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capeandcowllogs2014-01-07 04:57 pm
capemods) wrote in capeandcowllogs2014-01-07 04:57 pm
Entry tags:
- *open,
- alastair | hacker,
- danger | n/a,
- edward nygma | riddler,
- frank castle | the punisher,
- frederick chilton | chief of staff!!,
- gemma doyle | n/a,
- gilbert nightray | n/a,
- jenny quantum | eclipse,
- kanaya maryam | sylph of space,
- karen starr | power girl,
- karkat vantas | threshecutioner,
- kate kane | batwoman,
- kirei kotomine | the overseer,
- lillian crawley-jeffries | diamond lil,
- molly hooper | n/a,
- nill | n/a,
- peter parker | spider-man,
- renee montoya | n/a,
- rikku | machina maw,
- scathach | the shadow,
- steve | superhero steve,
- tony stark | iron man,
- valeria richards | n/a
of those blackholes & revelations
WHO: All imPorts.
WHERE: Atropos.
WHEN: January 7th to January 14th.
WARNINGS: Death and destruction.
SUMMARY: Atropos has risen in the night, and the inevitable has come: with her jaws she shears away the City from Earth and swallows it whole.
But the City is not yet dead.
FORMAT: Whatever you please.
The formless mass of metal haunting above, hovering like a lunar tombstone, begins to take shape. Asteroids plummet into the cheeks, the eyes, carving out bone structure. Her features howl with fury, with triumph, as she stares down below, savoring her conquest. A cavity opens. Metal swoops to form jagged, angry shears. Her teeth are born.
She waits as the world rotates, its spin more wobbly than it used to be.
And then she leans down to feast, her bite vampiric. She takes the City and then some, and all that it encompasses, so that every single imPort is captured. She takes the time to drink in any stragglers, any imPorts elusive to the City's thrall.
She holds the City on her tongue as she draws back her fist to punch the world.
And then teeth close to the shuddering, glass shattering vibration of a cosmic laugh. The jaws close, and there is no light for about an hour -- until Atropos begins to siphon solar energy from the sun into her veins. She is dissatisfied with its dying tint, or perhaps she cannot stand the redness of color, so once she injects this energy into her her body (her most intimate domain), she turns it bright yellow again. The universe within her is illuminated.
The City is a floating chunk of broken skyscrapers and puckered asphalt streets. The trauma of consumption has wrecked the usual infrastructure: buildings are half collapses, or skeletal, vehicles are flipped and strewn across the layout. Whatever vegetation that is still clinging onto life has rejoiced under the return of normal sunlight.
You can breathe. It isn't too hot, or too cold -- it's unusually pleasant, in fact. The sunshine veins that light your world are not overwhelming. There is no blue sky to complement the atmosphere, and whatever water still in the City will be constrained to the bottled kind found in shops.
But there are other floating pieces of worlds, and they might have water. Or food.
If you live in the City, your possessions should still be in the City. While about 76% of the natives have fled the City (which had gotten the brunt of focus over the past week), there are still some natives who were too sick, too sentimental or too stubborn to leave.
You'll find that your powers work normally, though you can't teleport within Atropos. You probably wouldn't want to teleport outside of her, anyway.
She swallows, and the City gentle glides down a slick throat. Dust and particles create stunning visuals, like the aurora borealis, except in warmer colors. Light reflects so easily from solar veins and starstrewn flesh.
While you can breathe easily, gravity is fickle. Physics is often defied. Atropos was never one to play by the rules.
WHERE: Atropos.
WHEN: January 7th to January 14th.
WARNINGS: Death and destruction.
SUMMARY: Atropos has risen in the night, and the inevitable has come: with her jaws she shears away the City from Earth and swallows it whole.
But the City is not yet dead.
FORMAT: Whatever you please.
The formless mass of metal haunting above, hovering like a lunar tombstone, begins to take shape. Asteroids plummet into the cheeks, the eyes, carving out bone structure. Her features howl with fury, with triumph, as she stares down below, savoring her conquest. A cavity opens. Metal swoops to form jagged, angry shears. Her teeth are born.
She waits as the world rotates, its spin more wobbly than it used to be.
And then she leans down to feast, her bite vampiric. She takes the City and then some, and all that it encompasses, so that every single imPort is captured. She takes the time to drink in any stragglers, any imPorts elusive to the City's thrall.
She holds the City on her tongue as she draws back her fist to punch the world.
And then teeth close to the shuddering, glass shattering vibration of a cosmic laugh. The jaws close, and there is no light for about an hour -- until Atropos begins to siphon solar energy from the sun into her veins. She is dissatisfied with its dying tint, or perhaps she cannot stand the redness of color, so once she injects this energy into her her body (her most intimate domain), she turns it bright yellow again. The universe within her is illuminated.
The City is a floating chunk of broken skyscrapers and puckered asphalt streets. The trauma of consumption has wrecked the usual infrastructure: buildings are half collapses, or skeletal, vehicles are flipped and strewn across the layout. Whatever vegetation that is still clinging onto life has rejoiced under the return of normal sunlight.
You can breathe. It isn't too hot, or too cold -- it's unusually pleasant, in fact. The sunshine veins that light your world are not overwhelming. There is no blue sky to complement the atmosphere, and whatever water still in the City will be constrained to the bottled kind found in shops.
But there are other floating pieces of worlds, and they might have water. Or food.
If you live in the City, your possessions should still be in the City. While about 76% of the natives have fled the City (which had gotten the brunt of focus over the past week), there are still some natives who were too sick, too sentimental or too stubborn to leave.
You'll find that your powers work normally, though you can't teleport within Atropos. You probably wouldn't want to teleport outside of her, anyway.
She swallows, and the City gentle glides down a slick throat. Dust and particles create stunning visuals, like the aurora borealis, except in warmer colors. Light reflects so easily from solar veins and starstrewn flesh.
While you can breathe easily, gravity is fickle. Physics is often defied. Atropos was never one to play by the rules.
no subject
Kurt's more tired than he's been in years, if not his entire life. Teleportation is impossible here, so it's running... Tons of running and attempting movement here, where it's impossible and everything feels like a dead end. He hates to say that things are hopeless, hates to collapse in, but he's quite close to it. This is dire. That's a horrific understatement.
And, of course, a howling chorus of Revelations comes into earshot. He'd ignore it, but he recognizes the man. And the laughter... Ach. Mad enough, isn't it?
He calls out as he approaches, visibly stressed and having exhausted panic a little while ago. ]
Oh, come off of it!
no subject
He stalls in step, needing to recover a few unsteady breaths to calm his laughter, before he turns and regards Kurt with an uneven smile. ]
Oh? [ His tone raises, disbelieving, and the undercurrent of his laughter still invades his words. Kirei spreads his arms wide, gesturing to the destruction that was once the City. ] Look around you.
Here is a call for the endurance and faith of the saints.
no subject
He stops a good distance from Kirei, willing himself to stay upright and still, rather than bending to brace his hands on his knees. ] And, yes. What was it? "Blessed are those who die in the Lord from now on." See? I can do it, too.
However. I'm sure that spouting verse in the rubble isn't terribly helpful.
no subject
[ Kirei's hands lower to his sides. He tilts his head as he regards Kurt, looking him up and down. ]
You misunderstand. I am not here to help anyone.
[ At another time, Kirei might have been wiser and more cautious with his words, but he holds no illusions now. ]
Not that there is any hope for those who wish otherwise.
no subject
And that a man of the church would sway towards the latter over the former... It is either weakness or the possession of unkindness. Kurt waves his hand dismissively. ] Then what good are you?
[ And that's that, but he pauses in turning away from the situation. ] At least get out of the open.
no subject
I'm absolutely none. [ To say that out loud for once sends a burning through his gut. ] There is no good in me at all.
[ Not like this man, who faces him. Kurt will assuredly find some final deeds to occupy himself, some others in need and help them into safety. He will earn the title Hero that the Porter bestowed upon him -- but Kirei was given that title too, despite being nothing like the humble man before him.
At last, Kirei wipes the blood away from his brow, examining its shine on his fingers and he watches Kurt turn away. ]
And leave this? No. I would not miss one instant of it. Not for the world.
Although there is little 'world' left.