Don't know that I will but until I can find me (Open Catch-All for Feb)

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

Who: John Sheppard and You!
When: February
Where: Here and there
Summary: Some TDM prompts and monthly catch-all
Warnings: blood, knives, cutting, spiders again probably, auditory hallucinations, decay, rot, filth, mold, blood sacrifice, violence, possible self-harm and harm to animals, obsession, possession, codependency, altered mental states; stalking; unwanted romantic advances; toxic romantic relationships, possible discussion of cosmic horror; induced madness; fugue state; body horror; PTSD; disassociation; paranoia, supernatural compulsion



A. TDM Prompt: Arrhythmia - OTA

cw: blood; knives; cutting; spiders again probably; auditory hallucinations; decay; rot; filth; mold; blood sacrifice; violence; possible self-harm and harm to animals

It is the beating of his hideous heart!

[John's always enjoyed the Tell-Tale Heart. He much less enjoys it happening to himself in real-life, and turning his room into an unlivable, rotten mess. Admittedly, the aesthetic works with the creepy heartbeat, but he also likes his bed not being sunken and moldy, nor his things covered in dust, nor his foot slipping through crumbling floorboards, webs everywhere...

He's also had enough of spiders in his pants for a lifetime.

Waking up in actual rags was his breaking point. After managing to find intact clothing, he stumbles outside with a knife and casually asks the next person he runs across in the hallway of the apartments.]

I need your blood.

[He holds up a knife.

It's probably fine, coming from him especially.]

B. TDM Prompt: Love Potion Number 9 - Closed to Rodney McKay

cw: obsession; possession; codependency; altered mental states; stalking; unwanted romantic advances; toxic romantic relationships

[It's probably unfortunate that he brought the box of chocolates of with him while going to see Rodney, with a bright red RC car and its controller under his other arm. He doesn't think anything of it, really, though later on he will make a note to be more careful about free food around here. Again.

It's also probably unfortunate that he was already in love with the man before this happened, and his cat-like Hunt instincts already prompting him to be quite attached to him.

He knocks on Rodney's door, bored and having a bit of a sweet tooth, so he opens the chocolates (not that he was gonna give them away to him or anything) and pops one in his mouth. Then another. Then another.

Eh. He's had better chocolates.]

Rodney? You better be in there...

C. Open Prompts for around ADI - OTA

[John is still working on recovering from everything that happened in Dogtown and can be seen around ADI either working with Security, or Investigations.

Sometimes he can be found at the Gym, sparring with two Bantos Rods or at least the nearest equivalent he can find. He's never really been good with them but it reminds him of Teyla, who he dearly misses, and on the off-chance they make it back, he'd also like to win at least one match against her or Ronon.

He knows that's pretty much impossible, but at least he'd like to give it a good shot.

He can also be found at the Canteen sometimes, having a bite to eat (probably a turkey sandwich) or setting up a game of chess, or working on a Sudoku puzzle. If you're nearby and he has no takers on his chess game, he might try to coerce you into playing. Or just grab some checkers instead. Sometimes he'll have his back against the wall and his feet up on another chair playing with a Nintendo DS he found at a secondhand game shop.]

D. Wildcard - Anything goes!

Comments

A

[failedpromise]

(She blinks, drawing back. Then she sighs.)

Room falling apart? Unfortunately, as human as I look... I don't bleed.

(Take a second look, dude. That's a robot.)

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

Yeah, it is. And I’m tired of it.

[He looks a little tired, or maybe just on edge. He may have not gotten much sleep.]

Oh, yeah.

…you sure? We could test it out…

[failedpromise]

You and me both, buddy.

(Except she's not trying to use someone as a blood sacrifice to fix things. Needless to say, she's not feeling much sympathy for this guy.

He doesn't seem to be backing down in the face of reason, so it's time to take a less friendly approach.)

Not only am I sure, but I also know that this body is designed to function within the uppermost bounds of unaugmented human strength. Did you know that the current record for a Human bench press is nearly half a ton? Have you considered what a fist full of steel bones might do if swung with that kind of force at your face?

(Hopefully, he'll be reasonable and back down, but well ...hope for the best, plan for the worst. Her hands are already balling into fists in anticipation of a fight.)

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

You know what? I’ve just considered it, just now.

[And down goes the knife so at least he’s seeing reason.

For now.

There’s something sulkily disappointed on his face, either that’s just cat instincts, or that’s just him. Probably both.]

I was just…curious.

A

[bossyboiler]

[ One moment, she had been on a mail run. The next moment she is being accosted by an idiotic John and a knife. ]

Sorry. I'm using all of mine.

[ She sees the knife. She is backing up slowly in preparation to run. ]

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

Come on, it’s not that much!

[Probably not the most reassuring thing he could say.]

I just need some to stop the room from self-destructing.

…I’ll owe you a favor in return?

[bossyboiler]

No!

[ It is not the most reassuring thing he could say, far from it. ]

The last thing I'm going to do is let you cut me with your nasty knife and give you blood. Move rooms!

C - Gym

[musicdied]

[Yelena has never heard of Bantos fighting. She is, however, very well-trained in escrima, and so when she steps into the gym to find John squaring off against one of their colleagues on the security team, she posts up against a wall to watch, with a call of:]

I have next match.

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

[John manages to get a few hits in—it’s clear he’s not an expert by any means, but someone has taught him well, and the moves are fluid, quick, and practiced.

It’s a shame the other colleague manages to get a hit under his chin, and he goes flying backwards onto his back.

Ow.

Well, it was a good fight anyway and he shakes their hand, before going to grab a bottle of Gatorade and a towel on the side, offering a sheepish smirk to Yelena before he gets ready for another go.]

I promise I’ll be better in our match.

[musicdied]

You over extended a little. If you kept your guard closer, you might have avoided that last hit.

[She's smiling as she says it, like she's offering the advice to help him keep his promise.]

A

[clavesregni]

[Caitlyn's been up all night, not doing anything in particular, just thinking, but unable to sleep for the thoughts turning themselves over and over and over in her head. And her attempt to make coffee this morning was met with an empty bag where the beans should have been.

So she's tired and in a bit of a surly mood when she steps out to purchase coffee, only to find herself at knifepoint.

Though John doesn't actually seem threatening, it's instinct to raise her hands, at least up to waist level, where he can see them.]

John? Are you... alright?

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

I’m fine.

I just need your blood.

[A perfectly ordinary thing to say in the hallway, apparently. He does look a little worse for the wear, tired and looking like he’d not gotten any sleep.

He nods in the direction of his apartment.]

My room is falling apart, and apparently it’ll repair itself if I give it blood. So…

[clavesregni]

[Ah. Yes. She's been hearing stories of people's whose bedrooms are falling into disrepair.

But feeding the room blood? That sounds ill advised.]

How much blood?

[If it's only a few drops...]

And why can't you give it your own?

D: Dogtown Search cw: zombies, guns, serious injury, blood, spiders and spider swarms, PTSD

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

[T3: This part of the woods seems pleasant at first blush. It's a nice little jaunt beside a blood-red river toward what appears to be a small cottage. The building (Landmark #1) is in disrepair, the roof caved in in places and little paint remaining on the broken boards around the sides of the building. There's a little porch with a rocking chair on it that looks like it's in equally poor condition. Mind the splinters! Upon the chair is a corpse of a old-fashioned hunter. It's far less decayed than it should be for a man wearing those clothes. There is a flask of something situated in his lap. Above the hunter are thick spider webs that appear to have words spelled out in silk strands: ANTIDOTE 4 NE SPIDER VENOM.

At least they're here. At least they made it here, finally.

John huffs as he carries Rodney on his back across the now-infamous spiderweb bridge. Of course, he gets it, and he understands what Rodney's been through, but still. His enhanced strength makes it less strenuous, at least.

His P90 hangs off of his tec vest and he tries not to think about what happened last time. This was where the Stars were last time--though it's very early in the day, he still doesn't trust it. Any of this. He can feel his hands start to tremble but he doesn't dare let go lest he drops Rodney. He raises his voice out toward Caitlyn as the spider web bridge bounces around them--]

Don't stop for anything! Don't touch the sides, they'll swarm you!

[clavesregni]

[Caitlyn hurries along after John, her ADI-supplied rifle at the ready. It probably won't do her much good to be aiming high calibre rifle rounds at spiders, but the gun does give her a feeling of security.

And she currently feels very insecure simply walking across this bridge, but, teeth gritted and jaw locked, she keeps moving, determined to make it across no matter how badly she would like to be anywhere other than on a bridge made of spiderwebs over a river of blood.

As soon as she makes it across, she lowers the rifle, pausing for a moment as she catches her breath. Crossing the bridge wasn't much of an exertion, but not panicking while doing so certainly was.]

It can't be much further to the house from here, can it?

[energyfieldgood]

Don't tell her not to stop. You don't stop!

[The disgruntled mutter is only subdued because Rodney is keeping his eyes squeezed shut and his face pressed into Sheppard's neck, thank you very much, and did you have to mention swarming, seriously.

He will stay exactly like this (if he can't see them they're not there) until he can feel the swaying of the bridge subside. Interrupted only occasionally by helpful questions such as,] Are we there yet? How are we not there yet!?

[He has exactly 0 care how undignified this is.]

If I find a single spider on my body...

B

[energyfieldgood]

[Ugh, he should get him a key already. It's so annoying having to get up and physically do this. At least in Atlantis you just had to think at the door and it would open for you?

Alas, no such thing as gene-activated doors around here. So he trots over with a roll of his eyes, opening the door, trotting back, not bothering with ceremonials such as would you like to come in. Why would he. It's John.]

Where else would I be? Dogtown?

[Please.]

I'll be right with you, I just have to finish up with this simulation...

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

[John looks up at first, not thinking anything of it.

And then everything stops.

Oh.

It's not that he wasn't attracted to him before, it wasn't even that he didn't love him before--he is and he does. What's different is that the feeling is amplified by like, 10,000 and he's suddenly struck with a wild need to be next to him at all times. His face turns a little red and he closes the door behind him, almost forgetting the reason why he'd come here in the first place. It doesn't occur to him that this is from the chocolates.

He puts his RC car and the chocolates on a nearby table absently and trots after him like a lost puppy.]

Cool, I'll wait with you.

[He tries to slink his arm under Rodney's.]

[energyfieldgood]

[There's a startled wince and a bit of a pull away at the unexpected physical contact.]

What are you--

[He looks down at their arms, back up at him.]

Look, we talked about this. You need to control this cat thing of yours.

TDM #20: The Wheels on the Bus - Closed to Rodney

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

cw: spiders; spider eggs; swarms; uncanny valley; loss of bodily autonomy; full encasement; guns, gun violence

[It’s 2 am on Dory Road and John is investigating. He’s been here once alone before but Gus hasn’t arrived, so he’s a little impatient.

Of course, now that he’s with another person, there it is.

Sorry, Rodney.]

That’s our buddy. Gus the bus.

[Rolling—no, skittering down the road, instead of wheels it’s got spidery legs, eyes blinking in the darkness.

Yep. That’s a monstrous spider bus, all right.

John points his P90 towards the thing and before he can even move his finger he just…freezes.]

What the hell?!

[And suddenly, he’s moving on his own. Without meaning to, his hands are pulling the P90 away…and aiming it towards himself, then his companion.

No. This isn’t—]

I’m not—that’s not me!

[energyfieldgood]

[Why is he out here?

No, really, why is he out here? Why does this keep happening, why does he let himself get dragged into these situations? ... Fine, maybe because he keeps getting dragged into these situations back home and he's used to traumatic, dangerous jobs but honestly, this is getting ridiculous.

Then again, magic bus sounds a lot better to investigate than Dogtown. And maybe distracting John from Dogtown is all he can do for now.

Except then he sees Gus and all of that goes out the window.]

That's our-- that is not a bus!

[You know what, he's taking it back. Everything. This mission is canceled. They're out of here. He's about to grab John and pull him along, except then John raises his weapon at him and Rodney freezes.]

What-- what are you doing?!

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

It’s certainly something!

[Try as he might, he can’t stop himself, can’t control himself, and for a moment he’s so terrified that he might actually shoot Rodney that he doesn’t know what to do, what to think, how to breathe—the green of his eyes flicker a bright yellow and his pupils shrink and narrow to slits as he feels the call of the Hunt, the beast in him responding to danger.

Honestly, maybe it would be a good idea to give into it if only it would save Rodney—

—he growls and it’s nothing like the softer purrs and snarls and hisses of before—those almost sounded human.

This is the kind of growl that lives in nightmares, under beds and behind closets, in the primordial memory of the earliest humans in a world with deadly, monstrous predators.]

It’s not me—run! I’m not doing it!

Get out of here!

For Carter - cw: spiders, body horror

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

[It’s early morning and John doesn’t bother turning on any lamps or lights as he walks through the apartment door.

It’s nice being able to see better in the dark, and while he knows he should probably act as normal as possible, he thinks that Carter is definitely asleep since the lights are out. He’s so distracted thinking about any number of things that it doesn’t occur to him that there would be a myriad of reasons that the lights would be out and it wouldn’t necessarily mean that Carter wasn’t home.

His first mistake.

He thought he had been hiding it pretty well. It was easy to pretend to be, well, normal, a regular old human, and when interacting with friends and acquaintances alike, it was easy to act. Easy to just be…who he was.

Maybe he was fooling himself.

Maybe he was trying really hard to be the person that Rodney wanted him to be, that he had been, rather than the feral, beastial creature that crawled out of his dead body, that lurked under his skin, that ached to hunt, a monster that was clever enough to know how to pretend to be human, hiding under a smile.

He had been hunting.

It was easier now, feeding—it was so much easier to scare people when you were the big bad wolf (or cat), the monster in the dark, the thing that follows you up the stairs. He was careful enough not to leave patterns—it was always random, always different parts of town and the forest, and never the same person twice. He was careful not to be seen—it was probably just a stray dog, a street cat, a deer that was running away and made a lot of noise in the brush.

Thing was, sometimes it was difficult to…turn back to fully human after. He was wearing a hoodie—just out for a stroll, you know, all night. It hid the tail that he stuffed in the back, hid the fur that stuck out here and there, the pointed, cat-like ears, and his face—

—bright, almost glowing yellow cat-eyes, a fanged snout and maw full of sharp teeth, feathery whiskers that were hidden just under the sides of the hood—

—he still kinda looked like himself, but his face was twisted enough to kinda not.

He should probably be more upset about it. But he’s too busy enjoying the satisfying sensation of a full night’s work of fear.

He just has to get to his room and finally get some sleep.]

[setthetone]

[He doesn't want to turn on the lights.

He wants to sit here in the dark in his misery and wallow and feel sorry for himself and be angry at the world.

He knows it's not healthy, he knows it's the worst thing he can do. He knows he should do something, journal, do some yoga, hell even arts and crafts to take his mind off things. He's aching for a smoke. He's aching for a drink. He's aching for anything to take off the edge and give his mind some peace and quiet.

Maybe he should get some sleep.

If he was able to sleep, he'd be in bed.

Carter sighs, trying to shake off the inertia, that awful paralysis where his thoughts start spiraling because he knows once he allows them to spiral, they will only circle down the drain to one specific thought. One specific thing. One awful craving.

Take the steps. Work through it. Get it under control.

With effort, he manages to push himself up when there's suddenly the sound of the door opening. Must be John, coming back from who knows what he did at this hour. It's none of Carter's business and he's about to call out to him so he won't startle him when--

-- when there are yellow eyes in the dark that are coming for him and something in him pushes with the urge to get away immediately and then he's catapulting through the air before he can have a rational thought about this.

There's a crashing noise when he takes a side table with him, along with the mug and old plate that was still parked on top of it.

Ow.]

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

What the hell!?

[The voice, although growly and snarly, is very much John Sheppard, even if the thing that's there doesn't exactly look like him. It feels like his heart stops entirely for a second and he yowls, sounding not unlike an upset cat, jumping several feet in the air in the opposite direction, taking out another chair and a small table with him.

His claws are out and when he lands he digs them into the floor, his tail and fur poofed out as far as they could go. For a terrifying monster, he's suddenly very round.

...and for some reason, gleaming in the dark, is a thin thread that seems to have found its way to him, sticking to his arm.

He still thinks he's about to be attacked so he snarls, backing up against the door.]