Bucky Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sidecars) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2016-11-13 11:01 pm
sidecars) wrote in maskormenacelogs2016-11-13 11:01 pm
Entry tags:
- † daryl dixon | the angel,
- † dorian gray | n/a,
- † elliot alderson | mr robot,
- † flynn scifo | n/a,
- † haen hithiel | chatterbug,
- † jacob taylor | the protector,
- † kyle conlen | red hot,
- † magicman | n/a,
- † mako mori | n/a,
- † motoko kusanagi | the major,
- † richie foley | gear,
- † rita mordio | n/a,
- † skeets | n/a,
- † thaddeus 'rusty' venture | doc,
- † yuichiro hyakuya | n/a
I Wish I Had a Castle in the Sky ( OPEN )
WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: All over America
WHEN: Nov. 14th-24th
WHAT: The Cosmic Cube is creating multiple realities for all the imPorts. Where are these "universes" coming from and who is wielding it? Are you strong enough to withstand the temptation of a new reality and thwart this misguided attempt at happiness?
WARNINGS: N/A
Hey, Davis! Did you move anything? I've got that Barnes kid's stuff logged. [ He has a digital tablet propped up on a clean, steel table full of plastic bags and baskets filled the different paraphernalia. It's rather reminiscent to an experience in the American security line at the airport. One such basket belongs to James Buchanan Barnes. ] Think something's missing. Says six item's logged, but only—Davis?
[ The man was right there a second ago, wasn't he? Looking around there's no signs John Davis had been there at all, except for in his memory. Shit, has he been talking to himself this whole time? Well, it isn't anything important. The string bean isn't going to miss one dumb little paperweight or whatever it was.
Little does he know just how powerful it is... ]
[ John spares no time or energy leaving Cap Canaveral. He doesn't even put up his cleaning cart before he's zipping through security at the blink of an eye. People've been calling him crazy for so long it's isolated him from the regular rhythm of society, but it's all been worth it for this chance. He will be a hero finally, just like the rest of the imPorts he idolizes. People will start to think twice about him and everyone else with powers. They will have the rights they need to protect this country and keep the Commies out.
This is the energy driving him to hold a dangerous item in his possession. He doesn't know a whole lot about it, only what he's gleaned from gossip rags and conspiracy theory websites. But it's worth the chance to find himself in prison, or worse. In the security of his lonely little apartment he holds the Cube in his hands as it pours out tremendous power. Without words it becomes in tune with his inner self and his wishes. It feeds off of it to create something more than itself. In his world imPorts will have just what they want, whatever it is, however contradictory.
But in truth, what good can come out of a thief too wrapped up in his own fantasies? That is no hero, and John cannot truly control the power he is playing with. As it feeds, the air around him turns hot—too hot to even breath. It's like the oxygen is burning up before it reaches his lungs. The world around him begins to fade as he holds on for dear life, but in the end his consciousness is snuffed out; a small sacrifice for a new world. ]
WHERE: All over America
WHEN: Nov. 14th-24th
WHAT: The Cosmic Cube is creating multiple realities for all the imPorts. Where are these "universes" coming from and who is wielding it? Are you strong enough to withstand the temptation of a new reality and thwart this misguided attempt at happiness?
WARNINGS: N/A
Hey, Davis! Did you move anything? I've got that Barnes kid's stuff logged. [ He has a digital tablet propped up on a clean, steel table full of plastic bags and baskets filled the different paraphernalia. It's rather reminiscent to an experience in the American security line at the airport. One such basket belongs to James Buchanan Barnes. ] Think something's missing. Says six item's logged, but only—Davis?
[ The man was right there a second ago, wasn't he? Looking around there's no signs John Davis had been there at all, except for in his memory. Shit, has he been talking to himself this whole time? Well, it isn't anything important. The string bean isn't going to miss one dumb little paperweight or whatever it was.
Little does he know just how powerful it is... ]
[ John spares no time or energy leaving Cap Canaveral. He doesn't even put up his cleaning cart before he's zipping through security at the blink of an eye. People've been calling him crazy for so long it's isolated him from the regular rhythm of society, but it's all been worth it for this chance. He will be a hero finally, just like the rest of the imPorts he idolizes. People will start to think twice about him and everyone else with powers. They will have the rights they need to protect this country and keep the Commies out.
This is the energy driving him to hold a dangerous item in his possession. He doesn't know a whole lot about it, only what he's gleaned from gossip rags and conspiracy theory websites. But it's worth the chance to find himself in prison, or worse. In the security of his lonely little apartment he holds the Cube in his hands as it pours out tremendous power. Without words it becomes in tune with his inner self and his wishes. It feeds off of it to create something more than itself. In his world imPorts will have just what they want, whatever it is, however contradictory.
But in truth, what good can come out of a thief too wrapped up in his own fantasies? That is no hero, and John cannot truly control the power he is playing with. As it feeds, the air around him turns hot—too hot to even breath. It's like the oxygen is burning up before it reaches his lungs. The world around him begins to fade as he holds on for dear life, but in the end his consciousness is snuffed out; a small sacrifice for a new world. ]
no subject
"I'm not afraid of you," he explains, though maybe he is a little, because she's strong, and she has the gun now. If he believed in anything he would probably be praying. "But if you're not real, then what the hell is real?" And what was real, how much of everything she does and says is designed? Can she lie? If something makes her activate tear ducts because it seems situationally appropriate but she can't really experience the emotion of sadness, aren't those tears a lie?
God, this is fucked up. He can't think when she's standing this close, it's too uncanny valley. He takes a step back, rubs the short buzzed hair at the back of his head in agitation. "I can't do this. You're — I thought you were perfect." Perfect, or perfect for him? How deep does this go? Jesus. He's verging on hyperventilation now.
no subject
Computers. Virtual reality. Hacking. His machines, his code, his language. Her eyebrows twinge, her voice adopting a mildly ironic tone, although that tension hasn't left it. Without looking, then, with fast and ready fingers, she ejects the clip from the pistol in her hands, splitting an object that was one into two, and she turns aside to place them down, even as she maintains eye contact.
He thought she was perfect. There's a flicker of something subtle behind her expression, the easy return of emotional affect.
Elliot is backing away from her. He says he isn't afraid, but his breathing, quick and shallower, indicates to her otherwise. Or perhaps it isn't fear, but something like it, an overwhelming. In the past, placing her hands on him would have helped rein him in, but given givens--
Daenerys affords him his space.
"I thought you could help me," she counters. "And I still believe you can. I still believe you would."