Persephone, the Destroyer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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maskormenacelogs2017-02-05 04:38 pm
pummelgranite) wrote in maskormenacelogs2017-02-05 04:38 pm
February Open Prompts/Catch-all
WHO: Persephone vs everyone
WHERE: various cities
WHEN: through February
WHAT: A few prompts, please poke me if you want something else
WARNINGS: discussion of violence/depression/disordered eating likely as always
A. Nona- A Strange Performance in a Tiny Jazz Club
[ It's not her typical venue, not by a long shot. It's a small space, with a simple stage. She even lets them use their own lights instead of miracling up herself something more impressive. There's no dance floor, and they hardly advertised for her at all. It's more a jazz club than anything else, too small for her sound, really. But that's alright. She's not here to perform her normal mass.
She isn't in high heels, or armor, or war paint. Rather, she comes out in a simple black dress and veil, ornamented with white flowers. What she sings is no persistent climax. The rage and defiance and violence usually typical of her songs is missing as well. Instead, it's something bittersweet and heart-wrenching. It's like an intimate aria sung in that same untranslatable language, but the message is clear: winter will always fade, spring will always come, but there are still so many things lost that can never return. Just because spring is coming, does not mean you will live to see it.
The piano and cello duet that follow her aren't bad either. After her performance, it might seem like anyone else would pale in comparison, but if anything the opposite is true- they, too, sound breathtakingly beautiful in the space that she's blessed. The goddess herself makes her way to the bar. Her normal companions seem absent, and most of the patrons don't dare to make eye contact, let alone approach. Do you? ]
B. The Hotel Castille lounge/lobby, evening
[ Persephone WAS at the bar. But now she's in the beautiful, glittering lobby. She is sprawled in a chair that looks like it cost several normal human's paychecks, in a way quite disrespectful to the quality of the upholstery. Her feet dangle over the back, and her head hangs towards the floor. There's a soft cloud of colorful hair beneath her. In her hands is a notebook, and in her mouth is a pen. Every once in a while she takes the pen out of her mouth to jot something into the notebook, but mostly she's just chewing on the pen.
C. Maurtia Falls Art Museum, reasonable business hours
[ If one were to happen into the museum that day, it would be hard not to miss her. She parks herself on a bench in front of a particular piece of art, and doesn't move for over an hour.
The art in question is probably no surprise- it's a Renaissance work by a not-so-terribly-famous artist, depicting Orpheus playing for Hades and his queen. There are headphones in her ears, and the only sign she gives that she's not a statue herself is pulling out her phone every so often to change her music. ]
D. South Maurtia Historic Cemetery - literally any time you'd like, day or night
[ What the fuck is she doing now? Is she sleeping on a grave? It's a single grave in a family plot, but the headstones are all so old that the names have long since faded. So... yeah. Sleeping on someone's grave. Cool, cool, cool, cool, normal. ]
WHERE: various cities
WHEN: through February
WHAT: A few prompts, please poke me if you want something else
WARNINGS: discussion of violence/depression/disordered eating likely as always
A. Nona- A Strange Performance in a Tiny Jazz Club
[ It's not her typical venue, not by a long shot. It's a small space, with a simple stage. She even lets them use their own lights instead of miracling up herself something more impressive. There's no dance floor, and they hardly advertised for her at all. It's more a jazz club than anything else, too small for her sound, really. But that's alright. She's not here to perform her normal mass.
She isn't in high heels, or armor, or war paint. Rather, she comes out in a simple black dress and veil, ornamented with white flowers. What she sings is no persistent climax. The rage and defiance and violence usually typical of her songs is missing as well. Instead, it's something bittersweet and heart-wrenching. It's like an intimate aria sung in that same untranslatable language, but the message is clear: winter will always fade, spring will always come, but there are still so many things lost that can never return. Just because spring is coming, does not mean you will live to see it.
The piano and cello duet that follow her aren't bad either. After her performance, it might seem like anyone else would pale in comparison, but if anything the opposite is true- they, too, sound breathtakingly beautiful in the space that she's blessed. The goddess herself makes her way to the bar. Her normal companions seem absent, and most of the patrons don't dare to make eye contact, let alone approach. Do you? ]
B. The Hotel Castille lounge/lobby, evening
[ Persephone WAS at the bar. But now she's in the beautiful, glittering lobby. She is sprawled in a chair that looks like it cost several normal human's paychecks, in a way quite disrespectful to the quality of the upholstery. Her feet dangle over the back, and her head hangs towards the floor. There's a soft cloud of colorful hair beneath her. In her hands is a notebook, and in her mouth is a pen. Every once in a while she takes the pen out of her mouth to jot something into the notebook, but mostly she's just chewing on the pen.
C. Maurtia Falls Art Museum, reasonable business hours
[ If one were to happen into the museum that day, it would be hard not to miss her. She parks herself on a bench in front of a particular piece of art, and doesn't move for over an hour.
The art in question is probably no surprise- it's a Renaissance work by a not-so-terribly-famous artist, depicting Orpheus playing for Hades and his queen. There are headphones in her ears, and the only sign she gives that she's not a statue herself is pulling out her phone every so often to change her music. ]
D. South Maurtia Historic Cemetery - literally any time you'd like, day or night
[ What the fuck is she doing now? Is she sleeping on a grave? It's a single grave in a family plot, but the headstones are all so old that the names have long since faded. So... yeah. Sleeping on someone's grave. Cool, cool, cool, cool, normal. ]
no subject
Yeah. So that ain't you? No deals or double acts?
no subject
[ She for her part, seems almost bored of providing the explanation. ]
I'm the Destroyer, Persephone.
no subject
Destroyer of what?
[He says like the name Ghost Rider makes any kind of sense at all.]
no subject
[ She gives a little shrug. Epithets, am I right? ]
no subject
Well, considering the touch of something in her expression earlier, before she'd managed to cover it up, he's comfortable enough to at least shelve the concern for now. He sighs, and rubs a hand over his face.]
I'll move the body. [Since she seemed to be squatting here.]
no subject
[ Said sort of dryly. She can move, she has better spots. But she's curious about this guy. His demeanor seems prrretty different now that he's not on fire, which makes sense, of course. But it is curious. She doesn't bother to cover up her staring. ]
no subject
The act is clearly routine enough for him that his face doesn't even twitch as he pulls it away and disposes of it. He does eventually wander back, though. For whatever reason, maybe even he's not sure.] Why are you sleeping in a graveyard? [There's gotta be less morbid places to sleep. Even if you are named the Destroyer.]
no subject
She considers his question a moment, then cocks her head to the side. ]
Why does your whole face burn off?
no subject
no subject
Anyway, you're serious? Who'd you see it to? Luci? Er- uh. The devil orrrr?
no subject
Yeah. [A shrug, bullshit nonchalance.] He was the only one buying.
[He'd prayed to God, but God couldn't be arsed. So.]
no subject
[ There's a long moment where she chews on the inside of her cheek, still looking at him critically. ]
I have it on good authority that damnnations a pretty good time. Y'know. If you're worried.
no subject
[Okay so, he is worried about that. Most of the time he aggressively Doesn't Think About It, but it's still like, there. Especially with the last time he got ditched by the devil and almost dragged down into Hell. Very rude, the whole thing.]
So I just sent that guy to, what, go have a party? [He's less comforted than he probably should be, here. His mean streak is a lot wider than his self-care streak. A loooot wider.]
no subject
[ She pulls her cigarettes back out and lights another for herself, then holds the box out to him. ]
You're another imPort, right?
no subject
no subject
[ She lifts her arm, showing the faintly glowing UNREGISTERED mark. Big surprised there. In regards to his question, she just shrugs. ]
Got a name?