crab: (Default)
karkat vantrash ([personal profile] crab) wrote in [community profile] capeandcowllogs2013-06-13 04:02 pm

an outlet for emotions stockpiled, an arsenal, an armor

WHO: karkat vantas ([personal profile] crab) and YOU.
WHERE: various locations around the city.
WHEN: 13th of june through to the 20th, various times.
WARNINGS: violence, language.
SUMMARY: do you like short, angry teenagers? incompetent vigilantism? general dumbassery? then this is the open log for you! in other words, there are a whole bunch of multiple prompts inside.
FORMAT: your choice!

( 1: sleep. )

[ it's been happening more and more, karkat notices with apprehension. sleep. he's just so tired, more exhausted than he even wants to quantify, and his body is nearing its limits when it comes to prolonged, severe sleep deprivation. it doesn't feel like sleeping, though, when he does it. it feels more like blinking. he'll close his eyes, and open them again a few minutes later, unaware of how much time has passed.

sometimes, these episodes last longer, upwards of fifteen minutes -- and over the week, he can be found, asleep, in the following places; on a bus, face down on the sidewalk, in the frozen food aisle of the grocery store, in the romantic comedy section of the video store, in a supermarket elevator, sitting at a table at some generic coffee joint. and more!

( 2: shopping. )

[ he doesn't exactly relish venturing out into the sunshine, or into crowds, but there's really no avoiding it. there's shit that needs to be done, and there's only so much time a guy can spend stuck at home.

among the shit that needs to get done is grocery runs, where he unceremoniously tosses things into a shopping trolley and later struggles with a bunch of shopping bags he quickly realizes are more heavy than he expected them to be, or musing over which latest earth romcom he should add to his collection, debating their pros and cons aloud, or treating himself to junk food. all very important endeavors. he just has so many irons in the fire, you have no idea.

( 3: phantasm. )

[ at night, between the times of 6pm and 6am, karkat ventures out to meet up with a group of four natives, members of the vigilante group the phantasm. his disguise is distinct from theirs; while they at least somewhat look the part of a vigilante group, karkat looks more like a mugger than anything else. black hoodie, black pants, black gloves, black ski mask, with duct tape to seal the gaps between different articles of clothing, where it might ride up to reveal his skin. all to disguise his horns, teeth and skin.

they can usually be found spread out across a designated area of the city for the night, skulking around the darker, shadier pockets. alleyways, backstreets, storm drains, docks. during slow nights, the sound of a fourteen year old loudly complaining about how unspeakably fucking bored he is would be most likely to draw attention. other nights, a brawl is hardly easy to miss.

( 4: morning. )

[ in the early hours of the morning, karkat makes his way home. sometimes he limps, sometimes he doesn't. sometimes he's bleeding, sometimes he isn't. it depends on the night in question, but every time, he probably looks more than a little suspicious, even having taken his mask off. it's still a short, grey alien dressed like a burglar wandering the street at five in the morning. ]

( 5: practice. )

[ vigilantism is a lot harder than he expected it to be. maybe it's the sleep deprivation, maybe it's that he hasn't really practiced in a long time, maybe it's that abstract gaming constructs like fraymotifs and his echeladder don't seem to carry over into this world, but he has more trouble than he remembered. he's not as strong, or as agile, and he gets tired much, much quicker.

so, he's been practicing. sometimes, he practices navigating the urban landscape. (basically parkour) it's hard, and requires a lot of energy and momentum. he's still not very good at it, and it often ends in him getting himself stuck on roofs or ledges or fences, or just with him sprawled on the sidewalk in a pile of his own shame.

or you might find him practicing sickle combat, either to pass the time on a roof, or in some more-or-less empty parking lot. there is a lot of jumping and whirling and ducking and weaving going on, and to be honest, he looks kind of like a doofus all by himself.
professorlionface: (I don't understand.)


[personal profile] professorlionface 2013-06-16 07:12 am (UTC)(link)
[There are a lot of things Hank may run into in the lab that he doesn't really expect. It's supposed to be a place where the impossible becomes reality, after all. Though finding a young alien huddled in a corner isn't exactly in the realm of the impossible, it's at least unlikely enough to surprise him.

For a moment, he wonders if he shouldn't just leave well enough alone, but then, there's the question of why Karkat's down here to begin with, much less sleeping. And so, he places a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Mr. Vantas, shouldn't you be in class?
professorlionface: (What was that?)

[personal profile] professorlionface 2013-06-20 06:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[Hank jumps back, hands in front a little defensively, trying to look nonthreatening. It's a very practiced gesture, but it kind of has to be when you look like he does.]

Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you!