Friday, December 16th, The Midnight Channel

[thepull_mods]

Who: The Port's Latest Shadow Televisions Stars! And Thousands of Home Viewers!
When: Midnight, Thursday December 14th
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?

Comments

(Warnings: blood and hand puppets) 1/2

[drinkthebleach]

[The feed opens with a bright blue sky and fluffy clouds, slowly panning down to a picturesque neighborhood that would make a Norman Rockwell suburb look like Gotham City. As the theme song twinkles in the background (first on the xylophone; then descending onto the keys of a piano), the camera continues to float down the street towards one residence in particular.

Camera feed transitions inside the house (or the television set made to look like the inside of a house), and who's that coming through the door? It's Pickles the Drummer, from Dethklok. Though there are some discrepancies in his appearance that make the entire picture seem...off. It's not just the glowing yellow eyes: his piercings are missing and his dreads are pulled up. He's wearing khakis. He's walking over to the closet by the front door, taking off his coat and replacing it with a fuzzy, forest green cardigan sweater. Gently singing as he does so:] When your world, it starts to fall apart, look deep within, within your lonely heart. Do your best, my friend, try and

(Warnings: blood, adult language, and still hand puppets) 2/2

[drinkthebleach]

[The music becomes significant, as Pickles turns to look straight at the camera.] ...Sometimes the toughest thing in the world to do is tell someone how yer feeling. I bet a lot of you out there wanna keep it all bottled up inside because you don't wanna hurt someone else, or yer scared of being put down by others for bein' gay an' overly sensitive. [As Pickles talks, the paper heart in his hands continues to melt into human blood, seeping between his fingers and onto his lap, until the couch starts to look like a pretty nasty crime scene.] ...You just don't deal with it. You might tell yerself that yer own feelings are stupid, an' you shouldn't feel them, no more. Then you start to feel even worse 'cause then yer responsible, an' you can't stop it.

[Nathan the Puppet grunts.] Why the fuck do people do that?

There's nothin' pathetic or shameful 'bout yer feelings. In fact, sharin' yer feelings makes you feel good, and brings you closer to the people that really care about you. 'Cause the people that care 'bout you don't want you to

Re: (Warnings: blood, adult language, and still hand puppets) 2/2

[doeswhathewants]

[Not for the first time he wonders what sort of show this is and just how much acid Pickles had to have dropped to be talked into doing it.

...was he wearing a cardigan?!]

Call | [ Action? ]

[boundbytreason]

[ It was nearly laughable in seeing Pickles utter the kind of encouragement that she would give another, albeit sans the hand puppets and his style of speech. However, the glowing, yellow eyes gave away the true nature of the show's evening star. Just how many would there be every evening? Nevertheless, she could focus on untangling the mystery at a late date. For now, she had a feeling that a certain drummer wouldn't take to seeing his face on the screen and speaking about sharing feelings, judging by their first conversation

[scene w/Kurt has warning for character death and violence.]

[mediumdrip]

When the static clears enough for you to see the figure there’s still darkness behind him. Blaine glares at the screen. His hair isn’t the carefully maintained gelled masterpiece it usually is. His curls move down over his forehead and around his ears. His thick eyebrows seem darker than they ever really do, in part because his eyes glare so harshly that the shadows play off the hair. His jaw is tight, rage showing through in the tension of muscles of his face as they move when he speaks.

"You know what really pisses me off?" he asks after a moment. His face moves to the side, as if he’s maintaining himself from punching the camera. "Every single one of you." Each word is punctuated by the cold fury in his voice.

"I mean it. You are all a bunch of cowards. And people have the balls to call me a faggot? You're the idiots who spend all your days here trying to make an actual life. You're the morons playing house and pretending that what we do here actually mattersHe spits to the side, showing his disgust over the idea. "Do you know

[showbizpanache]

[ Kurt hasn't tuned in to the Midnight Channel before tonight--he isn't much of a night owl, after all, but tonight he'd decided to have a little coffee and stay up. It's been a while since he and Blaine had the apartment to themselves to watch romantic movies together, after all.

He'd dozed off against Blaine, though, and when he stirred awake he'd wanted to call Rachel and check up on her. The television catches his eye, however, and as he watches his expression goes from confused to horrified to deeply hurt.]

What...?

[mediumdrip]

[Blaine watches. His own expression one of shocked horror. He doesn't remember making any video like that and he wouldn't say those things.

The line about Kurt makes him stop feeling stunned as his emotions shift to anger. Someone must be playing some kind of horrible trick on them. The emotional reaction he has lashes out before he can stop it. All the warning signs that his powers are about to react to something get ignored as the tv cracks, the sound loud and horrible. The glass screen shatters and spills over the entertainment center.

Blaine jumps up at the sound, disgusted and annoyed. He can't even say anything to Kurt. It seems obvious to him that Kurt should know that that wasn't him so he doesn't even bother to try to say it, at least not yet.]

[showbizpanache]

[He shrieks as the television cracks and gets to his feet, looking outraged.]

What the hell is wrong with you?

[flipdatpage]

[In the sparse room once more. Everything was gray and covered in a layer of dust, like it had not seen the light of day or the breath of fresh air in ages. Out of sight, out of mind. Destiny stands in the center, an inky black shadow cast over the upper half of his face. He, too, wears gray. The great tome folded shut in his hands.]

He told me to burn it, but I chose not to. A plan was a plan...but I am done now.

[He drops the book. It lands with a solid thud that reverberates in the room. The displaced dust swirls and swims. The gray peels like burnt paper, shriveling to reveal swirling color beneath. A pulsating swarming mass of words, colors, and shapes. It was a realm that was not his, but maybe...maybe he would travel there because he wanted to, not because it was deemed that he must or must not.]

I shall make a path for myself because I am free. She offered me the key and I gladly accept. I reject my burden. It is not mine to bear any longer.

Someone else may have it.

reaction;

[servingfather]

[He's not even sure how to handle this. In the archangel's mind he's seeing it in so many ways. Sure Michael sees it as Destiny choosing freedom over destiny - like so many of his siblings have before, but also as a possibility that he doesn't have to follow the Plan laid out for them. Destiny looks like hope.

But then there's the view from the abandoned son: the one who watched God walk away from His job, the one who took on the duties that were never meant to be his - the duties that made him so very weary. And Michael resents Destiny for it.

And there's always the good son perspective. The one that wishes to take on the job, that wants to make his Father proud and carry the burden so the plan can be followed by someone who wants to save humanity. For that he feels respect.

Yet from the Commander's position it's a sign of desertion. The plan can't just be tossed aside for just anyone to have at it. That's dangerous in the wrong hands and not even Destiny should be able to just discard something that important. And that

reaction/action the next day;

[paterelohim]

[He sees it. Oh, of course He sees it. It strikes at something deep in him, the part that has defined His worldview and "Plan" for so long- the secret part. The side of God that nobody knows, that His own angels would deny to the Earth's end.

Seeing that book fall to the ground makes Him smile. This is how it should be.

Chuck doesn't know where to go to find Destiny. He doesn't know where Destiny spends his time, but he figures a library is a decent place to start.]