4'10" OF RAW, CONCENTRATED ANXIETY (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
darkov) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2018-08-04 02:56 pm
darkov) wrote in maskormenacelogs2018-08-04 02:56 pm
peklabog [OPEN]
WHO: Marty Peklabog, any
WHERE: Maurtia Falls (assorted locations/times)
WHEN: 8/2 (midnight) to 8/9
WHAT: Ferrying the dead, clearing consciences, enjoying being valued...thanks mind control!
WARNINGS: death/dying, suicide mentions probably, violence mentions
NOTE: Peklabog power detail here!
o1. Maurtia Falls General Hospital
[there are a couple times in that wild week of new purpose and power that Martin finds himself on the hospital campus, pulled by the call of the dying and dead. he may be seen on the lawn, head craned upward with his eyes fixed on the buildings ahead of him, listening to the calls in his head, pondering how best to reach them.
or, perhaps, he's seen inside already, skulking past busy residents and nurses to find his way toward those who are fading fast. he doesn't read much anyway, so all the 'NO ENTRY' signs that may bar his way aren't even a thought for concern.
one way or another, alone or with aid, he's getting to those souls. they need him.]
o2. A devastating car wreck
There you are...
[Peklabog manages to climb over one of the twisted guard rails on the hot, ruined freeway, evading the attention of the first responders currently fighting to pry open the roof of an upturned semi to retrieve its driver. he instead is carefully making his way toward the small cluster of cars which had crushed up against each other in vain efforts to avoid the semi's out-of-control swerving.
the living all around this scene are making quite a ruckus, but he can hear the dying a lot louder in his head. with his arrival comes a feeling of dread by way of Moros, who is not far away, having been wanting to keep near Peklabog and keep him safe as he does what he needs to. it gives the scene a more frantic feeling, a sense of time ticking by too fast.
not for him, though. this is exactly where he needs to be, and he's going to take care of things right. he settles on his knees beside an upside-down sedan, ducking to peer in through the shattered window at the one he heard calling, smiling slightly when they gurgle and look his way.
this sort of thing...it horrifies the Darkov in him, but purpose presses harder in his mind and overrides it, encouraging a better reward for all of this.]
o3. The Maurtia Falls government housing neighborhood
[despite his new calling, Peklabog hasn't abandoned his home. he doesn't want to dispose of what Martin had gained here -- the safety, the bonds of familiarity, a place to sleep -- rather, he wants to push away what he was, and truly deserve these things. after all, now he can actually contribute.
he's stowed the knitting and handicrafts away, as there are more important things to do. once he's tidied up his space and fed Rex the Fish, he grabs a pair of sunglasses off the table in the foyer and heads outside into the day, unafraid and only dreading how little time he can linger in the summer heat and sun.
rather than duck his head and hurry by, he has a smile for his neighbors.]
Hello.
o4. A cemetery
[here now is a quiet place, where the dead have already left on their way -- off to where the journey takes them next...or back to linger around the people or things that bind their restless souls to the earth. it's very warm out, and Peklabog still has that Darkov biology: it means he stays under the shade of the old oak trees scattered throughout the park.
it's been...a strange week. the joy of purpose stays firmly pressed in his mind, unyielding to the bubbling doubts and wandering thoughts of his old life, yet still that old edge of anxiety creeps in through his skin, inspired by the sound of his dying friend's cry.
what he does is good. he knows it. it's important. but...he doesn't want to bear witness to the passing of those he loves. it's a facet of him that so strongly informs so much of who Martin Darkov was, that even now it causes him to consciously balk when a new dying cry pierces through his mind.
it's why he's here -- away, quiet, laying on his back in the grass under the shade.]
WHERE: Maurtia Falls (assorted locations/times)
WHEN: 8/2 (midnight) to 8/9
WHAT: Ferrying the dead, clearing consciences, enjoying being valued...thanks mind control!
WARNINGS: death/dying, suicide mentions probably, violence mentions
NOTE: Peklabog power detail here!
o1. Maurtia Falls General Hospital
[there are a couple times in that wild week of new purpose and power that Martin finds himself on the hospital campus, pulled by the call of the dying and dead. he may be seen on the lawn, head craned upward with his eyes fixed on the buildings ahead of him, listening to the calls in his head, pondering how best to reach them.
or, perhaps, he's seen inside already, skulking past busy residents and nurses to find his way toward those who are fading fast. he doesn't read much anyway, so all the 'NO ENTRY' signs that may bar his way aren't even a thought for concern.
one way or another, alone or with aid, he's getting to those souls. they need him.]
o2. A devastating car wreck
There you are...
[Peklabog manages to climb over one of the twisted guard rails on the hot, ruined freeway, evading the attention of the first responders currently fighting to pry open the roof of an upturned semi to retrieve its driver. he instead is carefully making his way toward the small cluster of cars which had crushed up against each other in vain efforts to avoid the semi's out-of-control swerving.
the living all around this scene are making quite a ruckus, but he can hear the dying a lot louder in his head. with his arrival comes a feeling of dread by way of Moros, who is not far away, having been wanting to keep near Peklabog and keep him safe as he does what he needs to. it gives the scene a more frantic feeling, a sense of time ticking by too fast.
not for him, though. this is exactly where he needs to be, and he's going to take care of things right. he settles on his knees beside an upside-down sedan, ducking to peer in through the shattered window at the one he heard calling, smiling slightly when they gurgle and look his way.
this sort of thing...it horrifies the Darkov in him, but purpose presses harder in his mind and overrides it, encouraging a better reward for all of this.]
o3. The Maurtia Falls government housing neighborhood
[despite his new calling, Peklabog hasn't abandoned his home. he doesn't want to dispose of what Martin had gained here -- the safety, the bonds of familiarity, a place to sleep -- rather, he wants to push away what he was, and truly deserve these things. after all, now he can actually contribute.
he's stowed the knitting and handicrafts away, as there are more important things to do. once he's tidied up his space and fed Rex the Fish, he grabs a pair of sunglasses off the table in the foyer and heads outside into the day, unafraid and only dreading how little time he can linger in the summer heat and sun.
rather than duck his head and hurry by, he has a smile for his neighbors.]
Hello.
o4. A cemetery
[here now is a quiet place, where the dead have already left on their way -- off to where the journey takes them next...or back to linger around the people or things that bind their restless souls to the earth. it's very warm out, and Peklabog still has that Darkov biology: it means he stays under the shade of the old oak trees scattered throughout the park.
it's been...a strange week. the joy of purpose stays firmly pressed in his mind, unyielding to the bubbling doubts and wandering thoughts of his old life, yet still that old edge of anxiety creeps in through his skin, inspired by the sound of his dying friend's cry.
what he does is good. he knows it. it's important. but...he doesn't want to bear witness to the passing of those he loves. it's a facet of him that so strongly informs so much of who Martin Darkov was, that even now it causes him to consciously balk when a new dying cry pierces through his mind.
it's why he's here -- away, quiet, laying on his back in the grass under the shade.]