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| [You're in Tokyo. Don't ask why, that's just how life goes. There's a vampire vs. slayer battle raging, with a ratio something like 1000:1. It's not a pretty sight. If you look up, you'll see one hundred pounds worth of girl hurtling for the ground, all dressed in black.]
Oh, Hell. And I don't even mean that in the literal sense.
[She's plummeting to her death and where was Willow? This was definitely not of the good. As Buffy cuts through the air, one by one the vamps go up in smoke. Her eyes widen as it happens, but by the time she's less than 20 meters over solid ground everyone has vanished, except one girl and one really pissed off witch. Not Willow, either. Bad witch.
The witch has Buffy's scythe and before Buffy can call out, she stabs Renée right through the heart. And suddenly, they vanish too.] Man down. Man down.
[But no one's there to hear her, and she lands almost delicately; unharmed, on the pavement.]
{ooc; feel free to assume CR this Buffy is timeskipped forward by six or seven years} | |
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| [You're in a clean white room with large windows. Half finished model airplanes are scattered all over the ground. In the center of all of is a large white chair looking almost like a throne with sick white wings sticking out of it and a cross at the very top of it. It's turned to the window.] Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
[A voice calls out from the chair as if reading from a book. It's impossible to see them past the wings but, if you look at the reflection in the window things change. A young blond haired boy in his teens is staring at you with a thin smile on his face. One of his eyes will seem strangely red but, that must be a trick of the reflection, right?]
Igne Natura Renovatur Integra. Child, avert not thine eyes.
[The chair swirls around. That boy is now facing you with one eye glowing red.] What kind of future do you want? [ooc; Replies will be from ![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=3) untiltheyscream . As a warning, this is the future where 01 is possessing Cain's body. To put it simply, 01 is evil and will offer anyone here creepy replies forever. No worries he won't be attacking or harming anyone in the dream unless it's to its benefit. Just yeah. Creepy forever and possibility of hurt. You are now officially warned.] | |
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| [Just like last time it’s still a colony and still Mars. However this time all the lights are dimmed, even the suns light doesn’t appear as bright as it should be. The atmosphere is far from the gentle idealistic world it had been last time. The entire area seems a little darker, colder. Those whose wander it’s halls will discover many of the colonists, while they don’t speak, only give suspicious looks. And for the dreamer?
She’s much smaller but dressed in the same uniform as every other colonist. She’s curled up in a hallway, face buried in her knees. Her overly large sleeves are pushed up, a few small but bruises line her arms. Being a living experiment wasn’t always something she could live with and when she couldn’t? Those bruises are an example on how it was dealt with. On a better day. They wouldn’t last long but it was a reminder. Don’t act out. Don’t compromise the mission or colony. It’s a lesson that a child doesn’t always completely understand or know how to properly deal with. And so anyone who does notice the tiny bundle that is the dreamer might hear an occasional sniffle. She’s not upset. At least that’s what she can tell herself.] | |
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| [It starts not on Earth, not even on a space station. The dusty and red surface can only hint at one thing. Mars. Thankfully no one has to walks it’s surface. Instead it’s within the safety of the colony. One of the colonies actually. Anyone is free to explore the colony. It’s rather simple. Hallways lined with windows, most of the buildings constructed like domes. A few areas for civil needs, multiple labs that are locked, viewing rooms among a few other areas. Within the largest lab Seth’s going through a stack of papers. Potential colonists as a matter of fact. And the stack of applicants is rather large. Life on Mars is more popular then a person might think. Enough to keep her from proper rest as the dark circles under her eyes might hint at. No need to worry about interrupting her work however as she pushes aside most of the papers and rests her head on the counter. Seth folds her hands behind her head and groans with frustration. Paperwork might as well be her eternal rival. But she’s not completely unaware. The fact was as Director of the Red Mars Project she was doomed to interruptions. Instead of sleeping within a dream she lifts her head and sighs.]
If there’s anything that doesn’t require my immediate attention please just…leave me a note or something. [To which case she gestures towards some free counter-space not to far away from her.]
[[ooc; So instead of ruling an Empire this consists of the Red Mars Project having been continued/restarted. Under her of course. Which also means she lacks her Empire/children. Ah well. Feel free to bother her as a member of the colony/friend/whatever you'd like.]] | |
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| [Jade is at his desk, which is a welcome change. He hasn't been able to sit at his desk in his office in months, or what feels like months, thanks to an extended stay in the magical musical city of Elegy. Yes, a very welcome change from dealing with irritating employees and the constant music. So welcome, in fact, that he's actually dreaming about it.]
[Looking back, it's probably one of the better dreams he's ever had.]
[He is reading through the stack of reports and memos that have accumulated since he left for Kimlasca (for the Harmony seems to have put his life on hold right as he went on a week-long vacation), alone in his office at the Malkuth Imperial Forces' headquarters in Grand Chokmah. It's a tidy place, save for the corner nearest the door that His Majesty's pet rappigs like. He really would see about getting it cleaned up, but it would be a futile effort. He seems almost oblivious to the presence of another person in the room... seems being the key word.]
[And what's this? You seem to have yet another report for him. Won't you give it to him?] | |
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| [ Beneath the strange light of this world's two moons - one round and white, the other small, misshapen, and red - the steel lines of twin train tracks glisten, running parallel over the horizon. The land in all directions around is all high, rolling hills, grassy and dotted with thick, clustered shrubs but sparse of trees. The peace here is absolute - but for barely a handful of seconds.
On those tracks, a train is rumbling along at breakneck speed, bright light spilling from the windows and thick, black smoke issuing from the stack. Inside, the soft, classical decor is awash in a warm, yellow glow that seems not to emit just from the sconces on the walls, the lamps on tables, but from the very substance of the train, itself.
In spite of the rather cheery effect this luminescence lends to the bigger picture, however, if one were to poke around behind the doors of the luxurious private cars, here, they might find the place a shambles. Lamps broken, furniture scattered about, glass from the windows littering the floor, and perhaps even a few droplets of something that looks suspiciously like blood dried into the carpets - it's total chaos everywhere. Or, everywhere except the dining car, which remains mysteriously intact.
In fact, the train's sole other occupant is currently holed up, there, in the midst of an exorbitant meal. He's a young-looking man with long, silver hair and thick, round spectacles, dressed in what appears to be some odd cut of cassock. He seems unfazed by the speed of the train (though in reality he is almost perpetually stricken with motion sickness), let alone the tacky, white tiger-print wallpaper plastered to the interior of this particular car. On the contrary, he's just terribly engrossed in his present bit of business-- ]
Oh yes, I think I'd like to try this one, next! [ He says, holding up his menu with a free hand, making some vague indication toward an item from the desserts section.
He's mistaken the sound of strange footsteps for those of his waitress (or waiter), it seems. Oops. ] | |
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| [You're in an open field. The sun is shining brightly, wild flowers are scattered about, and underneath the only true around is a boy with blond hair, ordinary clothes, and he's smiling just as bright at the sun because he's free, finally free, and living in a world without experiments, strange dead cities, or cruelty. If you happen to be in his family or rather he thinks you are, he will be turning to you with excitement lightening up his features.]
This is the future I wanted. What about you? Is this everything you dreamed it would be? [Well? Was it?] | |
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| Ignore this!! - Tags:!theme: 2011-03, !theme: 2011-04, !theme: 2011-05, !theme: 2011-06, [closed], [event], [real world], [tag cloud], ami mizuno [v2], sora [v2], ᘚ abel nightroad [v1], ᘚ adam monroe [v3], ᘚ adrian staccato [v1], ᘚ aerith gainsborough [v1], ᘚ aigis [v2], ᘚ aki izayoi [v2], ᘚ alice margatroid [v2], ᘚ angel [v1], ᘚ anya [v1], ᘚ ariadne [v1], ᘚ arthur [v1], ᘚ arya stark [v1], ᘚ ash ketchum [v1.1], ᘚ axel [v1], ᘚ babydoll [v1], ᘚ barret wallace [v1], ᘚ beyond birthday [v1], ᘚ bianca [v1], ᘚ billy kaplan [v1], ᘚ bobby drake [v1], ᘚ buffy summers [v1], ᘚ cain knightlord [v2], ᘚ candy quackenbush [v1.1], ᘚ charles xavier [v1], ᘚ cheren [v1], ᘚ christine chapel [v2], ᘚ cilan [v2], ᘚ cloud strife [v1.1], ᘚ cloud strife [v1.2], ᘚ cloud strife [v1], ᘚ cordelia chase [v1], ᘚ cross marian [v1], ᘚ date masamune [v2], ᘚ debra morgan [v2], ᘚ deku princess [v1], ᘚ dexter morgan [v2], ᘚ dorothy t. catalonia [v1], ᘚ elektra natchios [v1], ᘚ elle bishop [v2], ᘚ ellen reid [v1], ᘚ equius zahhak [v1], ᘚ erik lehnsherr [v1], ᘚ flynn ryder [v1], ᘚ gabriel/trickster [v2], ᘚ gilbert guilford [v1], ᘚ hellboy [v1], ᘚ himura tomoe [v1], ᘚ hiro nakamura [v3], ᘚ homura akemi [v1], ᘚ hong meiling [v2], ᘚ hope summers [v1], ᘚ illyria [v1], ᘚ jack spicer [v2], ᘚ jade curtiss [v1], ᘚ jenny [v1], ᘚ kamina [v1], ᘚ kaylee frye [v1], ᘚ laharl [v1], ᘚ mallorie cobb [v1], ᘚ marlene wallace [v1], ᘚ minato arisato [v2], ᘚ naoki kashima [v1], ᘚ naoto shirogane [v1], ᘚ naruto uzumaki [v1], ᘚ neal caffrey [v1], ᘚ nepeta leijon [v1], ᘚ noah bennet [v2], ᘚ oerba dia fang [v1], ᘚ oerba dia vanille [v1], ᘚ peter burke [v1], ᘚ peter petrelli [v1], ᘚ petunia [v2], ᘚ quatre raberba winner [v1], ᘚ quorra [v1], ᘚ riku [v1], ᘚ riku replica (dawn) [v2], ᘚ rita bennett [v2], ᘚ roxas [v3], ᘚ sam flynn [v1], ᘚ sanada yukimura [v2], ᘚ saya otonashi [v1], ᘚ scott pilgrim [v2], ᘚ seth nightlord [v2], ᘚ shira lucina calpurnia [v1], ᘚ sin [v1], ᘚ sora [v3], ᘚ souichi tatsumi [v2], ᘚ sousuke sagara (kashim) [v1.1], ᘚ squall leonhart [v2], ᘚ stephen durfey [v1], ᘚ sylar [v2], ᘚ tara maclay [v1], ᘚ ted [v1], ᘚ teddy altman [v1], ᘚ the doctor (eleven) [v1], ᘚ tifa lockhart [v1], ᘚ tommy shepherd [v1], ᘚ usagi tsukino [v2], ᘚ vanitas [v2], ᘚ vanitas [v3], ᘚ ventus [v1], ᘚ ventus [v2], ᘚ whitlea [v1], ᘚ willow rosenberg [v1], ᘚ yoko [v1], ᘚ yui hongo [v1], ᘚ zidane tribal [v1]
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| [The stage is set. What stage? The stage in a club/pub thingie, where bands like Sex Bob-Omb would have played in Toronto. Scott's standing out on said stage by himself, his head bowed, and the most awesome bass guitar in existance in his hands. Oddly enough, he was alone to play, no band or anything.]Uh, hey! We're Sex Bob-omb -- well, I am, and we're here to play for all our fans! And if you're one of the new guys? Well, I hope you like my show. And stuff. [Scott knew he could do this, even if he never wanted to see the rest of the band again. And he could do it well. His fingers started to strum at the strings of his bass guitar, and music started to pour out. Visually. Like, the whole notes and stuff? Coming on out. And it wasn't just bass -- the music was full, like everything was being played! The singing was all Scott, but who cares about small details like that.
As for the songs? Well... here, here and here. (If you can't tell, I suck at choosing music.)
And as he finishes up? He jumps off of the stage -- throwing his bass to the side -- and into the crowd. Hopefully, you're one of the people there! Scott himself is unaware he's asleep right now -- he fell to sleep on the job. Again.] | |
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| [Buffy is wandering through the Sunnydale graveyard, still wearing the clothes she died in. Her pants are torn at the knees and thigh, shirt ripped up the side. She has a minor head wound, but none of that seems to matter as she sluices through the fog, stake at the ready.]
Oh, come on. Don't make me say it. [She rolls her eyes.] Olly olly oxen free.
[Just like that, there's a slew of vampires. Human but for their ridged faces, fingers still torn from clawing out of their own graves. She stakes one, turning and dipping like butter to the next. She never pauses, an unwavering force until they're all gone.
And then it's only you and Buffy, and she sees you across the astroturf, swinging her stake like the Lone Ranger before placing it at her back pocket.]
Don't worry, [she assures you.] You're safe now. | |
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