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ph_logs2023-07-30 01:09 pm
restingslasherface) wrote in ph_logs2023-07-30 01:09 pm
Don't You Want...
Who: "Slasher Face" Jean and YOU
What: Catch-All & Founding CR! Come get your nugget
When: Early <-> Mid August
Where: Places, mayhaps even locations (check prompts)
Warnings: Jean's out of a cyberpunk horror setting and they think everything in it is Normal so, y'know, casually horrifying shit coming out of their mouth including but not limited to violence, death, organ theft (no really), descriptions or potentially memory shares of mental attacks, and the most brutal corporate exploitation you could ever ask for.
Zwei Association [Around Town]
Here's the thing about Jean: they like people. Here's the other thing about Jean: they don't know that. It's not that they think of themselves as disliking people, exactly, it's that they think they've adopted the City's cool detachment to keep you from Getting Hurt, and, well, they haven't. Y'all might have noticed. But the handy thing about liking people is they've got a pretty good eye for who, like them, does not belong here. The clients have little habits and cultural signs, things they just subconsciously or conspicuously do that the other hires don't, to say nothing of the easy asks like that giant dude in the diving suit.
When you're not actively working at your job you may find yourself approached by Jean, notebook in hand, toothy smile on their face. They explain that they're looking to organize information on the available 'talent pool' to provide to one 'Madam Princess Zelda', both to coordinate information gathered on the task here and in case of emergency ("Disaster planning is good planning!"). Are you willing to talk?
Shi Association [Shops]
After collapsing during the initial festival planning, Jean is trying to take breaks. They are not good at this, but they're better than they were by main force of imagining what their old supervisor would say to their internal complaints about being tired or overworked. Thank the god of your choice that said former supervisor was a good and caring person. Increasingly, those breaks drift towards the various shops. Jean is a window shopper, is the problem. Some of it is just that the technology here is unfamiliar in ways that can be unhelpful, just off what they're expecting enough to cause a problem (to wit: they've never made coffee without a coffee machine, leading to frowning worry outside the general store trying to figure out which of these things Makes The Fucking Coffee, How), but the tailor might be Jean at their most anxious. They're still in the outfit they arrived in, carefully washed every single day, and they really would like to fix this...
...But something about what they're looking at doesn't sit right with them, and it's making them miserable.
Liu Association [Night]
There's an injunction not to be outside at night. Jean wants to know why, and unfortunately for the mods reading this narration that might mean getting a bunch of annoying questions. For the first few nights they stay up observing the streets of the town through their window and noting anything they can observe, though their shit-ass night vision soon indicates to them that this will need to be hands-on.
If you're interested, your character may have been asked to be a lookout for the next phase: Jean, clad in her siren Page and smeared with smoke, leaves, and soil to blend into the colors of night on the town, lurks behind cover after dark, gently flexing her claws. The people here live in fear of these things, and Jean has been hired to lift that fear from them, show them that wins are possible, that being under Jean's aegis places them beside her and not beneath her.
Madam Princess Zelda said Jean had a hard life, and thinking about that still hurts Jean in ways she can't quite define to herself. But if that's true, there's still, hahaha, a silver lining. The beasts of this place are used to frightened and helpless prey, but that's not Jean.
She's a monster too.
Floor of Language
Jean works at the library! Find them here during operating hours, if you like.
What: Catch-All & Founding CR! Come get your nugget
When: Early <-> Mid August
Where: Places, mayhaps even locations (check prompts)
Warnings: Jean's out of a cyberpunk horror setting and they think everything in it is Normal so, y'know, casually horrifying shit coming out of their mouth including but not limited to violence, death, organ theft (no really), descriptions or potentially memory shares of mental attacks, and the most brutal corporate exploitation you could ever ask for.
Zwei Association [Around Town]
Here's the thing about Jean: they like people. Here's the other thing about Jean: they don't know that. It's not that they think of themselves as disliking people, exactly, it's that they think they've adopted the City's cool detachment to keep you from Getting Hurt, and, well, they haven't. Y'all might have noticed. But the handy thing about liking people is they've got a pretty good eye for who, like them, does not belong here. The clients have little habits and cultural signs, things they just subconsciously or conspicuously do that the other hires don't, to say nothing of the easy asks like that giant dude in the diving suit.
When you're not actively working at your job you may find yourself approached by Jean, notebook in hand, toothy smile on their face. They explain that they're looking to organize information on the available 'talent pool' to provide to one 'Madam Princess Zelda', both to coordinate information gathered on the task here and in case of emergency ("Disaster planning is good planning!"). Are you willing to talk?
Shi Association [Shops]
After collapsing during the initial festival planning, Jean is trying to take breaks. They are not good at this, but they're better than they were by main force of imagining what their old supervisor would say to their internal complaints about being tired or overworked. Thank the god of your choice that said former supervisor was a good and caring person. Increasingly, those breaks drift towards the various shops. Jean is a window shopper, is the problem. Some of it is just that the technology here is unfamiliar in ways that can be unhelpful, just off what they're expecting enough to cause a problem (to wit: they've never made coffee without a coffee machine, leading to frowning worry outside the general store trying to figure out which of these things Makes The Fucking Coffee, How), but the tailor might be Jean at their most anxious. They're still in the outfit they arrived in, carefully washed every single day, and they really would like to fix this...
...But something about what they're looking at doesn't sit right with them, and it's making them miserable.
Liu Association [Night]
There's an injunction not to be outside at night. Jean wants to know why, and unfortunately for the mods reading this narration that might mean getting a bunch of annoying questions. For the first few nights they stay up observing the streets of the town through their window and noting anything they can observe, though their shit-ass night vision soon indicates to them that this will need to be hands-on.
If you're interested, your character may have been asked to be a lookout for the next phase: Jean, clad in her siren Page and smeared with smoke, leaves, and soil to blend into the colors of night on the town, lurks behind cover after dark, gently flexing her claws. The people here live in fear of these things, and Jean has been hired to lift that fear from them, show them that wins are possible, that being under Jean's aegis places them beside her and not beneath her.
Madam Princess Zelda said Jean had a hard life, and thinking about that still hurts Jean in ways she can't quite define to herself. But if that's true, there's still, hahaha, a silver lining. The beasts of this place are used to frightened and helpless prey, but that's not Jean.
She's a monster too.
Floor of Language
Jean works at the library! Find them here during operating hours, if you like.
Shops
Someone is used to moving almost silently--and given that the redhead standing about a half step back and to the left of the little individual is sitting on the damn uncomfortable side of seven feet tall, that's quite a feat.
However, despite his dour expression, his demeanor is otherwise easygoing, borderline friendly: relaxed stance, weight on one leg, arms up just to finish pulling his long hair back off his neck because he forgot how fucking annoying it got when he let it get this long as a living man...
"Reckon you got the opposite problem I do, at your size." the Shade muses. "Still the same, though: if you're too damn big or too damn small, you're gonna play hell to find anything decent what ain't custom made. Already tryin' to figger out how much I'm gonna let 'em fleece me for to get some halfway decent boots, much less pants ain't up above my goddamn knees."
no subject
Jean shakes their head and turns, trying on a polite smile. The effect is...not good, but it's earnest at least. "Nice to meet you! Agent Jean, here to help! Well. Not right now. Right now I'm on break! But generally, here to help!"
no subject
It's not unkind or mocking--it's not even wholly amused. It's the quiet, unexpected chuckle of simple pleasure because this little critter ain't so different from the imps around the Vale, right down to the stilted way of talking. Imps don't get anywhere near Heaven, they get treated like garbage in Hell, but they do okay for themselves around various cities in Purgatory like Gehenna. The ones in Limbo, where the Vale was carved, make their home there because they hear tell of the Shade, and he hardly minds. They're sharp as tacks, violent as hell, and when treated fairly pass for loyal easy.
So he hunkers down into a crouch to get closer to the critter's level--Jean, this one's got a name--and offers his hand to shake.
"Well, knowin' I can catch you when you ain't on break? Big help, so much obliged. You can call me the Shade if you're feelin' formal, or plain ol' Joe if you prefer to be friendly. Pleased to meet ya--though I'd advise 'gainst tradin' any human livers 'round here. Way I hear, you ain't gonna find any goin' free off the dead."
no subject
Their manners catch up to them in a minute here, and they shake the Shade's hand with enthusiasm, looking just a lil' embarrassed. "Jean, nice to meet you! My apologies for being a downer, I'm currently very frustrated! The fashions here seem...very gendered, and unfortunately I am not a tailor! Yet!"
CW: outdated offensive language
"Gendered, huh?" the Shade muses aloud, absently scratching his bearded chin. He forgot how things itch for the living, and he's seriously considering shaving the whole damn thing off.
Then again, don't it itch worse when the five o'clock shadow rolls 'round? Hell...
"Well, I ain't got much experience with them spaces between--when I was alive that first time, blacksmith's son was a pansy, silversmith's daughter was all woman but shot the last dressmaker her momma called in on her behalf." he admits. "Had naught in common with either of 'em but being unwelcome in polite company, but some of the finest folks I knew. Point bein', seein' as how I'm a man what grew up 'longside a woman, and had friends who favored opposite sides of that coin, I don't know much 'bout finding that middle road."
He hesitates, then smirks.
"But when you're big as I am, and the nearest decent tailor what'll spare the fabric for a lummox like me is in fuckin' Houston, you get real good at fixin' up your shit, real quick--to say nothing of my trade. Worked as an undertaker, so wasn't strange having to rustle up a shroud for a picky spirit or fixing up something so I can dress a body halfway decent. So...maybe you find something what almost works, and I could help you make it a little less manly or feminine as the case may be."
no subject
Beat the sequel.
"Metaphorically! I'm employed there."
no subject
The kid's so damn eager, though, bless 'em...ah, hell.
Shrugging, the Shade reaches out to pat Jean on the shoulder, heavy but with a clear control of the strength in his big hand.
"You got yourself a deal, little imp. I'll call on you if I need any information, and you can come 'round whenever you like for some lessons with the ol' needle and thread. I'm at the Oak & Iron right now, but when I line up steady work 'n lodgings I'll show you where to find me."
no subject
Jean's manic energy does down maybe half a notch as they cue up to ask a question they feel somewhat embarrassed about. "If you don't mind me asking though...what's an undertaker?"
Shade, my man, I have some bad news for you about the state of funeral rites in the City.
no subject
Besides, there's clearly more important matters to attend to.
"Undertaker? Well, maybe it's not common where you come from--it's outdated where I come from, but it's what they called the trade when I lived." he replies. "Uh...undertaker's a mortician. Job's got lotsa little bits 'n bobs, but main purpose is to care for the dead. What do they call it where you come from?"
By tradition I declare: damn OCs and their one-liners
...THIS THREAD IS NOW DIAMONDS.
His mouth opens. Closes, then opens again.
"There's...folks who choose to let some go when they die, but the rest still gets proper care." he replies slowly. "Laid to rest, however they wish to be. Is--is that what you mean?..."
no subject
Their face is reddening very slowly.
no subject
The Shade feels a swell of something he thinks might be horror, but he doesn't let it show. Instead, he shakes his head at the creeping blush crawling up Jean's face.
"Now, none of that." he admonishes gently. "If there's one thing I know, it's death, and all manner of people deal with it all manner of ways. The disposition of the dead's just as varied, and I ain't gonna judge. What horrifies me for you's just plain normal."
The Shade pauses for a breath.
"That said...if you'd like to learn more 'bout how others manage the dead? Given that's my trade, I'd be real pleased to show ya. Then, if that suits you, you could maybe take it back home with you."
no subject
There is not, Jean is in steampunk land, no heart transplants for them.