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@heatherfightsmonsters
Silent Hill 3 caps
Available for anyone who wants to use them, no credit needed but super appreciated. All these caps are 3840x2160. Some of the characters have sub folders to divvy up the caps into more manageable downloads, but if there are any issues, please feel free to let me know!
In this folder, you will find: Claudia Wolf | Douglas Cartland | Heather Mason | Vincent Smith
Folders can be found [ here ] Buy me a [ ko-fi ] if you’d like!
the sound of silence
Cheryl’s whole body ached already, and they hadn’t even reached the outskirts of the town. She’d been clenching her jaw and her fists, felt her every muscle wind tighter and tighter since they’d gotten into the car hours ago.
Josh had no idea what he was getting himself into.
As the sun set, the mist crept in. She felt the change in her bones like radio static when they passed the Welcome sign, though the fog was so thick, they couldn’t actually see it next to the road. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and counted her ammo for the tenth time.
Less than a minute later, the car’s engine sputtered and died. They coasted to a stop along the side of the road.
Cheryl loaded a clip into her handgun.
“I don’t know what you’re gonna find here,” she said, “but we won’t be leaving until this town is damn well done with you.”
heatherfightsmonsters
“Because you’re too cocky.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink.
“Did you drag me out here just to watch you feel sorry for yourself, or did you actually have something interesting in mind?”
Josh lifted a brow, more out of habit than exasperation. He couldn’t really blame her impatience. He tended to land on the dramatic end of the spectrum, so her own straightforwardness was a wonted formality. Kind of cherished, in a wistful, nostalgic, single punch-to-the-gut manner.
“What? You don’t like being on your toes? Thought that was the only way to keep you around.” Whiskey’s bitterness fought its way through constricted gullet, clear, smooth rim attached to lips. He tipped back in his seat, teeth reflexively bared- gripping the shot glass before sternly placing emptied contents onto the bar. Save for some inescapable backwash. “Not looking to catch up on the miseries and woes life has to offer? I’m sure yours has had its own share of demons. Not everything is easily spelled out, Cheryl.” He leaned forward, elbow draped across slick counter. “Besides, maybe I just missed ya. Is that a crime? Not very exciting, I know, but also not exactly illegal.”
For a moment, Cheryl wanted to....well, she wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to do. Throw her glass, probably. Breaking something sounded pretty good right now. But she wasn’t petty enough to make a mess like that, and she was also loath to give him the satisfaction of watching her lose control.
Instead, she sighed and leaned back against the wall next to the bar.
“Last time you missed me, I had to finish a fight you started because you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut,” she reminded him. “If that guy hadn’t already been on the bar’s shit list, I’d probably still be on probation.”
Cracking a guy across the face with a pint glass and breaking both of his wrists generally wasn’t something you’d get away with. But the four people who witnessed it swore he fell off his stool, and he wasn’t in any shape to protest.
She smirked.
“He did totally deserve it, though,” she admitted.
“ I’ve got the world on a string in my back pocket. So how come I’m feeling so poor? ”
@madmaryholiday
“Because you’re too cocky.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink.
“Did you drag me out here just to watch you feel sorry for yourself, or did you actually have something interesting in mind?”
Getting characters to meet and interact for the first time can be tough to play out.
Lots of people find the first meetings between strangers to be difficult to plan, or boring to play.
Reblog this if you don’t mind skipping the intro RP and instead jump-starting interactions by plotting out what relationship your characters might have, be they friends, enemies, lovers, antagonists, etc.
Reblog if you want anons about your muse’s worst memories.
Repressed or not, dig into my muse’s past and make them talk about things they wish they could forget.
butigotaletter:
heatherfightsmonsters:
As she got closer, she recognized the signs of, well, something. What it was, she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but the stranger seemed distressed about something. And he was…what was it? Cheryl suddenly felt uneasy, but she tried not to let it show in her expression.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t think so. You just looked lost. Need help with something?”
“Lost?” Something about that word echoed through his mind. A female voice with a warning. But about what? “No, I know my way around. it’s just…” scratchy scratchy scratchy itchy itchy itchy claw it away shread it to pieces just rip it- “I’ve lost something though, but I can’t remember… Could you, maybe, help me?”
Cheryl regarded the man warily.
“Oh, uhm. Sure,” she replied.
Something was weird about this guy.
Cheryl shook the feeling off and continued.
“Do you have an idea of where to start? Having a direction tends to make things easier.”
butigotaletter:
heatherfightsmonsters:
Ordinarily, Cheryl wouldn’t have bothered with catching the stranger’s attention.
Today, though, she smiled and waved. Neutral enough, but not too confrontational. Cheryl hated confrontations
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Itchy. It won’t stop. Itchy arm. Scratch the itch, It doesn’t stop. Still itchy, very itchy, why is it itchy? Something under the sleeve. Scratch the itch. Harder. Claw at it till it’s gone. Scratch away everything so the itch can’t come back- Someone is waving in his direction. Looking around, he didn’t see anyone but himself. It seemed to have been directed at James. “Uh, hello… I’m sorry, do I know you?” His thoughts. What were they? Whenever he tried to grasp them, they slipped away. Maybe that was a good thing; maybe it was delaying the inevitable.
As she got closer, she recognized the signs of, well, something. What it was, she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but the stranger seemed distressed about something. And he was...what was it? Cheryl suddenly felt uneasy, but she tried not to let it show in her expression.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t think so. You just looked lost. Need help with something?”
Ordinarily, Cheryl wouldn’t have bothered with catching the stranger’s attention.
Today, though, she smiled and waved. Neutral enough, but not too confrontational. Cheryl hated confrontations
“Penny for your thoughts?”
confession
continued from [here] (ages ago, because i’m shit at remembering to reply. at least, i don’t think i ever replied to this.)
---
Cheryl wanted to be angry.
Indeed, a sudden, painful flame of disgust and fury rose in her throat for a moment that felt like an eternity. But Claudia had wanted her to Hate, had tried to goad her into nurturing the demon in her belly by feeding that fury.
And it wasn’t worth it.
So instead, she looked away, studied the spiderweb of cracks in the wall opposite her. Hate wasn’t going to get her anywhere, but what could she replace it with? What else was there?
“You’re a shitty human being,” she stared distantly. “Or at least, you were. I can’t pretend I don’t resent you for what you did. Or didn’t do, I guess.”
Her eyes flickered back to his, holding Vincent’s gaze in a way that was probably a little painful for him. It was certainly painful for Cheryl.
“But I can’t hate you,” she continued. “Hate is what almost ended the fucking world back there. I’m not sure if I can accept the apology yet, but I won’t let hate poison me again.”
She gave him a slightly bitter smile.
“Shit happened. All we can do is deal with the aftermath.”
Vincent would have coldly told Janet she had no reason to use such crude language with him, but he resisted the urge. Once again, he felt it would be best to be polite towards Cheryl’s friends, just in case the blonde lost her temper in response to any rudeness. “I’m sure the wine will be wonderful,” he said, dull eyes not matching his smile as he glanced at the waitress. “Thank you, miss.”
He poured himself a glass once she departed - Might as well enjoy it if it’s here, he thought - and he took a sip as Cheryl spoke. “I can tell… Not that I have a problem with perky people, of course. They’re just a rare breed in Silent Hill.” Vincent grinned over the rim of his glass before setting it down. “But I’m sure you knew that, right?”
He said nothing more, waiting for Cheryl to resume the conversation. Vincent had already decided not to tell her anything about the Order if she didn’t specifically ask about it. The one exception would be if he felt she was actually in danger. For the priest knew in his heart that he didn’t exactly help her as much as he claimed. He did nothing to prevent Harry’s death; he did nothing to stop Claudia himself, except give Cheryl advice that turned out to be meaningless in the end, and then he’d gone and gotten himself stabbed.
Perhaps, Vincent had sought out Cheryl… to apologize. Not that he’d do that just now - he’d wait until they were somewhere other than a sleazy bar for that. Vincent didn’t fancy having Cheryl possibly blow up at or even attack him in a room full of her friends and acquaintances, when he was a stranger to all but Cheryl herself.
“Oh, She’s certainly ‘waiting’ for you,” Vincent said, “but She can’t be conceived without the Order’s help. And, as I don’t want Paradise anymore than you do, you can trust me when I say I don’t have any interest in God’s birth. I’m simply telling you not to relax just because Claudia is dead.”
“...Right,” Cheryl said, a little quieter than she’d intended.
The subsequent silence went on so long that Janet returned with the burger and extra napkins. She also dropped two small plates on the table--all the easier to share the food--with a slightly cheeky grin.
“Don’t be shy, kiddo,” she said to Cheryl, before smiling warmly at Vincent. “You don’t be shy, either. I can tell you’re tryin’ to be polite. We like a little fire ‘round here. You speak up if you want something; I know Cheryl will.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes.
“Janet, your Georgia is showing,” she warned.
“Hospitality is not a solely ‘southern’ thing,” Janet insisted, but she ambled off toward another customer just the same.
Cheryl snorted but didn’t bother to reply. The burger was here, after all, and she was half starved. She carved out a generous slice, scraping the escaping “fixin’s” onto her plate with her fork, and dug in.
Heaven.
“It’s good grease,” she reassured Vincent. “Not your fast-food bullshit. Aunt Mimi doesn’t cut corners.”
Then she glanced over at him, uneasy again.
“So who’s gunning for me to birth the fucking thing now?” she asked quietly.
Cheryl rolled her eyes.
“You’re not capable of being direct,” she said. “Getting it over with is still going to take awhile.”
She picked at the edge of the table, wondering how much he knew. If he’d been following her for long. Where she’d been watched when she thought she was alone. A tiny bubble of paranoia rose in the back of her throat, but she stamped it down immediately.
“It’s a job,” she said eventually in reply to the second question. “And the guys there stopped harassing me pretty quick after I deadlifted one of them. A couple of them go to my gym now.”
After a moment, she glanced up at Vincent again.
“I shot a god in the face repeatedly with a shotgun, bashed it with a mace, and kicked it a few times for good measure,” she said evenly. “I don’t know what more you want me to say.”
Vincent smirked. “Oh, I very much am capable of being direct. I just don’t feel like it right now.” He leaned back slightly in his seat, mismatched eyes roaming around the bar, hunting for their waitress. If her service was quick, he could forgive Janet’s “helpful” efforts to change his order. “We have to save some conversation for the drinks, you know. It’s only polite.”
The priest listened as Cheryl discussed her job. He wasn’t surprised she had been able to overpower her coworkers - if she could kill God, she could injure a mere human. Of course, he supposed some might be intimidated by what the blonde was saying, and perhaps she was trying to intimidate him in some way. Vincent highly disliked physical violence, and he lost more fights than he won, but he wouldn’t let Cheryl get to him. As long as I have information she wants, she won’t touch me.
It was here that Vincent let out a laugh, and he leaned across the table, wearing a dangerous grin. “Silly little Cheryl… Don’t you realize that was the third time God’s been here? She isn’t going to stay dead just because you succeeded once. You’re so naive.” Vincent’s eyes seemed to flash briefly as he watched Cheryl, but he did not pause yet. “Even without a physical form, She’s still alive - my God just needs a vessel to provide Her with a body, as a mother would bring a child into this world. Why, as long as you are alive, no matter if you go by Cheryl, Heather, or Alessa…”
Vincent’s grin widened even as his words ceased, and the Order priest was confident that his dear friend would know exactly what he had left unsaid.
Cheryl tried not to show her uneasiness.
“What, so is someone else trying to make me birth your god again?” she asked, keeping her voice level.
At that moment, Janet returned with their drinks. She set Cheryl’s down first, grinning. Must have misinterpreted Cheryl’s expression. She was equally friendly when she placed a glass of wine on the table in front of Vincent, along with the bottle.
“This is the good shit,” she informed him. “Or at least, it’s better than the house wine. Let me know if you’d rather try something else. We’ve got a few more.”
She looked back to Cheryl and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, a habit Cheryl was relatively certain was compulsive.
“Your food’ll be out soon,” she said. “Aunt Mimi got a head start on her burgers tonight. You know how she gets; everybody else is just trying to stay out of her way. I’ll bring some extra napkins out with the food, but let me know if you need anything else.”
With a little wave, Janet headed back toward the bar.
“Sorry,” Cheryl said, taking a sip of her spiked coffee. “Janet is really, uh, perky. It’s probably the caffeine.”
An awkward pause, and she cleared her throat.
“So. About that whole thing with your demon god waiting in the wings for me to finally birth it...”
Can you rebagle this if you’d rp with a new blog, Me and Terrence need friends. We will: post it forward, blog recs, send greeters. Bunnysniper is written by Sousuke. Thanks for the add every one. ^^
Playlist meme! :)
since vincent is the only one cheryl has interacted with...
6-song playlist based on our muses’ relationship:
“you grew on me” by tim minchin
“poison and wine” by the civil wars
“your guts (i hate ‘em)” by reel big fish
“you don’t know” by reel big fish
“heaven knows” by the pretty reckless
“the mother we share” by chvrches
(omg this was really difficult, since cheryl is still mostly in “i want to drop-kick you into the sun” mode with vincent, lol. tried to make it funny, at least, but this is the best i could do. O.o thanks for the challenge!)
SEND ME YOUR URL FOR A SIX SONG PLAYLIST BASED ON OUR MUSES RELATIONSHIP.
”I feel like I’m gonna go crazy myself sooner or later. I might even already be crazy. Who knows?“
— Heather Mason | SILENT HILL 3
