I want God to come and take me home [OPEN]

[teethoftherisk]

Who: You and... Siffleur?
When: 3-days after the end of the Oct expedition, into November
Where: Daisy's cabin, various places around the ship
Warnings: Gore, body horror, cosmic horror, self-harm, CPTSD/trauma, etc.





1. who am I supposed to be? (Closed to Daisy)

It’s common for Siffleur to show up in the room after expeditions, his body dragged in by Friday sometime in the night and left to finish waking up. They’ve got a system by now - he wakes up, grabs his emergency clothes, and takes off. It’s fairly predictable and simple.

Today, Siffleur starts breathing like usual. His body twitches as he’s on the edge of waking up. Then spasms. And then, with a terrible crunching sound, his ribcage splits wide open and blood splatters over the walls and furnishing. The split doesn’t stop there, quickly spreading up his throat and skull, his face opening like a book until even the bone splits and his pink throbbing brain is on full display. His eyes roll and slither, no longer held in sockets, and his lower-half kicks and twists as it splits in two as well. All of him folds open, and keeps opening, keeps turning until his insides are outside, his organs sliding out of the cavity, his intestines writhing and crawling and still, he keeps turning.

Until finally, with one last wet crunch, all of him inverts again and from the gorey mess on the bed comes flesh - hands and arms and a torso, a whole body birthed from the mess that was Siffleur. It’s an old woman with white hair, scars all over her, and missing toes on one foot. She’s somehow sound asleep despite it all - despite the entrails sliding inside of her unseen back, until the only trace remaining of all of that chaos is the blood still flecked everywhere, and the puddle underneath her.

The woman’s chest rises and falls a few times, and her eyes slowly open.




2. the illusion that you feel is real (Assorted - Open)

There is a stranger on board the ship. She gives a wide berth to people, carrying a nervous and somewhat frantic energy as she ducks out of corridors instead of sharing them, or quickly puts a table or shelf between herself and whoever has come in. She’s older, weighed down by layers of clothing taken from the Tommy Bahamas, but she wears no shoes as she pads silently wherever she goes.

A select few who have the ability to see what others can’t will notice there’s something in her skull, a long sharp sliver of something that glows with a sickly deadlight, an oily shimmering sheen that flickers. Looking at it directly for too long causes an awful headache to form right behind the eyes. She sometimes swats at it, though her hands always go through it.

Occasionally, she’ll stay in one place and not scurry off when others come near. This is mostly at the buffet or bar, where she’ll guard her food or the bottle of vodka she’s drinking from. Occasionally, she has a book in front of her instead - the book Siffleur almost always seems to be writing in. The page she’s on is blank and nothing appears, no matter how much she glares at it.

Anyone who does approach her will get a wary look if they’re a stranger, or a more nervous look if they’re someone who knows Siffleur - and who knows her. She’s older than those who met her in dreams will remember her being, but her voice will be much the same as she tries to fend off the inevitable questions with a- “I don’t know how I got here.”




3. I survived. I speak, I breathe, I'm incomplete (Sports Deck - Open)

Despite how apprehensive she is, despite how much she shrinks in on herself, that’s not her only mood.

As those unfortunate souls who come up to the sports deck will find, emotional regulation is not something she’s capable of. In fact, some poor soul’s first introduction is likely to be of the woman muttering furiously to herself while drawing intricate ritual circles on the deck with sharpies taken from Sundries, her irritation quickly and violently boiling over into screaming, full-body tantrums. She howls and thrashes, slamming her hands and face against the deck, contorting her body and clawing at herself until she draws blood, until she exhausts herself enough that she has no choice but to be calm as she lies on the deck, panting while her wounds slowly heal.

And when she’s calm enough, she starts over, trying desperately to finish a SOS call that can go nowhere.



4. Does anyone ever get this right? (Wildcard - any prompts welcome, DM me if you have any questions)

Comments

1

[hadnoright]

Daisy's seen a lot of fucked up shit in her time. Ungodly amounts of meat in places it shouldn't be. The Archivist watching with all his eyes. People exploding into spiders. Bodies made more of wounds than of skin. Skinless people somehow alive and singing. Flesh hives, swarming with filth. Humans and animals twisted into shapes they shouldn't be.

Which means when she reacts to the gore with a genuinely startled and disturbed, "What the fuck—?!" it says rather a lot about how high up on her weird scale this is.

[teethoftherisk]

Her eyes blink, then snap to look at Daisy.

Whatever momentary peace there was after the Cronenberg-esque transformation shatters as the woman realizes that this is not a memory, not even a memory of a dream, but that the sheets she's touching are real and that she is here, in the open air, in a physical form again. She screams, thrashing violently as she falls off the bed, scrambling for cover.

There's nowhere to hide here, and she's too naked to just run out the door. She ends up barreling into the closet again, collapsing in a pile of limbs and clawing clothes over herself as she huffs and shakes.

[hadnoright]

She repeats: what the fuck—

For a long moment Daisy is very, very still. The woman's panic is far too stark for her to think sudden motion is a good idea, the last thing whatever this situation needs is for the predator-prey switch to flip.

When she finally stands, it's slow and cautious. "...uh. I'm not gonna hurt you."

the illusion that you feel is real - Buffet

[maximumcake]

Max happens to be walking through on his way to the kitchen when he gets a little close to her table, only to watch her pull her food closer protectively. "Oh, sorry. Don't worry, I'm not going to take your plate. Pinky promise."

When he really stops to look at her though there is something just... a little familiar about her. "Have we met before?"

[teethoftherisk]

There's a double-take from her as she realizes who she's shrinking away from, and when he stops and sees her, when he recognizes her, she trembles with relief. "O-oh, oh we have, we h-have, Max. I'm- I'm Siffleur's mother."

She gestures eagerly for him to sit across from her, giving him her best smile. "Max, it's- it's so good to see you Max. I'm sorry I scared you so badly the last time we met. A-and I'm sorry I'll probably scare you again, I-I do that."

[maximumcake]

His eyes go wide. "It is you. Devon? Is that still what you'd like me to call you?"

Her apology almost skims right past him, as he eagerly takes a seat across from her, but he makes a conscious effort to back up and acknowledge it. "It's okay, really. I understand much better now. It's really nice to see you again but... how are you here? Does Siffleur know?" He must. His mother means everything to him.

3. I speak, I breathe, I'm incomplete

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri meant to come up here to train, but that plan has quickly and immediately changed. He unbelts his sword and sets it down, circling until he can approach the collapsed woman from the front. (Carefully not looking directly at ... whatever that is in her head.)

"Ma'am?" he calls out, hands raised. "You're hurt -- may I help you?"

[teethoftherisk]

Her head snaps up to stare at him and she scrambles back, sharpie clutched in her hand. "No, no no, no you c-can't help. It's- I'll heal. I heal quicker than you'd think. I just- I need to calm down and it's- that's the fastest way."

[prince_of_beasts]

"Alright. It's alright." Dimitri sinks to one knee, keeping his hands raised and open. He makes no further move to approach. "I can see you're already healing. That's good. But surely there's a better way to accomplish what you need to than hurting yourself."

[decohere]

She steps carefully over the sharpie marks, not wanting to accidentally smudge the lines and throw the woman into another fit. But. She can only guess this is some sort of attempted magic that's apparently not working.

"Hey," she gently warns of her approach. "You're... do you need some water?" She's holding a cup that she filled up from the buffet just moments earlier after witnessing a rather disturbing scene. With all that screaming she can only imagine the woman's throat is sore.

[teethoftherisk]

There is an instant relief when she hears Ava's voice, and though her voice is as hoarse as Ava expects, it also shakes with relief. "Ava, Ava, yes, I do, I do."

Her hands come up to take the cup, and her smile is embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry you saw that, I didn't- I didn't want us to meet like this."

3

[takethatnature]

"Do you have to do that?" Wilson has a strained tone in his voice that comes from a mixture of concern and confusion. Maybe it's not a good idea to get the attention of a stranger alternating between screaming, muttering, and thrashing her hands against the deck, since last time he interrupted someone in a bad mood it was Daisy and she chased him down and tore his arm off - he fidgets with his panflute - but whatever she's doing is very distracting.

[teethoftherisk]

The woman's head snaps straight over to look at Wilson, her eyes boring holes through him. She moves with a violent grace, moving into a crouch, her body tensed like it's waiting to leap.

She wants to leap. She wants to so badly.

"I could kill you." She says, mouth watering at the very thought. There's a tremor in her voice, just as there's a eager tremble in her limbs. "That would help me calm down e-even quicker. But you're Siffleur's friend. So I'm. Restraining. Myself."

4.

[nepetaleijon]

There's a worried-looking troll girl wandering around the Tommy Bahama, almost unthinkingly avoiding the trail of the Bahamanal and its young while in search of a different scent.

Siffleur isn't usually this hard to find. A couple of times she thinks she's caught his scent, but instead sees only a human woman where he ought to be, and gives her a wide berth while she keeps looking.

[teethoftherisk]

It's on the third circle of the girl that she catches a good look at her and realizes who it is - and who she's looking for.

"Nepeta." She finally calls out, shutting the book she's been waiting for a sign to appear in. "I'm sorry. Siffleur isn't here right now. He's not dead, not... not exactly vanished either. But... he's gone for now."

2

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis cannot avoid the woman forever, her agony and insanity cuts into her soul day and night. She wants Siffleur back and from rumors, she knows his mother wants him back too. It's not hard to find the woman, mumbling over the notebook that isn't responding to her.

"I never did ask your name," she says sitting down nearby, her head screaming in pain despite the calm in her voice.

[teethoftherisk]

There is a small pulse of relief and fear mixed together, and she puts the pen down quickly. "Oh, oh Valdis... I'm- I'm s-sorry, this must be..." Agony. For both of them.

She wipes a little at the corner of her eye with the side of her palm, the spike in her head glowing sickeningly. "I don't have a name anymore. I... it was p-part of the transformation. H-had to make sure it couldn't be used against me. There's power in true names." There's a moment of hesitation, fully aware that sharing this might make Valdis furious. But she'll hear about it, one way or another. "I t-told Max to call me Devon, so... so you can use that one too. It's the mountain the Siffleur river flows from..."

3. I survived. I speak, I breathe, I'm incomplete

[crushed_pearls]

Erin comes on this scene at a low point, when the stranger has exhausted herself. She squats down a few feet away, resting on her heels with a concerned look. It smells like a lot of blood here right now - really more than should be possible from someone of this size. Another monster with a healing factor?

A new passenger, in any event.

"...I take it the news about where we are hit ya kinda hard, ma'am?"

[teethoftherisk]

She raises her head, and what comes from her raw throat is a unexpected cackle. The woman drops the marker, gathers her hands in her layers cardigans and whispers, "Y-you have no idea, Erin."

2 - topy

[millay]

Getting past October was a trial. One she's glad is at least over for the most part. She knows the drink doesn't do anything, doesn't change anything, but it doesn't stop her from deciding to deal with the aftermath of a month mentally coiled tighter than most mechanical objects by drinking sherry. She's decided she deserves it for not reacting much past the general lack of sleep she experienced.

When she steps into the bar, she pauses, glancing over at the woman that seems to be glaring at a book. It's someone she recognizes, which is the strangest part of it all. She slowly and carefully moves to get her sherry before looking at the woman again.

"Never thought I'd see you outside of the memories, darling." She's not sure she should say much more than that or if the woman remembers her at all. She's careful not to move too fast or too suddenly now that she's drawn more attention to herself.

[teethoftherisk]

Her head jerks up, and there's a flood of emotion that runs over her, relief and delight all mingled together.

"Maeve. It's g-good to see you." She makes a quick gesture for Maeve to join her. "I didn't either. This is... all accidental. I think. I'm... still not sure what happened. But, it's- it's been better than I thought. There's so many of you to meet again..."

2

[obeyseventually]

Jack hadn't seen Siffleur right away that morning, so he figured he could just catch up with him at the TB. Maybe make a game out of it, even.

So, as he would on a normal day, he heads to the buffet for breakfast, and he makes it all the way to the food before he realizes why that woman looks familiar.

No. It can't - how is she - what is she doing here?

Jack stares a little more and then recalls starkly how that's probably not a great idea with someone in... Siffleur's mom's condition, so he nuts up and walks over to her table.

"Does-" Siffleur know, he almost asks, but then recalls that if she's here as a passenger, she wouldn't even know who he is. He winces and then tries to pull an introduction out of this.

"Sorry, that is, are you new here?" he asks like this is normal. It is normal, right?

[teethoftherisk]

Her head whips up the moment she sees someone approaching her, but she goes quiet when she sees it's Jack. She's known she'd have to tell him sooner rather than later but...

"Jack." She says his name, pushing her plate aside as she gestures for him to sit down. "Jack I-I'm- I'm sorry, something terrible happened. I-I... I'm in his b-body and he's- he's n-not here."

3.

[abhorrently]

It's in one of those quieter moments that Fever approaches, though she's been hanging around for longer. Long enough to see the tantrum, the anguish, the convulsions - funny, how she had gone through something like that in her mind not so long ago, on this very deck. It pulls at her heartstrings for sympathy, but at the same time, the circle has her attention as well.

Soft, nearly noiseless steps, as she approaches, trying to glean any information from what's been drawn, and then bringing her eyes to the stranger. But there's a coiling tension in her that one primed to violence would know, the careful holding of the self in check to switch to something worse if she needs to.

"Might be best to give yourself a genuine break for the moment."

Since it's driving her to self injury.

[teethoftherisk]

"N-no such thing." She mutters out, voice wet and lisping slightly. "There's n-never a genuine break."

Slowly, she pushes her hair back over her shoulder and stares down at the circle, her hand squeezing the sharpie tightly. The frustration is still there, but she's tired now, exhausted enough that it's lessened so she can look at her work without screaming and thrashing.

She doesn't recognize this one. No name, anyway. Siffleur might have spotted her at a distance, but she wasn't notable, wasn't someone he'd talked to. Makes her nervous, not knowing what this one is, what they do. She pulls her layers tighter around herself.