[Video]

Dec. 14th, 2011 09:27 pm
pterosaur: (💔Quickly lost)
[Just a shot of snow, which would be pristine if she hadn't written on it by dragging a stick through, deeply enough to show dead leaves underneath. The words are visible enough, but it's just this one part which is in frame.]

-nd ran away from:
family
school
the old crew
everyone I knew
my own species
my world
and people who n[the rest is cut off.]
pterosaur: (🎧Trail away your robes of sorrow)
[The device is hanging from the base of Janine's neck. There's a fringe of pale not-hair, which on that part of her body is fluffy and almost cravat-like, hanging over the upper edge of the screen. Most of the rest of her isn't visible, but wing-arms on each side and the underside of a perspective-distorted long beak are coming in and out of view.]

[She's on sand, using a big clawed left wing-hand to drag large flat shells and bleached white sand dollars out in front of her, extending her beak to pierce each with a pock! and, more often than not, a crack! as it breaks. Then, if it's intact she scoots it out of view across the sand with her beak; if not, she uses a big clawed right wing-hand to drag the pieces away and, after a pause, there's the left again.]

[Meanwhile, she's projecting a certain song. It's not quite a recording; there's the instrumental fine, but the words are a little off, and the singer sounds similar to but not exactly like Phil Harris.]


*pock-crack!* Now give me the secret man-cub! *pock!* I made a deal with you! *pock-crack!*

Come on *pock-crack!* clue me, what you'd do *pock-crack!* show me the powah, of man's red flowah- *pock-crack!

[There's a frustrated caw.]
pterosaur: (Default)
Hey, knight or knights and your crew, whoever you are?

I have to admit, you've done some mean backjumps. Pretty much everywhere people live, you've bombed; I love the dress-ups on the bridges, and that slam in front of the hall of beginnings? Impressive. I guess your tag's the trollface. If I was you and trying to go all-city, I'd try for more throw-ups and a piece or two, a real burner, but hey, I can't handle the cannons. I'm not a writer anymore. [Except that one time in the theater parking lot. And around her nest.]

But now you're slinging my tag around. You're biting my style. That is not on. There's only one garish time traveling psychic anachronism slumming it here, and she's me. Unless there's another, in which case hey, you're awesome, we should hang out.

[She is using graffiti terminology. ...And not being entirely serious, but she is annoyed about seeing her tag a couple times. 'Time traveling' was underlined after a comment from Key. And then she gets ~flashy~. These five letters practically span from one side of the page to the other.]

pterosaur: (⅋Many people do.)
[This is pretty close to how I imagine Above's writing is like. Messy, thick-marker stuff, but legible. Though she can fit more letters per line.]

[There's a blot on the paper. She wants to thank the people who watched her glass cocoon, but... Anyway.]


So anyone heard of a nothlit before?  And

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"Horizon" Janine Farehouse

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