Gonna Get A Good Grade In Therapy [Open]

[restingslasherface]

Who: "Slasher Face" Jean and YOU
What: General stuff between and around events; prompts may update as more fire
When: September
Where: Jean's apartment, the library, Around (search parties)
Warnings: Discussions of & flashbacks to violence are likely, ongoing struggles with trauma

Sick Leave [Jean's Apartment]

The few days immediately after the parade, Jean has to take off work at the library; conflicting duties, need to help with the search parties and also rest up, you know how it is. You might catch them there of a morning, or an evening as the sun is setting, washing out that bloodstained wolf suit or sitting out front working nicks out of their claymore while they sharpen it. They seem to have a lot on their mind.

This prompt is also very open for other wildcards at their home.

You Are Being Rescued, Do Not Resist [Search Parties]

Jean cleans up their own messes, and joins the search parties for the reviving dead after the parade. That's it, that's the prompt, tag into it if you'd like to chat with Jean while they're searching, if you'd like to be found by them, whatever, I've had one cup of coffee and there's only so much prettying up of this idea I'm about to do. Y'all are lucky I worked in the meta comedy of complaining about the prompt that I myself have written and was under no compulsion to include.

Back To The Grind [Library]

When Jean does return to their day job, they're oddly subdued. No manic bouncing, no popping out from behind corners. A lot of yes ma'am, no ma'am, that edition is currently check out ma'am and then getting right back to work. But a regular patron - or a friend to Jean, perhaps - may notice a different slight change in habits. On their breaks, and indeed Around - when they're sitting on benches in town, out for coffee, in their apartment if you're over - Jean's started checking out fiction books for the first time. They're a fast reader, tearing through novels over the course of a day and night, and though most of their selections remain information about the island and this world a pattern emerges in their entertainment selection. A plurality of their choices are romance; all of their selections prominently feature Women That Can Kill You, or were chosen because Jean thought they'd feature such.

Mind you, it's still Jean.

There's yet another notebook. They are taking notes in their tiny handwriting. Very. In-depth. Notes.

Wildcard

Fuck me up

Comments

[restingslasherface]

"Sure the Library had fiction," how are they pronouncing that capital letter, "but that wasn't my Floor. I worked the Floor of Language, under Patron Librarian Gebura! The Floor of Literature was lower down, under Patron Librarian Hod! And I never had a lot of time to read for fun anyway..."

Something pained flickers across Jean's face, so, so fast, the briefest moment of the professional mask slipping and a distant horror creeping over them before the mask is back where it belongs.

Keep smiling, Jean.

"...But now I'm catching up! I expected more pictures but, hahahaha, hahaha, I guess I'm used to company literature, diagram for everything! A lot of these seem to have been imported in an earlier time, guess that makes sense though. Whole world of people to write books..."

[batteryacid]

Eddie blinks at the information that sirens actually exist in this new world. When Jean goes inside their home, he shakes his head and mutters, "Fucking of course..."

The glowing(?) paper -- no, there's no substance underneath the light Light -- is also strange and new to Eddie. Without his glasses he sees it more like a fuzzy-edged lozenge until Jean wobbles it. Weirdly, it snaps into focus for a second when Eddie does-not-hear the notsound of it.

"Okay... I can be quiet," Eddie replies. He's still pretty lost, but has gathered that there will be a demonstration and/or explanation forthcoming.

[lordoftheozarks]

He catches that flicker and his eyes narrow subtly. What was that Jean, a moment of independent thought?

That squint leaves his eyes as he purposefully softens his expression. Even his voice takes on a sympathetic tenor, tinged with nostalgia. "You know, I have been alive for a very, very long time. I can remember eras when reading and writing were only learned and practiced by very few, and when even the paper on which texts were written was a scarce and precious resource. I remembering watching that change. And I remember how the world changed because of it. How do you think it changed, Jean?"

[restingslasherface]

Jean settles down, sitting cross-legged and comfy, and starts reading the Page. It is not a process unrelated to language, but its relationship to actual language is distant at best; their mouth moves silently, but the shape of the words on their lips is no shape, has no form.

How long does it take to read one Page? If this were paper, no matter how densely written, it should have been over minutes ago. And yet Jean reads, and reads, and reads, without turning the Page over or moving their body. The Light quivers, shakes, trembles -

- shatters, into scraps and ashes, as if from a burning library -

And settles on Jean's skin. Its glow conceals them, suggests only the barest outline of them, but when it fades Jean is sitting there as one of Marrow Island's sirens, in a comfortable blue dress, flexing her claws and smiling with - well, not sharper teeth, but at least teeth that are naturally sharp rather than whatever fucking happened to Jean's usual mouth.

"Behold! I'm a girl now."

The narration would like to note here that if anything on Jean's body changed it's not currently available to the public. Evidence of girlhood here includes but is limited to:

- She's wearing a dress

[restingslasherface]

Erik, you now have Jean's Full Attention. In all senses but the literal you can see the math equations floating around their head, hear the tick-tick-tick of the clockwork behind their eyes. They're Concentrating on this idea with the sort of gravity normally reserved for small children and mountain gorillas.

"...Well. I'm not a student of History and that was Malkuth's Floor, but I'd guess an explosion of extelligence and information retention. Inventions and techniques could be recorded, helping to ablate the loss of knowledge and need for re-invention that the deaths of their creators or masters might represent. Bookkeeping gets easier, a massive boon for administration...gosh, I guess that would have been a requirement for the rise of corporations or whatever immediately preceded them, they can't have just emerged ex nihilo, hahahhaha, nothing does that. Increased administration means megaconstructions become so much easier since you can organize labor efficiently - generously assuming managerial competence, of course." Big smile! Jean's having fun with this thought exercise. "And if everyone can read that opens up new industries for books! Like these! A whole new market opened up for entertainment, education, one that needs workers on every level...wow..."

They look down at the smut they're taking notes about. "...This really changed the world, huh. Neat!"

Resistance is Futile

[itsjustabaddream]

When Neil wakes from his resurrection, he is in a minecart covered in soot from the coal, which is positioned outside the mine and next to the train station. Thankfully, there was no mining being done, as businesses remained closed for two days after the Parade for obvious reasons. But still, this was no place to rest.

Coughing, Neil fumbled, attempting to get out of the cart, but unable to do so on his own, at least till he recovered a little bit more. My, wouldn't it be convenient timing if someone were coming along just now!

[restingslasherface]

"I've got one!" Jean calls out to the rest of the search party. They approach cautious, unarmed, very not wearing that suit, hands up, and -

"- Oh, it's Doctor West," Jean says, surprised when they really should not be. He did die, after all...

"You did very well back there, Doctor."

[batteryacid]

Eddie watches the process in silence as asked. It's outside of his experience and he's not sure what to say anyway.

But when Jean says "I'm a girl now!" Eddie squints to focus his eyes and take in the difference. What difference there is.

"I see. And this process... does it give you siren powers, too?" Eddie asks. (Because if all it does is change appearance and slap a dress on you, there's makeup and clothing for that. So he assumes there's something special about the magic reading material.)

[itsjustabaddream]

Neil splutters, trying again to sit up. "Did I...? I can hardly remember, just bits and pieces... Oh, my head." He flops back down, delirious and slurring his words a bit. Rough rez. "And my back. Would you mind helping me up?"

[restingslasherface]

"Not all of them! I can't utilize their memetic attack, which is both a relief and a bother. On the one hand, no worries about my fellows going 'oh there goes Jean, she can hypnotize me', on the other hand, no hypnotizing monsters. But..."

Jean flexes her hands, where the siren's claws are very much present.

"The strengths and weaknesses of this body are also mine! I can swim very well and also breathe water, which is handy since, hahahaha, normally I can't swim...at all..."

[restingslasherface]

Jean offers their hand without hesitation. "Don't misunderstand me, that memetic attack took you down pretty hard, but I haven't had a fight that decent here since..."

"...Ever, actually, you're the watermark."

Can't stress enough that they're trying to say this as a compliment.

[itsjustabaddream]

"Well, I'm glad I could impress," he says with a tired laugh, hoisting himself out of the cart at last. "But I can hardly take all the credit. I was, after all, possessed by a great evil."

Neil dusts himself off for a moment before sighing at the futility of trying to get caked on coal dust out of his clothes with just his hands. "I trust you survived the day, then?"

[restingslasherface]

"Yes! It could have been worse, but it could have been a lot better too. The lack of information going in..." Jean frowns. They are not happy about that even a little. "But I may have exciting news for you. I acquired some information in the aftermath that might go some way to stopping this from happening again."

"...I would like to make that a priority."

[batteryacid]

"I see. Although hypnotizing monsters would be useful, it seems like you've got a handle on the skills it does give you..."

Eddie considers for a moment, then offers, "If someone has a pool, or if there's a lake around here, that might be a good way to start learning to swim. And I'd help teach you in your... regular form, if you like."

[restingslasherface]

"...Well there's one lake I know of but you really need to not go there. Everyone needs to not go there until we figure out how to kill it. It is not a good lake. That lake is fucked up even by my standards, hahaha, ha, haaa, ha...ha...don't go to the lake."

[batteryacid]

"Okay, got it. Avoid the lake."

[restingslasherface]

"...The beach?" Jean offers, a bit shyly. "The sirens aren't a problem any more for me."

[batteryacid]

"If you know what rip currents look like -- so you know what to avoid -- then the beach could be doable." Eddie sighs, "And if the river was safer... free from monsters, I mean... I'd suggest that. But the beach may be the best option we have."

God I'm SO SORRY BUT

[restingslasherface]

"I don't! This is the first time in my life I've seen natural water!"

[batteryacid]

"Well..." Eddie says, with some resignation, "maybe the library has a book with pictures in it. Or drawings, at least."

He scratches the back of his neck. "It's just that rip currents are very strong and can pull you out into deep water. A regular guy like me wouldn't be able to save you from it -- and in your base form, you'd probably drown."

Heading for a wrap?

[restingslasherface]

"Likely! It's supposed to be a very unpleasant way to die!" Jean pauses. "I should share my notes on the local creatures. You're far from help at the farm, knowledge could make the difference."

[batteryacid]

"Yes. Yes, it is." The way that Eddie says that suggests personal experience.

"I appreciate that, Agent Jean. Once I get my glasses back, or a replacement pair, I'd be honored to read your notes." He smiles, and purposely uses a gendered form of address to acknowledge her pronoun shift while a siren. "As it is, ma'am, I need to get back to the farm and get some work done. I hope you have a good rest of your day."

[[ OOC: I think the wrap shall be yours. Thanks for the thread! ]]

[lordoftheozarks]

That answer is a... surprisingly enlightened one. Erik was expecting something shallow or superficial, not this. This is somehow more concerning. Jean has the capacity for this sort of analysis and, still, they seem staunchly loyal to the overbearing system they were trained into. Something about that niggles uncomfortably at the back of Erik's conscience. He ignores that.

"Indeed. The world was never the same. But one consequence of such record-keeping and information-sharing capabilities is that it became harder to control a populace who could learn things for themselves--who could think for themselves. Ideas are powerful, are they not? What if people began to believe that they should be allowed free and total access to that wealth of knowledge? I don't think your corporations would be so keen on that. It doesn't seem so, from how you have described things."

[restingslasherface]

There is a shift in Jean's demeanor.

They are no longer as they are, as they've been. The manic light in their eyes fades, and their smile dies. Their boundless energy coils, and tenses.

They are no longer as they are.

"Let me tell you a story."

Low, hard, fast, words clear and precise and made of pain.

"There was an army, and its name was Ruin. Its weapons spat in the face of Humanity and divinity alike, and knew no equal. Horrors that could not be bowed to this army, and lent it their strength. Its soldiers could never die, and not once did they taste defeat. Scum, horror, corporation, gods, all fell before it in their multitudes, and from their despair did the army whose name was Ruin forge weapons and armor even more terrible than ever known. It stole the Light of its conquests and drank their knowledge, learning many forbidden secrets, until finally only one for remained. The Head of the City did not send an army. It did not send horrors that cannot be. It sent an observer, an arbiter, and an enforcer, and with a wave of its hand the Head broke Ruin, and shattered it, and said: begone. And Ruin was gone from the City, and knew defeat."

"The pen is nothing to the sword."

[lordoftheozarks]

He feels a real pang of regret watching the light recede from their eyes, watching them change right there on the spot. Though, in hindsight, he should have expected this.

"Is this a true story, Jean, or a legend?"