open

[semblant]

Who: Solomon Goldsmith (sembant) & YOU.
What: Catch all for this month waddup 4/21.
When: Whenever honestly.
Where: Mostly Olympia. Olympia (if you're doing ur own thing here/unless discussed otherwise).
Warning(s): Gore(?) but nothing yet.


★ 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀𝑒𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒾𝒸𝓉
[Solomon's been cordially invited to a nerd's birthday party, which means he should show up prepared. Appreciative of the third-party summons and impersonal enough to indicate he won't be staying the entire duration of. He's already holding a sack of something questionable as he peruses various inebriants. One of the worst things about this planet thus far is that none of the beverages here make sense, and the after-effects can be unpredictable.

Unless you're an old sake-drinking guy.

Currently, he's bent forward, scrutinizing an iridescent bottle of Chermugeac Mousseux -- sounds douchey enough.]



★ 𝓂𝓊𝓇𝓀𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌
[For all of his distaste regarding Wyver -- the smell of it, the look of it, the questionable nature of it in its entirety, Solomon spends a surprising amount of time in Murkwell Hollow. Close associates, re: Diva may be the only person on the gosh dang planet who'd know, or at least have a hunch as to why. Currently, and with purpose, he's kicking rocks (not literally) around the marsh. Same old shtick. Solomon bums around the marsh like a mallrat, irritates the local fake centipede monster(s) and gets his rocks off for the night. Feel free to have him infringe on a mission your character may be on, or catch Solomon in the midst of a heated battle with messed up appendages.

OTA fuck me up.]

Comments

theater district @ rohan

[semblant]

[Solomon realizes immediately that he's being gawked at -- well, not immediately as a proper measure of establishing that a gawking situation is taking place requires some time; approximately two minutes. He's two minutes into a cotton-candy colored drink at Itchy Spirit Tavern when he notices there's a guy with a fucked up Burger King crown headband staring at him. It takes roughly three minutes for him to maintain eye contact, sporting an entirely neutral expression all the while. He's not familiar in any way.

Maybe he's a Jester-escapee from the palace. He'll cross one leg over the other, beckon his waitress over only to have her act as a messenger. She'll head over to Rohan's table in his stead and provide a verbal invitation.

Maybe he has some royal hot insider information he can embezzle. He's waiting for his fondue to come out anyway.]

i hate you so much

[insist]

[ ok rohan doesn't know what solomon looks like but pretend he somehow ... found out ... from hearing other people talk about him i guess??? here we are.

He's across the restaurant, sipping his tea like a classy bitch, waiting to see if this guy will do anything interesting, when the waitress comes down to beckon him over. Looks like he noticed. Oops. Rather than try to lie about it, Rohan decides to save himself the embarrassment by owning up in a rather unabashed way. ]

So you noticed ...? Alright, alright, you caught me. Good for you. [ He was watching you!! So there!!!! ] Obviously, I have my reasons for doing this.

owned

[semblant]

[lol....what a weirdo...

Good for him indeed. His chin's found a place in his palm, watching Rohan with feigned interest.]

Oh?

[Whatever could they be, aside from being fragrantly homosexual?]

Have we met?

[insist]

[ um?? those reasons are gen?? he just came out to see some bats and he's being attacked. ]

We haven't, but I've heard about you from that master of yours. [ That master he doesn't know the name of, because he didn't ask. Rohan never asks people for their names, apparently. ] It's a long story and I hate wasting time, so I'll cut to the chase.

[ Since he was invited here, he's going to plop his butt down onto the chair in a fairly dramatic way and cross one leg over the other, pointing directly at Solomon. There's a definite flair to his actions; typical of jojos... ]

I was hoping to see it! That other form of yours ...

[semblant]

[Coming out here to trace his hot bod...really weird...sketchy...pervert...

sketchy tho lol get it...]

Master?

[Of course, Diva comes to mind immediately, but that's hardly an appropriate word for their relationship. His chin lifts from his hand as he's indicated toward -- it's much more sinister of an act in his brain versus reality.

Must be a Jojo thing.]

Other form...someone's been filling your head with nonsense.

[insist]

[ sad that i can't deny any of these allegations

also hate that 'sketchy' isnt my username ]

I was told you're able to turn into a bat-like beast. As a manga artist who writes horror, I can't let this knowledge pass me by without seeing it once for myself.

[ He clutches onto that large sketchbook of his, indicative that he also wants to draw him. ]

Of course, if that girl was only leading me on, that's -- Hmph. A disappointing pity. [ And he'll vaguely apologise for stalking Solomon, maybe. ]

[semblant]

[A manga artist who writes horror...aka, an absolute fucking nerd of the worst variety. His brows lift high on his forehead, the allegation finds an eventual chuckle.

It's forced, fake.]

Oh? And my master informed you of such? I haven't a master, you know.

[MYTH, BUSTED. That sketchbook of his is getting a fierce stinkeye btw.]

I apologize for the disappointment.

[insist]

[ Sad. You can almost see the wind being taken from his sails. This guy hasn't done a thing to him though, there's no reason to be uncivil about it. ] I see. In that case, I'll apologise for taking up your time.

[ He isn't interested in sticking around for smalltalk, so Rohan gives a nod, tucking his sketchbook under his arm and getting up. As he turns to take his leave, though, he can't help but shake the feeling that he's still curious; that he might be losing an opportunity if he doesn't investigate thoroughly. That girl sure didn't sound like she was lying. He's fairly good at telling when people are, being someone who lies about a lot of things. ] Hmm ...

[ This is mean of him, but it isn't like he has anything malicious planned. It should be fine, right? If Solomon is just a regular person after all, he'll write 'Forget about all of this' and they can go on pretending this never happened. If Solomon is lying after all, well ... He might get to learn something interesting today. ]

I'm sorry about this as well. [ As he walks past Solomon, Rohan rests his hand on the man's shoulder, activating his Stand. ]

[semblant]

[Their interaction seems abridged -- suspiciously so. An odd followed by a high-browed glance.]

You needn't apologize.

[Solomon's curious of what information this man may have on him -- whatever ELSE he'd been told, the means of which...details and such, intriguing as they are bothersome. He won't keep him, though. That'd seem desperate, fishy. A nod follows that feigned departure, but there's a sudden weight on his shoulder. I forget how his stand works exactly and these YT videos are scaring me but I'm pretty sure it's at this exact moment that his shoulder's going to pop out into a book of sorts, starting from when he'd been in the military and turned towards becoming a monster as a means of evading the cruelty of humankind. He'd only joined the army as a medic -- in an attempt to counter the causalities from the first world war. Diva's mentioned as the progenitor of such a taboo fate, immortality combined with a taste for blood and a hulking, seemingly skeletal form to go along with it. That's only the beginning.

Solomon's gonna need a second to realize something is Wrong.]

market~

[eaudevamp]

[ Guess who else was also out shopping for a gift for a certain redhead's upcoming birthday?

This vampire.

Reign didn't know much about wine, much less which types were the premium ones or how to tell the difference between one kind and the other. Besides, he didn't know if Chuuya liked a particular kind.

He stopped beside his pseudo-fellow-vampire, bent forward as well to take a closer look at the wine bottle label. ]

How do you pronounce that?

[ Honestly, Reign should be more careful over how Solomon would react to his presence after that selfie Diva sent her Chevalier. ]

[semblant]

[What a coincidence...

The intruder's offered a hard stare; he's immediately recognized, first as the guy whose hair he'd nearly yanked from the root in throes of passion and such, second: as the guy he should probably kill.]

...spontaneity doesn't suit you. Unless you've taken up a habit of stalking me.

[His grip goes tight around the bottle.]

It isn't meant for you, I wouldn't worry about it.

[eaudevamp]

[ Reign actually took a step back, Solomon's death glare almost a physical thing. He should have been more careful. ]

I'm not stalking you. Just saw you from across the street and decided to say hi.

[ Except Reign hadn't properly greeted Solomon. Was it appropriate now?

Either way, he gave a slight shrug, straightening up. ]

Merely asking. You didn't need to bite my head off.

[semblant]

[Reign: Just a normal golden retriever trying to be social and polite. Solomon's all but baring teeth at the moment.]

Is that all you're concerned about?

[A mere beheading...how mundane.]

[eaudevamp]

[ Hey, Solomon had the blond hair. He should be the golden retriever! As it was, Solomon was more like a hound. A blond-haired hound. Yup.

Reign frowned, sensing a kind of animosity from the other, arms folded across his chest. ]

Is this about the picture Diva sent you?

[ Things could get ugly. ]

[semblant]

[A blond hound...that sounds awful.]

Are you still daydreaming about that?

[He who smelt it dealt it. Reign's made the fatal flaw of bringing it up specifically...]

I'll have to set this down if we're to continue talking about your ties to Diva.

[eaudevamp]

[ Blood hound. Blond hound. Blond blood hound? Seemed fitting.

Reign eyed the bottle in Solomon's hand. He didn't relish having it smashed over his head, or used in other ways to cause him harm. Honestly, Reign preferred not to make a scene in public.

He waved at the wine bottle. ]

Put that down, and we can find a place to sit down and talk.

[ After all, they were gentlemen, no?

Reign didn't wait for Solomon's response as he turned and headed for the nearby cafe. This one was at a more isolated location, subdued and certain not to attract attention. ]

[semblant]

[He'll do just that -- set it down for the time being. He'll choose a better flavor later on, when he's not brimming with rage. Taste test it to be certain, even.]

Aren't you brave, to turn your back to me.

[Murmured in his wake. He's behaving, despite the opportunity Reign's presented him with.]

A mortal should air on the side of caution. Doubly when faced with acrimony -- have you no survival instincts?

murkwell hos

[shikomizue]

[The gossip is hardly coherent enough to be intelligible, much less credible, but there's no being picky when hunting down scattered Volkran cohorts. They hide just as easily in plain sight as in hovels, as in the jungle.

That one should be kicking up swamp spores in Murkwell Hollow is easy to believe - Takasugi is suspicious of this tip's validity for exactly that reason.

Someone's been splashing around, stirring up the monsters. Makes it hard to pass through.

Having followed the tavern gripe to the rancid marsh, Takasugi follows the erratic sounds of the bog, set on finding nothing but a smog covered sunrise.

What he comes upon is something equally bright, but more of a beacon of stupidity than beauty. Solomon's a surprising sight in the pit of Wyver, Takasugi had thought he'd been dragging the man metaphorically kicking and screaming into filth. Yet here he is, submerging himself in it willingly.

A white suit's no good if its surrounded by other pristine cuts, apparently. It's meant to be ostentatious. An excuse to complain.

The waters around them gurgle, something perturbed slithering beneath, but yet to surface.] Oi, oi, they told me if I came out here I'd find a Shaman.

Did you enjoy the blood so much you went and joined them?

hos

[semblant]

[He's never had company here, somehow. Even in the face of those rumors regarding Shaman, cohorts and whatever goddamn else -- maybe they simply avoid getting too close to the marsh; death by giant water centipede isn't so honorable after all, not the most pleasant way to make an exit. Takasugi's voice cutting through the quiet is something that catches him off guard, obviously, all of that being said. A sharp look cuts over his shoulder, ignoring the bubbling for the time being.]

You of all people ought to know the answer to that.

[Pls tag Solomon's triggers.]

What are you doing out here?

[Nevermind that he's already revealed such information. He's looking for prey, similar yet different. He really shouldn't be so surprised, considering this part of his territory and he has a penchant for nasty ass places that smell like shit and play host to sentient venereal disease.

His attention doesn't shift to the monster, even as it rises up like that shitty picture of the Lochness Monster everyone reposts.]

If you're working on commission again, don't let me distract you.

[in other words gtfo.]

[shikomizue]

[Like hell he's getting paid for any of this. Coming all the way out to Murkwell Hollow actually isn't Takasugi's idea of a good time, no matter how putrid and mucky it is. Getting entrenched in the swamp this much and returning empty handed would be annoying.

So he'll make it worth his while, at Solomon's expense.]

Aa, but I'm here to take care of a monster that's been stirring up the bog.

[He'll remember that surprised look on Solomon's face, even if catching him off guard isn't a challenging endeavor. Not because the man is particularly dense when it comes to his surroundings, but...

There needs to be some trepidation about one's own life to have a guard up in the first place.

Solomon always seems more concerned about his suit than his organs. And in this situation, where the white thing is already speckled with mud spray, Takasugi would bet the blonde has nothing to lose.]

Will that be you? Or the thing behind you?

[He assumes Solomon's noticed.]

[semblant]

[If not for the fact that he can't place anyone who'd put a tariff on him, Solomon would assume Takasugi was referencing him as the monster in need of caring -- something like that. He'll squint across the distance between himself and his company, unamused by his response regardless.]

You would fare better against the beast.

[The beast who doesn't seem anymore endeared to their company than it did mere seconds ago. It's sliding its way ever-closer, mouth ajar -- they always look as if they're in the midst of trying to concentrate on something much to difficult to comprehend. Barring the creepy multiple rows of jagged teeth and a gaping maw that looks unending in blackness.

It's all rather redundant to him, a familiar face, not unlike the human sort some distance away.

The animal's front claws, he supposes, are meant to work in a way that lures prey toward itself -- specifically its pronged aperture. He wouldn't know, as he's yet to be forcibly invited so close.

Until now.

He's so ass chafed about Takasugi coming up on him, he's negligent heeding the third member of their party -- or the up and coming antagonist? It's hard to tell who's playing what role. Point in case, the XL centipede monster successfully lands a cheap shot, spearing him through the gut with very little difficulty. It enters somewhere at his lower back, exits through his front. The claw isn't so pointed that it's without bearing some of his insides -- reds, scrambled muscle.

How, first of all: embarrassing. Second: painful. It all occurs with the necessary sound effects -- nothing overly histrionic. He doesn't appear to be dying as much as he's pissed.

Gonna leave it at that cus I wrote a lot of stuff happening for no reason.]

[shikomizue]

[Solomon's right - Takasugi would fare better against the beast. He wouldn't end up with his guts on display in front of him, stuck in place in a sick reversal of insect pinning.

As clear as the tangled viscera dangling from the creature's claw is the other man's apparent death wish. It's not too strange a sight - Takasugi doesn't fear for his life, nor does he hope for future dawns, But he'd never let his days end in a dismal bog.

The blonde's anger, only flecked by anguish, isn't a surprise; when Takasugi's eye widens, it isn't incredulous, it's eager.

There isn't a creature in this swamp who isn't a monster.]

Ah.

Your suit's ruined. [He makes wry commentary, rather than approach with any intention to help.]

THAT ICON FHSDUGJKSF,D

[semblant]

[The claw-appendage acts like a cork. He's not bleeding much. He's just standing there, gored, for a moment too long. He's stubbornly abstaining from allowing his arm to form into something more sinister -- it'd bring Takasugi too much joy.

On the other hand, having a massive spear through his stomach isn't he most pleasant thing he's ever experienced in his life. It's a whitehot pain, enough to floor him, but he's kind of being propped up. That pain sears and branches off in every direction -- he lasts about seven seconds before giving in, allowing a limb to morph and sharpen, whereby he'll cut that near-crustacean appendage right off.

Whereby the creature shrieks out in pain, winding and thrashing about, kicking up the swampass -- his suit's flecked with mysterious swamp shit in the process.

Talk about dramatique.]

So you noticed...

[Remiss, strained. He's backing up into the nearest tree, trying to Yogi Bear the claw out of his middle. It's stuck like a plug and while he could just pull it from the front, he needs some leverage for this to be a success.

Something like that.]

Will you just be spectating?

[The centipede is still freaking the hell out, albeit quietly...]

he is Into It

[shikomizue]

[There it is.

This time, Takasugi watches Solomon's arm contort, bending against itself until the flesh has reshaped into a crude blade, sharp and grotesque. His smile mirrors the display, a gouge across his face as the man's pristine countenance erodes.

With a sickening split, the creatures severed limb falls away, sending it into coil after coil of pain. For the moment, it poses no threat, the monster just as likely to retreat as to lash out for survival.

Too bad Solomon didn't just finish it off.

But Takasugi hadn't expected him to. When pyres had been burning high in Wyver, he'd expected some fight, some physicality behind the frustration he'd caused by pushing the man away. Then, nothing.

And here, too, nothing, other than muted aggravation.]

Do you need help? [Ask him for it, and he'll oblige.]

he got a semi

[semblant]

[This method isn't working out for him. He could pull it through, but the claw seems to be pronged and is catching on other parts of himself. In the end, it'd be fine to just rip it though, let it happen, it'll autocorrect in a second.

Barring the fact that it hurts like a motherfucker.]

Forget I asked.

[He just can't find much appreciation in Takasugi staring at him as he's in the process of being killed. Ish. He'll steady himself with that mutated arm, use his other hand to work the oversized claw out of himself in reverse. It cuts into his palm in the process, which really isn't a problem in comparison to the gaping circle in his abdomen. It inevitably, fortunately, plops out behind him like a big turd.

The wound will slowly stitch itself together (slowly by comparison to the speed of light, at least) while breathing unevenly, mopping his sweaty hairline with a bloodied palm...which renders the act useless.]