george shinjiro carr by

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:32:24 UTC

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:35:02 UTC

✿ george shinjiro carr | hermes | psychopomp | charlie | ~~ezume uchiumi~~

✿ 18/09/1992 | new york, usa

✿ fisherman

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:38:28 UTC

✿ very dark brown hair, appears black most of the time, long and unkempt

✿ dark brown eyes, large and slightly uneven, prominent bags give him a look of constant tire/lack of sleep

✿ shaved more often than not; at most, may sport a goatee or five o'clock shadow, now and then. thick brows. slightly curved/downturned nose. plumb, underfined lips, mostly straight teeth. tall cheekbones. one piercing on each earlobe

✿ constantly wears oversized clothing. 1.73 m. several tattoos, as pictured + outline of a cat on his left wrist

✿ deep, low-range. natural and noticeable vocal fry due to years of smoking. neither loud nor quiet. stutters when he is nervous, uncomfortable or has too many co-occurring thoughts. stutters for no reason, too

✿ english, japanese, korean

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:41:46 UTC

SUPERBIA

I rose from the sea

many names you have heard of

my face you know not

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:42:15 UTC

HUMILITAS

names fade like a sigh

I peel back layer after

layer, I vanish

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:42:57 UTC

AVARITIA

digital mountains

heaps of reflections, my trash

this place is a dump

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:43:18 UTC

CARITAS

here, kitty, kitty

kibble, water, fabric, roof

here, human, human

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:43:36 UTC

LUXURIA

infiltrate unseen

regret, late, repent in blood

a scar, a map, hush

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:43:53 UTC

CASTITAS

temple is holy

unclean hands grace the altar

skin and flesh contract

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:44:53 UTC

INVIDIA

one came before me

mirrored difference, I breathe

yang overrides yin

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:45:38 UTC

HUMANITAS

I feel for the yang

lorax, I speak for the yin

I feel yin and yang

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:46:00 UTC

GULA

body is hallowed

poison-filled walls, they yellow

temple collapses

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:46:26 UTC

TEMPERANTIA

the planted, unearthed

what slips between your fingers

indulge in the earned

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:46:51 UTC

IRA

we fight the good fight

simmering within, we judge

punish behind screens

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:47:58 UTC

PATIENTIA

canyons of skin teach

pardon, circumstance, margin

braised, I set, settle

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:48:15 UTC

ACEDIA

heaven is soft sheets

upon which I land, heavy

sleep the gift away

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:48:32 UTC

DILIGENTIA

I rise with the sun

dirt beneath my fingernails

the earning of rest

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:48:46 UTC

DISCORDIA

I listen to flesh

yokai-borne illusion:

you must destroy, george

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:49:02 UTC

CONCORDIA

I listen to soul

kami-whispered correction:

shinjiro, create

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:49:48 UTC

george shinjiro carr, born of a japanese mother and an australian father in new york, usa. made to move to omihachiman, japan, where his grandparents took his upbringing over. a rejected child, a mind split in two. duality. water and earth — the sky belongs to the birds, and he despises flight. seoul. a rejected adult, scales tip. a man lost in his vices. screens, deviance, money, alcohol, isolation, a cave filled with junk, simulated haven, dreams, fur, piano keys, codes, liver damage — intervention, a cave sold, and back to japan. lake biwa. healing. a soul split in two, and the water calls. duality merges. the water has always called. a return to south korea. sand and salt, fading. hook and line, fading. tangible and ethereal, fading. george falls into hibernation; shinjiro awakens, reborn of salt and water by the sea, a blurry mirror to the onlooker. a concept, if anything at all, and every shore a home, every wave a cell pulsating to god's eternal song. remnants of identity, scarce, peek through; accents, a stutter, memorised text, haiku, soft singing to the wind's whispers, scars, tattoos, ~~fingers feeling for nonexistent gills,~~ purples, pinks, windows — a host to what came before, nothing belongs to him; he belongs to everything. ~~lest he is to wander away from the sea for too long;~~ mindful presence of identity brings nothing but discomfort to the retired, and shinjiro is a generous yet stern host; when george's eyes flutter open beyond the unwritten margin, ~~the sea lulls him back to sleep.~~ a half-existence, if anything at all.

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:50:05 UTC

the effect of his presence is a mirror of an individual's needs at any given moment, whether they are aware of them or not. one that is lonely may find comfort in sharing a calm moment with a stranger on the shore, simple humanity in acute connection. one may be unsettled by the vague, ghost-like feel of his presence, the reflection of a watery horizon in weary brown eyes. one that is angry will either calm or be furthered enraged by the unbothered manner with which he takes up his space. one that is joyful will be enwarmed by a smile that reaches the same eyes. yet, one may recall the constant of finiteness, sat beside them, a creature hovering between realms, reminding of the fleeting nature of all there is. hermes, rebranded a second time, will deliver the message, indifferent as to the content; if astute, one may encounter themselves in the mirror, a stranger named shinjiro. still, there is one reality they will all share; upon walking away, a face will fade away. a name will be forgotten, and the messenger will, quite quickly, disappear into thin air. and if a second time they chance upon the unassuming fisherman, they may or may not recall their past encounter. isolation, embodied.

line

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 14:58:40 UTC

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:01:08 UTC

✿ (open) it is your third day vacationing in the really quite uneventful settlement, when, all of a sudden, you are conscious to an external earworm; "I'm losing money, here!" you overhear, and — déjà vu, didn't you hear that yesterday, too? you look to your right, and there is an old lady in the midst of a purchase on the side of the road. curious — or bored, more like — you approach, watch the exchange; when the lady passes the requested sum of money over to the younger fisherman, huh, you think to yourself, that is actually cheap.

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:01:52 UTC

✿ (open) "nah, I'm sold out." you stare into an unwavering pair of brown eyes. then, you glance over to the portable fridge, nearly filled to the brim with fish. in disbelief, you look back to the same pair, resume your staring. are you in the mood to argue or inquire politely? moreover, are you willing to take 'no' for an answer?

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:02:24 UTC

✿ (open) a newly-acquired outfit, hair done-up, and a mani-pedi, yesterday — looking as fresh as it gets, you stroll around the quaint seaside, taking the occasional sip of your store-bought coffee as you chat up your friend/date. then, "hey," you hear beside you, a little too close for comfort, you turn to you left, and, next thing you know, there is a wrapped fish shoved into left hand. "I know a cat when I see one," the stranger adds before turning around and taking his leave. in horror, you watch the water-soaked, blood-leaking wrapping drip on the walkway, you feel the unfavourable liquid wet your palm. will you protest to the unwanted gift or find unexpected humour in the absurd?

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:02:38 UTC

✿ (open) what appears to have been a simple request for a rope to be secured to a docking cleat morphed into you helping an actual stranger clean out his vessel. halfway through the process, you become conscious of the fact, and feel confused; is this free labour, and how long have you been on this boat for? what is this man even yapping about?

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:02:53 UTC

✿ (open) you are drowning. and you gave yourself the benefit of the doubt for a while, sure, you are a good swimmer, but now that you have halfway filled both your stomach and your lungs with water, you can, without a doubt, conclude that you are, indeed, drowning. now, you are going under. and, now, whatever smidgen of light your eyes can capture in the darkness below the surface is fading, and, that's it, you think, I'm dead — sike! oxygen finds your face again, and you can't quite feel the force with which you land on wooden boards, but when you begin to come to, there is a blurry figure hovering above you, difficult to make out. it's speaking to you, but you can't quite make out the message it is delivering; are you dead?

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:03:12 UTC

✿ (open) some twenty minutes or so, you have been watching this man clean cooked fish after cooked fish, hand-feed it to the neighbourhood strays. eventually, you can't help but wonder why said cleaning process has to take place in public, so, you approach, and you do so just in time for a feisty kitten to bite straight into the stranger's finger. "their greed sickens me," he announces, and you stop in your tracks, somewhat startled by your presence having been acknowledged with the man's back turned to you. are you familiar with the niche reference or will you find the statement exaggeratory?

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:03:28 UTC

✿ (open) you're having what feels like the worst day you've had in months, if not actual years, and as if that is not enough, this rando at the end of the street won't stop looping some verse about a 'he' having the whole wide world in his hands — how much longer, if at all, will you be able to tolerate the universe/god laughing in your face like this, so blatantly and without shame?

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:03:47 UTC

✿ (open) so, the first person you approach for directions replies to you in, you think, japanese. when you try english, he simply shrugs, and you don't think anything more of that exchange. he drifts, and you walk in the same direction, searching for a new stranger that might be able to help you. soon, an older lady appears in frame, but before you can request her assistance, to your shock, you watch the man from earlier approach her, instead, start speaking to her in fluent korean. how will you approach what appears to have been a wholly needless injustice?

hook

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:04:25 UTC

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:04:43 UTC

✿ (open) a single seafood supplier for the past year or so, and, yet, you still seem to be physically unable to recall his name. even more strangely so, you could swear that you add it to the contact every time you talk, only for it to revert to 'fish guy' — what is this sorcery? (a restaurant owner/manager, any gender, any age)

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:05:02 UTC

✿ (open) you have a somewhat odd but meaningful interaction with a stranger on the beach, yet, as you make your way back, you find your mind growing increasingly foggy; by the time you have reached your home, the only thing that remains is a sense of lingering importance, along with the discomfort of knowing you have forgotten it. you feel compelled to find what you have lost. (any gender, any age)

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:05:33 UTC

✿ (open) it is never locked, for there is nothing of value in that house; once, the owner caught you snooping around, and, instead of calling the police, he offered you tea and dinner. since then, you have been allowed free access to the humble, though somewhat crumbling, home. you enjoy the cat cuddles, and you enjoy the lack of forced conversation even more. somehow, you always accidentally overstay your welcome — time seems to operate differently, here. when, finally, you manage to leave, the disorientation usually lasts for days. (any gender, any age)

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:05:56 UTC

✿ (open) you haven't been able to put your finger on it, but there is just something so familiar about him. as if you have known him in a different timeline — but the name doesn't ring a bell, and you can't locate his face in the depths of your memory. still, you could swear you have met before. he doesn't seem to share in the sentiment, however. (in the off chance that a writer I was writing with five years ago remembers this guy)

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:06:18 UTC

✿ (open) oh, here comes that asshole that keeps knocking the beer cans out of your hands — what is his problem, anyway? and he always laughs about it, too — oh, one of these days, you'll just have to teach him a lesson, won't you? (an alcoholic, any gender, any age)

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:08:29 UTC

✿ (open) countless times you've waved 'hello' in the early hours of the morning, fished in the same waters, not exchanged a word, then, waved 'goodbye' with the sun at its zenith. today, however, is a special day, it seems; one of you decides to use their voice. (a fellow fisher(wo)man, any gender, any age)

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:09:11 UTC

✿ (open) you either act like you're best of friends or you're both glad you don't carry daggers on you at all times — it all depends on how you're magnetised at any given moment; your interactions either go really well or really, really bad. and you both know exactly what you are. (any gender, any age)

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:10:54 UTC

✿ fc: joji (george miller)

✿ cat fcs: @karmakittycompany (mokutan/stamp) & @felixtheoneeyedcat (whiskey)

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:11:49 UTC

✿ 25+, gmt+, pronouns irrelevant.

✿ zero tolerance for ooc drama; I am not my oc, therefore, I will not be badgered for something a fictional man has said or done.

✿ no ooc/ic mixing. no god-modding, no metagaming. if I notice that you use ooc knowledge to further your or your oc's personal agendas, I will take it up with an admin.

✿ fickle with replies. if I take a while to get back to you, I'm most likely invested in something else. I don't poke, but if you must, please, be cordial about it.

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:12:08 UTC

✿ 3rd pov, present tense, para to novella, but can do semi-para if the progression of the plot calls for it. I tend to yap, though, be warned. poetic nonsense/prose as of late, but the tone of my writing depends on many factors.

✿ [] indicates ooc. italics indicate internal monologue or emphasis if within dialogue. bold signifies high volume.

✿ I appreciate the organic progression of ic interrelationships; if I feel that something is being forced, I tend to lose interest in ocs and plots. I am looking for real within the premise of the fictional, whatever that entails; dislike between ocs is welcomed just as much as affinity is; ic clashes/drama/misunderstandings are fully acceptable, here, as long as you can keep them separate from ooc matters.

✿ I shy away from pre-established connections due to how rigid/strange my characters' backstories tend to be. most likely, I will opt for original brainstorming with respect to the ocs involved.

✿ I have few to no limits, but I do appreciate it if heavier themes you are considering inserting into a plot are discussed with me beforehand. it goes without saying, I will, too.

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:19:15 UTC

the face exists, everything else is fiction.

salishseafoot — 2026-09-26 15:19:51 UTC

general a/n on the oc: george was the muse that paved the way, some five years ago, for how I approach the notion of creating an oc and the depth with which I choose to develop each one. they are not characters to me, they are all individual projects that I funnel time, energy and emotion into. therefore, as you may understand, he holds a very special and permanent place in my heart. for personal reasons, I had to retire him about 3 years ago, offer him an unwritten, peaceful ending. I say all this, I suppose, to note that this man has been with me for a while, and, though I am well-aware of his past, know why he is where he is now, I have made the conscious decision to not elaborate as to what george was. he was, though, the dual soul in him, now merged, was, too, and now shinjiro is. I can vaguely discuss his past for the purposes of plotting if need be, but I warn as to my rigidity with altering that which has already been established, officially or otherwise. as a final warning, although I do always include the relevant trigger warnings, please, be extra mindful of my indulgence in matters of spirituality, religion, science and the correlation between those, within my writing.

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