got his hands on him. Sometimes the new ones did, not just with him but with other killers. Thinking they had a chance at anything but running. Those hopes would be crushed soon enough. There was no escaping this place. Escaping these trials, sure, but that was about it.

He unsheathed his knife, sitting at his side in his belt, ready to sneak into the room and strike here in a moment. Hopefully he wasn't noticed...

coded by reveriee.

 

[virely]

EVAN MYERS

W

aves. A floodgate poured open behind his eyes, and Evan bristled, the back of his neck blooming with beads of cold sweat. What sounded almost like the wriggling of flags on a celebration-plump July afternoon wafted through the ground-floor room, waves of whispers rolling over his shoulders and hair like the fog that had been whisking him here and there. The sudden sensation of preparation, of stalking -- unnoticeable to most but intimately familial to him due to his past circumstances -- made the wires slip in the slightly calloused grasp they'd nestled into.

The unceremonious explosion tore a pained growl from Evan, biceps flexing as his forearms reared to protect his face from the pouring sparks. The machine quite literally coughed on him, shuddering as the pistons stilled themselves. All his progress fucking gone, in an ugly instant. 'I really don't know what I'm even-'

Evan's train of thought was cut off. Yet another redhead -- this time with a tangled mane of shiny coils, much bolder than the coppery tones Meg bore. She looked into Evan's eyes with the face of a fawn on a highway. The innocent sort of fear made his lip twitch; the expression wasn't unfamiliar. Some degree of subtlety guided Evan's hands to his sides, the girl didn't seem to mean to harm.

"Aw, another soulless to chew me out?" Evan tried making light of his apparent failure, seeing her eyes fall to his shirt with one of the most severe glares he'd seen yet. He gulped sorely. "Sorry. I'm new, haven't worked one of these things yet. Need a car to push? I can do that."

"Change your shirt."

"What?"

"Get a new shirt from someone after this. Mikaela," her eyes lift from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre graphic, casting a darting glance to his rust-coated hand, turning to the generator instead. "I can take care of this. Look for someone hurt, alright?" Mikaela offers a half-smile, clearly on edge, but not offering Evan an explanation. He hovered. '...She seems to be a do-it-wrong or do-it-yourself-right person. Maybe I should scram. But where?'

Lifting a curious gaze to the door frame, Evan awkwardly saluted her, not receiving an acknowledgement as he jogged out the door. If he squinted, he could make out the rent-a-barn the poor churchtown flaunted. Sorry excuse of a thing. He could vaguely remember hearing about one of the other kids trying to burn it down. Evan hesitantly stepped outside in a half-crouch, seeing another generator in the distance, but ignoring the poisonous temptation and making a break across the field. It was open to the thick treeline, swathed in fog, completely invisible for anything and anyone who'd watch him with the eyes and appetite of a wolf.

coded by xayah.ღ

 

[weiirdw0lf]

‎the ghostface.

;; danny

Danny listened in to the conversation from nearby. Mikaela -- he recognized her, at least -- entered the building now, and the two of them seemed to... well, not be getting along might not be entirely accurate. The one on the generator (or who had been, Danny hadn't missed him messing it up. Had he realized he was there?) clearly wasn't happy about being here, that much he could tell. And then Mikaela... made a comment about his shirt? Huh. Danny couldn't see the front of it from here. Was there something that bad on it? It made him want to laugh, really, hearing them talking about that kind of thing while they had no idea he was nearby.

Then Mikaela told the other to leave, which he seemed to obey. Running out the building across the field, to which Danny saw it was his turn to run, to chase after someone finally. The trial had just started not long ago, but he'd still been itching to get his hands (or knife) on one of them. The longer he went without spilling blood here, the more progress the survivors made. And that's not what he wanted at all. Even if he did want to stop this one in his tracks and maybe talk to him instead.

...Ok, 'talk' wasn't the right word. Taunt was more like it. If he spoke during trials, that was typically what he did. Despite stealth being his whole thing, he'd often toy with the survivors that way too when they noticed him. It was fun, he couldn't help it! Sometimes they didn't expect it and looked even more confused or scared, sometimes they got mad and spit insults back at him. The latter usually got hooked sooner than later.

When the new survivor went running off, Danny decided to make his presence known. Maybe not a smart idea when he could still be watching, hidden away, but he felt the urge and took a chance. This one seemed like one who'd fight. He hadn't had anyone like that recently. Most of them got used to his games after seeing him so many times. Boring. But this one was new. That's why he was going after him specifically. Mikaela back there might've been an easier target, but he wasn't worried about her or the other two he still hadn't seen at the moment.

Darting to hide momentarily behind something or other -- perhaps one of the cars sitting idle in the lot near the grass -- he jumped back out when he saw the other get closer, intending to scare him. Maybe he could actually catch him off guard and stab him once.

"Going somewhere?" He called out, voice low but loud enough for the one he was after to hear.

coded by reveriee.

 

[virely]

EVAN MYERS

E

yeless was the face that shot out in front of him. Evan's guard had been lowered by the seeming lack of threat back at the hotel suite, Mikaela being nothing more than a possum you'd find in the bins, armed with a gun and a bat late at night. Earlier, in his crossing, he'd seen a stocky man with shock-white hair ruffling around in the throes of an old box. Now Evan wished he'd stopped by for a hello.

"What the fuck?" Evan hissed out at the cape-and-cowled man, wielding a wicked Bowie with a curve that mirrored the arching frown paving his brows down his nose like a river. "Hey, hey," one arm lifted in front of him to form any sort of barrier between him and the person in front of him, Evan's voice remained steady and assertive, "I really don't know why I'm here. Certainly any why doesn't warrant any that." His hand shot out to point at their knife. Evan backed up a step, letting his right leg naturally fall behind him. The self-defence video now felt ironic.

'Well, any me doesn't warrant that. That other thing can do with a good socking with a sharp object.'

The other guy wasn't backing up. Evan, not being able to read any eye movements or tricks of the face, suddenly rolled into motion. With a setting of his shoulder and a roll of his hips to twist himself, Evan cracked one of the hardest punches he'd mustered into the small lip where the mask was secured to their balaclava. Knife fights will suck, and you'll get cut. You'll probably die. Probably won't win. He cringed. Evan's own words mocked him in the same way the stars fluttered in the sides of his vision as blood spurted from his knuckles. Resin isn't soft.

Well, second rule: Find something larger than a knife.

Blades of grass didn't quite fit the severity of the situation. Rule 2: Nulled.

"I don't want any more trouble. That's a warning, a'right?" Evan sneered, despite the gleam of concern in his eyes, darting erratically from the knife to the dark semi-circles that he sought semblance of human form within. There was a reasonable distance between the two, but this guy was nimble. It ought to be crossed if he wanted. 'And without trouble,' Evan's mind added gruffly.

coded by xayah.ღ

 

[weiirdw0lf]

‎the ghostface.

;; danny

Exactly how he thought this would play out, really.

Now Danny could actually see this guy's face, see what he looked like. He'd only gotten glimpses at the fire, and back there in the hotel he'd been turned away. Still no name though, but maybe he'd hear that from one of the others, assuming they'd gotten it themselves. Sometimes the new ones like to keep secrets.

"Aw, you don't know why you're here?" He started, tilting his head. No expression could be read behind the mask, but the way he moved taken as almost mocking to most if the voice hadn't given that away already. "That's too bad. If you're looking for someone to help you, you've got the wrong guy."

"I'm here to kill you, I'm afraid."

He wasn't afraid. Not at all. He was excited, if anything. But now that he took another look at this one -- this survivor he'd never seen before up until moments before this trial -- something about him seemed... familiar. Just like this place had when he'd first been whisked away by the fog and into the trial grounds. There was something there maybe in the back of his mind, fleeting, hard to grasp. Like he was trying to remember something from a dream after he'd just woken up. Maybe the Entity had screwed with his memories, or he was just imagining things as he'd contemplated earlier too. Who knows.

He didn't have too much time to dwell on that more before he'd suddenly been punched right in the face. Er, mask, rather. Still hurt, but not as much as it might've if he hadn't been wearing anything over his face. Probably hurt him more than it had hurt Danny. He moved back, reacting on instinct -- but a knife would do more damage than fists ever could, lucky for him.

His eyes briefly flicked down towards the other's shirt then, curious as to what had sparked that interaction before with Mikaela, and-- Oh. Yeah, that'd do it. He huffed out a little laugh at the sight, unable to help himself despite what had just happened moments ago. He didn't really acknowledge it beyond that, however. Just moved right on.

"Hm... you've got fight in you, I'll give you that," Danny said. "That's not going to get you far here though."

Not with him, at least. All it was going to get from him was a knife in the side.

He wondered how much had been explained to him before he'd been sent here to the trial. Probably not much. Sometimes they had longer to be told all the rules and such, other times they were basically thrown in head first and expected not to drown. He had a feeling this time it'd been the latter.

Finally brandishing his blade, Danny was the first to close the distance between them. It wasn't much, which meant that he was able to quickly reach out and slash at the survivor standing there before him. He'd had his arms out still, so Danny probably got him there. It wasn't that deep of a cut and certainly nothing fatal, but it'd do for now, he supposed.

Well, assuming he didn't bolt and give him a run for his money before he could do anything more. Typically the new ones weren't as good at it. Sometimes they were, all hyped on adrenaline and fear clouding their minds, making them do things they wouldn't in any other circumstance. If he'd just thrown a punch at the killer though, Danny only could guess what he had coming for him with this survivor here.

coded by reveriee.

 

[virely]

EVAN MYERS

E

van reeled, nervously looking over his shoulder down the field as something clinked into place, floodlights illuminating the dock facing away from them. Shortly after, the hotel emanated a similar noise, just without any lights bathing where Evan and this man stood. His voice tickled the hairs within his ears in a way that made his shoulders twitch up to them in discomfort every now and again.

Patting his knuckles dry on his jeans with a wince, Evan listened, too pumped full of fear chemicals to really process what his next choice could or should be in an unfamiliar place such as this.

Shuffling back and forth in a defensive almost-circle, Evan’s eyes scoured the entity before him — ah. Hell, he should’ve known. Ghostface, the tv icon. Part of his mind briefly wondered if there was some sort of multiverse here that changed what characters do, considering Meg had said you die multiple times without really doing so. Whatever that could possibly mean. Evan wasn’t too kissy-kissy with the idea of finding out.

“You’re-“ he paused, refusing to let his guard down but allowing the recognition to flash on his face, “you’re one of those goofy guys from the slasher movies. That why you looked at my shirt, too? Is that what’s happening here?”

Suddenly, the knife arced down in a flash of silver, as if he’d brandished the moon in his leather-covered hands momentarily. The hand he’d used to point and put space between the two fell victim to his painful instinct-first reaction; Evan whipped the other one too late as it caught the muscle of his broad forearm, sending the visceral sound of carving flesh into the air. A crow cried out and fluttered free from its dinner as Evan’s shout overshadowed it.

Fire. Fire in his veins was the first thing he could register as his flesh burned with agony, as though he’d taken the claw of a panther and cut his blood loose. It wasn’t deep enough to puncture an artery, but with the meat of his forearm spilling fatty flesh and blood, it might as well have been.

“That’s really.” Evan coughed, cupping his arm, feet pedaling his body backwards.

“That’s really not fucking nice.” With that Evan’s survival instincts kicked in, bolting back to an abandoned wheelbarrow outside of the hotel where he’d hopefully find another assortment of material smashed into a palette’s shape.

Or a crowbar. Or a hunting rifle. Even a shovel. Really, Evan could do with even a schoolhouse ruler right about now.

coded by xayah.ღ

 

[weiirdw0lf]

‎the ghostface.

;; danny

Danny blinked, staring back at the other as he spoke. Goofy was an... interesting choice of word, he thought, but he'd let that slide.

"Movies? No," Danny started. Not in his life, at least. There'd been plenty of movies about similar things, sure, but none about him. He was vaguely aware that some of the other killers here came from places that should've been fictional, but he wasn't one of them. "Suppose you could compare this to that though. Four of you running around scared, trying to escape while one of us hunts you down..."

And then after Danny had managed to cut him, he went off running again, talking about how 'that wasn't nice.' Ha.

"Of course it wasn't." Why would it be? He had no reason to be nice. It was his job here to kill. Was basically his job back then too, if you thought about it.

So, of course, he chased after him still.

If he were looking for somewhere to hide or something to attack him with, Danny wasn't sure he'd find it. Not with him right on his tail. Maybe he'd get lucky and there'd be a pallet or something up here -- Danny himself honestly wasn't sure. Not familiar with this map, and even if this survivor was, he doubted there'd been all these things scattered around in whatever version of it he remembered. The Entity always changed things.

When he got closer again, before the one in front of him could turn back around, he reached out to swipe at him again. If it connected was another story -- surely they were close enough it would? Danny wasn't sure if regretted wasting time talking that he could've just been doing this, but. Too late now. Maybe it'd be worth it in the end... though he hadn't exactly found out anything he wanted to about this one. No name, no story as to why he was here. Probably wouldn't have told it even if Danny asked though. He figured that was something he'd have to pick up by eavesdropping near the campfire again.

coded by reveriee.

 

[virely]

EVAN MYERS

T

he large wheelbarrow narrowed in, and if Evan craned his neck against the cold feeling of blood loss in his body, he could just barely see the mishmash of red and blue plastic over the rusting metal rims.

The fabric on his back caught viciously, loudly ripping a gash down his shirt, crudely nicking the skin on his lower back. Evan's back arched with a biting hiss at the fresh feeling of a new cat scratch. A twist, low and sudden -- Evan dashed through the gap between the wheelbarrow and the wall of the hotel, breath rasping to the tune of the rust grazing the sleeves of his shirt against the wall. The sound of pursuit was behind him now -- faster, eager. No time to think it through. Evan slammed the hunk of material down, listening to it reverberate against the groaning metal, not a care in the world if it could or would even connect as long as it put a wall between him and this Ghostface.

Dusky twilight draped Evan's sweating and heaving form in bruised violets and charcoals, the smell and humidity of old rain clinging to his form like a second skin. There very well was no object providing him with protection that he could pick up, but he had his wits.

"What, gonna chase me around like some dumb rabbit? Home advantage, dick." Evan puffed out a shaking laugh as his lungs wrestled the air back into them. The blood on his arm had slowed to a trickle, but the skin was mangled, and the cut on his back wasn't the kindest he'd received in this lifetime.

He wasn't kidding himself. This wheelbarrow was new, the barn was usually perfectly lit and not damn near disintegrating, and the dock was down farther than it should be. If there were multiple versions of this place, Evan wasn't excited to experience any more of them.

 

[weiirdw0lf]

‎the ghostface.

;; danny

Danny had gotten another attack in, sure, but he'd need more than that to actually be able to throw this one on a hook. Something that'd actually harm, not just hinder. Looks like it wasn't going to be as easy as he had thought. (No, he'd had a feeling he'd have to go through more than usual to actually do his job here. So be it, then.)

When the pallet was slammed down in his face, he staggered back, momentarily stopping his chase -- unfortunate, but these things broke pretty quick, at least. He paused, though, hearing the survivor speak up.

'Home advantage,' huh?

Well. That confirmed one thing Danny had already pretty much knew. But he asked regardless, even if he wasn't going to get an answer.

"Is that so?" He kicked at the pallet, wood splintering beneath his boot. "You know this place?"

A simple question. Yes or no, no need to elaborate if he didn't want. Probably wouldn't answer at all, seeing everything else that had already happened, but worth a shot. Maybe he could get something from the source and not just overhearing it. Couldn't exactly blame him if he didn't want to chitchat with the killer currently on his ass though. Danny was just nosy. He'd find out what he wanted one way or another.

...Right. Two generators had already just sounded, so that was three more left. If Danny kept getting run around, he was going to lose this trial. Three other people working and only one injured -- they'd surely get the rest done fast. He needed to end this already.

Seeing as they were still pretty close to the barn, Danny ran forward past the wheelbarrow and such and attempted to sort of cut the survivor off. Suddenly he'd had him shoved up against the wall of the building, and before he could try and run again, Danny stuck his knife right in his side. Pulling it free after a few more seconds, blood splattered on both his cloak and the other's clothes. Not like Danny wasn't used to that. This one, who knows. Some of them came from more violent histories than others. Nothing like the killers though.

"...That's too bad. Maybe we can talk some other time," Danny offered, grinning behind the mask.

coded by reveriee.