mother_of_god | Central Silent Hill (Foggy Side)

[Tasks:
-Monster fighting! There are skinless dogs, pterodactyl things, and apelike dudes in abundance, and all sorts of stores to explore/loot.
-NPCs! If you want to talk to one, let me know. There's a policewoman around, though she doesn't know what the fuck, and a crazy woman who may know what the fuck, but hell if anyone can tell!
-Subplot! There's a police station with notes about the local drug trade. [I'll paste 'em in if your character wants to read them.] Also, ammo.]

Empty stores stretch for blocks, the fog and snow the only patrons. Whatever happened to all the people here, it looks like most of them had time to close up shop before diasppearing- gates are down, doors locked. Wide chasms cut through some of the streets, impossibly deep gouges in the earth. The city is dead.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Thomas keeps an eye on the door, using his fabulous stretching powers to jam it good and shut. "Anything good?"

Angela looks around. "Whoa. Looks like someone built the store on a fault line," she says, considering half the store is gone.

But there are still some shelves standing and plenty of stock. "Well, as promised by the sign, plenty of chainsaws. Hedge trimmers. They'll take gas, though."

"Uhmm..." Thomas peers around the store, frowning. "Shouldn't they have some here? Like, a can or two for display models or something? Hopefully?"

"Hopefully," she says, and goes to look, first under the counter, and then in what's left of the back room.

"Shit. No dice," she says, coming out. "We're going to have to find a station."

"You mean, go back out there?" He might sound a little nervous. "With the dogs?"

Angela's not too thrilled either. "Yeah. Unfortunately."

She chews on her lip, looking very nervous herself. Especially since she has no weapon on her at all, except for a small switchblade.

She really needs bigger guns.

"Or... we could go over the other way?" Gesturing at the chasm. "I can stretch across that no problem."

Angela furrows her brow a little. "Yeah...I'm sure you could. It sounds better than fighting the dogs immediately, anyway."

Though heights...um. Angela will just not look down.

Thomas edges away from the door to gaze thoughtfully across the chasm. "Hmm. Er... I can't see an other side. Fuck."

Angela sighs. "Well...I guess that leaves only one way out, then." She peers out the window.

She...can't see much.

"Wasn't there a gas station on the other side of town?" Hopefully. "We could make a run for it."

He stomps his feet, jingling slightly. Oh yeh, he's got some surprises in store for them mutts.

"Yeah, I think so. I think we'll have to." And pray they're not mistaken.

She'd ask what the jingling was all about, but she figures that she'll find out eventually.

"All right. All right." He checks his claws again. "All right. You ready? I'm Ready. I can do this. We'll do this. Yeah."

Angela nods, nervously. " Yeah. Ready. Let's go."

Before I lose my nerve.

Thomas throws open the door, darting forward. He still feels like he needs to protect her. "Coast is clear, for the moment."

Angela is much less well-armed than he is at the moment, so his protective instinct is probably a good idea.

"Good...maybe we can get a head start."

"Y'sure? Yeah, sure, right. Right. Here we go. Going out, with the scary dogs. Right? Right. Big scary skinless dogs." He peers both ways, at the same time. "No dogs. Here we go." The top half of Thomas' body starts on its way. The rest of him stays put in the doorway, and might actually take a step or two back.

Angela's eyes widen, and she stammers. "You...you should probably move b-both halves of yourself, y-you know...in the same direction."

She puts her hands on his hips, since they're...sort of right there. "Come on, okay?"

She won't be scared if she's doing something. Like running.

Well, okay, she won't be thinking about being scared, anyway.

"Right. Hold on" And he begins moving forward slowly, his head swiveling at every noise.

At least it's a start. Though Angela would really, really prefer that they be running.

She keeps her grip on her switchblade, wishing that she could see more than a foot in front of her.

Thomas takes bigger and bigger steps, hurrying along. "Looks good, looks good, looks good..."

She's relieved when he starts hurrying. She doesn't fault him for being afraid of dogs at all.

She's afraid of flies for heaven's sake.

But when she starts hearing more growling in the mist, she starts to pick up a bit more speed.

"Thomas...we'd better hurry."