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Vas Captio Mods ([info]vas_captio_mod) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-08 15:57:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!complete, day 10, ellen ripley, ianto jones, jack harkness, jenny schecter, location: museum, open, remy lebeau, sam winchester, sarah jane smith, shannon rutherford

Day 10: Museum - 1:15pm
Who: OTA
What: Seven point five
When: 1:15pm - 5:00pm
Where: the Museum
Rating: TBA
Status: Active



The sun was shining high in the sky and a gentle breeze stroked the leaves of the trees, making them, along with the severed stub of rope on the clock face from the day previous sway lazily. It was quiet. Perhaps it was too quiet, for the lack of birds chirping or insects buzzing.

All in all, the day was one of the most pleasant as of yet for the bulk of the involuntary residents of Vas Captio, save, of course, the heat. Maybe it was a bit too hot to be entirely comfortable.

It started small, as most things do. A few of the sculptures rattled against the glass displays encasing them and the loose windows in some of the rooms jittered anxiously in their frames. The floor seemed to wiggle gently but then, all was quiet and immobile again.

As if to protest the stillness of the museum, a great angry shudder rumbled through the foundation. Some of the wooden floorboards seemed to shoot upward as they snapped in half or into pieces, jutting up from the floor. The whole building dropped down as its weak foundation crumbled beneath it, creating the sensation of a very short elevator drop. Glass shattered loudly, throwing about shards sharp as knives and raining them down into the floors or walls as if tossed by a knife-thrower. The doors of the multiple rooms flew open, some ripping off their hinges entirely and others being slammed angrily shut again when large display cases made of wood and metal were thrown against them.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the place as displays were destroyed completely sending still more shards of what remained everywhere, creating somewhat of a death trap, especially in the main lobby where the bulk of the displays remained. That sound was skewed until it was nearly drowned out completely as the roar of metal supports trying to hold and failing came to fruition and the entire building's worth of ceiling space collapsed in. Some of the doorways managed to hold up - those in which the doors were jammed in place by felled display cases - while others caved in under the weight of the falling debris and the loss of structure when the museum dropped from its foundation to the ground a few feet below. Almost as quickly as everything began, the movement dropped away.

Vas Captio was still, again, and silent once more.



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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ballerinadreams
2009-06-10 12:37 pm UTC (link)
Shannon watched Gambit, her eyes following him as he moved toward her and then sat down beside her. She gave him a ghost of a smile at his reply. "You can be smooth. No one said you can't. It'll work great on the girls that don't hear that stuff every day," she said with an intentionally nonchalant tone. "I mean, really, the only ones that won't think it's as smooth as you do would be the exceptionally amazing ones. You know, like me," she joked although she was careful to keep the tone serious, betraying the amusement dancing in her eyes as she said it.

A somewhat doubtful eyebrow arched briefly when he said that he'd never had a problem with his eyes being red, but she didn't ask. Maybe he was from the future. Or, like, an alternate version of Earth, where everyone had weird eyes. Who was she to judge?

Gambit said the eyes made him different, special - Shannon furrowed her brow just slightly and only for a split second. The next word she had expected to hear was "distingué." But he said better, which Shannon thought was an interesting choice of word. He mentioned acrobatics and that certainly made him different, but she wasn't sure how being a gymnast would make him better. She paused for a moment, considering her own words. "Cela signifie que vous êtes unique, mon ami, mais que signifie-t-il comment que vous êtes meilleur? Je ne suis pas sûr que je comprends," she said gently, offering him a pair of innocently curious eyes to accompany the furrowed brow.

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1530 - Shannon & Remy
[info]ace_of_clubs
2009-06-10 12:47 pm UTC (link)
"'De really amazin' ones. Like you, Chere." He agreed with that same easy-going Cajun smile. That stereotype about all Cajuns being laid back certainly seemed to be true. Louisiana, much like Jamaica, had a reputation for being a place to relax, where everyone just laid around and did nothing, until it was time to party. Well, Gambit certainly gave off that vibe. Though, at her skeptical look, he shook his head some.

"It was never a problem wit' 'de people who matter." There, perhaps that would explain it better? Sure, people on the streets.. but to his 'family', of sorts? It hadn't ever been a big deal. Not really.

When she questioned him about what made him better, the red-head took in a slow breath through his nose and a gloved hand lowered to pick up a stone from the ground and he lifted it up, holding it between his naked pointer finger, and his gloved thumb. "Je suis Le Diable Blanc. Il est qu'ils m'appellent." As he spoke, the stone trapped between his two fingers began to slowly turn pink and glow.. then the pink faded into red and the glow got brighter, almost like a small flashlight giving off a glow in every direction. "Il est ce qui me fait mieux. Mais ils l'ont mal. C'est un cadeau, pas un juron." He flicked the rock away then and as it impacted with the ground, about ten feet off, it exploded. Like a firecracker going off, throwing bits of dirt and debris in every direction, but none of it hard enough or far enough to reach them. "Je suis différent. Spécial. Mieux. Not better 'den o'ter people, 'dough. Jus' better 'dan I woulda' been."

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