ｊｏｓｅｐｈ ｋａｖｉｎｓｋｙ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pillz) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenace2016-02-14 09:32 pm
pillz) wrote in maskormenace2016-02-14 09:32 pm
Entry tags:
- adam parrish | n/a,
- erik lehnsherr | magneto,
- joseph kavinsky | n/a,
- † blue sargent | n/a,
- † dorian gray | n/a,
- † hunter zolomon | zoom,
- † kaito kuroba | kaitou kid,
- † kitty jones | n/a,
- † newton geiszler | n/a,
- † reggie mantle | n/a,
- † richard gansey | raven king,
- † robert callaghan | yokai,
- † satya wallace | n/a
O1 👶 video;
cw implied harm to (fantastical) animal, implied drug use, probably offensive language within ??
[the picture shakes, obviously handheld. when the picture focuses, there's a dragon rampaging down the street, wings flapping, eyes blazing orange, its body built of churning smoke and fire. it has teeth, in terrifying, serrated rows, but that seems somehow less important than the impossible cycling of gas and combustion that form its flesh. the whole situation is very cloverfield. in the background, the sound of human screams rises tinny, shallow.
lower definition than the communicator video.
but there's a reason for that. a discerning eye might notice immediately: the street the monster is running down is empty of people, and there's something wrong with the buildings. not enough detail in the brick, the windows, the pavement, and beyond it, the sky a fuzzy, paint-white blank. when the camera pulls out, reality becomes clear. the city is merely a cardboard model, stylized in a way that will be familiar to some, but this time a rendering of de chima's downtown area rather than sleepy henrietta. the monster, no matter how miraculous, could fit in the size of an ordinary man's palm.
or inside of a drinking glass, as it turns out. the next moment, one such cup plunks down over the creature, trapping it like a spider in the glass. the tiny dragon immediately begins to screech in rage-- or pain; it's hard to tell, but you only need a little imagination and familiarity with fire to consider the consequences.
and then kavinsky squares the camera lens on his face. skinny white boy— young, hollow-eyed and pale, his black hair clotted with too much gel. one earring, wifebeater, probably (definitely) trying too hard, probably (undoubtedly) overly impressed by himself. there is something oddly jittery about his hands, shoulders, the swollen bloat of his dilated pupils. he sprawled inside of a bedroom, generic, unlived-in. past his shoulder, there's a television playing stadium footage of a european football game, hence the poorly dubbed soundtrack. the dragon's outrage grows fainter.
he smiles.]
Made you look.
[he winks, and cuts the feed.]
[the picture shakes, obviously handheld. when the picture focuses, there's a dragon rampaging down the street, wings flapping, eyes blazing orange, its body built of churning smoke and fire. it has teeth, in terrifying, serrated rows, but that seems somehow less important than the impossible cycling of gas and combustion that form its flesh. the whole situation is very cloverfield. in the background, the sound of human screams rises tinny, shallow.
lower definition than the communicator video.
but there's a reason for that. a discerning eye might notice immediately: the street the monster is running down is empty of people, and there's something wrong with the buildings. not enough detail in the brick, the windows, the pavement, and beyond it, the sky a fuzzy, paint-white blank. when the camera pulls out, reality becomes clear. the city is merely a cardboard model, stylized in a way that will be familiar to some, but this time a rendering of de chima's downtown area rather than sleepy henrietta. the monster, no matter how miraculous, could fit in the size of an ordinary man's palm.
or inside of a drinking glass, as it turns out. the next moment, one such cup plunks down over the creature, trapping it like a spider in the glass. the tiny dragon immediately begins to screech in rage-- or pain; it's hard to tell, but you only need a little imagination and familiarity with fire to consider the consequences.
and then kavinsky squares the camera lens on his face. skinny white boy— young, hollow-eyed and pale, his black hair clotted with too much gel. one earring, wifebeater, probably (definitely) trying too hard, probably (undoubtedly) overly impressed by himself. there is something oddly jittery about his hands, shoulders, the swollen bloat of his dilated pupils. he sprawled inside of a bedroom, generic, unlived-in. past his shoulder, there's a television playing stadium footage of a european football game, hence the poorly dubbed soundtrack. the dragon's outrage grows fainter.
he smiles.]
Made you look.
[he winks, and cuts the feed.]
no subject
[ Ah, that strange southern gentleman feeling of rage. How he hasn't missed you. ]
you leave her alone.
[ He doesn't respond to the superhero thing, nor the jibe about his place of origin. He's trying not to think about it. Give Kavinsky an inch and he takes a mile and Adam has been so good at keeping who he is under wraps.
Hopefully no one even notices. ]
no subject
tiny repeatin cartoon ganseys
i thnk she likes me.
no subject
you're more fucked than i thought, then.
no subject
gansey hasnt gotten the spice boys plus pizza eunuch 2 save the world yet
not even once/
no subject
no subject
thought u were smart
no subject
whatever power you have, there are bigger and badder people out there.
no subject
ok
ok how abt i make u a deal
answer the questiona nd i wont talk 2 ur girl 4 a week
no subject
2. No one makes decisions for me.
3. KNOCK IT OFF.
not here;
and when adam's answer dings in, he thumbs away from blue's little message, leaving her to seethe in private. or at adam. or whatever— he doesn't much care.]
oops nvm two different questions lmao
it's as simple as that.
[ ... Sorry, Blue. ]
you got it **/
sounds fuckin boring but u know that seems 2 suit ganseys ass train
no subject
[ Usually he is so cool. Now he just wants to punch something and he can't even blame the sentient trees. ]
stay away from them.
no subject
or ____
no subject
He cares about Ronan. ]
come on, you're the monologue type.
no subject
thats probably a lil bit why u scared of me
comon parrish
scare me back
no subject
[ He is terrified. But Adam has known fear. And Kavinsky is not going to get to him. ]