the HABIT. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whocouldwinarabbit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2012-11-13 06:13 pm
whocouldwinarabbit) wrote in capeandcowllogs2012-11-13 06:13 pm
Entry tags:
- damian wayne | robin,
- gilbert nightray | n/a,
- kanaya maryam | sylph of space,
- kyouko sakura | ophelia,
- minako arisato | the wild card,
- piccolo | n/a,
- rick bradbury | n/a,
- rin tohsaka | n/a,
- † aoi | the laughing man,
- † david xanatos | magnificent bastard,
- † jay | n/a,
- † ladd russo | white suit,
- † lenalee lee | n/a,
- † matt murdock | daredevil,
- † max gibson | batwoman,
- † n/a | the habit,
- † pamela isley | poison ivy,
- † sayaka miki | oktavia,
- † yuma tsukumo | unicorn king
THE GREATEST SHOW UNEARTHED
WHO: The HABIT whocouldwinarabbit and his eighteen lucky Rabbits.
WHERE: Yankee Stadium.
WHEN: Tuesday, November 13 afternoon onward.
WARNINGS: Not for the children. Graphic murder expected.
SUMMARY: THUNDERDOME.
FORMAT: Whatever our contestants would like.
"Rise and fucking shine, campers!" blasts the loudspeaker.
Eighteen bodies. Not a bad turnout. He's hauled them into the locker rooms to wake up together, tied balloon strings to their wrists, the balloons Skittles colors. Angora, some say in sharpie, Flemish Giant. And all have a smile drawn on, bunny ears on top.
"You're probably wondering what the hell you're doing here, right? Wonder no more! Welcome to the Trials, rabbits. Time to feed the HABIT."
The crowd roars in response, their fists in the air. They're not nearly enough to fill the stands, not hardly, the count's barely crawling up to a hundred -- but it's the impassive eyes of the cameras set up around the stadium that matter. These idiots are just for the noise of it.
"Now, see, the rules to this game are real simple. All you gotta do is kill everybody else. That's it! What could be easier, right? Knife in the brain. Sword in the guts. I don't care how you do it, just do it, meat. Look at it this way: the Porter'll bring you back good as new. So... what's keeping you? Besides, hey... the winner gets a prize."
HABIT laughs tinnily through the sound system, over the sound of the crowd. "If one of you makes a break for it -- go ahead! I encourage it, make your move -- but you will notice that there's no escape. Can't have you spoiling my fun, now can we? The good people up there in the stands paid twenty-nine ninety-nine for a show, and by fucking golly, they're gonna get it."
"Now... if you'll look at the balloons for your group assignments. Flemish Giants, why don't you come on out here? No, no, hey, don't be shy. Being first is a big ol' honor. So show us some blood!"
He hits the music, and opens the doors.
whocouldwinarabbit and his eighteen lucky Rabbits.WHERE: Yankee Stadium.
WHEN: Tuesday, November 13 afternoon onward.
WARNINGS: Not for the children. Graphic murder expected.
SUMMARY: THUNDERDOME.
FORMAT: Whatever our contestants would like.
"Rise and fucking shine, campers!" blasts the loudspeaker.
Eighteen bodies. Not a bad turnout. He's hauled them into the locker rooms to wake up together, tied balloon strings to their wrists, the balloons Skittles colors. Angora, some say in sharpie, Flemish Giant. And all have a smile drawn on, bunny ears on top.
"You're probably wondering what the hell you're doing here, right? Wonder no more! Welcome to the Trials, rabbits. Time to feed the HABIT."
The crowd roars in response, their fists in the air. They're not nearly enough to fill the stands, not hardly, the count's barely crawling up to a hundred -- but it's the impassive eyes of the cameras set up around the stadium that matter. These idiots are just for the noise of it.
"Now, see, the rules to this game are real simple. All you gotta do is kill everybody else. That's it! What could be easier, right? Knife in the brain. Sword in the guts. I don't care how you do it, just do it, meat. Look at it this way: the Porter'll bring you back good as new. So... what's keeping you? Besides, hey... the winner gets a prize."
HABIT laughs tinnily through the sound system, over the sound of the crowd. "If one of you makes a break for it -- go ahead! I encourage it, make your move -- but you will notice that there's no escape. Can't have you spoiling my fun, now can we? The good people up there in the stands paid twenty-nine ninety-nine for a show, and by fucking golly, they're gonna get it."
"Now... if you'll look at the balloons for your group assignments. Flemish Giants, why don't you come on out here? No, no, hey, don't be shy. Being first is a big ol' honor. So show us some blood!"
He hits the music, and opens the doors.
no subject
she peeks out from behind her hands at lenalee, scowling miserably. ]
It's never the unpleasant circumstances which turn out to be jokes.
no subject
Her words made her start a bit, that she had been so foolish to imagine it might be so. This timeline was strange to her and she was just hoping this was some custom she wasn't understanding.
It seemed she was wrong. Of course. Nothing this bad was a joke, like the girl said. ]
I guess I was just wishing too much.
[ Lenalee went over to the girl now, kneeling beside her. She kept her hands on her knees for now, in case the girl didn't want to be touched, but she looked her over to see if she was hurt anywhere. ]
Are you hurt?
[ A pause. ]
Are you... glowing? [ She gives a half nervous laugh. ] I'm sorry. I can't tell if I'm imagining it or not.
no subject
Yes, I'm glowing. Phosphorescence is a trait I'm known for. Congratulations for having eyes which operate well enough to recognize it, I suppose.
But I'm not hurt. I don't tend to stay hurt for long. [ if only that did anything for her tolerance, she'd be set! but she was unfortunately too inebriated to fight back against the grew their host sent to grab her last night.
it certainly isn't doing anything for her social skills, either. ]