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come_sailaway2023-01-22 12:51 am
crushed_pearls) wrote in come_sailaway2023-01-22 12:51 am
[Open + Closed] If I Had A Nickel For Every Time My Soul Got Transformed...
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?
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?
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It does dim slightly with what comes next. "Are you ... burning it right away? Do you want me to stay?"
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She tucks the book close to her chest, and holds out her free hand to Erin. "Is there anything else here you want to show me?"
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A pause.
"... I don't think I've met Daisy yet. Do you think I should?"
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"...I promise I'm going somewhere with this; what do the farmers of Whitestone think of wolves?"
Is Erin betting that human self-interest will lead to demonizing the same animals across worlds? Yes. If not she'll try to explain another way.
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"She craves ... other people's fear? Of her, or of anything?"
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A slow breath, and the blankness begins to recede, leaving a look that's troubled but not hostile.
"I ... don't know."
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"I'm glad you want to help her. I think if she's trying to change, then yes, she needs friends. I just ... don't know if I can be one of them, not without making things worse."
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"This is nice," she murmurs. "Hug with wings."
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Nestled in feathers, she doesn't sound unhappy about that.
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