seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Denmark
seen from Ukraine
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from France
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
@winged-comrade cont. from here
The blonde nods.
She offers him a tin cup. There's coffee in it. Somehow. Let no one say she didn't use her powers for good sometime. Not that it was good coffee, but it was something.
"Making my rounds, yeah. There's a bunch of other campfires to visit, this is the only one that didn't have people at it yet, but I had a feeling I needed to wait."
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The feminine urge to punch Wesker in his smug face.
"Cheryl!"
Chris emerged from the fog, seemingly having wandered from the campsite to catch up with the other, mindful of the distance to their place of rest.
"I... wanted to ask. What more could you tell me about that place, Silent Hill?"
Chris was becoming a very welcome sight, Cheryl couldn't deny that. She'd grown to like talking with him. And hey, if he was going to walk with her, then she was glad for the company.
"Hey Chris."
She smiled at him, and nodded at the question.
"Well... it's a lot. When I was there, it was all... rotted? Like, rusted metal and old bloodstains. There were monsters, things I was afraid of, like a big.. hulking mass of cancer with legs. And dogs with their faces split vertically. I heard other people have seen things that reflect their own issues. And defending myself was hard. Not a lot of ammo, I mostly used a lead pipe to just hit things until they stopped moving."
There was more, there always was.
"I had to really... accept something about who I was. I used to be Alessa, or she used to be part of me. And I had to confront her to really just... let her rest. I could do without it being on a moving carousel with twitching horses bleeding and full of rot though."
Chris emerged, his hair all out of sorts, before a hand hastily slicked it back with fingers threading.
"Hey, got that pink box."
Said box had a torn side, as if thrown and trampled on. A conscious look was given, before he made a motion to toss it to her.
"... Will that work?"
Her eyes light up at seeing the box.
She catches it, looking over the brand and crumpled instructions.
"This will be perfect! We'll need to find a place to rinse it out, but yeah! This is great!"
She throws her arms around him in a big hug.
"Thanks, Chris!"
