paradisalost | (no subject)

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(no subject)

[filtered away from children kidnapped or otherwise, Slenderman, and anyone exploiting the situation]

[two pages are highlighted: #, and then #; the priest's voice is quiet and gentle]

...The entries currently unearthed skip from 23 to 28 with nothing yet in between. The last known plan the previous victims of 'Slenderman' had were to offer up a human... sacrifice. The end result was the safe return of at least one child -- Deema. There's also-- this.

[he shifts, where he's staring at the blood-soaked tree whose line creeps higher and higher every time he blinks -- or maybe it's his imagination. his mind playing tricks on him, at this point, is not at all beyond the scope of the realistic]

Time is... running out.

[ooc: open for journal or the CREEPY BLOOD TREE if you're lurking]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Have you found a more promising alternative?

The map... Abel. If it's real...they're just under our feet.

And Joshua. Joshua contacted me last night. [you know, after we nearly did what you're thinking about now] THey're alive. And in this world. He wouldn't have been able to hear them otherwise.

How will we get them back? ...There aren't many children left to take, Jilly. Time, is... not on our side...

If there's a cavern there.... we live in a magic castle, for god's sake! Someone here has to be able to get to it.

We aren't going to lose them.

No... we won't.

[he said he'd do everything he could, didn't he? ...he isn't trigger happy nor does he have a martyr complex ~~like his wifey~~, but he isn't seeing many upsides in holding off, either. time is TICKING so quickly and they are putting the pieces of the puzzle together far too slow]

I promised.

So did I.

[Damnit, Abel]

I said they wouldn't have to deal with this alone, and I meant it. I couldn't stop them from being taken, and damned if I'm going to let it end here.

But we don't know what will happen if we fill that tree up. That much hasn't changed.

Everything says it stores the kids until the tree is filled, and then it gorges itself. If you fill it up...if we fill it up... and it decides that's it? Can we really risk taking away what little time we have left?

All the talk is contradictory!! None of it supports itself, except these diaries. The child returned. Returned! Safe, and sound, after talk of making the decision to sacrifice. They were happy--

[lkjsdf sob ;;] --What else is there? This is-- [torture, waiting ;;]

So go to them. They're close enough to reach. They were talking about attacking the tree. They have to be right there.

--How?

[he is so frustrated HE CAN'T EVEN-- he sees nothing, no way to damage the tree, no way to affect it or get beneath it or--]

It's-- nothing, there's--

[SCREAM SCREAM.]

Get a goddamned shovel.

[that's....what she's planning, honestly.]

A shovel.

[SLDKJFLKJ dull.]

Do you really think it'd be so simple? If it were physically underground, those with abilities the like of Clark's vision would be able to find it... don't you think?

Or the TARDIS. Or magic. Or....something.

They have to be physically there. They have to be. Joshua said he wouldn't be able to reach them, otherwise.

They aren't worlds away, Abel. They aren't.

[...he has no idea what to say... or do, anymore. ;(]

[she's coming to the tree, Abel. You're not about to do this without her being there ~~to guilt you~~ to stop you]

[he's standing beneath it, much like yesterday... simply looking up into the blood tree thoughtfully]

[moving to join him, silently looking up at it with him]

[eyes tilt toward her when she joins him, and... he's quiet a moment before breaking the silence. his gaze returns to the roots]

...I am wondering, Jilly...

[turning her gaze to the priest] I know what you're wondering, Father...

They're so close...Abel...they're here. [crouching down, her hand will hover above the bloody dirt, not quite touching]

I really think we can get to them. Without anyone dying.

[he crouches beside her, looking down into the dirt]

...'Deema.' These diary entries... The records of when this happened before.

[he frowns, softly, before reaching out to run a hand down the bark of the tree with a gloved hand]

This isn't the first time this creature has plagued Paradisa, and the castle doesn't seem to like it. But it worries me, Jilly.

What happened to 'Deema?' To the people who loved him? To all the people keeping those records? Were they previous castle residents?

Where did they all go? [how many times has this happened...?]

[a ragged sigh. This is a bigger puzzle. A puzzle that taps into a lot of other things that were bugging her even before this mess]

Maybe they got sent home, like we all seem to, eventually. [a pause] Or maybe this is the reason, or one of the reasons, why those first generation residents left. If it meant this never happening again, I'd try to get everyone as far from this place as I could, too.

[except even that theory had holes, considering that the castle was fighting back. Or seemed to be]

They're all gone...

[...or mindless townspeople...]

It could be a good sign. It could mean that it doesn't come back, as long as there are people who know how to beat it.

[if they could write up how they did this and pass it on...maybe that would be enough to keep people safe, if the exorcism wasn't permanent]

[it doesn't solve the immediate problem -- and only makes it harder, considering they can't ask them how they got rid of him last time...]

...

[ducking her head, her hand dropping into her lap]

We're going to solve this. We will.

[he withdraws his hand, too... and comes to sit, drawing his knees half-way to his chest to lean arms against them.

this... has made him wonder, how many people he put in this scenario so long ago. how many parents had been sick with worry for their children missing in the rubble of fallen cities? how many families had grieved for the loved ones he'd taken away?

half the reason he's here is in plea to be punished and alleviate the guilt as much as it is to get them back. he's selfish...

he takes his glasses off at last, rubbing at tired eyes beneath, and for the life of him can't seem to find a single word to say in response]