paradisalogs | PARANATURAL Day 3-6 Log

Entry tags:

plot: paranatural

PARANATURAL Day 3-6 Log

Who: Ashura, Felix, Galadriel, The Fifth Doctor, and anyone else with a guilty conscience
What: Mirrors and guilt and blood
When: 8/22-8/26
Where: Castle-Wide
Rating: PG-13

On Friday night, mirrors of all shapes and sizes begin to appear, seemingly on every available stretch of wall in the castle. And if one is paying close attention, one might notice the manifestation of a strange little girl. She's unrecognizable as anyone who has ever been to Paradisa and doesn't seem to take notice of anyone nearby. The muffled sounds of her friends laughing seem to follow wherever she goes. She nervously approaches a mirror, holding her candle up and swallowing, staring down her own reflection, reminding herself that it's not real.

"Bloody Mary... Bloody Mary..."

The little girl pauses, looking side to side, and takes a deep breath. It was a dare, after all. She had to.

"Bloody Mary."

There's a loud bang and more laughter, but it fades away as quickly as the little girl seems to as she vanishes down a long, dark hallway at a run, giggling. Suddenly, it all goes quiet. What's left behind is far more sinister than a fun game at a sleepover. Vengeance has come to Paradisa.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[For passers-by with a guilty conscience, no matter how great or small, the mirrors will begin to wear on them. Hallucinations of past misdeeds begin to haunt them, and the more they dwell, the more they get sucked in, the more they're reminded of just what terrible people they are... the more they'll bleed. Mary will only take certain lives she deems the most deserving of vengeance, but she'll toy with anyone who comes too close. Their own seemingly sentient reflections will taunt them about their past, full of self-loathing. They'll find involuntary tears of blood streaming down their faces, and and will suffer a bad headache for a few hours once they finally manage to tear themselves away.]

Edited 2014-08-23 09:43 (UTC)

[Aaron's unlucky enough to cast a look into one of those mirrors. A lot weights on his mind. As he starts to hallucinate he gets reminded of all the things he'd to hurt people. His hatred for his mother, how he hit his stepmother, the crimes he committed but most of all Jackson. Jackson, the man he loved and killed. It's hard to break away from those haunting memories and the guilt which still lingers. The taunting voice and twisted images make it hard to find the ease he had struggled for. As blood starts to drip down his eyes and blurs his vision he finally manages to break away. He lifts his shirt and reveals the scars he still carry. he touches them and it's enough to put himself back together. It was Jackson's choice. He had been freed from all charges. It was not his fault. He mentally reminds himself of what the therapist had said as he wipes away his tears. he notices that it's blood and panics.]

Shite, this is bad...

[Unfortunately for these four, Mary sees their transgressions as worthy of death. Over the next several days, they will experience even more intense feelings of regret and hallucinations - perhaps of those they've wronged, or flashbacks to their very worst moments.

They will each bleed a seemingly impossible volume from their eyes before finally collapsing and dying, unless she is stopped.]

[When the mirrors first began to cover the lobby, Galadriel felt nothing more than a vague sense of unease, which she thought natural enough- nothing about these events bodes well, after all. But as time goes on, that vague sense grows into something more defined: a distinct feeling that something is terribly wrong.

And then the hallucinations start. It's small things at first- her hands coated in blood, the smell of sea. But it's not long before things have progressed to the point where she's seeing those she has slain- standing there, looking sorrowfully at her when she turns a corner. In the mirrors, out of the corners of her eyes. At times she even sees the Kinslaying itself. Hears the cries of dying men ringing in her ears.

Even without the tears of blood that sometimes streamed from her eyes, it was enough to drive her into seclusion. She retreats to her room, allowing only a few inside, and contemplates the solution to her problems privately.]

[Each day, Mary stalked Galadriel a little closer. She would catch up to her in a reflection somewhere, appearing in the elf's own likeness, taunting her with her darkest secrets amid her hallucinations.

A creature with such a long lifespan and so much guilt deserved a slow, agonizing death, but all things had to come to an end. Her wrath grew stronger and stronger every day, her words more vicious. Finally, her vengeance was so strong that she was able to manifest, following Galadriel and taunting her in person. The tears would grow steadily worse until she bled out more than possible to sustain for even her elven form, and Mary would watch happily... surely, it would be another job well done.]

[If it hadn't been for the journal entry, if she hadn't read what she had, Galadriel might have thought she had finally lost her mind completely when Mary finally did manifest. As it is, it's almost refreshing to have someone to direct her anger at- someone not herself.

Her mirror is not far- the other side of her bedchamber, but it would take her a few moments to get there, wearied as she was by bloodloss. But she could buy time.]

So it is you. [Somehow, even with blood staining her cheeks, she manages to sound indignant.]

[Mary's manifestation flashes a few times as she moves in unnatural, irratic bursts of forward motion across the room. She's got on a creepy, dead-eyed smile and her face is streaked with blood to match her victims.]

It is. [Her smile turns more sinister and the volume of blood leaving Galadriel's body increases steadily with a subtle tilt of her head.]

Edited 2014-09-05 14:40 (UTC)

Ah! [She has to pause a few steps from the mirror to deal with the increase in blood, to wipe her vision clear. For a few moments she stays there, doubled over, grimacing. But then she rises, straightening to her full height.]

Leave me. I will give you only this warning; I will do what I must to defend myself. Surely my sins have taught you that much.

[He'd been able, at first, to bear it. The guilt wrenching at his conscience was devastating but also motivated him. He had barely left the library since the blood tears had started, pawing through every volume for references that would help them solve this problem.

But today, it's worse. The glimpses and shades have culminated in a full-blown spectre of his half-brother - malnourished, beaten, and feral-eyed as he'd been when he'd finally found Mildmay in the bowels of the Bastion. He'd known, better than anyone else ever could, what Malkar might have done to him. His master was a sadistic bastard, but he'd proved the greater monster by sending his brother unwillingly into Malkar's hands. Mildmay hadn't spoken for days after the rescue, and he didn't speak now. He didn't need to. All it took was that beaten visage, his poison green eyes vacant and full of pain.

The stream of blood from his eyes only increased in volume, until is was soaking through his kerchief and splattering over his cravat and the books. Desperate to escape the vision, he darted out of the library and into the hall, but ever his shadow, Mildmay followed.]

Please...go away. I'm sorry...

[His voice strained in his grief, accent twisting away from his control and into his childhood Lower City drawl. The blood kept coming, streaming down his hands and arms, past his ability to contain. His vision swam and his legs buckled, within sight of his own door, weeping more than just blood.

He can't even see anymore by the time his vision goes black for good, the last thing he recalls is a dream, and his brother screaming the name 'Strych' over and over as if it was the only word he could remember before being dragged back into darkness.

Shortly thereafter he falls into darkness himself, only feet from the front door of his room, his blood staining the carpet underneath him.]

[Mary looms over Felix as the blood and life seep out of him. She's the one taunting him, fed with knowledge of his darkest secrets from Paradisa itself, intent on torturing him to the point of no return.

As he breathes his last, he'll see flashes of her true form - one that used to be a pretty girl, face marred with her own bloody tears and twisted, malicious smile.]

_{[ He tried his best to ignore the mirrors when they appeared. Bad things had been happening the past few days, and this was probably another one of them. But interacting with them or destroying them could set off something worse, so it was best to let them be, wait and see, wasn't it? They unsettled him, made his skin crawl, but even so, he did his best not look within them when he had to pass them by.

And yet throughout the day and into the next things began - a streak of shadow out of the corner of his eye, the scent of blood, imagining he saw splotches of it on his clothing, in his hair, on his face. More than that, he was sure he recognized the shape of the shadow, that it was creeping closer.

It wasn't until that night, brushing out his hair before bed, that he knew what that shadow truly was. He saw him in the reflection in the mirror - the jet black hair, the jet black eyes, sad, so sad... or angry? But god, he knew that face, he saw it in his dreams, ached for it and he clapped a hand to his mouth to avoid screaming.

Yasha!

He spun, but no one was behind him in the bedroom, but looking back into the mirror he was there, closer now, that same look on his face. He wanted to look away, to not have to see him, to see his soul trapped even here, but he would not go away no matter how many times he blinked or looked behind him. He gasped for air, sucking it through his teeth as he reached up to touch his face in the mirror. ]}

Gods... Yasha... I am so sorry...

_{[ His vision blurred as he teared up, hating to see him, hating to know he was still trapped, not yet free. God what had he done to him? Why had he been so selfish as to wish the other to remain in this tortured life when they had both already suffered so much? What sort of fool was he? What sort of monster?

He choked back a sob... and nearly screamed again when he began to cry tears of blood. He wiped at them, but just managed to smear them further across his cheeks, turning his face into a mess. He rose, fleeting the mirror, and went to his bathroom, doing his best to wash it away, but the water ran pink and he continued to cry those red tears.

He screamed then, screamed and backed away and went back to his room, going to the mirror, slamming his hands on the vanity and gazing into the mirror, Yasha now right behind him, saying nothing, his face that sad, disappointed mask. ]}

Please... please go... be free...!

_{[ He sobbed, nails digging into the wood.... and then his back arched, just thrusting out. In the mirror a sword pierced his chest, but if he looked down there was nothing there. But the pain felt real, the reflection was real and Yasha was right there. He was right there, staring at him, accusing him, blaming him - and rightly so - for everything.

He deserved this. Everything he deserved. And as he sank into the final darkness the pain followed, and he knew he deserved it. ]}

[The death of her first victim in this new place invigorated Mary. So much guilt. It was almost too easy. She simply stood by and watched as he dissolved int a pool of blood and regret and grief...

Surely, all perfectly deserved, as with all those she singled out.]

[ It had been getting steadily worse. The Doctor always carried around a measure of guilt and he had so many things to be guilty for; or better put, so many things he blamed himself for. It had been his fault the Cybermen had been created on Mondas, it had been his fault that Adric had died, it had been his fault and failure that he couldn't look after Tegan. He carried these burdens and many more day to day, and at first the wind chimes he kept hearing were just another reminder. But it had been getting worse.

Accusing faces, laughter, his own reflection in the mirrors that sneered and told him he would forever fail and bring misery to those he most cared about. He saw fleeting images from the corners of his eyes and images of Tegan, snakes, his friends here, tinged in red and seen through bloody tears. ]

I already said it. I admitted it, time and again. It was my fault. I'm sorry. What more do you want?

[ Blood? But it was getting that. It didn't seem to be enough for whenever he caught sight of his reflection in the countless mirrors, it was himself but with the Mara's evil gleam in the eyes. It whispered at how the Doctor was the worst monster there was, bringing death and misery into his friends lives and that he should pay.

I am the Doctor. I am not afraid.

He used it like a mantra yet he was. Afraid and sorry and well aware of his short-comings and what he had done, what he had brought with him here and unleashed, the upset that even he, the master of time, could not take back or undo. ]

Edited 2014-08-24 02:52 (UTC)

[By several days in, the doctor's stubbornness had lost its charming interest for Mary and she was determined to end him. He deserved it, for his misdeeds... and for failing as the protector he liked to think that he was. Not so different from another doctor she'd known...

She was ready to be done with him when he proclaimed that he wasn't afraid. It was infuriating. Fear was the point. Fear and guilt and blood... no matter. He would get what he deserved.]

You should be, Doctor.

[The answer comes in a low, otherworldly hiss from mirrors on all sides of him before the malicious apparition appears, intent on finishing the job for herself.]

[ He was. He was beginning to fear the mirrors and what he might see in them. It was horrible enough that he knew and he already placed blame on himself, but almost everywhere he turned the reflections taunted him too, pressing in around him, reminding him and giving voice to his guilt.

It seemed worse in the hallways, driving him to near despair when he tried so hard to carry on, he had to for he knew he wasn't the only one suffering in the same way and bleeding. Yet here he was at a stop as a sound emanated from all sides that hissed and buzzed, causing him to turn this way and that to find the source like he'd been doing for days to find the wind chimes.

And then there she was, a twisted and evil tormentor. ]

I'm not afraid to be afraid. You did this? Leave us. You've had your pound of flesh.

[Mary disappears again, her laughter echoing throughout the space. Faces flashes in different mirrors, sometimes her own, sometimes the face of the Doctor mocking himself, bloody tears streaming down. When she appears outside the mirror again, she giggles airily and advances on him.]

But what about your blood? Can't leave without that...

Edited 2014-09-05 14:43 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

PARANATURAL Day 3-6 Log

OTA

no subject

Closed to Ashura, Felix, The Fifth Doctor, and Galadriel

no subject

Up to Day 6

no subject

no subject

no subject

Felix - Sunday - Day 5

no subject

Ashura - Saturday - Day 4

Ashura - Saturday - Day 4

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject