Panem Events (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
etcircenses) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-12-15 06:36 am
etcircenses) wrote in thecapitol2013-12-15 06:36 am
Entry tags:
- aunamee,
- cassandra marko,
- commander shepard,
- event: crowning,
- harley quinn,
- joan watson,
- matthew "punchy" o'connor,
- sigma klim,
- terezi pyrope,
- the grand highblood,
- the signless,
- wesker,
- wyatt earp,
- ✘ azula,
- ✘ cinderella,
- ✘ diana ladris,
- ✘ eliot spencer,
- ✘ ellie,
- ✘ enjolras,
- ✘ guy crood,
- ✘ hawkeye pierce,
- ✘ howard bassem,
- ✘ ian chesterton,
- ✘ ian gallagher,
- ✘ john a. zoidberg,
- ✘ john watson,
- ✘ kevin prentiss,
- ✘ marius pontmercy,
- ✘ maximus,
- ✘ mindy macready,
- ✘ neffa a reyeth,
- ✘ orc,
- ✘ peeta mellark,
- ✘ perry kelvin,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ r,
- ✘ rat,
- ✘ sherlock holmes (bbc),
- ✘ shion,
- ✘ venus dee milo,
- ✘ zelos wilder
The Crowning of Enjolras
WHO| All Tributes and Victor, plus a few Capitol guests
WHAT| The Crowning of Enjolras
WHERE| The Tribute Center
WHEN| A few weeks after the end of the Arena
WARNINGS| Forced medical experimentation, needles.
The atmosphere surrounding the Crowning is both tense and secretive. The style teams flutter around listlessly, having received no information from which to draft their designs. Newspapers take bets on when it will be announced where the Crowning is being held, descending into grousing when no press release is given. Peacekeepers pour in and out of the Tribute Center, accompanied by scientists who occasionally pull Tributes aside and look at the veins in their elbows. Even the Avoxes seem jumpier than usual.
Aside from the Tribute Center's new giant marble statute of a nude Enjolras, posed like the famed David, one could almost forget the party is supposed to be celebratory.
When the day arrives, the Escorts and their assistants don't lead the Tributes to their style teams to be gussied instead. Instead, they hush the Tributes and bring them to their bedrooms, where a Peacekeeper, a white-coated citizen and several Avoxes await them. The Escorts instruct the Tributes to lay down in their bed and close their eyes, and a needle is inserted into their arms that the Escorts insist will 'take them to the party'. It's soon followed by a series of sensors taped to the forehead.
Just relax, the Escorts say, and they do their very best to make sure their Tributes feel minimal anxiety. If the Tributes resist too much, more Peacekeepers are called in, and the Tributes are forced into submission.
The first effect is a sort of paralysis - not the terrifying inability to move, but a signal to the brain that says why move? Moving is so much effort. It's quickly followed by drowsiness, and then a chill that radiates from the needle into the body, and finally, unconsciousness.
And that is when the party begins. The Tributes, now dressed in luxurious 1830's French clothing of a quality beyond even what their Stylists could manage, wake up in the front row of a large stone theater setting reminiscent of, simultaneously, Greek and French architecture. The floor of the theater is filled with buffets of every imaginable sort of food. Rose petals fall from the sky, which displays a sunset worthy of award-winning photography.
For his part, Enjolras sits in a throne made of books on the ring of the amphitheater, flanked by Marius, Cosette, Eponine, and bizarrely enough Venus Dee Milo and Ellie, seated on lush pillows and carpets made of dinosaur skin (with the heads comically attached and eyes lolling).
"Welcome, welcome, our Tributes and Mentors, to the first ever somnofestival, sponsored by Hypnogogia!" Caesar Flickerman, noted talkshow host and Games presenter, appears in a fabulous sequined toga in the center of the amphitheater. He doesn't need a microphone; the acoustics here are flawless. "And congratulations to our Victor! Let us hear it for Enjolras!"
He awaits applause.
"As you may have noticed, you're inside a shared dream, due to the just fantastic technology from the Capitol and certain, ah, biological contributions from our dear favorite Aunamee." He holds a hand out and gestures to Aunamee, anticipating wild applause. "We thought that for our most philosophical Victor yet, we should celebrate in a way that's a little bit…cerebral."
Caesar laughs and gestures at all the food, then puts a cheeky finger to his lips. "By all means, enjoy yourselves. Even the most indulgent desserts here won't show up on your hips tomorrow. The party only last three hours, so you might as well get started!"
He vanishes into thin air, leaving the Tributes to celebrate. Occasionally, the Tributes will hear voices in their heads - chatter from the Peacekeeper and scientist and Escort still in their room, in the waking world. Otherwise, this is a party like any other, if somewhat surreal in nature.
-/-
The party begins the same way for all the Tributes. For an unlucky few, however, it soon diverges as they come under an unfortunate glitch in the system.
They'll look around and find only a handful of their fellow Tributes around them. The sky, rather than being a magnificent splay of color, is now blank white, and yet the lighting in the theater seems dim. A sense of panic, detached from any conscious thoughts, surges forth in them like the tide.
For them, this isn't a shared dream. This is a shared nightmare.
WHAT| The Crowning of Enjolras
WHERE| The Tribute Center
WHEN| A few weeks after the end of the Arena
WARNINGS| Forced medical experimentation, needles.
The atmosphere surrounding the Crowning is both tense and secretive. The style teams flutter around listlessly, having received no information from which to draft their designs. Newspapers take bets on when it will be announced where the Crowning is being held, descending into grousing when no press release is given. Peacekeepers pour in and out of the Tribute Center, accompanied by scientists who occasionally pull Tributes aside and look at the veins in their elbows. Even the Avoxes seem jumpier than usual.
Aside from the Tribute Center's new giant marble statute of a nude Enjolras, posed like the famed David, one could almost forget the party is supposed to be celebratory.
When the day arrives, the Escorts and their assistants don't lead the Tributes to their style teams to be gussied instead. Instead, they hush the Tributes and bring them to their bedrooms, where a Peacekeeper, a white-coated citizen and several Avoxes await them. The Escorts instruct the Tributes to lay down in their bed and close their eyes, and a needle is inserted into their arms that the Escorts insist will 'take them to the party'. It's soon followed by a series of sensors taped to the forehead.
Just relax, the Escorts say, and they do their very best to make sure their Tributes feel minimal anxiety. If the Tributes resist too much, more Peacekeepers are called in, and the Tributes are forced into submission.
The first effect is a sort of paralysis - not the terrifying inability to move, but a signal to the brain that says why move? Moving is so much effort. It's quickly followed by drowsiness, and then a chill that radiates from the needle into the body, and finally, unconsciousness.
And that is when the party begins. The Tributes, now dressed in luxurious 1830's French clothing of a quality beyond even what their Stylists could manage, wake up in the front row of a large stone theater setting reminiscent of, simultaneously, Greek and French architecture. The floor of the theater is filled with buffets of every imaginable sort of food. Rose petals fall from the sky, which displays a sunset worthy of award-winning photography.
For his part, Enjolras sits in a throne made of books on the ring of the amphitheater, flanked by Marius, Cosette, Eponine, and bizarrely enough Venus Dee Milo and Ellie, seated on lush pillows and carpets made of dinosaur skin (with the heads comically attached and eyes lolling).
"Welcome, welcome, our Tributes and Mentors, to the first ever somnofestival, sponsored by Hypnogogia!" Caesar Flickerman, noted talkshow host and Games presenter, appears in a fabulous sequined toga in the center of the amphitheater. He doesn't need a microphone; the acoustics here are flawless. "And congratulations to our Victor! Let us hear it for Enjolras!"
He awaits applause.
"As you may have noticed, you're inside a shared dream, due to the just fantastic technology from the Capitol and certain, ah, biological contributions from our dear favorite Aunamee." He holds a hand out and gestures to Aunamee, anticipating wild applause. "We thought that for our most philosophical Victor yet, we should celebrate in a way that's a little bit…cerebral."
Caesar laughs and gestures at all the food, then puts a cheeky finger to his lips. "By all means, enjoy yourselves. Even the most indulgent desserts here won't show up on your hips tomorrow. The party only last three hours, so you might as well get started!"
He vanishes into thin air, leaving the Tributes to celebrate. Occasionally, the Tributes will hear voices in their heads - chatter from the Peacekeeper and scientist and Escort still in their room, in the waking world. Otherwise, this is a party like any other, if somewhat surreal in nature.
-/-
The party begins the same way for all the Tributes. For an unlucky few, however, it soon diverges as they come under an unfortunate glitch in the system.
They'll look around and find only a handful of their fellow Tributes around them. The sky, rather than being a magnificent splay of color, is now blank white, and yet the lighting in the theater seems dim. A sense of panic, detached from any conscious thoughts, surges forth in them like the tide.
For them, this isn't a shared dream. This is a shared nightmare.
SHARED DREAM
Orc
He always felt like a dork when he had to wear a suit, and it was worse now that his body was bigger then most adults because it meant everyone could see him in all his splendor.
A purple suit jacket with matching crushed velvet gloves were the first thing anyone would notice after they noticed the hulking rock monster in a suit. They were lined with gold thread that seemed to sparkle whenever he moved.
A forest green vest wast custom tailored around his broad belly, and worst of all the outfit came with a little piece of ruffled fabric around his neck that made him feel completely and indescribably unmanly.
He was told it was called a cravat.
Finally to top off the horrible outfit was a top hat. As if he wasn't tall enough.
All of this was quickly being drowned out by the wine Orc was pouring into his mouth. Drops of it flecked onto his outfit and he felt his lips threaten to tug into a smirk of satisfaction.
This party was too nice for people like him.
But what did Aunamee have to do with any of it?
Re: Orc
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Re: Orc
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Harley Quinn
Their sense of fashion usually ranked pretty high on the list.
But as the elegant lady Harleen Quinzel admired herself in the red and black fancy dress she had to admit...this party had some flare.
There were lots of frills and ruffles to this outfit, and the corset and bustle made her feel oddly kinky despite how tight the former was and how silly to walk around in the latter was.
Her golden blond hair was done in a particular french twist that would have taken hours if they had actually sat down to style it.
Satisfied with her sexy self Harley then set out to the snack table to take full advantage of the fact that none of these empty calories would need burning off later. Once her brain was buzzing on fake sugar she'd enjoy some dancing.
Swishing through the crowd she took a moment to appreciate the power and brilliance of the human mind. All of this world around them was a construct of chemicals and imagination. What neurons were currently firing in her brain and how were they effecting those around her?
If she ever became a victor, maybe she could use her status to learn more about this technology. There were endless possibilities for fun with the idea of shared dreams. She wondered to what extent her mind could control things, and to her delight she found inside her purse a pair of glittering diamond earrings.
The food tasted the way the food in the capitol was supposed to. The music was as lovely here as it would be in real life.
Who would ever want to wake from a perfect dream like this?
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Ellie
She had fought, and screamed, and kicked, and flailed, and the peacekeepers had shoved her down and held her hard and she had fought and fought and then fighting seemed like way too much work and then--
And then she was here.
She was absolutely, completely, and utterly confused but for some reason it didn't exactly seem to matter. She was wearing a long, poofy-sleeved dress, in a rich reddish-purple, completely embroidered with little swirling birds and butterflies and a couple giraffes prancing with a horse or two. The scene embroidered on her seemed to shift and change as she moved, and a velociraptor seemed to stalk around her skirts and peer out to the crowd, ready to snap and bite.
She was seated beside Venus, way at the front, and had absolutely no idea why she was here, beyond Caesar booming about Enjolras and her head turning to see him just off to her left. She recognized him, of course, it was impossible not to, but it made her gut twist weirdly.
Venus, though. It was nice to see Venus. She slipped a hand under the table to grab for hers, and squeezed it tightly.
Re: Ellie
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Re: Ellie
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Re: Ellie
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Maximus
It was futile, and he knew that if death came for him in the Capitol it would be in the form of their strange weapons known as 'guns'. So he glared as they lay him down but he did not resist, and then eventually he was brought here.
He was dressed in a simple black uniform with silver edging and epaulettes and buttons. On his chest, two embroidered horses to match his ancient armour though those were the only decoration. Save for the medals.
He had one for each arena (four in total) - the third one quite a bit larger with the word Victor etched across the bottom.
It was strange, being in a crowning again, and stranger still to find it in a place like this, where the world seemed to shift every time he wasn't looking straight at it. A dream. A dream, but this was no farm.
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Post-Secret Sharing with Joan
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Wyatt, OTA
The peacekeeper, expecting it perhaps, had a hold on him before Wyatt could do much more than curse. The fight he intended to put up melting out of his limbs as he sank and sank and drifted....
And woke again. At the party, surrounded by his fellow tributes.
It was a lot to take in. From the brilliant sky above, to the soft, downy petals brushing across his cheeks and settling on his shoulders like snowflakes, to the clothes - a full suit, complete with tails brushing against the backs of his thighs. As black as midnight, shifting to a deep, dark blue when he moved and the light hit him right. On his chest was a star, as bright and glittering as any one might find in the sky.
Pulling at the buttons, which ran all the way the crisp shirt to his throat, he undid the first two - enough to breath - and looked around for familiar faces.
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Post secret :)
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Enjolras | OTA
It's with a true republican horror that he takes note of the throne. Did they expect him to hold court here? He thinks at first that it must be a mistake, some fever dream, or a paranoid delusion. The colors seem too vivid and every so often he thinks he can a voice unfamiliar and too close to his periphery to be a product of unintentional eavesdropping, or the odd acoustics of the cavernous hall. It makes him strain not to jump in his seat, and to appear taciturn and stony-faced at the center of the hideous tumult.
Three hours, he'd said. Three hours and it would be over.
Re: Enjolras | OTA
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Re: Enjolras | OTA
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Re: Enjolras | OTA
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No one minds lateness, right?
Never! c:
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Joan
"You're joking. Screw the coronation. I am not just lying down and letting you put that in my arm."
She knew they wouldn't just back off when she said no, so she was utterly unsurprised when the Peacekeepers came in and forced her to the bed. She didn't struggle overmuch, since she knew there was nothing that would come of that than some completely useless bruising, but she didn't exactly go willingly either.
When she woke in the coronation, she looked down at her pale pink, poofy sleeved gown, and rolled her eyes, lifting her arms in an exasperated gesture. Then she turned her attention to the party. This was incredible, and very, very dangerous. If they could plant images in their heads, what was stopping them from extracting thoughts from them? She might be able to watch what she says, but how does anyone watch what they think?
She looked around for people she knew.
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Re: Joan
Re: Joan
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Re: Joan
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After meeting up with Sherlock
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"What the fuck?" He looked around, the place was beautiful, the outfits were beautiful. A shared dream. Ian looked around, feeling completely out of it, more so than he had done before.
His clothing had far too many ruffs and layers (he was glad he hadn't actually had to put it on) and he snatched the hat off his head.
He grabbed a drink, dream him was far too sober.
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The Signless
The outfit he's in isn't doing much to help with that, unfortunately. It's a mess of bright red and white and gold (including gold covers for his new, sharpened horns), and it's not very efficient for hiding from anything in. To compensate he picks a place to sit and firmly resolves to just not move, except for lifting his glass of dark soda occasionally to his lips. At least there's no tiger pit at this crowning. He can do this.
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Doc Holiday
Her area. Her space. They can't hurt her there.But she had gone calmly. She didn't fight. It would have been worse if she fought, she knew.And so she easily awoke to Caesar's voice. Flickerman. Caesar Flickerman. Not Salazar... Everything was beautiful. She imagined everything felt beautiful, too. Tasted beautiful. Yet, she was terrified, especially after it was revealed that this was in part thanks to Aunamee.
She never did quite get over that first arena.
So, Holiday remained terrified and stayed in her seat, waiting for the time to pass. Something was going to go wrong, surely... Surely...
At length, she would get up, try walking around a little, but not yet. Later... She was too scared of nothing.
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Re: Doc Holiday
oh boy
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Re: Doc Holiday
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Gabriel
And, yes, he did fight for a few minutes against those guys in his room. Knocked one of them clean out, but after a well-placed punch to the gut, Gabriel was done wrestling. Didn't take much and... he hated that. He hated a lot of things about the place.
The party was nice and fancy, he'd give them that. He didn't like it being in his head, though. He didn't like that they created. That they controlled it. They were humans messing with technology they barely understood.
And he hated it.
After a seething moment of glaring up at the scrawny Victor, he put on a happy face and made a bee-line for the snack table.
Re: Gabriel
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Re: Gabriel
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Zelos
After waking up in the dream, he took a few moments to look around the room and take everything in. Though there was a constant underlying sense of unease, Zelos kept a carefully good-natured smile on his face as he watched the ceremony from his seat near the back. So this was what happened if you won the death match, huh? Not exactly a bad way to be.
Once the official humdrum was over and people began to get up from their seats, Zelos made his way over to the buffet to pick up a flute of champagne. Taking a small sip, he eyed the room. If these people were to be his opponents in the match, then it could only be helpful to get a measure of them.
Zelos smirked sardonically at that. It was nothing more than a deadlier version of Meltokio high society, frilly satin and all. The pink and white affair he himself was wearing was a little confining for his tastes but whatever. Could be worse, judging from some of the other fashion don'ts walking around.
For the rest of the evening, he would flit around the room and perhaps casually slide an arm around people's shoulders to get a word in.
Re: Zelos
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Guy
As such, the party pretty much started on the wrong foot in the nomad's estimation. The fear only continued on as a whole little shared world sprang into being in his head. Even though there were the smallest little blossoms of wonder blooming inside him at the thought of such a thing being possible, the fact that the Capitol could just force him into this and even take over the space inside his own head, was horrifying. Even in his dreams, he wasn't truly safe.
And the clothes were annoying! It was only a minute into the festitivities that he was wrestling with his clothes like a dog that had been put into an irritating sweater by its owner, rolling around slightly on the floor as he tried to pull them off. He hadn't yet keened on to how buttons and all that worked yet. Before long, he'd worked his way out of the shirt, waistcoat and cravat. That left the pants and shoes, which he kept because he didn't exactly want to run around naked, either. He just wasn't used to being so confined.  Â
Confinement via clothing could be escaped but the dream wasn't something Guy could get away from, so he settled into a kind of low-level, controlled panic and took to hiding under a buffet table.Â
...A buffet table full of food that smelled absolutely fantastic.
That was why the other Tributes would be treated to the sight of a bare arm reaching up from under a table every now and again, grabbing a snack, and quickly disappearing back under the table again.
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Re: Guy
Re: Guy
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Re: Guy
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"Have you been seeing Sandy Marko?" She asked everyone she came across, in her wide skirted dress and bonnet.
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Kevin
The dream was not at all what he'd expected to happen. Even the weird clothes couldn't take away his relief. He was not especially interested in the food, though. What was the point in eating in a dream? Still, it seemed like he was supposed to be eating and he didn't want trouble. He grazed. At least he wouldn't have to worry about getting full and someone trying to get him to drink that stuff that would make him throw up.
Re: Kevin
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Eliot
For once, he hadn't been shoved into something either ridiculously risque or completely gauche. His suit was relatively simple even though the fabrics were clearly expensive. Of course, the best part of the shared dream was that, whatever happened here, it wasn't real.
Re: Eliot
Re: Eliot
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Re: Eliot
Re: Eliot
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Kain
He'd been transported to yet another world not his own.
He half wondered if it was because he hadn't survived that final battle, if for some reason that meant he'd be unable to return home now as well. Were the others displaced in other worlds with their own strange wars? Sigh. Coming to terms with being alive again had been just as strange as coming to terms with his old memories, which were still straightening themselves out.
So he'd gone in threatening and struggling... until they'd jabbed him.
Now, he was here. Kain scowled at the scenery, visibly annoyed. The clothing bothered him, including the suit he was dressed in. Even at those dull official Baronian festivals he'd always at least been able to make excuses and wear armor. He kicked at some fallen rose petals. Perhaps he ought to be finding someone who could tell him more about all of this. He didn't quite believe what he'd been told officially.
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Re: Kain
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Re: Kain
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Rat
The world slipped away and he was dreaming. He wore an ivory gown, with a wide, pleated neckline, voluminous sleeves and skirt. His hair was twisted up and decorated with flowers. And then when Caesar introduced the Victor and his friends he had trouble staying in character. He laughed a bit, keeping it as dignified as he could. Victor Hugo's revolutionaries won the battle to the death? Well, look how far they've come. He ran his eyes over all of them, and turned to the rest of the group. He wondered if the dream wine and spirits would have the same effect. It might be useful to get information.
(OOC: Rat makes a really convincing woman, just as an fyi. He'll be happy to charm your boys to get what he wants )
I am so so sorry
Last edit I swear also you have nothing to apologize for
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Marius Pontmercy | ota!
He's panting is heavy when he wakes up again—although, from what he could manage to understand from M. Flickerman's announcement, perhaps "waking up" might not be the befitting phrase. It takes several moments for his muddled mind to process the scenery; the first that comes to clarity is the figure of Enjolras on his throne of books, followed by himself, with his midnight-black coat and trousers and lily-white cravat, and then to Cosette beside him, always a beautiful and calming presence.
As the visions around him continue to de-muddle he eventually discovers that the setting seems a much grander version of the parties at his granfather's house, and he has to curl his hands into fists to stop them from quivering. This is everything he had run away from, everything his grandfather so valued and that his father never had. He despises it. The Paris he loves is not that of the wealth and opulence and lavishness, but of gardens and moonlight and butterflies.
So he gasps in surprise when a trio of iridescent butterflies suddenly do emerge out of thin air.
Butterflies that seem equally perplexed as he, since, after fluttering around him in one complete circle, they seem particularly intent to then fly straight at the face of any person remotely close to him.
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Re: Marius Pontmercy | ota!
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Re: Marius Pontmercy | ota!
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Mindy Macready
Decked out in an ensemble that would have made her dad fall over in laughter, Mindy could barely walk in this thing. Yes, she got bum rushed and it took quite a few people to subdue her when she was finally injected, and then THIS happened. Of all the shit that could have happened to her, appearing like some kind of cosplaying weirdo was really pushing it for her, and clearly Mindy did not look like she was enjoying any of this.
She was off to find someone she knew, so she at least wouldn't be pissed off alone.
Re: Mindy Macready
Nothing wrong with a cheap decoration at a Rave:-D
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Because why not?
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He sighed. "I might survive three hours."
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Sigma Klim, OTA
Sigma arrives 'late', if at all possible in a dream, for the chemical takes some time to traverse the barrier that separated his cybernetic arm from his shoulder. At first the Doctor feels no different, for his prosthetics were identical to the arms he had been familiar with all his young life - tanned, smooth olive skin. His build has not changed either: as he glanced down, he found himself dressed in a frock coat that was not nearly as insulting as his first Crowning's outfit had been; in a handsome dark blue, it almost suited him. It is when Sigma touches his head to feel for a silly hat or another that he notices something was not quite the same (though, it did feel right)- the grain of his hair had turned to something curlier, wiry and soft... Sigma plucked a strand from his head and ran it through his fingers. Black...
Relief spread through Sigma's stomach. In his dream the senior had regained his youth temporarily, but this was no change in his mental identity: this was how the Doctor chose to see himself. Prepared for a lifetime that would eventually reverse itself into youth, like a loop that started back from the beginning, the time traveller had never quite adjusted to his physical age... in fact, only a year ago this had been his body, for months before arriving in the Capitol. While he had slipped into it in disbelief at first, it eventually felt as though he'd never left, and he would have been happy to stay. In addition to of all of that, his love for Diana, for a woman four decades his junior, kept him youthful at heart. It was the way he wished for her to remember him.
Somewhat relaxed by the revelation, Sigma eased into a smile and stepped towards the buffet line. The Doctor did not normally enjoy himself at these crownings, merely tolerating the night - but with his renewed confidence alone he felt he could keep his head raised. If this was 'only' a dream, a temporary state, he may as well make the most of it. In his haste, he hadn't considered he might be indistinguishable from a Tribute fallen long ago...
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Re: Sigma Klim, OTA
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Iskierka
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Cosette | ota
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The Initiate | OTA
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Cuthbert - OTA
Re: Cuthbert - OTA
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Neffa | OTA
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Zoidberg OTA!
Re: Zoidberg OTA!
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Re: Zoidberg OTA!
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Julian Bashir
Re: Julian Bashir
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Re: Julian Bashir
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Terezi Pyrope | OTA
Re: Terezi Pyrope | OTA
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Re: Terezi Pyrope | OTA
Susannah | OTA
Re: Susannah | OTA
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Garrus | OTA
John Watson, OTA
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Re: John Watson, OTA
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Blaine (so late...)
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Cinna
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Dan
I'm still doing our other log, I'm very sorry about the lateness!
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SHARED NIGHTMARE
Wesker, OTA
Would be to undo all the hard work he'd put in thus far.
So he settled, without a word, and let them work. His only reaction to the needle and the unfamiliar solution sweeping into his vein, a tightening around his jaw.
Finding himself at the party, seemingly mere moments later, he had to give them their due. The technology was truly astounding and he couldn't help but immediately turn the possibilities over in his mind, wondering just how much he would be able to do with something like this....
It was just about the time he was imaging being able to wipe the endless waste of hundreds and hundreds of broken clones from the books that he felt the first stirring. The first hard stab in his throat.
Something moving beneath his skin.
A familiar pain, despite how long it had been.
The virus - his virus - coming to life inside him. Fighting back. Fighting him for control.
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Sherlock
if this is not okay just tell me
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Re: SHARED NIGHTMARE
Re: SHARED NIGHTMARE
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Re: SHARED NIGHTMARE
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Shion, OTA (warnings for even more creepy medical stuff)
Re: Shion, OTA (warnings for even more creepy medical stuff)
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OTA
beck - ota!
Shepard | Open To All
Re: Shepard | Open To All
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Justin Law | OTA
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Guy
Re: Guy
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Re: SHARED NIGHTMARE
a million years later
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Mindy's Nightmare. Warning: This is a little graphic.
Re: Mindy's Nightmare. Warning: This is a little graphic.
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Azula / OTA
Fawned over by the press and important figures alike she was spinning her stories of how she always knew Enjolras had potential from the night she had met him, dancing at a Tribute auction.
"He is so well spoken as well, but you know how the creative types are." She would chuckle "Eccentric is the word isn't it?"
She had warned him to watch his mouth. He never listened.
But she was more then happy to quietly assert that she had helped make him into a champion. And many were willing to soak in the lie and believe it as gospel.
It meant the system worked.
It meant life was as it should be.
Re: Azula / OTA
She came sliding up to Azula's side, smile bright and gorgeous. She lightly touched at the young woman's back as she leant forward for not so much an air kiss but rather a brush of her lips across Azula's cheekbone.
A perfectly sweet moment of a well bonded mentor and tribute reunited at a celebration of their District.
Acting wasn't just in the performance. It was also in the timing.
And Diana knew how to act.
Re: Azula / OTA
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