[Open + Closed] If I Had A Nickel For Every Time My Soul Got Transformed...

[crushed_pearls]

Who: Erin Peters and YOU, but also Phil and Cassandra de Rolo
When: January 21st Onward
Where: Locations
Summary: Fallout of some regains, trying to bounce back still, So Many Animal People On This Ship
Warnings: Lost bullshit, Erin's eyes in a jar, violent transformation. For reference all prompts after 1 feature the post-transformation Erin.


1. Well One Of Us Is Going To Have To Change (Closed To Phil; Sundries)

Avoiding asking Friday why she gets so much fucking mail is getting increasingly difficult for Erin. The curled-up scrap of the Contract with Stone is unexpected but very welcome; at last, she can haul her own sunfish, or at least not spend power like water to do so. The jar with her FUCKING EYES IN IT is disgusting but Erin had given them to Colors for Hedgespinning; maybe she could do the same? Or, preferably, Ossie or Giles or Okie might do the same, as Erin doesn't want these curst fucking things anywhere near her...

The grooming kit arrests her attention, though. Erin knows these tools. She used them often, once Gabby had warmed up to her. They're even etched with a little 'GG' encircled by feathers and thorns. God, it's been so long; Gabby was decades ago, and yet, and yet -

Searing pain, down Erin's shoulders. She lurches, dropping the grooming kit back into its package, crying out in shock. That sound rapidly becomes a scream of absolute fucking agony as raven's wings tear their way out of the meat of her shoulders and shred the back of her dress and coat into tatters. Feathers lace their way into Erin's tempestuous hair, joining the storm, and little scales - like a bird's - grow into place around her wrists and ankles.

"Mother fucker," Erin half-yells, half-sobs. And then, in a louder voice, a call for help: "PHIL!"

There's blood everywhere now. It's gonna be a whole fucking event, isn't it?

2. The Retired Villain's Club (Closed to Cassandra; Cabin 134 & the Hoard)

Love can you come to my cabin at your convenience? I have something I want to show you and talk about. Difficult conversation probably. There is no rush whatsoever.

3. Acceptable Levels of Hypocrisy (Around)

Sometimes you need to resort to weird measures to get around your problems. The issue: Erin has not been eating properly and she knows it. The solution: Erin is now eating in the weirdest goddamn places. Catch her with cups (not bowls) of various foods while perched on the statue in The Promenade, nibbling her way through an improbable amount of carbs while whittling in the Lounge, carefully eating garlic bread with a fork in The Library, or even indulging her endless need for sugar in the shallow reaches of The Infinite Tommy Bahama. Can't be on people for self-care if she's not caring for herself, damnit.

4. A Castle Made Of Clouds (Tauva)

Every few days you might catch Erin at Tauva with her doll's castle, now fully-manned by wooden figurines with operational siege weapons (powered by rubber bands), poking and prodding at it with her stylus and sometimes jotting down notes in braille. If she has reason to suspect you're into building, y'know, buildings, or have experience with interior design, you might have received a text requesting a consultation on a project; if not, well, she's got a doll castle in the smoking lounge, fuck's up with that?

Comments

2!

[not_the_last]

The reply text is quick, just I'll be there shortly, and within about ten minutes Cassandra is tapping at the door to Erin's cabin.

Re: 2!

[crushed_pearls]

Through the cabin door: "I need you to not freak out, okay? There's gonna be a big obvious thing when I open the door and it's not why I invited you here but just. Don't. Freak out about it. Okay love?"

Re: 2!

[not_the_last]

A pause.

Through the door: "I'll do my best. Is it something dangerous?"

[crushed_pearls]

"Uh. Only in the sense that I need to once again master turning my body and walking through doors."

There's a heavy sigh...

And then Erin opens the door, revealing her newly winged form. With her current lack of access to a tailor she's resorted to having this conversation in a tank top with most of the entire back cut away.

Her wings flutter nervously.

"This uh. Isn't. Shapeshifting."

[not_the_last]

Cassandra stands very still, taking in the wings, the delicate scales on the wrists, the look on Erin's face.

She is, as promised, doing her best to not freak out.

Two questions in her mind are fighting for precedence, and until she settles which one she's going to ask first, she's going to have to settle for a faint "... I see."

[crushed_pearls]

"...It came in Sundries. Not unknown for my people, my soul...changed again. Similar to. When I changed it myself, just an addition instead of a replacement."

Shaky breath. "Not sure what to make of it."

[not_the_last]

It doesn't sound like this was something voluntary, which neatly eliminates one of the two questions.

"An addition. Is this effect ..." She hesitates on reversible for a moment, and decides instead on "... permanent?"

[crushed_pearls]

"Without access to the Deep Hedge or someone who can flay my soul? Probably." The wings droop. "...Bad look on me?"

She's trying to joke. She's almost succeeding.

[not_the_last]

"What? No," and while the momentary bewilderment is real, she leans on putting it into her voice, to emphasize it. "Erin, no, I wasn't thinking any such thing, I'm worried about how it feels. To you."

[crushed_pearls]

The relief is visible and immediate. Erin steps aside to let Cass into the room, remembering her manners.

"It's...on a physical level I'm in fucking agony, love. Which reminds me..."

Tylenol bottle out of her pocket. Erin shakes two into her mouth and swallows them dry.

"But as far as violent rebirths go this has been my least violent. As for being a fucking raven...good question. They're complicated stories. Teachers and scavengers, spies and ill omens and gods of war. So. Yeah."

[not_the_last]

Luckily, Cassandra has had painkiller pills explained to her recently.

The word raven makes her pause, and look back at Erin's wings. Oh yes.

"In my world, they're associated with the goddess of death and fate. The Matron of Ravens, she's called."

[crushed_pearls]

"Mmm. Similar, on mine. The eyes of Odin Allfather, who is glad of war and god of chieftains. But...I dunno, love. It's a lot."

Deep breath. "So. The thing I called you here for."

[not_the_last]

"... Yes. Which you said isn't this."

Refocusing might be a little difficult, but by all the gods Cassandra's going to do her best.

[crushed_pearls]

"...My old home arrived in the mail. The Hoard from which I ranged out to work for whomever paid me. I've disposed of the wealth within it already; the gold, the weapons. But I thought...would you like to see it before I burn it down?"

[not_the_last]

"Your --"

There's a surge of powerful, tangled emotion, rigidly held in check; none of it shows on Cassandra's face, except by a widening of her eyes and a disappearance of any other expression.

"I don't understand," is what she finally says, just a little more flatly than she would like.

[crushed_pearls]

"It'll be faster to just open the door. One moment."

Erin goes to her closet and starts singing Wellerman (the narration would link it if this wasn't a phone tag); she knocks once, twice, three times -

When she opens the closet door at the end of the song there is no closet there. A stone-paved path through a wood of wicked thorns is there instead, ending in a salvaged galleon tipped over on its side.

[not_the_last]

Cassandra takes a cautious step toward the door, and another, and stops.

"This ... was your home. Before?"

(No need to say before what.)

[crushed_pearls]

Erin nods, miserably. "The Hoard, where Liz hung up her hat. Me and my crew and all our blood money. Before I came here I was going to donate the gold to New Avalon and then burn it down. Now I've donated it to Johnny's husband and I'm still going to burn it down, but...I think...I want to build something new, after. And I wanted your suggestions. You and Daisy are the retired villains in my life, it... wouldn't feel right bringing Crabb or Ylva here."

[not_the_last]

Retired villains. She keeps her gaze on the wrecked galleon, and tries hard not to let that sting.

"I don't see why not," she says instead, maybe a little too lightly. "Once it's burned down, at least."

[crushed_pearls]

"Yeah. You don't have to walk in, but...I'm looking for closure, and I thought I could show off the amenities. I want my new home to welcome the people I love, and you're quite high on the list."

Erin stays in the doorway to hold the portal open, and gazes down the path. "I'm thinking I might try and draw down the clouds and make it from them."

[not_the_last]

The sting is smoothed away by what she knows is true even before Erin says it: the people I love.

"Anything you want to show me," she says, softening her voice a little, "I want to see it. And I don't mind walking in if you go with me."

She moves closer, and holds out a hand.

[crushed_pearls]

Erin takes Cass's hand and squeezes it gently. "For the record I can see in here; this stuff is all of the Wyrd. The traps are gone, so..."

She leads Cass up the path. The interior of the ship is still quite ship like but its decks are all where floors should go, as if it were built on its side. The interior smells of tobacco, and incongruously the furniture seems to all be from IKEA, saving the hammocks strung up here and there.

[not_the_last]

Cassandra's gaze falls on one of the hammocks, and she glances at Erin before leaning over to take a closer look.

"No pearls?" she asks, innocently.

[crushed_pearls]

That is startles Erin for a moment before she visibly remembers and laughs. "We didn't have guests here, no. Not even involuntary ones. Straight from the attack to the client, every time, but...oh hey."

It's a living room, mostly. When they get near it a gramophone turns itself on and starts playing Spooky Scary Skeletons, which puts a bitter smile on Erin's face.

"Galley is that way, cooks the food itself. Poorly, but it does. Armory is empty, but..."

Erin gestures at a stack of dog-eared fantasy books on the table. Most still have price labels on.

[not_the_last]

The gramophone gets a mildly startled look, and the song a mildly skeptical one.

"What became of the contents of the armory?" she asks, and follows Erin's gesture to look at the books.