lingeringfear | NPC Inbox: Fear

NPC Inbox: Fear

[Fear's inbox message is simply a crackling of static, with vague thumps here and there. It goes on for about thirty seconds before cutting short, like the sound was snapped off.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[the video comes on to show a scruffy guy sitting in fear's shrine. given the angle he's sitting at, his feet are probably propped up on something.]

So do you gods make deals? Cause I want cigarettes, and I'm willing to trade.

[he is also smoking one of those aforementioned cigarettes.]

[Fear tilts his head when he realizes where Peter is, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.]

We do. And I can give you what you want, if you're willing to help me.

What, in this case, does 'help you' mean? Cause if you feed on fear, man, I've got like a million delicious memory snacks in my head that could keep me in smokes for years.

[he taps his temple, as though this will illustrate anything at all.]

You can make yourself feel fear at will?

[That's interesting.]

Something like that. I have a very good memory, and there's more in the world to be afraid of than gods and monsters.

Do it now, then.

[Testing him.]

Make yourself afraid. Genuinely scared. If I can feed off of that, then I'll give you what you want. If not- [Fear shrugs, noncommittally.] -I'll ask you to frighten someone else.

[peter looks at fear for a long, silent moment, and then closes his eyes. he remembers. he remembers a fox, twisting on a rope. he remembers the sick drop in his stomach as he curls to protect his face. he remembers the endless, echoing void of looking down the barrel of a gun. he remembers kneeling before a great white wolf, waiting as she snarls. he remembers lynda, her face getting smaller in the rear window of a police car, the sick helplessness of waiting in line to talk to her at that cold metal table, her eye black and her hands chained.

it isn't hard for peter to remember how to be afraid. it's not screaming, paralyzing fear, it's the worse kind, the kind that twists up into the back of your mind and never entirely lets go, the kind of fear that you just have to learn to live with, or it'll drive you mad. usually, he keeps it in check, but for now, he lets it out, lets the unknowns and unchangables and moments of relivable terror out to play, and he takes a deep, shuddering breath.]

[He considers this for a long few moments, feeling the effect of what Peter is doing. It's interesting, at the very least, though he's not sure quite how it does for power. Still, better than he is expecting.]

Do you have them? The cigarettes.

Yeah.

[he takes a pack out of his pocket, shows that on the video, and then takes a cigarette out and shows that too.]

You want 'em on your altar?

Yes. For a moment.

[He's still not entirely sure what a cigarette is, so he needs to be able to see them in full before he can make any promises.]

[he does as asked, putting the open pack and the cigarette both down on the altar and stepping back.]

Okay, do your thing.

[He does. It doesn't look like much, because it isn't much, and after a moment, Fear nods thoughtfully.]

I see what it is now. When you wake up tomorrow, you'll have more.

Is that all?

Will you do it again when I run out? Like I said, I have plenty of memories.

Yes. As long as you continue feeding me.

You don't have to come back here for it. Once was enough.

Okay. It's a deal.

[he takes his cigarettes from the altar and lights up the one he'd taken from the pack. in the temple, but hey, carcinogens are scary, right?]

Later, Fear.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

NPC Inbox: Fear

[backdated to january arrival, video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]

[video]