Mar. 11th, 2017

maximumest: (15)
[personal profile] maximumest
[It's early evening, just as the sun sets in a cascade of reds and oranges that from the other side of the sky there is a sudden intense flare of sickening green to the south, the shade often associated with radioactivity, not healthy plantlife. It's bright enough to throw shadows in the opposite direction, briefly leaving everything for an alarming distance with two shadows, pointing due north in stark contrast with the long eastward shadows of the setting sun.

The greenish light fades before the sun sinks below the horizon, the ground giving only the faintest of shivers some moments later as far north as Haven and Twinsgrace in time to a distant, strangely long roll of thunder. It can be seen far further away than it can be felt, and in its wake life resumes fairly promptly.

Rumors spread fast. An airburst asteroid, perhaps? A comet?? A NUCLEAR EXPLOSION???

And far to the south sits a lone saiyan on a bloody outcropping of rock, staring listlessly at a terrifyingly wide and long dredged line bisecting the small valley before him and a perfectly round hole straight through the mountain directly across there, molten rock cooling around its edges in an angry but dulling red glare. Blood splatters and streaks the rock from quite a height up, the pattern suggesting something or someone had fallen and repeatedly attempted to catch themselves.

Or himself, as the case might be, as those stains and smears lead right to the seated Broly, blood soaking him as well.. and the two new wide appendanges sprawled in awkward angles to either side of him. Long and broad and delicately scaled, they look awfully like unusually large bat wings .. if bats had scales, and if one washed off the coating of drying red. The ragged wounds they emerge from bleed only slowly, but steadily.

He doesn't seem to notice. It's not certain he's really noticing the mountain he's staring at either.

That's it. That's it, that was all he could do.]
scramasax: (1. Pre: WHAT SORCERY IS THIS)
[personal profile] scramasax
[Something's come over Anthony in the past few days.

Maybe it was loneliness, maybe it was the simmering of shame over his own cowardice in stalling in the wilderness, maybe it was the unexpected and unsettling lack of change or oddity he was experiencing, other than when that young girl'd made her downright sudden appearance.

In any case, he's restless now. The relative silence has gotten to feel smothering. The trees feel like they're closing in and when he looks at open spaces, he sees them pulling off of the landscape at an edge and rolling themselves up - him with them - like scrolls. Staying put's going to madden him again; God help him, he needs to leave.

He's already made to. He found a city in the distance - no more delaying or wading; he thought, with a pathetic pang in his heart, that perhaps this is some sort of place of second chances, and maybe he can fight to be part of something again, to deserve it, to atone - and for the first time, he didn't feel a lick of fear or misgiving on the thought of approaching. If it's crawling with pain, or evil, or wrongness, or if he's failing a test of his mind by going there... then he'll just have to face it. Have to. What's coming to him.

He fixed his mind on it, and began walking.

It's twilight now, and he's recently started following a road of continuous flat, gray stone.

And this consistent, purposed movement has left it unignorable how hungry he is. He'd foraged, back where he'd been lying low, but - it occurs to him that, as with speaking to people, he hasn't eaten anything in over a thousand years. He hadn't needed to, technically, but setting the past week against that - he's starting to feel his head swim...

And then... a shape on the side of the road catches his eye. He freezes in his tracks for a moment. Blinks wide at it.

It's a dead doe.

He takes a huffing breath. It's voiced; becomes in part a thin, cushioned sigh.

No, he doesn't have anything to prepare a deer with. But, in spite of himself, he can't seem to make himself care about the conditions. Ohh, yes, it'll have to do...

He heads for it with intent. Gives a quick eyes-narrowed look up and then down the road, in case anyone's watching. No -- no one is...

And with that, he drops onto all fours. Dives onto the carcass face first and starts tearing in. He doesn't question it - too busy eating for that, plus it's comfortable. He didn't realize he was as worn out as he was on top of being hungry until now - feels each of his joints pop, shifts his weight subtly across each of his arms and legs to ensure none of them are missed...

If you stumble by after he's gotten into dinner too much to remember to keep checking for witnesses to his roadkill-eating, then you'll see that the roadkill-eater has the face of a bird and that wrapped in warped, ragged sleeves and leggings, the bends and shapes of their limbs are more quadrupedal than bipedal.]
ruinimpendent: (30)
[personal profile] ruinimpendent
a:
[ If you happen to be around the northwest of Arcrion, there is an odd stall set up near a busy road. A rather messy-looking man - wearing clothes not commonly seen around this sort of place - has set up his own small shop for knitted goods made of oddly soft wool. Shirts, hats, wristbands and scarfs - they're made rather well. If approached, he will give a smile. ]

Pray accept my appearance - I desire to make my way. These are made of special wool - I'll not charge much.

[ He knows it's warm to people, but being a god of flames means he can't feel the cold. Who knows, it might be colder later? If you touch the wool, there is a lingering warmth. It's not love, it's side-effects of being shaved from Belias, the Gigas. ]
b:
[ But even after selling quite a bit of his knitted goods - even after all that - Basch is not happy. Why? Because he was summoned for no purpose that he can see. Those who summoned him fled from the Gigas.

He was taken from happiness. And so, to let out some of that anger, he has shifted to his summoned form in the Gardens... to punch trees. To leave a mark. But he seems... approachable. For a giant monster, who has changed from how he looked - though you wouldn't know it. Because he hadn't been seen before. He's grown taller, and has gotten feathers coming out as a tail - along with this damn overgrown wool. After punching a few trees and watching them burn with his flames, he's moved to just sit down by his destruction. ]
planetary_bonds: (agony)
[personal profile] planetary_bonds
[It's been a good week, week and a half since the first batch of people were brought to this land. Several of them have met up and separated with a plan in mind, and most if not all of them have gotten some kind of magical phone from Yuusei. Everyone Yuusei knows is getting hit up with a message on those very same phones, those able to get video message doing so, and if not, they get a voice message instead.

At first, there's only the sound of clattering, as if someone's fumbling with the phone. The image shakes, and even when it focuses on Yuusei the image is hardly steady, constantly shaking, like he can't keep a good grip on it. He looks...pale. Not in a sick way, but like someone slapped a coat of paint on him. It can't be the video feed's quality, because the (stolen) jacket he's wearing is just as bright as ever, but he still looks washed out. Anyone who hasn't seen him recently might be surprised by his new head of hair, too-it was wild before, but now it's somehow grown into a mane long enough to spill over his shoulders, blue streaks also appearing in it to make a full on tri-colored mess.]

Ah. Everyone-

[CLATTER. The phone slips out of his hand again for some reason, and he hisses as he fumbles for it.]

Sorry. I-my hands- [CLICK CLACK CLICK] -damn-!

[Give him a moment. It looks like he's settled for trying to prop the phone against something, and when that's finally done, he clears his throat.]

Sorry for the trouble. I just ran into a...troubling development.

[He holds up his hands, and for those with video, they can finally see just why Yuusei has been having so much trouble handling the phone. They're just as pale as the rest of his skin, but more importantly-]

My hands...my fingers started merging together. I only have three fingers on each hand, now.

[And what fingers they are! Long, pale, and spindly, with the ends flattening into almost needle-like tips, the middle fingers somewhat bigger and more club-like than the others. They're constantly quivering, like Yuusei can't quite control them right, and his whole hand itself seems to be shaking.]

I can't-achk-It hurts, trying to move my hands. Like pins and needles under my skin. Any projects I'm working on, I think there might be a delay for the time being.

[Obviously. Still, he looks reluctant to admit it. Almost as if on cue, the phone slides out from where he'd propped it up and falls flat on the table with a loud, final CLACK, and he sighs, seemingly giving up on trying to mess with the phone. You're gonna have to deal with a slightly off-center image of Yuusei bending over the phone now, deal with it.]

I just wanted to take the opportunity to ask-has anyone else been experiencing any strange changes? I know I'm not the only one, but a transformation of this level...it has to be a result of what those people did to us, I'm sure of it.

[[ooc: hey ho it's another group mingle post, this time network style. same threadjacking policy applies, just go for it, interrupt each other, have a blast, make fun of yuusei's hair, whatever.][

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