Kuja (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
finalbows) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sheep_game2024-04-14 08:11 pm
finalbows) wrote in sheep_game2024-04-14 08:11 pm
Entry tags:
hello (heart)gamers. im here w some special guest stars
WHO: all who dare enter angie's literal mind palace. it's OPEN HOUSE! no invites needed!
WHERE: in front of miku's salad (and yours)
WHEN: evening 73.
[ in the middle of running a perfectly innocuous miniquest, Angel Devil falls down.
His clothes have twisted away into bone-white rags, leaving a body covered over with only thick swathes of red fur, and downy feathers. His long tail is curled into a tense arc, banded fur standing on end.
The air wavers like he’s a heat mirage, not a man. He’s boiling away with absolutely stupid amounts of arcane power… and, most frighteningly, he does not seem in control of the fact that it is there and being brought to bear. It’s impossible to get any closer to him.
When he speaks, it’s quite timid. ]
Oh.
Oops.
...Thought I had... a little more time.
[ (and in a blinding flash of light, there is the sound of something breaking.) ]
WHERE: in front of miku's salad (and yours)
WHEN: evening 73.
[ in the middle of running a perfectly innocuous miniquest, Angel Devil falls down.
His clothes have twisted away into bone-white rags, leaving a body covered over with only thick swathes of red fur, and downy feathers. His long tail is curled into a tense arc, banded fur standing on end.
The air wavers like he’s a heat mirage, not a man. He’s boiling away with absolutely stupid amounts of arcane power… and, most frighteningly, he does not seem in control of the fact that it is there and being brought to bear. It’s impossible to get any closer to him.
When he speaks, it’s quite timid. ]
Oh.
Oops.
...Thought I had... a little more time.
[ (and in a blinding flash of light, there is the sound of something breaking.) ]
~KRRSHHK~
[any observers will see, strangely see-through and superimposed on the scene, some kind of vast tree, illusionary roots twisting over and around to frame a door. the door itself is wrought of opaque stained glass in blacks and whites and greys; a stylized rendition of Angie in that strangely ragged, feathered form, curled in on himself, eyes closed. Angie himself is nowhere to be seen. ]
instead, a shadow . . . steps into view from behind the door. for a moment it looks like nothing so much as a second genome – then it turns, gaining features and definition with the movement. The monkey tail separates into three plumes; a ponytail unfurls into wings that lift up from the sides of the head.
. . . well. This is the least I can do before I go, in exchange for the safe harbor.
[she lifts her head, nodding to any observers, and gestures at the door.]
You’ll want to head in there now if you don’t wish to lose your flockmate, I think. Even the false-death of this place won’t be much help to him, if his soul is left to finish pulling itself apart.
My sisters and I can maintain the way into and out of it for you, but we were not made to knit such wounds by ourselves. Have a care.
instead, a shadow . . . steps into view from behind the door. for a moment it looks like nothing so much as a second genome – then it turns, gaining features and definition with the movement. The monkey tail separates into three plumes; a ponytail unfurls into wings that lift up from the sides of the head.
Teleute(?) is here, dressed in her customary black, but there is colour in her skin, and her hair and eyes are blue. she’s frowning.]
. . . well. This is the least I can do before I go, in exchange for the safe harbor.
[she lifts her head, nodding to any observers, and gestures at the door.]
You’ll want to head in there now if you don’t wish to lose your flockmate, I think. Even the false-death of this place won’t be much help to him, if his soul is left to finish pulling itself apart.
My sisters and I can maintain the way into and out of it for you, but we were not made to knit such wounds by ourselves. Have a care.
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[ there were some bits of rope, right? Can he fashion an absolute shit tail out of rope bits? ]
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but in the absolute pinch emergency situation of making this monkey's brain get silently aghast enough he doesn't fucking die, this will do nicely. ]
"...okay! I don't think it's gonna fall off again this time. So... ready to go do the show?"
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welcome to the stage. there's a lot going on out here. an open, empty coffin, at the back wall. painted murals around it of a melancholy goddess of light, and a four-armed, demonic god.
at first the Mist is still too dense to see the audience. then an unseen hand snaps its fingers, and candles and candles and candles throughout the room light up.
...it's a full house. every single seat is occupied by strange objects that look a bit like a nautilus, that you instinctively recognize as-- caskets? beds? places of rest and preservation for dead souls.
they were all waiting for the hosts to put on a good show,
but... in the end, it's just the two of you. a prince doomed to the realm of death, and a little doll with one foot in the grave already.
murmurs of unrest begin to go up from the crowd. ]
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[ he gives the demon god a friendly thump to the chest. if he's intimidated by the audience he doesn't show it. he's used to tougher crowds than this. ]
Ahem hem.
[ rolls his neck and shoulders ]
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[ he projects! he enunciates! ]
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"Nn... no horsing around, though! This... isn't time for games. It's time.. for serious fun!"
[ we're doing it!! we're making THEATRE happen!!! ]
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[ pats his back ]
How do we, erm, make the scene change?
no subject
"Oh! Um! L-like this!"
[ "Bartz" runs over to one of Chaos' arms, on the mural, and-- pushes it down a slightly.
apparently that's actually got moving parts. NEAT.
painted wood props start to shift and pop out, building the next scene of the story. ]
no subject
Erm, wait, do we have a . . . [checks script] Squall? Maybe we should just wing it.