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capeandcowllogs2011-10-29 06:25 pm
fakethulhu.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2011-10-29 06:25 pm
Entry tags:
- !game npc,
- jack bauer | man of the hour,
- julian keller | hellion,
- kanaya maryam | sylph of space,
- kurt wagner | nightcrawler,
- sanji | mr. prince,
- † !—dropped characters—! †,
- † andromeda tonks | muggle lover,
- † flint marko | sandman,
- † floyd lawton | deadshot,
- † garrus vakarian | the archangel,
- † ginny weasley | n/a,
- † jaime reyes | blue beetle,
- † joel weinberg | houston,
- † kyo kusanagi | n/a,
- † laura kinney | x-23,
- † maggie mui | paper sister,
- † n/a | monster in the darkness,
- † nymphadora tonks | badger,
- † olivia dunham | n/a,
- † severus snape | the potion master,
- † stephanie brown | batgirl,
- † tali'zorah vas normandy | the machinis,
- † ted kord | blue beetle ii,
- † terezi pyrope | seer of mind,
- † the (11th) doctor | oncoming storm,
- † tim drake | red robin,
- † urdnot grunt | the savage,
- † wesley wyndam-pryce | watcher,
- † yuma tsukumo | unicorn king,
- † zatanna zatara | zatanna,
- † zevran arainai | insert innuendo here
DRAIN YOU OF YOUR SANITY
WHO: The Emissary and co. versus everybody
WHERE: Off the coast of Battery Park and throughout the City
WHEN: Just before midnight October 31st (technically November 1st)
WARNINGS: Violence and frightening imagery
SUMMARY: Drawn by Illidan’s magic, a demon from beyond reality has come forth to help the Betrayer doom the world. The battle that saves or destroys everything has begun. Happy Halloween, Cityverse!
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, whatever works after.
It came.
The Moon of midnight on All Hallow’s Eve shone wetly on the waters of the City’s Harbour. From beneath the surface a rumbling could be heard, as though emanating far, far below, within abyssal depths and ancient fathoms that could not possibly be there. First there was a ripple, then a wave, then the creature began to arise from the waters. It slid upwards and upwards, rising smoothly and continuously out of the ocean like a living edifice, a vast Thing ancient and immovable, a walking island sunken no longer. The head then the shoulders then the wings then the misshapen body came forth, yet still more of Its bulk remained beneath the waters, with slow thighs beginning to move It towards the City. All around it the sky and the ocean seemed to darken with an almost positive quality, as though jet-black ink was spilling into the universe itself. The Emissary had come.
Water flowed off Its body in torrents, mixing with drool and ichor. An unending series of sickly slopping and slobbering noises came from the twitching forest of tentacles around Its mouth, the product of a ravening hunger. The ocean heaved immensely around the Titan form, waves thrashing from the power of Its body. How to describe such a thing? How to even conceive of such horror, outside of madness or nightmare? That immense octopus head crowning the terrible body, those dragon-bat wings sprouting from Its back, those rubbery, sea-green scales, the mingled and loathsome aspects of the reptile, the mollusc- and the human! For it was on two feet that It moved, and with two arms did the Emissary reach out toward the morsels It slavered for.
An aura of panic and despair announced It, greater than any herald’s trumpet. Merely to look upon that incomprehensible shape and its alien geometry was to gamble with one’s sanity. Its very presence emanated a sense of immeasurable insignificance and absence of meaning, as though all the Earth was plankton in the presence of a whale. It moved with a shambling, unwholesome motion that had nothing to do with clumsiness, gathering speed. A mountain walked or stumbled! Toward the City, toward the Well. Toward the end of the world.
[ooc: goddamndoomchat is open on AIM if anyone's interested! There are some people fighting the Emissary who have not been slotted into threads yet; we will work those out as we go along! The raid against Illidan in Central Park will be posted by Jill later. Have fun everybody!]
WHERE: Off the coast of Battery Park and throughout the City
WHEN: Just before midnight October 31st (technically November 1st)
WARNINGS: Violence and frightening imagery
SUMMARY: Drawn by Illidan’s magic, a demon from beyond reality has come forth to help the Betrayer doom the world. The battle that saves or destroys everything has begun. Happy Halloween, Cityverse!
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, whatever works after.
It came.
The Moon of midnight on All Hallow’s Eve shone wetly on the waters of the City’s Harbour. From beneath the surface a rumbling could be heard, as though emanating far, far below, within abyssal depths and ancient fathoms that could not possibly be there. First there was a ripple, then a wave, then the creature began to arise from the waters. It slid upwards and upwards, rising smoothly and continuously out of the ocean like a living edifice, a vast Thing ancient and immovable, a walking island sunken no longer. The head then the shoulders then the wings then the misshapen body came forth, yet still more of Its bulk remained beneath the waters, with slow thighs beginning to move It towards the City. All around it the sky and the ocean seemed to darken with an almost positive quality, as though jet-black ink was spilling into the universe itself. The Emissary had come.
Water flowed off Its body in torrents, mixing with drool and ichor. An unending series of sickly slopping and slobbering noises came from the twitching forest of tentacles around Its mouth, the product of a ravening hunger. The ocean heaved immensely around the Titan form, waves thrashing from the power of Its body. How to describe such a thing? How to even conceive of such horror, outside of madness or nightmare? That immense octopus head crowning the terrible body, those dragon-bat wings sprouting from Its back, those rubbery, sea-green scales, the mingled and loathsome aspects of the reptile, the mollusc- and the human! For it was on two feet that It moved, and with two arms did the Emissary reach out toward the morsels It slavered for.
An aura of panic and despair announced It, greater than any herald’s trumpet. Merely to look upon that incomprehensible shape and its alien geometry was to gamble with one’s sanity. Its very presence emanated a sense of immeasurable insignificance and absence of meaning, as though all the Earth was plankton in the presence of a whale. It moved with a shambling, unwholesome motion that had nothing to do with clumsiness, gathering speed. A mountain walked or stumbled! Toward the City, toward the Well. Toward the end of the world.
[ooc: goddamndoomchat is open on AIM if anyone's interested! There are some people fighting the Emissary who have not been slotted into threads yet; we will work those out as we go along! The raid against Illidan in Central Park will be posted by Jill later. Have fun everybody!]
no subject
While she fortifies the barrier, however, he takes some of the burden of their sanity off hre; feeling the creeping madness coming for them as surely as the trembling of the earth, he reaches for the only spell he knows that can fight back any darkness known to his world, and hopes that it applies here. He reaches for that one memory that he cannot lose; Lily's red hair, her smile, at eleven year old as she took his hand and dragged him forward to Hogwarts--
"Expecto patronum!"
The silver doe springs forth, delicate before such a foe, but forged from it's anathema; love and joy to ward away any encroaching darkness. It skips forward among the rubble, as it it were nothing, and stands, not far, a glimmering specter of hope before the maw of entropy's own emissary.
i seriously read both tags like, four times. welp.
Though his magic is different from hers, it's still strong and easy to pinpoint. It's unique, despite its similarity to what she'd dealt with when Remus, Sirius, or Harry had used theirs; a different branch to the same tree. She makes a mental note to ask about the spell later, since she wasn't quite certain exactly what it was that he was doing, just that it was working. (And really, what was more important than that?)
sometimes the best comedy is the accidental comedy, bb.
Lank hair whipping about his face with the force of that things breath-- if it can be called that -- he grimaces, but does not lose the doe, nor the memory.
At the very least, it breaks the tide of madness creeping forth... the rest is all on her barrier, and her strength. He can save their minds, but only she can really keep their flesh whole.
she could have had it all...
With obstacles now in the way, Zatanna shoots for a fail-safe, a wall that could perhaps rival a certain Great one. There are no doors or lookout posts or paths. It's meant solely to keep the creature on the other side or to bring it down as it attempts to cross. Her eyes snap open as the final brick is laid and she shuffles backward, her steps staggering as she grips an arm around her waist and breathes in heavily, like she knows it may be the last one she takes.
But then she smiles, smugly. There's more than enough left in her to teleport them to the other side of the City, if necessary. At least she doesn't seem to be ready to give up...
no subject
It failed.
The wall was strong, the fortifications conjured into being around It were strong, the heroes It had fought and been wounded by were strong. More than this though, there was something weakening it. A small, pitiful something in the shape of a doe, based around a memory without meaning in a cold and uncaring universe, fueled by emotions without reality in a cosmos where sanity was a delusion. Yet the doe advanced, the wall held, and the darkness surrounding the Emissary began to fade.
Somewhere up ahead, the beacon that had called It into this world was also fading. Illidan Stormrage's deranged bid for power had been thwarted by the heroes of the City, and he had paid for his megalomania with his life. The ritual was interrupted, the power of the Well no longer tethered the Emissary and Its spawn to this universe. It found Itself cut off, cast away, adrift where It had no business being. It stumbled backwards, and fell. Even as It toppled for a second time, Its great body seemed to lose substance, become unreal like a half-remembered dream, almost transparent.
The pit It had just crawled out of yawned open to receive It. The Emissary slobbered one last time, flailed impotently at the air, and was then lost in the clouds of dust rising from the street's ruin. There was no sound of impact, for It never struck the bottom. It was simply gone. Like a nightmare at dawn, the Emissary and the horror It brought vanished like it never was.
no subject
Snape exhaled a breath that he would not admit to holding in those last moments; he looks to the doe one last night, before she bounds off into the rubble-- a dim light bobbing away before she fades into nothingness, out of sight.
He drops his hand, wand gripped tight, and shakes his head.
"Such madness, and at what purpose?" he wonders aloud. "Are you alright?" He's cetainly taxed after that, but-- her power must come at a greater cost.