Dream ✍ 007
Effects: Anger. Caution. A sense of trepidation. (Optional)
Warnings: None at all, really. :D Somewhat foreboding, I guess? Hints of the supernatural?
Cue a mouth. A big, gaping, dumb mouth, teeth hanging out in the air. The mouth belongs to a handsome stubbled jaw and an equally handsome Persian nose, framed on either side by a pair of stunned eyes. The video jumps and flickers like a manic schoolboy on a sugar rush. The frame pulls out to reveal muscular arms, a strong torso encased in leather armor, metal plates. It is a man some may know as Dastan, Prince of Persia, member of a small band of assassins that have begun an encampment somewhere in Somni's urban jungle.
Time rushes in fast-forward. The Prince is alone one moment, backed into a corner the next.
A tall man in a long coat bursts into the frame, steely cold and enraged. His face is turned away from the viewer, but judging by his long march and forbidding bearing, he has arrived with explicit intention of seeking out the foolish Prince. The video flashes, the imposing man's fist lances out, Dastan's face contorts in something resembling physical pain. But it is not a direct assault; instead the tall stranger, recognizable as Somarium's own Chief Inspector of Police, merely deposits a small velvet jewel-box at the Prince's breast.
The feed flickers again, this time angled from below. It is the perfect angle for glimpsing the sweat dripping down Dastan's chin, the fierce grimace on Javert's darkened face. Javert pins Dastan to a brick wall single-fistedly, but with surprisingly little force. Soundlessly, the wolfish man mouths,
"Get your own--"
Black. End tape. Cut. Rewind.
Inspector Javert is seated in a quiet cafe. He has selected a darkened corner, a place where he can observe the outside world through the large bay windows without being glimpsed himself. A twin pair of velvet boxes lie on the table in front of him, opened and bare in the dimness. He lights a cigarette, his gunmetal eyes scanning each passing pedestrian's face, gaze straying downwards only during lulls in traffic to blacken still further at the boxed objects.
The Prince walks by. Law-abiding, for once. Convenient. Just in time.
Javert swiftly collects his effects, drops some loose change on the table and slips out in pursuit of his prey.
Cut. Jump. White screen. Rewind.
Our tall, dark and imposing figure is not currently so dark and imposing. His coat is shed. He stands in a modest kitchen, mug of coffee warming his thick fingers. He is watching the ice-blanketed wonderland outside with a semblance of thoughtfulness. A shimmering reflection appears in the window pane, clothed in a black dress and sleek heels.
Javert grins a secret smirk. There are several seconds of a silent, mouthed exchange between the two figures. He downs the remainder of his coffee and turns around--
Stop.
Freeze frame.
Zoom in.
His face is expressionless save for his searing eyes. He briskly crosses the room and snatches at an ornament dangling between the female's breasts. He brings the object closer to his face and opens his palm. A small trinket glimmers in his hand.
Diamonds.
Warnings: None at all, really. :D Somewhat foreboding, I guess? Hints of the supernatural?
Cue a mouth. A big, gaping, dumb mouth, teeth hanging out in the air. The mouth belongs to a handsome stubbled jaw and an equally handsome Persian nose, framed on either side by a pair of stunned eyes. The video jumps and flickers like a manic schoolboy on a sugar rush. The frame pulls out to reveal muscular arms, a strong torso encased in leather armor, metal plates. It is a man some may know as Dastan, Prince of Persia, member of a small band of assassins that have begun an encampment somewhere in Somni's urban jungle.
Time rushes in fast-forward. The Prince is alone one moment, backed into a corner the next.
A tall man in a long coat bursts into the frame, steely cold and enraged. His face is turned away from the viewer, but judging by his long march and forbidding bearing, he has arrived with explicit intention of seeking out the foolish Prince. The video flashes, the imposing man's fist lances out, Dastan's face contorts in something resembling physical pain. But it is not a direct assault; instead the tall stranger, recognizable as Somarium's own Chief Inspector of Police, merely deposits a small velvet jewel-box at the Prince's breast.
The feed flickers again, this time angled from below. It is the perfect angle for glimpsing the sweat dripping down Dastan's chin, the fierce grimace on Javert's darkened face. Javert pins Dastan to a brick wall single-fistedly, but with surprisingly little force. Soundlessly, the wolfish man mouths,
"Get your own--"
Black. End tape. Cut. Rewind.
Inspector Javert is seated in a quiet cafe. He has selected a darkened corner, a place where he can observe the outside world through the large bay windows without being glimpsed himself. A twin pair of velvet boxes lie on the table in front of him, opened and bare in the dimness. He lights a cigarette, his gunmetal eyes scanning each passing pedestrian's face, gaze straying downwards only during lulls in traffic to blacken still further at the boxed objects.
The Prince walks by. Law-abiding, for once. Convenient. Just in time.
Javert swiftly collects his effects, drops some loose change on the table and slips out in pursuit of his prey.
Cut. Jump. White screen. Rewind.
Our tall, dark and imposing figure is not currently so dark and imposing. His coat is shed. He stands in a modest kitchen, mug of coffee warming his thick fingers. He is watching the ice-blanketed wonderland outside with a semblance of thoughtfulness. A shimmering reflection appears in the window pane, clothed in a black dress and sleek heels.
Javert grins a secret smirk. There are several seconds of a silent, mouthed exchange between the two figures. He downs the remainder of his coffee and turns around--
Stop.
Freeze frame.
Zoom in.
His face is expressionless save for his searing eyes. He briskly crosses the room and snatches at an ornament dangling between the female's breasts. He brings the object closer to his face and opens his palm. A small trinket glimmers in his hand.
Diamonds.