#open verse starter

[criticalimpxct]

Another nice afternoon meant the perfect time for some training. Terra counted to himself as he pushed off of the earth for another vertical push-up, lowering himself down before repeating the process, completely lost in his own routine.

[criticalimpxct]

It was a beautiful day; the rain from the early morning left a fresh smell in the air, the sun’s light reflecting off dewdrops and small puddles, a light breeze made it feel just right between warm and cool. Terra’s eyes remained focused on the little figurine in his hands, idly carving away at the block and slowly shaping it into something new, allowing himself to fall into his craft entirely for the moment.

He turned the block over in his hands, humming under his breath as he worked, skillful hands knowing just the right way he wanted to carve with his knife, leaving behind a smooth edge before moving on to the next.

[rebirthpyre]

Wes touches down, landing softly due to Sol and Affection's combined efforts. The latter snuggles up to her trainer while Sol begins to servey the area around them.

Another pokemon appears, Lux bursting from his Pokeball without hesitation. Wes checked for Ho-oh's hidden PokeBall, certain it's in place with those of the other legends to whom he cares.

"Aight team." He whispers, lowered his visor to cover his eyes. "Let's get this shit over with."

[troubledtieflings]

Open parade starter || v: The Show Is About To Start

Nadia hovered by her chariot, fidgeting with her outfit and the horses’ tack. It had been days since the Reaping, but still, nothing seemed to feel real - not the costumes or the crowds, or the other teenagers milling about their own chariots, or the fact that in a matter of days, they’d all be thrown in an arena together until only one of them remained.

She stared at all of it, trying to convince herself that it was real, and happening, and that she needed to be prepared.

In the end, all she managed was a half-mumbled, “It never looked this big on the broadcasts...”

[rosecolored-peacock-blog]

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t, but as Rose entered the stage, the stench of burnt flesh and the poor look of grief on Mary’s face said it all. Someone had actually gone so far as to actually kill someone else. It was sickening, and she felt like her breakfast was coming back up.

All blood drained from her face as the little girl announced the death, and Rose lost all feeling in her legs, dropping to her knees. That poor girl, both Mary and the deceased.

How could someone do this? She couldn’t find any explanation. Thoughts swirled her mind as tears poured down her cheeks without any realization.

[cutielibrary]

Fabricated World: Reunion

“I don’t think I’ll play this game,” Angel commented. Though she said this, she was sitting on the stage, fingering what she recognized as Fang’s laptop. It’s the only thing that the Flock have kept track of while on the run. “I don’t have anyway to prove that these aren’t replicas with everything else weird going on in here.”

And she finally had a place where she didn’t run from and never come back to. Why would she want to leave when she could finally have a home that didn’t experiment on her?

[cutielibrary]

Fabricated World

“Hmm? Hello? Is anyone there?” Angel called out as she looked down the hallways of the gallery. From just waking up, her memory was awful fuzzy on what she was doing here, and she couldn’t hear the thoughts of anyone. Maybe they were just being blocked from her, or they were to far away. Max and the other’s had to be here, right?