I am Terra, Destroyer of Teacups [Closed]
Who: Terra
What: Sari more or less dares Terra to make herself known. Terra does so. Destructively.
Where: the carnival
When: September 2, dead of night
Terra loves the night. It envelopes her and keeps her safe. She has never been afraid of the dark, and she doesn't hate being outside or being cold or sleeping on the ground. She's gotten used to it, really.
Since coming to Nautilus, she's become rather nocturnal. She practices by night, working nonstop to regain her powers. She doesn't understand how she lost them in the first place or why they come back so slowly, but she doesn't need to understand. She just needs to do it. She'll go crazy if she doesn't have her powers. (She may be crazy already.)
She's also been taking pages out of her master's book. Lurk. Study inhabitants and dynamics. Learn your surroundings and formulate plans. Terra has been watching. She has mapped the Southern District and now knows where nearly everything is. But before she moves on, there is one thing she must take care of.
Last night, she found the Carnival.
Terra does not like carnivals. And now that she has her powers (mostly) back, it's time to take out her frustrations.
The first thing she does is blast the ticket booth off its foundations. It crashes and splinters into a wooden wreckage twenty feet away. Next goes the water gun booth. Two boulders from either end crush it inward, accordion-style. Stuffing from cheap prizes--bears, dragons, and Spongebobs--goes flying, and the water from the pumps squeezes out from beneath the rocks. It's a good start.
Next are the teacups. Terra smashes them one by one, then wrenches the entire metal framework in different directions. It creaks and screeches horribly as she tears it apart. Then she concentrates while crouched, and slowly. Lifts. Up. The center gives way with a scream of metal to a huge spike of earth. The teacups have successfully been impaled.
There is a small roller coaster on the edge of the park. It lacks loops or terrific heights. It's easy to punch the track full of holes and obliterate the cars parked at the end.
Then there's a Ferris wheel. Terra knows exactly how to sink this, and she means it literally. With a massive effort (probably her last for the night), she opens a chasm and lets the wheel tumble to the ground as its balance disappears. It makes a terrific crash, music to her ears, but the noise will definitely attract unwanted attention. Just one more place to go.
The fun house. A hall of mirrors.
Terra summons hundreds of pebbles, none bigger than her own fists, and walks inside. She will make this quick. If she looks in the mirrors, she might stop and think and really look at herself. So she takes the halls at a run, spraying pebble after pebble to her sides. The mirrors shatter and crash to the floor and shatter more when they hit, and the sound is dischordant; it is chaos in musical form. Terra runs faster and doubles back to pick up the pebbles again and then keeps going.
She has smashed every mirror, and now she comes to the end of the hall. The last mirror is not concave or rippled. It does not make her short or skinny or turn her upside-down.
It is a flat, normal mirror. And she looks into it before she can stop herself.
Oh, whatever. She fell into this trap back at Titan's Tower, when she'd found Beast Boy's mirror box. She would smash this mirror faster than she'd thrown that against the wall. And she does. Every pebble she has on her finds itself quickly lodged in that mirror, destroying her reflection. Job well done.
Terra books it out now, leaving the carnival in complete ruins. The noise should have attracted someone, but Terra will be long gone by the time day rolls around and people really see what she's done. She may not be able to carry herself on a rock, but she can run. She'll run all the way north if she has to.
When she reaches the forest, she knows she's safe. The moss on the ground muffles her steps, and even though she breaks twigs once in a while, the forest as a whole takes the sound and traps it in the leafy undergrowth. She doesn't stop until she hears the river, and then she crouches beside it to rest.
That went well.
What: Sari more or less dares Terra to make herself known. Terra does so. Destructively.
Where: the carnival
When: September 2, dead of night
Terra loves the night. It envelopes her and keeps her safe. She has never been afraid of the dark, and she doesn't hate being outside or being cold or sleeping on the ground. She's gotten used to it, really.
Since coming to Nautilus, she's become rather nocturnal. She practices by night, working nonstop to regain her powers. She doesn't understand how she lost them in the first place or why they come back so slowly, but she doesn't need to understand. She just needs to do it. She'll go crazy if she doesn't have her powers. (She may be crazy already.)
She's also been taking pages out of her master's book. Lurk. Study inhabitants and dynamics. Learn your surroundings and formulate plans. Terra has been watching. She has mapped the Southern District and now knows where nearly everything is. But before she moves on, there is one thing she must take care of.
Last night, she found the Carnival.
Terra does not like carnivals. And now that she has her powers (mostly) back, it's time to take out her frustrations.
The first thing she does is blast the ticket booth off its foundations. It crashes and splinters into a wooden wreckage twenty feet away. Next goes the water gun booth. Two boulders from either end crush it inward, accordion-style. Stuffing from cheap prizes--bears, dragons, and Spongebobs--goes flying, and the water from the pumps squeezes out from beneath the rocks. It's a good start.
Next are the teacups. Terra smashes them one by one, then wrenches the entire metal framework in different directions. It creaks and screeches horribly as she tears it apart. Then she concentrates while crouched, and slowly. Lifts. Up. The center gives way with a scream of metal to a huge spike of earth. The teacups have successfully been impaled.
There is a small roller coaster on the edge of the park. It lacks loops or terrific heights. It's easy to punch the track full of holes and obliterate the cars parked at the end.
Then there's a Ferris wheel. Terra knows exactly how to sink this, and she means it literally. With a massive effort (probably her last for the night), she opens a chasm and lets the wheel tumble to the ground as its balance disappears. It makes a terrific crash, music to her ears, but the noise will definitely attract unwanted attention. Just one more place to go.
The fun house. A hall of mirrors.
Terra summons hundreds of pebbles, none bigger than her own fists, and walks inside. She will make this quick. If she looks in the mirrors, she might stop and think and really look at herself. So she takes the halls at a run, spraying pebble after pebble to her sides. The mirrors shatter and crash to the floor and shatter more when they hit, and the sound is dischordant; it is chaos in musical form. Terra runs faster and doubles back to pick up the pebbles again and then keeps going.
She has smashed every mirror, and now she comes to the end of the hall. The last mirror is not concave or rippled. It does not make her short or skinny or turn her upside-down.
It is a flat, normal mirror. And she looks into it before she can stop herself.
Oh, whatever. She fell into this trap back at Titan's Tower, when she'd found Beast Boy's mirror box. She would smash this mirror faster than she'd thrown that against the wall. And she does. Every pebble she has on her finds itself quickly lodged in that mirror, destroying her reflection. Job well done.
Terra books it out now, leaving the carnival in complete ruins. The noise should have attracted someone, but Terra will be long gone by the time day rolls around and people really see what she's done. She may not be able to carry herself on a rock, but she can run. She'll run all the way north if she has to.
When she reaches the forest, she knows she's safe. The moss on the ground muffles her steps, and even though she breaks twigs once in a while, the forest as a whole takes the sound and traps it in the leafy undergrowth. She doesn't stop until she hears the river, and then she crouches beside it to rest.
That went well.