Chuck Shurley | God (
paterelohim) wrote in
sirenspull_logs2012-10-05 11:41 pm
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Entry tags:
OPEN
Who: Chuck Shurley and YOU.
When: Friday-Sunday of the event
Where: all over the place! (and Purgatory)
Summary: Rule 63 is fun.
Warnings: TBD.
[Chuck is having a weird week- as is the rest of the city. After spending the first half of the week going through various and sundry traumatizing experiences, he- she decides to get out into the world and spend the weekend basically being irresponsible. Except at night, when she's in Purgatory, doing her new managerial duties and busily drinking on the job.
Friday is for lurking around various bars and restaurants, engaging in some healthy day drinking and wasting money on arcade games. She's pretty convinced that she's awesome at air hockey when she's drunk. Which is a lie.
On Saturday, she spends a lot of the day roaming around the Underground Mall vicinity aimlessly and eating weird bacon-based foods. She might also be sitting in a city square on the edge of a huge fountain, tongue sticking out in concentration as she busily paints what appears to be a... giant invisible dog.
Sunday has her in a park somewhere, playing an expensive-looking acoustic guitar- mostly Simon & Garfunkle, the Beatles, whatever she can remember without too many mistakes. Which isn't always successful. She's singing softly, too, trying to get used to her new, very unfamiliar voice.]
(ooc: A couple closed threads are posted below, but everything else is totally open!)
When: Friday-Sunday of the event
Where: all over the place! (and Purgatory)
Summary: Rule 63 is fun.
Warnings: TBD.
[Chuck is having a weird week- as is the rest of the city. After spending the first half of the week going through various and sundry traumatizing experiences, he- she decides to get out into the world and spend the weekend basically being irresponsible. Except at night, when she's in Purgatory, doing her new managerial duties and busily drinking on the job.
Friday is for lurking around various bars and restaurants, engaging in some healthy day drinking and wasting money on arcade games. She's pretty convinced that she's awesome at air hockey when she's drunk. Which is a lie.
On Saturday, she spends a lot of the day roaming around the Underground Mall vicinity aimlessly and eating weird bacon-based foods. She might also be sitting in a city square on the edge of a huge fountain, tongue sticking out in concentration as she busily paints what appears to be a... giant invisible dog.
Sunday has her in a park somewhere, playing an expensive-looking acoustic guitar- mostly Simon & Garfunkle, the Beatles, whatever she can remember without too many mistakes. Which isn't always successful. She's singing softly, too, trying to get used to her new, very unfamiliar voice.]
(ooc: A couple closed threads are posted below, but everything else is totally open!)
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[But he doesn't slam against it, too cautious, a lesson well learned from Lucifer's attempt to cast a message out - he studies the Pull instead.]
I thin I could, some day. Just slip through it. I don't know how long that will take, though. I'd have to be able to touch the Pull first.
[The nail flies straight into a star, the real heat of hot metal vanishing into the center of the little yellow star.]
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She frowns.]
That's suicidal. You don't know what would happen or where you'd go.
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There's an entire universe out there. I'd manage. Hole myself up in some hidden place away from here, find out how to get home.
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[He didn't want to dam the planet just to get out. Sometimes he wanted out that badly, yes. But there were lines he wouldn't cross.]
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Why do you even think about this stuff? It'll just torture you. We both know you can't get out. You're making yourself nuts instead of, I don't know... living?
[It's a rare moment of candor about this, because normally Chuck wouldn't ever be dumb enough to try to discourage Magneto from doing a thing, and especially not this- not when She needs there to be a way out some day, if She's going to fix Her world. But now, short-sighted concern for Erik's complex mental health takes over.]
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If I'm just going to be trapped for the rest of my life, there's no point in it.
[It wasn't anything as simple as 'freedom or death', it was something else, it was needing a cause, a reason to live. Something the Core couldn't just snatch away, like people he loved.]
Leaving someone trapped, wrapped in cellophane so they are always reminded of how trapped they are, how helpless they are to something they can't understand, can't influence, it's torture.
But if I can get out, then, then it's all right. I can endure whatever I need to do to so.
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Can't you just let go and... enjoy the time you actually have here?
[Of course not. Neither of them could.]
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[It's not serious - but it's the only way he can think to explain what it's like.]
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And. It's something that can't be taken away from me. Anything else, anyone else, can be.
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Chuck moves closer, sitting next to him until their shoulders bump. When he's finished with his good sized drink or three, she takes the flask back and has a sip that she really really doesn't need.]
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Any other questions?
[It's warm and easily asked.]
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[Warmly as well. She shifts and rolls her shoulders uncomfortably.]
Do you think I could get you arrested for being able to see through my clothes now? I mean, X-Ray vision is always creepy, but now I have the ACLU on my side.
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[It's so off hand and sincerely causal that it's clear he's not snooping.]
Does the ACLU even have holding here? Would they really take exception to my seeing your bones? It's not like they show in the movies you know.
[He shifts a little to lightly tap her jaw as he talks.]
You have a filling here, here, here. I can see the fractures that healed. It's not like clothing doesn't exist.
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[She sits up completely, which pulls her away from him, because yeah- laying down is kind of hurting, and she's getting worse at hiding it.]
So what if you have a sick bone fetish?
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[Just saying.]
I suppose it wouldn't be any different than someone who has an ear fetish.
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Something like that. Here,
[He held his arm out.]
Put you hand on my forearm, at the muscle.
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[She reaches out slowly, feeling distinctly weird as her hand rests on his arm. She half expects to be offered tickets to a gun show- but it's him, so no.]
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Reliefs pain and stiffness, like a massage.
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Oh my god, that feels awesome. That's like sex.
[It doesn't take care of all her pain - or even close to half - but it's nice.]
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Glad I could help. Anywhere else?
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[She's braces her hand against the hood for support.]
I don't have anything else that needs any... mind healing. It's fine.
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[He's mostly teasing, though he does shift a little to plop his head in her lap.]
Let me have your hand.
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