Venus Dee Milo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
celebrityskinned) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-12-25 10:58 pm
celebrityskinned) wrote in thearena2014-12-25 10:58 pm
Entry tags:
I Am a Creature of Mixed-Up Energies [Closed]
WHO| Venus, Shatterstar and Albert
WHAT| Venus meets a member of that X-Force before her X-Force.
WHEN| Week 2
WHERE| Abandoned areas.
WARNINGS| Death.
The science labs are all cleaned out, either in her own scouting missions or in those of the remaining survivors. With food running out, Venus has been going deeper and deeper into the abandoned zones, knowing she's risking setting of whatever's incubating in those eggs. There's no flashlight, so she uses her superhuman energy as a sort of torch, but it leaves her drained and down to only a few jumps a day.
It's all as well, because she's reluctant to leave Albert alone. There's no way of knowing if Jet's waiting on the other side for them, what with no Sponsor gifts. She hasn't presented the idea that maybe they've seen the last of Albert's husband because she doesn't need to; the notion remains unspoken between them, thick and smoggy. In a way, she's already steeled for loss. She's braced to be the support that Albert might need. She's ready to find herself a lacking plug for the hole it'll leave in his heart.
Whenever she tries to ration him with more food, he can tell exactly what she's doing and refuses to eat more at her expense. By now she's just serving equal portions while sulking.
At no point do they discuss that she's going to start killing again, clearing out the playing field of people she's just 'neutral' on in order to lay a path for the ones she feels are 'good'. She's not up to defending the philosophical soundness of appointing herself the arbiter of life and death. Part of her wonders if she's indulging in violence because it's a way to cure boredom, or to satiate that death wish that gnaws at the back of her mind like a rodent. Her subconscious houses some kind of fucked up Count Ugolino, chewing away at the parts of her that want to stay alive as penance. Just because she can't hear that rush of suicidal impulse in her doesn't mean it's not there.
She teleports down into the abandoned zones again. For her, it's like peeling back skins in reality, plucking a new location out of the ether like a string in an onion and pulling herself towards it. She drags herself through time and space and emerges on the other side, in a dark tunnel with liquid around her feet and her hand blazing with energy.
And someone else's form silhouetted down the passage.
"Who's there?"
WHAT| Venus meets a member of that X-Force before her X-Force.
WHEN| Week 2
WHERE| Abandoned areas.
WARNINGS| Death.
The science labs are all cleaned out, either in her own scouting missions or in those of the remaining survivors. With food running out, Venus has been going deeper and deeper into the abandoned zones, knowing she's risking setting of whatever's incubating in those eggs. There's no flashlight, so she uses her superhuman energy as a sort of torch, but it leaves her drained and down to only a few jumps a day.
It's all as well, because she's reluctant to leave Albert alone. There's no way of knowing if Jet's waiting on the other side for them, what with no Sponsor gifts. She hasn't presented the idea that maybe they've seen the last of Albert's husband because she doesn't need to; the notion remains unspoken between them, thick and smoggy. In a way, she's already steeled for loss. She's braced to be the support that Albert might need. She's ready to find herself a lacking plug for the hole it'll leave in his heart.
Whenever she tries to ration him with more food, he can tell exactly what she's doing and refuses to eat more at her expense. By now she's just serving equal portions while sulking.
At no point do they discuss that she's going to start killing again, clearing out the playing field of people she's just 'neutral' on in order to lay a path for the ones she feels are 'good'. She's not up to defending the philosophical soundness of appointing herself the arbiter of life and death. Part of her wonders if she's indulging in violence because it's a way to cure boredom, or to satiate that death wish that gnaws at the back of her mind like a rodent. Her subconscious houses some kind of fucked up Count Ugolino, chewing away at the parts of her that want to stay alive as penance. Just because she can't hear that rush of suicidal impulse in her doesn't mean it's not there.
She teleports down into the abandoned zones again. For her, it's like peeling back skins in reality, plucking a new location out of the ether like a string in an onion and pulling herself towards it. She drags herself through time and space and emerges on the other side, in a dark tunnel with liquid around her feet and her hand blazing with energy.
And someone else's form silhouetted down the passage.
"Who's there?"
no subject
But Mojoworld didn't have gladiator arenas in space. And wasn't called Panem, whatever that was. Shatterstar was not used to this whole fighting in space thing, but he'd spent enough time fighting that he figured he would be just fine in this world. There had still been no sign of Rictor, though, but he had to put aside thoughts of his boyfriend and if he was okay if he had to make it through this arena.
And then he didn't see anyone. He'd fought off more then a few of those evil space dogs, but he hadn't seen people, which should have worried him. Shatterstar didn't do well with worrying. He had a hard time coming up with the feeling of being worried, so he wasn't entirely sure if he should be. Especially when he saw a shadow of what could be a person.
It said something that his inner voice sometimes spoke in Spanish. "No need to concern yourself with my name." That sounded pretty good actually, very mysterious. "It's Shatterstar." And then it got ruined, and he wished for his swords. He felt better with having them in his hand.
"Who are you?"
no subject
Granted, Venus doesn't know the exact legal mechanisms behind it all. She's sure it's more complicated than the story Spike Freeman presented to her, the picture she put together from blurbs on gossip blogs and columns in celebrity magazines. She's been burned by lawyers in the past, too.
She stays where she is, but she lights her hand up to try and arm herself and to clear away the darkness between them. It would be too easy for it to look like the beginning of an attack.