[HH 1v1] what shivers and slithers — dawson/lurks

[medigel]

Quote:

Rolling a 1: ALL DAMAGE IS MULTIPLIED BY 2, but you CANNOT USE FEAR/ CHARGED ATTACKS. You feel slightly dizzy, everything around you flickers to greys.

 

[medigel]

He regretted switching duties with that pretty lady the instant he stepped foot onto the grounds. This was what he got for being nice: a Super Scary Haunted House, complete with creepy fog, dead trees, gray landscape, everything you'd expect.

He gulped audibly.

There is something wrong here. Syntyche's voice was a soft bray and a flick of a rattletail, cautious but ready to get to work. But remember, cub, you're with me.

And it was a little comforting; Dawson remember how easily his shield had kept Chance's arrows off him as well as the comfort of the warm buffer her charge had given. But a little comfort was not enough for his anxiety; he moved into the house with anxiety creeping at his every step. The Scooby Doo show had nothing on this place. The architecture made no sense: Dawson had a good inner compass, but that thing was tilting and whirling like a ride at the carnival the more he explored the place. For a moment he feared he was lost, but Syn reminded him what the techs had explained in simpler words: use pendant to get out if it gets Bad.

At one point Dawson paused, however. The room was spacious and barely decorated, the windows partially broken but only peeking into yet more infinite rooms beyond. The mist seemed particularly bad here--not so much obstructing his vision as it was...filling him with every breath. Maybe mist wasn't the right word, maybe it was some sort of airborne Virus and oh look now he was going to get sick, help--

Breathe.

He whimpered and forced himself to take deep breaths as he poked around, growing increasingly lightheaded and unsure whether the culprit was the house or his own nerves.
 

[its me debz]

Lurks was fond of the house that was haunted. It kept him wandering and wandering, and it was nice that it had an infinite combination of infinite places. It was like exploring the caverns he got lost in, but better!

He hated being alone, though, and so he'd laid down to take a nap, curled up in a chair. It was reminiscent of the House he'd played Family with, with the Girl and her caretakers. The good pets that just were not good enough.

Yawning, he looked up at the hunter (for he had the coat, and the coat was the uniform like Famine clansmen wore bone and silk), and blinked a few times.

"Hello," he said, waving from the pile of moth-eaten curtains from the floor. "Would you like to play?"

medigel

 

[medigel]

Already a bundle of nerves in this creepy place, the moment he heard something shift Dawson reacted with the courage of a ten year old and the intelligent reaction to boot: he immediately launched his shield like a frisbee and jumped back with a high-pealed squeak.

"What the-- N-No?" That wasn't supposed to come out as a question.

hp: 40
damage: 5x2 = 10
charge: nope
 

[its me debz]

 

[its me debz]

They were about on the same intellectual playing field, these ten year olds. The shield careened towards Lurks and hit him about the face with a sickening crack. It spun his head most of the way around, and the force of its collision sent the Famine flying through the air, until his back hit a wall.

He looked up, reaching to twist his head back into place, orange eyes flickering with fury.

"That was not very nice," Lurks hissed, and began to creep forwards, hunched down low. A swarm of moths began to form around him, a shadowy black veil.

mediciner

 

[medigel]

There was all sorts of Nope going on, from the nearly completely Exorcism style head twist to the bug curtain thing going on. Wide-eyed, Dawson immediately resummoned his shield in a poof and cowered behind it as he backed away, glancing behind him in time to see the door literally slither up and away into the ceiling. Oh God. Ohhhhhhhhhhh Gooooooooood. Abort mission, abort mission--

Deep breaths, cub, you are doing just fine.

No, no he was not Just Fine. He was about to get eaten alive by a zombie thing with bugs, that was literally not fine at all.

"Well--Well yer kind a-ain't nice anyway!" Dawson shot back with a squeak, even though he had no idea this thing was. Bad News, clearly.

hp: 40
damage: 0
charge: nope

cherno astra

 

[its me debz]

Lurks snorted, snuffling a bit like a disgruntled animal. If he'd had fur, it would be bristling.

"We are very very nice!" he squeaked, circling around Dawson like a hungry (land) shark. "Me especially!"

And then, to convince him, Lurks promptly began swatting at the tall-thing's head. Rude.

hp: 40
damage: 5

medigel

landshark yolo

 

[medigel]

Dawson yelped and covered his head with his shield too late, momentarily dazed by the surprisingly hard hits. There was something funny going on in this room (moving doors and flickering greys and God help him), and it was messing with his already not so great battle-honed senses.

"Ain't nuthin' nice 'bout ya'll!" he argued, trying to push the creature back with his weapon to get some space. "Git! Git, ya crazy mongrel! 'Fore I stomp ya inta dust!"

It might have been a legitimate threat if his voice hadn't been hiking higher.

hp: 30 (u forgot double damage u~)
damage: 6
charge: nope

cherno astra

 

[its me debz]

Lurks was starting to finally-- finally-- get the idea that not all hunters were on his side. In fact, it seemed like all of them minus the Star Walker seemed to have a chip on their shoulders. It was all very rude and disrespectful. Did they not have Elders to teach them respect through neglect and eventual abandonment for years, if not decades? Did their Elders not punish them with abandonment?

He could not cry-- not real tears, of course, but Lurks began shrieking and shedding his crocodile tears, black little bug-shadows falling from his orange eyes.

"I'm not a mongrel," Lurks wailed, skeletal hands balling into fists, his voice equally shrill. He began swinging at Dawson like a tiny, furious windmill. "I AM NOT A MONGREL AND I AM VERY VERY FRIENDLY AND VERY VERY KIND AND I DON'T LIKE YOU AT ALL."

hp: 34
damage: 6*2=12

medigel

sshhh i am good at rememberings!!

 

[medigel]

"How's this friendly?!" Dawson cried rather shrilly as he was struck, somewhere between indignant, confused, and angry. With a noise like a wounded animal (indeed Syn was starting to grow slightly concerned about their shield power), he continued what was devolving quickly into a slapfest that he was glad no-one else was watching.

Bug tears were super creepy and bone fists hurt like a motherjumper. Looked like another few extra details in nightmares to come.

"G-Go away!"

hp: 18
damage: 4 neutral
charge: nope

cherno astra

 

[its me debz]

 

[its me debz]

xxxxx

 

[its me debz]

"IT JUST IS," Lurks cried right back, in a voice even more high-pitched. "DON'T TELL ME TO GO AWAY. OR. OR...!!"

Be careful what you wish for, Dawson.

Lurks rocketed backwards, black wings flapping with a new-found fury. He began to spin his weapon on its chain, a serrated sickle that had seen better days. It flew towards Dawson at a furious speed, loosed by a vicious and petty child of a horseman throwing a temper tantrum.

hp// 30
dmg// 8

medigel

 

[medigel]

Slightly concerned evolved into much more evident concern. In contrast, Dawson's fear was suddenly traded for a burst of anger born of the survival instincts of a coward: a fleeting but strong kneejerk of a reaction as the sickle dug into his shield and began to scrape at his skin again and again.

He didn't think about the ugly jolt that went up his arm like chills as he yanked the chain forward and began to clobber the thing, his shield more a club in the hands of someone who distantly remembered that he had done this once before with pleasure.

With a noise somewhere between a snarl and another insult, Dawson blindly attacked. He needed to get this thing to stop moving before he could reach his pendant and get out.

hp: 10
damage: 10
charge: nope

cherno astra