it's a dangerous business, going out your door. @samuel--wise-blog - Tumblr Blog

oopsxdaphne:

She was offbeat. Completely offbeat. But she was feeling it. Her body moved and swayed all over the place, the blaring music drowning out everything else. No one mattered. Nothing mattered. Daphne was fucking losing herself and she couldn’t be happier. Not even if she tried. It felt as though for the first time in her life, she was free to be whatever she wanted and it felt right. Hell, she’d been gifted this body for only two days and she already felt more like herself than she had in a full twenty-one years of being trapped in her other body. Pausing as the music shifted, the female attempted to catch her breath. Beads of sweat frecked her nose and caused her dark hair to stick to her neck. Fanning herself with her hand, she began making her way through the small crowd of bodies towards the bar. Leaning forward she rested against the bartop, waving her free hand in an attempt to catch the bartenders attention. Glancing sideways, she slowly turned her head to take in the person beside her. “Yo!” She called over the pounding beat. “You want a drink?” She was feeling generous tonight, plus, they looked like they could use it.

Sam had been having a hell of a time. His parents seemed to have bought ‘impromptu camping trip’ as a reasonable excuse for his seeming disappearance, and he’d stopped by home when he knew they’d both be at work to pick up some of his stuff---only to find that most of his clothes didn’t really fit that well. He had broader shoulders, and biceps, and his legs were frankly embarrassing if he tried to wear any of his old pants---everything became skin-tight and it wasn’t a look he was fond of. Which meant he was wearing borrowed clothes---though Noah’s shirt was still uncomfortably tight.

Worse than that, however, was that he just didn’t know what to say to anyone. Magic was fucking real, and the way he’d found out about it was this? It was some kind of sick joke. He didn’t want to hang out anywhere he’d normally be seen, or have to talk to anyone he knew. So he’d searched out, of all places, a club. Adding insult to injury, they hadn’t even asked for his ID, for the first time in his life, and he couldn’t even properly enjoy it.

He was sulking over the dregs of drink that he didn’t even like, when a girl swooped over from the dance floor and offered to get him another one. Sam didn’t know what to do in this scenario, except to shrug. “Sure, why not.” At least she wasn’t someone he knew. “What’s the worst that could happen,” he added, dryly. It’d been the same thing he’d said the night of the party at the Polis, so.

#c:daphne2 #{ daphne }

noahxromero:

Alarmed, Noah thought mildly, was a pretty obvious understatement. He’d seen Sam all over the map in terms of enthusiasm and freak-out, or so he’d thought. But the way his tone climbed and fell seemed to be more indicative of his friend’s mood than his new body’s vocal range. “I get that,” he said, words slowing down as he took a turn around the room to start collecting himself to go out. There had to be a way, he figured, to calmly ease Sam into reality. That lifetime of gaslighting was really looming over the pair of them right now. “You’re not dying, so we can take a step back and appreciate the fact that we’re alive and we’re relatively intact. And then we can go. “Because,” he turned back to Sam while tugging a hoodie over his now long arms and raising one finger to stem the damn attitude. “We’re in, like, a cheesy movie right now. And when you’ve got supernatural hijinks, you should obviously seek out the weirdest place in town to solve your problem.” This sounded like shit. Noah moved towards Sam in the hopes that he could get through his own bedroom door, breath hissing between his teeth. “God, I think this body might actually get hungover.” Which was an overshare, and one he didn’t feel was a fantastic jumping off point to the whole werewolf thing. Not very suave at all.

He wanted to shout, how do you know I’m not dying---but he was beginning to suspect that Noah knew a whole lot more about what was going on than he was letting on. It did help to phrase it as though they’d fallen through a crack in reality, honestly, the cheesy movie analogy helped Sam calm down just a little bit. He’d always imagined if he did get sucked into a crazy, unearthly situation, that he’d somehow step up, and be a little more cool-headed about it than this. Except usually in those scenarios, the characters had someone around who could give a helpful explanation as to what exactly was going on, and Noah’s answer right now was to go to a store that sold actual rocks at ridiculous prices.

“Is the Cat’s Eye really the weirdest place in town though?” he asked, though he didn’t have an alternative suggestion. He just needed to take a minute... and think it through... “Or---what if it’s just about us, and we were targeted for some reason? Should---should we really be going out, showing our faces? Or, not our faces, but---” He suddenly blanched. “Oh my god.” He sat down heavily on Noah’s bed, head dropping into his hands. “What do I tell my mum---how do I explain looking like this---I can’t go home.” Panic took over again. “Noah, we really need to fix this.”

#c:noah1 #{ noah }

taran-egerton

#.ex #{ identity crisis }

esthetismes

#.ex #{ identity crisis }

noahxromero:

Sam swung and it went wide, and Noah realized that if the punch had connected it might have actually hurt. He was beefy now. Sam voiced the same sentiment at max volume, inviting Noah to wince before his head tilted to the side. “Yeah? Shut up, I’ve got a neck tattoo,” he shot back, displaying the idiotic thing for a moment or two before righting his head again. “It’s like this dude never wants to have a real job in his life… And, uh, I think I’m calm because I’m really hungover?” The response was posed as a hopeful question, but not even Noah was convinced. He ignored the easiest question to answer because it had the most repercussions that the werewolf really wasn’t ready to deal with. “Guess we’ll just have to knock down the Cats Eye’s door until someone sets us straight,” he sighed. Noah moved towards his dresser and stopped abruptly. He had wanted to get dressed but realized mid-step that none of his everyday clothes were going to fit right. So he was going to be stuck in sweats like this. How unprofessional. “Life is a nightmare,” Noah grumbled, flipping the loose hair off his forehead with one palm.

“I might not look it, with the new face and all I don’t know if you can tell---but I am alarmed. Okay? Are you getting that? This is not normal, this is like, some serious sci fi bullshit, Noah.” His heartbeat was ringing in his ears, and if anything, he was feeling that reflexive punch impulse merging into an actual desire to punch Noah right in his tattoo’d neck for being so... fine, actually. Like, he wasn’t screaming. Sam was, on the inside.

And the plan he came up with was confusing, and shit. “The Cat’s Eye? Your solution, for actual body swapping, is to go to a fucking occult shop?” He was getting truly irate now. “You gonna buy some tarot cards to get the answer to this? Really?” He made an unintelligible noise of irritation and anger in his throat---no words, just a growl of frustration. “I’m gonna call the fucking police, or something. Maybe the CDC, get myself under a microscope so they can stop whatever alien crap is going on with me, personally. That’s where I’m at.”

#c:noah1 #{ noah }

wonderlandinmymind

#.ex #{ identity crisis }#//awkward explaining sam is eternal

noahxromero:

Noah had been dealing with the aftermath of the Polis for quite some time now. Thanks to werewolf genes he’d handled the alcohol part of the night with relative ease. It wasn’t until he’d gotten out of bed to feel disoriented by the height? An unfamiliar sensation for sure, so he and his limbs that limbs felt too gangly lumbered into the bathroom growing more alarmed by the second. He leaned sharply forward to be nearly nose to nose to the mirror: different face, different body… God, there was even a neck tattoo. Noah leaned away from his reflection with disgust. He should’ve known better than to go to the Polis of all places. And Gamgee, too– Oh, no. Sam. Squinting against the impending headache that took precedence instead of overwhelming panic. They’d live and this magic was most likely reversible. Made no sense to freak out, until he was faced with something like Sam figuring out Castor was weird. Like, weirder than Austin. Noah snuck out of his room and downstairs to where Sam had ended up last night, and found an entirely new person sprawled there, smelling like a very hungover Sam. Turning sharply on his heel, Noah crept soundlessly back into his room. He sat on the end of his bed, weighing out excuses, versus explanations, repeatedly getting sidetracked by the outright glares he kept sending his own neck tattoo. Before he’d had enough time to sort anything out, Sam was pounding on his door and Noah had no choice but to deal with it. “I don’t think you look that bad,” he began, opening his door and stepping prudently back. He couldn’t help the fact that commiserating about new bodies temporarily replaced the guilty suspicion that he had to try to gaslight the shit out of Sam. “I’m over here like a backup dancer for Grease. Or Sons of Anarchy.”

Noah’s door swung open, and a complete stranger greeted Sam. His body reacted first, and he yelled, and swung wildly at---at Noah, he realized, belatedly. Luckily, his friend seemed to have anticipated this reaction, and stepped back. Why the fuck did Noah look like---why did Sam look like---

He stood there in shock, his arm dropping back to his side. “What. The bloody fuck. Is going on. How is this even possible---what the FUCK, Noah?” For some reason, he was getting angry at him---or at the situation, maybe, or at just being confused beyond all belief. “How are you so calm? And what do you mean, I don’t look bad? I look like a fucking rugby player, you twat,” he shouted, the last of his cool evaporating in a flash.

#c:noah1 #{ noah }

@noahxromero

The night after the Polis party---where he’d been dragged with minimal complaining, to his great credit, Sam woke up on Noah’s sofa feeling dreadful. He’d had a fair amount to drink, but not enough to warrant a hangover this bad---he pulled back the blankets and drearily untangled himself. Even his vision was a little blurry.

Noah didn’t seem to be up yet, or at least there wasn’t much noise. He wandered to the kitchen and began to search for coffee. It wasn’t until he rubbed his face that he realized---stubble. What the fuck? On his chin, no less, not just the baby hairs above his lip. Confused, he wandered to the washroom.

And stood there, staring at a face that wasn’t his.

After a few moments of prodding, and his brain pulling a flatline, he charged to Noah’s room, and pounded on the door. “Noah---Noah!! Wake up, holy hell---get out here! Something’s---something’s happened to me! Something terrible---” His voice sounded different in his ears, alarming him even further.

#c:noah1 #{ noah }

angelic-breeze-deactivated20191

#.ex #{ identity crisis }

tannasuelamey:

Tanna grinned widely, excited that she had found the right person. She offered her hand out for them to shake. “It’s lovely to meet you! I’m glad I’m at the right place, I’m still trying to figure this place out.” She giggled.

Tanna nodded quickly, shoving her hands into her jean pockets as she listened to him. “Yeah! I thought it’d be a fun way to meet people, plus I love adventure type things.” She explained. Listening to him talk she couldn’t help the fountain of giggles that bubbled out of her. “Does my name make me sound that old, or is it because of the radio show?” She asked with a small snort. “Sometimes the sun burns me up, and sometimes I wear vintage clothes…maybe I am an old person?” She said to him with a mock gasp.

With a grin she gestured towards the building a little walks away still. “Have you ever done one of these before? I haven’t, I hadn’t even heard of an escape room. Do you think they have zombies?”

He took her hand and shook it, feeling awkward that he hadn’t done that---but she was smiling, so it must be fine. Made him feel a little more at ease and less like he might be the subject of some prank show. “Yeah, I’ve been in this complex a couple times for lazer tag, but never for this, so...”

Sam found himself grinning, too. “It’s an unusual name, don’t think I’ve heard it before today.” Buying old clothes and burning in sunlight--- looking at her pale skin, he could suppose she probably got as bad sunburns as he did. “Guess that does make you either old, or a hipster---or possibly British,” he confessed. “I shouldn’t rag on anyone wearing a costume if they enjoy it,” he added. “But I don’t really get the whole vampires-and-monsters thing this town seems to go in for---some people are really serious about it, like deadly serious---” He ducked his head. “Terrible pun, totally unintentional.”

Checking over to where she pointed, Sam shook his head. “No, never tried the escape room, but it sounds fun? I think they put us with a group, but if there are zombies, more people just improves our chances of survival, right?” he offered cheerily.

#c:tanna1 #{ tanna }

tannasuelamey:

This was soo exciting for Tanna. She loved all the chances she had to meet new people and this radio meet up thing was the perfect opportunity. She knew the place and the name of the person and that was it. She saw a few people standing around, alone or with someone else. Tanna had no idea who was who or who was the person she was looking for. Chewing on her lip she bounced on her toes looking around for someone who could be Sam.

That in itself was exciting, was sam a boy or a girl? Or something in between? She had no clue who she was supposed to be, her dainty hands pulling at her long hair as she hoped for some kind of sign.

Tanna perked when she heard something that sounded like her name. Whipping around she saw a boy talking to a blonde who quickly left him alone. Walking over Tanna leaned to her side slightly.

“Um…hello? Are you looking for a Tanna?” She asked with a big wide grin. “I’m Tanna…are you Sam?”

He turned around at the sound of a voice and came face to face with an exceptionally pretty girl. “Oh---you’re. Um, yeah, I’m Sam. It’s nice to meet you.”

Like really, disarmingly pretty---too pretty for random stupid radio set-ups---was this a trap, set by his friends, maybe? It felt a little like it could be. But he wasn’t going to be rude to her, just... mildly suspicious of the circumstance.

“You’re here because of the radio show thing?” he asked, realizing belatedly that double checking this when she already knew his name, and was here, was borderline idiotic. “It’s just, you don’t look like what I think of when I imagine a fan of that show, is all,” he explained, hurriedly. “You look, like, normal... In a good way. I was sorta expecting someone in Victorian garb who legitimately thinks the sunlight’ll burn them up...”

#c:tanna1 #{ tanna }

elixhowls-deactivated20260329

@samuel–wise

#---by daphne #//sitting still for art class like a pro #proud of you stalker #<3

Sam was already wondering what madness had possessed him, letting Vic fill out that radio show quiz for him. He’d tried to convince himself that he didn’t have to actually come here, on the day, but he wasn’t evil---he couldn’t just stand someone up, even if he was absolutely certain he was going to regret this.

And maybe... get stood up, himself? So far, all he had was the name---Tanna---and no descriptor. He spotted a blonde girl around his age who was by herself, and went over to her.

“Excuse me---are you Tanna?”

She looked up from her phone and frowned at him. “No.”

“Oh.” He paused, and swore in his head, before adding. “I mean, if you were Tanna and just didn’t want to admit it once you saw me---” he said as an attempt at a joke.

“Uh, no---we don’t have that word, here, sorry. I think it’s an Australian thing.” She lifted the phone to her ear, and walked off, leaving Sam alone, muttering to himself as he studied the floor tiles. “A person, actually, not an expression, and... and not Australian...”

@tannasuelamey

#c:tanna1 #{ tanna }

victoriaxhassan:

Her smile shifted from encouraging to downright amused. “I know, I know. But one day you might. Spend a little more time with Cosmo than Noah, and some of it might rub off.” Sam really wasn’t what anyone but Vic would consider cool– so prudent and even a little prickly sometimes, he was basically already forty years old with a mortgage and chronic back pain. But she understood his parameters just fine. ‘Too Much’ was definitely a threshold she could cross with no regard for others whatsoever. Which set off the line of dominoes in her mind that connected Doing the Most with Samuel Wise: Comic Geek Extraordinaire. “You got it, babe,”she informed him, whipping her phone out. “In not gift-related news, have you heard that The Phantom Times is offering a dating service now? Lux is funny and we’re totally doing it.” We being herself and Sam, obviously. What else did they have to occupy their time?

Sam rolled his eyes heavily at mention of the radio show. Yeah, in a way it was like Castor’s own Welcome to Nightvale---with none of the humour, an obnoxious host, and way too much attention given by people in his friend group. He had listened once for a grand total of two minutes, and decided it wasn’t for him---it was sorta clever, maybe, just not something he got excited about. “She’s something, dunno if I’d go with funny, but sure---” He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “A dating service? Why on earth would I want to do anything remotely like that...” But then he sighed, seeing her eager grin, which he was totally defenseless against. “Whatever. As long as I don’t have to take it seriously, and can sabotage every question...” And as long as it meant he got to hang out with Vic, and see her happy, really. It was worth it.

#c:vic1 #{ vic }#---end.#!!#:P #:D #<3 #all the faces #got overcome with love of vic while tagging i'm sorry

casperjn:

“But, either way you’d be really cool - have you not watched Sam Riegel play a bard on Critical Role?” she tilted her head slightly in response, raising her eyebrows. Casper shook her head, “I stand by my sentiment. You’re far from irrelevancy.” She appreciated the people in her life - and it wasn’t the hardest thing to figure out but she had a tendency to not exactly admit it aloud usually. Maybe she should consider doing it more - though that also meant being more openly emotionally vulnerable. Which, she would rather not do if she could. So she followed suit instead with ordering her food.