Post by TrueBlue© on Jan 13, 2009 14:55:53 GMT -5
Power Level: Unnecessary
Timeline: Who am I to say?
The Story:
You know those weeks—months, sometimes—when you spend hours on the most wasteful of things. When you expend so much life force solving bright, trivial puzzles, and absorbing images from a flashing bulb, taking in the information from vibrating discs made out of plastic and metal, things somebody else wasted their life making. Truth, Justice, and the American Way.
The child jumped to her feet, sort of a kangaroo action. "I'm a place holder," she complained to a clouded black sky, "the zero! You can't put this on me. I won't finish it."
As she spoke, the city's sweet air dropped five degrees Fahrenheit. She was in a black, sticky alley, walled in on three sides by squat brick stores; the dead horse symbolism for a dead end, in a dead city. Not another soul in sight, but True had two to spare, so that was fine. It was more than enough, actually, and when Ego manifested, it felt too crowded.
The emptiest air in front of the brown brick and over the old asphalt, across from the broken dumpster—True knew, she'd checked it earlier—shimmered and fluctuated, bulging with the strain of transdimensional guest appearances.
"Captain America would be ashamed of you." The watery ripples countered and then warped around a female form. The image filled in with black and solidified in full color, leaving a busty, raven-haired woman with pouty, glossy red lips.
"I don't even know who that iiiissss!" The street urchin moaned and hit her knees to the gravel. She was a mature eleven-year-old, or else an immature fourteen-year-old, but there isn't a whole lot of difference between those ages. Her black cape billowed, sucked forward around her, and then fell limp as the deity finished materializing.
Ego had picked a fairly normal form this time, and checked her glittering nails modestly. "I don't care. Do you remember The Valiant Effort?"
"It's not d-"
"And Edenite Saga, Episode Three, Rise of the Lycans?"
"That's not what it's-"
"And A Performance in Chains?"
"I'm not in-"
"And War on the Throne?"
"That one was not my faul-"
"I can go on forever. There's pages and pages of your lethargy." Ego whirled on her bare heel, bright flowing dress twisting around her short, shapely legs. She started pacing, in a sort of slow, sashaying strut.
The little girl stayed on her knees, twiddling her gloved thumbs. "What about the Songbird?"
"What about it?"
"Well, you didn't mention it."
Ego frowned at a balding cat digging around in the trash. "I can't just list off every single story I've had my hand in. That would make poor dialogue, and I never do poor dialogue."
"Oh." That was all True could say about that. "I'm losing circulation in my legs."
Ego experimented with her eyelashes, pulling them out ultra long and pushing them back in to normal length as she paced, swerved, paced closer to the third wall at the alley's dark end.
"You shouldn't be barefoot, there's glass."
Ego twirled on her painted toes, ignoring True. Which a lurch she lost her balance and put a palm out to stop herself on the building-
A pillar of lava exploded up from the ground, engulfing the little shop and Ego's palm and rocketing up into the midnight sky, a wide beacon of bright fire and a sign of the apocalypse.
True felt the pulse of tremors as the goddess let herself be taken up on Jacob's Ladder, her words shaking the ground.
"This is tinder! Now find some proper wood!"
--
(As loathe as I am to write anything OOC, I'm pretty sure you guys aren't going to catch on without instruction.
The rules are easy: No character will be rejected, I only ask that you use discretion and not whip out Space Monkey Ninja Polly Marshmallow because you "haven't had a chance to try her out yet" and kill my RP with her cutesy shenanigans. You can also enter as many characters as you wish, and enter more at any time, but again, I ask that you use discretion. And no Power Posting. Plot hijacks welcome, if begrudged.)
Timeline: Who am I to say?
The Story:
You know those weeks—months, sometimes—when you spend hours on the most wasteful of things. When you expend so much life force solving bright, trivial puzzles, and absorbing images from a flashing bulb, taking in the information from vibrating discs made out of plastic and metal, things somebody else wasted their life making. Truth, Justice, and the American Way.
The child jumped to her feet, sort of a kangaroo action. "I'm a place holder," she complained to a clouded black sky, "the zero! You can't put this on me. I won't finish it."
As she spoke, the city's sweet air dropped five degrees Fahrenheit. She was in a black, sticky alley, walled in on three sides by squat brick stores; the dead horse symbolism for a dead end, in a dead city. Not another soul in sight, but True had two to spare, so that was fine. It was more than enough, actually, and when Ego manifested, it felt too crowded.
The emptiest air in front of the brown brick and over the old asphalt, across from the broken dumpster—True knew, she'd checked it earlier—shimmered and fluctuated, bulging with the strain of transdimensional guest appearances.
"Captain America would be ashamed of you." The watery ripples countered and then warped around a female form. The image filled in with black and solidified in full color, leaving a busty, raven-haired woman with pouty, glossy red lips.
"I don't even know who that iiiissss!" The street urchin moaned and hit her knees to the gravel. She was a mature eleven-year-old, or else an immature fourteen-year-old, but there isn't a whole lot of difference between those ages. Her black cape billowed, sucked forward around her, and then fell limp as the deity finished materializing.
Ego had picked a fairly normal form this time, and checked her glittering nails modestly. "I don't care. Do you remember The Valiant Effort?"
"It's not d-"
"And Edenite Saga, Episode Three, Rise of the Lycans?"
"That's not what it's-"
"And A Performance in Chains?"
"I'm not in-"
"And War on the Throne?"
"That one was not my faul-"
"I can go on forever. There's pages and pages of your lethargy." Ego whirled on her bare heel, bright flowing dress twisting around her short, shapely legs. She started pacing, in a sort of slow, sashaying strut.
The little girl stayed on her knees, twiddling her gloved thumbs. "What about the Songbird?"
"What about it?"
"Well, you didn't mention it."
Ego frowned at a balding cat digging around in the trash. "I can't just list off every single story I've had my hand in. That would make poor dialogue, and I never do poor dialogue."
"Oh." That was all True could say about that. "I'm losing circulation in my legs."
Ego experimented with her eyelashes, pulling them out ultra long and pushing them back in to normal length as she paced, swerved, paced closer to the third wall at the alley's dark end.
"You shouldn't be barefoot, there's glass."
Ego twirled on her painted toes, ignoring True. Which a lurch she lost her balance and put a palm out to stop herself on the building-
A pillar of lava exploded up from the ground, engulfing the little shop and Ego's palm and rocketing up into the midnight sky, a wide beacon of bright fire and a sign of the apocalypse.
True felt the pulse of tremors as the goddess let herself be taken up on Jacob's Ladder, her words shaking the ground.
"This is tinder! Now find some proper wood!"
--
(As loathe as I am to write anything OOC, I'm pretty sure you guys aren't going to catch on without instruction.
The rules are easy: No character will be rejected, I only ask that you use discretion and not whip out Space Monkey Ninja Polly Marshmallow because you "haven't had a chance to try her out yet" and kill my RP with her cutesy shenanigans. You can also enter as many characters as you wish, and enter more at any time, but again, I ask that you use discretion. And no Power Posting. Plot hijacks welcome, if begrudged.)
?)
