Catsovi e Viciro (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scornful) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-09-22 11:04 am
scornful) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-09-22 11:04 am
Entry tags:
[OPEN] "I'll post this in a day or three" or you know, five, same thing, I'm rounding up
Date & Time: backdated: late 09/15 - late 09/17 | following the party
Location: Outlands
Characters: a fake ophanim and an asshole and you walk into a bar. the bar is actually post-apocalyptic britain.
Summary: anyone who wants to scrap with Catsovi and the Misery following the Sept 15th party this is the place to do it. CATFIGHTS RRRRRRRRRRREOOOOWWWWWW
Warnings: FIGHTING ALSO HE DIES, GOD FRICKIN' BLESS
He'd finally had to acknowledge the Misery's presence and, even worse, come in contact with it after the ungraceful dissolution of Vanadi's party. They'd escaped the scene together, Cat balancing in the cove of its stationary center as it spun its way out and into the open air, unsteadily, unhappily. Through the ascent Catsovi had watched the Masked moving about and for a moment he'd considered following them back to the United Earth -- and then, just as quickly, lost that thread of thought completely. As if it weren't and never had been an option.
He lost all train of thought then. His khet may have asked him where they were going -- if so, Cat had refused to answer, instead retreating into himself to sulk like a child. So the Misery had taken its own initiative and fled back to the Outlands.
There will be... people coming after him. This is a fact that Catsovi eventually acknowledges.
After a while, it becomes something that he looks forward to.
The Misery's path becomes slow and erratic, weaving in inefficient curves, occasionally even doubling back on itself. It stops spinning so that Catsovi can climb to the very top of it, perching upon the rim of the wheel, turned back towards the city to look for pursuers -- watching, waiting, hoping.
Location: Outlands
Characters: a fake ophanim and an asshole and you walk into a bar. the bar is actually post-apocalyptic britain.
Summary: anyone who wants to scrap with Catsovi and the Misery following the Sept 15th party this is the place to do it. CATFIGHTS RRRRRRRRRRREOOOOWWWWWW
Warnings: FIGHTING ALSO HE DIES, GOD FRICKIN' BLESS
He'd finally had to acknowledge the Misery's presence and, even worse, come in contact with it after the ungraceful dissolution of Vanadi's party. They'd escaped the scene together, Cat balancing in the cove of its stationary center as it spun its way out and into the open air, unsteadily, unhappily. Through the ascent Catsovi had watched the Masked moving about and for a moment he'd considered following them back to the United Earth -- and then, just as quickly, lost that thread of thought completely. As if it weren't and never had been an option.
He lost all train of thought then. His khet may have asked him where they were going -- if so, Cat had refused to answer, instead retreating into himself to sulk like a child. So the Misery had taken its own initiative and fled back to the Outlands.
There will be... people coming after him. This is a fact that Catsovi eventually acknowledges.
After a while, it becomes something that he looks forward to.
The Misery's path becomes slow and erratic, weaving in inefficient curves, occasionally even doubling back on itself. It stops spinning so that Catsovi can climb to the very top of it, perching upon the rim of the wheel, turned back towards the city to look for pursuers -- watching, waiting, hoping.
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