December Catch-all(-ish) [Open]

[odinpusrex]

WHO: Barnabas, his Behemoth (the monster, not the, oh nevermind--), and YOU!
WHEN: All through December baby!
WHERE: Mostly Stonhyrr, but some threads could be elsewhere too!
WHAT: Oh you know, big ol' fortress showed up, there's also a giant muscle cat, maybe people wanna see the fortress. Maybe they're gonna get mauled by a cat. The world is our oyster. Also going to use this for general purpose threads, doesn't have to be Behemoth related!
NOTES\WARNINGS: Will update as necessary!

While Barnabas has never proven himself the social sort, ever intending to remain as such, when people come to Stonhyrr to inspect it, they will not necessarily find him there to greet them. This does not mean that Barnabas is not within the bounds of Stonhyrr, he most assuredly is, but he has no interest in playing host. That is, unless he is given reason to.

What most will find is a singular bridge that connects the imposing fortress to the mainland, and the waters around it prove unnaturally violent. As if the very place itself causes the waters to churn and clash wildly against the jagged rocks which act as the foundation for the whole thing. The bridge is wide enough to adequately fit a pair of carriages, or cars if that better serves. The stone is sturdy, so there isn't any worry about weight being an issue. Most certainly not when one arrives at the arena that acts as a mid-point for the bridge.

There are no guard rails around it as the bridge possesses otherwise, just a sheer drop off into the treacherous waters below. Certainly a poor fate to any, whether they survive the fall or not. A fate all the more possible given the snow and bits of ice that has accumulated upon the structure. Even furthering the difficulty to avoid it, should they find themselves greeted by the bridge's guard: the Behemoth. From its rocky perch it will land with the grace of a feline, but with the impressive force of a creature befitting its size. More than twice the height of an elephant, and thrice as wide, the hulking beast will stare down the interloper(s) with murderous intent. Intent it means to make good on.

However, not everyone who crosses the bridge will meet the beast there, and should they find themselves able to make it to Stonhyrr proper, getting through the metal gates and into the winding outer paths that encircle the central castle, they will find it depressingly...empty. What living quarters there seems to be are indeed stocked with beds and linens, oddly enough, but as all else in Etraya that is not inhabited by those whisked away from their homeworlds, there is no one. They are modest, however, what one might expect for those living as communal soldiers in a medieval era.

Though, should they linger for too long, they might hear the telling breaths and foot steps of a prowling beast searching for the scent its picked up. Perhaps hiding isn't a terrible option, but who knows how much the creature cares about the architectural integrity of whatever part of the fortress they're in! Only one way to find out.

Some of the internal buildings are not merely for housing soldiers or weaponry (though said weaponry is distinctly missing presently). One may find themselves stumbling upon an podium of some sort, with six-legged horse statues on either side. The shape of the room almost suggests an arena of sorts, and the podium seems to embolden this suggestion. Perhaps it might have been a room to judge contests of combat and the like. Who is to really say? Should one linger here overlong, they might find themselves no longer alone. At least, they certainly feel as though someone is in the room with them. Someone watching them, perhaps from the shadows, or from above...

Those lucky enough to make it to the docks will find them bereft of any ships of any kind. It's clear that there probably should be some, but whoever brought this fortress in clearly did not bring any of his ships along! Though, one might take an interest in the surrounding area, and the structures nearby. Most will be empty, some with myriad things like rope, or scant pieces of wood, perhaps an empty crate or two, but it is, like most else, otherwise hollow. There are more of those weird horse statues though... The place is anything but bereft of them.

If it weren't for the behemoth prints left in the snow throughout the wide outer paths of the fortress, and its eagerness to find (and remove) intruders, the place would otherwise seem completely abandoned. Between the snow, angry waters, flashes of lightning, and claps of thunder...the place is cold, oppressive, and desolate. Should one find a way to reach the entrance to the castle, they will be stopped short from reaching the door proper. Not by the behemoth, but by the sudden emergence of Barnabas himself. A billowing pillar of black mist will form from the ground, reaching roughly the height of a man, before Barnabas takes form and the mist disperses and dissipates.

There he will stand, staring down the intruder, waiting for an explanation.

(ooc: Feel free to place your character wherever around Stonhyrr, not only just the places mentioned. Barnabas will keep an eye on any aerial intruders as well (he can also fly). Just date your top level for when this is happening, and if you wanna plot something specific or have any questions, please do not hesitate to hit me up at Zornsable or on Discord(Zanono)! Feel free to have your own threads here too if multiple people are wanting to explore the grounds of the fortress (just specify in the subject line), I can provide information, a kitty, or an old man should it be needed! Anyway, enjoy this weird haunted-ass looking place, it sucks!

I will match style, prose or action are both good ✨)

Comments

december 4th | vincent smith | silent hill 3

[banworthy]

[ There is something to be said about how much self preservation that Vincent actually has. It's increased a considerable amount since his coming to Etraya, but it's still on the moderately low end.

What can he say? His veneration and prayer have always kept him safe; the nightmarish visages that would tear most apart let him pass without question. But he recognizes - he knows - how far the Order is from him. His feelings towards Her have also become muddled, but that is a complicated issue he has no desire to tackle.

Most people would use their time to self-reflect and maybe attempt to better themselves; Vincent sees little reason why he has to do anything different than what he did before. The only reason he had a misstep is because he was dealing with an unpredictable psychopath and that is not his fault.

In short, he arrives to inspect Stonhyrr. Why not? The unwelcoming air feels much like home. He kicks some stones off the edge as he walks along the bridge. Occasionally, he pauses to walk to the side to see how far down it is. Yes, this oppressive weight feels familiar and comforting. It certainly would keep people away from him when he wants to be left alone.

He wonders if the owner of the castle is looking for anyone to take residence in one of the far-off corners; one where they need never see one another save on a bad day. One can only hope. He can't even be sure if the voice in his head is sarcastic or not.

However, he does stop when he sees the Behemoth. His head tilts to the side as he looks up at it; he acknowledges the murderous intentions but -- would it kill him? ]

So... is this free real estate or do you happen to know where the landlord is?

[ He clicks his tongue. ]

Whatever.

[ No one is around to see him be funny and it is not like the monsters of before ever spoke. Well -- he shakes his head and attempts to keep walking forward. ]

[odinpusrex]

[The beast seems to not be one for chatter.

Whether that is because it can't speak or won't is left for Vincent to guess as its wild, faintly glowing eyes stay glued on him. Snarling, it bears saliva dripped fangs, its hulking muscles flexing as it takes a stance not entirely unlike a tiger (on infinitely more steroids) about to pounce--

But then it stops. Not simply stops, but seems literally frozen in place, though not by ice, despite the weather. It is almost as if it has been frozen in time.

Vincent will be allowed some few moments to gather himself, or perhaps inspect the beast, if he truly wishes to tempt fate, but before long he will hear a voice. A low and quiet disembodied whisper, as if spoken directly into his ear, the accent certainly of a Scandinavian persuasion.]

Lust you so for death?

[Should Vincent try to find the source of the voice, he will find nothing. Just the chilling breeze and his impending doom held stark still. For the time being.]

[banworthy]

Huh.

[ Vincent is sure that he could have mustered up some intelligent thing to say at the creature abruptly freezing, but it is the only sound that comes to mind. A snide comment comes and goes in his head; he's already starting to walk past the beast to continue to try to head inside.

Lifting his hand, he touches his ear before turning to try to find the person who spoke. His eyes settle on the only other living thing on the bridge and he tilts his head at the behemoth.

Pointing at his ear, he gestures towards the beast in question. ]

A complicated question at the moment, can we put a pin in it?

[ Gesturing with both hands, he moves them fluidly through the air between both beast and him. ] We're not yet close enough for me to discuss that with you. [ Besides, he doesn't think he can emotionally manipulate it with his thoughts on death and the lust for it, as is said. ]

Anyway, if you don't mind, I would like to enter.

[odinpusrex]

[The behemoth remains still as the stone beneath them, giving Vincent no reaction, nothing. It doesn't even breathe, let alone blink. Yet the voice continues.]

And why do you wish to enter? What do you hope to find?

[What would a man like Vincent gain from entering Stonhyrr? Does he seek audience with its king, Barnabas wonders. Or does he simply have his own curiosity to sate? Need him a bastion from the populace, as the king does? There could be many reasons, and Barnabas would know them.

The thunder rumbles above.]

[banworthy]

It feels like home.

[ Vincent stares at the behemoth before walking closer to it - tilting his head at the creature, wondering how it is speaking without even breathing. ]

The oppressive nature. The silence that isn't silence.

[ His head tilts toward the thunder above. ]

All I wanted was some peace of mind. I wanted to pray and carry out my rituals to my god without being bothered by outsiders! [ His arm snaps out to gesture toward the people outside of this place. He raises his voice at the frozen beast before stepping away from it, instead. ] I'm not going to get my peace of mind, however!

Do you know why? Mm, do you have any idea why I'm not allowed it?

[ It's nice to vent to a willing audience as he lifts his hands to gesture next to his head, indicating the beast couldn't begin to understand his thinking. ]

[odinpusrex]

[Barnabas watches Vincent, undetectable by the man, as he continues to suspect and act as though the voice belongs to the behemoth. It is understandable, where else could the voice be coming from, if he did not know of Barnabas' odd little abilities.

What Vincent says, however, intrigues him. At least slightly. Another man of faith, though like as not following a false God, wishing for solace and solitude to perform his rights in peace. The dramatics are a little much, yet they are not off putting. No, there is something oddly familiar in how he acts, how...performative he is.]

I assume you will tell me.

[It is then that the behemoth's eyes shifts, looking directly at Vincent again with a blazing intensity, a breath escaping as it snarls--yet it stills once more. If some puppeteering is in order to continue this little game, then so be it.]

closed; mid-december

[banworthy]

[ Vincent is attempting to get his citadel comfortable for living (and cult practices). He does, however, have a toll that he recognizes that he has to pay to the creature guarding the bridge.

He accepts that he can't just limp home and waves his hand angrily at the Behemoth to indicate that he isn't in the mood to be chased or eaten. This isn't home and the monsters may one day attack him. (Which would be irritating on many levels.)

While he doesn't like pain or suffering (as much as the next normal person), his pettiness and vindictive nature have overrode a lot of his desires for self-preservation. This leaves him with having to appeal to the creature's stomach. Unfortunately, he doubts that he'll be able to tame the Behemoth beyond recognizing him as a food receptacle. Which is a different kind of irritating, but whatever.

All this thinking leads to the present.

Vincent has what can only be considered a large picnic basket on one arm; a folding chair and a small folding table that he's dragging along with him. He steps out of the metal gates to step onto the bridge. The picnic basket is set down first before he snaps the chair and table out. It's not too much longer that he takes out what can only be described as large dog dishes from the basket - one of which has steaks steaming and the other empty. ]

We're going to think of a name for you. [ So he says to the Behemoth as he sets the dishes down awaaaaaay from his table. ] I think that will work to both of our benefits, hm? [ Returning to the table and basket, he pulls out a medium box of wine. Unscrewing the top, he pours enough contents into the empty dog bowl that it's suitably filled before again returning to his table.

His own food is produced shortly after - also a steak and the box of wine set on top. ]

Do you think I just made that for you? Absolutely not. You're going to eat what I feel like eating and while I'm making more of it, it is something I decided for dinner. [ Some grumbling returns as he takes out his silverware to start cutting up the pieces of his steak into smaller bites. ] See? This is nice - the silence, the darkness, and the chill of the air help to enhance the flavor of what I made.

Are the steaks to your liking? Because they're to mine, so-- [ More muttering follows as he cuts another piece from his own steak to eat. ] -- I hope you appreciate the culture I'm trying to bring you. [ Anyway - names. ]

We'll put a pin in the naming tonight. [ So he says after he swallows, and appreciates the oppressive scenery around him instead. He has to set everything down to lift up the box of wine - a small toasting gesture to the Behemoth - before drinking from the open nozzle. ]

december 20th

[banworthy]

"Heathcliff" sounds like a reasonable enough name for you.

[ Vincent's voice is hoarse as he greets the Behemoth with a statement and loud coughing. A blanket is wrapped around his shoulders as he passes through the gate. He drags with him a large pot that sloshes with soup.

His head drops as he coughs louder before setting the pot down. ]

Maybe "Garfield." [ A loud sniffle follows as he wipes his nose on the blanket around his shoulders. ] Since you're a cat. [ As best as a sick person can, he sneers at the muscled beast before he shuffles to head back to the citadel.

Calling over his shoulder, he carries on between his coughing and sniffling: ] I'm not hungry and I don't want that collect anything in my house. So eat up. I can't promise I'll even be out to feed you later... so try to make it last, too.

[ His grumbling carries on as he lets out a wheezing sigh. ]

Yeah, Heathcliff sounds fine. Whatever.

december 23rd

[banworthy]

[ Breathing hot air on his hands, he wishes he hadn't thrown his mittens away at the church. But whatever, he wasn't going to use the energy to pick them back up. With his shuffling, sick steps, he makes his way across the bridge so that he can get to the citadel.

Grumbling, he feels sweaty and he's once again reminded that strangling someone is a lot more labor-intensive than he assumed that it would be. Turning his head, he glances across the bridge to the expanse around him. The oppressive silence continues to be welcome. ]

Ah, Heathcliff. [ Wheezing out, he calls to the Behemoth in greeting. He's even weaker than usual and not worth the creature's time. No sport or even mercy in it. Or just feeling lazy. Whatever the case, it doesn't really acknowledge Vincent's call. Whatever. ] Choked a man out today.

[ He flexes his fingers. ] Novel experience. I'm not really one to do those sorts of things. Don't worry, he isn't dead. [ He waves his hand like the beast would be worried at all. ] I feel like that's just what my cold needed. A nice little treat to remind me to get well.

[ Vincent wheezes as he laughs his way back to the citadel. ]

december 30th

[banworthy]

Are you serious!?

[ Against his own odds, Vincent recovered from his awful cold. His voice has regained its strength but his screaming has nothing to do with his health - it has everything to do with the egg that he received from Tatiana. (Nice of her to appear and give him something while he was coughing and hacking everywhere. He is starting to wonder what good Heathcliff is if she can't keep people away. But whatever!)

The egg hatches into a rattlesnake which he jerks back away from. It shakes its tail angrily at him before lashing out to bite. He throws an empty water bottle at the creature before scampering out of his abode barefoot. Damn thing took residence in his shoes and he has to shuffle out onto the cold stone.

Shifting around, he yells at the muscle-cat. ]

Can you believe this nonsense?! [ With wild hand gestures, he waves his hands at his home. ] Ugh... it's freezing. [ He hops one foot to the next before heading back into his home to deal with the mess, but had to commiserate with the only creature he wants to commiserate with. ]

December 7

[wolfish]

[ Backdating banzai

Yuri doesn't fail to take notice of the massive structure that pops up in their little ever-changing world. It looms dark and ominous on the horizon, something that quite contrasts the pale stone of Garreg Mach, and may more than rival it for size. Both are veritable fortresses easily seem from a distance, is the important thing, and Yuri takes note.

His first approach is an abbreviated one. He's got sharp eyes. That great big cat, bringing to mind a demonic beast in size, doesn't look like something he wants to play with.

Yet he went to the trouble of baking a seasonally appropriate pie as a housewarming gift (look, he has a sense of humor) and no Faerghan anywhere turns away from a challenge. They aren't the most sensible people, but Yuri has sense enough to come up with a strategy. So he comes back another day with a fresh pie and a little something for that great big cat he'd sooner not tango with.

That little something is a wagon full of game he's hunted up, assuming the beast will enjoy fresh meat. It was quite the endeavor to hunt up, but he has the helpful local machines to haul the wagon along for him, so he need only carry his gift for whoever it is that lives in that looming dark fort and hope that his attempt at bribery buys him enough time.

He...has outrun demonic beasts before, but he'd really rather not have to reprise that performance. ]

[odinpusrex]

[Indeed, this demon-adjacent creature is not something to take lightly, and so Yuri makes the right call to rethink his approach. And it is a decent strategy, for as smart as the beast may be, it is still a beast, and as well trained as it is, still it hungers.

Sure, its new steward has done well to feed it, but this thing is enormous! It burns calories like you can't believe, and so a wagon of fresh kills pulls its attention immediately. The companion bots are of no moment, it having long since grown used to them, but the intoxicating scent of fresh blood draws it near, knocking some of the bots to the wayside incidentally as it approaches the wagon it dwarfs to comedic effect.

That maw lined with teeth the length of a man's forearm easily snaps up whole carcasses, and it seems as though it is thoroughly occupied for Yuri to sneak past.

If he's quick about it.]

[wolfish]

[ An auspicious start to his venture, and one Yuri doesn't take for granted. Once he's certain the great beast is quite occupied with enjoying the snack, Yuri hastens to cross the bridge with his pie while the getting is good. Fortunately he can keep apace with horses with little effort on foot, so he can cover distance more swiftly than the average man.

At least back home. Who in the Goddess' name can say what's average in these parts?

All that really matters is that he hurry up and find the lord of this fine fortress, so he turns his attention to that endeavor, quick strides carrying him toward the looming structure. ]

[odinpusrex]

[Yuri is certainly granted a decent head start to say the least of it. As the behemoth gobbles down those bodies, its interest in them wanes as scraps of flesh, bone, and fur is what eventually remain by the end. Gore smeared across its face, realization hits as it turns to look towards Stonhyrr—someone is here.

A bellowing roar sounds through the area. A warning that the beast knows of an intruder. Though it matters little with Yuri stealing away into the paths of Stonhyrr and towards the fortress' castle itself.

Of course this just means that Barnabas is keenly aware that someone is here, someone who should not be, and so he turns his attention to the fortress' grounds, searching among the sound and aetheric pulses that might alert him the interloper's presence.

When Yuri eventually finds his way to any of the entrances to the castle itself, he will be greeted with a voice. Low, almost like a whisper, yet crystal clear, as if the words were spoken directly into his ear.]

You are come for what reason?

[wolfish]

[ The voice arrests Yuri's movement, foreign as it is to him to have one seem so near, yet with no physical presence to accompany. Before all this, there weren't any disembodied voices suddenly cropping up in there. When he glances around, sure enough, he appears to be quite alone.

Will he ever acclimate to this sort of thing? Doubtful. ]

Just a little housewarming gift. My people have customs, you see.

[ Casual as his voice is, the words ring true. Faerghans may be poor in food resources, but that only served to make them double down on observing formalities involving the sharing or gifting of it. An emphasis on guest-host relations for one, how to properly welcome a neighbor for another, or an occasion such as this.

Usually someone has purchased or finished building the "home", sure, but popping up out of seemingly nowhere is how it works around here. Yuri's not skimping on Faerghan hospitality on a technicality. ]

Birthday boy greetings

[levindicated]

[After copious amounts of snooping, Cid eventually figures out where Barnabas actually is. It would have been much easier with Gav, but no such luck. ]

[He never knew formally and precisely when the king’s birthday was, but there were rumors it was in the winter, and around now was when he was dourest of all.]

[Either way, Cid has driven up on a strange little motorcycle and drives it up the harrowingly long dock gates with a gift bag of booze round the handles.]

Oh boy!!

[odinpusrex]

[The approach of anyone is enough to pull the behemoth's attention, but the motor bike? That's just asking for it. As he makes his approach, the beast leaps down to cut him off, landing with enough force to shake the very foundations of the path, though the stone holds firm. It breathes out hotly, a growl growing in its throat as it stares Cid down with glowing eyes full of killing intent.

It sniffs the air audibly as it approaches, head lowered, muscles tensed--then it stops. Staring at him with an inquisitive expression (or its near approximation given its monstrous countenance). There is a distinct aura of recognition radiating off of the beast.

It knows this man.]

[levindicated]

[Cid cuts tight against the ground, dragging to a stop before the massive beast’s paw. He kicks one long leg over the back of the bike and laughs as he comes round with spread arms. ]

Idunn, my girl!

[odinpusrex]

[Idunn responds with a low rumble that reverberates the surrounding area as she approaches Cid. Her face doesn't look softer, exactly, it's hard for such a terrible beast to look anything but murderous, but the intelligence in her eyes makes it clear to those who helped tame such a beast in the first place that she doesn't mean ill.

Or it would seem so, but that big paw lifts before connecting with Cid's chest, pushing him down onto the ground with quite a bit of force. Though not enough to actually do the damage she could, but hitting that stony ground with that hefty paw, subsequently pinning him, isn't comfortable or without its harms. Still, she does not put more pressure on him than is necessary to hold him in place as she brings her head around to sniff and breathe on his face.

As if she needed to further verify who he was...]

[levindicated]

[And he was so certain she wouldn’t do that. Why? Was he stupid? No matter. He laughs, though the casual pressure of a Behemoth foot does not allow his lungs to refill with air. He taps her foot with his mercifully untrapped forearm and wheezes.]

Come on, girl, let me up!

[As she just makes his exposed face hot and damp. And smell sort of like Behemoth breath. ]

Vincent

[levindicated]

[Cid finds himself taking a nostalgic little walk around Stonhyrr. It’s eerie, empty, like he’s never seen it before. It’s quiet, devoid of like, and this is precisely why he notices movement in the plaza going into an abode.]

[He cannot resist. He comes on down and knocks directly on this man’s door. ]

Hellooo?

[He calls through the door, part of him thinking he must have imagined it. Barnabas had to know he was here. ]

[banworthy]

[ Who?

Coughing loudly, he rises from his bed - the blankets wrapped around him. He sniffles as he hears the knocking and the voice.

That's not my neighbor.

It's the immediate thought. The second thought is wondering who it is and how they know he's here. Swallowing, he makes a face at how raw his throat feels. But he gets up so that he can shuffle his way to see who is visiting him. Best to find out since they got past Heathcliff.

Opening up the door a crack, he peers out. An unfamiliar man is on the other side of the door; he doesn't even think he's irritated this one (and he has no idea why people would be irritated with him, to begin with, but his thoughts digress).

Squinting, he stares at the man's chest before he sneers and closes the door.

It's not too much later that the door opens fully and he has a small spray bottle in hand. He holds it out spritzing the air about where the man's bare chest is. ]

Hope your chest hair freezes unevenly. Now what do you want?

[levindicated]

[He jumps back with spread arms, looking immediately offended. And baffled. He hopes his chest hair freezes? What the fuck? And that’s the prerequisite to talking to this guy?]

Have you lost your mind?

[He goes to wipe his chest with his glove, but it doesn’t work out since it’s leather.]

[banworthy]

Not at all. I'm quite sane.

[ His voice croaks along, but he remains firm that he's quite sound in mind.

And he feels a moment of bliss at seeing the man look so upset. ]

How'd you get past Heathcliff? How do people keep getting past Heathcliff?

[ The latter question is asked in a more offended tone. ]

[levindicated]

Quite.

[He looks at the other plague-ridden man and sighs. He lets himself in since he’s letting all the warm air out. ]

Who is Heathcliff?

[Asked absolutely incredulously. He folds his arms and looks around at what he’s done with the place. ]

What’s Barnabas think about you being here?