Siffleur (
teethoftherisk) wrote in
come_sailaway2023-03-07 01:05 pm
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then I found a place, it's dark and it's rotted [memeshare - open]
Who: Siffleur and you
What: Memory sharing & an opt-in
When: throughout March
Where: various
Warnings: Body horror, medical gore, cannibalism, death, suicide, suicidal idealization, child neglect, possible discussions of past sexual assault in first prompt, unreality
1) The River
On the banks of a newly defrosted river, a young women who looks to be in her mid-twenties kneels by the ice cold waters. The snow has melted, but there's a chill in the air that can't be shaken. Her hair is dirty and matted, and she's wearing a stained dress that's too big for her. Beside her is a freshly birthed baby, half-transformed between human and cougar, screaming in pain.
The woman isn't handling it well. Siffleur is about 10 minutes old and he's also not handling it well either.
2) The Forest
In an old growth forest in the height of summer, a small cougar kitten has left the den where his mother sleeps to play in the grass and chase the large dragonflies that dart around. Siffleur is very young and very curious, and though he usually avoids other people, today he's feeling brave enough to investigate anything new and novel. He's climbing a old fallen log in pursuit of a particularly shiny dragonfly that's resting on the end.
But he loses his grip when he sees someone new in the clearing, falling back and going head over heels, rolling back a few times before landing paws up.
3) The City
In a rundown city just across the Canadian border, a teen boy sits outside a convenience store. His clothing is dirty and stained, and he hasn't washed in at least two weeks. His stomach growls and he watches carefully as people slowly trickle in and out of the store. Siffleur's shaggy hair hangs in his eyes and he doesn't ask for help - he just watches each person as they exit their car.
There's someone here who wasn't there before. His yellow eyes snap to them, quickly looking them up and down.
4) The Small Town
In a place with a population of less than a 1000 people, less than six half-paved streets and one bar, Siffleur sits at the bar with a beer. His cellphone buzzes now and then but he's left it laying face down, not bothering to check it. There's plenty of empty stools around him - less of an invitation and more of a warning.
On the TVs, Ottawa is playing Anaheim, but from the dour mood of those folks watching the screens, it's clear that a Canadian team isn't going to win this Stanley Cup. Occasionally, Siffleur glances back, looking for someone who isn't here yet.
5) Killing Myself In Front Of You To Change The Trajectory Of Your Life Forever (Opt-In, TW: Suicide)
This isn't Siffleur's memory - it's one of yours.
Perhaps it's something personal, something traumatic and private, the kind of thing you would hate to have seen by anyone. Perhaps it's of better times, good days, drinks, laughter, that kind of thing. Maybe it's just another quiet mundane day.
It doesn't matter. The moment he realizes he's in your memory, Siffleur acts instantly and decisively, and kills himself. There's no hesitation. If there's danger he can use to do it, he does - throwing himself against the obvious monsters, picking a fight with something that's ready to rip him to shreds. Or, if not that, then he'll do the job himself with a kitchen knife if available, or anything sharp.
And in the most dire of circumstances where there's nothing for him to use at all? Well... here's your front row seat to a memory of a complete stranger looking around, grabbing his head between his hands and snapping his own neck.
He'll be back on the ship the next day, carefully avoiding the cracks as he attempts to shuffle away from his cabin and over to the buffet to eat breakfast. Feel free to ambush him for an answer then.
What: Memory sharing & an opt-in
When: throughout March
Where: various
Warnings: Body horror, medical gore, cannibalism, death, suicide, suicidal idealization, child neglect, possible discussions of past sexual assault in first prompt, unreality
1) The River
On the banks of a newly defrosted river, a young women who looks to be in her mid-twenties kneels by the ice cold waters. The snow has melted, but there's a chill in the air that can't be shaken. Her hair is dirty and matted, and she's wearing a stained dress that's too big for her. Beside her is a freshly birthed baby, half-transformed between human and cougar, screaming in pain.
The woman isn't handling it well. Siffleur is about 10 minutes old and he's also not handling it well either.
2) The Forest
In an old growth forest in the height of summer, a small cougar kitten has left the den where his mother sleeps to play in the grass and chase the large dragonflies that dart around. Siffleur is very young and very curious, and though he usually avoids other people, today he's feeling brave enough to investigate anything new and novel. He's climbing a old fallen log in pursuit of a particularly shiny dragonfly that's resting on the end.
But he loses his grip when he sees someone new in the clearing, falling back and going head over heels, rolling back a few times before landing paws up.
3) The City
In a rundown city just across the Canadian border, a teen boy sits outside a convenience store. His clothing is dirty and stained, and he hasn't washed in at least two weeks. His stomach growls and he watches carefully as people slowly trickle in and out of the store. Siffleur's shaggy hair hangs in his eyes and he doesn't ask for help - he just watches each person as they exit their car.
There's someone here who wasn't there before. His yellow eyes snap to them, quickly looking them up and down.
4) The Small Town
In a place with a population of less than a 1000 people, less than six half-paved streets and one bar, Siffleur sits at the bar with a beer. His cellphone buzzes now and then but he's left it laying face down, not bothering to check it. There's plenty of empty stools around him - less of an invitation and more of a warning.
On the TVs, Ottawa is playing Anaheim, but from the dour mood of those folks watching the screens, it's clear that a Canadian team isn't going to win this Stanley Cup. Occasionally, Siffleur glances back, looking for someone who isn't here yet.
5) Killing Myself In Front Of You To Change The Trajectory Of Your Life Forever (Opt-In, TW: Suicide)
This isn't Siffleur's memory - it's one of yours.
Perhaps it's something personal, something traumatic and private, the kind of thing you would hate to have seen by anyone. Perhaps it's of better times, good days, drinks, laughter, that kind of thing. Maybe it's just another quiet mundane day.
It doesn't matter. The moment he realizes he's in your memory, Siffleur acts instantly and decisively, and kills himself. There's no hesitation. If there's danger he can use to do it, he does - throwing himself against the obvious monsters, picking a fight with something that's ready to rip him to shreds. Or, if not that, then he'll do the job himself with a kitchen knife if available, or anything sharp.
And in the most dire of circumstances where there's nothing for him to use at all? Well... here's your front row seat to a memory of a complete stranger looking around, grabbing his head between his hands and snapping his own neck.
He'll be back on the ship the next day, carefully avoiding the cracks as he attempts to shuffle away from his cabin and over to the buffet to eat breakfast. Feel free to ambush him for an answer then.
no subject
Siffleur lies down on the ground, tucking his paws under him and settling in, giving Nepeta every indication that he will be here waiting patiently for her to come back. "Take your time. I am in no rush. You should get your arm treated, in case there is some other attack."
no subject
And she hesitates just one more moment.
"... Can I scritch you?"
no subject
"Yes." He tips his head up for her. "You may scritch me as much as you'd like."
And of course, he purrs long and loud for her when she does.
no subject
And, thus bolstered, turns to follow the corridor back down through the depths of the meteor station, toward her remaining friends.
With the last flicker of her green longcoat in the gloom, the memory begins to dissolve.
no subject
This time, he's the one who goes looking for Nepeta.
no subject
no subject
Instead, he comes to a skidding halt in front of her, and without waiting for permission, he's quick to push in close and rub his head into her torso.
no subject
"That was you. You weren't there but you were and I remembpurr you --"
no subject
no subject
(For just a moment, the yellow of her eyes goes paler, the pupils thinning to nonexistence, to blank whiteness:
Only for a moment; blink and nothing has changed.)
no subject
He purrs, almost defiantly, marking his scent all over her green coat as if by stating that she's his to protect, he can keep her safe. "Stay here with me. I have places we can hide and sleep in peace. No one will find us."
no subject
And she bumps his shoulder with her head, rubbing her chin and cheek along his fur. Trolls don't have scent glands there, but the gesture's the same.
no subject
And now he can show her all the little secret nests he's made above the floor of the store, lined with Hawaiian shirts and beach towels. There's no better place to hide from the world for a while than inside of there where it's dark and warm and safe.