![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[Late that evening, or early the next morning depending on how you look at it, Sam is getting a text from a certain Siren, sup]
I thought of something I could use your help with, Mr.Murdoch. This is J from Siren's Melodies. Hopefully you still remember me. I know there were quite a few new names and faces at the little sticker rally, but Cirrus is so good with information, I figured you might still recall.
I thought of something I could use your help with, Mr.Murdoch. This is J from Siren's Melodies. Hopefully you still remember me. I know there were quite a few new names and faces at the little sticker rally, but Cirrus is so good with information, I figured you might still recall.
[A little bottle of fragrance is being set outside Cirrus' door. The gift tag simply announces that it's for Sam and that the gifter 'can't bake so this will have to do'. If Sam gives it a sniff, he'll see it's a lavender cologne, light enough to wear to sleep.]
[ HOLY CRAP IS THIS A GIFT FROM SOMEONE THAT ISN'T AUNT LUCY OR UNCLE LOU??? THIS IS SO NICE WOW.
he'll send a text message to Jewel because ... well he has no friends beyond him and Chiffon, so it makes for easy identification. ]
waaah.
Thank You so much?? This was really nice of you, I'll definitely use it! 💜
btw, can still teach you to bake or anything else like that if you want. Offer is always open.
he'll send a text message to Jewel because ... well he has no friends beyond him and Chiffon, so it makes for easy identification. ]
waaah.
Thank You so much?? This was really nice of you, I'll definitely use it! 💜
btw, can still teach you to bake or anything else like that if you want. Offer is always open.
hey handsome
that was pretty fucked up huh
and lucky for you ive got some great therapy for that kind of thing >:3
and a fun little surprise too
that was pretty fucked up huh
and lucky for you ive got some great therapy for that kind of thing >:3
and a fun little surprise too
did you manage to wash the slime off
[ The details almost were certainly hashed out. The place. The time. The absolute lack of any rules whatsoever. Which healer was on standby.
But it means this late afternoon, Brocade's waiting for Sam in the rage room. His fists are wrapped, and his shirt is off somewhere across a broken minifridge. By the gleam about him and the bright, predatory eyes, he's already been warming up. ]
Heeyyy, good t'see ya.
[ It's a toothy grin, fangs long and sharp, tail swaying behind him. ] I aint got no hold backs. You?
But it means this late afternoon, Brocade's waiting for Sam in the rage room. His fists are wrapped, and his shirt is off somewhere across a broken minifridge. By the gleam about him and the bright, predatory eyes, he's already been warming up. ]
Heeyyy, good t'see ya.
[ It's a toothy grin, fangs long and sharp, tail swaying behind him. ] I aint got no hold backs. You?
[ there's something about Sam's posture and the way he walks that seems way far off from even his text messages and stupid ideas. At least he was trying to play it off as sensible and then backed down when everyone told him to knock his shit off.
but there's just something different, something really heavy like he doesn't know if he wants to flip his shit or break down and cry. When he looks up, he's trying to really hard to smile because he's so very appreciative of Brocade doing this. ]
Yeah. [ Sam's going to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt to leave himself in jeans and his gloves, but even his hands are trembling as he tossed his stuff near Brocade's. He's shaking a little but, he swallows and says. ]
Hey. Promise me something? Other than Gray, don't tell anyone about this? It's gonna be such a bad look for me.
[ Sam licks his lips almost nervously. ]
but there's just something different, something really heavy like he doesn't know if he wants to flip his shit or break down and cry. When he looks up, he's trying to really hard to smile because he's so very appreciative of Brocade doing this. ]
Yeah. [ Sam's going to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt to leave himself in jeans and his gloves, but even his hands are trembling as he tossed his stuff near Brocade's. He's shaking a little but, he swallows and says. ]
Hey. Promise me something? Other than Gray, don't tell anyone about this? It's gonna be such a bad look for me.
[ Sam licks his lips almost nervously. ]
[Getting this in before the game, but it's probably kind of Too Early For This Shit, booker has no respect]
So. When you challenged me into finding out your secret identity were you hoping I'd find the underworld assassin mafia boss stuff or did you just severely underestimate me.
[ Voice message converted to text. ]
So. When you challenged me into finding out your secret identity were you hoping I'd find the underworld assassin mafia boss stuff or did you just severely underestimate me.
[ Voice message converted to text. ]
Sam, are you around?
Does fish fall into the meat category?
Edited 2024-10-13 18:19 (UTC)
[This is not a text since we live in the same house but anyway someone after Booker has gotten himself coffee he's going to just knock on your door. Presumably it's been at least 12 hours since he was forced to take a nap so.]
[ door opens and he peers around it to see who it is and then open it fully for Booker to come on in if he wants.
Sam is showered and dressed. He'll sit on the bed with a yawn and motion for Booker to take a seat in one of the chairs or whenever else he might like. ]
Good morning.
Sam is showered and dressed. He'll sit on the bed with a yawn and motion for Booker to take a seat in one of the chairs or whenever else he might like. ]
Good morning.
what materials did you use for your zombie summoning again? just the ouija board?
Good evening, Sam.
It seems the holiday season has snuck upon us once again.
Are you currently occupied?
It seems the holiday season has snuck upon us once again.
Are you currently occupied?
{ CW: gore, disturbing imagery (text portion only.) }
[ You hear the sound of vehicles in the distance, of people walking, a society bustling with its every day affairs. You hear children laughing much closer by, but the shadows keep you from being able to identify the surroundings.
A single ball bounces into existence and rolls into view almost ominously. A child follows, calling back to their friends they found the ball before stepping forward into the mouth of the alleyway to retrieve it as it rolls into the darker parts of an already dark alley. It feels like the part of a movie where tragedy will happen, where you instantly feel different by what your mind conjures as the fate of the child. Before they can follow through and enter into the shadows, too, though, the ball comes partially rolling back out as if having knocked into something (perhaps it has been rolled back.)
There is no sound of footsteps as the cloaked figure steps forward out the shadows. The child steps back in curious awe, staring up at them even as they come to crouch down to pick up the escaping ball. With it in their possession, they offer it out to the child as if offering a truce. There is a silent form of communication between the two individuals as the child stares at the one offering the ball.
The trade is clear in their silent exchange. Your ball is here, there no need to travel further.
The child finally smiles gratefully, reaching to take the ball a bit before giggling a thanks and a goodbye as they slip away. a name being called that is unregisterable but clearly from the mouths of their friends becokoning for them to not dally. It's time for them to come back and continue to enjoy playing, that they can't wait around forever. So hurry and bring the ball back and leave what looks like in this alleyway behind him.
The cloaked figure rises to their feet as the child safely wanders away. There's nothing to see here, nothing to worry about. The nightmare that everyone held their breath for never comes; it never existed to begin with.
Once they are long gone, after several almost agonizing seconds of stillness where the figure doesn't move a muscle, they finally lift a hand to their face.
Their actions momentarily force the hood to push back far enough that those familiar with Sam will immediately recognize the blue eyes if nothing else. Lackluster blue depths, a place where emotions go to drown themselves and never resurface. If someone is particularly observant, they may notice the filth that "Sam" wipes from his face. They might notice that he's young, younger than he is in the present despite not really looking that much different— this description feels correct even though logically they don't make much sense in objective description. Perhaps part of the weirdness is that being young and then even younger makes it all that much more (disastrous, depressing, despairing, disappointing, disengaging, dull, disinteresting) in the grand scheme of the vision.
"Sam" turns around now, his hood shifting from his movements again but not quite enough to push it off. If it were a movie, it would be most likely a director's decision so that one could see the character's face well enough while not forgoing the atmosphere of being cover and concealed. He returns into the shadows, and the light adjusts as if the camera does the same.
It is a macabre and unsettling sight. His boots splash into water muddied by blood, the alley floor littered with bodies and parts of bodies. Blood is still fresh, it still runs—a particularly gruesome example of a hunched over body on stacked creates dripping blood into the alleyway cobblestone from areas like the blood accumulating upon the tips of their lifeless fingers as it runs rivers over them. "Sam" does not look, does not flinch, walking through the carnage as if that's all he's ever known. There's neither malice nor satisfaction in his body language, neither disgust nor delight. This scene stirs nothing inside of this man, even though one can't but realize the inconsistency mentally: if they are so far gone from a normal reality that this does not register to them, why would they take the time to deliberately halt their work to ensure a child received their ball without ever setting foot into the shadows? If they can not care for these lives or the heinous scene, how can they gather the consciousness to actively wish to avoid the child stumbling upon their deeds?
The feeling that it isn't to protect themselves from the judgement of the child but to protect the child from the horrors strewn about resonates within the viewers despite nothing factual to lead them to such a conclusion. "Sam" brandishes his blade into sight as he makes his way further through the alley, picking up place and the silhouettes of men up ahead turn with noticing his approach. They don't speak to him but they speak about him—
"The Lord Harbinger's debt collector—"
"They were supposed to kill him! How hard is to take out one Fatui scumbag—! Where are the other men that were supposed to take care of him?"
"Shut up and run, you idiot, unless you're paying our dues with your own blood!"
[ and the vision continues...
( English dub version. )
... Until it ends back into the shadows. ]
[ You hear the sound of vehicles in the distance, of people walking, a society bustling with its every day affairs. You hear children laughing much closer by, but the shadows keep you from being able to identify the surroundings.
A single ball bounces into existence and rolls into view almost ominously. A child follows, calling back to their friends they found the ball before stepping forward into the mouth of the alleyway to retrieve it as it rolls into the darker parts of an already dark alley. It feels like the part of a movie where tragedy will happen, where you instantly feel different by what your mind conjures as the fate of the child. Before they can follow through and enter into the shadows, too, though, the ball comes partially rolling back out as if having knocked into something (perhaps it has been rolled back.)
There is no sound of footsteps as the cloaked figure steps forward out the shadows. The child steps back in curious awe, staring up at them even as they come to crouch down to pick up the escaping ball. With it in their possession, they offer it out to the child as if offering a truce. There is a silent form of communication between the two individuals as the child stares at the one offering the ball.
The trade is clear in their silent exchange. Your ball is here, there no need to travel further.
The child finally smiles gratefully, reaching to take the ball a bit before giggling a thanks and a goodbye as they slip away. a name being called that is unregisterable but clearly from the mouths of their friends becokoning for them to not dally. It's time for them to come back and continue to enjoy playing, that they can't wait around forever. So hurry and bring the ball back and leave what looks like in this alleyway behind him.
The cloaked figure rises to their feet as the child safely wanders away. There's nothing to see here, nothing to worry about. The nightmare that everyone held their breath for never comes; it never existed to begin with.
Once they are long gone, after several almost agonizing seconds of stillness where the figure doesn't move a muscle, they finally lift a hand to their face.
Their actions momentarily force the hood to push back far enough that those familiar with Sam will immediately recognize the blue eyes if nothing else. Lackluster blue depths, a place where emotions go to drown themselves and never resurface. If someone is particularly observant, they may notice the filth that "Sam" wipes from his face. They might notice that he's young, younger than he is in the present despite not really looking that much different— this description feels correct even though logically they don't make much sense in objective description. Perhaps part of the weirdness is that being young and then even younger makes it all that much more (disastrous, depressing, despairing, disappointing, disengaging, dull, disinteresting) in the grand scheme of the vision.
"Sam" turns around now, his hood shifting from his movements again but not quite enough to push it off. If it were a movie, it would be most likely a director's decision so that one could see the character's face well enough while not forgoing the atmosphere of being cover and concealed. He returns into the shadows, and the light adjusts as if the camera does the same.
It is a macabre and unsettling sight. His boots splash into water muddied by blood, the alley floor littered with bodies and parts of bodies. Blood is still fresh, it still runs—a particularly gruesome example of a hunched over body on stacked creates dripping blood into the alleyway cobblestone from areas like the blood accumulating upon the tips of their lifeless fingers as it runs rivers over them. "Sam" does not look, does not flinch, walking through the carnage as if that's all he's ever known. There's neither malice nor satisfaction in his body language, neither disgust nor delight. This scene stirs nothing inside of this man, even though one can't but realize the inconsistency mentally: if they are so far gone from a normal reality that this does not register to them, why would they take the time to deliberately halt their work to ensure a child received their ball without ever setting foot into the shadows? If they can not care for these lives or the heinous scene, how can they gather the consciousness to actively wish to avoid the child stumbling upon their deeds?
The feeling that it isn't to protect themselves from the judgement of the child but to protect the child from the horrors strewn about resonates within the viewers despite nothing factual to lead them to such a conclusion. "Sam" brandishes his blade into sight as he makes his way further through the alley, picking up place and the silhouettes of men up ahead turn with noticing his approach. They don't speak to him but they speak about him—
"The Lord Harbinger's debt collector—"
"They were supposed to kill him! How hard is to take out one Fatui scumbag—! Where are the other men that were supposed to take care of him?"
"Shut up and run, you idiot, unless you're paying our dues with your own blood!"
[ and the vision continues...
( English dub version. )
... Until it ends back into the shadows. ]
Edited 2025-01-06 20:27 (UTC)
Thank you. For sending them.
[Whistling quietly as he walks to the lounge, the hallways seemingly clear this late at night]
[ as promised, Gray delivers his write-up of the Sirens' encounter to him: ]
It was me, Yue, Lala, Moray, Jewel, Jem, and Friday. We went in our special room and up stairs and found a floor of water. There was a siren in there, Melody, who was looking for her music box. We all rightly assumed it was the music box that Booker won during the auction and gave to Jewel. She wanted it because "one of her voices" was in there. Jewel gave it to her and she did something to it to make it even prettier and gave it back to him.
We learned the following from her:
- Box had her voice; she has multiple. She "gives away her melodies."
- Jeno made the box
- She liked Jeno a hell of a lot and willingly gave him her voice. She liked Jeno the most.
- "Jeno is the one always stuck underneath the rain."
- When asked about the Missing, she knew nothing. Only knew about the found (the ones the ocean has found and given back). She does not sing for them.
- "If Jeno hears a song, someone must be singing the song from the Ocean. But it is not me. Not for those that the Ocean found."
- Melody hates Emily. She believes Emily ate Jeno. It ain't clear if Emily is also a siren or not.
- Jeno is "gone now." He disappeared.
- Jeno was afraid of water. Always stopped on the beach and cried 'cause they couldn't get closer. Melody claims the water bullied Jeno.
- She will super eat the shit outta anyone who makes us sad if we bring 'em to her.
Before she left, she asked us to think about what emotion would be left behind if the ocean swallowed our most important person.
Cute kid! Fucked up though.
It was me, Yue, Lala, Moray, Jewel, Jem, and Friday. We went in our special room and up stairs and found a floor of water. There was a siren in there, Melody, who was looking for her music box. We all rightly assumed it was the music box that Booker won during the auction and gave to Jewel. She wanted it because "one of her voices" was in there. Jewel gave it to her and she did something to it to make it even prettier and gave it back to him.
We learned the following from her:
- Box had her voice; she has multiple. She "gives away her melodies."
- Jeno made the box
- She liked Jeno a hell of a lot and willingly gave him her voice. She liked Jeno the most.
- "Jeno is the one always stuck underneath the rain."
- When asked about the Missing, she knew nothing. Only knew about the found (the ones the ocean has found and given back). She does not sing for them.
- "If Jeno hears a song, someone must be singing the song from the Ocean. But it is not me. Not for those that the Ocean found."
- Melody hates Emily. She believes Emily ate Jeno. It ain't clear if Emily is also a siren or not.
- Jeno is "gone now." He disappeared.
- Jeno was afraid of water. Always stopped on the beach and cried 'cause they couldn't get closer. Melody claims the water bullied Jeno.
- She will super eat the shit outta anyone who makes us sad if we bring 'em to her.
Before she left, she asked us to think about what emotion would be left behind if the ocean swallowed our most important person.
Cute kid! Fucked up though.
[ anything 3-4 hours after the end of PPP to the morning of Day 248 will not be responded to by Sam. Duran has his phone (both his phones), and will respond if your character wants a response. Any messages left ~ 6:30am Day 47 - 7am Day 48 should be re-sent to get a reply from Sam, as Duran will delete them.
Regardless of if Duran responds or not, your character will receive an error message like it didn't go through for their convenience. Sam is nowhere to be found unless you go find Duran. ]
Regardless of if Duran responds or not, your character will receive an error message like it didn't go through for their convenience. Sam is nowhere to be found unless you go find Duran. ]
Edited 2025-03-04 18:09 (UTC)
Hey I'm at Cirrus, but I don't see you. Are you in your room?
okay this is about as public as i can make it bc i dont THINK the ticketmaster wants the showmaster knowin this shit
anyway the prize was basically gettin a sneak peak at some shit we will get soon. Soon with a capital S. in the visions, some of us have powers. when i was with her, i actually felt those powers just for a moment. apparently all of us will be able to reach that power if we got it soon.
which is real fuckin good bc i know i got a healing ability there. fuckin please
if you got questions i will try to answer them. obviously keep this on the dl but share with whoever idgaf
anyway the prize was basically gettin a sneak peak at some shit we will get soon. Soon with a capital S. in the visions, some of us have powers. when i was with her, i actually felt those powers just for a moment. apparently all of us will be able to reach that power if we got it soon.
which is real fuckin good bc i know i got a healing ability there. fuckin please
if you got questions i will try to answer them. obviously keep this on the dl but share with whoever idgaf
Edited 2025-03-29 05:20 (UTC)
Thanks for the heads-up.
That would be a boon to get!
btw let me come annoy you when you're back on land for drinks and wings once in a while. I'm taking Cade already, too, so you and Ore gotta also come for the experience.
That would be a boon to get!
btw let me come annoy you when you're back on land for drinks and wings once in a while. I'm taking Cade already, too, so you and Ore gotta also come for the experience.
Page 1 of 2