Post by Deleted on Jun 28, 2021 3:30:43 GMT -6
Clancy is bored. Hell of a thing to be in a neverending nightmare world, bored, but well. Death isn't quite death if there are no stakes, is it? If you don't have to accept the fact that this is the end of your stupid little life, why even call it that? Death is spinning blades an inch too close to your eyes. Death is electricity arcing through you with the scent of your own flesh burning following close behind it. Death is twisted flesh and swarms of flies and laughter-screaming-laughter.
The knowledge that you'll wake up in a few minutes right as rain alienates the Entity's entire world from the very concept of "death," because death implies an ending. A period, where here the Entity just grasps onto your hand and keeps scribbling until the pencil is worn down to nothing and your hands are bloodied from her unbreakable grip.
... Still hurts like a bitch, though. They figure they can make an allowance and call it murder all the same.
Either way! Clancy is fucking bored. The survivor camp holds nothing of particular interest at the moment, all the fun players out getting murdered or something like that. They've done their share of trials, and they don't envy them, but honestly. Clancy's own stupid afterlife and they're bored?
He knew he could find something to do, but he had been wandering the boundless forest for what felt like hours until something clicked. What about the killers? For the most part, he avoided the killers like the plague (no offense to The Plague, she seemed like an alright enough girl) when they were particularly distasteful to him. Otherwise, he barely remembered they existed. None of them seemed into conversation, and that made them boring in Clancy's book.
Still, Clancy walked the woods, looking for something to fucking do. The shadows were starting to get to him. At least at the car wreck place, there was something to look at, something you could find yourself getting caught up in, you know?
And, well. Wasn't that an idea? The Wraith was one of the few killers Clancy found himself genuinely interested in. The ringing of their bell was mesmerizing, and he loved watching them fade in and out of sight as the Entity's curse bled over their skin like a brand. Also, they weren't afraid to get rude, and it was kind of hilarious.
Autohaven it was, then! Clancy focused his attention and found a path forming below his feet. He arrived at the gates to the junkyard and peaked out, searching for his acquaintance. Acquaintance? Coworker? Source of amusement? All worked, so he didn't bother with deliberating. He couldn't actually see their tall form, but that didn't mean much when the killer in question's main ability was literally to become invisible. Clancy stepped out into the towering forest of scrapped cars without bothering to be stealthy, looking for anything that might catch his interest in the quiet yard.
The knowledge that you'll wake up in a few minutes right as rain alienates the Entity's entire world from the very concept of "death," because death implies an ending. A period, where here the Entity just grasps onto your hand and keeps scribbling until the pencil is worn down to nothing and your hands are bloodied from her unbreakable grip.
... Still hurts like a bitch, though. They figure they can make an allowance and call it murder all the same.
Either way! Clancy is fucking bored. The survivor camp holds nothing of particular interest at the moment, all the fun players out getting murdered or something like that. They've done their share of trials, and they don't envy them, but honestly. Clancy's own stupid afterlife and they're bored?
He knew he could find something to do, but he had been wandering the boundless forest for what felt like hours until something clicked. What about the killers? For the most part, he avoided the killers like the plague (no offense to The Plague, she seemed like an alright enough girl) when they were particularly distasteful to him. Otherwise, he barely remembered they existed. None of them seemed into conversation, and that made them boring in Clancy's book.
Still, Clancy walked the woods, looking for something to fucking do. The shadows were starting to get to him. At least at the car wreck place, there was something to look at, something you could find yourself getting caught up in, you know?
And, well. Wasn't that an idea? The Wraith was one of the few killers Clancy found himself genuinely interested in. The ringing of their bell was mesmerizing, and he loved watching them fade in and out of sight as the Entity's curse bled over their skin like a brand. Also, they weren't afraid to get rude, and it was kind of hilarious.
Autohaven it was, then! Clancy focused his attention and found a path forming below his feet. He arrived at the gates to the junkyard and peaked out, searching for his acquaintance. Acquaintance? Coworker? Source of amusement? All worked, so he didn't bother with deliberating. He couldn't actually see their tall form, but that didn't mean much when the killer in question's main ability was literally to become invisible. Clancy stepped out into the towering forest of scrapped cars without bothering to be stealthy, looking for anything that might catch his interest in the quiet yard.