entrancelogs | VALENTINE'S DAY CATCH ALL 12th-17th

VALENTINE'S DAY CATCH ALL 12th-17th

Who: Anyone and everyone who wants to participate
Where: Literally every corner of the known universe
When: Again with the questions...
Rating: BIG BIG HORRIBLE WARNING LOTS OF DEATH AND FIGHTING AND GRAPHIC EVERYTHING I think you might need an adult...
Summary:

THIS IS A CATCH ALL LOG FOR THE DURATION OF THIS SITUATION

Here's what happens. If you want interaction with HARRY OR TOM, if you want to have a short thread with someone discovering a BODY or someone who is WOUNDED or generally just want some blood and guts it happens in here.

THAT BEING SAID if you want to write a log? Do it. I'm just trying to control the madness in one place...as if that might be easier to manage. It also means the community isn't TOO flooded with bodies and boxes of chocolate so those wanting to bypass this event will have less to look at.

IF YOU ARE A VICTIM, YOU MAY POST YOUR DEATH POST IN HERE
I mean, you can if you want but also feel free to make an independent post. Up to you.

Comment in with a header including date and place for whatever situation you're doing so we can just keep track. I'll do the same.

Questions, comments, plurk or aim or pm me. x

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[Tom doesn't answer at first. He doesn't have the words even if he wanted to, but the weight of everything sits so heavily upon him that air can barely seep in and out of his lungs.

His hands are cold and clammy, unresponsive to her touch. A sharp contrast to how hot he always burns, how reactive.

Finally, finally he lets out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and tips his head back against the wall.]

This is such bullshit.

[And there's not much more to say about it. Harry is out there somewhere and managed to pin his warpath on Tom. So now, not only is Tom in danger by Harry himself, but the rest of the mansion save Jo.

And as much as he wants to try to push her away, put her somewhere safe and away from him so that she won't get in Harry's path her presence is the only thing holding him together.

He's always needed someone to understand. Finally someone does. Hell of thing.]

I saw him, I fought with him.

[Harry is, without a doubt in Tom's mind, absolutely real. He's real to everyone, but this- He almost laughs at the sheer insanity of it all. It feels like payback. Like Harry stalked him here after all this time to not only punish him for the collapse but also for coming to Wonderland.]

Maybe this isn't an event. Maybe he followed me.. Been hiding down in the tunnels this whole time.

Nobody announced it. There was no cryptic message from any of the natives before this started.

[As long as she'd been here, events had always come with some kind of warning. It usually didn't make much sense, usually didn't help much, but it was still there, assurance that whatever had come would pass before too long and all they had to do was make it through. The only cryptic warning given this time had been from Tom himself, albeit a different version.

She was furious with him for not telling her more, flat-out pissed that he thought it was okay to bring this on himself. What the hell sense did that make?

She let her hand fall away from his, folding her arms a second time, closing herself off. There wasn't much she could do for him until this was over, as far as comfort went. They had both seen Harry, fought with Harry just like he'd said. They just needed everyone else to see that he was real.]

I fought him, too. Nothing made-up about that broken arm he gave me. [She grits her teeth.] That should be all the proof anyone needs, if they're going to insist on being assholes and looking for a scapegoat. You would never hurt me.

I would never. [He swears, lurching forward to place his hands on her upper arms, reestablishing contact.]

Jo.. [Searching her eyes, tongue tongue poked up behind his front teeth.]

You are the best thing that's ever happened to me. And no matter what happens here, I need you to know that I love you more than anything. I would never hurt you.

[And the most painful this is that he means it with his whole body. His whole being. There's nothing he wouldn't do for her and the idea that he'd willingly target her makes him sick down to his very core.

He has no idea how deceptive his future self has been, how manipulative of everyone - taking advantage of his position to align select starts for his past self to stumble along. As if this time is somehow magically better.

He has no idea that his future self could have blown the whistle, himself. Could have stopped this and handled it delicately with tact and careful navigation. This is blunt. Brutal. Self punishing.

But Tom has never been one for strategy. And he will always hate himself.

This is just...vicious.]

He's going to come for me sooner or later.

[The idea that Harry has been here the entire time is disgusting. That he'd been waiting for Valentine's Day, that sick fuck.]

But I can't let people die because of him. Because of me.

[And it is SO clear that he just has no idea what to do. He's not great with fighting and the entire population of Wonderland wants him dead or otherwise - but he feels responsible for putting Harry down, himself.]

I started this...I need to end it.

One way or another..

I know you wouldn't. I've never questioned that, okay? I trust you.

[She smiles grimly.]

I love you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't.

[She relaxes, if only a little, and for a moment wonders if that confirmation is more for his benefit than for hers. He seems to be second-guessing himself, nervous and angry and just a little somewhere in the middle of all this chaos, a part of him isn't really sure what he saw.

It reminds her of the conversation they'd had a few months earlier, where he told her he'd been seeing things, that he'd seen Harry even though it was impossible for him to have been in the mansion. All that time and Tom thought he might be hallucinating, thought there was something wrong with him. He'd taken her advice and sought help, but that didn't change the fact that this-- this whole mess and Harry actually being here felt like some kind of sick betrayal all on its own. Waiting, biding his time all those months, letting Tom think he was crazy--

Cruel. Just like everything else he had done during the last week.]

Then we'll end it. You said he'll come for you-- there's no better time for him to try that than now, is there? ... we'll be ready.

[He listens, every single part of him wanting to think this is the best option.

Truth be told, he isn't sure. He hates everything right now and nothing is making sense and all of his decisions feel like a push and pull, neither in the right direction, and always, ultimately, staying in the same place.

They ran here for safety. But now they're waiting for Harry so they can end this. He wants to be out there fighting, finally getting to the bottom of it with a big gun and zero fucks but he is also standing in a bunker in terror because the very thought of Harry makes his skin crawl.

He feels like a fraud. In so many ways he feels like a loser and a coward and a freak. Like he's not doing enough, like he should be out there, guns blazing, proving himself and righting the wrongs from his world that have somehow clawed along for the ride.

But he's here. Hiding. Waiting for Dean.

The tick in Tom's jaw flares as he squares and set it, replaying to Jo's words of encouragement with a small nod. And it reminds him that he isn't flying solo anymore. They're a team, and she is infinitely stronger than he could ever be.]

Yeah, okay.

The first order of business is to arm ourselves.

[She has her shotgun, and there are other things in the clubhouse that they can put to use-- killing a human, even a human serial killer, isn't something she's ever done before, but she knows that this time, she can do it without guilt, without hesitation. After all he's done, all of the people he's hurt and the pain he's caused Tom, how much danger he's put these people in?

He's as bad as any monster.

She sighs, sweeping her gaze over their surroundings to see what was available.]

Are you comfortable shooting?

[They had worked on it some since Christmas. He wasn't the best, but he had learned to steady himself.]

If you get him point-blank, there's not much room for error.

Yeah, I can shoot.

[He should have thought of that back in Harmony, to be honest. Gone to his dad's old place and gotten out the shot gun he'd-

--he'd never wanted to see again. The shotgun he'd turned on himself that winter when--

Tom shakes it out of his head.

Shakes a lot of things out of his head. Something far more powerful than him stepping in to take control of the situation.

After all, they're alone and in danger.]

There's a closet in here, right?

Yeah, a couple.

[She nods towards the nearest and largest of them, a supply closet that's seen quite a bit of use since Christmas, with people stockpiling everything they can for future use. The Jabberwocky's coming is no joke, but she's not even beginning to think about that now. All she can think of is the present.]

You thinking of trussing him up and shoving him in there? Seems a little elaborate.

To find a weapon.

[Though it would be tempting.

Very tempting.

He wanders over and noses about for a moment, stilled, quiet, as though he'd pulled together some focus.

But nothing takes his interest and he returns, jaw set, shoulders squared, and fixes Jo with a certain look. Like he's got it together. Like he's decided to finally take action.]

You think he'll find us here?

[She purses her lips, studying him for a moment before leaning against the table, propping herself up with one hand against the surface.]

Honestly? I think that even though this place is pretty well-hidden, if he's been here this long--

[God, how long has he been watching them? What has he seen?]

I think he knows about it. And with as obsessed as he is, I think he would find you anywhere.

[Ominous sounding, she knows.]

... but you're not alone in this. You have me.

[His lips twitch, nodding once from his position about two feet away.]

And you have me.

[And that's when he rears back and slams a mean right hook right into her face.]

Edited 2014-02-23 23:58 (UTC)

[Her reflexes are quick, but it's not enough-- her guard had been down entirely, no reason at all to have herself on the alert when Tom was the only one there, and so the blow lands and sends her reeling, stumbling backwards and catching herself against the wall, nose bleeding and blood staining her lips as she stares back at him, wild-eyed.]

What--?!

[Oh God. Oh God.

Angel was right.

Damn it, he was right.]

[Oh, yes. Oh y e S

hE

Was

sɐʍ ǝɥ s ǝ ʎ ɥooo

Harry doesn't give her a response, he just keeps coming, pushing her back towards the corner of the room. His movements are solid, footing heavy, but he's so quiet. So unlike Tom who is somehow light footed and noisy at the same time, moving as if he were on high alert at all times.

The look in his eyes reads murder. Like a man possessed.]

[She backs up to keep the distance between them, painfully aware of the fact that he's cornering her as everything processes all at once, all the signs, all of the little details that previously seemed out of place--

She's seen his eyes like that before, and the memory alone makes her stomach turn. How long had this been going on? Always?

She doesn't have time to try and figure it out now. All there's time to do is react, and when the distance between them begins to close, she steels herself, pushing off against the wall to launch herself forward, aiming for his face as she headbutts him as hard as she can, ignoring the pain it sends searing through her skull.]

It was you?! All this time, it was you?!

[Incredulous, angry, betrayed, scared. Horrified now that she thought about how many times she had given him her complete trust, how often she had let her guard down around him and how much time she had spent close enough for him to reach out and do whatever he wanted if he'd had the inclination.

It was too fucking much.]

You son of a bitch, I trusted you! I defended you!

[Forehead lands on nose and he snarls back, one hand instinctively coming to guard it, thick, dark blood dribbling down his face and onto his hoodie.

That was good. She's got some fight in her still.

He likes that.

Harry raises an eyebrow, face twisting with pain and something not-quite-right.

So he cant get too close to her for the moment, he's still got her cornered. And his lips draw back in something of a sneer.]

You betrayed him.

[Gruff, amused. She's a good girl, isn't she. But she's gotten too close. Stuck her nose in business that didn't concern her, made him think he might have a chance. And Harry doesn't stand for that kind of lying. It's manipulative.

So he closes in again, still without a weapon, but with strong hands grabbing at her shoulders in an attempt to catch her. To throw her up against the wall, bludgeon her.]

[Tom was a lot bigger than she was -- as hunters went, she was on the slight side, usually relying on speed and smarts along with brute strength to get the drop on her opponents. She had never seen him use that size to his advantage, never seen him harness his full strength, but whoever that was inside of him now knew how to use it. He was determined, unshakeable, and no matter how hard she fights or rails against him, he still manages to grab her and slam her against the wall, causing her cry out as the back of her head smacks against it.

Like hell she was going down this way.

She brings both feet up while he held her shoulders, shoving both into his stomach as hard as she could, hoping to force him to stagger backwards.]

I didn't betray anyone! I never would!

[Possessed. He had to be possessed. This wasn't Tom.

She struggles to pull one arm free, just enough to grab hold of the flask at her hip and uncap it, splashing holy water across his face, bracing herself for the tell-tale smoke that would confirm everything, prove that this wasn't really him--

But nothing happens, and she drops the flask to the floor.]

Tom-- [She cuts herself off, narrowing her eyes at him, questioning. No, not Tom. Not Tom at all.] ... no. Harry?

Edited 2014-02-24 13:58 (UTC)

[Harry lands a solid blow or two before Jo can retaliate, kicking back against his stomach and forcing him back before grabbing her flask and dousing his face with water.

Water that does nothing but clean some of the blood away. He blinks against it and spits out the droplets that had gotten into his mouth, wiping some of the diluted blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

No. This isn't Tom. Tommy isn't home right now. He hasn't been for a long time. And he's about to say that when she calls his name.

His name.

He feels secure in this situation, too. No one knows they're out there. They're hidden, and he has business with Jo. He feel secure in his strength over her, in his ability to put her down, but not before he makes her suffer. Something slow. A lesson.

It's not really his style, but who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

His grimace twists back into a closed sneer. That's right. Harry. He's Harry.]

Yes, dear?

[She recoils when he answers to that name, eyes darting left and right as she tries to figure out a way past him, a way to get back to the meeting table and grab her shotgun and--

And what? Shoot him? Shoot Tom?

After everything that's happened, everything he's done, it's probably just desserts, but everything is happening too fast to process, and the last five minutes don't wipe away the last six months. Maybe they will, given the time to sink in, but at the moment it doesn't quite register-- her brain can't make sense of the fact that her Tom and this beast in front of her are the same.

That he's a liar and a monster and dangerous and not the mild-mannered man she thought he was at all. He's malicious and bloodthirsty and bearing down on her like any other monster, like something she would hunt, except he's human, and that still makes a difference.

She exhales, steadying herself as he advances on her, steeling herself to retaliate, throw him off-kilter if she can.]

How long have you been living in there, huh?

[Was Harry ever a real person? Had Tom been the one to murder all those people in that mine, too? Was Harry just an excuse, some fucked-up imaginary friend so he could deflect blame for the shit he'd done?

Tom's future self had known about all of this. He had come back and lied to her. Told her to stay out of it so that-- what? So he could get away with it? Did he really not think that she would try to stop him as soon as she realized what was going on?]

Have you just been waiting for this? Since day one, since the tunnels?

[Since she'd found him and helped him? God. Was anything that had ever taken place between her and Tom real at all?]

Oh.. [He grunts] Longer than that.

[Living in there... How long had he been?

Huh.

That's a good question.

Since the day he died. Since that night in the mine, since the moment his blood touched Tom's scared, weak lips. Sprayed into his face by a gunshot sending millions of micro-particles into his very being?

Since the moment Tom was too weak to stand up to his own demons. To move on, to be an adult and face his fears and ran away like a sick child? Got himself corralled up in a mental ward somewhere where Harry could grow and fester away before finally spreading his legs.

It's funny, it's the same body and yet the amount of space they fill is completely different. Harry feels ten feet tall and just as wide, mean and relentless and powerful. Tom's future self carried a streak of this, but he was still himself...more of less. And Tom...as he is now...is small. He's quiet and unassuming, and nervous. He'd rather hide away and play with his cat than talk to anyone. Rather play guitar and build things out of lego and read about cowboys.

These three men, one body three-

Two, Tom and Harry. First Tom by himself and then- It's always been them. Long enough now.

long enough
ɥƃnouǝ ƃuol ]

[Longer than that.

Too long. Even a matter of mere minutes would have been too long.

She doesn't wait for him to strike, but instead launches herself forward, logic and planning forgotten as she rails against him and beats against his chest with both fists, furious, tears coming freely now and cutting pale tracks through the blood on her face as she hits him, over and over, as long as he'll let her.

It's dangerous, but she doesn't care. All she cares about is hurting him, getting 'Harry' to somehow disappear, undoing all of this and getting Tom back, going back to the way things were or at least pretending that things had been normal all that time, that they had been good.]

Then get out of him! Get out! You don't fucking belong there! You're not him, you'll never be him. Get out!

[She strikes him again, choking back a sob that dares to try and force itself out. She won't let herself break or fall apart in front of him, not completely. The minute she does, it's over. He'll win and he'll overtake her, and that is not how this is going to end.]

[Harry snorts and takes the beating, the flurry of fists, the angry cries, because it's exactly what he wants.

More specifically, Jo that close to him is exactly what he wants, and look. It's paid off.]

You stupid bitch, [He snarls and grabs her, one hand winding into her long hair, the other going for her throat.

He pushes them back until he can press her up against something solid and leans right in, expression hard but his eyes are glassy and dark - a handful of hazel tones shining brightly as though he were in a fever.]

You don't get to tell me anything.

[They're so close he could kiss her if he wanted.]

But let me tell you something..hm? This whole thing? You two? It ain't gonna happen, sister, and here's why. You will never be good enough.

You will never be what he needs.

And Tommy here? You will never save him.

[She bites back the urge to cry out as he grabs her by her hair, stifling it and swallowing it down as he shoves her against the wall and she feels his hand close around her throat. It's not enough to cut off her ability to breath, but close. Close enough.

She stares back at him defiantly, those eyes full of malice and nothing even vaguely reminiscent of Tom. There's nothing of him in there now, just Harry -- not a demon, not something she can exorcise out of him, just -- part of him in a way she can't fathom.

No matter how many times she tells herself it can't be real, it is.]

Maybe I won't be what he needs.

[She almost spits the words themselves, venomous.]

But I can still save him. That's what I do.

[And just for emphasis, she sharply brings her knee up to bury it in his groin as she tries to pull herself free, teeth grit.]

[Harry snorts a sharp laugh, fingers closing with a brutal strength to crush the words from his throat, but she speaks, forcing it out.

Maybe he should be impressed.

Her movements catch him off guard, however, a blinding pain ripping through his body how dare you, you little slut--

--but it's enough to get him to let go. Even for a second to shuffle back and will his body to breathe. Pathetic as it is, he's still human and jesus that hurt.

[She gasps for breath the moment he releases her, wasting no time in finding her feet and pushing past him, darting to her right to get out of arm's length in case he tried to grab her again. All she had to do was get to the table. Get her gun. Her chest feels impossibly tight as she moved, heart in her throat as she closes her fingers around the cold steel of the barrel, but she hefts that shotgun and turned it towards him, taking several steps back in order to gain distance, her hands shaking.

A part of her knows she'll have to have to pull the trigger. There's no other way out of this.]

Tom, if you're still in there at all, I'm sorry--

[She swallows something down and it sticks at the back of her throat, suddenly painfully aware of her own pulse as she feels her blood thundering past her ears and through her head, adrenaline doing its job to keep her together.

Fuck, she shouldn't have to be apologizing to anyone, but this--

He's not the Tom she knows. Maybe he never was, but that Tom was real enough to her, and he's the one she's apologizing to.]

But I can't-- I can't let him kill me or anyone else.

[It's funny what power a single word can have.

A name. An assigned identifier given to you by your parents at birth. It shapes you, defines you, you grow to suit it and it's meaning.

Thomas, for example, is Irish. It means twin.

Jo rushes away and grabs her gun, turning with the tight panic afforded to her by terror but the easy way in which she grips it speaks of years of hunting.

She shouldn't speak, she shouldn't pause, and yet she does.

She does and she calls him name.

And he hears it.

There is a brief moment where the body of the man she loves does nothing. It lurches half an inch forward before the tension in his shoulders melts along with the snarl at his lips.

It's a tremble that then presents itself. A fracture in his composure allowing Tom to scratch and scream and claw his way back. If only for a moment. But a moment is all he needs.]

Jo-

[Small. He feels so small. He sees Harry all around him, closing in from all directions, his breathing a cacophony of terror ripping down his spine with the unrelenting truth. This is you, Tommy. You.]

I'm so sorry..

[A whine. It feels like slow motion, every particulate illuminated by some stream of indistinguishable light source. His breaths feel long and careful when they are quick heaves jerking from his lungs.]

You've gotta shoot me, shoot now.

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lightgunhustler - 2014-03-25 14:30 (UTC) - Expand

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