Sebastian "weirdo nerd" Michaelis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
untiltheend) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lastvoyageslogs2026-05-05 04:09 pm
untiltheend) wrote in lastvoyageslogs2026-05-05 04:09 pm
Entry tags:
That butler, lost
Who: Sebastian and OTA
What: Sebastian during port
Where: The Nethermere
When: The Old Smoke: Into the Archives
Warnings: Body horror of the "eyes and mouths where eyes and mouths shouldn't go" variety
The Long March
Sebastian is difficult to find in the Nethermere, because he isn't Sebastian. The butler uniform is gone; the pretty face nowhere to be seen; his pristine gloves disgarded and trampled to threads ages ago by so many feet.
Sebastian is easy to find in The Long March, because in the endless parade of empty-eyed soldiers, he is a vortex of pitch-black, jagged shadows, always at the very end of the parade, or following along on its side; never surrounded by anyone else, but still marching along. Sometimes, the vortex shapes the upper body and head of something humanoid, with six pairs of blood-red eyes on its chest before it melts back into shapeless shadows. Sometimes, a pair of detached, high-heeled boots emerge to march in a more traditional fashion, slightly above the ground. Sometimes, a mouth full of fangs opens where a human's eyes should be, as Sebastian snaps after a fellow Marcher.
Sebastian, not "the nameless demon", because unlike most pathetic lost souls, Sebastian remembers who he is. He remembers the child master. He remembers the master before that one. Grant my wish. Make me rich beyond all measure. Kill my enemy. Make my beloved return my love. Make me the ruler of my tribe. He remembers them all, every time the same selfish, petty desires. And he marches on.
What: Sebastian during port
Where: The Nethermere
When: The Old Smoke: Into the Archives
Warnings: Body horror of the "eyes and mouths where eyes and mouths shouldn't go" variety
The Long March
Sebastian is difficult to find in the Nethermere, because he isn't Sebastian. The butler uniform is gone; the pretty face nowhere to be seen; his pristine gloves disgarded and trampled to threads ages ago by so many feet.
Sebastian is easy to find in The Long March, because in the endless parade of empty-eyed soldiers, he is a vortex of pitch-black, jagged shadows, always at the very end of the parade, or following along on its side; never surrounded by anyone else, but still marching along. Sometimes, the vortex shapes the upper body and head of something humanoid, with six pairs of blood-red eyes on its chest before it melts back into shapeless shadows. Sometimes, a pair of detached, high-heeled boots emerge to march in a more traditional fashion, slightly above the ground. Sometimes, a mouth full of fangs opens where a human's eyes should be, as Sebastian snaps after a fellow Marcher.
Sebastian, not "the nameless demon", because unlike most pathetic lost souls, Sebastian remembers who he is. He remembers the child master. He remembers the master before that one. Grant my wish. Make me rich beyond all measure. Kill my enemy. Make my beloved return my love. Make me the ruler of my tribe. He remembers them all, every time the same selfish, petty desires. And he marches on.
no subject
"WATER. IT'S WATER. OH MY GOODNESS I'M A CAT. CATS AND WATER SHOULD NEVER EVER MIX."
She sits on the shoreline, waterlogged and miserable, and starts yowling at all the soldiers marching by to come and pick her up, dammit, she is a CAT and she is UNHAPPY and there's no excuse big enough to ignore her!
Wait. Is that..?
"SEBASTIAN."
She starts crying. Piteously. Loudly. Dramatically.
"Sebastian, help! Why do you smell like Sebastian?! Who ARE you? This is an outrage, I am WET and I am looking for Sebastian and instead I get some...some awful THING."
no subject
Ahhh. Such a beautiful person, in a place like this... He can't stop for long, of course, but--
The vortex shifts, turns into the upper body of a man, still as pitch-black as before. The silhouette resembles Sebastian's, as does the the vague suggestion of hair blowing in the non-existent wind. He can't remember exactly what he used to look like.
"I am an awful thing", he says. His voice doesn't resemble Sebastian's; instead it reverbs frighteningly, but he makes an effort to keep it down. He doesn't mean to frighten her.
no subject
"You are, but only because you're not carrying me right now." Donut pouts, and flops over on her side.
"Carry me!"
no subject
A tendril of black shadows emerges from the void. It shapes itself into a black hand with clawed fingers. Gently, it touches the cat's cheek.
"You should not be here. Leave, before it swallows you."
no subject
"Of course I shouldn't be here, it's wet here and there's no one to comb the disgusting mud from my fur. Help me, Sebastian!"
no subject
The tendril withdraws, and the swirling void that is Sebastian turns back towards the marching army.
no subject
"SEBASTIAAAAAAN."
no subject
Over his eye, his monocle catches the light with subtle shifts, pressing against his skin to lead him through the hordes of marchers. He slips between them with care, avoiding any touch, until he comes upon the sprawl of hungry shadow snapping sharp teeth after one of the half-faded souls around him.
"Sebastian," he says, falling into step with the vortex of his inmate's soul. "Come with me."
He doubts it'll be so easy, but he likes to set expectations up front.
no subject
There's no sign of recognition in any of them (he can't be expected to remember any little detail, every single person, after all). What would recognition on a faceless void look like? Perhaps a verbal acknowledgement.
The eyes all float towards the center of the void, looking ahead instead.
No, it isn't going to be that easy.
no subject
Hakkai reaches out to place a hand against the shadows, seeking to determine if it's solid or merely void. There's certainly something in there, opening eyes at him, but he isn't quite certain what Sebastian's true self might be in this world.
The vines writhe under both of their feet, grasping softly at the tendrils of shadow that lick from Sebastian's form.
no subject
Hakkai doesn't get to touch it for more than a second before a tendril of shadows shoot out to wrap itself around his wrist: that is definitely solid.
"I can sense the fluttering of your soul, like a bird's wings", says Sebastian. Why is this person here? He's alive. The voice doesn't sound like Sebastian's; it's deeper, louder, which a strange reverb to it.
no subject
He doesn't pull away from the tendril around his wrist; he's gotten Sebastian's attention, and that had been the point. The grip is firm, but not painful, and while Hakkai's very aware of Sebastian's capacity for violence, he's hoping that his capacity for curiosity will overcome it for now.
no subject
The tendril squeezes Hakkai's wrist painfully hard for just a moment, before it lets up. Just as a demonstration why the comparison is apt. As for the ridiculous suggestion... Sebastian chuckles; a low, dark sound which would probably frighten most people.
"Alive? See you not how busy I am, 'living'?"
no subject
"Are you? Or are you just walking in circles?"