capemods (
capemods) wrote in
capeandcowllogs2014-01-07 04:57 pm
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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
[ He hadn't grabbed on, which was at least something. He didn't need to be weighing Spider-Man down with a hard landing. He had the armor and crash mechanisms to handle it. He was linked with the suit in a way that kept him safe -- but not anyone else. ]
Hang on, let's see if we can get a slowed landing, huh?
[ He uses his jets to start heading in Peter's direction, reaching out to try and get ahold of him this time. ]
they're so bad at this
[Abandoning that plan, he tries "swimming" his way back to the bubble, but he's not going to make it in time-- luckily that's when Iron Man comes close enough that Spidey can grab for his hand.]
Ugh! I hate it when I get Lois Lane'd.
They're the worst!!!
[ He shrugged it off, even while they went flying, but it was from one change and shift in gravity to another. He tried to roll with the punches, but without his sensors working properly, it just wasn't happening as well as he wanted it to. ]
This is more of a mutual thing, what's up with the web shooters? Any quick fixes?
look mom i can technobabble
Uh, I'm pretty sure it's not a mechanical issue. More like a -- physics issue. My webbing's supposed to be a pseudoplastic but it's not sublimating under shear pressure anymore.
:') this brings a tear to my eye
So it's probably something to do with the shifts in gravity, huh? The shock of going from one state to another isn't happening?
[ At least, Peter could be comforted, that Iron Man was not a chemist, and really had no interest in recreating the webbing, even if he thought that it could be serving a lot of people, if he'd market it. He was even doing him a favor, by not bringing it up. ]
this is a canonical complaint of spider-man's ftr
[Huff.]
I just don't know -- it's usually hard to control my webbing in low or zero-G, but it doesn't stop being all... webbing-y, to use the technical term. And the lack of gravity is the least weird thing about this situation.
[Peter could tell Tony stories about his failed attempts to market the webbing, but that's neither here nor there, in the most literal sense of the phrase.]
no subject
[ He could tell, with the way things were, that it was the physics of it. Everything was messed up, and nothing made sense.
Turning his head, he looked out, trying to gauge which area was going to show which reaction, but there was no indication, one way or the other. ]
More like a negative, than simply a lack, huh?