this is all that I know. [ in-progress; OPEN ]
Characters; homicidelines and you.
Setting/Location; New Utopia, IDK SOMEWHERE.
Date & Time; Day 7, morning.
Warnings; rrrr, violence and language, I guess. also, possible light molestation definite medium molestation. )8 promise anything aggressively affecting anyone else's characters will be cleared beforehand, though! ♥
Briefing; Vocal's been dragged to another place he doesn't want to be, he still can't use as much of his power as he should, and he really wants to beat the hell out of that holy kid in particular.
Vocal hadn't wanted to leave the shithole of -- Valora, whatever, he didn't fucking care what it was called. It was a shithole, everything was a shithole. He'd been dragged against his will and stamped or whatever and that magic had felt fucking weird and he hated it, he hated all of this, and he hated Bass for sending him here and he knew that he had, the bastard, even if these morons around him didn't know it or accept it.
His mood was getting progressively worse, and he wished that he had Orgel around to beat up and pick on. His hands ached to punch, to feel broken facial bones under his fists, and he wanted desperately to get the feeling of that weird magic out of his body, and now he saw buildings, and all he wanted to do was destroy them.
With a roar, he leapt up, his wings extending somewhat and growing larger to accommodate the height he planned to reach. He wanted to make this place -- New Utopia, the assholes had called it, Utopia, peaceful and friendly and all that retarded bullshit that made him just want to puke -- he wanted to make it look like Dal Segno. There was a pretty place, fucked up and torn apart and full of all those corpses ah--!
Vocal couldn't kill anyone so they stayed dead, which infuriated him to the point where he wanted to avoid trying. But he could go after the city itself, so with another roar he swung the large ball-and-chain ensemble on his left wrist.
Setting/Location; New Utopia, IDK SOMEWHERE.
Date & Time; Day 7, morning.
Warnings; rrrr, violence and language, I guess. also, possible light molestation definite medium molestation. )8 promise anything aggressively affecting anyone else's characters will be cleared beforehand, though! ♥
Briefing; Vocal's been dragged to another place he doesn't want to be, he still can't use as much of his power as he should, and he really wants to beat the hell out of that holy kid in particular.
Vocal hadn't wanted to leave the shithole of -- Valora, whatever, he didn't fucking care what it was called. It was a shithole, everything was a shithole. He'd been dragged against his will and stamped or whatever and that magic had felt fucking weird and he hated it, he hated all of this, and he hated Bass for sending him here and he knew that he had, the bastard, even if these morons around him didn't know it or accept it.
His mood was getting progressively worse, and he wished that he had Orgel around to beat up and pick on. His hands ached to punch, to feel broken facial bones under his fists, and he wanted desperately to get the feeling of that weird magic out of his body, and now he saw buildings, and all he wanted to do was destroy them.
With a roar, he leapt up, his wings extending somewhat and growing larger to accommodate the height he planned to reach. He wanted to make this place -- New Utopia, the assholes had called it, Utopia, peaceful and friendly and all that retarded bullshit that made him just want to puke -- he wanted to make it look like Dal Segno. There was a pretty place, fucked up and torn apart and full of all those corpses ah--!
Vocal couldn't kill anyone so they stayed dead, which infuriated him to the point where he wanted to avoid trying. But he could go after the city itself, so with another roar he swung the large ball-and-chain ensemble on his left wrist.