Comments | sirenspull_logs: Sunday, December 18th, The Midnight Channel

thepull_mods in sirenspull_logs

Sunday, December 18th, The Midnight Channel

Dec 18, 2011 00:49

Who: The Port's Latest Shadow Televisions Stars! And Thousands of Home Viewers!
When: Midnight, Sunday, December 18th
Where: In front of your Television Sets or Streaming NV TV. (Digital Cable? You'll still get the analog effect.)
Summary: Full Plot Details Here
Warnings: Please Put 'em In the Subject Lines As Necessary, Kids?

( I try to stop the flow, double-clicking on the go, but it's no use; hey, I'm being consumed )

magneto, hidan, re-l mayer, saint michael, pickles the drummer, *npc: city characters, itou kaiji, claudio kilgannon, *open log, caster, balthazar, franziska von karma, the joker, *event, destiny, dick grayson, winifred "fred" burkle, bruce wayne | batman, rain jewlitt, sam merlotte, larry butz

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flipdatpage December 18 2011, 19:02:56 UTC

[Rip. Rip. Rip. Fade in to a close zoom of Destiny sitting in a chair with his book folded open in his lap. His cowl was down, silvered hair drawn back into a loose low ponytail. His blind eyes fixed on his work at hand. A subtle smile weaving across his features. The aspect's nimble fingers sliding between the pages and tearing them from their binding. Rip. Rip. One at a time the old, weathered parchment flutters to the ground like cast off feathers. Rip. Rip. Rip. He crinkles a few of them in his hand before tossing it away. Rip. Rip. A small, red thread peeks out from between the pages. Easily mistaken for a piece of binding. Destiny thoughtfully grabs it and the walls fold away to reveal space. Stars...galaxies. Vast and encompassing. Empty and void.

He stands on nothingness, the thread still clasped between his fingers. It spiraled forward, woven into the cosmic tapestry. He reaches out, touching the intricate web. His pondering expression darkens, slipping into a scowl.]

No longer shall I observe the traceries of the galaxies as they spiral through space. I shall move them.

[Destiny hand clenches into a fist, twisting the fabric of reality, pulling with all his might until it rips and shreds. It abruptly shifts to the next show.]

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