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
Everybody did. I was in jail. Not the best fucking place for a party.
[ birthdays mean a bit less when you can manipulate your own age anyway. besides, she'd given herself a big enough gift the year before, in a manner of speaking-- an entire country. that being said, maybe it would have been more fitting, given the circumstances, to celebrate the anniversary of her dictatorship (and her) meeting a fated end. better irony, that way.
a sentiment probably better not expressed to kanaya. not while they were getting along better than they had in almost a year. as she comes over to help kanaya lift that slab of plaster, she goes on: ]
Not a big deal. Technically, most people celebrate anyway. It is fucking New Years.
no subject
between the two of them, lifting the slab is much easier, so kanaya has enough force to spare to push over the shelves. it comes down with a crush against the broken drink coolers, sending some of the dust covering the floor into the air. the middle aisles open now, but one shelves toppled over on its side, and there are still scattered pieces of the roof along the floor. kanaya steps in to start picking through what hadn't been looted already, what hasn't spoiled or broken. ]
Well, there's a considerable difference between people partying and the purpose of their party being you. [ she picks up a snickers bar and wipes the dust off the package, examining it for any tears or damage. eventually finding it satisfies her requirements, she offers it to jenny. ] Happy birthday. Pray it isn't your last.
no subject
Thanks. [ dryly, but without any real bite: ] For the present and the morbid fucking sentiment.
[ she hops up onto a piece of rubble, unwrapping the chocolate before she takes a bite. it's surprisingly good-- she hadn't noticed how hungry she'd become or how long it'd been since she'd had something this indulgent until the sugar is melting on her tongue. jenny takes a second to savor it before glancing at kanaya, patting the spot next to herself and waving the candy bar at her in invitation. ]
C'mon. Sit for a sec.
no subject
she considers opening one for a snack as she takes her seat, but knows it won't do much for her, so she just dumps them in her bag again and digs out a bottle of thick red fluid. she's down to two, and she knows they'll spoil before long without refrigeration. it's just the struggle between rationing and letting them go bad now, so she takes a good swig. ]
Well, you know I've never been one to look to for sunshine and rainbows. My definition of either is distinctly outside cheerier expectations.
no subject
Is that blood? [ she inquires idly, gesturing at the bottle of red stuff. ] How much you got left?
no subject
finally, she decides to take another swig before screwing the cap back on. ] But the odds are against it having to, either way.
no subject
So why even bother saving it?
no subject
[ too much would make her lightheaded and incoherent, too blooddrunk for her own good. it's too much like giving up and waiting for fate to do as it will. letting go of the self control she clings to so tightly.
plus, she'd probably be sick after. and she doesn't know how long they've got to be sure when there won't be an after. ]
no subject
You're way too fucking uptight for it being the end of the world, Naya.
no subject
[ she starts fidgeting with one of the cracker packets, tearing it open and sorting the chunks through the crumbs. ]
Giving up isn't strong suit. [ not entirely true. it's that it's too easy, a battle she has to fight constantly. ]
no subject
[ her responds a bit dryly-- a dig, maybe, at how long they butted heads. it felt like forever. it's actually kind of nice, to be sitting with her here like this, just hanging out like friends at the end of the world.
at length, somewhere between wry and quiet: ]
You'd think between the fucking two of us, we'd be able to save them.
no subject
[ she asks but the knows the answer. she's supposed to be a sylph, a healer, and space her domain. it's almost tailored for this exact sort of situation. but she was never worth much in that role. it always felt like some great big cosmic joke that she was chosen to be a healer, at least in retrospect. ]
Maybe you, but in normal circumstances the best I could do is move people elsewhere. Escaping would be one thing, but it wouldn't end this.
no subject
Yeah, right. Me? This universe is out of my fucking hands. Should've kept sitting on my ass in jail for all the good I'm doing.
[ there's a self-depreciating disdain in her voice, but it passes. ]
It's not like there's anywhere to run anyway.
no subject
[ not that this isn't part of her own baggage, the only thing she hates more than being idle is being useless. like hell she's going to die being both. ]
At least this way, if doom is in the cards, you'll get to stretch your legs first.