[the door is nearly ripped off its hinges, and ash squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the end, curling himself into a tight ball.
when it doesn't come immediately, he cracks an eye open.
being that he's done a good job of staying hidden up until now, and again, he's new here, ash knows virtually nothing about the killer stalking them tonight. it isn't an exaggeration to say that he's expecting the absolute worst. the doctor with the skinned face. the gnarled hag with claws like branches and skin like tree bark. cheryl.
but what he isn't expecting is— her. this statuesque, slender, gorgeous woman. she's built like a model and nearly dripping with (pus) gold. her ceremonial headdress is a cumbersome, ornate thing that covers most of the (decaying flesh) upper part of her face, but not her sharp (exposed) cheekbones nor her pretty, plump lips (which are nearly rotting off her face). there's terrible darkness emanating from her, but also undeniable beauty.
ash might be smitten. he might also be completely batshit insane. either way, he's taken out of the urgency of the moment, his eyes wide and doe-like as they gaze up at adiris with something approximating genuine, stupidly earnest awe.]
looks of anger and fear — that adiris is used to upon discovering a survivor hiding within lockers, beneath beds, and around corners where they don't think she would see them. the lambs to be sacrificed and please her gods wants and needs over her own, and with hopes that the sick in babylon will eventually be cured thanks to the blood on her hands.
human sacrifices are rare and far between in babylon, but if this is what her gods desire then she will sacrifice each and every last one to please her gods.
there is the slightest pause as her eyebrows furrow. why does the strange one not run? why does he not scream? has he accepted his fate? there's no more arguing over his loved ones like he mentions through test; adiris believed he would fight back the moment they meet.
the scent flowing gently out of the censer is no use when she decides to release bile over the distracted survivor. an easy point blank target who doesn't move from his spot. to think she doesn't use the blood from the fountains yet.
[the moment (????) is officially shattered when adiris opens her mouth. of all the ways ash is prepared to die, getting showered in an avalanche of putrid bile isn't one of them. he's so caught off guard that he doesn't even have time to shut his mouth or close his eyes.
which is kind of a problem, given the sheer amount of it adiris releases all over the locker. it doesn't spew out at ash so much as shoot out with the force of a fire hose. it overflows in the locker. the smell of incense is utterly snuffed out by the stench of stomach acid and rotting flesh. ash chokes on it just as much as he sputters for air as he brings his hands up to ineffectively shield himself.
a flood of bile spills out all over the ground; with it comes ash himself. it has the unintended side effect of turning the asylum's floor into the world's filthiest slip and slide, allowing ash to slide out from under adiris' grasping hands, literally missing her by inches.
in another room down the hallway, one of the generators rumbles to life.]
[ there are others who deserve punishment by her hands, but this man — this strange one who glides out of her hands when she nearly takes hold of him — brings in the evil that lurks in the woods. an evil that will stain the beauty of her gods world. therefore, it must be cleansed and destroyed before anything else should happen.
ashley williams deserves to be sacrificed for his foolish attempts, that adiris believes deep withing her heart while pushing other thoughts away. this is not a mistake and it is not her in the wrong.
(... if she's wrong, then what's the point of doing this? what's the point of her own chance at helping her people? at pleasing the sea goat?) ]
You will be punished!
[ a scream that echoes throughout the hallways as she ignores the direction of the now running generator. their deaths will follow after she is done with him. immediately she follows, the gold she wears glittering beneath lerys flickering lights, and releases a stream of bile the moment she sets her sights on the running man. ]
[the stealthy pitter-patter of footsteps on the opposite end of the hallway is drowned out by ash's louder, clumsier feet as he scrambles to get his bearings and run at the same time. no such luck. trying to keep his balance is like trying to dash across ice without skates. his shoes squeak obscenely on the cracked tiles slathered in greenish brown bile. god, it's even in his eyes, and the stench, holy shit—
one of his legs buckles. ash pinwheels his arms, desperately trying to stay afloat in a sea of filth. somehow, he manages to kick off the ground without falling flat on his ass, and the surge of dizzying, manic, wonderful triumph that surges through him is like a much needed shot of adrenaline straight to his heart, better than water, air—
until he sees a glint of gold catching off the side of a rusty gurney. for some ungodly reason that defies all human logic and common sense, ash looks over his shoulder.
adiris' dress billows behind her like a character straight from a victorian ghost story, the chain of her thurible clanking as she storms toward him. lery's sickly lighting does nothing to conceal the worst of the damage the disease has done to her; now that they're out in the open, ash can see everything. one of her eye sockets is empty, oozing like an open sore. her other intact one looks so righteously pissed off that it makes whatever she screams at him sound like a grumble.
or that could just be the puke.
ash tries to outrun it, and for a split second as he dashes past the open doors to the operating theater where faint mechanical tinkering can be heard, it seems like he might actually succeed. until he starts to skid. his feet give out from under him and he goes sliding the rest of the way, spinning like a bowling ball around the corner, straight into a makeshift archway bracketed by stacked wooden pallets.
he accidentally hits one of the pallets with his leg and brings it down.]
[ an irate, garbled groan leaves her throat; the golden helm shifts the moment lumber makes contact with her head. there is still a certain amount of vanity left in adiris that has her adjust the headpiece back in place before showing off the raw strength of the entity's gifts and her frustration combined: splinters fly off with one swing before she slams it down, breaking the pallet in half.
she has a duty to fulfill with blood sacrifices, but also an itch to scratch as she follows the trail blood and vomit on the ground. ashley williams grows more and more vexing despite only seeing him for a few minutes — perhaps one to be killed by her own hands? will the sea goat allow her this? her god needs blood and flesh for its claws to grab hold and skewer.
(the god of creation and the sea uses spider legs for convenience, surely.)
loosening her hold on the chain, adiris lets the chain slide down long enough for it to reach near double its length. it's once ash is in her sights that she tries to throw it towards him, aiming her censer — the bottom of it sharp enough to make a man bleed with enough force — towards his legs in attempt to trip him once more.
the faster survivors forces adiris to learn how to catch people better. the one with the red hair is always quick on her feet, but the moment she's caught adiris knows the others can be as well. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(2/2) i'm sorry
when it doesn't come immediately, he cracks an eye open.
being that he's done a good job of staying hidden up until now, and again, he's new here, ash knows virtually nothing about the killer stalking them tonight. it isn't an exaggeration to say that he's expecting the absolute worst. the doctor with the skinned face. the gnarled hag with claws like branches and skin like tree bark. cheryl.
but what he isn't expecting is— her. this statuesque, slender, gorgeous woman. she's built like a model and nearly dripping with (pus) gold. her ceremonial headdress is a cumbersome, ornate thing that covers most of the (decaying flesh) upper part of her face, but not her sharp (exposed) cheekbones nor her pretty, plump lips (which are nearly rotting off her face). there's terrible darkness emanating from her, but also undeniable beauty.
ash might be smitten. he might also be completely batshit insane. either way, he's taken out of the urgency of the moment, his eyes wide and doe-like as they gaze up at adiris with something approximating genuine, stupidly earnest awe.]
simp spotted
looks of anger and fear — that adiris is used to upon discovering a survivor hiding within lockers, beneath beds, and around corners where they don't think she would see them. the lambs to be sacrificed and please her gods wants and needs over her own, and with hopes that the sick in babylon will eventually be cured thanks to the blood on her hands.
human sacrifices are rare and far between in babylon, but if this is what her gods desire then she will sacrifice each and every last one to please her gods.
there is the slightest pause as her eyebrows furrow. why does the strange one not run? why does he not scream? has he accepted his fate? there's no more arguing over his loved ones like he mentions through test; adiris believed he would fight back the moment they meet.
the scent flowing gently out of the censer is no use when she decides to release bile over the distracted survivor. an easy point blank target who doesn't move from his spot. to think she doesn't use the blood from the fountains yet.
later, perhaps, if he somehow gets away. ]
no subject
which is kind of a problem, given the sheer amount of it adiris releases all over the locker. it doesn't spew out at ash so much as shoot out with the force of a fire hose. it overflows in the locker. the smell of incense is utterly snuffed out by the stench of stomach acid and rotting flesh. ash chokes on it just as much as he sputters for air as he brings his hands up to ineffectively shield himself.
a flood of bile spills out all over the ground; with it comes ash himself. it has the unintended side effect of turning the asylum's floor into the world's filthiest slip and slide, allowing ash to slide out from under adiris' grasping hands, literally missing her by inches.
in another room down the hallway, one of the generators rumbles to life.]
no subject
ashley williams deserves to be sacrificed for his foolish attempts, that adiris believes deep withing her heart while pushing other thoughts away. this is not a mistake and it is not her in the wrong.
(... if she's wrong, then what's the point of doing this? what's the point of her own chance at helping her people? at pleasing the sea goat?) ]
You will be punished!
[ a scream that echoes throughout the hallways as she ignores the direction of the now running generator. their deaths will follow after she is done with him. immediately she follows, the gold she wears glittering beneath lerys flickering lights, and releases a stream of bile the moment she sets her sights on the running man. ]
no subject
one of his legs buckles. ash pinwheels his arms, desperately trying to stay afloat in a sea of filth. somehow, he manages to kick off the ground without falling flat on his ass, and the surge of dizzying, manic, wonderful triumph that surges through him is like a much needed shot of adrenaline straight to his heart, better than water, air—
until he sees a glint of gold catching off the side of a rusty gurney. for some ungodly reason that defies all human logic and common sense, ash looks over his shoulder.
adiris' dress billows behind her like a character straight from a victorian ghost story, the chain of her thurible clanking as she storms toward him. lery's sickly lighting does nothing to conceal the worst of the damage the disease has done to her; now that they're out in the open, ash can see everything. one of her eye sockets is empty, oozing like an open sore. her other intact one looks so righteously pissed off that it makes whatever she screams at him sound like a grumble.
or that could just be the puke.
ash tries to outrun it, and for a split second as he dashes past the open doors to the operating theater where faint mechanical tinkering can be heard, it seems like he might actually succeed. until he starts to skid. his feet give out from under him and he goes sliding the rest of the way, spinning like a bowling ball around the corner, straight into a makeshift archway bracketed by stacked wooden pallets.
he accidentally hits one of the pallets with his leg and brings it down.]
no subject
she has a duty to fulfill with blood sacrifices, but also an itch to scratch as she follows the trail blood and vomit on the ground. ashley williams grows more and more vexing despite only seeing him for a few minutes — perhaps one to be killed by her own hands? will the sea goat allow her this? her god needs blood and flesh for its claws to grab hold and skewer.
(the god of creation and the sea uses spider legs for convenience, surely.)
loosening her hold on the chain, adiris lets the chain slide down long enough for it to reach near double its length. it's once ash is in her sights that she tries to throw it towards him, aiming her censer — the bottom of it sharp enough to make a man bleed with enough force — towards his legs in attempt to trip him once more.
the faster survivors forces adiris to learn how to catch people better. the one with the red hair is always quick on her feet, but the moment she's caught adiris knows the others can be as well. ]