the HABIT. (
whocouldwinarabbit) wrote in
capeandcowllogs2012-11-13 06:13 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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
He turns in time to see the spear flying towards him, the chain serpentining through the air, but even knowing it was coming wasn't going to do him any good. His earlier hesitation cost him too much time. He wasn't far enough away from Kyouko; there was no room to maneuver and no time to react.
The spear slams home into his abdomen with a sudden shotgun blast of pain. The force of the blow staggers him back; he drops to his knee, hunched over, and even that small movement hurts.
He can hear Max yelling and the rhythmic beating of her bat against the barrier as his fingers curl around the spear shaft lodged in him, and for a crazy moment he's not sure what he's supposed to do now. Pull it out or leave it in? Get rid of the source of the pain or bleed out even faster? He can't think around the pain blooming in his gut.]
no subject
It shouldn't be. She's gotten people killed before, and she's let people die. Why is killing one person herself any different?]
It isn't different. It isn't any different at all.
[This is muttered to herself, barely audible to the others. She whips the spear back to her hands, back into a straight shaft held firm and at the ready.
And she concentrates, trying to force herself to finish it off. As she does so, the barrier holding Max back finally splinters and disappears. But that's okay, right? It's already finished, somewhere in her brain. This guy is going to die.
All her attention narrows into one spot. Kyouko aims the spear at Jay's throat and thrusts it forward, ignoring everything else around her.]
no subject
What's she thinking? There's no way she's getting him to a hospital on time with a gut wound, not without her suit for certain and even then - look how many others had failed to get out, with powers that were actual powers instead of just minor add ons. No. No, she can't think of it like that though. She's not losing.
The barrier shatters and she moves faster than she'd thought she could, swings the bat at the back of Kyouka's head, trying to calculate speed and force so that she won't kill her on accident instead of just knock her out. She doesn't even look at Jay, because any distraction might make her too late and she can't be too late.
She's not going to be too late. ]