[closed] hey get your knives out

[prozaic]

WHO: Shalem + others
WHERE: Mostly in the Gallows, but there's something happening in Mirth too.
WHEN: Event time!
WHAT: Shalem is in jail, then he's not. Then he needs to make some money.
WARNINGS: Shalem's Shadow amplifying his bloodlust, some PTSD, lots of poetic waxing about dark things. More tba

[ a catch-all for people i've plotted with. feel free to respond to my plotting comment if you'd like a thread! ]

Comments

@kokomi (prison)

[prozaic]

[for the first time in a long time, shalem is making music, humming softly to himself. the prison has gotten to his head, the quiet already too much for him to bear, and the echoes of other prisoners when they decide to make noise has made it far, far more difficult for him to stave off his ever-present fear and paranoia. thus he resorts to a method he has not done in a long time, and does not want to do, just so he's not stewing in the quiet with only his spiraling thoughts for company.

it has, unfortunately, invited his shadow to whisper as well, trying to weaken his already weak mind. it tells him there's quite a bit of blood to spill here, all he needs to do is get a guard to let him out... and then, what is he staying idle in here for? is he here for punishment for what he did last month, or to protect others from him?

an unknown sound interrupts him, and he focuses enough to understand that they're footsteps. shalem looks up from where he's sat down against the wall, and squints, trying to see through the bars.]

Is that... a saviour come to help this sinner?

[his voice is soft and breathy, but not like someone who hasn't been speaking for a while. he's just trying to hold something back, but it's... quite tiring, really. he's been fighting to keep himself sane for a while now, and he's lost sense of time.]

@leaks (mirth)

[prozaic]

[if the shadows underneath shalem's eyes are darker... well, he can't apply anything to cover them up, he just has to rely on the natural purple liner on his skin. if leaks ever asks if he's okay... he's fine, completely fine! no problems at all...!

work keeps his hands and mind busy at least, as they look through the darkened theatre rooms for the missing movies. shalem, for his part, is assuming that they're clearly-labeled cds, complete with covers.]

What were the titles of the movies we need to find, again? Do you remember?

[dissonyance]

[ is he fine? not much gets past leaks; whether it's in his tone, how he stands, his expressions, or even the faintest lines of something that could be exhaustion below those eyes of shalem's... leaks will notice. it's whether he says anything that's more the question.

right now? he stays silent, pulls his phone out and taps on the screen a few times. ]

Let me see. The titles I wrote down... 'Paranormal Activity', 'The Blair Witch Project', 'It', 'The Ring', and 'Cargo'.

[ one point to leaks for taking notes. ]

But as far as I am concerned, we should not spend too much time here. Let us try this room first.

[ the one to their left. there doesn't seem to be any sounds coming from it. ]

[prozaic]

Such strange titles... [which makes them all the more intriguing. what is this "it"? what makes this ring so scary? what is a blair witch? he would like to watch them for himself, honestly.]

Go ahead-- I shall give this room an initial sweep first, then join you.

[then he reaches out and pats leaks on the shoulder, giving him a smile.]

[dissonyance]

Indeed...

[ he turns his head slightly at the touch to his shoulder. if it were anyone else, he might pull away. instead? leaks simply accepts it. it's a gesture of comfort. nothing malicious behind it. ]

... do not take long.

[ the magician slips into the other room. while it's silent, something is already being projected. two cats, sitting on a fence together: one orange, one black. their tails intwined, staring up at the moon.

leaks stares. he doesn't move. ]

[prozaic]

[leaks won't hear anything from the room shalem is in except for the sounds of boxes and other assorted paraphernalia being moved-- the pythia is just that silent, from his breathing to his footsteps.

he's still silent when he joins leaks into the room... and breaks that silence when he sees his companion frozen.]

Leaks...? [he sees two cats on the screen, but what does it mean?

shalem strides forward, placing a gentle hand on the man's elbow.]

[dissonyance]

[ the orange cat slowly fades from sight, while the black cat is left alone. the white backdrop darkens and goes dark, leaving only bright red eyes shining in the darkness before fading away as well.

but leaks doesn't move from the touch, stiffening slightly. ]

I am... fine.

[ looking at shalem, he lets out a sigh. ]

I do not know what was playing. Still, I believe it is best we find what we need and leave immediately.

@set (uwu)

[prozaic]

Ah... it's you. [set, was it...? the maybe-god who has such a strong personality that shalem simply went along with it. still, he harbours no ill-will towards the man, and in fact... it's quite nice, being around someone like that. feels like being back in rhodes island.

he could simply greet and then get back to his business, but shalem feels quite terrible for how he tricked the man before. he has to set the record straight and make things right for such a lie. the guilt is eating him up inside.]

Actually, I'm glad we met today. Shall we venture somewhere to have a talk? I would... like to have a nice long one with you. Please. [then he offers set his hand to hold onto, almost like a gentleman would.]

[redsoil]

Naturally. I told you that I would do something for you, and I have come to deliver.

[ It is with a handwritten document on his person that he meets with Shalem, positively bristling with repressed - delight? perhaps it is delight that he feels, to be able to do something for someone. It feels good, in a sense, to provide for others; that is the figurehead in him, the family man, the latent divine desire that he has repressed for so long until he was sick throughout. The god of war's greatest joy was not the slaughter of thousands, nor the endless flow of blood upon the sand, but his ability to be powerful, protective of his own. Things he'd long since forgotten or abandoned, and now he aims to recapture them. Or, at least to recover them, fragile and brittle as they are.

Though Shalem offers his hand, and it is a very polite gesture, Set eases the document into those outstretched fingers instead, and forgoes the contact. ]

Take this first. This is the teacher I found for you, [ he announces, bold-as-you like. ]

Are you -- do you wish to decline the lessons?

[prozaic]

Oh... [damn it, set is so kind. now shalem feels even more terrible, holding the document in his hand and giving it a skim. then he handles it with both hands, and closes his eyes-- perhaps it's evident how deeply shalem feels for his deception.

when he opens his eyes again, he folds the paper neatly, and tucks it into a pocket. he's going to take care of it.

then he offers his hand to set again.]

Yes. I'm afraid I must-- but not for the reasons you might think. That is to say... this is what I wanted to speak to you about, but you beat me to it.

[shalem takes a deep breath.]

I was raised in a stage troupe, this is true. But I was raised to be their actors, once upon a time... and nowadays, singing brings back bad memories. I apologize for this deception.

1/2

[redsoil]

[ Oh.

Well, now he feels the fool!! ]

[redsoil]

You lied --

[ Truly, he is a god that was not built to comprehend deception. It isn't that he is a trusting fool, but that - no, that he trusts too readily. Knowing that trust had blinded him to his own family's hearts and minds, one might think he'd learned his lesson, but instead, here he stands once more. This time, before Shalem, who tells him in no uncertain terms that he deceived Set.

Set looks to where Shalem has tucked away the information regarding a singing tutor, as though he had expected it to be thrown aside. Perhaps back in his face, with mocking laughter, and his expression is -- wholly young. There is an injury in his heart, soft and tender as it is, that bleeds into the red of his eyes and the way he slowly averts them. The way his posture lessens, achingly subdued. The former excitement rapidly vanishes. ]

I see. It isn't that you couldn't sing, but that you didn't wish to.

[ That's not AS bad, really. ]

It's all right. [ He'll accept his folly. ] I was pressuring you, after all.

[prozaic]

[this is one of the outcomes he did not want, and shalem feels terrible. guilty. he's always been disappointing people, hasn't he? from his training, to his botched debut, and even as an operator. and it's persisted all the way into his afterlife.]

Let me make it up to you. [he's insistent on it, reaching out to hold onto set's elbows, a gentle hold, a gentle pressure.]

Please. You've gone out of this way to help a liar, let me make it up to you.

I shall sing, even.

[redsoil]

[ Set's expression folds a little, nothing about it manufactured - though he holds himself apart, distant in his shame. He'd believed it, of course. That Shalem was being harassed by individuals because he was someone who was pretty, handsome, with clever hands and a calm smile that would look so good on the stage. And he'd told such a good story, about how he'd always dreamed of singing and acting.

Set feels ashamed, for believing in it so readily. He curls his arms away, firm in his desire to not be touched; his skin crawls at the thought of it. He does not leave, however, willing to still be there. ]

Why do you think you have anything to make up for?

[ Neither mortals nor gods think that of Set. ]

You needn't do something you're not comfortable with, Shalem. I'm not angry with you. And I'm not so unaware of my forcefulness as to not understand that, like those who were trying to drag you onto stage, I was in the wrong.

[ Finally, he points to the space where Shalem had hidden away the letter of invitation that had been procured for him. ]

Am I to understand that you wish to avoid the stage, then?

@d (library)

[prozaic]

[the library has always been a place of fascination for shalem because of what it holds, but delving deeper now holds even more for him to sink his teeth into. metaphorically of course. it's never good for anyone to get shalem's fangs in them.

the animated skeletons though... they're so cute, shalem almost wants to bite them. almost. but he does give each skull he comes across a pat, even the group with a key-- and he gives those extra pats once he's extracted the key from their hold. though he quickly forgets about the key and finding a place to use it when he sees the books. so many! just lying around!

in fact, he forgets he has a companion, with the way he crouches down to pick up the books and flip through their pages, reading with intent.]

Hmm, hunting tips have never been useless... though I doubt there's any need to assassinate a blue blood... [not that he's so impressed about the contents of that, some of these are wholly inaccurate and quite unrealistic. shalem knows better.] Ah... sex fantasy, of course...

[damnpire]

[Already, Shalem is at it. Unfortunately, he will not pet the skellies even though I'm sad about it.

D is a bit more reserved with the situation, but it's natural for him to be somewhat wary of literally everything... including books. The skeletons just have a random key... His eyes scan what's left for them to peruse. Even the books are incredibly questionable, but did he expect any less here.]

Do you see anything useful?

[Like legitimately useful.]

[prozaic]

[excuse him, he's getting distracted from books by some of the skely-tons coming close to clean up the dirt from their footwear. he gives them a soft greeting, patting them on their skulls and even holding out a finger for them to tap their tiny hands against.

then he remembers he's being spoken to, and looks up.]

No, nothing as of yet. Perhaps, however, useful is subjective. Whatever is useful for you is something trivial to me. Come, sit, and search for yourself.

[he doesn't feel bad about ignoring the man for a bit, though.]

[damnpire]

[Honestly, he cannot disagree with the logic. Gently, he frowns at the skellies even though they are simply doing their jobs, and he doesn't bother them. He wanders over toward Shalem and the books, glancing at a few of them as he goes.

They are an eclectic bunch...]

I'm not sure if any of these are the ones which had been missing.

[He won't sit, but he does stand for the time being to look over the tomes.]

[prozaic]

Likely not... [were they even told what volumes were missing...? shalem is fuzzy on that recall.]

But then again, I believe some would consider the knowledge on how to deal with beasts important enough to be required out in the front.

[then he raises the aforementioned tome, and begins to skim through it as well, as the skely-tons disperse, trying to find a way around his tail that's just laying limply on the floor like a particularly shiny rope.]

[damnpire]

[They weren't which is very strange to him, honestly. But whatever. Plenty of people have tried to swindle him a little. Is this why he's so distrustful of everything going on in this room? Maybe.]

Something isn't adding up...

[He frowns at the Nightwalker book in particular, but doesn't open it yet. He looks over the book Shalem is browsing through, and then he looks around the entirely of the room again without moving from where he's standing.]

You could try the key on the door.

[Not that it will work, but at least they will know then.]

@zagreus (mirth, crystals)

[prozaic]

Would this charging method still work with my lower body temperature, I wonder? [and out loud does he wonder, even if it's just to his companion.] Perhaps... we have to charge it longer than what's usual for others?

[then he reaches out, wrapping fingers around zagreus' wrist. he's far more comfortable touching zagreus nowadays after they went and got drunk together. besides, if he can't be physically comfortable with the man he recited poetry at, despite no longer wanting to create art, who can he be comfortable with?

... aside from phantom.]

Shame we can't use your feet in our favour, hm? But it's fine, if you want to continue with such a thing for the rewards, I will work with you.

[dodgeouttahell]

[With an amused grin that doesn't even falter with Shalem's grip around his wrist, Zagreus shrugs.] Holding a foot would be odd, wouldn't it?

[Even if the image somehow tickles him, he's not expecting that to happen. He knows his feet are odd in this place, even though this is another type of Afterlife.

Zag merely looks at the crystal they have to warm up, nodding.] It would be useful, right? To have one of these? But I know holding hands for long periods of time can be difficult.

[Especially when it's someone like him, he's naturally fidgety, restless. That and, well, he's sure that Shalem has more things to do than indulge him.]

[prozaic]

I'm accustomed to sitting still, with only my thoughts for company. [it's not pleasant, but at least now he does have company. that makes this little excursion easier.

then he pats zagreus' shoulder.]

But you're here with me, aren't you? That means, I am not alone.

[cheerfully, he starts to remove the rings and glove from one hand.]

[dodgeouttahell]

[Zagreus can't help but pay attention to the way Shalem removes rings and gloves, his head tilting curiously at the rings in particular. He knew the texture of the gloves but hadn't really paid much attention to the accessories. Still, watching Shalem remove them somehow makes it more poignant that this person is comfortable with him around to do so.

The line of his shoulders relaxes, at least a little, knowing that. He smiles a little as he returns to regarding the crystal they're supposed to warm up.] I sure do hope this works, though. I was very surprised to learn the seasons strike this place just as strongly as on the surface.

[prozaic]

[once his hand is free-- he tucks the glove into a pocket, but he replaces the rings on his fingers, he just feels naked without jewelry-- he wriggles his fingers at zagreus, an invitation to hold. once again, his nails are lacquered, but in an iridescent black to match his tail.]

We shall see if it does work! Come, give me your hand and let's get started.