She drifts. She drifts and she dreams and she lays on the sand not waking for what feels like eternity.
When she finally awakens, she just follows along with a sense of having missed something. It's a terribly familiar feeling, honestly, and she's not sure what to do with it, except to follow along with the villagers who help her.
She says nothing the entire time, quiet and watchful, almost unnervingly so. The first words she utters are a quiet, "thank you," when she accepts food, though she only sits with it in her lap. She feels hungry, but only vaguely. It's not enough to make her actually feel like eating.
The explanations wash over her and, while she's sure she's not dreaming, she's not sure how much of 'reality' this is either. It's disorienting.
"A traveling musician and a singer... I suppose it's not terrible. It's not far off." She mutters aloud as she looks at the passport before she puts it away, staring straight ahead. "This could all be worse."
It's said matter-of-factly, like perhaps if she says it out loud it will make it more true.
B. They Sleep
Nothing good comes from empty caskets like that. Ruka lingers with a frown, watching the burial boats with a growing sense of unease. That can't be all there is to it, is there? She supposes she can't say anything against their burial beliefs though. Better than whatever her island home had going on.
But as she lingers, she feels that odd, uneasy feeling tugging at her very soul, drawing her closer to the water's edge. She doesn't look in, very deliberately avoiding it so as not to see her warped face in her reflection. Moonlight Syndrome meant failing to recognize oneself in a reflection, and she didn't want to aggravate it.
That doesn't mean she's safe though.
She sways, her eyelids feeling heavy and her vision tunneling to a pinpoint before she begins to collapse, likely headed right for a collision with the water unless someone grabs her.
C. Ill Met by Moonlight
She hates the moon.
The full moon brings a familiar frenzying feeling, a desperate need to be up high, high, high and close to it. It's not a strong urge--her Moonlight Syndrome hasn't advanced at all--but the pull is there. It makes her breath catch and a feeling of primal fear well up in her at the eclipse. It's wrong.
As if driven by instinct she goes to wherever a piano might be set up--an inn or tavern for the locals? Someone's house she breaks into? Who knows, there's a piano SOMEWHERE and Ruka has found it. She plays, calm and gentle at first, and then growing increasingly desperate as her mind fails to remember the entire thing. It loops and lingers, haunting, but beautiful.
It works on some corpses, but maybe not others. Some still try to get in where she is, while Ruka plays on and on until her fingers ache, until they crack and bleed and still she plays.
Those with memory issues might find themselves starting to remember bits and pieces of things they wouldn't normally when the music plays. Even those without memory problems might find themselves resonating with the music, conjuring up some kind of memory and feeling.
But the music doesn't work on all of the corpses and they'll quickly overrun her if someone doesn't help out sooo you know. Get on that please chopchop.
Ruka Minazuki | Fatal Frame 4 | tourist
She drifts. She drifts and she dreams and she lays on the sand not waking for what feels like eternity.
When she finally awakens, she just follows along with a sense of having missed something. It's a terribly familiar feeling, honestly, and she's not sure what to do with it, except to follow along with the villagers who help her.
She says nothing the entire time, quiet and watchful, almost unnervingly so. The first words she utters are a quiet, "thank you," when she accepts food, though she only sits with it in her lap. She feels hungry, but only vaguely. It's not enough to make her actually feel like eating.
The explanations wash over her and, while she's sure she's not dreaming, she's not sure how much of 'reality' this is either. It's disorienting.
"A traveling musician and a singer... I suppose it's not terrible. It's not far off." She mutters aloud as she looks at the passport before she puts it away, staring straight ahead. "This could all be worse."
It's said matter-of-factly, like perhaps if she says it out loud it will make it more true.
B. They Sleep
Nothing good comes from empty caskets like that. Ruka lingers with a frown, watching the burial boats with a growing sense of unease. That can't be all there is to it, is there? She supposes she can't say anything against their burial beliefs though. Better than whatever her island home had going on.
But as she lingers, she feels that odd, uneasy feeling tugging at her very soul, drawing her closer to the water's edge. She doesn't look in, very deliberately avoiding it so as not to see her warped face in her reflection. Moonlight Syndrome meant failing to recognize oneself in a reflection, and she didn't want to aggravate it.
That doesn't mean she's safe though.
She sways, her eyelids feeling heavy and her vision tunneling to a pinpoint before she begins to collapse, likely headed right for a collision with the water unless someone grabs her.
C. Ill Met by Moonlight
She hates the moon.
The full moon brings a familiar frenzying feeling, a desperate need to be up high, high, high and close to it. It's not a strong urge--her Moonlight Syndrome hasn't advanced at all--but the pull is there. It makes her breath catch and a feeling of primal fear well up in her at the eclipse. It's wrong.
As if driven by instinct she goes to wherever a piano might be set up--an inn or tavern for the locals? Someone's house she breaks into? Who knows, there's a piano SOMEWHERE and Ruka has found it. She plays, calm and gentle at first, and then growing increasingly desperate as her mind fails to remember the entire thing. It loops and lingers, haunting, but beautiful.
It works on some corpses, but maybe not others. Some still try to get in where she is, while Ruka plays on and on until her fingers ache, until they crack and bleed and still she plays.
Those with memory issues might find themselves starting to remember bits and pieces of things they wouldn't normally when the music plays. Even those without memory problems might find themselves resonating with the music, conjuring up some kind of memory and feeling.
But the music doesn't work on all of the corpses and they'll quickly overrun her if someone doesn't help out sooo you know. Get on that please chopchop.
D. Wildcard
The 'Everything Else' option!