capemods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
capemods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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
He stares in horror for a few more seconds before it sinks in - the metaman has his back to him. He shakes his head, trying to get the ringing in his ears out. It doesn't go away. He pulls himself up anyway and sprints the short distance between himself and the metaman.
At the end of the sprint, he goes into a sliding, tumbling jump forward and throws his arms around his lower body, latching on as best he can. He throws his right hand over the leg that just finished curb stomping Karkat. He's completely unfamiliar with the mechanics at work here - he has no idea how to control it, so he just tries to get it to overload, self destruct, stop working, something. The blue glow over his right hand becomes more intense and starts to pair with a crackling noise as he desperately tries to exert his influence over the bionic appendage. If nothing else, he hopes to give Karkat an opportunity to get out from under him before he gets stepped on again.]
no subject
Blood belonging to both Karkat and the metaman spots the ground, as they struggle. The metaman makes another motion, intending to kick him again, this time in the stomach, only it's at that point that Rua's arms lock around his lower body, and, quite suddenly, the metaman's legs freeze. He can still move his arms -- demonstrated by how his attention diverts from Karkat with a hail of punches directed at Rua, which lasts until Karkat hooks the blade of his sickle around the man's throat, pressing it against his jugular for a very real threat.
The metaman goes very still. ]
You lose. [ Karkat snarls. The crackling noise gets louder. There's a slight smell of burning. ] I mean, you'd lost from the moment you decided to pick a fight with Rua and I out of all the imPorts on this miserable floating hunk of garbage in the first place, but now the breadth and depth of your failure is official, along with your ensuing humiliation. Just soak it all in. We've got time.
[ He gets no answer, only the sound of the man's slightly labored breathing. The bionic knees buckle. Blood is still pouring freely from his definitely crooked nose. The blade of Karkat's sickle trembles slightly, against the man's throat. ]
You know we have to kill you. [ Karkat says, although he doesn't sound convinced of that fact.
He's never killed someone before. ]
no subject
His gaze abruptly snaps to Karkat at the use of the k-word.]
H-hey. [He gulps. He wasn't expecting this.] C-can't we just knock him out or something? It's not like he can chase us.
no subject
He swallows, uncomfortable, and turns his attention to Rua, seeking to stall for time. ]
And what about when he wakes up? He has to be with Vulcanus, Rua, and you want to let him just waltz off into the sunset to continue merrily attacking and exploding imPorts at his fucking whim? What if he'd attacked Ruka while we were gone?
He just tried to slaughter us. Why should we let him go?
[ He almost sounds hopeful. Like he wants Rua to give him an out. The metaman lets out a quiet snort of laughter. Mocking. ]