Ｃａｓｓｅｌ Ｓｈａｒｐｅ. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
patheticvillain) wrote2014-09-26 07:48 pm
patheticvillain) wrote2014-09-26 07:48 pm
Entry tags:
- !cw: body horror,
- a series of unfortunate bodyhorrors,
- anger management,
- art metaphors,
- emotions are for twisting,
- especially when it's an awful idea,
- even when it's an awful idea,
- games for sociopaths,
- my turf fuck off,
- never a good boy,
- productive member of society or not,
- sharpe is douchebag for troll,
- so that trust thing,
- various exciting methods of torture,
- when i was a young boy i was honest
forty-three ➢ private + spam
private, separately } daneca, chris, anya, mickey
[Cassel sounds earnest, looks drawn. For all the world like he's really scared but trying to hide it to make people feel better.]
You there? Hey, look, if you're out there alone we should meet up. Everybody's going fucking insane.
. . . Er. Insane-er.
spam
[When he's with people, or when he knows people are watching, Cassel looks - not helpless, but weak, exhausted, overwhelmed. He projects through the crease between his brows and the tense hunch in his shoulders the perfect image of a boy who has done this too many times before and just wants to rest, just rest, get away. His disguise is almost flawless. He's very good at what he does, after all.]
[But catch him off guard and you'll see him for what he is: calculating, every minute, every second. His eyes are what give him away best of all. They're ice cold unless he makes himself put on the friendly face, which grates on him; he tries to get away without it whenever possible.]
[When it's his turn to watch the camp while the others rest, he goes a little farther out than strictly necessary, stepping deliberately outside the boundaries of camp to patrol for easy prey, for trespassers. He doesn't want to win this - honestly, despite his own heady narcissism, he doesn't think he can win a contest of brute force like this - but he can survive, and he can get a little revenge while he does it.]
( ooc; cassel is SWAPPED but stridently pretending not to be, deets here & here. )
[Cassel sounds earnest, looks drawn. For all the world like he's really scared but trying to hide it to make people feel better.]
You there? Hey, look, if you're out there alone we should meet up. Everybody's going fucking insane.
. . . Er. Insane-er.
spam
[When he's with people, or when he knows people are watching, Cassel looks - not helpless, but weak, exhausted, overwhelmed. He projects through the crease between his brows and the tense hunch in his shoulders the perfect image of a boy who has done this too many times before and just wants to rest, just rest, get away. His disguise is almost flawless. He's very good at what he does, after all.]
[But catch him off guard and you'll see him for what he is: calculating, every minute, every second. His eyes are what give him away best of all. They're ice cold unless he makes himself put on the friendly face, which grates on him; he tries to get away without it whenever possible.]
[When it's his turn to watch the camp while the others rest, he goes a little farther out than strictly necessary, stepping deliberately outside the boundaries of camp to patrol for easy prey, for trespassers. He doesn't want to win this - honestly, despite his own heady narcissism, he doesn't think he can win a contest of brute force like this - but he can survive, and he can get a little revenge while he does it.]
( ooc; cassel is SWAPPED but stridently pretending not to be, deets here & here. )
[Private]
[Private]
. . . Do you know when it gets dark here?
[Private]
[Private]
[Private]
[Private]
[Private]
[Private]
It's what happens when I transform something. My body goes apeshit. I sprout extra arms and things.