Fable the First: Fuck this shit I'm out

[breakaleginhalf]

WHO: New beastie boy Gil!
WHAT: Memory share event!
WHEN: throughout March
WHERE; Everywhere while he gets his settle on, also memories in Arcadia
WARNINGS: Memories may include: Body horror (potential for mutilation, dismemberment, disembowelment, decapitation); cannibalism; cruel/unusual torture leading to death; forcible sedation; mind control/manipulation/commands to murder; Faeries but like, old school Gaelic horror stories. Please let me know if there's anything you'd like to hard opt out of!


I. Where's the beef (OTA, everywhere)

Alright, well. That was a stupid-ass safety drill. And Gil can't say he's fond of Friday either, with the whole No Face thing, but at least he's free and can do what the fuck he wants.

So at least step one is easy: work out what the fuck this place is. Cruise ship? Easy. Specifics? What the fuck. Also he's never been on a cruise ship before so it's very... new.

It's pretty easy to find him: he's the new guy, what's there to say. He's short, he's jacked to the shithouse, he's got a black buzz cut, he has thick scars covering every inch of his visible body in his singlet and cargo shorts and bare feet (some thick and ropy, wrapping around limbs and his neck like the pieces got melted back together, some are small, narrow and deep, and yet others are just shallow and superficial, and everything in-between), he has bare feet as he wanders the decks.

(For those with special eyes, though, he looks a bit different: the same height but a monstrous beast, his knuckles nearly dragging on the floor, arms almost half as broad again; thick, dark fur where the scars glint through like streaks of silver and flesh, the fur short but deliberately clipped down to the same length around his neck and chest, where there was clearly a mane at some point; his face is more like that of a bear or hyena, with jutting fangs and huge, bat-like ears; and his bare feet are now cloven hooves, oil-slick black and almost serrated at their tips.)


II. Thks fr th Mmrs (CW: ALL OF THE WARNINGS ABOVE)

If you're unlucky enough to fall into one of Gil's memory slips, it immediately and intensely feels...

Wrong.

There's a brilliant force of emotion in the air, like the buzz of an audience anticipating a stellar performance, made tangible in the air, like breathing through glitter, a sparkling hit of energy and life that feels like wading face-first into a dream. Or maybe the best high of your life, where everything is surreal, beautiful and overstimulating and intense.

And in every one there's a huge behemoth, black as sin, eyes like burning embers - sometimes it's like a wolf, all teeth and hunched shoulders, prowling - sometimes it's almost a bear, claws and thick fur and a roar that burns through to the soul with unbridled fear - sometimes it's no longer a human, disproportionate, foul and fury.

And in all of them, there's blood.

Comments

[breakaleginhalf]

Hey, Gil's not gonna judge the guy stockpiling, but there's an air of amusement to it.

"I mean, appreciate the notion that cracks in reality are something people might need to be warned about? Like they're not inherently fucking rancid vibes."

There's a plate of sandwiches nearby, some sort of deli meat with a distinct and unique red lip to the plates, but when Gil picks one up to sniff curiously, he instantly recoils and drops it.

[ablativeholopleather]

It's a habit, unfortunately. Especially when your abilities tend to be kinda reliant on food.

"Vibe ain't all bad but, yeah nah, you can accidentally fall into that shit and it's weird, man." So far he's gotten lucky that he hasn't seen too much awful in those that he's accidentally stepped in, but he has no doubt from just the things that he's heard from basic surface stuff that there's a lot that's happened to basically everyone here. The vibes are far from immaculate around here.

At least Gil seems cool, even if he comes with his own brand of weird. Like dropping a bit of meat as if it personally offended him. Instead of questioning it (everyone has their own tastes and stuff, right?) he reaches for a different plate, starting to layer rice and red onion, a little bit of greens and tomatoes, building himself quite a good gyro if he does say so himself. There are two actually, and he'd offer one to Gil if the guy didn't settle on something more to his liking.

"Careful, some'a this stuff's for the folks with real strict diets. Try the shawarma."

[breakaleginhalf]

He's a bit too rattled by the fact the deli is apparently serving human flesh disguised as a shitty deli sandwich to really be game for trying anything else just yet - at least not with company - but the gyro he gets offers settles his fur a bit.

"Yeah, uh. I got a sensitive nose. Smelled the difference." He'll take a bite of the gyro, at least (don't mind the fangs, Wayne) and that takes the rest of the edge off as his ears perk up under his Mask.

"Oh, dude. That's good."

[ablativeholopleather]

"Mm, makes sense," he replies around his bite. He is not above eating right here where he stands when he's hungry enough, and apparently neither is Gil. Just as well, it means they can hang out and munch while they chat.

He might not be able to see past the Mask, but he can tell when someone is feeling better. Body language is important to keep an eye on, especially here where people sometimes try to lie to you and pretend they didn't just telegraph their emotions.

"Right? My advice is just find the stuff you like and stick with it. There's this place that does huge platters of fries that are always super fresh. Between those and the breakfast burritos I'm basically set. What kinda stuff do you usually do? There's an ice cream place that let me have every flavor of dippin' dots before, that was awesome."

[breakaleginhalf]

"Yeah, I'll. Definitely keep a closer eye out in future." He definitely doesn't want to admit that's usually what he should eat, so the defection is easy and natural.

"I'm basically a bottomless pit, I'll eat anything that's less than like, five thousand Scovilles." He takes another bite and talks around it. "Fuck, man, I haven't thought about dipping dots since I was in fucking high school. That place still around?"

[ablativeholopleather]

"Y'know I have no actual idea? Maybe it's just like a novelty thing for this place but I'll take it. I never even heard of it before I got here."

He's quiet for a moment just to eat his gyro, grabbing for a bowl to load with salad and probably way too many toppings. It's about four people's servings worth, but he's happy with it.

"Oh, there's bars and stuff too if you're into that kinda thing." He personally isn't, but he's learning to get past his reservation about the whole alcohol thing.

[breakaleginhalf]

He fits the rest of his gyro in one bite, which - probably not physically feasible, but there it goes - and waggles one free hand in the 'kinda sorta' gesture.

"I mean, I'll drink a few socially? But it's not really my jam, personally, I'm just as happy not." He looks at the growing salad with a dry smirk. "Take it it's not really your thing?"

[ablativeholopleather]

He's not going to look at Gil funny one way or the other on his food consumption considering his own steady consumption of whatever catches his interest.

He shrugs up a shoulder at the question. "Yeah, kinda got a thing about like...not being able to think. Didn't know about drug type stuff til I got here but drinking has never been my thing to begin with."

He moves to find something to drink to go with his food and let Gil pick through the rest of what the tables have. He'd be happily working through his lunch here for a little while.

"They're the arcade too, that's pretty rad. Like being there or down in the theater."

[breakaleginhalf]

That gets a dry snort from Gil.

"Yeah," he says grimly. "Big fucking mood."

While-- shit, he never got the guy's name - Moonface or whatever gets his drink, Gil puts a quick plate together too, taking some tortillas and a hodgepodge of filler meats so he has a full plate to experiment with.

"Arcade sounds fun. I used to rock at DDR."

[ablativeholopleather]

Returning with a bottle of soda, Wayne holds it all a moment to wait for the guy to put together an assortment of something that looks pretty damn good to him before nodding to a nearby table so they wouldn't have to juggle it all for long.

"Haven't got the hang of DDR but the platformers all have my name on the scoreboards by now. Except the pinball machine, that's Vance's." He's already got a fork full of greens and bacon and croutons in his mouth as he talks about it. "Got a library but there's no reference material or anything like that. Not even like, music books or whatever. Pool's good, haven't been to the casino yet, still wanna figure out if winning means anything first."

Lots of words to say there's stuff to do here, if you know where to look.

[breakaleginhalf]

Gil wrinkles his muzzle in bafflement. "Wait, how do you have a library with no-- referencing material just means shit you referenced, it's literally anything related to the essay you're writing. Do you mean like, no non-fiction? Or just empty?"

He was a scientist in training man this is important.

[ablativeholopleather]

"Dude. Dude, there is no reference material. Like, at all. I wanted to find some books of tabs to help a guy learn guitar, nothing. I wanted something to be able to look up like, slang and stuff?" His hands go up in his frustration, fork sticking out of his mouth. "Sucks, man."

[breakaleginhalf]

"That's bullshit?" He certainly sounds outraged about it, but it's not aimed at Wayne, just the concept of the library in general. "Fuck that, what the hell. That doesn't make any fucking sense."

[ablativeholopleather]

That hands-up outrage only intensifies because yeah! Yeah this fucking sucks! He's basically an alien and asking people for clarification has helped exactly none at all!

"Apparently," and he puts a good amount of stink on the word, "the Captain doesn't like nonfiction. So it doesn't exist here in any form." If anyone else finds out about his Notes On Humans, in other words, those are going to disappear too somehow.

[breakaleginhalf]

"Fuck the captain and fuck that," he barks out readily. And then stuffs some food in his mouth because yeah, probably he shouldn't actually say that that loudly.

"Look, dude, if you ever need help with, like- I can't do much for instruments," he admits, "but slang? I can definitely help with that, no judgement or anything. English is bullshit."

[ablativeholopleather]

There's a subtle recoiling at the volume increase, but he's right there with the outrage. He's just quieter in general.

"Ok so don't like...let anyone important know, but I write stuff down so I remember to try and find out more on it. Like, notes on humans since it's like basically everyone here is human or kinda human adjacent. If nobody knows about it, it can't be taken away." Flawless logic, really.

[breakaleginhalf]

"Oh, yeah, no. No one's gonna hear about it from me."

And he doesn't even need to - doesn't even know if this guy can feel it - but there's a cool sizzle in the air, like a flash of petrichor or a snap frost, as Gil seals the little Pledge.

"That's smart, though. But I'll, uh." There's a moment of hesitation, but he plows on regardless. "Yeah, you'd probably better mark me as human adjacent. Ex-human, I guess? Still living among them, just. Secretly, I guess."

[ablativeholopleather]

"Ex-human. Got it." He doesn't dig deeper, because it doesn't seem like something to just ask about in the here and now.

He's happy to dig into his salad for a couple of bites, slouching back into his seat and watching Gil for a moment, then laughing a little around his mouthful.

"'m Wayne, by the way."

[breakaleginhalf]

Hey, ain't nothing wrong with being able to eat in companionable silence for a bit.

Until Wayne, apparently, talks, and Gil nearly snorts directly into his own salad and laughs, low and brief.

"I'm, uh-" hold on, he needs a breath, his voice is distinctly huskier a second. "Gil. Pleasure."

[ablativeholopleather]

They're both bad at this, clearly. They'll get better at it though.

"Cool, glad to meet you, Gil." He's not going to offer a handshake, it's not a habit, and the last time someone shook his hand they made a face about the texture of it, so...no. But he can raise his fork with a bite still on it in cheers.

[breakaleginhalf]

He grins back, casual and easy and way less mindful of his teeth than he usually is.

"So since we're on a first name basis now, do I actually get to see your notes?" He's even wiping his hands on his cargo shorts, his plate finished but for the crumbs. Dude can really put it away.

[ablativeholopleather]

Between Gil and Wayne, the ship staff is going to be working overtime to keep up with their raids of the buffet. Add in some of Wayne's other friends and they might as well just give up entirely.

"Mmh, sure." He trusts Gil to keep his word when it comes to the notebook being kept secret, at least because they're in agreement that the lack of documentation is a fucking travesty. He packs up the rest of his lunch to take with them, figuring he could stash it in the cabin's miniature fridge while they went over his notes.

"Oh, you got one of those phones right?" he asks as he once more takes the lead to the elevators that would lead to the decks where their cabins are. "You'll be able to get ahold of me if you wanna do since you have my name and stuff."

[breakaleginhalf]

"Yeah, sure." And he pulls out two, one the same model as Wayne's and the other distinctly more beaten up. "My own phone came with, but I don't have reception. Just the weird complimentary phone app."

He puts his own mobile away and opens the aforementioned app. "At least this one's contemporary - same time and world as me, roughly, so it's been easy for me to get the hang of. Still hate it, mind you, but that's more the principle of the matter."

[ablativeholopleather]

"Yeah, nothing gets reception here like, ever. Even the TVs. Can't do anything with the antennas to try and get anything either." Which also sucks considering how much more he's cut off from everything he knows than most here.

Wayne's phone comes up to exchange information, poking at the app himself. All he's used it for so far is to navigate a little bit.

"Keep it on you. Never know when it'll come in handy."

In the meantime he's still moving, further down from where Gil's cabin is on the same side of the ship. The door unlocks as he approaches, and he gestures for Gil to follow into the by and large identical room to every other cabin. The only real notable difference, besides the unmade bed, is an assortment of cat-shaped figurines of all stripes on whatever flat surfaces are available, the bulk of them arranged around a central pinch-pot clay yellow one that's a little bit bigger than the rest. He kneels at the TV stand and digs a composition notebook with floral print on the cover out of it, and holds it out.

[breakaleginhalf]

Honestly he appreciates knowing they're in the same general rooming area. He'll make a point to rap his knuckles on his own door as they pass it with a brief, "This one's me."

But he'll follow Wayne otherwise, only stopping when he's inside and sees how many cat statues there are, because his ears flick at the sight and he pauses in the middle of closing the door to stare.

"Uh." Right, the door, let's close that. "I did not ping you for a crazy cat lady, but good on you for knowing what you're about?"

He'll take the notepad and have a quick glance, then.