I come from downtown, born ready for you (Open)

[teethoftherisk]

WHO: Siffleur and you
WHAT: The return of Spirit Halloween
WHERE: Spirit Halloween, various
WHEN: all October
WARNINGS: probably cannibalism, body horror




Waking to skeletons and Halloween costumes where there were swimsuits and towels only hours ago has left Siffleur feeling odd to truly realize that a year has passed since he arrived. This isn't the first place he's lived for a year, but he so very rarely makes it to this point feeling so comfortable in his own skin.

The only downside to the change - besides his lairs rearranging and needing to find where a few of his gifts ended up - is that his usual method of getting dressed was just grabbing items off the racks and tossing them away at the end of the day. So for all of October, Siffleur can be found wearing various costume pieces.

Today, he's lounging in a pile of black robes in his cougar shape, a giant pumpkin-headed man looming over him as it keeps watch. Anytime someone gets too close, it loudly announces that its name is Lewis.

Siffleur can also occasionally be found around the ship - eating at the buffet in a stained and bloody Michael Myers jumpsuit, smoking in Ghostface robes at Bobby B's, and just staring out at the ocean in a slutty nurse outfit that really accentuats his total lack of curves.

Those who know him well will notice a slight change - his fur-like hair has become human hair, and he's clearly still getting used to it because he keep reaching up to touch it and occasionally making a face.



(Open to call - find Siffleur anywhere you'd like around the ship)

Comments

Sports deck

[theotherright]

Arthur understands the need for a memorial. And in the past, he's had fights with himself over how he feels about going there. To say goodbye feels like giving up on them. To look for closure for himself feels cruel, when he's been to the other side and knows how endless and dreadful it is.

To honour them makes sense, though. To remember them makes sense.

He's sitting by the memorial, on the floor, with his cane next to him and a book in his hands. Printed, rather than braille, with a blue cloth cover. He...

...he was kind of hoping to find a measure of peace out of this, but instead he just feels stressed and guilty, which doesn't come as a surprise. Arthur's never been very good at visiting graves.

A tenuous thread snaps, and he mutters distractedly: "Fuck it. This was a mistake." With one hand he picks up his cane, and with the other, resting on the book, he pushes himself upright.

[teethoftherisk]

Siffleur doesn't really get the memorial. He understands why the other people like it, why it's good to have a place to say goodbye, but it's not for him. Might be the animal in Siffleur - a corpse is to be eaten or avoided, not lingered over.

So he's not headed to the memorial. He's on his way to the buffet wearing a Halloween jumpsuit, glad to have something that at least fits him when he's out for a stroll. Most people just get a nod from Siffleur as he passes, but since Arthur can't see that, he makes a point to say. "Hello Arthur."

It's funny - he had a dream in September about him. A weird one.

[theotherright]

A turn of the head in surprise, though not in alarm. "Siffleur. Hello."

His tone is immediately more positive, albeit in a fake-it-till-you-make-it sort of way. Yes, please, he would give his left kidney for company just now. And Siffleur's been on his mind off and on, for... reasons. It's funny - he had a dream in September about him. A weird one.

"Gosh, it's been a while."

Though his Tommy's suit hides most of his frame, as well as the nasty scar on his throat, there's still damage visible, and Arthur's face is thinner than it was the last time they met in the waking world.

[teethoftherisk]

He ends up stopping to chat with Arthur, since food can wait a few minutes, and also Arthur looks terrible. And yet... familiar? Huh.

"I'm off to eat, if you want to join me." He makes the offer. "You could probably use a meal."

[theotherright]

"I've been getting that a lot lately."

Lightly. No trauma going on behind this new look, no sir.

"Thank you, I would be more than happy to join you." It occurs to him a moment later that this means he's going to have to eat like a normal fucking person, but he'll hoard that bridge when he gets to it. Or hey, maybe he won't have to worry. Maybe Siffleur will tear things apart like an animal. Actually-- actually, he'd rather not think about that.

"Have you- been all right? Your hunting ground seems to have changed again."

Cane-first, he approaches. The book is tucked under his arm. He can hardly believe last October was already a year ago.

[teethoftherisk]

He chuckles a little and falls into step beside Arthur, speaking to give him a reference point as they walk. "I am fine. It has been somewhat annoying to lose my usual clothing source, but there are new hiding spots and dens to built, and I do enjoy a change now and then. And it is a much better October than when I arrived - and a good break from September. I was getting tired of the flowers, even if they had some advantages."

[theotherright]

Still keeping it light: "Yes, well, touch wood it'll continue to be a better October than that."

A year since the possessions, and since his want to protect Steve was used to play him. A year since the roommate he adored died horribly (two nickels). A year since Arthur realised that he could lose someone by acting, or by never acting, and decided, this time, to act. A year since he re-met John, the person he should have applied that lesson to, body and all, and almost killed him on the floor of Spirit Halloween. Was Siffleur already around to see it when that happened? God, he hopes not, but he wouldn't put it past this place.

"Did you ever come across those flowers that made you fly like a helicopter?" he asks, on the topic of advantages. "Certainly didn't mind those."

[teethoftherisk]

"Not those ones, but they sound fun. I found the death flowers in the first couple of days, and made liberal use of them. Especially when I came to contact with whichever ones make you furious, and the ones that make you paranoid. Hmm. Saw a couple of people affected by the ones that make you glow. There was also one that gave you cat ears, very weird. Oh, and the ones that made you fall asleep and gave you weird dreams." He scratches his beard idly, even if it isn't the same anymore. "Actually, you were in one of those."

[theotherright]

Sorry you did what with the death flowers. Arthur's wondering how blatantly he should ask (Siffleur has been very respectful of his privacy, which makes it awkward that Arthur wants to be incredibly nosy) when that tidbit about the dream gets dropped, and he...

Well, he doesn't do a double-take. And he doesn't stammer. His eyes do flicker, but he keeps walking just as he was before, and his voice stays just as casual.

"You don't say? How weird was it?"

[teethoftherisk]

"Pretty weird. Lots of dead people, we were stuck in some kind of big hole, my mom was there. I turned into a monster. Or you did? Maybe both of us." Like most dreams, it had gotten a little blurry in places, a little hard to understand, especially in hindsight. He shrugs. "Really odd stuff."

[theotherright]

Ah, shit, thinks Arthur, as the appearance of a second nickel is confirmed beyond doubt.

He shouldn't say anything. That was not a good dream. There was too much shown in it, and too much said. Better to keep mum, as the saying goes, and let Siffleur think that it was just a weird imaginary--

"Your mother, eh?"

Or he could wiggle at it like a loose tooth, sure. If the dream wasn't making things up about Siffleur's mother then that is a wild fucking subject that he just can't not ask about.

[teethoftherisk]

"Yeah. It was good seeing her again, even if it was just a dream." He smiles fondly to himself. While it's good that he can write her, he misses when they could be in the same space. He'd love to hug her again. But something is still better than what he had before.

He looks at Arthur's gaunt form and after thinking about it for a moment, he decides that it will be amusing to share. "You were a cannibal in the dream too."

[theotherright]

"Yes, well, it's amazing what the subconscious will come up with," says Arthur, very quickly and breezily.

"Did, ah, something happen to her?"

It's tipping his hand a bit, because Siffleur could just mean he hasn't seen her in the year since he came here, if Arthur didn't remember... certain details.

[teethoftherisk]

That gets a quiet huffing laugh. "Yeah. Lot of things. But she's still alive. It's a long story but... part of her lives in my head, and I guess the rest is some kind of god now. It's complicated."

He doesn't expect to be believed, but also he's fairly sure people have heard far more insane things here than 'mom became a god'.

[theotherright]

Huh! Okay! That answers a question he had, and also introduces a host of new ones!

There's a moment's pause, as there often is when someone says something wildly out of left field, and then Arthur says: "I honestly don't know which part of that to ask about first."

Not because he doesn't believe the story, but because, like, look at it.

[teethoftherisk]

Siffleur's sigh is long-suffering, the sound of a man who has been forced to learn so much against his will. "It's... I'll try explain, but it's all..."

"Before I existed, mother was part of some kind of secret organization. They had some kind of artifact that was dangerous to be exposed to directly because it would make your whole body change shape until you were dead. She liked it there, until she didn't, and then she got stuck in front of it. Except my mother's smart, so she had figured out the trick, so when it started changing her shape, she managed to become a cougar. Then we lived out in the wild for a long time, and she was really sick because of everything. And once I was grown and could take care of myself, she started trying to figure out how to undo what happened to her. But she couldn't undo it, only go forward and do it again, but do it fully right this time. And I guess that's how she made herself into a god."

"But, part of becoming or whatever meant she had to give up a bunch of stuff, and she needed an anchor. So part of her went into my head, and part of her came with me when I got copied here." He idly scratches at his beard, frowning at the rough texture. "I only found out when the stupid memory cracks were happening. Then I got a book from Sundries that lets me write her."

There are so many obvious gaps here but this is the best full explanation he can give.

[theotherright]

"Jesus," says Arthur, "that's..."

...sure something. Awful in some respects, but Siffleur doesn't tell it as if it's a trauma.

"If she's listening, I'm, I'm sorry she had so much trouble."

The idea of speaking to a voice in someone's head doesn't phase him at all at this point; in fact he'd congratulate Siffleur's mother on being one of the least violently unpleasant head-voices he's met in a surprisingly crowded field. But how did Siffleur himself come to change shape? What was going on with the ice pick? And was this like an evil organisation, or... okay, one thing at a time.

"Wh-what do you mean, exactly, when you say she became a god?" Don't let the stammer throw you off; his tone is inquisitive. "That's the sort of thing that I find more and more needs to have its terms defined."

[teethoftherisk]

It's nice of Arthur to say, and Siffleur gives him a nod, and adds a "mmhmm" so he knows it's been acknowledged. "She's better now. Mother says it's safe in my head, and she likes it there."

Though there's another soft huff from Siffleur. "Isn't that the truth? The word's meaningless here. But she's... I didn't see her. I thought she might be dead before I came here. But she said she's not human anymore. She's... big. Like, she's space-big. And time is weird for her now. I guess she's here, and in the past, and the future. She sounds like... kinda like soap bubbles now, just a huge mass of them, shining in the night sky."

[theotherright]

Arthur the antitheist hums at Siffleur's description, and finds that he likes it more than shuffling yellow robes, or cruel bearded patriarchs, or a man having his bloody torture rapturously painted.

"That sounds rather beautiful." He's gotta hand it to her, that's a better way of becoming a god than your common-or-garden power-grab.

"Was she, um," and he has the awkward feeling of talking about someone in the room as if they're not there, "saying that in response to me? Or is it just... something she says, generally?"

[teethoftherisk]

"Yeah. I like it." She's spent so much of her life suffering. It's nice to think of her floating in the breeze, bobbing along without a care in the world.

Siffleur pauses for a moment, then snorts as he puts it together. "That's something she says in general. I can't actually hear her in my head. I have a book, and she can write to me using my hand. It's spirit writing?"

[theotherright]

"Really?" says Arthur, as if not being able to directly hear the voice in your head is the most surprising and unusual thing Siffleur has said so far.

"Right, of course, that's what you mean by writing her-- oh, that's very clever." He's genuinely really quite pleased with this. If he could think about John without hurting, and could thus bully the man, there'd be a joke in here somewhere about spirit writing being a much better idea than actually having to listen to them.

[teethoftherisk]

"Yes. It took a little time to get used to, but we both prefer it to her directly living in my head. This way, we both have some privacy. She lives in my memories and can choose which ones she experiences - and I can put the book away when I want to be alone." Or when he doesn't want to be nagged by her.

[theotherright]

"Yes, privacy is..." Yeah, you know what, Siffleur can have this one. "I'm sure you won't take it the wrong way if I say I have some experience in- in the same area--"

He does say it slightly lower, because there's a difference between telling Siffleur that and telling it to whatever other randomer might be in the vicinity--

"--and the privacy issues that come with someone living right there in your head are unspeakable. The fact that you never have to worry about someone watching through your own eyes as you go to the bathroom is a fucking blessing, let me tell you."

[teethoftherisk]

"John, right?" Siffleur hadn't understood exactly what that all was, and hadn't asked since it wasn't his business. All he knew was that John had eyes and almost nothing else under the mask and clothes, and that he and Arthur had been both inseparable and quick to fight. "You don't have to tell me more."

But, to Arthur's point, he huffs out a little laugh. "Yes, I am very, very grateful that she doesn't see me use the bathroom, or have sex. But she does complain that I didn't try all the meals before the restaurants started working irregularly. She says she wants new things to eat, not just sushi."

[theotherright]

Arthur hadn't thought that Siffleur would clock who he was talking about; while he doesn't have a dramatic reaction to John's name, he does breathe in quickly, and he chases possible answers in his brain before Siffleur releases him from the responsibility of having to catch one.

He just makes a noise of confirmation, and nods.

The comment about sex gets some even more vigorous nodding. Ya boy here has felt various kinds of violation in his life, but realising that Harvey had been watching him with Crichton was a really specific kind of hell. God that relationship was a mistake, glad he's out of it cleanly and with no complications or regrets--

Anyway, he tries to not zoom in on that mention of the restaurants, particularly because he wants to learn more about Siffleur's mother's whole situation, but it's a losing battle.

"Yes, the restaurants." So cool. He's being so cool about it. "Do you... think they've been getting worse these past weeks? I-I can't tell if it's just me, or, w-well."