my fantasy has turned to madness/and all my goodness has turned to badness
WHO: Trowa Barton, A crowd of NPCs and 1410 poor unsuspecting saps all under a curse, and anyone who sees this going on or gets dragged in by accident. ADD YOUR TAGS.
WHERE: Alllllll over the City.
WHEN: Saturday, July 24 (Last Day)
WARNINGS: Do I even need to by now?
SUMMARY: Obsession with an unlucky fool reaches its high points.
FORMAT: Any way that people please! In the initial subject title, though, please mention where you've found him and whether or not it's open to others. Remember that comm-posts can certainly be made on the main C&C page as well!
Saturday's Menu
He'd never believed he'd one day be forced to say it, but he almost missed Puck. At least when that guy put a curse that forced people to stick together on someone it didn't involve a horde of lunatics.
Trowa ducked into the nearest alley in the attempt to shake the group of screaming men and women who had all poured out of a bookstore as he'd passed by, leaving behind one terribly confused author, who'd been there doing a signing session for his new best-seller. For a moment, it seemed to work, most of the crowd continuing to run down the sidewalk yelling his name--but then, some stragglers caught sight of him hiding behind the dumpster; as if they were a flock of birds, able to change leaders on the fly, the mass of yelling, flailing people turned on their heels as one and charged back toward the alley.
"Damn--"
If he could just get to the Winner Corp. building... the sub-basement work garage there was well-protected. Surely nobody would be able to break in and find him there...but then, he'd thought the same of their apartment. Being chased out of one's own residence by twenty men and women was completely humiliating, but fleeing had bought him some time initially. Thinking fast, and recalling one of the most common questions his friends had posed him, he'd told them he'd stay with whomever found his hair gel; when they scattered throughout the house, fighting with each other for the right to search various places, he yanked his boots on, put Leo and Aries in the hidden compartment he'd built into the closet for their own safety, and tore out of the apartment like someone had lit his ass on fire.
Spilling upward into the bulky were-lion, Trowa leaped at the side of the building, hand- and foot-claws piercing the crumbly brick and mortar; a quick scramble up and he hauled himself over the edge onto the roof. They couldn't catch him if he ran topside...
Except for the fact that there was a news helicopter coming in from the left, a cameraman leaning out one side and a woman with a megaphone on the other.
"Trowa Barton! Channel five! Give us an interview, sweetie! Come on, hotcakes, the microphone doesn't bite!"
With a roar of dismay, the boy spun and sprinted in the opposite direction.
WHERE: Alllllll over the City.
WHEN: Saturday, July 24 (Last Day)
WARNINGS: Do I even need to by now?
SUMMARY: Obsession with an unlucky fool reaches its high points.
FORMAT: Any way that people please! In the initial subject title, though, please mention where you've found him and whether or not it's open to others. Remember that comm-posts can certainly be made on the main C&C page as well!
Saturday's Menu
He'd never believed he'd one day be forced to say it, but he almost missed Puck. At least when that guy put a curse that forced people to stick together on someone it didn't involve a horde of lunatics.
Trowa ducked into the nearest alley in the attempt to shake the group of screaming men and women who had all poured out of a bookstore as he'd passed by, leaving behind one terribly confused author, who'd been there doing a signing session for his new best-seller. For a moment, it seemed to work, most of the crowd continuing to run down the sidewalk yelling his name--but then, some stragglers caught sight of him hiding behind the dumpster; as if they were a flock of birds, able to change leaders on the fly, the mass of yelling, flailing people turned on their heels as one and charged back toward the alley.
"Damn--"
If he could just get to the Winner Corp. building... the sub-basement work garage there was well-protected. Surely nobody would be able to break in and find him there...but then, he'd thought the same of their apartment. Being chased out of one's own residence by twenty men and women was completely humiliating, but fleeing had bought him some time initially. Thinking fast, and recalling one of the most common questions his friends had posed him, he'd told them he'd stay with whomever found his hair gel; when they scattered throughout the house, fighting with each other for the right to search various places, he yanked his boots on, put Leo and Aries in the hidden compartment he'd built into the closet for their own safety, and tore out of the apartment like someone had lit his ass on fire.
Spilling upward into the bulky were-lion, Trowa leaped at the side of the building, hand- and foot-claws piercing the crumbly brick and mortar; a quick scramble up and he hauled himself over the edge onto the roof. They couldn't catch him if he ran topside...
Except for the fact that there was a news helicopter coming in from the left, a cameraman leaning out one side and a woman with a megaphone on the other.
"Trowa Barton! Channel five! Give us an interview, sweetie! Come on, hotcakes, the microphone doesn't bite!"
With a roar of dismay, the boy spun and sprinted in the opposite direction.