takestime: (cat mrr)
Kahl ([personal profile] takestime) wrote in [community profile] lastvoyageslogs2024-08-05 07:29 pm
18

your friendly neighborhood god of retribution

Who: Kahl and YOU
Where: out and about, all over the barge
When: early august
Warnings: n/a

Kahl is restless. He also likes to watch people. For a hundred years he kept himself secret, mostly unseen, watching the strange teeming interconnected lives of people who had never been truly alone.

It's easiest to watch as a cat.

In the library, he sits atop high shelves; in the chapel he curls up on top of the altar. In the greenhouse, despite his ambivalent feelings about the place, he watches the fish in the pond, or hides in the bushes. He slips between the legs of wardens going up to the lounge.

In other places, he allows himself to be more obtrusive. In the Speakeasy, or on Deck, he lounges as a rangy, adolescent tiger, still larger than than most people would expect, despite not being quite full-grown.

Here and there, he also appears a small child, napping on common room couches or hiding in strange places - in one of the dryers in the laundry room, under the coats in the wardrobe, under the table in the dining hall.

For anyone sleeping in public areas, napping on couches or in unoccupied cabins, he might take a peak inside their dreams. And if anyone on board prays - not necessarily to him, but one of those little if-anyone-out-there-is-listening prayers - he is listening.
skybeyondsky: (Mischief)

Pond

[personal profile] skybeyondsky 2024-08-06 07:12 am (UTC)(link)
Wu Xin quite liked being around the pond. It was very peaceful there for meditation, or reading, or scrolling through the network, whichever it was.

Yet could not ever recall meeting the large tabby he was seeing today passing by the area.

"Hello there... Do you belong to someone?"
skybeyondsky: (One Side Buddha)

Re: Pond

[personal profile] skybeyondsky 2024-08-07 03:50 am (UTC)(link)
Well, that was the second talking cat he has met since being on the barge.

"Is this cat spirit also 10,000 years old?"

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nimbuster: (curled up in bed)

Dreams

[personal profile] nimbuster 2024-08-07 05:40 am (UTC)(link)
Ever since that disaster of a conversation with Aerith, Cloud's been a lot more aimless than usual. Sometimes he just stays in his cabin all day, sometimes he spends hours wandering the Barge until he finds somewhere quiet to sit and dissociate for a while.

Today he's chosen the level 5 common room that still has a couch - the one with the mural in it. He sits there staring at that mural for a while, half-musing on what it might mean and wondering who painted it and why, but eventually his late nights catch up with him and he ends up slightly curled up on the couch, asleep.

Any passing cats who might be peering into his dreams find themselves watching a young woman pray at an altar that rises out of the water almost like a living thing. Cloud is also here, shouting "Aerith!" and running to try to reach her, but as is so often the case in dreams, he doesn't seem to be getting anywhere no matter how hard he tries.
nimbuster: (ahead on our way)

[personal profile] nimbuster 2024-08-11 04:34 am (UTC)(link)
Aerith has no gods to pray to, so the initial thought bends a bit in Cloud's mind to fit the circumstances, but the gist remains - and in Cloud's mind, 'might almost be' easily becomes 'definitely.' He knows: The planet won't answer. Not in time, maybe not at all. He has to warn her, to stop her, get her out of here before he arrives.

"Aerith! It won't work! Please, stop!" Abruptly, the scenery shifts and he's standing there at the altar with her, huge sword now in hand - but it's not his own. It's Masamune.

She either doesn't hear him or ignores him, and he finds himself lifting the blade in a stance that is also not his own. "Aerith...Aerith, please, you've gotta--no!"

His body interrupts him to lunge forward with Masamune, aiming right for the heart.

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brotherblack: (pic#15960275)

[personal profile] brotherblack 2024-08-07 06:53 am (UTC)(link)
Shen Wei looks up as he rounds the corner of one of the stacks, and smiles slightly at the little orange tabby lounging at the top of the shelf.

"Good afternoon," he greets the boy, for he recognizes the energy even if the form is different. "I don't imagine you care for fish snacks when taking this form?"
brotherblack: (pic#15960641)

[personal profile] brotherblack 2024-08-07 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"I have a very good friend who is a cat, and he's quite partial to them no matter his shape. But then, he is a cat no matter what shape he wears...."

He pauses, visibly considering. "I do have some with me if you'd like to try them," he offers. He tends to carry a small ziploc baggy of the ones he makes for Ursula, and shares them with the other barge cats when he runs across them.
nonfictional: <user name="yayifications"> (that which colors the night)

library;

[personal profile] nonfictional 2024-08-07 04:29 pm (UTC)(link)
He's gotten into the groove of work, as strange as it is. He's not opposed to a schedule, but working with people and not locking himself in his room is what's really been the hurdle. The monotony doesn't bother him, though--he finds it kind of nice. A routine. Something reliable.

Something sticks out of his routine today, though. Shelving a few DVDs on a high shelf, he catches a cat out of the corner of his eye, causing his line of sight to shift upwards.

Huh.

Well.

Alan does what any other person would when met with a strange if adorable, cat: he finishes shelving the DVD, index finger lightly pressing it's spine back in with the rest of them, and then reaches that same hand up near the feline for it to sniff and (if he's lucky) allow a pet or two.
nonfictional: <user name="yayifications"> (from the darkness of the lake)

[personal profile] nonfictional 2024-08-09 02:56 pm (UTC)(link)
It wouldn't be a bad thing if he had a cat or something, Alan thinks as the cat nips playfully. He moves his fingers to scratch at the other's cheeks, checking for tags. Not that he wants whoever this cat belongs to, but it's a passing thought.

Then again, he'd have to remember to take care of himself before he takes care of a feline, so maybe not.

"Where'd you come from?"

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oddswerebad: (six of swords)

wardrobe

[personal profile] oddswerebad 2024-08-08 03:59 am (UTC)(link)
Nico is certain that the child under the coats is actually a child. Not a human child, and he hopes not one of any species the Admiral might catch in whatever net he uses. It's a dangerous to fall for any such disguise - but everything carries it's dangers. He can still find the form more comfortable than if he was looking at an adult.

His nod is a touch awkward, but less so than usual.
two_graves: (Default)

Re: wardrobe

[personal profile] two_graves 2024-08-11 06:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"Hello," says the boy in a quiet, raspy voice. He sounds like a child, but one who rarely speaks.
oddswerebad: (Default)

Re: wardrobe

[personal profile] oddswerebad 2024-08-11 06:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"Hi." He hesitates a moment. "Do you need anything?" It's not a perfunctory question.

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chaos_drifter: (Determined)

Dining hall

[personal profile] chaos_drifter 2024-08-08 02:34 pm (UTC)(link)

Avalon goes to the dining hall to watch people and because they like eating, not because they need food to survive. Today, they have a small bowl of soup in their hands. The warmth that it spreads through their body is similar to affection, but stronger.

The child that they find under the table is unexpected, and likely not a child. The Admiral never seems to bring anyone younger than a teenager here. They sit further back in their seat, leaning over to meet the person’s eyes. “Do I know you?”

two_graves: (hmm)

Re: Dining hall

[personal profile] two_graves 2024-08-11 06:05 pm (UTC)(link)
"I am Kahl," he says simply. Whether Avalon knows that name from announements at the time when he was still unpaired, or from keeping track of the infirmary roster, or if he is the sort not to notice someone he has not properly met, Kahl doesn't know.

"Do you?"
chaos_drifter: (Empty)

[personal profile] chaos_drifter 2024-08-12 12:03 am (UTC)(link)

“You were the one who could sense my lack of a soul.” They mentally file away the fact that he can shapeshift.

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madaboutit: sweeney looking up (Default)

Dreams

[personal profile] madaboutit 2024-08-10 12:28 am (UTC)(link)
Sweeney's dreams are a dangerous place. Or at least, they can put one at risk of being very disoriented. Everything in them feels a little too real, and the narratives seem disjointed and overlapping. A medieval king on a battlefield, surrounded by fire and the shouting of dying men; countless hours cramped in a car on the roadtrip from hell, diners and gas stations and shitty radio reception. Bar fights and Offerings of sweetbread and gold coins left on mossy stones. Battles of gods and the taste of sweet victory, the severed head of his monstrous grandfather hoisted for all to see as they kneel to him.

Every story is true. Well, true enough.
mukha: (17040363)

[personal profile] mukha 2024-08-11 04:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[He doesn't know how he managed to crawl back into his cabin or find Kahl's ID number on the communicator. It seems to take so long that by the time Kahl answers, he's almost forgotten calling him in the first place.

There's an awkward pause. He debates once again trying to deal with this himself, but... the demon did something. He can't walk. If only he could walk, he'd be able to hide everything.

Damn it, he doesn't want to do this... With great reluctance, he mumbles hoarsely into the device:]


... Hello, could you come to cabin 520, please?
mukha: (17049861)

[personal profile] mukha 2024-08-11 07:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[Blitzø stabbed him in the hallway, right outside his door. There's still blood, despite Pyotr's very hasty attempt to wipe it up with his coat. Luckily he lives at the end of the hall, where not many passersby are likely to venture. Once he hears Kahl's voice, he takes a moment to consider the most dignified way to present himself... The options are limited.]

Come in!

[He doesn't think he locked the door, and indeed, Kahl will be able to open it. Once he steps into Pyotr's ascetic little room with yellow wallpaper and minimal personal possessions, he'll find Pyotr sitting on the blood smeared floor, leaning against a 19th century traveling trunk, with his legs curled up beside him. He has a bloody strip of cloth wrapped around one hand, where Blitzø stabbed him through, and, still wearing his boots, is vaguely attempting to put pressure where Blitzø stabbed him through the foot. The demon also slashed up his legs, but he's apparently simply letting those wounds bleed.

The look on his face is a pale, feral, hollow-eyed rage, but he makes an effort to smile at Kahl.]


Hello, hello. As you can see, I'm in need of a bit of healing. Nothing too serious, I don't think! I'd take care of it myself, really, but then I remembered your offer over the network... I always like to meet new people... so...

[He trails off, waving a lightly shaking hand.]

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