In Awe and Wonder :: [Vignettes]
Jan 15, 2017 11:42:07 GMT -5
Post by L△LIA on Jan 15, 2017 11:42:07 GMT -5
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you told me not to be like anybody else
headspin, happiness, death
headspin, happiness, death
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"Too ugly," Cricket murmurs, peering at a pitfall lizard staring back at her from a massive terrarium. It lacks expression and therefore has no place in a Games intending to be everything it isn't. "Too boring. Too beige." One by one she vetoes an entire row of caged mutts commonly considered to be all-time favorites - hellhounds, latchcrabs, digitamoles. Tried and true. ...tired and tragically overused.
This Gamemaker wants no part in those cliches. Surely somewhere in this laboratory a little bit of magic awaits, deemed too strange to be taken seriously by fools who came before her. "Down this corridor we have," the biologist guiding her through the facility is conspiratorial fire beneath the fluorescent lights, red hair sparking as she turns to Cricket with a knowing smile, "a few of the less traditional muttations. Some you'll recognize, but most are still highly experimental. Bruce won't take the horses seriously and keeps calling me Mother Goose, but he doesn't believe a mutt is a mutt without a dash of scorpion DNA. Bruce is an idiot who doesn't understand subversion. They're more dangerous because they're friendly and adorable. Yes you areeeee~" Enthusiastic blades screech against glass as the creatures inside attempt to nuzzle her in response to the cooing, but Cricket isn't paying attention.
For a moment she forgets she is Gamemaker Antoinette. She forgets she is a grown woman. She forgets she is invincible. Time rewinds as the war medals of her tattoos fade away and the puckered scars she refused to have cosmetically erased part their mouths to sing songs of fresh blood. Only the heart emblazoned upon her chest remains, beating with all of the giddy passion she has never been able to speak. (She searches for Him, to come take her, but I don't think she understands.) The sun rises upon her lips. "More like this. Hundreds more. So many that they become the sky. I'm not very fond of sky... it doesn't do much."
Jackal has only ever loved nature and so she knows that look of adoration. "We can fix that." With a flutter of eyelashes the Gamemaker returns as if blinking away a dream. Only there is no such thing as dreams, there is only the ability to make anything a reality.
This Gamemaker wants no part in those cliches. Surely somewhere in this laboratory a little bit of magic awaits, deemed too strange to be taken seriously by fools who came before her. "Down this corridor we have," the biologist guiding her through the facility is conspiratorial fire beneath the fluorescent lights, red hair sparking as she turns to Cricket with a knowing smile, "a few of the less traditional muttations. Some you'll recognize, but most are still highly experimental. Bruce won't take the horses seriously and keeps calling me Mother Goose, but he doesn't believe a mutt is a mutt without a dash of scorpion DNA. Bruce is an idiot who doesn't understand subversion. They're more dangerous because they're friendly and adorable. Yes you areeeee~" Enthusiastic blades screech against glass as the creatures inside attempt to nuzzle her in response to the cooing, but Cricket isn't paying attention.
For a moment she forgets she is Gamemaker Antoinette. She forgets she is a grown woman. She forgets she is invincible. Time rewinds as the war medals of her tattoos fade away and the puckered scars she refused to have cosmetically erased part their mouths to sing songs of fresh blood. Only the heart emblazoned upon her chest remains, beating with all of the giddy passion she has never been able to speak. (She searches for Him, to come take her, but I don't think she understands.) The sun rises upon her lips. "More like this. Hundreds more. So many that they become the sky. I'm not very fond of sky... it doesn't do much."
Jackal has only ever loved nature and so she knows that look of adoration. "We can fix that." With a flutter of eyelashes the Gamemaker returns as if blinking away a dream. Only there is no such thing as dreams, there is only the ability to make anything a reality.
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