☣️ the court, the church, love, all left behind | OPEN

[enblightened]

Who: Bigby the Abomination, OPEN
What: Catch-all for January! Includes a prompt for the Snake Den and Shedding Ceremony. Prompts will be broken up into comments for ease of finding and tracking.
When: January
Where: Snake Den and other various locations

Content Warnings: References to severe depression, self-loathing, forced transformation/body horror, torture, and religious zealotry. Snakeden is considerably lighter in tone if that's what you're looking for. Crimson curse prompt includes cannibalism, gore, and body horror.

Comments

☣️ SNAKEDEN

[enblightened]

A. dancing and mingling (the wallflower wilts)

[It took a bit coaxing on his own personal level, but eventually Bigby does make his appearance. He is washed, freshly shaven, and what hair he does have is woven into a simple braid draping over his shoulder. A suit and cape alike were gifted to him from Madame Generosity, perfectly fitted for him. And really, it's the first time that Bigby appears anywhere completely dressed in something besides his usual ragged trousers and pathetic shroud. The man even has a fine pair of shoes on instead of bare feet enduring all.

The chains remain, crossing over his arms and chest, his shackles gleaming under the cuffs of his coat. Even in all of his gradual acceptance to being here, he cannot risk himself.

Should he find you on your own, he does offer a hand politely. It is still bony, rough with calluses, but his touch is always careful.]

Might I steal you away for a dance?


B. drinking is a fine stress relief (no afflictions)

[Typically, when Bigby drinks, it isn't to be social. It is drown away, to escape the horrors of his own mind and find rest somehow. Yet here it's... pleasant. Fun. Be it wine or ale, it doesn't matter; he finds himself marvelling at how utterly relaxing this evening has been.]

I do not know many games, truthfully, but there is one a comrade enjoyed. I Never, she called it.

Is that perhaps also popular in other realms? Though I am amendable to other ideas, of course.

A

[droptheious]

[Varian is slowly but surely recovering from his corruption. Having Fern back is making a huge difference and now all that remains of the whole ordeal is a slightly grey-tinge to his skin. In an attempt to see people again and encourage his healing, he's come to The Red for some time to relax. He's wearing a pretty fancy jacket, too!

He lets out a surprised little laugh as Bigby offers up his hand.]

Bigby! You look good! [He's a little disappointed to see the chains still there, but he knows it's gonna be baby steps- it's a miracle in of itself that Bigby is out here at all. He gestures at his prosthetic. ] Okay, but I warn you, even before I got this thing I wasn't a good dancer. I'm probably gonna tread on you a lot.

[enblightened]

[It is a tempting thing to embrace Varian, relief flooding Bigby as he'd like nothing more than to reassure his young friend how important he is. But he refrains, and instead offers a faint smile.]

And you as well, Varian. In any case, please know I am not concerned.

...I am also immensely out of practice, but I would still like to.

[droptheious]

Thanks, it...uh just showed up? I think it was a gift from Madame Generosity? Which is weird, she's not my Patron.

[He really wouldn't turn down a hug. He's not the most tactile person in the world, but he definitely wouldn't mind - it's a special case after all. ]

Then sure, we can...awkwardly stumble on the dance floor and try not to do horrible damage to each other's feet in the process.

A.

[rosae]

( The thought of dressing up again is strange, at first. It feels like a lifetime ago that Rose was attending a charity event or elaborate business party with Christopher, or playing hostess at their own home for a crowd of friends dressed to the nines — though it really couldn't have been more than a few months back. Still... so much has happened, and she isn't the same person she once was.

She does her hair and nails and feels like a stranger with herself, at first. Then, it becomes less and less so, and she begins to ease into the familiarities. She's always loved this: getting dressed up, being around people. She wanders around the Snake Den, still new enough to this place that she recognises very few faces, but she's smiling at strangers all the same.

Her own attire is a bit of a sassy little red thing, paired with a few golden bangles, heels, and a matching clutch. It's the sort of thing she would certainly have worn back home, and she isn't shy in the least about showing some skin; in fact, she's sort of in her element, here.

When she hears a familiar voice and turns towards it, Rose's eyes widen with a mix of surprise, recognition, and a friendly delight. She's reaching to take the man's offered hand before she even has to think about it, her other one coming to join it, both of her hands clasping over his for a moment. )

Bigby, it's great to see you! You look wonderful!

[enblightened]

[For a moment, Bigby is quiet as he takes in Rose and her dress alike. It isn't the kind of clothing he's used to seeing, considering he comes from a place that's more akin to 18th century fashion, but he does appreciate it for what it is regardless.

Briefly, he appears bashful, a hint of green blush on his face before he eases into a faint smile. Politely, he bows his head.]

You are too kind with your words, and I thank you.

And you-- you are lovely, Rose. I'm glad to have run into you.

[rosae]

( Rose's smile warms at his words as she keeps looking him over — in parallel to her own very modern clothing, his looks like something one could see from a different place and time and it's very suiting for him, she thinks. He looks lovely. )

It's not too fancy, but I was never really a ballgown kind of gal. I like something you can move a little bit in.

( There's a brighter grin, and she gives his hand a soft pat, simultaneously offering a little tug along with her towards an open space. He might have asked her to dance, but she's taking a bit of lead herself, chatting amiably all the while. )

Are you having a nice time so far?

B, eyes emoji

[gunviolence]

[Aki does know this one. It was one of Himeno's favorites; really just an excuse to get her and Aki drunk quickly while teasing him at the same time, as it was with most of them, and somehow it always ended with Aki keeling over first. It wasn't a game Aki can say he enjoyed so much as tolerated.

It's a bittersweet association at best for that reason, and Aki's first instinct is to decline. But he's had a few drinks himself, and something about the place is putting him in a more agreeable mood, and maybe in a way it would be a way to honor her, wherever she is now. To show her he's capable of still living. (This is a lot of meaning to ascribe to a drinking game, but Aki is nothing if not broody when left alone with his thoughts.)

So he shrugs one shoulder and sidles across from Bigby, his own drink in his hand.]

Sure. You start.

HELLO

[enblightened]

Ah. Hm. Very well, then.

[Somehow, he didn't expect to be put on the spot like that. So it takes him a moment as he rubs his thumbs against the cup in his hands.]

I never... started a bar fight?

[gunviolence]

[Aki's all about getting to business, Bigby!! Regardless... he appears to be thinking about it.]

Define bar fight.

[Technically, he has fought in a bar.]

B.

[laminae]

[Fern is mainly sticking to the sodas tonight. While he can (and has) had beer, he knows alcohol in large quantities is utterly toxic to plants and he's trying to take it easy.]

Really? How do you play it?

[enblightened]

The rules are quite simple. I make a statement like I never have participated in a snowball fight or something like that. If it turns out everyone else has done that, they have a drink.

I am... told it is fun. But I rarely participate in these kinds of things.

A

[anagnorises]

[After his own turn on the talent show, Fakir had settled into people-watching easily enough. The effects of the Snake Den and his own blood won't keep him from socializing if anyone approaches, but for the moment, he's content.

The offer is something of a surprise. Both due to the contrast of the man's looks and his manners, and because, well-]

I only know ballet.

[Which is definitely not the style being used on the dance floor.]

[enblightened]

Which is exceptionally more skilled than anything I know, rest assured.

[Ah, another for ballet. Briefly, he wonders if this boy knows Ahiru? If not, they ought to sometime. He knows how badly Ahiru wishes to continue her lessons, after all.]

If you'd like, I can lead. I promise it is not a complicated step I know. If even I can manage it, you will follow with ease.

A

[survivalthroughhate]

[Maul's currently dressed up in a suit that fits his red-and-black complexion perfectly. With even a pair of red gloves for his hands, Maul actually likes the clothes he's in for once when usually he couldn't give a damn about what he's dressed in. Still, despite liking his clothes, he feels uneasy in The Snake Den. The Sith Lord isn't one much for "fun" in the usual sense of the word, so he's been hanging off to the edges of the gathering. There's no way he's going to get up on stage even if forced at gunpoint.

When he's approached, Maul's eyes go wide with surprise before a green tinge that's from his Vileblood comes to his face as he blushes. For once, the self-assured Zabrak has been caught off-guard.]

Ah.....I don't know how....

[He confesses. The first time he'd ever danced had been last year in the Grady Hotel in Deerington when his lover and now mate Reaper had gotten him out onto the dancefloor, taking charge so that Maul didn't have to do much more than shuffle his feet along. He hasn't seen the need to indulge since.]

[enblightened]

[An assuring smile forms on Bigby's face. Perhaps awhile ago, this man's appearance might have startled him, but he's become much more adapted to the possibilities of other worlds and realms. Besides, who is he to truly judge on an appearance, considering his own affairs?]

That's quite all right. It has been decades since I've last had the opportunity, so I will surely stumble as well.

Still, I should like to, if you are amendable.

☣️ SHEDDING

[enblightened]

A. what could have been (still a man)

Fascinating.

[One might not immediately recognize Bigby in Trench, for several reasons. For one, he lacks his usual scar on his head, no signs of burned flesh and a half-head of hair. No, here, he looks fairly normal. Rested. That, and he bears no chains on his person, wearing complete clothing.

It seems that shedding his skin brought about a possibility, that his cursed was never laid upon him. Instead, he is still who he was in life: a scientist, a man focused purely on using his skills to aid others.

And at the moment, he's observing the window of Peggy's Aid, looking enthralled by the prosthetics.]

And here I was thinking purely in practicality, but I can certainly see the merit in having something fashioned in aesthetic. A sense of personalization. Though I lack a hand in art, admittedly. Perhaps that is my folly?

Still -- this is such inspiration! I only wish I brought paper to write or draw on. How foolish of me.


B. oh, what rapture (the crimson curse)

[Once again, the skin has shed.

And once again, he does not wear his shackles, no rattling chains or padlocks to hold the abomination back. Yet, he does wear the old familiar clothes of his shroud and trousers, less in shame and more in ease. His scar is plain to see, yet he is different still, eyes red instead of the blighted green one might have known him to have. That, and the blood against his chin, both fresh and old clearly there.

When he smiles, there are needle-like teeth.

As if in mockery of the fine night of the Snakeden, he holds out his hand, fingers ending in wicked claws.]

Hmm. Might I steal you away for a dance?

☣️ A

[holyjudgmental]

[Junia is not one who would not know this man, as changed as he is. There are times, in the flickering of firelight, when a rare smile or a moment's peace has revealed him to her before. She has always looked away, and done her best to forget.

But here he is in the full light of the sun, and Junia's first, wild impulse is to throw her basket down and run. She had stopped only to frown at a leg that seemed, in its delicate refinement, an indecent thing to place in a shop window.]

I - [She shakes her head, her eyes wide, transfixed.] I have -

[She does not know what force moves her to proffer her basket instead, where she has secured a scant few rough sheets of paper.]

[enblightened]

If it is no trouble to you, Sister. How generous.

[One page is taken, and with a bit of charcoal in his fingers he does idly scribbly notes and draw what he sees with enthusiasm. The man Junia knows was always exhausted in some way, fighting against his own internal, horrible instincts just as hard as he would fight swinefolk and cultists.

This man is not troubled by such things, clearly.]

I must say, I did not expect see a member of the church here. Are you of the Light, or something else?

B 8)

[fusrodaaaah]

Hm?

[Oh hello Bigby. How nice to see you here. Strangely, the party atmosphere has helped tremendously with someone's nerves. Enough to where the local Argonian, dressed in his own suit, is lounging on a pile of pillows. Probably the most relaxed Melius Senyan has looked, ever, in his life.]

[He actually looks happy to see his friend, changed or not.]

Okay. But... I don't - know how.

[Ah, there's that old neurotic lizard.]

[enblightened]

Worry not about what you do not know. It is for our enjoyment, is it not?

[There is a part of him that holds the memories. That he should be aware of Melius, of who he is, and how he calls him friend. Yet, as Bigby is now, he is consumed by the curse and who he has shed into.

Someone so unlike him. Who enjoys himself, in all of the worst aspects.]

Let me guide you, Melius.

B

[hopticulture]

[the young woman he approaches has a drink in one hand, a youthful look about her, but when she looks up at him with eyes so dark it's impossible to tell where her iris ends and her pupil begins, she doesn't seem as young as she looks. she looks from his bright red eyes, down to his mouth and chin, noting the sharp teeth and the blood he hasn't seemed to wipe away.

Haru has no idea who this man is. but the drink and this new, much taller form (for her standing a neat 5' is a dream ok) gives her some confidence and takes the edge off the small rabbit-like whisper of fear at the back of her mind.

she knows better, but she's been in a bad mood ever since her fur and skin started shedding, and a dance sounds nice. her pale, delicate hand takes his carefully, paying mind to his claws.]

I hope you don't have bad intentions with me.

[enblightened]

You take a gamble if you are concerned with such things, my lady.

[As if he did not already have an appearance of something more sinister. His hand curls tight and he draws her close.

Despite it any manner of foreboding, he does indeed do as he says: he takes her to dance, a languid waltz.]

B!!

[unsheathedfromreality]

Only a dance, dear friend?

[To the unfamiliar observer, Illarion might seem much as he always is.

But the hand that grasps Bigby's is warm, warmer than human blood runs, and there's a sparkle in the shrike's eyes and a fullness to his face that hadn't ever been there before.

He is, for the time being, alive.]

Or might I be distracting with something more?

[This is a risk he's taking; he knew it was a risk the instant he fixed eyes on the other man's changed appearance. This shed is a dangerous one for someone ordinarily so gentle, so self-controlled, and there's no telling how or when that blood got there and whether Bigby would remember any of that when (don't think if) he shed back to himself again.

When you and everyone you loved were monsters, you learned to worry about these things, to play the fetching diversion from people who weren't so well-defended. So Illarion grips his friend's hand all the tighter and smiles wide and winsome to show his own fangs.]

[enblightened]

[For a moment through the Crimson Curse and his horrible instincts, he nearly freezes at the contact. That Illarion was suddenly so, so warm, so alive. It brings such a conflict of many things burning inside of the abomination as he yearns -- for his companionship, for his flesh, for his blood. Everything in him argues.

Once, for a moment, he falters, until the curse and beastliness takes him again.

Bigby pulls Illarion close as their hands clutch to one another.]

And what would you give me, songbird?