Cassel Sharpe.
23 March 2015 @ 01:16 pm
video

This is bullshit.

["This" being the black, silky ears he's sprouted in the wake of the flood. His long tail, equally black and twitching with irritation, pokes out from under his blanket, where he's curled up and sulking. The camera's at a skewed angle, balanced on the edge of his pillow.]

I just woke up like this. I didn't even do it. If it's gonna happen, I want to at least be the one to do it. I want . . .

[He trails off, his eyes distant and dull. When they snap back into focus, he sits up slowly, blankets falling around him, and narrows his eyes.]

It's supposed to hurt.

[And then he begins to change: skin rippling, body changing, limbs twisting. He grows a third arm, and then a fourth, the new ones vestigial, skinless, ugly. Growths emerge across his face, limning his high cheekbones. He curls up in the fetal position; you can hear bones crack, shift, curl, and break. All the while he's crying out in a dog's whine, an ugly helpless yet somehow angry noise. The blankets tangle around his shifting feet as they grow bark and tentacles and recede into stubs.]

[Eventually, endlessly, he is still. The ears and tail have gone completely.]
 
 
Cassel Sharpe.
26 September 2014 @ 07:48 pm
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 Sharpe.
14 May 2014 @ 12:27 am
spam } barge, day 1

[Cassel remembers the time before. Most of it. The week between, not so much. So he walks into this with no context, no ideas, just a memory of who he was, what he's probably done. He wakes up on this Barge terrified.]

[But if he acts terrified, he dies. Probably, if he has any guess, over and over again. Because that's the kind of person he was here: the kid who killed for fun, who pulled the metaphorical wings off flies to see what would happen, who turned his inmate into a half-bird-half-bat horror on days ending in Y, as punishment, as whatever. A cruel son of a bitch.]

[So, okay. He can play that for a while. At least until he tears this place down. (Or tries to stay alive. Either way.)]

[When he leaves his cabin, he walks around without his gloves on. His bare fingers are a threat of transformation. He'll do it anywhere, everywhere, hurt anyone for the fun of it. Or at least that's what his face says. The promise doesn't quite reach his eyes.]


spam } port, days 2-4

[If the message he receives confuses him, the port confuses him even more. He has no idea when the last port was, when he was here last. It doesn't make sense to let people go, unless they'll all just be tugged back like normal. But nothing's working - how does the Admiral know that will? Does he know anything? Or is this someone else at the wheel entirely?]

[Cassel almost stays aboard. But people he likes - correction: people he runs with, because he doesn't have friends here - go into the city, so he follows with, to see what he can see. Out here, he wears gloves. Out here, he's wary.]

[Soon enough, he learns that he should be.]


( ooc; cassel is unaffected for the desperate to deliver plot! his mirror barge backstory is here. after day 4, he will be in hiding on the planet after bucky outs him. )
 
 
Cassel Sharpe.
28 October 2013 @ 10:49 pm
deck spam } open

[It has been said in the past that Cassel walks like a leopard dressed up as a house cat. This is still - very applicable. It's just that he uses his claws more these days and cleans them less, and he only really makes an effort to seem nice when he wants something he can't get with threats or bribes.]

[He doesn't care about the deck, but he does spend a decent amount of time on deck even now, even with everyone milling around like assholes trying to claw their way to the top of the mountain. He has a plan. He will be living like a king regardless, when this place falls apart; it's just a matter of pressing the right buttons and getting certain stubborn assholes graduated before the end goes from nigh to right now.]

[When he isn't committing violent acts of overwrought and symbolic discipline, he arranges a folding deck chair by the starboard rail and occupies himself with one of two equally important tasks. First, mending holes in his gloves - the less-than-deliberate ones; there's a small hole in the forefinger of his left and the ring finger of his right that were arranged on purpose, bless Shandra's rotting heart. Second, sketching. He possesses a honed fascination with the human form, what it can become, how far it can be stretched - literally - before bones break. Before the psyche does. Here, he's been working on his pencil drawings for years. They're horrific. Some of them are probably familiar.]


private } anya & harvey )

public } video

[For those who are old hat on this Barge, this display is nothing new. Cassel did it a couple of times with Anya - a whole lot more with Harvey. He's taken time after the blowback to collect himself, to grind his teeth until the pain flies off his face, to shake it off and push his hair back and adjust the cuffs of his gloves. He looks long-suffering, though bright-eyed.]

I realize we're all really excited about the door, but I still happen to have a job to do here, so - well. You all know how this goes.

[There's a cage approximately mid-deck, on a stand as tall as a podium, with a flat shelf. Something shifts inside it, then goes still.]

cw; body horror, gore, torture )

[The camera shifts back to Cassel, then pans out to display the both of them. He gestures widely at the cage, a put-upon Vanna White.]

As usual, if you have any grievances to air with Harvey Dent, this would be an excellent time to do so. If you have any frustrations you'd like to take out on, you know, whoever, knock yourself out. He'll be on deck for eighteen hours.

Just restrain yourselves from killing him, if you can help it. I know it's trying.

private spam } chris & slevin )