Gil Ryanson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
breakaleginhalf) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2023-03-07 08:03 pm
breakaleginhalf) wrote in come_sailaway2023-03-07 08:03 pm
Fable the First: Fuck this shit I'm out
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.
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.
no subject
She's very careful in how she says that, delicately stepping around the word kidnap. There will be a time to talk to him and express the idea of branching selves, but she's not about to risk the goodwill she's already gotten so quickly. Helena's just cautious like that.
At least the ghost coffee is good.
no subject
He can't read minds. It's just the quickest, snidest comment.
"How long have you been here for? Seems like everyone's stories are pretty fucking different."
no subject
"One hundred and twenty nine days including today. I found myself aboard on November first, so it's been simple to keep track." That she has two other numbers she keeps note of is her own business.
"Most people have been here longer. I know a few who have passed a year already. Which is not the most reassuring news to hear, and I apologize for that."
no subject
He's pretty sure he's been gently dissociating for the last few days, but he'll survive.
"I think I could do a year here. It's not been too bad yet, but-" And the T is a sharp click of his tongue "- I get the impression that that opinion's gonna change pretty quickly."
no subject
As optimistic as she tries to be, that can't entirely be avoided.
"All I can hope is that you get as much time for peace as can be gotten. The longer it can be bearable, the better."