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.
Re: FINALISTS
"Well done, rabbits! You haven't completely embarrassed me just yet. There was actually some blood spilled, who'da thunk it? We're down to four lucky suckers. Who will win? Who will lose? Who will get their ribcage torn open and spill their guts for all to see? Who cares who it is? All of you with a pulse, get your asses on the floor! Remember, no matter who wins, all of you are the real losers."
no subject
Archer was going to come for her soon enough. Then she'll win this for Minako's sake. For the sake of that other girl.
Because Rin must obtain victory no matter what. That's what she tells herself, but when she looks back towards the path she previously stepped in, the arrogance falters into fear.
If she loses, then those girls died without purpose. She's not scared of dying herself, but her determination cracks at the thought of death once more. Even if that voice was saying things that were untrue (after all, she's not a loser), Rin can't help but wonder what might happen if she does lose.
Regardless of that, she's picking through the weapons scattered about carefully in an attempt to find one that's free of blood. Something with a bit of gold catches her attention, so she picks it up without wasting another thought. A light one-handed weapon with some kind of golden allure to it; a reminder of someone who had to fight for her in her past. Much smaller than Saber's, but it'll do. Quietly she murmurs an incantation under her breath as she feels not only the metal harden, but the black socks she wore. ]
Well, who's going to try their hand against the teenager girl first? [ Rin asks as she kicks off her shoes onto the grass. No need to trip on them. ] Unless you want to suggest something stupid such as attacking our host.
no subject
[Two children and a grown man. Guess who's in the direct path of her vines; they're heading for Bradbury's legs, trying to trip him.]
no subject
[ Unlike Rin, Bradbury doesn't reach for a weapon. He looks at the others here, the survivors of their final rounds, and his stomach turns. Two of them are just kids. The bodies and the halberd he fought with are off the field, but he can still see the splash of blood where Xanatos fell, remembers the spot in the grass where Matt collapsed.
He recognizes Ivy, and while he didn't watch her fight, he has some idea about what she can do. Still, knowing it and being prepared for it are two different things, and her attack catches him midsentence, and he stumbles before he manages to catch himself, trying to kick his feet free. ]
Shit! Get back!
[ The last is snapped at Yuma and Rin, though his attention is all focused on Ivy. What he needs is a weapon, but looking around wildly isn't getting him anywhere - the weapons rack is too far to reach. ]
no subject
It's the unexpected attack from the old lady to the old guy that jolts Yuma back into the present, dodging backwards with a flip. Absently, he notices just how cold the ground is when his hand pushes off the grass, but once he's on his feet, his eyes refocus on the scene: attacker, defender, the old man, and Yuma.
He's shouting before he even realizes his mouth is open. ]
Oi, grandma, what the hell're you doing?! Knock it off!
no subject
Shush. [ Rin's quick to to try to hush the boy up as she looks towards him. ] You don't want her to go after you next, do you?
[ It's a gamble, but maybe if one of them eliminates the other... well then, what is she doing giving this boy advice? He would be the next best distraction, right? She shakes her head to clear it of those wicked thoughts before holding up a fist with her other hand. ]
We can't just stand here and let her do that, right?
no subject
Killing Ladd, that had been easy, and she's not above using the same tactics again. She makes her way over to Bradbury, pulls him up a bit by his shirt... and goes in for the kiss.]
no subject
What did you-- [ He's cut off by his own retching, though his stomach is thankfully empty and nothing comes up but air and bile. But he hasn't forgotten about the other two off to the side, or the kid calling her out. He wants to tell them to run and quit pissing the bitch off, but right now he jut can't find the air. ]