(no subject)

[opening_act]

Who: Anyone
When: Day 1, Afternoon
Where: The Arena
What: With any luck, answers.

[ You've met each other, and at least some of the confused amnesiacs have ventured out into the closest thing the sealed city has to open air, outside the dormitory building they woke in. The arena loomed large, the biggest landmark the city had to offer, and at some elected to explore the large building.

For those that didn't, the grand flash of light that fills the streets, coming from the direction of the Arena may call attention to it.

For those already there, the blinding light that suddenly blazed into existence is impossible to miss, pure and bright. If they closed their eyes reflexively, they may not notice, but the observant might notice that the flash left no afterimage on their closed eyelids. For those with their eyes left open, they will find the light doesn't hurt, or diminish their vision when they look away, though they still have difficulty seeing into that burning core.

Not long after, the light starts to dim. At the core of it, a mass of brilliant wings, too numerous to count keeps itself aloft in a constant whirr of motion and feathers. Or— maybe that's wrong, in certain moments there are no pure white feathers but stripped musculature, raw and writhing, with far too many eyes hidden amongst the folds.

Will you approach? ]

Comments

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

What do you mean, "after all"?

[icantblieveitsnotdeadpool]

Due to our various abilities, she is convinced we are a circus troupe... also, my face.

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

Guess she takes the prize, then.

[dishonestliving]

I didn't say convinced, but it's a good working theory.

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

Sounds like you hit closer to the mark than anyone else.

[dishonestliving]

Like I said, I didn't say I was brilliant, but...

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

But we oughtta start looking for a trophy.

[The banter's there, but he's distracted and tense. Something about the angel's rubbing him the wrong way. :|]

[dishonestliving]

If it's shiny.

[she nudges against him, attempting to distract him to be tense in a less broody direction]

...What? Not impressed with the show thus far?

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

It could use a little more song and dance and a little less creepy thing calling the shots.

[dishonestliving]

What's so creepy about her? Is it the weird melodramatic way of speaking? Or the winged multi-eyed flesh horror bit at the beginning?

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

You left out the part with us jumping through hoops.

[dishonestliving]

Not a hoop fan? Dresses of the nineteenth century would be so disappointed.

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

Not a fan of hoops to get back something that's already mine.

[dishonestliving]

Something that's yours?

[a beat]

...Are you talking about the memories? --Is that even possible?

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

Not a clue, but that's what she's saying.

[dishonestliving]

That...doesn't make sense.

...I mean, I'm pretty sure that's not how memory works, how'd she even get them?

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

Who the hell knows?

[He's asking that right now, actually.]

[dishonestliving]

That's kinda...not cool, you know? I consider myself a pretty open individual but I might not be alright with that.

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

[THANK YOU. THANK YOU FOR THAT REACTION.]

Finally. Christ! I thought I was going crazy over here.

[dishonestliving]

Other than having apparently had your entire memory bogarted by a weird apparently angel with a thing for showbiz metaphors?

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

Well, the jury's still out on that part.

[dishonestliving]

True. Well...what're our options, then?

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

Believe her or not, looks like.

She doesn't even have the whole story.

[dishonestliving]

So it's a mystery show...fun.

May as well make the most of it, I suppose.

[blankasfreshlyfallen]

I guess.