#silent hill 3 spoilers

[harrymasonsdadbod]

For any newcomers to the silent hill series, here’s a pro tip. When playing SH3 feel free to turn off the game immediately when Heather gets home! No need to worry about anything, that’s the end of the game! She got home safe and sound to her dad! Nothing bad happens after that! Forget about Claudia, Vincent, and Douglas! They aren’t important. She’s home. The game definitely wasn’t shorter than the other games. The credits roll right after that just trust me on it :)

[girlaux]

just finished silent hill 3 and i am pro-abortion as fuck

[raccoonrobot]

[laniardraws]

I love how pro-choice silent hill 3 is

[wounded-warsong]

YOU'VE BEEN HERE FOR TWO DECADES

SILENT HILL 2 (2001 & 2024)

[aquaswayfinder]

how to get better with tank controls i m playing silent hill 3 and can't outrun the red mist

[snugpunk]

Eddie has no drip, and that’s the real crime.

[lavellane]

writing post veilguard solas as theeeeee clingiest most reassurance-starved man in the world who literally needs to hold lavellans hand every second of the day for the next 6 years or he WILL fall untethered in the literal abyss of despair he willingly walked into in the end.

[horrorwomen]

John Fletcher’s discussion of female Gothic cinema opens with the claim: ‘The search for origins, especially when it takes the form of reconstructing a hidden or forbidden scene, is one of the most seductive of all narratives’. The search for an absent mother constituting one goal of female Gothic heroines, it is notable that Heather’s journey in Silent Hill 3 begins with an attempt to return to her father, then develops into an encounter with the maternal figure of Alessa.

As a female Gothic heroine, like the protagonists of Rebecca (1940), Gaslight (1940) and Dragonwyck (1946), Heather is a young girl haunted by another woman who is at the same time rival, doppelgänger, and mother. Reproducing the ‘uncanny and doubling relation between the youthful protagonist and the older woman.’

Kirkland, Ewan. (2012). Gothic Videogames, Survival Horror, and the Silent Hill Series. Gothic Studies. 14. 106-122. 10.7227/GS.14.2.8.

[demento-mori]

if i had a nickel for every time my two favourite characters from a game series were actually technically the same person, i'd have two nickels. which isnt a lot, but its weird that it happened twice.

[queenofbaws]

from the call me up at midnight prompt list:

"talk to me, what's going on?"

Waking up didn't happen quickly - not for him, not anymore. There was no sudden jolt startling him into the land of the living, no magical moment where his eyes snapped open and the day's events slotted cleanly into place. Instead, he found himself being pulled slowly, inexorably, up and up and up, as if from some great depth; the darkness grew less, a few rays of light shimmered above, his body remembered how to float bit by bit, and then...

James pulled in a long, aching breath. It was too bright to open his eyes, the violent red of his eyelids reminding him that he'd left the drapes open before he'd fallen asleep, so he took to slapping around the nightstand to find the phone, relying on muscle memory. Even so, it took him until the fourth (fifth?) ring before he found the receiver. Another still before he managed to lift it from its cradle and bring it to his ear.

"Hello?" he croaked, then winced, pressing hard against his sinuses with his other hand as he tried again. "Hello?"

The line was quiet for a moment. And then she spoke, her voice soft and cool as the other side of his fevered pillowcase. "James? Honey? Are you all right?"

He wished he could say that did it, that the sound of her voice was enough to flip some magic switch inside of him, but...well. Maybe it had been, once. Things had changed, though, life was different now, and while there would always be a part of him soothed and comforted by the shape of her words, the bourbon had beaten her to it tonight. Today. This morning? Hell, he wasn't even sure.

James rubbed his eyes, but the thought of opening them was still too much. He pinched the phone between his ear and shoulder, pressing the heels of his hands hard against his eyelids until his vision seemed to sparkle. "I'm fine," he said, and he'd give himself this much at least - he'd managed to sound halfway convincing while saying it. "How are you? It's early for you to be up, isn't it?" Maybe not as convincing as he'd hoped, on second thought. "Is everything all right?"

The line was quiet. Not perfectly so, but quiet enough for him to notice the absence of the usual sounds, the beeps of the monitors, the hiss of oxygen from her cannula, the low, distant chattering of the nurses and doctors as they went about their lives acting as though hers wasn't ending.

"...Mary?" he tried, his head far too heavy to even attempt sitting up. "Hey, talk to me. What's going on over there? Is everything - "

"Why?"

His stomach dropped. The shame, the guilt, it all came creeping back to him, slithering through the fog of his grogginess. It was the conversation he'd spent all of last night avoiding, the conversation he'd drowned himself in shitty whiskey to escape. They'd had it so many times, of late, replayed it in an endless, unwinnable loop, and there they were again, taking up their parts, same as ever: Her, the victim; him, the monster. He wondered how many times they could rewind this tape before the celluloid snapped from the heat.

"Mary, I - " he began, then realized he hadn't been able to come up with a good excuse when sober, much less hungover and half-asleep, feeling like something dredged up out of a lake. So he pivoted. Deflected. Bought himself a little more time, despite knowing full well it might be more than she had to give. "I'm coming to see you, all right? I am. Work's just been crazy, and my dad's been calling, and - "

"That's not what I meant." Something about the way she said it sent a chill through him, starting at the notch of his collarbone and moving down, down, down until it bisected him like a lover's caress.

Despite himself, he shivered. Why had he let himself drink so much last night?

"I don't...um..." He wracked his brain for what she'd meant, what she might've been referring to, but everything behind his eyes felt rusted over and sharp. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter against the light coming in from the drapes, the bright red splash of his eyelids, and after a moment, it came to him. "We've been over this. The doctor said you can't travel. I'm sorry - you know I am - but the drive to Silent Hill is bad enough on its own. To get to the hotel, there's a boat ride on top of that, and you're in no condition to - "

"No, James," Mary interrupted him, and suddenly her voice went flat. Robotic. It seemed to blend into the ambient static of the line, an electrical hum only mimicking his wife. It distorted, shattered, tore like old bedclothes being fed into an industrial grinder, "Why did you kill - "

He sat up with a gasp, a sudden jolt startling him back into the land of the living. His eyes snapped open. The events of the day slotted neatly back into place.

In the darkness of what had once been their bedroom, on the stripped and soiled mattress that had once been their bed, James sat back against the headboard and remembered why he'd started drinking that night. He looked to the window (the lacy drapes shut tight the way Mary had always liked), looked to the bedside table (her glass of water still beaded with condensation beside her pill caddy), and, after a brief moment of contemplation, yanked the phone cord out of the wall.

Just in case.

[deadscell]

there’s nothing more heartbreaking than when heather goes through literal hell to get home to her dad. all the hope and love in her heart, all the things she wanted to say and what she didn’t. it’s cruel of the game to give her that objective and then suddenly steal it away. i like the game as much as two, especially since the protagonist is much more relatable and likeable than the counterpart of james. when i play silent hill one it makes my insides go all mushy. he wants his daughter back and he’ll go through anything to do so. she wants her dad back and she’ll go through anything to do so. they are one in the same. when you play silent hill three it makes your emotions go all haywire. she’s just a normal girl who wants to live a happy life with her dad, and she defends him without any hesitation. i love heather so much.

[thanatos-drive]

LMAO

[crimescrimson]

Red's Favourite Gaming Pairings Of All Time Masterlist [Volume Two]: JessMike (Jessica x Mike from Until Dawn | HankCon (Hank x Connor from Detroit: Become Human) | ErronJin (Erron x Jin from Mortal Kombat X) | TessJoel (Tess x Joel from The Last Of Us) | AkiAnn (Akira x Ann from Persona 5) | HarryCybil (Harry x Cybil from Silent Hill) | MakoKari (Makoto x Yukari from Persona 3)| Wrencus (Wrench x Markus from Watch_Dogs 2) | PriceField (Chloe x Max from Life is Strange) | RadioHeads (Ryan x Dylan from The Quarry)

[evanpeterswifeyyy]

POV: me avoiding any spoilers of the new Silent Hill 2 Remake because I want to play it on my birthday unaware:

[gaysparkler]

Ūru - Character Overview

Half-orc · Cleric of Ilmater · The Dark Urge · she/her

I've been teasing Ūru in tags so here is her grand online debut (let's ignore that I'm at 80+ hours with her in-game).

I love choosing names based on whichever fantasy language corresponds to my OCs, so I was very happy when I found a very limited orcish word list from Tolkien. "Ūru" means "sun" (makes sense considering, well, the Uruk-Hai LOL) and I felt it was very fitting for my most tragic girl of all time.

Ūru breaks out of her pod on the Nautiloid with no memories, an incomprehensible thirst for blood, and a sigil of Ilmater in her hands. Remembering her name feels like she tore another hole in her broken mind.

Though she has no memories, she can recall what a Cleric of Ilmater is supposed to do: heal wounds and limit suffering. This is why she spends most of Act 1 very distressed due to this internal conflict; her mind, her body craves and demands blood, but her conscience tells her that her duty is to heal.

That conflict has made her terrified of her urges and of the tadpole in her brain - there are too many missing variables, too many things that she can't understand, though despite all of it, she strives to do good.

Ūru found herself drawn to Shadowheart, not in small part because she also had amnesia and was a fellow cleric. Their gods were in opposition, she knew that, but to have someone who misses a part of herself but remaining devoted, was comforting to her. (Also the dynamic between someone trained to receive pain and someone whose very blood demands to inflict pain is top tier.)

Her goal early in game is to do her very best to ignore her urges and to get rid of the tadpole. Though she is a life cleric and her knowledge of anatomy is unparalleled, she let Volo attempt to remove the tadpole - knowing full well she would lose her eye in the process.

One of her solutions to quell the urges is to always put herself in harm's way, in the name of protecting her companions and others in need. The pain helps her distract herself from what her body demands, which she continually refuses. And it only gets worse for her from here ;)