Dillon Cole || Scorpion Shard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
orderfromchaos) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-07-31 09:32 pm
orderfromchaos) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-07-31 09:32 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN!] Beneath the halo of a streetlamp -
Who: Dillon and YOU. Anyone who might be roaming at night, or he could help out someone who got stuck after hours.
When: At night, after sirens, any time in the last week.
Where: Wandering all over the island.
Summary: Dillon exploring.
Warnings: Here be monsters? Dillon repels the Seeping Darkness, though. His permissions post is here.
At first, it had just been early mornings on the roof of Towers, breathing in the cool pre-dawn air, tasting the breeze off the North Pacific as he watched the crumbled concrete resume its smooth, undamaged shape a few minutes earlier than it should . It was such a relief, to just let the crackling, fissioning, endless power of the scorpion star spill out of him, to let it fling itself against the darkness, batter it back a few grudging feet, and draw down the constant riptide inside him.
But soon enough he was spending whole nights on the streets, meandering through the transformed city, deliberately avoiding walking in a grid, just to be contrary, observing the monsters and the people tough enough to hunt them. It's completely different from the port in the day, but it's still an inextricable part of the pattern.
When: At night, after sirens, any time in the last week.
Where: Wandering all over the island.
Summary: Dillon exploring.
Warnings: Here be monsters? Dillon repels the Seeping Darkness, though. His permissions post is here.
At first, it had just been early mornings on the roof of Towers, breathing in the cool pre-dawn air, tasting the breeze off the North Pacific as he watched the crumbled concrete resume its smooth, undamaged shape a few minutes earlier than it should . It was such a relief, to just let the crackling, fissioning, endless power of the scorpion star spill out of him, to let it fling itself against the darkness, batter it back a few grudging feet, and draw down the constant riptide inside him.
But soon enough he was spending whole nights on the streets, meandering through the transformed city, deliberately avoiding walking in a grid, just to be contrary, observing the monsters and the people tough enough to hunt them. It's completely different from the port in the day, but it's still an inextricable part of the pattern.