[ Despite being here a few months, Squalo had done a piss poor job at finding friends so far. To be fair, he wasn't really trying in the first place; despite everything he was still coming to terms to what happened to him and that he'd likely never walk free again, so he mostly wanted to be left alone. And he was pretty damn good at looking like he wanted to be left alone, which in addition to some of the rumors circling around did seem to keep most other inmates at bay. ]
[ Well, most. ]
[ He's looking a little more approachable today. He hasn't gotten assigned to any duties -- maybe it's for the best that he doesn't get his hands on any tools at all -- and mostly spends time lounging in his bunk, alone in his cell for now. It seems he's wandered out finally, maybe taking a while to finish his food at the canteen, chilling in the yard or half-heartedly flipping worn out magazines in the library. ]
[ He doesn't even look threatening when he spots you looking at him. At this point he's used to his hair attracting attention. ]
[ The city sounds and life always seem just a little bit of reach, and trying to listen to any conversations, even if knowing the language, will reveal it to be incomprehensible. The streets are strangely empty, with a sense of foreboding looming heavy. The ocean and the warehouse are always within reach, however. Take a walk in a strange blue tunnel, or try to repair one of those motorbike engines laying around. There might be some beers in the fridge and some guns tucked in unexpected areas. It almost feels homey, at least until you wander upon that blood-stained carpet or the garland of corpse parts strung up in the attic. ]
[ Squalo can be found in any part of the domain, though he looks very out of sorts. Actually, you've probably never seen him scared, and now he is. He wanders aimlessly just to stay moving and keeps trying to reach the people or the busy streets, but as soon as he's within reach it all seems to turn into decorations or seemingly move further away like a sliding scale. ]
[ He's not taking it well. ]
-- 03.
[ Well, he's utterly freaked out by the weird dream he had last night... and yes, you guessed right, he's refusing to sleep. It's all fun and games the first day or two, but going on, he looks fucking awful. There's bags under his eyes, he keeps bumping into things when walking and nearly faceplants into his breakfast, clearly exhausted. ]
[ He's a lot more bothered by the fact that he's clearly going to pass out soon regardless of his willpower, though. At some point you might find him sitting on his bunk, rocking back and forth and staring in front of himself. He'll likely snap at a moment's notice if approached or addressed, but maybe you can talk some sense into him. ]
-- 04.
[ open to anything else too! hit me up or check out my plotting posts c: ]
Squalo
[ Despite being here a few months, Squalo had done a piss poor job at finding friends so far. To be fair, he wasn't really trying in the first place; despite everything he was still coming to terms to what happened to him and that he'd likely never walk free again, so he mostly wanted to be left alone. And he was pretty damn good at looking like he wanted to be left alone, which in addition to some of the rumors circling around did seem to keep most other inmates at bay. ]
[ Well, most. ]
[ He's looking a little more approachable today. He hasn't gotten assigned to any duties -- maybe it's for the best that he doesn't get his hands on any tools at all -- and mostly spends time lounging in his bunk, alone in his cell for now. It seems he's wandered out finally, maybe taking a while to finish his food at the canteen, chilling in the yard or half-heartedly flipping worn out magazines in the library. ]
[ He doesn't even look threatening when he spots you looking at him. At this point he's used to his hair attracting attention. ]
What?
-- 02.
[ Welcome to Palermo. ]
[ Or a twisted, mirrorhouse, flooded version of Palermo, anyway. ]
[ The city sounds and life always seem just a little bit of reach, and trying to listen to any conversations, even if knowing the language, will reveal it to be incomprehensible. The streets are strangely empty, with a sense of foreboding looming heavy. The ocean and the warehouse are always within reach, however. Take a walk in a strange blue tunnel, or try to repair one of those motorbike engines laying around. There might be some beers in the fridge and some guns tucked in unexpected areas. It almost feels homey, at least until you wander upon that blood-stained carpet or the garland of corpse parts strung up in the attic. ]
[ Squalo can be found in any part of the domain, though he looks very out of sorts. Actually, you've probably never seen him scared, and now he is. He wanders aimlessly just to stay moving and keeps trying to reach the people or the busy streets, but as soon as he's within reach it all seems to turn into decorations or seemingly move further away like a sliding scale. ]
[ He's not taking it well. ]
-- 03.
[ Well, he's utterly freaked out by the weird dream he had last night... and yes, you guessed right, he's refusing to sleep. It's all fun and games the first day or two, but going on, he looks fucking awful. There's bags under his eyes, he keeps bumping into things when walking and nearly faceplants into his breakfast, clearly exhausted. ]
[ He's a lot more bothered by the fact that he's clearly going to pass out soon regardless of his willpower, though. At some point you might find him sitting on his bunk, rocking back and forth and staring in front of himself. He'll likely snap at a moment's notice if approached or addressed, but maybe you can talk some sense into him. ]
-- 04.
[ open to anything else too! hit me up or check out my plotting posts c: ]