thisavrou_log | The Hannya Mask

Entry tags:

The Hannya Mask

Who: Event Post | Open
When: Dec. 5th - 15th
Where: Around Avagi
What: A demon is haunting the station, spurred on by emotional responses. More information can be found here.
Warnings: Violence, possible death, body horror, etc.

THE HAUNTING

The onryō starts making her first patrols in the early morning when most people are comfortably asleep and not wanting to wake up. The sense of unease she creates is palpable, and initially she just looks at who is around. She chooses in the dark who she should be angry with, who is a foolish idiot for making her mistakes and who is an ignorant soul who ignored the anguish of someone else's attention. Everyone else is unimportant.

Occasionally, rarely though, she'll stop and look at something. Usually carved or drawn or molded, something someone used their hands to create. The very faintest of scraps of who she used to be, though that's barely significant. There's not enough left of that self to deter her from stopping more of the foolishness that damned her.

The Noh mask appears the same day, the same time as her first investigations get underway, and there it remains, conveniently close to where the Ingress once was.

The mask will always return to this original state the moment it's not being observed. It'll be returned to its resting place. If it's been destroyed or altered or damaged in any way, it'll be back to the state that it was when previously examined (even permanent marker would disappear).

It's made of cypress wood and is covered in layers of chalk paint and a glue-like sealant. On the back is a raised signature, indicating that it was handmade by an artisan. On closer examination (like swabbing or enhanced senses or super scanner) there's a bit of smoke damage, but otherwise it's not been worn many times. The straps attached are hardly frayed at all. However it's aged, it's not from scuffing or rough handling.

There might not be much time to notice or to bother with it, though. Not when people are being hunted in the shadows, when quick hands reach out from cabinets or a hunched form hangs upside down from underneath a table, waiting for someone to sit down too close to her.

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[Bill had dropped his bike in the doorway the moment he first caught sight of Eddie, taking in his injuries with wide, concerned eyes. It crashed to the floor and he had been so full of questions he felt like he might explode. Eddie was hurt, and again, Bill hadn't been there to protect him. He kept failing his friends when they needed him. But it wasn't about him. He couldn't focus on his guilt while Eddie was in pain and upset.

After making sure Eddie was alright enough to be left alone for a few minutes, he had gone back to the room he shared with Stan to give himself a moment of anger, alone and away from the others. Once he composed himself he came back, this time with a hot drink and a little box made of paper.

He felt guilty he had been out roaming the halls with his slingshot when Eddie was attacked, but he had come up with an idea of how to help Eddie. Even with his hand in a cast, he could hold the slingshot, Bill reasoned.

He came back to the room to find Eddie reading, and he sat gently on the side of his friends bed, setting the little paper box by Eddie's good hand. It was the kind that popped open when squeezed, and there was something that rolled around inside it when he set it down.

It was the silver slug Bill had brought with him from Derry, and once Eddie had seen it, Bill set his slingshot beside Eddie as well.]

I want you to take th-them.

[And the drink, but that was the less important of the things he had brought Eddie.]

(The worst part about getting taken by the demon hadn't been the injuries. It had been how useless he had wound up being, how completely and utterly useless he was in the face of danger while everyone else was running around doing their damned best. The other Losers were out there being total heroes, and Eddie was stuck, with nothing to do but wait until they came back. Worse than that though? Making the Losers worried.

He had tried to calm Bill, the same way he had tried to calm Richie when Richie had all but thrown himself at Eddie with shouts of concern. Eddie wasn't dumb. He knew how his friends operated enough to know that Bill and Richie both were probably blaming themselves.

When Bill came into his room bearing gifts, Eddie felt something inside him warm all the way through. He wasn't used to the luxury of visitors when he wasn't doing well. His mom had always kept them far away.

She couldn't do that this time, and seeing Bill sitting there with a hot drink and some little box made emotion scratch at the back of Eddie's throat. He swallows it down, opening the little paper box.

Peering inside, Eddie sets it back down at once, knowing what Bill was about to do.)

I can't, Bill.

(This was Bill's. Bill who had a great shot, Bill who was strong enough to get the thing going hard when it needed to.)

These are yours. (Eddie does take the drink, though he's shaking a little.) There's no point in leaving them with me right now.

You've st-still got one good arm, Eddie. You can. [Bill's expression is set, firm but confident. He pushes the slingshot closer and lifts his hand off of it, watching Eddie drink, glad that, injured as he was, he was still with them. Still there, and still able to be surrounded by his friends. Not locked away from him like he had been the last time his arm had been broken.]

I'll show you how. [Eddie needs a way to protect himself, in case somehow he gets separated from them again. Bill has a baseball bat now, sitting on his bed in the other room. He had traded away the beautiful little wooden boat, Lucy, for the thing. The slug wouldn't do near as much to this demon as it had helped with it, but it was something. And it was more for Eddie and the state of mind of the losers, than actual use.

Once Eddie was better, he would find something to get his spirits up. They could work on their bikes, or something else if Bill could find it. He knew Eddie was far more capable than the other boy ever seemed to give himself credit for, and who could blame him with the way Sonia forever told him what he wasn't capable of.]

We'll p-practice on empty cans.

It's not the arm I use, Bill. (He argues back instinctively. It was far easier for Eddie Kaspbrak to accept his role as the Useless Loser in the group standing than it would ever be for him to accept that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't so delicate after all.

Eddie gingerly sets the cup aside where it wouldn't spill. His hands were starting to shake too bad to properly hold it without risk of spilling.)

I have a weapon. It's fine. You should keep your slingshot, Bill.

(Granted, a shiv was a close range weapon. Eddie still didn't care. He moves a little, grimacing at the pinch of ache that flared up from his ribs. The first time he had felt that pain, it had sent him into hysterics. Poor Hawke. Even now, it makes him feel a little panicky.)

I don't even like walking right now. It's- it's completely pointless for me to have.

(Eddie's cheeks were quickly growing red, embarrassed by the idea that he couldn't do this. That he couldn't keep himself safe and that the Losers had to worry about that at all. Emotion shakes through Eddie, and he winds up staring up at Bill with large, wet eyes. He doesn't cry, but God, a part of him wants to.)

Bill. (He murmurs his name, before finally looking down at the slingshot. He idly touches the curve of it, mouth turned down at the corners.)

I'm gonna be a lousy shot.

You w-won't be. Not when I'm through with you.

[Bill settles in beside Eddie, wrapping an arm around the smaller boy and pulling him gently closer. He knew range would be better with this demon thing. It seems to like to lurk in the distance before charging its victims. He keeps his arm around Eddie and rests his head against the side of his friend's.]

Just hold onto it for me. For a little wh-while.

[Later he would grab some cans and show Eddie that he could still use that slingshot even laid up, and that he wasn't as hopeless as he kept believing himself to be.]

(Bill always had a way of making everything look so possible. Stand with Bill, and you could take down armies of demon-clowns no problem. Even better was Bill tugging him close. It made Eddie feel like a million bucks, even with bruised ribs, and he settles as close as he's allowed.

He clumsily places an arm over Bill's chest to give him a loose hug that just winds up turning into Eddie cuddling up. He felt loads safer like this, and lets himself be coddled by the feeling.)

Fine. (Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Bill was a great teacher, and Eddie was always eager to please.)

But only a little while. You're not allowed to get hurt either just because I'm a candy-ass who can't fight some stupid demon.

(He grins up a Bill then.)

Who knows. Maybe I'll wind up being a better shot than you. (He's totally joking. As if that would ever happen, but at least he's in a better mood.)

[Bill smiles right back. Eddie might be joking, but where Eddie lacks confidence, Bill has more than enough to spare. He's certain Eddie can and will learn to be just as good or better of a shot than him, even if it takes a while, and him healing. Until then, Bill would settle for a decent shot and Eddie actually holding onto it.]

That's the s-sp-spirit, Eddie. Don't w-worry. I'm not planning on g-going after her. [Again. Yet. Not until he has a plan and a better weapon at least. He doesn't want Eddie worrying about that though, not right now. The demon had hurt his friend, and she was going to pay for that, one way or another. For now, though, it is Eddie that matters more than getting revenge. Eddie that Bill lets cuddle against him without a word about it, his arms protectively wrapping around him.]

We're all going to be fine.

Good.

(Eddie would have something to say about it if he did. Realistically, he knows his friend enough to realize that Bill probably would wind up going after the demon once he had all his ducks in a row. Bill operated on a sense of justice that was mostly seen in the movies, and comic books.

There was a reason Big Bill was such a God damn hero to Eddie sometimes. Even if his bravery was going to wind up giving Eddie a heart attack one of these days.

For a blind, stupid instant, Eddie genuinely believes Bill. Believes him as readily as he had once believed his mom about all his medicine. He thinks, with Bill's arms locked around him, absolutely nothing in the universe could go wrong. That when Bill promises things were going to be fine? That things were actually going to be fine.

He gets choked with the urge to tell Bill he loves him, but swallows it down. That sort of thing felt too embarrassing sometimes at the wrong moments. Instead, he presses against Bill harder, and idly taps his cast against him.)

You gotta sign this sucker. Or draw a picture.

Got any m-markers? [Bill's smile is warm and reassuring, his chin rests against Eddie's head for a moment. He might not realize just how much, yet, but Eddie was as much his brother as Georgie. His love of the other boy was the fiercely protective love of a big brother.

He was going to draw the Lone Ranger on Eddie's cast. Something with meaning to both of them, and in a way someone to help watch over him.]

Yeah-huh. (Eddie himself had realized Bill was a whole lot like a brother he never had a while ago. It was a different perspective though when Eddie was the one Bill was watching out for. Made it easier for Eddie to realize what he had. Sometimes he even loved Bill like he might've loved his dad, had he lived.

The marker Richie had used to draw out his obnoxious 'CUTE' across a large portion of the cast was still near. He grabs it, and awkwardly pulls away from Bill long enough to grab a few other colors from nearby. He slumps back down into his original position and turns his body enough so that Bill wouldn't have to awkwardly draw on the cast.)

Ignore Richie's. He's stupid. You can draw over it.

(Which actually wasn't true, but like hell Eddie was going to tell Bill otherwise. Or anyone else for that matter- but the beauty of Bill was that he would just know not to draw over it.)

[Bill's smile is mostly hidden as he ducks his head down to focus, using black, red, and blue markers to sketch out and fill in a picture of the Lone Ranger further up the cast, leaving Richie's emphatic explanation alone.

If asked to explain Eddie and Richie, Bill would only be able to shrug and say they were just Eddie and Richie. There weren't words to explain their unusual dynamic. Bill understood it, but even with all his words he couldn't find the right ones for it.]

There, now you have n-nothing to wo-worry about. [The Lone Ranger would look out for him. Bill's neat hand adds his own name, and then a 'Hi-Ho Silver' above the lone ranger.]

(It's a cast that does far more justice for Eddie than the cast he had originally gotten when Henry broke his arm. He watches Bill with quiet awe, never quite over how Bill could just make things with his hands. God, he really was the coolest.

Eddie himself wouldn't know how to describe his relationship with Richie. Mostly, he would just shrug himself and say that he was his best friend. It was the easiest way to explain it, and Eddie didn't have near the amount of words in his vocabulary as Bill did. Some things, maybe, were better left unexplained.)

God damn. That is so awesome. Look at him! (Eddie is all grins, raising his cast up into the air to admire Bill's handiwork.

He gets struck with a very strange urge then. Maybe it was because of the demon's presence on the ship. Maybe it was because it's been so long since he's seen Bill, and he had thought that he never would again.

It isn't a gesture of affection Eddie has really given to any of his friends before (not seriously), but he doesn't think about it as he leans over to give Bill a kiss on the cheek. The same way Georgie had once felt the urge to do way back when, even though Eddie would never know it, not at all in his life.)

Thanks, Bill. It's a neat drawing.

Edited (ICON. sorry for double edit) 2017-12-18 01:56 (UTC)

[There's a double tug and a spike in Bill's chest at the gesture, and rather than say anything he hugs Eddie again, pulling him close and tight. It takes effort to make himself let go again, letting Eddie settle wherever he does.

He focuses on the Lone Ranger, and his smile is softer, smaller, but still there.]

I wonder what adventures he's getting up to these days. [The question starts a spark of an idea in Bill's head, that he hasn't even realized yet.

He ruffles his fingers through Eddie's hair, messing it up out of sorts loosely, not quite as emphatically as Richie might, but with all the fondness with which he often did the same to Georgie.]

(Eddie winds up settling exactly right there. One would be hard pressed to find Eddie far from his friends in the next upcoming few days. Between his natural inclination towards loneliness whenever he was hurt or sick, he was indulging in the fact that they could be there for each other in a way that they never could before.)

God, wouldn't that be the best to know? I miss TV sometimes. And music. God, I really miss music too.

(Hearing Tony play him a clip of music from the future had been wild and exciting.

Eddie makes a small despairing sound at his hair being ruffled. Gosh, everyone was always ruffling his hair! He doesn't protest it though, merely accepts his fate with a wrinkled nose.)

You know, it takes a lot to maintain this hair.

[Bill grins and squeezes Eddie in another hug. He doesn't tease in the same ways Richie does, but they all tease one another in their own ways. It was an easy way to show affection.]

Maybe we can m-make our own. Not TV I guess, but entertainment. I'll think on it a wh-while. [He doesn't have his typewriter, but he can write on the little devices they were given.]

Edited (hitting enter too soon) 2017-12-19 23:22 (UTC)

(It really was. Eddie was hardly an exception to the rule, even if he was often the one seeming the most sensitive to what the other boys were doing or saying. He could get at them just the same in his own way.)

We could just put Richie in a box and let him go for it. I'm sure it'd be funny.

(Eventually.)

Oh, what, like put on plays? That would actually be kinda fun.

If anyone could pull off a one man show it's R-R-Richie. [Bill smiles, and it's genuine and warm. He half considers actually looking for a box for their friend. If anything, Richie would love it.He would have a grand time doing his voices and being the center of attention for a while.]

Maybe I could w-write us something to put on. Just something small to st-start with.

I bet he'd actually be pretty funny. (It makes Eddie a little happy to think about Richie enjoying himself so much too. It was good for him to feel that way sometimes. God knows he deserved it. It does make Eddie get an idea.)

There's a theater here actually. It isn't huge, but it's in the Hall of Music. We could totally use it!

(This was starting to sound more and more fun by the second.)

Sounds like we've got a p-plan then. We'll just have to find the right story to t-tell.

[Bill's excited, too. The ideas are already rushing through his mind. For a few minutes, the demon and Eddie's injuries are put aside in favor of this idea that seems to have lifted both their spirits.

He gets up and offers Eddie a hand to help him up as well.]

We should get the others in on the brainstorming. Come on.

Edited 2017-12-21 04:20 (UTC)

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The Hannya Mask

Chemistry Unit

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sorry this post is kind of mean oops

You're the worst. I love you

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