Anders (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
circlejerked) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2017-07-17 09:34 pm
circlejerked) wrote in entrancelogs2017-07-17 09:34 pm
Entry tags:
OPEN | you think i'm dead but
Who: Anders (circlejerked) and anyone!
Where: Alexandria.
When: Backdated to July 15-16th.
Rating: PG-13 for ourunwelcomed guests, the zombies.
Summary: No Starbucks, but you get a mage with a big stick. A late edition to the zombie event, but I mean, it's zombies. Gotta love zombies.
The Story:
I. Day 2
[Don't look now, but there's a man in a housecoat beating on a zombie at the front gate... sort of?
There is a man and he is in robes, but up close they decidedly fall closer to the armored battle wear variety, and the weapon in his hand is less a bludgeon in the act of mindless beating and more a long, hefty fighting staff in the middle of poking. The zombie straining against the bars seems little more than harmlessly irate, swaying back a step at each push of the staff only to push forward again to repeat the process.
What you see before you is a mage studying the undead. A little poke to see its pain response there, a little prod to see how it reacts there... The experiment continues on with magic from that point: telekinetic blasts, tongues of fire, small currents of electricity that leap from his fingers, testing the bare minimum of forced needed to make the dead permanently dead.
Something can be said for these pitiful creatures: at least they're not carrying fungal spores, or the taint, or invisible to the naked eye.]
... just ugly.
II. Day 3
[Survival is, fortunately enough, something a successful apostate can do in his sleep--mostly since there's not a lot of time or opportunity to sleep when every templar in creation is out for your hide. Joining the Wardens had only continued to teach the joys of fighting hordes of invading monsters. Occupational hazards.
What that means for whomever happened to run into this house with him to shake pursuing off pursuing zombies is that Anders had been quite content to play sentry at the window, a practiced hand at watching out for the nearest thing intending to kill him. Deprived of prey, most of the zombies had lost interest milling around and slowly waddled off back onto the street in search of bigger and better pursuits, but one stubbornly curious zombie continues to claw at the door. It's starting to draw attention, Anders notes with an exasperated grimace.
Well, shooing won't work, so...
Looking to his latest survival partner, he eases a knife from the sheath at his belt and nods at the door. Open it.
Although beaning it with his heavy staff could be fun and cathartic, a more subtle shushing might be best for this loner that won't just take a hint.]
circlejerked) and anyone!Where: Alexandria.
When: Backdated to July 15-16th.
Rating: PG-13 for our
Summary: No Starbucks, but you get a mage with a big stick. A late edition to the zombie event, but I mean, it's zombies. Gotta love zombies.
The Story:
I. Day 2
[Don't look now, but there's a man in a housecoat beating on a zombie at the front gate... sort of?
There is a man and he is in robes, but up close they decidedly fall closer to the armored battle wear variety, and the weapon in his hand is less a bludgeon in the act of mindless beating and more a long, hefty fighting staff in the middle of poking. The zombie straining against the bars seems little more than harmlessly irate, swaying back a step at each push of the staff only to push forward again to repeat the process.
What you see before you is a mage studying the undead. A little poke to see its pain response there, a little prod to see how it reacts there... The experiment continues on with magic from that point: telekinetic blasts, tongues of fire, small currents of electricity that leap from his fingers, testing the bare minimum of forced needed to make the dead permanently dead.
Something can be said for these pitiful creatures: at least they're not carrying fungal spores, or the taint, or invisible to the naked eye.]
... just ugly.
II. Day 3
[Survival is, fortunately enough, something a successful apostate can do in his sleep--mostly since there's not a lot of time or opportunity to sleep when every templar in creation is out for your hide. Joining the Wardens had only continued to teach the joys of fighting hordes of invading monsters. Occupational hazards.
What that means for whomever happened to run into this house with him to shake pursuing off pursuing zombies is that Anders had been quite content to play sentry at the window, a practiced hand at watching out for the nearest thing intending to kill him. Deprived of prey, most of the zombies had lost interest milling around and slowly waddled off back onto the street in search of bigger and better pursuits, but one stubbornly curious zombie continues to claw at the door. It's starting to draw attention, Anders notes with an exasperated grimace.
Well, shooing won't work, so...
Looking to his latest survival partner, he eases a knife from the sheath at his belt and nods at the door. Open it.
Although beaning it with his heavy staff could be fun and cathartic, a more subtle shushing might be best for this loner that won't just take a hint.]
no subject
So she's like your Maker.
[Interesting. Also possibly blasphemous, but hey, they're already standing in a godforsaken world. The Andrastian Maker's probably not listening.]
What does that make you, some kind of metal golem?
no subject
[He winks at Anders when he says that. Is he serious? Of course not, he can't be serious... right?]
A golem! I am no golem, I assure you.
[He shudders. Alphys's little pet golem still gives him the creeps sometimes.]
I have no control rod. I am a being of free will.
[He stops.]
...You wouldn't happen to know Cullen, would you?
no subject
[Honestly, the only part of Mettaton's answer that makes sense to Anders is control rod, and his eyebrows lift in recognition. Now that's a term you don't hear bandied about every day.]
More like Cullen knows me. [There's never a bad time to throw some shade on the one and only Cullen Rutherford, it's a philosophy Anders lives by.] Why, did he ask the same thing? Drat. I'm going to need to get some new material if that's the case.
no subject
[Mettaton laughs at Anders's wording.]
He did in fact! He wasn't as fond of my response to his question however.
[It was an amazing one, in his opinion.]
Are you two from the same world or have you just hit it off rather badly here in Wonderland?