Guns (sevenmm) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-05-17 20:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | ahmeto-lela-okya, coyote, guns, onatah, rave, raven |
WHO: Guns + Native American pantheon (whoever opts to show)
WHERE: Gun's penthouse
WHEN: Saturday evening (backdated)
WARNINGS: TBD / political incorrectness.
One of Guns' most infamous sprees is what happened to the Native American Indians. While he did not make his debut in time to watch them die of European diseases, he arrived to kill their women and children and send them to acres of worthless dust. He has stood next to some very murderous and barbaric mortals, invisible to the human eye, staring down the Indian gods and smiling. It was nothing personal -- it rarely is with Guns -- but he had, for all it was worth, tried to kill them. They had been his first test run: he had shot their physical forms, and waited to see if they died. The Greeks had been a different strategy -- remove them from human minds -- and that hadn't worked perfectly. Guns had come to the conclusion that the perfect storm would be a combination of both, and he was waiting for his chance.
But, there's no hard feelings, and that is why there's a party.
Because Guns has done more slaughtering than he has socializing, he only has stereotypes to go on. His penthouse is located at the very top of a skyscraper -- and a business skyscraper, at that, so he can go straight from his bed to work. (In this way, Guns can hide completely at will.) There are guards in the lobby for every hour of the day, and it takes a special key to get to the top floors, where he lives -- Guns has one, and the guards have the other. It is luxurious, full of chrome and dark woods, but there are very few knick knacks or decorations, and that makes it feel a little empty.
When it reaches the proper floor, the elevator leads to a hallway, which leads to a door in a long wall. The wall has a layer of steel in the middle, and is one of many construction alterations that vaguely defies physics; should Guns die, it would collapse. Through the door there is the immediate living room, and that is where the party will mostly be.
Guns has collected a varied assortment of bongo drums, purchased some fancy rain sticks from various health stores, along with jars of acrylic paint. Various chairs from throughout the house have been moved in, and twenty paintbrushes of varying size are scattered across the carpet. It looks like fun.
And then there's Guns, who is wearing nothing but a war bonnet that goes down to his ass and tanned leather trousers. He almost got ahead of himself and painted his face, but it's supposed to be a group thing. Now the group just needs to show up (in their appropriate costumes!) and get the party started.
(As for food, Guns couldn't even stick to his own theme -- his blossoming love for America has manifested as barbecue as the main course.)