@GrizzTheMauler - I heard he is going to take pollution down to zero. Either way, When he and Christopher meet again, remind me that he is due an apology. There are many things about your character that I think Christopher might sympathise with.
Almosegosum
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Bio
So, It has been about a month and I have yet to do this - Righto!
I am a 22 year old aspiring writer and academic - not in a pretentious way, I really want to study for the rest of my life. I am curious about most things - Culture, Language, art, food, music, history, science, politics, philosophy, biology, physics. I believe the best way to escape the ever looming threat of solipsism is to interact with things you know you could not have made up on your own - to confound yourself as much as possible by the seemingly impossible. I like reading as well - and I read anything that is not am outright romance - the once thing that does not interest me, and never has. And I am 22 years old! Mother stop bothering me! The only thing romance is good for is when it allows you side quests in RPG's. I tend to spend most of my salary on books, and I have an ever growing fear that when I intend to actually leave my country and travel the world, I will not be able to take my ever growing list of favorites with me. My greatest aspiration, beyond becoming a celebrated academic - is to reside somewhere in west-Europe and be able to attend opera's and concerts and understand what they are singing without subtitles or synopsi - and hopefully die one day in the middle of one of the great arias.
If you wish for me to join, let me know - I don't often peruse and might miss your prompts.
I am a 22 year old aspiring writer and academic - not in a pretentious way, I really want to study for the rest of my life. I am curious about most things - Culture, Language, art, food, music, history, science, politics, philosophy, biology, physics. I believe the best way to escape the ever looming threat of solipsism is to interact with things you know you could not have made up on your own - to confound yourself as much as possible by the seemingly impossible. I like reading as well - and I read anything that is not am outright romance - the once thing that does not interest me, and never has. And I am 22 years old! Mother stop bothering me! The only thing romance is good for is when it allows you side quests in RPG's. I tend to spend most of my salary on books, and I have an ever growing fear that when I intend to actually leave my country and travel the world, I will not be able to take my ever growing list of favorites with me. My greatest aspiration, beyond becoming a celebrated academic - is to reside somewhere in west-Europe and be able to attend opera's and concerts and understand what they are singing without subtitles or synopsi - and hopefully die one day in the middle of one of the great arias.
If you wish for me to join, let me know - I don't often peruse and might miss your prompts.
Most Recent Posts
@rocketrobie2@pyroman@GrizzTheMauler@LadyRunic
Christopher Harris
Christopher stood still for another few moments. The words Frost had directed at him stung - it showed and highlighted the cowardice that he had been trying to hide since his youth... more-so she also highlighted his desperate need for approval. He could only hope the others did not notice, or would not understand her less than subtle quips. He turned and looked to her - taking in her power stance, and finding it quite lacking, when comparing it to what he would always consider more dangerous examples from his elder brothers and father. "I guess you are right... with all the horrible things -some- of our kind have done in the past, we all must do our best to further some form of sociopolitical dignity for the mutant cause." He raised a single brow slightly, grimacing slightly as he raised his bleeding finger to his lips and sucked on it lightly. He then looked over at the rest of them, lingering on the Raven - "I am sorry for what I said. I am sure you do not have fleas." He looked to Booker - "Shall we be off then?" He directed the other to point where they were to go - while taking out a handkerchief and trying to remove the blood stains from his hand.
Christopher Harris
Christopher stood still for another few moments. The words Frost had directed at him stung - it showed and highlighted the cowardice that he had been trying to hide since his youth... more-so she also highlighted his desperate need for approval. He could only hope the others did not notice, or would not understand her less than subtle quips. He turned and looked to her - taking in her power stance, and finding it quite lacking, when comparing it to what he would always consider more dangerous examples from his elder brothers and father. "I guess you are right... with all the horrible things -some- of our kind have done in the past, we all must do our best to further some form of sociopolitical dignity for the mutant cause." He raised a single brow slightly, grimacing slightly as he raised his bleeding finger to his lips and sucked on it lightly. He then looked over at the rest of them, lingering on the Raven - "I am sorry for what I said. I am sure you do not have fleas." He looked to Booker - "Shall we be off then?" He directed the other to point where they were to go - while taking out a handkerchief and trying to remove the blood stains from his hand.
@rocketrobie2 - I don't know why but I am making Christopher very depressed. It kind makes sense, but I feel bad for doing it. BUt the train is off, and I have no brakes.
@rocketrobie2@pyroman@GrizzTheMauler@LadyRunic
Christopher Harris
Christopher stared at the slightly glowing wall that appeared in front of him. His eyes flicked to the sides, erratically moving across the pane trying to find a way out. He turned around slowly - his teeth clenching as he looked at the man. Dammit! He could hear his father's voice again - rising quickly - How dare this halfwit presume to tell you what to do. He has no authority. Tell him to fuck off and force your way out of this... Do it! Do IT! He forced his thumb nail deeper into the cut on his forefinger - and he could feel a small pool of blood start to collect in his palm. He can't stay here. He was not meant to be among people like these. They did not spend their whole lives in selective isolation. They could act like normal people, react like normal people... not like him. Charming when everything is calm and good, yet blows up at the first sign of discord. HE could feel his breathing start to quicken.
"I need to leave Dr. Booker. I take full responsibility for the strained situation. I... (he used his unbloodied hand to grip his chest, pounding it rather violently, causing him to visibly winch - the act seeming to force his breathing to calm a little bit) I overreacted when another student clearly played a light prank - In my shock I offended the group, as a coping mechanism. This is not something I expected, as I had very rarely before had to defend myself. The fact that my first instinctive recourse is such a violent one, affirms that I am not supposed to be here. It would be best for me to develop these skills on my own, where I am not subject to bouts of irrational distress." As he spoke he could feel his shoulders relaxing, his face taking on his usual practiced calm. He felt his hands relax for the first time since he first saw the tiger - and he offered a small smile. Yes... this was good. This was what he was good at. Feel nothing. Calm, serene - emptiness. The best mood for lying. "I am actually relieved, I had been worried if my various neurosis might offend anyone - the confirmation brings a curious relief. I shall be going now. Goodbye, and sorry for wasting your time." He turned again, and stared at the wall, calmly waiting for it to lower.
Christopher Harris
Christopher stared at the slightly glowing wall that appeared in front of him. His eyes flicked to the sides, erratically moving across the pane trying to find a way out. He turned around slowly - his teeth clenching as he looked at the man. Dammit! He could hear his father's voice again - rising quickly - How dare this halfwit presume to tell you what to do. He has no authority. Tell him to fuck off and force your way out of this... Do it! Do IT! He forced his thumb nail deeper into the cut on his forefinger - and he could feel a small pool of blood start to collect in his palm. He can't stay here. He was not meant to be among people like these. They did not spend their whole lives in selective isolation. They could act like normal people, react like normal people... not like him. Charming when everything is calm and good, yet blows up at the first sign of discord. HE could feel his breathing start to quicken.
"I need to leave Dr. Booker. I take full responsibility for the strained situation. I... (he used his unbloodied hand to grip his chest, pounding it rather violently, causing him to visibly winch - the act seeming to force his breathing to calm a little bit) I overreacted when another student clearly played a light prank - In my shock I offended the group, as a coping mechanism. This is not something I expected, as I had very rarely before had to defend myself. The fact that my first instinctive recourse is such a violent one, affirms that I am not supposed to be here. It would be best for me to develop these skills on my own, where I am not subject to bouts of irrational distress." As he spoke he could feel his shoulders relaxing, his face taking on his usual practiced calm. He felt his hands relax for the first time since he first saw the tiger - and he offered a small smile. Yes... this was good. This was what he was good at. Feel nothing. Calm, serene - emptiness. The best mood for lying. "I am actually relieved, I had been worried if my various neurosis might offend anyone - the confirmation brings a curious relief. I shall be going now. Goodbye, and sorry for wasting your time." He turned again, and stared at the wall, calmly waiting for it to lower.
@Master Crim @bluetommy2
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Mephistopheles growled at the other man, but allowed him to come closer - his master would direct him should he rip the bandaged thing to shreds... He lowered his head even lower to the ground, the growls deepening even more - before they suddenly stopped, when he felt his master's hand on his head. He looked over at Malacoda, the blood seemed to still be seeping slightly from his mouth and nose, as his face hung towards the ground. The dog placed his large head beneath Malacoda's and forced him upright - so that he could sit against the wall behind him.
"Let's... let's focus on what must be done for now." He placed his arm over the hound, and as it rose to it's full height Malacoda stood up with it - shakily keeping himself upright. His eyes flashed to the other man in the room. "I was not made for this..." He whispered it, mostly to himself, as he shuffled into the library. When he had been in his Psychic presence - he had swept the area to see if there were any other people in the building. He felt a few people upstairs... but he had not been able to discern who they were and what they wanted. Mephistopheles walked next to him, where he aided the other in walking. His ears move every now and then, hearing sounds from a few levels up.
When they reached the stairs, Malacoda looked over at the elevators - with an almost imploring look, but it seems that they have been disabled in the emergency situation. He started walking up the stairs in a slow, controlled manner - his steps already a little bit more certain than they were before - even if his hands were still shaking rather violently every now and then. The hound saw his master struggling, and suddenly reared upwards - and onto it's hind legs - its front front paws shifting as if shadow covered them for a moment, before they resembled claws more. It's back became far more developed as well and it's tail longer - now looking far less than a dog and more like... something that would be far happier on the plains of hell. It reached out, and carefully took Malacoda's shoulders, the man placing his arm around the creature's neck. The next moment, it shimmered, moving at an unholy speed up the three flights of stairs.
When Khnemu finally caught up with them, Malacoda was already shuffling down the hallway on the third floor - the hound again in dog form, was sniffling about.
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Dr. Malacoda Zatanna
Uptown Central - In the Gotham Law Library. Gotham
Mephistopheles growled at the other man, but allowed him to come closer - his master would direct him should he rip the bandaged thing to shreds... He lowered his head even lower to the ground, the growls deepening even more - before they suddenly stopped, when he felt his master's hand on his head. He looked over at Malacoda, the blood seemed to still be seeping slightly from his mouth and nose, as his face hung towards the ground. The dog placed his large head beneath Malacoda's and forced him upright - so that he could sit against the wall behind him.
"Let's... let's focus on what must be done for now." He placed his arm over the hound, and as it rose to it's full height Malacoda stood up with it - shakily keeping himself upright. His eyes flashed to the other man in the room. "I was not made for this..." He whispered it, mostly to himself, as he shuffled into the library. When he had been in his Psychic presence - he had swept the area to see if there were any other people in the building. He felt a few people upstairs... but he had not been able to discern who they were and what they wanted. Mephistopheles walked next to him, where he aided the other in walking. His ears move every now and then, hearing sounds from a few levels up.
When they reached the stairs, Malacoda looked over at the elevators - with an almost imploring look, but it seems that they have been disabled in the emergency situation. He started walking up the stairs in a slow, controlled manner - his steps already a little bit more certain than they were before - even if his hands were still shaking rather violently every now and then. The hound saw his master struggling, and suddenly reared upwards - and onto it's hind legs - its front front paws shifting as if shadow covered them for a moment, before they resembled claws more. It's back became far more developed as well and it's tail longer - now looking far less than a dog and more like... something that would be far happier on the plains of hell. It reached out, and carefully took Malacoda's shoulders, the man placing his arm around the creature's neck. The next moment, it shimmered, moving at an unholy speed up the three flights of stairs.
When Khnemu finally caught up with them, Malacoda was already shuffling down the hallway on the third floor - the hound again in dog form, was sniffling about.
@LadyRunic - No, I love it. So much drama and inner turmoil... I live for it. I don't think they would have been friends anyway... they have nothing in common and he really does not like animals... of any sort - but most specifically large traditionally wild animals.
@Silver Carrot - I would not say they met really - it was more of a notice in passing. But I can not think of any reason for him to not like her, they share many things in common I think. Perhaps they might one day be quiet reading buddies... neither offending the other beyond any offence one might garder from the titles of the other's book.
@Silver Carrot- yea, and on his first day Christopher antagonises everyone he meets and then runs away. Maybe he should go overthrow a third world country and become its sovereign leader like DOOM. Then people can't become mad if he lashes out.
@Burning Kitty - But Malacoda wants to be friends. He is interested in him. He wanted to study him and his mind... but now he will have to first convince the other to go to prison, so that he can repent for his unreasonable crimes, and it is hard to become friends and rehabilitate someone through prison. And he can not allow him to get off scott free because that would be against his moral system... which, while malleable - has some concrete aspects that can not be fuddled with, even at the prospect of intercultural exchange
@bluetommy2 - Oh my gods... really. We almost redeem him for a moment before he fucking disintegrate the bloody cop who shot him because he was actively killing people in the first place DURING a bloody terrorist situation! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO MAKE HIM LOOK GOOD NOW!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
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