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_sailaway2022-10-14 11:12 pm
teethoftherisk) wrote in come_sailaway2022-10-14 11:12 pm
unzip my body, take my heart out [open]
Who: Siffleur and you
What: Catchall
When: Mid-end October
Where: Various
CW: Violence, maiming, death, possible cannibalism (opt-in only)
1. Fate's Design
Siffleur has gotten the impression that he's been brought on board at a strange time. There's blood everywhere, people avoiding one another, and nothing seems to be working. It reminds him too much of his brief time in the oil sands, though at least the scent is more pleasant, and there's fewer drugs lying around.
He's never seen a casino so empty in his life and he's enjoying it. The slot machines hold no real appeal after the first few times of using the infinite supply of chips to get fewer chips back. For now, he's settled on one of the tables with a deck of cards, playing solitaire while cross-legged.
When he spots motion, his head snaps up to see who else has come in here. Siffleur does not do this subtly - he stares openly and unabashedly at the person, the queen of diamonds in his hand.
2. Promenade
There's a cougar lounging up on one of the awnings of the faux-street's various businesses, one leg dangling over the edge. He's terribly bored. The sushi bar isn't working anymore and while he can get food from the buffet, it's not the same. There was something pleasing about having it go around on that little track. It didn't scratch the itch to hunt, but it served some other base desire he apparently had for a carousel of never-ending fish.
Which means that when he spots a human wander by, his ears perk up. Hmm. Giles said they can't die forever here, and the remains he's come across prove that the others aren't shy about exercising that ability. And while he's certain his prey of choice might be sore about their death, they will come back. So will he, if he's picked the wrong target.
He carefully draws his leg up and shifts into a pouncing position, taking a better look at the human walking down the promenade, trying to decide if they seem like good prey.
3. Spirit Halloween
He likes what's happened to the clothing store. It doesn't stink like perfume anymore, or play those awful songs. Someone trashed huge chunks of it when he was out, but it just made more hiding places for him to lurk in. The clothing monster is still here, slouching around to and fro with various costumes stuck to it's body, but it's easy enough to outrun it. He's also made a few good sleeping spots high up on the tallest displays.
Siffleur's marked his territory here and there, just on the off-chance there's more creatures on the ship like him. They can have other places to claim for their own he likes this one, so it's his now. The various hanging ghosts and skeletons provide him with plenty of camouflage. And he mostly has the trick to finding the exits when he wants to leave. Mostly.
There's a person stumbling around the store right now and it's woken him up from his nap. Siffleur watches them browse the various costumes and try some pieces on before he stretches out and yawns, emerging from the wig display he's been sleeping in. "Doesn't suit you." He offers the unsolicited criticism shamelessly.
4. Wildcard
Anything you'd like. He's always around somewhere.
What: Catchall
When: Mid-end October
Where: Various
CW: Violence, maiming, death, possible cannibalism (opt-in only)
1. Fate's Design
Siffleur has gotten the impression that he's been brought on board at a strange time. There's blood everywhere, people avoiding one another, and nothing seems to be working. It reminds him too much of his brief time in the oil sands, though at least the scent is more pleasant, and there's fewer drugs lying around.
He's never seen a casino so empty in his life and he's enjoying it. The slot machines hold no real appeal after the first few times of using the infinite supply of chips to get fewer chips back. For now, he's settled on one of the tables with a deck of cards, playing solitaire while cross-legged.
When he spots motion, his head snaps up to see who else has come in here. Siffleur does not do this subtly - he stares openly and unabashedly at the person, the queen of diamonds in his hand.
2. Promenade
There's a cougar lounging up on one of the awnings of the faux-street's various businesses, one leg dangling over the edge. He's terribly bored. The sushi bar isn't working anymore and while he can get food from the buffet, it's not the same. There was something pleasing about having it go around on that little track. It didn't scratch the itch to hunt, but it served some other base desire he apparently had for a carousel of never-ending fish.
Which means that when he spots a human wander by, his ears perk up. Hmm. Giles said they can't die forever here, and the remains he's come across prove that the others aren't shy about exercising that ability. And while he's certain his prey of choice might be sore about their death, they will come back. So will he, if he's picked the wrong target.
He carefully draws his leg up and shifts into a pouncing position, taking a better look at the human walking down the promenade, trying to decide if they seem like good prey.
3. Spirit Halloween
He likes what's happened to the clothing store. It doesn't stink like perfume anymore, or play those awful songs. Someone trashed huge chunks of it when he was out, but it just made more hiding places for him to lurk in. The clothing monster is still here, slouching around to and fro with various costumes stuck to it's body, but it's easy enough to outrun it. He's also made a few good sleeping spots high up on the tallest displays.
Siffleur's marked his territory here and there, just on the off-chance there's more creatures on the ship like him. They can have other places to claim for their own he likes this one, so it's his now. The various hanging ghosts and skeletons provide him with plenty of camouflage. And he mostly has the trick to finding the exits when he wants to leave. Mostly.
There's a person stumbling around the store right now and it's woken him up from his nap. Siffleur watches them browse the various costumes and try some pieces on before he stretches out and yawns, emerging from the wig display he's been sleeping in. "Doesn't suit you." He offers the unsolicited criticism shamelessly.
4. Wildcard
Anything you'd like. He's always around somewhere.
1
The ship is going to hell around them, revenants either on strike or snatching host bodies where they can in order to torment the rest of the passengers. Nothing's repairing itself, Friday's a ragged mess, and the Captain is absent — but that's no reason to grow sloppy with routine. That corner is where she's heading this day, a Serena Eterna tote bag across a shoulder containing notebook, pen, gauze, and knife. By itself, a lone figure at a table isn't necessarily a distraction — adults filter in and out of this place regularly enough, plenty of them strangers as the ships population exponentially grows every week or so — but drawing closer and being unexpectedly greeted with a direct and heavy stare is enough to stop her dead in her tracks.
They're maybe... fifteen feet apart, with a poker table between them. There's a thin line between human caution and prey behavior, and Clarke's baseline always lilts toward overprepared for unexpected mayhem. It never takes much to get her adrenaline to spike. But, same hat? It's been a really shitty month already, and something about living in perpetual chaos and grief can have a numbing effect on preservation instincts. She does not know this man, could not say if he were dangerous or not.
...yet still ultimately sneers back in disdain, a very 'classic teenager' reaction to unwanted attention, and very plainly communicating: what are you looking at?
no subject
He does not take his eyes off of her, and he does not break the stare, his eyes boring a hole through her. But his posture changes, both hands settling flat on the table as he lifts himself out of his cross-legged position. Siffleur gets his legs under him, moving into a crouch - ready to lunge or run depending on the situation. The card is now folded under his hand, his game forgotten entirely.
She looks human but there's something slightly... strange about the smell. Not strongly, not too intensely, but something that makes his ears want to twitch. There's no obvious weapon on her, but there might be one in the bag. He knows the nearest cover, and he also knows the quickest way to reach her.
Siffleur tenses and waits to see how this one plays out. While he did come here to play cards, he would easily discard the game for a chance at prey.
no subject
She likes that quiet, purposeful shift in posture so much less than she'd liked the steady, heavy staring — and that'd already been about at level zero. Clarke takes two full steps backwards as he moves, right until she's bumping into a chair at another poker table. One hand shoots behind her to steady it, and the other fusses in midair, seemingly reluctant to reach for any sort of defense preemptively. She's made enough bad impressions, and any lengths that can be gone to avoid a redux are hastily followed. Still, Clarke's the opposite of comfortable in this silent, eye contact tango.
Finally pipes up, all steeled bravado and false confidence:
"Sorry to interrupt your game. You can go back to playing, unless there's something I can help you with."
no subject
Siffleur continues eye contact, just as she does, though some of the amusement has leaked into the rest of his face too. "I don't need anything. What do you need in here?"
no subject
Somehow, the humor coloring his features is even worse than the blank assessment beforehand. But this time at least, Clarke curtails her desire to sneer back in turn. Still, she's a place where amusement goes to die and for every ounce of tension he lets leech from his posture, she's hardening the bindings between her own cells and paranoia. That chair she'd upset is upright now, and without much thought or even looking at it, Clarke pushes it back in to the table it belongs to.
"I'm just here for a quiet place to think. Away from prying eyes."
You, your eyes, you're the one watching too closely Siffleur.
"So I mean it. Go back to your game, and I won't bother you."
no subject
And then, slowly but surely, he lets himself blink. While he doesn't settle into a full seated position, he does break eye contact and turn his attention back to his game. The crumbled queen is slid back into the desk since there's nowhere to put her, and he picks a new card.
Of course, he isn't ignoring the woman entirely. He is very aware of her presence here, and if she wants true privacy, she won't find it around him. But he will offer her the silence she wants, and he lets the hush settle back over the casino.
no subject
...only to find her little spot between slot machines against the far wall, and realize with a rush of latent panic that she has absolutely no desire to be walked into a corner. Siffleur may be contentedly playing solitaire 100 feet behind her, he doesn't need to be breathing down her neck to set the hairs at the base of her skull on end. Yeah, nah, fuck this, magic can wait for another day.
In the end, she'll circle back around, giving him and his table a wide berth but casting a few wary, none too covert glances his way while making for the exit.
no subject
Siffleur doesn't say anything about her retreat. But he certainly does smirk to himself as he lays a 4 down on his small piles of cards.