Siffleur (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
teethoftherisk) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2023-03-07 01:05 pm
teethoftherisk) wrote in come_sailaway2023-03-07 01:05 pm
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
Motion catches Jack’s attention, and he blinks and - huh, it takes a second, but he recognizes the woman, and she does look more put together here. Not - not just the clothes thing, but just her whole... demeanour?
Anyway, Jack walks briskly over to her and - hey, this is important - “Hi, uh. We’ve met before, right?”
It’s a memory, but Jack would hate to come off as freaky and weird to a memory-person if he was wrong about this.
no subject
The woman turns, walking backwards with ease, clearly not worried about bumping into anyone or anything. And indeed, the way they walk has fewer and fewer people on its already quiet streets. "You don’t mind small-town Chinese do you? Inauthentic of course, but so very delicious, so amazingly delicious."
no subject
He’s pretty sure this lady isn’t a passenger on the ship, but this doesn’t seem to be like how a memory would act, right? So this is some third, weirder thing? How does she know about him again?
He could figure it out as they went, yeah, plus she sounded willing to tell him, and hey - the worst that could happen was he’d die and lose an evening so why not live a little?
“Sounds good to me.” Jack says with a shrug and a little smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever had authentic Chinese either, so no worries there.”
no subject
The restaurant is exactly what one would expect from a 90’s small town Chinese restaurant. Well. Nearly. Because the person standing behind the front counter to greet them is deeply, terribly wrong. It’s a person, a human being, but every part of it is just... not right. It’s as if the person is a reflection, distorted and warped, everything in the wrong proportion and texture.
"Shit." The woman mutters to herself. She crosses her arms and huffs. "Sorry. It’s- it’s fine. He’s not actually dangerous. Should have borrowed from Siffleur’s memories but- but the food’s in mine-"
The man greets them and his voice sounds like steel being hammered. She grits her teeth, then says softly. "We'd like a table for two. And one of everything on your menu."
Another harsh metallic sound, and then the awful mockery of a person picks up a pair of menus and motions for them to follow them.
no subject
Until they enter the restaurant. Jack stops cold, and that feeling pricks more, but--
But the context clues he puts together, things she says now and where he saw her before, the name she mentions now, and this...
Well, first of all, the current situation: he flinches a little at the sound the person’s voice makes, but keeps a polite smile stuck to his face as they’re led to a table. As they walk, he says as a quiet aside to the woman, since she seems, er, tense:
“Honestly, still not as bad as some of the folks in my history.”
no subject
They’re seated at a table. It’s classic small-town here too - plastic tablecloth with yellowed swirls, a little metal container with various sauces, and a drink menu on the table that clearly hasn’t been used for a good twenty years. The grating metal voice comes again, and as the woman sits down, she lets out a soft noise of discomfort, then does her best to answer. "Um. Beers? And waters. Beers and waters."
That seems to be the right answer, because the misshapen mockery of a human leaves, and she sighs with relief, leaning against the wall. The dining room is empty, and she clearly knows that no one else will be coming. "At least he’s just serving us."
no subject
After what he hopes is a polite enough pause after what she said, Jack makes an attempt at a tactful question:
“Is this... what things look like for you?”
no subject
no subject
“Don’t think so,” he says, “But I think I get the idea.”
It brings a bigger question to his mind, however: “... Does Siffleur look like that to you?”
She knows Siffleur, could use his memories, and when he first saw her, she was alone with a baby in a memory. He didn’t know how this memory stuff worked, if this was something normal for that or what, but he had a hunch this was Siffleur’s mother.
no subject
She taps the middle of her forehead. "I got split right down the middle of here by looking into something we weren’t meant to look into. I'm still scrambled, but it’s a lot better these days. Just ticks and fidgets mostly-" And she goes quiet as the jumbled person brings out the dishes.
They’ve gone with the quick ones to start and so the table quickly fills with two bowls of soup, one with wonton soup and one with hot and sour soup, three small servings of chicken fried rice, beef fried rice and shrimp fried rice, a mushroom chow mein, a shanghai noogle, and a still steaming plate full with a vegetable foo yong. With that grating voice, he offers them plates and cutlery.
Siffleur’s mom manages to give him a smile and nod, though her eyes are a little too pinched. As soon as he’s gone though, she grabs a spoon and motions to the hot and sour soup. "Do you mind if I take that one? You can take first pick of anything else."
no subject
It's as he's wondering if it'd be tasteless to say he got off easy with hallucinating other people's lives that the food thankfully arrives.
He smiles and nudges the soup Siffleur's mother's way.
"Not at all." he says, and smiles a little. "Take whatever you want, I can clean up everything else."
And if she knows about him from Siffleur, she knows he's not exaggerating.
no subject
"You’re a healthy eater alright. I’ve seen you and Siffleur nearly cleaning the buffet out. We could have used that when he was a teenager. He ate constantly, endlessly. I worried how he was able to feed himself when I couldn’t be around him, but he did well. He’s a good boy, a t-truly, truly good boy..." She twists her fork in her noodles a few times, and gives Jack a smile. “And you’re a good one too. Smart, sensible, able to look out for yourself. And you’re not absolutely insane like his usual ex's, so that’s really heartwarming."
no subject
That, and he has a huge mouthful of chicken and rice still in his mouth when she's done talking, one that he already was almost choking on the second she called him smart and sensible.
"hrnng- ah - Ha, I'm not sure 'sane' is entirely right, but," he grins, somewhere at the intersection of modest and nervous, "I'm - glad you approve?"
(Oh fuck, he is meeting his [???]'s parent. That's a relationship milestone, right? Is this moving too fast? Or?? At all??? Does this mean anything????)
no subject
There’s a moment of quiet as she gets herself together, and then she lets go of her arm. "Mmmm. Sane is... something I have trouble with. B-but, it’s- you’re both- you like each other, and you’re- you’re like each other. The same in the important ways. Nobody’s being hurt-" Another near giggle as she realizes her misspeak, but it’s just a few quick titters and it drops off naturally this time to her relief. "-in ways they don’t want to be. That’s good for both of you. That’s- that’s the most important thing."
She picks up her soup bowl and just drinks from it, not sure she can handle the spoon right now. When she sets it down, she seems a little better again.
"I don’t want to make you feel like this is a... like you need my approval. All I want is his happiness, and he has it now. Everything else is just gravy." She waggles a few fingers vaguely in his direction. "I just like that you’re nice when you two aren’t doing the things you do to each other."