http://horus-neferti.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
horus-neferti.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
discedo_logs2009-03-10 12:56 pm
horus-neferti.livejournal.com) wrote in discedo_logs2009-03-10 12:56 pm
People have nothing to say, but they are afraid of silence,
Who: Neferti and anyone who would like to rp [OPEN]
Where: Near residential areas.
When: now?
Rating: Should be fine. (pg) Subject to change if it does.
Summary:Just walking/scavenging.
the log:
It was most troublesome being away from Waghdas, and really, it’s far too much work to build new connections. He always hates this part of the job, whenever he arrives in a new place or new time, it’s always the same. Culling the useful from the herd. Neferti enjoyed social occasions, but his intimate circle was limited, even back in Egypt. Here he had seen no sign of the Nova Police or the White Hunters. That was indeed curious.
Those he was invariably sharing this place with all seemed to be infected by the Word. Dead already or nearly soulless. He as sure the Venusians were deep in their minds, controlling them without their knowledge. Too much TV and coca-cola. All of them. Traitors to the human race because of their ignorance, although there might be a few who could be redeemed. Besides, to kill them all would be tiring and more trouble than it was worth. Like killing all of New York or scooping a handful of mud from the river, more mud would simply wash into the hole. Better only to kill those who would break the laws of control. At least for now.
It was enough to addict one to Cobra Venom really. Neferti suspected he would be dosing heavily at the moment, if he had the venom to spare. It wasn’t finding new poison that would be the problem—this land was toxic and soulless and had more than an adequate supply, but his precious mixes... the truly beautiful and evil ones, he wanted to keep, for special occasions.
He was dressed in his Invisibles. The clothes that in almost any time and any place on the globe would mark him as completely belonging. Darkly faded pants and turtleneck. He knows despite being somewhat rumpled he still looks terribly dashing and knows just the sound of his cape swishing against the ground is enough to knock the poison words from the mouth of a stupid redneck. Along with their teeth.
Neferti is searching the streets, wandering casually without direction or purpose. He had been surprised by the creatures at first. Monsters of course, but he was well enough trained to avoid them, and some of them felt like the Scorpions and Centipedes so he knew where they were. He was searching for a flail now, or something he could fashion into one. They had been in fashion when he’d left Waghdas and with the ruined twisted and crumbling buildings he thought he might find something appropriate he could shape into one.
Where: Near residential areas.
When: now?
Rating: Should be fine. (pg) Subject to change if it does.
Summary:Just walking/scavenging.
the log:
It was most troublesome being away from Waghdas, and really, it’s far too much work to build new connections. He always hates this part of the job, whenever he arrives in a new place or new time, it’s always the same. Culling the useful from the herd. Neferti enjoyed social occasions, but his intimate circle was limited, even back in Egypt. Here he had seen no sign of the Nova Police or the White Hunters. That was indeed curious.
Those he was invariably sharing this place with all seemed to be infected by the Word. Dead already or nearly soulless. He as sure the Venusians were deep in their minds, controlling them without their knowledge. Too much TV and coca-cola. All of them. Traitors to the human race because of their ignorance, although there might be a few who could be redeemed. Besides, to kill them all would be tiring and more trouble than it was worth. Like killing all of New York or scooping a handful of mud from the river, more mud would simply wash into the hole. Better only to kill those who would break the laws of control. At least for now.
It was enough to addict one to Cobra Venom really. Neferti suspected he would be dosing heavily at the moment, if he had the venom to spare. It wasn’t finding new poison that would be the problem—this land was toxic and soulless and had more than an adequate supply, but his precious mixes... the truly beautiful and evil ones, he wanted to keep, for special occasions.
He was dressed in his Invisibles. The clothes that in almost any time and any place on the globe would mark him as completely belonging. Darkly faded pants and turtleneck. He knows despite being somewhat rumpled he still looks terribly dashing and knows just the sound of his cape swishing against the ground is enough to knock the poison words from the mouth of a stupid redneck. Along with their teeth.
Neferti is searching the streets, wandering casually without direction or purpose. He had been surprised by the creatures at first. Monsters of course, but he was well enough trained to avoid them, and some of them felt like the Scorpions and Centipedes so he knew where they were. He was searching for a flail now, or something he could fashion into one. They had been in fashion when he’d left Waghdas and with the ruined twisted and crumbling buildings he thought he might find something appropriate he could shape into one.