mood in my tomb red moon heavy [OPEN & CLOSED]

[teethoftherisk]

Who: Siffleur, Daisy, Jack Bioshock and you
What: Catch-all
Where: Quarters, Tommy Bahamas and Mikabo sushi bar
When: Early November
Warnings: Violence, gore, cannibalism, suicidal ideation, aggressive flirtations & sex



1. Home Sweet Home (cabin - closed to Daisy)

Siffleur goes back to the cabin maybe twice a week at most. It’s where the shower is, which is something he has gotten used to and enjoys. He can keep himself clean, but hot water works out the knots nicely.

Someone else moved in last week. Their scent is less than human, heavy and musky, and it’s taken a great deal of restraint from him not to ruin their things. But this isn’t his place - his place is in the Tommy Bahamas and he’s content to stay there most of the time. So far, he’s been lucky enough to enter the room when the other person isn’t in.

Today, he’s not so lucky, and as he opens the door, he’s hit with an even stronger version of her smell. He grunts to himself and steps inside, closing the door behind him as he finally gets a look at his roommate.

Siffleur pauses and tips his head to the side as he gets a good look at her human shaped form. “Hmm. Shapechanger, werewolf, something else?”



2. Life Is One Long Weekend! (Tommy Bahamas - open)

Outside the Tommy Bahamas is a large posterboard and a sign-up sheet with a pen on a string, and a selection of brightly coloured armbands made from various items within the Tommy Bahamas. Block letters in thick sharpie offer an explanation:

TIKTOK CHALLENGE: SURVIVE 1 HOUR IN TOMMY BAHAMAS
MUST WRITE DOWN NAME AND TIME STARTED AND WEAR ARMBAND TO PARTICIPATE
WINNER GETS TO PET A COUGAR
LOSERS AGREE TO BE EATEN

There’s no sign of Siffleur. He’s somewhere inside, waiting.

((additional rules here))


3. Tommy Bahamas Is for Lovers (Tommy Bahamas - closed to Jack)

Somewhere, over one of the various repeating men’s sections, Siffleur is bedded down in a selection of various throws. It’s comfortable and enclosed up at the top of the shelves, and he’s about to settle into a lull when a somewhat familiar scent comes to him.

It’s the man from the aftermath of the Halloween party. He raises his head, feeling a thrum of excitement. Siffleur slinks out of his hiding spot and makes his way along the tops of the shelves and racks, until he comes across the man.

Siffleur sits and waits, watching him and deciding his best point of attack.


4. greedy little kitty (Mikabo sushi bar - Open)

A regular at the sushi restaurant, Siffleur can be found sitting on a stool at the counter with a scattering of plates in front of him and around him on the floor. As always, he sits in his cougar form, content to paw selections off the belt and lap them up before discarding the plate.

Other entering passengers may get looked at, but not for long. After all, there’s always more sushi to eat. And perhaps most infuriatingly, he’s set up at the first position, so he always gets his first pick of the best sushi. If there’s a piece you want, you might have to speak up first.


5. Wildcard

As always, DM me to discuss.

Comments

Greedy Little Kitty

[businessorlibation]

Johnny pauses in the doorway of Mikabo, staring for a moment. Well, this is awkward...

"I don't suppose it'd be alright with you if I come join you for lunch?"

Look, he's tired, he's stressed, planning a wedding, and he just wants some fish. He isn't in the mood to let a fucking cougar deter him from this today.

[teethoftherisk]

"You can come in." Siffleur answers, casting a glace back at him before returning to the sushi treadmill. "I don't hunt in here. I just eat."

He pauses to paw a particularly succulent looking bit of salmon over to him. "I'm trying something new with hunting. I'm asking people to gamble."

[businessorlibation]

Johnny steps in, keeping a nice polite distance despite the reassurance.

"Gamble? What do you mean by that?"

2. Life Is One Long Weekend! (RP; as discussed)

[crushed_pearls]

When Johnny tells Erin about the death game in the Infinite Tommy Bahama she's excited about it. Perhaps to a concerning degree, to be honest, but she sets about making some preparations; a note needs to be written, an outfit needs to be assembled, battle plans thought through.

Hopefully this mystery cat has a sense of fun, she thinks to herself frequently through that day.

The next day Erin shows up and signs her name (her cursive is still pretty good if you ignore the way it jags upwards off the line entirely). She's dressed in the clothes Johnny helped pick out for her first drink with Crabb, looted from this very store, and has brought her survival knife, her bag of nickels, and her otherwise very empty belt of pouches. At the entrance to the store she pricks her finger with her knife and smears the blood on a nickel, which she sets on the floor; proof of her presence.

|Smoke, we're going hunting. Dissolve my trail if you could be so kind.|

Smoke sayeth: And here I thought you'd forgotten about me.

As all scents and traces Erin would leave behind simply cease to be, Erin concentrates and crushes her Mantle down, snuffing out the scents of sex and gunpowder and erasing the presence of Spring as well.

"Party time," she murmurs to herself, and then she vanishes into the racks.

-----------

Perhaps fifteen minutes later one of the little stools for putting your feet on while you try on shoes goes sliding into the middle of an aisle, out in plain sight. On it is a note weighed down by four bloody nickels which, removed from Erin's presence, release the scent of that blood into the air.

If investigated, the note is in Johnny Summer's neat handwriting.

Salutations, mighty hunter!

I suspect we have not met. My name is Erin, and I have come to take your challenge. However, I would like to offer a counter-proposal. I enjoy a spot of hunting and trapping myself, and I am intrigued by the prospect of a hunt in a space without true end. Here is my offer: both our lives on the line. If I end you, I request immunity for Helena Adams, my roommate; you will not predate upon her regardless of circumstance. If this forfeit is acceptable to you, please voice your acceptance and name what additional prize, if any, you would seek to claim. Favors of a sexual nature will be refused and treated as declining this additional offer.

In the spirit of fair play I will not attack with magic, and name my supplies: one knife, camouflage, an endless supply of the nickels you see here on this note, the blindfold which enables me to see, steel-toed boots, and whatever I can gain from this environment.

Regardless of your acceptance or refusal it is only fair if I consider the hour of the challenge started after I receive your answer.

Warm regards,

Erin Peters (transcription by Johnny Summer)

In the distance, shrouded in the racks, Erin silently pulls laces and elastic from every bit of clothing she can reach while she awaits her answer.

[teethoftherisk]

There's no quicker way to get his attention than bleeding, and so Siffleur slowly emerges from his own hiding spot near the top of the racks. After a quick look around, he hops down and heads over to read the note.

Siffleur has been hoping mostly for the young and the bold to take his proposal. A fellow hunter appeals even more, especially one who seems to be bargaining on behalf of a friend. He reads it over a second time, considering what she considers to be camouflage - since he can't smell any scent coming from anywhere but the nickles - and what he would want as an additional prize.

After a moment or two, he raises his voice. "Your counter-proposal is accepted. I need no additional prize. Devouring you is enough." A pause, a consideration, and then a clarification. "That is meant sincerely, not sexually. If I lose, remove my sign and items from the front door and place them behind one of the tills. The game is only available while I am alive."

And with that settled, Siffleur quickly slips out of sight again, heading straight through a nearby rack of shirts and making his way back to the high hunting ground. If her scent will be hard to find, then he'll have to make use of his other senses.

[crushed_pearls]

Is it fair that Erin has a good sightline from where she lurks? No, but one must consider the situation. Big cats are generally hunted with pits and, failing that, big guns; Erin has neither available to her, and in any event she won't do her opponent the discourtesy of believing he did not think of that before accepting her offer. So she stays in place, braiding together makeshift ropes, until she has an idea of the direction the cougar has gone in.

And then longer; when the speakers play something a little louder, a little more pop-y, then Erin starts moving, trusting the music to cover what sound her boots make that she can't eliminate with careful steps. The pulse is pounding in her veins, full of the thrill of malice unfurled. No hard feelings, no tangled troubles, no careful holding back.

Just two folks tryin' to kill each other for the hell of it. Beautiful.

Erin moves deeper into the store and claims one of the copies of the Plus Sized section as her killing ground. She lashes racks together with her improvised ropes, leaving ends dangling so that she can change the terrain with just a yank here or there.

If she's not interrupted, the first sign of her position will be the sound of shearing metal as she carefully removes the top of a rack and snaps off the end with a stomp to make a jagged spear.

Followed by all the clothes sliding off it, of course.

2! Sorta

[theweakhavepurpose]

Deputy Pratt has had a thrilling day of meeting his bosses boss and getting a first hand (heh, that will be funny soon) reminder of the fact that he makes the worst decisions ever. Has he made a good decision since he's been on the boat? Probably not. But this might have been the uh.. least good, worst baddest. Not great.

He's walking back to his room from his metric review with Blackbeard, hand bunched up against his shirt to staunch the bleeding, aiming to go grab something to use as a bandage from the Tommy Bahama when he spots that sign. That is... that is fantastic. He laughs before entering the store to grab the first thing that looks absorbent and start wrapping it around his hand.

"Can I get a raincheck on the challenge? This is gonna make it unfair in your favor." Pratt doesn't know if the cougar can even talk, but he holds up his hand briefly, his pinky finger missing, bone and fat and muscle exposed in a way that doesn't feel pleasant at all. A few droplets of blood have leaked from the entrance to where he's standing now. He curses as he wraps that up, he'll do a better job back in his room, he just needs to get stabilized so he doesn't pass out before he gets there.

[teethoftherisk]

"You may. I will be running the challenge many times in the future." The cougar answers from on high. A pair of golden eyes peer down at him from a display singing the joys of pina coladas. The smell of blood and the mangled flesh makes his stomach rumble, and he is very tempted to break his own rules...

But that defeats the point of all of this, and he stays where he is, watching the man wrap his hand up. "You did not put an armband on or write your name down, so I will not attack you. But unless you heal very quickly, you may prefer that I kill you now. That way, you would be intact come tomorrow."

[theweakhavepurpose]

He glances up towards the sound of the voice, unsurprised to see an actual cougar. That tracks with everything else around here. This one is bigger than Peaches, the cougar he had to deal with back home, but that was more like a pet, and she'd liked him because he always brought her snacks. This one talks, and is running a challenge that while he doesn't know what tik tok is because he's from 2018, he gets the 'viral meme video' thing pretty handily.

"Well, he threatened to cut out my tongue and take the rest of the fingers, if that happens, you're on. Think I'm good just down one. Even though this fucking hurts." He hisses as he ties down a floral print scarf around the stub of a finger.

"Gotten to eat anyone yet?"

2 // RNG RNG RNG!!!!

[konpeito_aji]

Nobunaga does NOT tell anyone else he's doing this, because Crichton is already a bit freaked out by the idea, and Teyrey would be disappointed, and Klaus would be worse. Of course, if he does die, he already told them where it'd be, and also... there's his name in bright red sparkly glitter on the board, like he's way too unreasonably proud of this shit. Because he is. He wants to know if anyone else can handle this hardcore level of "FLARP" did they call it? Sure. Whatever.

The worst part is, he's probably going to... Keep doing it?

This is his new favorite game!!! Go doesn't have get eaten by a cougar when you lose!

ARMBAND GET!

Now let's see...

He had a bunch of sushi in puzzle boxes to scatter, but won't that be a problem if it slows him down? Ah, but maybe it will help as distractions. If only he had catnip or whatever weed worked best on cougars too to make it even more interesting. He'll have to remember this next time.

His stupid wristwatch gets started, as he writes down the time and let's go!

[teethoftherisk]

It's with delight that Siffleur spots Nobunaga enter with an armband on. The demon king has been a good friend, and he's very interested to see how well he is. While it would be easy to dart out now and catch him, that's the very last thing Siffleur wants.

Instead, he lets Nobunaga enter the store, giving him a chance to put some distance between himself and the entrance, and to break Siffleur's line of sight. He slowly counts to a three hundred, and then he begins to move, following Nobunaga's distinctive scent trail.

He pads silently through the racks and displays, ears twitching now and then as he listens for the sounds of anyone else present in the store. His stomach rumbles ever so slightly and he salivates, thinking about how Nobunaga will taste.

Hopefully deliciously.

Do you want to roll or should I?

[konpeito_aji]

Probably delicious! But that depends on whether you like lean and a lifetime of hardened muscles. He is a sumo wrestler, ironically enough, but it was his own idea to create the rings to turn it into more of a sport like the Western wrestling rather than the go-forever-or-until-exhausted, since watching 1500 matches he wanted it to end sooner rather than never. So back then, sumo was less about weight and more about sheer strength. Besides, there was never enough food in 'Hell.'

If you are what you eat though, then Nobunaga is pure fucking candy. Should he have a better diet than ice cream, candy, and desserts? Yes, probably. But without Hideyoshi to nag him about it, he does let himself get away with it constantly. But he eat some sushi and hibachi now and again so it's not too bad. In theory. Just don't spill the gunpowder. It's like eating fugu, you have to make sure to separate the poisoned liver first and precisely.

Nobunaga's instincts are on high alert, but it occurs to him, he should probably scatter his sushi boxes as much as possible or he'll just be drawing attention. So his scent is very quickly all over the place as he haphazardly runs about and even purposely leaves bits of clothing here and there. The downside is there are no trees to climb. The bright side is clothes make for excellent shields.

Is he having too much fun with this? Yes, definitely. Would his generals all disapprove? Yeah probably. Good thing they're not here to tell him off!

1

[hadnoright]

The Captain really thinks he's funny, doesn't he? Daisy didn't miss the weird mix of human and cat that lingered in the room, of course she didn't, though it was faint enough that it was clear from the start that whoever else was assigned here didn't make a habit of hanging about for long. She certainly doesn't miss the sound of someone outside the door, or the same scent as he steps inside.

She's already on her feet, up from where she'd been lounging on the couch with one earbud in—her phone and earphones are still sat on the cushions, even. Not that being on her feet does much for her, considering the way she has to crane her neck to even look the giant stranger in the face.

"Is that how you greet everyone you meet?" Snark for snark's sake, really. She rolls her eyes faintly. "None of the above. What you see, is what you get. You wanna get technical about it and I'm a Hunter. You, though, I can smell the cat on you."

[teethoftherisk]

"Everyone who smells like an animal, yes." He answers the question, even though he's fully aware it wasn't really meant to be one. It's easier if he makes things clear from the beginning. Though the answer he gets isn't one he expects, and he tips his head somewhat. "Never met a hunter who smelled like you. Most of them smell like gunpowder, or chemical musk."

Siffleur points to himself. "Werecougar. I'm here to shower."

[hadnoright]

"Yeah, well, Hunter means something a little different where I come from. Take it up with the guy who classified the Fears. Or just think of it with a capital H. I don't hunt animals, I hunt... well. I suppose it depends what you consider people."

There still exists a layer of doublethink, within Daisy. On one hand, she recognises that monsters like herself and Jon are people who got in too deep, who gave something of themselves up, who can very much choose to refrain and try to retain what remains of their humanity. On the other... she can't quite shake the distrust of others who stand anywhere from just to the left of human to all the way across the world from it.

"Well that explains the eau de wet cat back there... hm." Little head tilt. "Don't think I've even had the pleasure of meeting an actual were of any kind."

Her last voyage had more than its fair share of people who weren't simply human, but...

Tommy Bahama IS for lovers

[obeyseventually]

Jack, for his part, has completely forgotten about the weird, five sentence conversation he had with the guy at the party aftermath. That's way at the back of his mind, buried under the re-adjustment he's had to do over the last few days as things got back to normal - which included, as it turned out, the drinking age thing - and he had a room again (sort of, still under negotiation).

Currently, front of the line of things before that conversation is finding himself some new clothes, now that an actual clothes store is back. He has a few spares from the merchandise part of the Spirit Halloween, but compared to the infinite Tommy Bahama, the selection was terribly small.

So here Jack is again, fresh out of a nautical hell murderfest, browsing an endless islandwear store, only this time it's harder to find the enthusiasm for the brightly coloured prints. He holds up one that's a pretty similar colour configuration to the one he lost, turns it this way and that, frowns and then drapes it over his arm.

He grabs a few others in this way and then finds a mirror where he repeats this process again, this time holding the shirt to his body as he looks at his reflection and tries to feel something. Hm. Nah. Nope. Not his colour. Maybe? Hmmm.

If he has the sense that he's being watched, then it's something he chalks up to lingering habits rekindled by October's bullshit.

[teethoftherisk]

The man has his guard down entirely. Has he forgotten? Or is this an invitation? Siffleur isn't certain. But it doesn't truly matter - he'll find out soon enough, and they can go from there.

He moves around silently until he finds a good vantage point just to the side of the man, trying to stay out of his line of sight - and also avoid the mirror's reflection. It's a tricky situation, but he threads the needle, setting up between a pair of garish mannequins.

Siffleur waits for him to raise a shirt to his body before he leaps down, slamming his body weight straight into the man to lay him out on the floor - and to find out exactly what the drilled man is capable of.

[obeyseventually]

Once again, his instincts come through despite his best attempt to shut them out. Pale human-shaped statues moving, even slightly, is enough to make Jack turn before he's even aware of the reason for it, which means at least he's facing the danger when it slams into him.

Another small blessing is that the shirt he was holding up is now draped over the head of the attacking thing, which buys Jack a second unseen for his other reflex to kick in:

As he hits the floor hard and a grunt grinds through his teeth, his veins light up blue, and the hand he claps against the mountain lion's ribs is sparking with electricity when it connects.

4

[actuallyawolf]

Cats are not the only ones who like a bit of fish now and then.

Ylva pauses, tense, in the doorway of Mikabo, lip curled in a snarl as she debates what she should do. She could turn and leave, but she's not a coward, and she's not afraid of him. Still, if she had fur at the moment, her hackles would be raised.

"Are you hunting in here, too?" Because yes, she saw his sign outside the Tommy Bahama.

[teethoftherisk]

Here comes the shewolf, once again wearing the human form she is overly fond of. His ears flatten but he doesn't stop reaching for a plate of sushi, dumping additional empty plates on the floor as he refuses to even glance in her direction. "I am eating my fill of sushi today. I had my hunt in the Tommy Bahamas yesterday, and I am sated for now."

[actuallyawolf]

She relaxes, fractionally. She's still on alert, but... fractionally. She's not going to ever really let her guard down around him, but for now, she's not looking for a fight.

"Does that mean people are actually taking you up on your offer?" Ylva sounds a little incredulous. She takes a seat at what seems to be a safe/respectful distance down the sushi conveyor belt, enough distance for her to react if he decides to not be so peaceable.

Tommy Bahamas (d20: 18)

[thefreak]

[ ooc: what a fucking lucky roll man. ]

Eddie had entered the Tommy Bahamas with the intention of grabbing more materials to Frankenstein together a new outfit. Since apparently that is all that he's got going on for him at the moment. What? It's something to do to keep his mind off the hellscape that is his jumbled up mess of memories.

The posterboard immediately catches his attention. He'll later claim it was out of boredom, but maybe there's a self destructive part of him that wants to test his own limits as well as the limits of the whole dying thing.

Time to see if his whole running and hiding shtick pays off.

Hell yeah congrats! Let's give Eddie a chance to shine!

[teethoftherisk]

Siffleur has put up the challenge and is currently lounging in one of the many nests of throws he's made. He should be paying full attention but it's warm, and he's warm, and it's been quiet so far, so he's half asleep-

Until his eyes catch a glimpse of movement in the distance. He raises his head to get a better look, and to see if they have an armband on, but they're gone before he can check for the flash of colour. He gets out of the nest and quickly heads down, making his way to the front to check if there's a new name.

And there is - Eddie Munson. He takes a sniff of the paper, getting the scent of male and sweat and other things. Then he heads into the depths of the store to find the boy, and to help himself to a meal. He starts where he caught the flash of motion.

Except, in a turn of rotten luck for Siffleur and wonderful luck for Eddie, Siffleur unknowingly heads for a space that has already been abandoned.

4 idk if i should apologize, but i am

[millay]

It's been a long time since Maeve has actually decided to come out to eat food. She doesn't strictly need it, so the concept of forcing it when she barely feels like she exists half the time is...well, pointless.

She pauses, not actually aware of the cougar by reputation given the month of non-existence and barely leaving her room since coming back, so her mind is only aware of Ylva as someone that changes into creatures. "I...didn't know you came here." She'll feel bad about it later, but...that's a problem for future!Maeve. She moves a bit further inside. "I also didn't know you favored cats." Magic truly is something.

yeeesssss no apologies ever required

[teethoftherisk]

Siffleur is used to people pausing when they enter the sushi bar and see him. He's even somewhat used to conversation. He's far less used to being talked to by someone as if they know him already, and he blinks a few times as he tries to put together who this woman thinks he is.

There's something... off about her scent. It's nice and light, lavender of some kind. But there's something underneath it as well - or maybe an absence of what should be underneath it? He sets both his paws on the counter, crossing them over each other. "I come here often. The fresh fish is good. And I have never been known to favour anything but a cat. I suspect I am someone different than you expect me to be."