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[video/action] 011001010110111001100100011010000110100101101101
[He makes it to the last day of August before it happens.
His body seizes, fingers curling, back arching, tension clenching every muscle simultaneously in an unbearable, untenable, agonizing roar of overloaded nerves and sensory hell and electrostatic energy fizzling away in his skull in all the wrong, worst ways.
He's fairly certain that he's screaming when it happens. He's certain that he
He
Eyes open. Fingers go to face, trace contours. Unfamiliar. Not stark and white. Missing their Face. Missing direction. Missing everything. They've not been awake in...in so long, they think. Everything locked down, the body unresponsive, unwilling to cede control. Then everything ran dry, they nearly died because he did, and without the means to suppress the mechanism of their return, he - yes. He did. And as he lay there, postictal and still and trembling, they'd slithered in and taken things in their favored direction.
Something new on the floor. They snatch it up, run fingers over it, determine its function. It has a good function. They can work with this. They can send a message. They can find a way to. Require...focus. Focus and shape. Need someone, need something. Won't have this skin to themselves for long. Must make the best of it.
The video assigned to the network is odd and flickering, cut through with bars of intermittent static. White letters flit across the screen as a bizarre, warped tone shrills over the words.]
HAV
EYO
USE
EN?
////////we are alone////////
////////we are alone////////
////////we are alone////////
[The words cut out and so does the background noise. And then, briefly, seconds before the video's conclusion, a tiny line of text flares across the screen:]
aGVscGhlbHBoZWxw
[Then, there is nothing.
They roam about the castle in search of their Face, in search of something, of anything. Those who see them, those who find them - they maybe be treated as enemies. As things to be attacked and beaten down and damaged.
Or they may be treated as something much worse.
They may be treated as friends.]
[[ooc: info on the masked figure can be found here. anyone looking for an action prompt is likely to be tackled with extreme prejudice. once the night is over, tim will wake up in the mess hall the next morning with whatever injuries he might have sustained in the interim.]]
His body seizes, fingers curling, back arching, tension clenching every muscle simultaneously in an unbearable, untenable, agonizing roar of overloaded nerves and sensory hell and electrostatic energy fizzling away in his skull in all the wrong, worst ways.
He's fairly certain that he's screaming when it happens. He's certain that he
He
Eyes open. Fingers go to face, trace contours. Unfamiliar. Not stark and white. Missing their Face. Missing direction. Missing everything. They've not been awake in...in so long, they think. Everything locked down, the body unresponsive, unwilling to cede control. Then everything ran dry, they nearly died because he did, and without the means to suppress the mechanism of their return, he - yes. He did. And as he lay there, postictal and still and trembling, they'd slithered in and taken things in their favored direction.
Something new on the floor. They snatch it up, run fingers over it, determine its function. It has a good function. They can work with this. They can send a message. They can find a way to. Require...focus. Focus and shape. Need someone, need something. Won't have this skin to themselves for long. Must make the best of it.
The video assigned to the network is odd and flickering, cut through with bars of intermittent static. White letters flit across the screen as a bizarre, warped tone shrills over the words.]
EYO
USE
EN?
////////we are alone////////
////////we are alone////////
////////we are alone////////
[The words cut out and so does the background noise. And then, briefly, seconds before the video's conclusion, a tiny line of text flares across the screen:]
[Then, there is nothing.
They roam about the castle in search of their Face, in search of something, of anything. Those who see them, those who find them - they maybe be treated as enemies. As things to be attacked and beaten down and damaged.
Or they may be treated as something much worse.
They may be treated as friends.]
[[ooc: info on the masked figure can be found here. anyone looking for an action prompt is likely to be tackled with extreme prejudice. once the night is over, tim will wake up in the mess hall the next morning with whatever injuries he might have sustained in the interim.]]
no subject
But the doors are heavy, and they do not close at a touch. That is enough for them to dive forward and force the door open completely. They are stronger than their stolen body would imply.
Far stronger.]
no subject
[Pidge let out a pained yell as she went flying back from the rammed partially open door. She skidded to a halt several feet away, groaning at the connection of body on hard stone floor.
Was this thing a shadow? Or something else entirely? Either way, it was proving itself to be an enemy right now and there was no one here to call out to for help.
She yanked the awkwardly placed Bayard out of her back pocket and lit it up, twisting in order to aim it at the strange being baring down on her. Her hands were shaking, but with a deep breath she steadied them enough to launch the pointed end of the weapon with the intent of delivering a shock that would hopefully slow the thing down.]
no subject
They attempt to clear the path of the weapon.
They fail.
It strikes them in their midriff, bolts of some sort of electrical-based shock coursing through their system, frying nerve endings and scrambling neurological impulses and they are not equipped for this, they cannot sustain this.
They end up on the floor on all fours, trying to drag their stolen body to its unstable feet.]
no subject
Which is what Pidge intends to find out now that she's got some disance between herself and it.
She gets to her feet, gripping the handle of the bayard tight in one hand and reaching for the glowing tether with the other. The cord stays partially on the floor, touching just enough skin to send a shock again if need be.]
What are you?! Where's Tim?!
no subject
It says something.
It says its name. The name of the thing that they are using and they hate it, they hate it on principle as they hate all things that elect to use that name that is clearly not theirs and never will be.
They surge forward again, fingers oozing for the thing's throat, but their stance is wobbly and still recovering from the shock initially delivered to its nervous system.]
no subject
If that actually did happen, Pidge would be out the nearest window so fast, drop in to the ocean be damned.
It's not that bad yet, though, and while she's frankly terrified of what's happening her mind isn't so far gone that she can't at least try to defend herself.
She sees the hand reaching for her throat and pulls back, yanking the tether of the bayard up in her hands and throwing herself in to a roll off to the side in order to come back up behind the thing.
A half-assed lasso of tether is thrown around shoulders and yanked hard.
No shock yet, though.]
Tell me where he is!
no subject
Stop running interrogative loops. Run, instead, more useful, executable programs. Files that are executable, not raw data. Data is not executable.
They attempt to twist, grip tightening on the ropelike material in an attempt to unbalance the one holding it.]
no subject
[A struggle is started, feet planting hard against slick stone, thin arms shaking in effort to stand her ground. She slips and slides, eventually giving in to her lessening strength and sending another shock through the tether instead.
This thing won't talk. Refuses to. She won't get any answers this way, and there's nothing to hack to force it to go her way.]
no subject
This body is not its ally. It has never been its ally, but they find it particularly unwieldy now.
They elect to work this to their advantage.
They become dead weight, and drop to the ground, yanking at the tether harshly as they do so.]
no subject
She hits the ground face first, forehead connecting with the stone ground and causing her to see stars from the impact.
There's a groan as she lays there, rolling on to her side and releasing the grip on her weapon.]
no subject
They contemplate it.
It is combative. It recognizes the skin they wear. It does not like them. It can administer weighty shocks at its leisure.
In short: not worth the effort it would take to capture and claim such a thing.
They begin their retreat.]
no subject
But she doesn't. She just waits. And watches. And prays silently that this isn't going to be her end, so soon after Keith's.
But it starts to move away, leaving, retreating. She stays where she is, still as stone until she's positive the footsteps have faded in to the distance.
Her breath escapes so loudly it rings in the silence and in her ears. She slumps on her side and stays there for another few minutes before finally getting up with a groan to retrieve her bayard.
Her gaze stares at the doorway, scowling as she mumbles to the empty area.]
What the hell was that... ?