RavensMuse Member
Girl with the Infinity Gauntlet.
STATUS: Gotta sketch, gotta write, what a stupid night to have a bout of depression... 6 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 5 yrs ago
- Joined: 6 yrs ago
- Posts: 97 (0.05 / day)
- VMs: 0
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- RavensMuse 6 yrs ago
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6 yrs ago
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Gotta sketch, gotta write, what a stupid night to have a bout of depression...
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@RavensMuse does she have anyone there to scoop her into safety? Sonya could be a candidate if not
Me and Dragon have a little something cooked up, but if you would like to set up a collab. Sonya can come stop her from dying right away :)
@RavensMuse
is she dead, then??
you want to make a new character or just leaving the RP?
Badly injured, unconscious, and bleeding out. Not dead!
Grace looked about frantically as the rider kept a strong pace to get back to HQ when she saw what the squeal over the radio was about...
My god....
She cursed as she saw the horde, it was more then she'd ever seen before. It wasn't numbers anymore, it was a sheet of pure destruction. A tide of flesh, teeth, and death. The audible click click click, of the undead teeth gnashing chilled Grace to the very core. She tapped the rider on the shoulder. He glared behind her as she tried to tell him to slow down.
"Are you crazy?"
Grace looked again at the horde. "We need to slow that down, they'll steamroll everything!" She had no idea how she'd begin to go about slowing down something that size.
She had to try...
The man shook his head, "We need to get to HQ, now!" Grace sighed as she drew her pistol.
"Take Anne and go!" The man looked like he was about to argue once again, but he saw the pistol and decided better. Grace was on the ground without another word, running towards the horde. Her heart screaming in her ears as adrenaline forced her up on the first wall. The closer she got, the more she realized that this was a truly stupid idea. Shaking her head, Grace pushed those thoughts back. Her job was to protect the innocent, this horde would kill anything that got in it's way. She couldn't stop the horde, she didn't have enough bullets, bombs, or a plan to divert the wave of death.
Wait, she didn't have to stop the horde, just break it up. Right?
Grace shook her head, forcing her rising fear back down once again. She forced her rational brain to put together the plan, she had to force the zombies to become disoriented, she knew noise and light had some effect on them. The sickening click click click grew louder, the ground itself began to shake. Grace looked about for a decent place to set this plan into motion. The closest building had a fire escape, Grace was climbing up the rusted metal ladder as quickly as possible, her pulse screaming to run, to hide, this is not something she could win.
As Grace got to the final elevated section of fire escape, a fat sluggish zombie lurched towards her; one arm cut off at the elbow. Grace drew her collapsing baton in a single fluid motion. The steel weapon cracked against the mans skull, the resulting bone crushing with the sound of dried wood under her attack. He crumpled against the railing, before taking the section of rusted guard rail off as he plummeted to the concrete below.
Grace looked at the masses below, her plan feeling much less intelligent by the minute. She grimaced as she dropped her backpack and pulled several large brightly colored tubes from her pack. Wedging them the best she could into the closest windowed flowerpot, with enough of an angle to hopefully sail over the horde Grace said a prayer to any deity left that would listen. Drawing out her fiance's lighter, Grace grinned to herself, "let's save them one last time..." She lit the first firework, and felt something inside her give way.
The firework fizzled for a moment before the spark went dead. Grace looked at the tube, hope extinguished. She was about to try a relight when the fireworks began to scream to life, sending bright multicolored explosions above her alongside the crackling screech of the more noisy sparks. Grace looked at the teeming hordes below, hopeful she was right.
The sickening masses below her slowed down, looking up at the display. The horde of chalky eyes looked up at Grace, who glared down at the legion of undead as she prepared the second part of her last hurrah. Four long metal tubes, filled with black powder and marble sized ball bearings and strips of cloth to elevate her throws farther were all she had to stop a giant mass of undead.
Picking up the first explosive, Grace felt the weight of the bomb almost make her wonder if she could propel it far enough. The explosives were designed to either punch through skulls, or break legs and mangle feet. If she could get these into the masses, it'll thin them out, and maybe give others a fighting chance. Closing her eyes as Grace picked up the first bomb, she lit the fuse with no more ceremony. She swung the pipe by it's cloth harness for the count of five before releasing it into the air.
The pipe bomb swung lazily to the middle of the street as the hissing fuse reached the end of the line. There was a massive explosion, followed by dozens of little pops of dust as the explosive fired the bearings through buildings, windows, and zombies. There was a sickening sound as the bearings struck the legion, as a rather large cluster of zombies fell over. Grace didn't wait to see the results of her first bomb as she readied the second.
Bang!
This explosion was timed a little longer, the bomb fell into the horde before detonating. Radiating waves of undead toppled over, legs and feet nothing more than a mangled mess of meat and pulp. Grace noted less fell this time, the bearings much more effective if it detonates above the skulls. The third bomb did so, this time farther away. Another sickening wave of meat and teeth fell to the ground. Grace silently cheered as she weighed the last bomb in her hand. The horde was still stunned by the last few flickering sparks, but the outliers were already starting to move.
Grace noted that where there were piles of debris and newly re-deaded zombies. Their still moving counterparts were having difficulties moving through the mess of meat and broken limbs. Some zombies began to move in opposite directions to bypass the mess of broken bodies. Some zombies toppled to the ground, unable to keep a proper sense of balance thanks to the slick visera that coated the ground.
"Last one, let's make this count." Grace muttered as she held the bomb for a moment. Part of her realized, that she could just hang onto it. She did enough, she's thinned the horde. Even if she was the hero, she'd still be alone. She survived, he didn't, they didn't, and it...it wasn't fair.
NO! She had to keep fighting!
Grace yelled as she threw the last pipe bomb above the chattering horde. She had to keep going! She promised! The explosion jarred her back to the battle, as the bearings tore through the center of the undead.
Grace never felt the bearing strike her, yet the warm sensation as the blood ran down her leg made her realize something wrong happened. She looked down to see a sick rapidly expanding red splotch on her shirt. The pockmarks in the stone around her letting her know the bearings had peppered the building, and her as well. She looked stunned down at the rapidly expanding bloodstain.
"Fuck..." She muttered before collapsing on the platform. Grace stared up at the sky as she tried to will her legs back to life, they were numb. The shock setting in, her bodies way of at least protecting her from pain. That was nice, she at least could stare at the sun while she waited for the end. Grace looked at her hand, it was thick with her blood. She wasn't sure why, maybe to let someone know what had happened here, or maybe make sure someone knew where she fell. The hope her supplies were at least going to aid someone else was a pleasant feeling as Grace pulled herself up. Her legs didn't want to work right, like they were made of rubber. She slapped her hand against the pale white stone of the apartment building. A wet sound as her blood streaked the wall, she wanted to make damn sure someone knew the Saint went out fighting. She made one blood stained wing, before she fell to her knee. She groaned as she placed a hand in the blood soaked duster, she began to paint the other wing as her arm went numb. She looked at the offending limb, before falling to the grating once again.
She smiled peacefully as the warmth granted by the shock radiated to the rest of her body. Grace stared at the blood-stained wings emblazoned on the wall as darkness swept over her. Grace's final thoughts as she welcomed it, were of peace.
She'd hopefully thinned the horde out, or at least forced the zombies to be broken up into more manageable packs for the others. She smiled grimly as she saw a man waiting for her, the same stupid smile he had when the first met. He gestured to her to come along, she finally found him.
Her fight was over, finally....
My god....
She cursed as she saw the horde, it was more then she'd ever seen before. It wasn't numbers anymore, it was a sheet of pure destruction. A tide of flesh, teeth, and death. The audible click click click, of the undead teeth gnashing chilled Grace to the very core. She tapped the rider on the shoulder. He glared behind her as she tried to tell him to slow down.
"Are you crazy?"
Grace looked again at the horde. "We need to slow that down, they'll steamroll everything!" She had no idea how she'd begin to go about slowing down something that size.
She had to try...
The man shook his head, "We need to get to HQ, now!" Grace sighed as she drew her pistol.
"Take Anne and go!" The man looked like he was about to argue once again, but he saw the pistol and decided better. Grace was on the ground without another word, running towards the horde. Her heart screaming in her ears as adrenaline forced her up on the first wall. The closer she got, the more she realized that this was a truly stupid idea. Shaking her head, Grace pushed those thoughts back. Her job was to protect the innocent, this horde would kill anything that got in it's way. She couldn't stop the horde, she didn't have enough bullets, bombs, or a plan to divert the wave of death.
Wait, she didn't have to stop the horde, just break it up. Right?
Grace shook her head, forcing her rising fear back down once again. She forced her rational brain to put together the plan, she had to force the zombies to become disoriented, she knew noise and light had some effect on them. The sickening click click click grew louder, the ground itself began to shake. Grace looked about for a decent place to set this plan into motion. The closest building had a fire escape, Grace was climbing up the rusted metal ladder as quickly as possible, her pulse screaming to run, to hide, this is not something she could win.
As Grace got to the final elevated section of fire escape, a fat sluggish zombie lurched towards her; one arm cut off at the elbow. Grace drew her collapsing baton in a single fluid motion. The steel weapon cracked against the mans skull, the resulting bone crushing with the sound of dried wood under her attack. He crumpled against the railing, before taking the section of rusted guard rail off as he plummeted to the concrete below.
Grace looked at the masses below, her plan feeling much less intelligent by the minute. She grimaced as she dropped her backpack and pulled several large brightly colored tubes from her pack. Wedging them the best she could into the closest windowed flowerpot, with enough of an angle to hopefully sail over the horde Grace said a prayer to any deity left that would listen. Drawing out her fiance's lighter, Grace grinned to herself, "let's save them one last time..." She lit the first firework, and felt something inside her give way.
The firework fizzled for a moment before the spark went dead. Grace looked at the tube, hope extinguished. She was about to try a relight when the fireworks began to scream to life, sending bright multicolored explosions above her alongside the crackling screech of the more noisy sparks. Grace looked at the teeming hordes below, hopeful she was right.
The sickening masses below her slowed down, looking up at the display. The horde of chalky eyes looked up at Grace, who glared down at the legion of undead as she prepared the second part of her last hurrah. Four long metal tubes, filled with black powder and marble sized ball bearings and strips of cloth to elevate her throws farther were all she had to stop a giant mass of undead.
Picking up the first explosive, Grace felt the weight of the bomb almost make her wonder if she could propel it far enough. The explosives were designed to either punch through skulls, or break legs and mangle feet. If she could get these into the masses, it'll thin them out, and maybe give others a fighting chance. Closing her eyes as Grace picked up the first bomb, she lit the fuse with no more ceremony. She swung the pipe by it's cloth harness for the count of five before releasing it into the air.
The pipe bomb swung lazily to the middle of the street as the hissing fuse reached the end of the line. There was a massive explosion, followed by dozens of little pops of dust as the explosive fired the bearings through buildings, windows, and zombies. There was a sickening sound as the bearings struck the legion, as a rather large cluster of zombies fell over. Grace didn't wait to see the results of her first bomb as she readied the second.
Bang!
This explosion was timed a little longer, the bomb fell into the horde before detonating. Radiating waves of undead toppled over, legs and feet nothing more than a mangled mess of meat and pulp. Grace noted less fell this time, the bearings much more effective if it detonates above the skulls. The third bomb did so, this time farther away. Another sickening wave of meat and teeth fell to the ground. Grace silently cheered as she weighed the last bomb in her hand. The horde was still stunned by the last few flickering sparks, but the outliers were already starting to move.
Grace noted that where there were piles of debris and newly re-deaded zombies. Their still moving counterparts were having difficulties moving through the mess of meat and broken limbs. Some zombies began to move in opposite directions to bypass the mess of broken bodies. Some zombies toppled to the ground, unable to keep a proper sense of balance thanks to the slick visera that coated the ground.
"Last one, let's make this count." Grace muttered as she held the bomb for a moment. Part of her realized, that she could just hang onto it. She did enough, she's thinned the horde. Even if she was the hero, she'd still be alone. She survived, he didn't, they didn't, and it...it wasn't fair.
NO! She had to keep fighting!
Grace yelled as she threw the last pipe bomb above the chattering horde. She had to keep going! She promised! The explosion jarred her back to the battle, as the bearings tore through the center of the undead.
Grace never felt the bearing strike her, yet the warm sensation as the blood ran down her leg made her realize something wrong happened. She looked down to see a sick rapidly expanding red splotch on her shirt. The pockmarks in the stone around her letting her know the bearings had peppered the building, and her as well. She looked stunned down at the rapidly expanding bloodstain.
"Fuck..." She muttered before collapsing on the platform. Grace stared up at the sky as she tried to will her legs back to life, they were numb. The shock setting in, her bodies way of at least protecting her from pain. That was nice, she at least could stare at the sun while she waited for the end. Grace looked at her hand, it was thick with her blood. She wasn't sure why, maybe to let someone know what had happened here, or maybe make sure someone knew where she fell. The hope her supplies were at least going to aid someone else was a pleasant feeling as Grace pulled herself up. Her legs didn't want to work right, like they were made of rubber. She slapped her hand against the pale white stone of the apartment building. A wet sound as her blood streaked the wall, she wanted to make damn sure someone knew the Saint went out fighting. She made one blood stained wing, before she fell to her knee. She groaned as she placed a hand in the blood soaked duster, she began to paint the other wing as her arm went numb. She looked at the offending limb, before falling to the grating once again.
She smiled peacefully as the warmth granted by the shock radiated to the rest of her body. Grace stared at the blood-stained wings emblazoned on the wall as darkness swept over her. Grace's final thoughts as she welcomed it, were of peace.
She'd hopefully thinned the horde out, or at least forced the zombies to be broken up into more manageable packs for the others. She smiled grimly as she saw a man waiting for her, the same stupid smile he had when the first met. He gestured to her to come along, she finally found him.
Her fight was over, finally....
No worries.
@Burning Kitty I could try to come up with suggestions if that helps!
and Irene posted! sorry for the delay
Irene remained quiet, supporting Kurt as two other friends of his came to his aid.
Sol, loud, but helpful. Had offered to run off to get a drink for Kurt. He was an interesting sketch subject, she never admitted to him, but there were several pages of her current sketchbook from his time at the skate park. He had performed some amazing stunts, and Irene's eye had captured them perfectly.
"Thank you Sol," she stammered as the skater ran to the cafeteria. The other student had Kurt on the other arm, he was keeping the situation light-hearted. Something Irene was not good at, she felt a small smile creep across her face as she watched Kurt groan at his attempt at humor. She opened her mouth to try a pop-culture quip, but realized, she really didn't have much she could work with. She closed her mouth shortly after as they helped Kurt make his way to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
Then she stopped them...
Hannah was one of the few people that could lure Irene's temper out of whatever icy depths it preferred to reside. As she began prattling off her dramatic sympathy for Kurt, Irene kept her gaze focused on the ground. She didn't want to start anything with the popular girl, it would probably lead to her sharing the same fate as Kurt right now. She desperately wanted to raise her eyes to meet Hannah's, but she wasn't the brave one...she just painted pretty brave heroines...
"Maybe if she stopped keeping her nose in the air, she'd care a little more...Sorry...that may have been more to take a stab at me..." Irene apologized to the other two, she'd shared an art class with Hannah that Irene had unintentionally irritated the girl by outshining her in a painting course. She'd painted some gaudy flowers, while Irene had worked on a classical recreation of Athena. The girl felt this was a slight against her, and Irene chose to keep her eyes down, and admit defeat to Hannah. Yet something about the Muse she'd painted recently, the defiant green eyes, maybe...
However, Hannah was gone, and Kurt needed attention more than some stupid matter of pride. Irene had noticed the bathroom had a rather large yellow sign advising students to wait a few minutes before they could go in. Irene looked to the others for a moment, silently realizing she again, proved she was not good in a crisis.
"Umm, here," Irene muttered softly as she'd opened her canvas bag. Drawing out a small bowl of applesauce and some sugary fruit drink she'd been a fan of lately. "Sorry, I forgot I had these." She gave both parts of her lunch to Kurt. "I had a big breakfast, so I'm not hungry." She smiled meekly, hoping that the boy didn't realize she rarely had more then that during lunch because she was usually in the studio working.
Sol, loud, but helpful. Had offered to run off to get a drink for Kurt. He was an interesting sketch subject, she never admitted to him, but there were several pages of her current sketchbook from his time at the skate park. He had performed some amazing stunts, and Irene's eye had captured them perfectly.
"Thank you Sol," she stammered as the skater ran to the cafeteria. The other student had Kurt on the other arm, he was keeping the situation light-hearted. Something Irene was not good at, she felt a small smile creep across her face as she watched Kurt groan at his attempt at humor. She opened her mouth to try a pop-culture quip, but realized, she really didn't have much she could work with. She closed her mouth shortly after as they helped Kurt make his way to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
Then she stopped them...
Hannah was one of the few people that could lure Irene's temper out of whatever icy depths it preferred to reside. As she began prattling off her dramatic sympathy for Kurt, Irene kept her gaze focused on the ground. She didn't want to start anything with the popular girl, it would probably lead to her sharing the same fate as Kurt right now. She desperately wanted to raise her eyes to meet Hannah's, but she wasn't the brave one...she just painted pretty brave heroines...
"Maybe if she stopped keeping her nose in the air, she'd care a little more...Sorry...that may have been more to take a stab at me..." Irene apologized to the other two, she'd shared an art class with Hannah that Irene had unintentionally irritated the girl by outshining her in a painting course. She'd painted some gaudy flowers, while Irene had worked on a classical recreation of Athena. The girl felt this was a slight against her, and Irene chose to keep her eyes down, and admit defeat to Hannah. Yet something about the Muse she'd painted recently, the defiant green eyes, maybe...
However, Hannah was gone, and Kurt needed attention more than some stupid matter of pride. Irene had noticed the bathroom had a rather large yellow sign advising students to wait a few minutes before they could go in. Irene looked to the others for a moment, silently realizing she again, proved she was not good in a crisis.
"Umm, here," Irene muttered softly as she'd opened her canvas bag. Drawing out a small bowl of applesauce and some sugary fruit drink she'd been a fan of lately. "Sorry, I forgot I had these." She gave both parts of her lunch to Kurt. "I had a big breakfast, so I'm not hungry." She smiled meekly, hoping that the boy didn't realize she rarely had more then that during lunch because she was usually in the studio working.
For any hunters, you can read about the show on the web, magazine, or be watching the same program. Research will show hints of the same woman through stories, portraits, as well as songs. Marianne's way of holding onto humanity is through art, and inspiring others to create. She just believes no hunter has figured out she's real.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Marianne smiled her thanks to Kyle as the young vampire had taken the disc and began the process of transferring the new album over to the iPod. "Thank you Kyle, I admit the new age is still difficult for me." She stammered, it wasn't that it was difficult persay, Marianne simply chose to work her magic through those who often never relied upon technology to create their craft. So simply, she did not need to learn it herself.
As Kyle continued to load the iPod with her new music, the television program switched to a promotion Marianne was quite familiar with.
"Miriam, with their new lead single My Dark Heart has taken the charts by storm. They'll be performing a midnight show for everyone all their fans..." The announcer continued to chatter about the location, and the theme of the band before panning to the lead musician, the pale black haired vocalist herself. She smiled a ruby smile to the cameras before she spoke.
"I want to personally invite all of you to enjoy the show, we'll be performing all our favorite songs from the new album. She blushed a little as she announced the surprise for the night, "I want to also want to let you hear for the very first time, Marianne as an acoustic piece." Marianne's ears pricked up at the mention of the song, as an acoustic piece? Her smile mirrored Miriam's on the television as the musician continued. "I was inspired by this story, a dark muse who's been hiding through time and influencing artists. She's alone, and at the same time at the center of all these stories. She's my dark heart, and I want to show her my appreciation with a piece a little...more intimate." Her eyes took on a haze as she seemed lost in her own thoughts, before snapping back. "I want you all to come tonight, let's show the dark muse our appreciation!" There was a roar of applause as the announcer took over for the interview once more.
Marianne was lost in her own excitement, a tribute to her? She'd often influenced writers, artists, and musicians from the shadows. Tempting them with her stories, creating a world they could draw upon, and maybe, just put a little light to what often remained in the dark. She'd seen portraits of the "dark muse", stories of men and women offering their lives to her, yet something about this, felt important to her. Miriam was one of her favorites, she'd visited the musician more than once, with stories of the dark, her lives, her loves, and left her before the dawn. Always leaving the conversations as a hazy memory, just on the edge of Miriam's conscious mind. She always assumed it was a dream, but the look she gave the last night made Marianne feel that maybe she still remembered her. She had to admit, having someone actually remember her was an unusual situation. She'd prided herself on the fact she'd always remained just out of reach of her subjects. She'd been around for so long, that this was how she remained connected to the real world. Lest she'd become lost in the past, much like other vampires. Who eventually grew despondent, and eventually choosing to end their lives by watching a sunrise.
"Kyle! We need to go to that show!" Marianne smiled as she felt herself lost in the music blaring over the television. "I think we all could use a little time outside, and that is the perfect event. I think we should get the others, it would do them good to soak up a little of this century." She grinned excitedly as the chance to hear Miriam's song had her somewhat infatuated. It was an odd sensation, but the chance to feel something may have been worth the chance.
As Kyle continued to load the iPod with her new music, the television program switched to a promotion Marianne was quite familiar with.
"Miriam, with their new lead single My Dark Heart has taken the charts by storm. They'll be performing a midnight show for everyone all their fans..." The announcer continued to chatter about the location, and the theme of the band before panning to the lead musician, the pale black haired vocalist herself. She smiled a ruby smile to the cameras before she spoke.
"I want to personally invite all of you to enjoy the show, we'll be performing all our favorite songs from the new album. She blushed a little as she announced the surprise for the night, "I want to also want to let you hear for the very first time, Marianne as an acoustic piece." Marianne's ears pricked up at the mention of the song, as an acoustic piece? Her smile mirrored Miriam's on the television as the musician continued. "I was inspired by this story, a dark muse who's been hiding through time and influencing artists. She's alone, and at the same time at the center of all these stories. She's my dark heart, and I want to show her my appreciation with a piece a little...more intimate." Her eyes took on a haze as she seemed lost in her own thoughts, before snapping back. "I want you all to come tonight, let's show the dark muse our appreciation!" There was a roar of applause as the announcer took over for the interview once more.
Marianne was lost in her own excitement, a tribute to her? She'd often influenced writers, artists, and musicians from the shadows. Tempting them with her stories, creating a world they could draw upon, and maybe, just put a little light to what often remained in the dark. She'd seen portraits of the "dark muse", stories of men and women offering their lives to her, yet something about this, felt important to her. Miriam was one of her favorites, she'd visited the musician more than once, with stories of the dark, her lives, her loves, and left her before the dawn. Always leaving the conversations as a hazy memory, just on the edge of Miriam's conscious mind. She always assumed it was a dream, but the look she gave the last night made Marianne feel that maybe she still remembered her. She had to admit, having someone actually remember her was an unusual situation. She'd prided herself on the fact she'd always remained just out of reach of her subjects. She'd been around for so long, that this was how she remained connected to the real world. Lest she'd become lost in the past, much like other vampires. Who eventually grew despondent, and eventually choosing to end their lives by watching a sunrise.
"Kyle! We need to go to that show!" Marianne smiled as she felt herself lost in the music blaring over the television. "I think we all could use a little time outside, and that is the perfect event. I think we should get the others, it would do them good to soak up a little of this century." She grinned excitedly as the chance to hear Miriam's song had her somewhat infatuated. It was an odd sensation, but the chance to feel something may have been worth the chance.
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