Physics is just a seven-letter word...

[lowkeyangel]

Who: Loki Gabriel, and you.
Where: Anywhere.
When: 31st - 2nd
Rating: A little language. Rated S for Silly?
Summary: Gabriel decides to test out the logistics of cartoon physics, with... mixed results. We can plot here, or feel free to just jump in. He's only likely to 'kill' douchebags.
The Story:

Being a trickster for so long had meant that, on the whole, there wasn't a whole lot that Gabriel experimented with, anymore. When the next big things came out, he pranked with them and then moved on (unless, of course, they were excessively hilarious). This was just the way of the big human creative machine. But, of course, when you can make physics your bitch, experiments get a whole lot more interesting than test tubes and lab coats. Gabriel was itchy to do something. He had a feeling that it was set on by the damn house, but it didn't matter. He was bored anyway.

And so, armed with a list of silly cartoon things he wanted to try out in real life, he set off to stalk various parts of the mansion and the grounds, and see what he could see.

Comments

[alwaysnext]

When Luke finally escapes from Team Mad Science, his inclinations are less towards poking around gooey bodily fluids, and more about building something explosive and throwing it as hard as he can at something ostensibly indestructible. That might not be such an unusual sight at this stage of the weekend, but Luke is into scribbling down his reams of theoretical prep work almost as much as he is the potential for exciting eruptions.

Just because you suddenly have no qualms about the ceiling caving in didn't mean you should skimp on the descriptive statistics, after all.

[lowkeyangel]

Gabriel can certainly understand someone with a taste for a little destruction. In fact, there seems to be a perfectly good, unlit, stick of dynamite in the middle of the corridor. Good as-is, or torn down for chemical parts, with a bright red tube. ACME is even written on the side of it, like any good cartoon stick of dynamite worth its salt.

[alwaysnext]

Well, isn't that weird. Luke figures someone must have left it behind in their own experiments. Someone who was more interested in Looney Tunes than exothermic reactions. But in science, as in the playground, the laws of finders-keepers is absolute and he picks it up. He'll be having that nitroglycerin, thank you very much.

[lowkeyangel]

Stuck underneath the large tube is a sign that comes unfurled as the dynamite is plucked from the ground. White, with large black lettering, it sits there, begging to be read. It shouldn't have been possible for it to be covered by a much smaller object, but there you go. Things aren't going to start making sense now. In fact, it's only going to get worse.

LOOK UP

Should Luke look up, he'll notice that there's a baby grand piano hanging in mid-air above him. No supports whatsoever, in clear violation of most natural laws. Natural laws are terrible, awful things, anyway, in Gabriel's opinion. Much like a cartoon, the piano will only be jostled by someone making a note of it being there, and it'll come down with an incredibly musical bang. And unlike real life, all it will do is daze as it shatters around its victim.

[alwaysnext]

He sits there, surrounded by splintered wood and scattered papers. Dazed and confused, but not on the accompanying drugs that might explain what just happened.

The worst thing about being hit in the head by a 500lb object falling at a rate of 9.8m/s is that it didn't snap his neck or leave him a bloody mess. There's a throbbing behind his eyes, but that's more to do with seeing so many impossible things in the space of twenty seconds. A decent person would space them out a bit.

As if that indignity wasn't enough, he's not going to stare at what looks suspiciously like birds winging a conga line around his head. One hand presses against his forehead, and the other clutches that dynamite like a lifeline while he whinges, "This isn't even a proper experiment."

[lowkeyangel]

They're perfect little blue birds, too, colored in the ways that cartoon birds are and real birds aren't, with golden feet and beaks and dark blue eyes. They tweet and chirp and then, when the dizziness goes away, fade into thin air, just like that.

Gabriel chuckles somewhere nearby. Proper? Who needed proper experiments...