andyougoleft: (Professional: Lean)
CONTACT METHOD: surfaceshine on AIM or Plurk; PM and email (surfaceshine @ work but not as well
THREAD-JACKING: Please do this as often as possible
FOURTH WALLING / CANON PUNCTURE: I'm fine with whatever.  Slevin probably won't believe you anyway.
BACKTAGGING: I will backtag into infinity and beyond.  You should too.


Oct. 15th, 2030 11:00 pm
andyougoleft: (Professional: Baby Boy)
tell me i'm a bad man, kick me like a stray

S L E V I N       K E L E V R A
andyougoleft: (Professional: Suit)
     Struck from a great height by someone who should know better than that )

     [ Video : CR ]

     [So, after his former warden basically punks him out, this is an awkward conversation.  He's the most serious many will have seen him without actually being pissed off, and clearly uncomfortable.]

     So.  I know I've been a prick, and I'm still a prick.  I know I should have something profound to say here, but I don't.  Just... thanks.

     I'm going home.

andyougoleft: (Smiling: What're You Gonna Do?)
     [ Public ]

     [Not much fazes Slevin when he gets a chance to prepare; the Barge has been home to a great number of the things in this category, of course, but he's also made of pretty solid stuff and, given the variety of things to knock him on his heels, he thinks he's done fairly well.  He's certainly managed to dodge two of these, but now he knows what he's in for.  He knows exactly what he's in for.

     When the feed clicks on he's carding his fingers through his hair, which is still sticking up in strange directions regardless, which is the only nervous fidget he allows himself.  Other than that he looks cocksure as always, and he's smiling.

     To give me to someone I don't belong to is cowardly, but to take me is noble.  I can be a game, but there are no winners.  What am I?

    [OOC: This is Slevin's Fourth Wall Post.  All comers welcome!]
andyougoleft: (Thoughtful: Window)
     [ Public ]

     So, I've seen how these sorts of questions go over around here.  I know I'm opening myself up to a lot of troll answers, and angry defensiveness, and cagey suspicion, and this is me saying I'm okay with whatever comes my way.  Bring it on.  Because at least one of you is going to give me a straight answer, and I guess...

     [Slevin is sitting in his room talking to the communicator, toying with something in his hands.  It flashes gold just at the edge of the view screen when he hesitates to look down at it, takes a breath, continues anyway:]

     I guess that's what I need.  Just one.  So: what was the worst thing you ever lost?

     And how did you decide to handle it?  

     [ Private : Chris D'Amico ]

     You were right.  I'm an asshole, but I can at least admit when I made a mistake.

andyougoleft: (Talking: Shock)
     [ Public (Minus Imaginary Goodkat) ]

     [The communicator feed fumbles on, and it's.  Dark.  Okay.  There's someone breathing in a faintly labored way nearby, and then Slevin's voice, high and tight with comical levels of panic.]

     I have to get out of here.  Now.  Redemption doesn't do a damn thing for a guy that's dead, and I don't know what game you assholes are playing at even letting him on board while I'm still here?  But I'm not buying in.  Help me hide or help me leave I don't care, but I can't be here.  I can't.

    Jesus.  [He goes absolutely still for a moment, holding his breath, but there's nothing to hear.]

     [ Private : Chris D'Amico ]

     [So, naturally, a private connection and an accusatory hiss:]  When the fuck were you going to tell me he's here?!  After he put a bullet between my eyes?!

     [ Spam ]

     [And so goes the great unwinnable game of hide and seek, because Slevin is running away from someone who isn't there.  The problem is he's very good at hiding, and good at getting into unlikely places, so the passengers of the Barge may find themselves a scared witless assassin in the most unexpected places.  Like behind your shower curtain, in a closet, under your bed, or falling out of the ceiling tiles.]

     Now with double duty: post-flood messages for Harvey and Cassel )

     [OOC: Slevin is affected for the Grand Oxymoronic flood.  He thinks Goodkat is here and out to get him.  Going for comedy over trauma here, despite the inherent terrifying properties of creeper Bruce Willis.]

andyougoleft: (Thoughtful: Broken Nose)
     [ Open Spam : Previously through Day One ]

     Why should I have to wait )

     [ Open Spam : May 10-13 ]

     I'll just look the other way )

     [ Public : Video : Last Day of Port ]

     [The camera is focused on a long-range shot of what will turn out to be an oblivious Chris D'Amico, down on the planet with the Barge visible in the background.  It's zoomed in as close as it can, and there's someone breathing from behind it, the sound of footsteps in the sand and rock, and then Slevin's voice from off frame - rough, but calm and clear.]

     Wardens, I know none of you aren't very good at taking the hint.  But take the hint, take the loss, and go home.

     [There's a click, and a quiet whip of air, a telltale zing for those who are unfortunate enough to know what bullets sound like.  On the camera, Chris jerks and falls over into a heap,  The communicator keeps rolling to push the point home: Slevin got his hands on a sniper rifle, and he's free on the planet.]

     This is ours now.  You can keep your ship.  I don't miss.  [This last sneered.  Just a fact, not a challenge.]  [And then the scrambling of movement when the heap of black and red leather that is Chris looks like it begins to move just before the feed cuts out.]

     [OOC: Affected Mirror Inmate Slevin along with his tiny murder shadow Mindy will be fucking up any wardens they find on the ground, and he'll be setting up other sniper spots if you want to encounter him.  Just let me know what you want and we'll see what we can do!]
andyougoleft: (Professional: Baby Boy)
     [ Private : Chris D'Amico : Backdated to the day after the event end ]

     [Slevin does not report for breakfast as everything settles; he just doesn't feel like being around anyone.  But Chris has been antsy about his disappearing acts lately and while he might be able to finagle a pass on this with everything that happened, there's just as good a chance that might seal the deal on guaranteeing he sees his warden today.  When possible, Slevin prefers to deal in absolutes: so a few hours after the missed meal period, he takes himself to the only commonly accessible place he's never seen anyone frequent out of a whim - the chapel - and opens a private feed.]

     I killed someone.

     [ Private : Iris Wildthyme and Barbara Gordon, Separately : A few days after event end  ]

     I did try to get back to you in time.  It just didn't work out that way.

     [ Open Spam ]

     [Slevin spends more time than he would readily admit to in the infirmary; his excuse is legitimate, he has several wounds that Sylvanas gave him that require attention, but he pays more attention than required to the people in the other beds.  He avoids Sylvanas's immediately, not out of shame but out of some convoluted certainty that she might have something to say to him, but it will definitely wait until she's back on her feet and able to strike him down if it comes at all.  He won't really blame her, and he won't be any more angry with her than he is with anyone else if she does.

     The truth is he doesn't know what to expect, if anyone that knows he was involved with the takedown of the Emperor will react to him at all; it's not in his nature to advertise his part.  He just stays quiet, keeps his head down, and waits to see what will happen; he is, after all, well acquainted with the role of traitor.

andyougoleft: (Angry: Blank)
     [ Public ]

     [Slevin is not normally someone who smokes, so he doesn't have any cigarettes laying around; it's a terrible habit to get into, Goodkat had always maintained, because it's an addiction, a handle, a weakness.  He still used it for the same thing teenagers everywhere use it for, and in retrospect Goodkat had been shockingly tolerant of that, but the end result is the same.  He's chewing on the end of a pencil, looking thoughtfully at something on the table in front of him in his badly decorated room.  When he goes to speak, he taps the tabletop with the pencil instead, agitated.]

    Okay, Barge, here's the poll: does it count.  Does what happens when we're not ourselves carry over to when we are? 

    [He means to stop there, he really does; but his temper is seething, ice-cold and dangerous, beneath his skin and he's always been a little reckless.  Nurture can only take so much of nature out of the equation.]

     Because how do we know it's true?  It's brainwashing, quite literally, and I know there's no promise in the mission statement that this won't happen, that that's not what this place is about, but there's an impressive amount of apathy towards it.  Justification.  It doesn't matter, I guess, as long as the end result is acceptable.  Means to an end.

    But guess what.  I'm not into self-fulfilling prophecies.  I'm not down for the philosophical version of a Get Along Shirt.  End of story.

     Gym Spam for Cassel primarily but anyone that wants a fight, plus private message for Chris )
andyougoleft: (Angry: :|)
     [ Public ]

     [Well.  Slevin said he was going to chuck this thing overboard, and one can be certain it will be happening after this flood is over, but by this point in the flood odd behavior isn't out of place.  What might be out of place is a 6'4" normally standoffish young American assassin suddenly wandering around in a red and tan spandex superhero suit and mask, a rather lewd emblem on its chest, and speaking in a British accent when he flips on the feed to address the network.

    That's right.  The Revenge Boner is on duty.  This is absolutely being deleted after the flood is over.

     Why doesn't there ever seem to be any fucking balance in this place?  Isn't that kind of what it's about, balancing karma and shitty deeds and every other goddamn thing under the sun, but the Admiral can't fucking figure out how to drive this shitbird?  It's always pantswetting, actually legitimately torturous terror or absolutely fucking harmless.

     [And now he's yelling at the ceiling.  Oh good.]

     How about some goddamn moderation!

     Valentines for Chris, Mindy, Kylar, Francis, Cassel, and Kara )

andyougoleft: (Damage: Dazed)
     Spam for Hannibal )

     [ Private to Chris D'Amico : Video : Later ]

     [Chris has seen Slevin go distant and detached a few times now; this is slightly different, but related.  He looks confused as well when he comes on the screen, and he's staring at something out of frame, something on the floor, expectantly; he's in a dark room that is not his.  A few moments of stillness, of silence, and then Slevin speaks in a voice matching his expression, still without looking.]

     Chris, I.

     I think I may have made a mistake.

     [ Zero Spam : OPEN ]

     [Slevin was expecting to be spending some time in a cell in Zero when he started this.  It's a price he's willing to pay, for what he'd expected to gain from it.

     Maybe he was right.  Maybe he was wrong.  It's difficult to tell from where he's settled on the cot in the cell, leaned back against the bars, feet crossed on the bed and arms folded over his chest, sitting quietly in thought.  It is, now, a waiting game.
andyougoleft: (Talking: Mustache???)
     [ Public ]

     [Slevin is back in his cabin; he looks... vaguely threatened, but only because he found this in his closet.  It blinks white and blue and green and red reflecting off his face even when he lowers it to address the network.]

     Biological terrorist attack, word salad, and cruel and unusual wardrobe punishment aside - and I'm not wearing this, by the way, ever - there's supposed to be a religious aspect to this time of year.  I'm not even going to pick one, I just haven't seen that part of it addressed.

     Is anyone planning on holding any kind of service?  Doesn't matter what denomination or even religion, really.  Can anyone?

    Private to Cassel and the Admiral )
andyougoleft: (Damage: Bloody)
     [ Public Backdated to about fifteen minutes after the Barge goes back to normal ]

     -at the fuck is wrong with everyone here!?

     [The feed clicks on halfway through the beginning of what is unmistakably some form of hysterics.  Not high and thin, no, but out of control, without restraint.  He's fumbling with the communicator, hands shaky and slick with something that smears across the screen, not that it will be much of a surprise to anyone after what just happened.]

     What the fuck is wrong with this place!?  Who does this?!  Who fucking stays here?  You're all insane!  You're all fucking psychotic!  Jesus... !

     [He finally gets it clicked off, but not before his unsteady efforts have given a good view of the tableau: it's Slevin, a generous amount of blood smeared down both sides of his face, his nose, blooming into the neck of his t-shirt, pale and wide-eyed and saturated with adrenaline.  He's in Chris's cabin on level eight, and Chris himself is in a heap on the floor behind him; in the corner is a misshapen, nightmare creature that will eventually turn out to be Cassel, though it's not recognizable as such.

     He bolts from the room, an outmatched predator fleeing mindlessly.

     [OOC: Replies will come back delayed after he calms down; this can be open spam, too, but depending on how soon after the initial message he might attack and/or shoot someone.  CW that responses to this post may contain reference to torture, gore, and body horrors.]

andyougoleft: (Misc: Car Window)
    [ Open Spam ]

     Take me to the pain and all the way back again. )

     [ Public ]

     [Late in the morning on the second day, with Slevin hidden somewhere other than his cabin on the Barge, his communicator clicks on and he says a single, clipped word to the network:


     [And he waits.]

andyougoleft: (Misc: Laid Out)
     [ Infirmary Spam: Initially for Chris D'Amico, OPEN Later ]

     [OOC: Following this thread and this post.  CW for eyesquick, gore, and potentially cannibalism in this post and the previously linked posts.]

     Well, I know a thing about contrition because I got a lot to spare. )

     [ Filtered to Inmates : The Next Day ]

     [It's difficult to make a transmission from the infirmary, what with being in the bed beside his warden, and with the other people attached to Chris hovering around.  But it's important that he does it as soon as he can lest he appear weak to whoever did this, and it's important to use video, so he does find the time, takes the opportunity the moment he has it.  He keeps his voice low, and though he's paler than usual, his dark eyes are bright and steady.  This is not the grinning, smarmy man the Barge as a whole has seen thus far.]

     My name is not Slevin Kelevra, but it's the only name that matters to anyone here.  Back home, I'm an assassin.  It's probably what landed me as an inmate.  I kill people for money, but money's no good here, so here's the deal: I kill for whoever has been killed, now.  You contact me when you can speak through the death toll, or when your friend or warden or inmate or whatever has been moved to the infirmary, and I'm on the job and you're out of it as far as I'm concerned.

     Warden or inmate, I don't care.  That's it.  That's the deal.
andyougoleft: (Smiling: Goofball)
     [ Public ]

     So I'm sure someone asks this question pretty regularly, but unless or until someone can locate the black hole swallowing up passengers and spitting out new ones, we might as well talk: what are the going theories for where people go and why?

    And why haven't we made a gameshow out of it yet?

     [ Private to people Slevin shared memories with, Seperately : Backdated to the morning after the flood ]

     [Slevin's smile is somewhat sheepish, and there's no trace of the businesslike man from the memories, nor the angry, hate-filled boy.  He's just gotten dressed for the day and his damp hair is still sticking up in all sorts of directions from pulling his dark blue acrylic-wool sweater on over his head.  He paws at it ineffectively as he talks.]

      So.  Sorry about that.  I guess I watch WAY too many movies or something.

andyougoleft: (Angry: Shut Your Face)
     [ Public ]

     [It takes a full day for him to really give in to the fact that he's in over his head.  He doesn't have any allies, there are too many threats out here, and he has no clue what he's doing.  Various people have been offering help over the network but he's just not sure which to take up on them, and he can't get rid of the creeping discomfort that dogs his heels as he tries to make sense of the caves.

     In short, he's lost, and he's hungry, and his clothes are still damp from the rainy part of the storm he got caught outside in this morning.  He's still careful not to show how upset he actually is about this turn of events, and no one around here has really had time to establish a "norm" for him yet, but he's not smiling and he's more visibly annoyed than he has been so far.  It's dark, wherever he is, except for some sunlight threading in through a crack high enough above him that he can't reach.

     Alright, here's a question for you: everyone's being very industrious between the repairs and the survival camps and the grudgematches, but how do I find my way out of a cave no one is familiar with?

     I've got no clue where I am, but the first person with the right answer gets the benefit of a very grateful pair of eyes watching their back.
andyougoleft: (Smug: You Can Only Kill Me Once)
[He's done the reading, and he's stayed under the radar as much as he can, which hasn't proven too difficult. He knows how to not look suspicious, knows how to dig in and do his research.

So it's a young man with what looks like a broken nose that's a couple days old, and a somewhat embarrassed, baffled smile that flips on the video and tries uncertainly:

     Um. Hi. I think there's been some kind of mistake? Can someone tell me how to get back to New Jersey?  I mean, I love what all has been done with the place, very Master and Commander meets Alcatraz, but I draw the line at homicidal Norwegians in the hallways.  I have a low tolerance for blood loss.
andyougoleft: (Professional: Bad Dog)
(Probably not necessary, but uh.  Spoilers throughout the application for Lucky Number Slevin.)

User Name/Nick:
User DW: N/A
AIM/IM:  surfaceshine
E-mail: surfaceshine @
Other Characters:  Dean Winchester ([personal profile] surfaceshine ) and Ben/X5-493 ([personal profile] warisart )

Take your time, wait your turn, then hang them up and out to dry. )


andyougoleft: (Default)
Slevin Kelevra

September 2014

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