May Open Prompts/Catchalls!

[pummelgranite]

WHO: Persephone and YOU
WHERE: assorted
WHEN: May
WHAT: A rock concert, a motorcycle crash, an awkward moment at Starbeans Coffee
WARNINGS: self harm and drug use in prompts, reference to eating disorders and violence likely in threads



Persephone: Alive! At the Nonah Dome

1. [ It's been a long tedious six months of playing clubs, but hey, that's what you get with sub par management. But tickets had been harder and harder to get ahold of recently, until finally, she's filling up an arena like she deserves.

The bigger crowd does nothing but enhance the power of her song, and the joy of it. Sure, she's singing in incomprehensible tongues about suffering, and rage, and damnnation. But here, like this, hearing it along with another few thousand of her biggest fans? It's transcendent. It's orgasmic. Her security staff is running a little thin, they hadn't realized just how many people in General Admission would be collapsing and fainting, and just how quickly. It's all they can do to clear out the incapacitated and keep the other kids from jumping in to take their place. ]

2. [ Backstage, the opening acts and their entourages (none of them imPorts) are mostly sticking to themselves. Persephone, on the other hand, has a Lucifer cosplayer to either side of her (a lithe girl makes a decent impression of her, the other is a muscular boy in a white suit. There's little actual resemblance there, but somehow he's making it work.) Persephone puts a pill on her tongue and kisses it into the girl's mouth.

Certainly no one would interrupt this tender moment. ]


I crashed my car into a bridge I DONT CARE

3. [ It's about one in the morning, on the road from New York state into Maurtia Falls, still a good ten or fifteen miles out. A bike is driving along the road, looking very much exactly like a normal ride until with absolutely no warning at all, the bike takes a deliberate hard left turn and crashes directly into the side of an overpass.

And then explodes. ]



It's so hard being perfect and adored

4. [ Here's the thing about Godhood, is that you just can't turn it off. You can try to dress discreetly, but you'll find yourself in purple leopard print. Put on shades and a hoodie, see if there's a way to get overlooked, but that's no good either. People are drawn to divinity, whether it's intentionally on display or not.

In Persephone's case (currently hung over, dehydrated, decaffeinated, and on the out with her normal coffee-fetcher) it is really, really, absolutely not intentionally on display. Whereas usually, she would be fine to indulge fans with her cryptic non-answers, and harmless hostility, today she is not in the fucking mood. ]


What part of fuck off do you think it's cute to ignore, huh!? Fuck! Off!!

Comments

3

[glassfall]

[Cinders doesn't think she likes Maurtia Falls. Although she can take care of herself (she thinks), she doesn't like the way some of the people are looking at her.

And then there's an explosion. Trepidation forgotten, Cinders holds out a hand, willing the flames to die, before she runs over to the figure.]

Heavens! Are you alright?

[It's probably not the best question to ask, but give her a break. She's really not used to this.]

Re: 3

[pummelgranite]

[The flames die down to reveal the bike and rider. The bike is nothing but s
twisted metal, barepy usable for scrap. The girl, on the other hand is looking, well, perfect. The only damag3 to be seen on her is a bit of scuffing on her leather jacket, which she simply brushes off.

She look a bit unapreciative. ]

Uh huh.

[glassfall]

[Wait. She knows this girl.]

Persephone?!

[Cinders steps closer, inspecting her.]

You're not hurt at all.

[Is it her ability? No idea. But Cinders is glad she's okay.]

4

[bindsthedead]

[Sabriel vaguely recognizes Persephone- she's not sure if she's ever spoken to her, but she's aware of her as one of the imPorts whose embraced their status as celebrities.

So when she realizes what's going on, she pulls the most enthusiastic fans aside, tracing the mark for silence over their throats with crisp efficiency, one after the other.]

Why don't you give her some space?

[She doesn't raise her voice, but an unspoken go away is clear in her tone.]

[pummelgranite]

[ Persephone vaguely remembers this face as well. Another Chthonic, she's pretty sure- touched by the power of death and the Underworld. It makes her an ally, of a sort, or at least a potential one.

The hush that falls over the crowd is almost unnerving, given her own experiences with being silenced, but it is appreciated. Persephone lifts her drink to the other imPort in a bit of a salute and nods her head. ]


Yeah, why don't you.

[bindsthedead]

[Sabriel doesn't speak for a few moments as the crowd starts to disperse.]

And I thought imPort fans couldn't be any worse.

Private for Tara Markov

[pummelgranite]

[ Persephone is in the Underground when she feels it- or hears it, or what-the-fuck-evers it, the point is she knows that something is moving earth. Something is moving a lot of earth, and doing it in a way that suggests it's probably a someone. And maybe it's a someone that she's been missing.

She clicks her fingers and her vines open the path for her. No matter how many miles it would be on the surface, here in her Underground it's only a few steps through crumbling stone to where she felt the earth move.

From Terra's perspective, there will be a strange hum from the rock, before a number of glowing fines burst through the wall, quickly running in all directions and blossoming huge, shining flowers. It's all very pretty, if a little alarming when an angry-looking goth rocker stomps out of the bramble. ]


Nico!? Nico, what the fuck! Where the fuck have you been, I've-

[ Her mouth clicks shut as she sees the girl. ]

Who the hell are you?

[taraincognita]

[when some strange girl bursts through the rock, tara yelps in surprise, immediately assuming a fighting stance. her eyes glow yellow, and behind her, a jagged icicle of stone forms--ready to be sent towards the girl, if she poses a threat. which tara suspects that she might.

just a bit.]

Who the hell are you?

[her mouth is set in a line, eyebrows seeming dark and angry against the glow of her eyes. she looks threatening, although she's plainly much younger than persephone.]

How did you find me?

[pummelgranite]

[ That suspicion is not so unreasonable. The girl's getup is all black leather and burgundy lace and bright titanium skulls. She has a body like a hitter- no lithe willowy limbs, but dense muscle. There's a strange, otherworldly quality to her- something that seems far stranger than a human or even meta human. Something unalive. Unreal.

She watches this threat display as one might look at a misbehaving puppy, but her eyes are as cold and hard as frozen earth. After a moment, she crosses her arms and leans against her greenery. ]


Nuh uh. Try again.

1 + 2

[couldbebeautiful]

[Veronica hears of Persephone through word of mouth: people in school bitching about how hard it's become to get tickets to her concert, fans speaking in breathy tones about how much they love her, things like that. Veronica's curious enough to get a ticket off a scalper and on the night of the concert she's standing with the rest of the fans, standing out in simple blue (or retro clothes).

Then she hears the song.

It's like—

—kissing JD, feeling him pull at her hair—

—that first hit buzzing in her lungs, alcohol in her veins making her feel like a live wire, is this how Bono must've felt at Live Aid—

—the urge to light a match and set this dump ablaze—

—hell. Or heaven.

Veronica's caught up in the song before she knows it, screaming along with the rest of the fans. Later, she manages to sneak in, with a quick forgery (I'm with the press! she says, brandishing a fake pass) and finds herself backstage, clutching her notebook close to her chest.

What the fuck am I doing, she thinks.

Good question, Heather Chandler says. Veronica spins around, high on adrenaline, but her hallucination vanishes as quickly as she came.

Well, she's come this far.]

[pummelgranite]

[ Unfortunately, Veronica's brainghosts showed up at just the wrong moment, and now she has stumbled right into one (1) deeply unamused-looking Destroyer. It's amazing how someone almost exactly her same height can seem to tower. ]


"Press," huh?

4

[dun_moch]

Fame always has its drawbacks, doesn't it?

[The voice that speaks is an elegant, resonant baritone that seems to fill the area. It's followed by a barely audible thrum of power in the air, and then one of the fans suddenly levitates a foot or so upwards, yelping with surprise. Count Dooku advances out of the shadows with his hand raised, speaking ever-so-politely.]

Pardon my interruption, but I would like a moment to speak with Persephone. Alone.

[He lowers the levitatee and waves a hand, motioning for the rest of the fans to scamper off.]

[pummelgranite]

[ On the one hand, she's kind of fucking done with anyone over the age of majority, let a-fucking-lone anyone old. On the other hand, that was kind of genuinely cool. Gods aren't so great at using power against humans without breaking them, after all.

And so, in a breathtaking display of magnanimity, she doesn't tell him to go fuck himself for thinking that his company could possibly be in any way preferable to her fans'. Instead she watches cooly and goes about dumping absurd quantities of sugar into her latte. ]

Neat trick.

2

[craftpunk]

Wow.

[ Honestly? Woden knew that Laura Wilson -- the creepiest of fans -- was still not over Lucifer? Even now? That was really something. It was a lot of something, which really made Woden remember how much he honestly didn't like Persephone, and how much he knew that apparently she didn't. Which, again, honestly? Was pretty great.

She didn't know that he'd given up his Valkyries, or that it was because she'd threatened the living daylights out of him. He wasn't about to admit to that, certainly. No reason to let her know that she'd made him mess his leathers once or twice. ]

Do I even have to say anything, or are you fully aware of how... weird this is.

[ Like. Coming from Woden, that's saying a lot. ]

[pummelgranite]

[ Wow. WOW. Of all the boner killers, it just has to be the worst, doesn't it. How did he even get back here? She makes the mental note to just fire her security entirely.

It would be time to show him what for, but to be honest she's already three sheets to the wind, and she doesn't particularly want to stand again unless it's to let someone peel her skinny leather pants off. ]


When I want your opinion, you can fuck off, because no one ever want your opinion.

YOU KNOW WHAT

[khajidont]

[ Jaime's been restless ever since the dreaming, which makes him fidgety. When he's fidgety, he goes on patrol. When he's too fidgety for even patrol, he goes flying aimlessly, and waits to see if anything exciting comes to him, at which point he can make himself useful and make himself feel marginally better about himself, which is how he arrives around Maurtia Falls, more or less floating uselessly around without really thinking about much in particular.

At least without thinking about much in particular until a motorcycle zooms past, which, you know, isn't great. Speeding isn't something he particularly condones. And then it turns, smashes into a wall, and Jaime is left speeding towards it at high-speed. If he thought someone was there to hear him, he would stay quiet, maybe ask if they're okay. Instead, assuming that the driver is dead as a doorknob, he yells, ] Holy shit!

[pummelgranite]

[ And that would be a reasonable assumption! But instead of doornail dead, a figure saunters casually out of the blaze, without so much as a hair out of place. It looks, for a moment, like she might have scuffed her jacket, but no. That's just a little dirt that she casually brushes off. Her eyes meet his, and she makes no secret that she is displeased with company. ]

You kiss your sexy hive queen with that mouth?

[ She spares a moment to consider: how fucked up would it be if this guy doesn't actually have a sexy hive queen? So fucked up. ]

4

[aboveand]

[Terry doesn't actually see the person yelling, and he doesn't recognize the voice, but he does know that tone all too well. He drops Ace's leash, the giant Great Dane way too recognizable for the stunt he's about to pull, and discreetly points up to a nearby rooftop. Ace complies, flying up to the ledge and laying down with his head on his paws, immediately bored.

Once dog free, he points up at the sky with the hand that doesn't give him away as an imPort and yells in his thickest Brooklyn accent:]

Oh my god, it's Iron Man!

[He's tried yelling the names of a couple of the various well-known superheroes since arriving, but for some reason Iron Man works the best.

Whoever he is.

Sure enough, heads turn to follow Terry's finger up to the air, several pointing as if they had seen him too. Taking advantage of the temporary distraction, he swoops in and gently guides the yelling woman in the shades and hoodie away from the man interested in her after first giving his most disarming smile. For good measure, he adds under his breath:]

This only works if you're at least a block away by the time he looks back down.

[Maybe it's the hoodie, maybe it's Terry's desire to get the woman away from the native guy before some kind of fight broke out, but whatever the reason he still doesn't recognize the woman right next to him... yet.]

[pummelgranite]

[ She snorts, and lowers her shades to look at who her ~charming rescuer~ is. ]

Uh huh. A block.

[ Then she snaps her fingers a oh it's our old friend tentacle vines popping out of the ground. Though at the moment they are glowing faintly green and opening up a staircase for her down into the earth. ]

So what do you want, an autograph?

4

[thelasttsviet]

I doubt you're going to have much luck screaming at them.

[Shelke's quiet, disinterested voice chimes in from where she was perched-cross legged on a bench nearby, reading. It was just a random coincidence that she was in the right place to see the singer screaming at one of her fans, but she'd met her before, and frankly, didn't much see the point in holding her tongue.]

[pummelgranite]

[ It took a moment to place the girl, but she does get it. She's from Thanksgiving. She'd been quiet, awkward. Held herself like humans were unfamiliar.

Good to see she's feeling more comfortable, huh? ]

You might be surprised.

1

[andtherevolution]

[Being an imPort means being free advertising wherever you go, and being free advertising means getting free stuff. Utena has mixed feelings about the perks of her new status, but she's also bored, broke, and drowning in free time. So why not go to a free concert? Besides, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious about the headliner, Persephone. It's time to see just what these rock gods can do.

So she shows up, wearing the most fashionable clothes she can salvage from hand-me-downs and secondhand stores. It works in a grungy, worn down sort of way, but the last thing on people's minds is anyone's appearance. Their attention is on the show. The excitement in the air is palpable, and Utena cranes her neck up, trying to get a better view.

Then the music starts. Utena's not sure what to expect, but it certainly isn't this. She can feel her throat go dry and her body go still. She doesn't know if she's breathing. She doesn't even know if she can. People are starting to scream, but Utena doesn't hear them. All she can hear is the music, and time slows as the message washes over her, like a tide that threatens to drag her from the shore.]

[pummelgranite]

[ It's not only the sound of the song, though that of course is powerful and beautiful and heart-rending. Around the singer, spectral brambles are growing and writhing and spreading and blooming. Could that really just be a projection? Special effects? Then how does it smell like a flower she can't name? Not a rose, but something she remembers, surely . . .

There's a sense of awe that permeates the audience, that Utena may be feeling as well. This is what it means to witness a miracle: here is a thing that is shining and eternal. The power to change the world. It's not just fleeting memories of a kind prince, or the empty promise of "princess." This is powerful and tangible, real and here.

And then Persephone's eyes meet Utena's, and in that moment, it's excruciating. But Persephone does not look away from Utena, and it feels like the incomprehensible words of the song were meant for her and her alone. And no, it's not like the awe inspired by a merciful prince, not at all. It's the all-encompassing darkness of grief. It's the clench of the gut when you realize again and again what "never see them again" truly means. It's the taste of bile in your mouth when you slow down enough to let yourself see what a rotten place the world can truly be. It's a coffin lid slamming shut. It's a sword through the back. It's hell.

She tells her that this pain won't stop. She tells her that the world will never be fair. She tells her that that the hole in her heart in the shape of her parents will never truly scar over, that she will never be done mourning until the day she goes into the ground. But until that day, she promises, the brave can be stronger than the pain. Scream and cry and break, that's unavoidable. But fight. Grab the blade of your enemies in your bare hands. When they make you bleed, spit your blood in their face.

This is hell, this is hell, this is hell and there's no escape. Not really. But she is queen of this hell. She is the god of this hell. And she will bless every soul that's damned here with her.

Then Persephone's eyes move on, and the absence of her grace is as startling and intense as its presence was. It's a moment of spiritual and emotional free fall that nine times out of ten just knocks her fans the fuck out. ]

Maurtia Falls Chilton Soon-to-be-Memorial Institution for Creeping On Nutjobs - Private to Harley

[pummelgranite]

[ Persephone arrives really only a few minutes late for her appointment. She comes dressed as inconspicuously as she can, which in this case means a scarlet trench coat and the largest sunglasses Armani offers. But hey, at least her hair is braided and she doesn't have half her face painted red. That's . . . something, right? (Inanna wasn't wrong. Inconspicuous is hard.)

Once checked in, she waits outside Dr Quinn's office and glues her attention to her phone. ]

[itistolaugh]

[ The doctor arrives a few minutes even later, coming from through the waiting room with a steaming mug in each hand and clipboard tucked under her arm. She's almost a convincing mask of professionalism, but her lips are two shades too red and her heels are impractically high. ]

What's up, Carmen Sandiego. You want the coffee, or the hot cocoa?