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Fun and games.
What happens when you start doing masochistic RP experimentation? Like... trolling for RP on Shangri-La? If you look like you fit in there, it's hella dull, is what. Two aborted scenes was enough for me. If you BY NO MEANS fit, then it's hella /funny/.
Amazons - Amazons Books - Main Level
The air is rich with the aroma of new books, and honey-gold wood gleams everywhere. From speakers hidden somewhere above you come soft strains of music too faint to identify.
To one side of the main entrance, several crisp, professional young women stand at a row of cash registers, ready to help customers with their purchases. Opposite the registers is the periodicals section, and in between, just inside the main doors, a large golden box displays an array of books on closeout special, each with its own discount sticker. From there, row upon row upon row of bookcases radiate out, the nearest perhaps as high as the waist of an average human, each subsequent rack a little higher than the one before, until the farthest racks reach to the ceiling. The result is a literary collection which looks even more massive than it actually is.
Fortunately, aisles are placed to divide this veritable ocean of books into manageably sized seas. Above each of these areas, a sign hangs from the ceiling; along with an image of a fierce warrior woman who stands with a proud, defiant slave girl kneeling at her feet, each sign also features the name of a category: Literature, Philosophy, Drama, Psychology, Fiction, and so on. Placed among the shelves are a variety of cozy nooks and reading areas, some out in the open, others hidden away out of sight.
To the far right lies the entrance to the glass-walled media section. To the far left, a sweeping, gently curved staircase leads upwards; a sign hung above it promises a cafe and performance space on the second floor. The keenest of observers may notice that one large bookcase just under the curve of the staircase is ever so slightly askew.
All those randy randy mofos curled up in corners of Shangrila's equivalent of a huge two-story Barnes & Noble, having lots of interestingly erudite variations on sex...
...and none of them were prepared for a teenager sitting on one of those circular library-type stepstools and running word substitutions on the dirty books. It's like adding 'in bed' to the end of a fortune cookie's fortune, but not: seriously, take anything that can be listed as 'erotica' and wherever it has a word for a guy's John Thompson, use the word 'marmoset'. Wherever it's got a word for a lady's ta-tas, use 'galoshes'. Any word you like, so long as it's a word that sounds ridiculous in and of itself.
Bart, the kid who was doing this, started cracking himself up -- and then when he got to a particular passage of something written by Euripides, *completely losing it* laughing.
Roughly thirty seconds later, he's getting up off the sidewalk outside and rubbing his butt, looking rather put out. "Stupid stupids!"
Now, not everyone finds comfort or amusement inside of a bookstore making fun of the books and playing hopscotch with the words. In fact, I doubt Koen's ever been in a bookstore. This doesn't mean he isn't a reader, mind you. He just finds his time better spent at a library instead of at a bookstore. Or perhaps elsewhere. It's merely coincidence that he ambles past as Bart is shown the V.I.P. pass out the door.
Coincidence. Though perhaps there's no such thing in Shangrila. And as the teen shows off his extensive vocabulary skills to just make those damn bastards feel bad for throwing him out on his bottom on the street the dark haired boy can't help but smirk. It's an amuseing sight nonetheless. A sigh he's just /got/ to comment on.
"You tell 'em." Oh, there's no sarcasm at ALL in that statement. None, I swear. Not a single bit of that vile, dripping sort of corrosiveness he's suddenly develpoed. His lips pull for a grin but he holds it away. No need to be TOO rude.
The older boy blinks and glances over at Koen -- over and then down, because he's not used to being this tall, himself. "Huh?" he asks intelligently. Then he pauses, and his whole face brightens. "Oh! You mean I should've been calling them nastier things? Sarcasm, right? Or -- did you actually think I handled that well? I mean, I didn't /really/ wanna insult them, because they kinda had a point. I mean, it's *not* a library. But I don't know where the library *is*!"
Koen doesn't know whether he wants to slam his palm into his face and grind his teeth, or just pity the other. He stands there staring at Brad for a long, drawn out moment before shrugging his shoulders shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "The library is back by Xanadu somewhere, if I'm correct." He points out, almost as if he's bored before he looks back towards the book store again. "I don't know if you handled it well, or... What."
Probably because he knew if it were some other people he'd come in contact with they'd have ripped the shop owners in two for kicking them out. Namely a vampire.. Shrugging his shoulders he tilts his head to the side looking back at the other again. "You were just sitting in there, reading? Why?" He asks incredulously. "I mean, if you wanted to read it /that/ bad why didn't you just buy it?"
"Oh, *awesome*!" crows the fluffy-haired older teen. "Thanks!"
And then there's a blur, and then there's a skreek kinda sound, and then there's the smell of briefly-burnt plastic -- and Bart's about ten feet away from Koen, in the direction of Xanadu. Quite suddenly, one might add. Oh, and he's looking sheepish. "Sorry. Forgot we were still talking. And I didn't want to read it -- I read it already. I was keeping myself from getting bored by reading it through again but substituting some of the words for completely unrelated terms! It's a lot of fun! Just... if you try it, don't try it where there's people who don't wanna hear you cracking up laughing. Because that's totally what just happened. And besides, I couldn't buy it because I have no money! I got here about twenty minutes ago, and all I had in my pocket was twenty-seven cents."
When does this kid /breathe/?
"But anyway, it's all over now -- hi! I'm Bart. Or Impulse. Either one works. Even Imp works, that's what Superboy always calls me," he subject-jumps cheerily, sticking his hand out to Korn.
Koen just...stares. Alright, so his mouth moves just about as fast as his feet do, he's deducted. He raises on eyebrow leaning back just slightly as if he's trying to avoid that barrage of words. He gapes open mouthed wondering exactly that. When does he take the time to breathed? And before he can get his own two cents about the whole thing in the other has introduced himself and is holding out a hand.
"Koen." The boy's brain processes everything about twenty seconds after he's said his own name and taken the Brad's hand. "I'll just call you Brad, thanks." Though his curiosity has just been peaked. "Why does he call you Impulse? And who's Super Boy?"
"Nonono," corrects the older boy, shaking Koen's hand warmly, then taking his own back and shoving his hands in his pockets. "'Bart', not 'Brad'. It's short for Bartholomew! I was named for my granddad, but he was called Barry instead of Bart. And Superboy's a really good friend of mine - one of my *best* friends! He calls me Imp 'cause it's short for Impulse, which is my codename, like Superboy's his. *His* other name is Kon."
All his explanations are quick, sure, but they're also terribly earnest, and in the best possible mood. Enthusiastic, almost. "Us two and a bunch of our friends are all superheroes - second or third, or even fourth generation. So we've got codenames and costumes and everything. I have a regular costume, too, but this is more comfy to wear in the summer. What do /you/ do? Do you live here?"
And it happens again. He's talking a lot, and Koen's understanding everything just a little too late. "Right, right, Bart.." He says with a casual wave of his hand feeling utterly and completely like a moron on the inside. Imp? Sounds like a complex problem to him. But he doesn't say that allowed, he's actually starting to enjoy this older boy's company. Gasp! He doesn't say THAT out loud either. Instead he nods his head and pretends he nows what Impulse is talking about.
And then all of a sudden the subject has changed to him. Wait, what? What happened to super heroes? Third gen-- Oh nevermind. He'll ask later. Koen shrugs his shoulders. "No, I don't live here. I tend to take my residency up in the park." He announces slowly, cautiously, eyeing Bart. "What do I do? Oh, you know.. This and that." He smiles wickedly before stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I'm still getting used to the layout of the area though, so I don't do much but wander."
"Up in the-- oh! Wait so you /do/ live here. In this city, I mean! Like I said, I just got here like twenty minutes ago, so-- oh, you're still getting used to-- *oh*! Okay. So you're kinda new here, but not really new, and you know a *whole* lot more about this city than I do..." The really entertaining part is the shifting of expressions across Bart's face as each new piece of information adds a new layer to his understanding of the situation at hand.
He's actually silent for a second, unfocused and looking at some point on Koen's shoulder, and then his face clears again: thought completed. "So, I guess a lot of people come here completely new, huh? From different worlds? If - I mean, if you don't know who Superboy is. Because he's pretty famous, where I come from. So if a lot of that goes on, do people need paperwork to get jobs? And places to live? I mean, I don't need to sleep much, so that's not really a problem, but I eat a *lot*, so..."
This is where Bart flounders, looking confused. Just a little bit. "Do you mind if I tag along with you? 'Cause... you really seem like you've got it together."
Koen shrugs his shoulders. "I guess you could say I live here. I stay in the park. I know that area like the back of my hand I've been around there so much." He sighs wistfully before shrugging. "I may know a whole lot more, I may not. That depends on how long you've been here and if you've been here longer than I have.
"No..." Koen continues slowly. "I don't think you need paperwork to do much around here. There's too many people coming in and never leaving for paperwork. I'll bet they've got something sorted out that lets someone know when a new person arrives. I mean there's got to be hundreds arriving each day. Frankly I'm not sure where everyone FITS."
The boy draws silent then, screwing up his face thoughtfully. "Superboy..." He says with a shake of his head. "There were comics with characters like that back home... Superman.. Batman... I used to be obsessed with Batman."
"Batman's creepy," announces Bart, "but Robin's cool. He's another one of my best friends. If you're thinkin' of the grownups, then mine's the Flash. The Flash right now is my older cousin, but the one before him was my grandpa, Barry." He's starting to fidget, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, hand up in his hair and idly messing with it, looking at every different person that goes by -- then /forcing/ himself to keep his attention on Koen. Then repeating the whole process.
"That's good, about the paperwork. And you /definitely/ know a lot more than me. I don't know /anything/ about here, but you even read /comics/ about where /I'm/ from," he enthuses, quick like lightning reaching out and taking Koen's hands in his own. "We should totally team up! I mean, you're too nice to be evil, so I trust you! And I can get you around really fast if you want me to, and you can tell me about this place, and -- and if you think of anything else you need, just tell me and I'll see if I can do it!"
Ah, how naive. But then again perhaps Bart isn't utterly inacurate with his statement. If only he'd met Koen about two weeks ago, when he was new and fresh faced in Shangrila.. But in that instance the hard physique falters and the boy smiles. Actually, genuinely smiles. He doesn't, of course, blow off the statements about Bart's friends and the like but he focuses more on the newer statements.
"Me, team up with you?" Oh man. Here comes the boyish excitement he once had, when he was innocent, of wanting to actually meet a super hero. And now he's met one. Something lights up in Koen's eyes, a fire springing to life after being put out some time ago and he nods vigerously. "I'd love to team up with you. I could show you all the places I know, and maybe we could even find places that I don't know. And you can show me places you know too, because there's probably places that you know that I don't. It's not like I've been everywhere you know, and I'm sure you haven't been everywhere either. And the same to you, too. If you think of anything you need and you know I can get it just tell me!" And then he's there, an enthusiastic little boy once again, eager for life and learning.
"/Awesome/!" cheers Bart, literally jumping up in order to do the fistpump of 'YES!!' He has to let go Koen's hands to do it, but then he's holding out one hand again -- not in the 'shaking hands' way, but in the 'take my hand like we're gonna walk down the street holding hands' way. "C'mon! I can't give you my speed /all/ the time, but I can give it to you if you're near me, and it's easier to start if we're in contact. Then we can take a tour at the same speed!"
Koen goes to reach for Bart's hand. He really does, though the instant he gets near he withdraws looking around quickly, his face twisting in an almost vulnerable way before he jerks his head back to Bart smiling. "Actually I've got to go. I.. Er.. I've got to keep moving, I've made myself quite the unfriendly enemy and, unfortunately, he was the reason I headed this way. So I guess I'll have to thank him, since I met you." And Bart is awesome, of course. "So, thanks, but another time. I promise!" And then he turns bolting off down the street.
Amazons - Amazons Books - Main Level
The air is rich with the aroma of new books, and honey-gold wood gleams everywhere. From speakers hidden somewhere above you come soft strains of music too faint to identify.
To one side of the main entrance, several crisp, professional young women stand at a row of cash registers, ready to help customers with their purchases. Opposite the registers is the periodicals section, and in between, just inside the main doors, a large golden box displays an array of books on closeout special, each with its own discount sticker. From there, row upon row upon row of bookcases radiate out, the nearest perhaps as high as the waist of an average human, each subsequent rack a little higher than the one before, until the farthest racks reach to the ceiling. The result is a literary collection which looks even more massive than it actually is.
Fortunately, aisles are placed to divide this veritable ocean of books into manageably sized seas. Above each of these areas, a sign hangs from the ceiling; along with an image of a fierce warrior woman who stands with a proud, defiant slave girl kneeling at her feet, each sign also features the name of a category: Literature, Philosophy, Drama, Psychology, Fiction, and so on. Placed among the shelves are a variety of cozy nooks and reading areas, some out in the open, others hidden away out of sight.
To the far right lies the entrance to the glass-walled media section. To the far left, a sweeping, gently curved staircase leads upwards; a sign hung above it promises a cafe and performance space on the second floor. The keenest of observers may notice that one large bookcase just under the curve of the staircase is ever so slightly askew.
All those randy randy mofos curled up in corners of Shangrila's equivalent of a huge two-story Barnes & Noble, having lots of interestingly erudite variations on sex...
...and none of them were prepared for a teenager sitting on one of those circular library-type stepstools and running word substitutions on the dirty books. It's like adding 'in bed' to the end of a fortune cookie's fortune, but not: seriously, take anything that can be listed as 'erotica' and wherever it has a word for a guy's John Thompson, use the word 'marmoset'. Wherever it's got a word for a lady's ta-tas, use 'galoshes'. Any word you like, so long as it's a word that sounds ridiculous in and of itself.
Bart, the kid who was doing this, started cracking himself up -- and then when he got to a particular passage of something written by Euripides, *completely losing it* laughing.
Roughly thirty seconds later, he's getting up off the sidewalk outside and rubbing his butt, looking rather put out. "Stupid stupids!"
Now, not everyone finds comfort or amusement inside of a bookstore making fun of the books and playing hopscotch with the words. In fact, I doubt Koen's ever been in a bookstore. This doesn't mean he isn't a reader, mind you. He just finds his time better spent at a library instead of at a bookstore. Or perhaps elsewhere. It's merely coincidence that he ambles past as Bart is shown the V.I.P. pass out the door.
Coincidence. Though perhaps there's no such thing in Shangrila. And as the teen shows off his extensive vocabulary skills to just make those damn bastards feel bad for throwing him out on his bottom on the street the dark haired boy can't help but smirk. It's an amuseing sight nonetheless. A sigh he's just /got/ to comment on.
"You tell 'em." Oh, there's no sarcasm at ALL in that statement. None, I swear. Not a single bit of that vile, dripping sort of corrosiveness he's suddenly develpoed. His lips pull for a grin but he holds it away. No need to be TOO rude.
The older boy blinks and glances over at Koen -- over and then down, because he's not used to being this tall, himself. "Huh?" he asks intelligently. Then he pauses, and his whole face brightens. "Oh! You mean I should've been calling them nastier things? Sarcasm, right? Or -- did you actually think I handled that well? I mean, I didn't /really/ wanna insult them, because they kinda had a point. I mean, it's *not* a library. But I don't know where the library *is*!"
Koen doesn't know whether he wants to slam his palm into his face and grind his teeth, or just pity the other. He stands there staring at Brad for a long, drawn out moment before shrugging his shoulders shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "The library is back by Xanadu somewhere, if I'm correct." He points out, almost as if he's bored before he looks back towards the book store again. "I don't know if you handled it well, or... What."
Probably because he knew if it were some other people he'd come in contact with they'd have ripped the shop owners in two for kicking them out. Namely a vampire.. Shrugging his shoulders he tilts his head to the side looking back at the other again. "You were just sitting in there, reading? Why?" He asks incredulously. "I mean, if you wanted to read it /that/ bad why didn't you just buy it?"
"Oh, *awesome*!" crows the fluffy-haired older teen. "Thanks!"
And then there's a blur, and then there's a skreek kinda sound, and then there's the smell of briefly-burnt plastic -- and Bart's about ten feet away from Koen, in the direction of Xanadu. Quite suddenly, one might add. Oh, and he's looking sheepish. "Sorry. Forgot we were still talking. And I didn't want to read it -- I read it already. I was keeping myself from getting bored by reading it through again but substituting some of the words for completely unrelated terms! It's a lot of fun! Just... if you try it, don't try it where there's people who don't wanna hear you cracking up laughing. Because that's totally what just happened. And besides, I couldn't buy it because I have no money! I got here about twenty minutes ago, and all I had in my pocket was twenty-seven cents."
When does this kid /breathe/?
"But anyway, it's all over now -- hi! I'm Bart. Or Impulse. Either one works. Even Imp works, that's what Superboy always calls me," he subject-jumps cheerily, sticking his hand out to Korn.
Koen just...stares. Alright, so his mouth moves just about as fast as his feet do, he's deducted. He raises on eyebrow leaning back just slightly as if he's trying to avoid that barrage of words. He gapes open mouthed wondering exactly that. When does he take the time to breathed? And before he can get his own two cents about the whole thing in the other has introduced himself and is holding out a hand.
"Koen." The boy's brain processes everything about twenty seconds after he's said his own name and taken the Brad's hand. "I'll just call you Brad, thanks." Though his curiosity has just been peaked. "Why does he call you Impulse? And who's Super Boy?"
"Nonono," corrects the older boy, shaking Koen's hand warmly, then taking his own back and shoving his hands in his pockets. "'Bart', not 'Brad'. It's short for Bartholomew! I was named for my granddad, but he was called Barry instead of Bart. And Superboy's a really good friend of mine - one of my *best* friends! He calls me Imp 'cause it's short for Impulse, which is my codename, like Superboy's his. *His* other name is Kon."
All his explanations are quick, sure, but they're also terribly earnest, and in the best possible mood. Enthusiastic, almost. "Us two and a bunch of our friends are all superheroes - second or third, or even fourth generation. So we've got codenames and costumes and everything. I have a regular costume, too, but this is more comfy to wear in the summer. What do /you/ do? Do you live here?"
And it happens again. He's talking a lot, and Koen's understanding everything just a little too late. "Right, right, Bart.." He says with a casual wave of his hand feeling utterly and completely like a moron on the inside. Imp? Sounds like a complex problem to him. But he doesn't say that allowed, he's actually starting to enjoy this older boy's company. Gasp! He doesn't say THAT out loud either. Instead he nods his head and pretends he nows what Impulse is talking about.
And then all of a sudden the subject has changed to him. Wait, what? What happened to super heroes? Third gen-- Oh nevermind. He'll ask later. Koen shrugs his shoulders. "No, I don't live here. I tend to take my residency up in the park." He announces slowly, cautiously, eyeing Bart. "What do I do? Oh, you know.. This and that." He smiles wickedly before stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I'm still getting used to the layout of the area though, so I don't do much but wander."
"Up in the-- oh! Wait so you /do/ live here. In this city, I mean! Like I said, I just got here like twenty minutes ago, so-- oh, you're still getting used to-- *oh*! Okay. So you're kinda new here, but not really new, and you know a *whole* lot more about this city than I do..." The really entertaining part is the shifting of expressions across Bart's face as each new piece of information adds a new layer to his understanding of the situation at hand.
He's actually silent for a second, unfocused and looking at some point on Koen's shoulder, and then his face clears again: thought completed. "So, I guess a lot of people come here completely new, huh? From different worlds? If - I mean, if you don't know who Superboy is. Because he's pretty famous, where I come from. So if a lot of that goes on, do people need paperwork to get jobs? And places to live? I mean, I don't need to sleep much, so that's not really a problem, but I eat a *lot*, so..."
This is where Bart flounders, looking confused. Just a little bit. "Do you mind if I tag along with you? 'Cause... you really seem like you've got it together."
Koen shrugs his shoulders. "I guess you could say I live here. I stay in the park. I know that area like the back of my hand I've been around there so much." He sighs wistfully before shrugging. "I may know a whole lot more, I may not. That depends on how long you've been here and if you've been here longer than I have.
"No..." Koen continues slowly. "I don't think you need paperwork to do much around here. There's too many people coming in and never leaving for paperwork. I'll bet they've got something sorted out that lets someone know when a new person arrives. I mean there's got to be hundreds arriving each day. Frankly I'm not sure where everyone FITS."
The boy draws silent then, screwing up his face thoughtfully. "Superboy..." He says with a shake of his head. "There were comics with characters like that back home... Superman.. Batman... I used to be obsessed with Batman."
"Batman's creepy," announces Bart, "but Robin's cool. He's another one of my best friends. If you're thinkin' of the grownups, then mine's the Flash. The Flash right now is my older cousin, but the one before him was my grandpa, Barry." He's starting to fidget, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, hand up in his hair and idly messing with it, looking at every different person that goes by -- then /forcing/ himself to keep his attention on Koen. Then repeating the whole process.
"That's good, about the paperwork. And you /definitely/ know a lot more than me. I don't know /anything/ about here, but you even read /comics/ about where /I'm/ from," he enthuses, quick like lightning reaching out and taking Koen's hands in his own. "We should totally team up! I mean, you're too nice to be evil, so I trust you! And I can get you around really fast if you want me to, and you can tell me about this place, and -- and if you think of anything else you need, just tell me and I'll see if I can do it!"
Ah, how naive. But then again perhaps Bart isn't utterly inacurate with his statement. If only he'd met Koen about two weeks ago, when he was new and fresh faced in Shangrila.. But in that instance the hard physique falters and the boy smiles. Actually, genuinely smiles. He doesn't, of course, blow off the statements about Bart's friends and the like but he focuses more on the newer statements.
"Me, team up with you?" Oh man. Here comes the boyish excitement he once had, when he was innocent, of wanting to actually meet a super hero. And now he's met one. Something lights up in Koen's eyes, a fire springing to life after being put out some time ago and he nods vigerously. "I'd love to team up with you. I could show you all the places I know, and maybe we could even find places that I don't know. And you can show me places you know too, because there's probably places that you know that I don't. It's not like I've been everywhere you know, and I'm sure you haven't been everywhere either. And the same to you, too. If you think of anything you need and you know I can get it just tell me!" And then he's there, an enthusiastic little boy once again, eager for life and learning.
"/Awesome/!" cheers Bart, literally jumping up in order to do the fistpump of 'YES!!' He has to let go Koen's hands to do it, but then he's holding out one hand again -- not in the 'shaking hands' way, but in the 'take my hand like we're gonna walk down the street holding hands' way. "C'mon! I can't give you my speed /all/ the time, but I can give it to you if you're near me, and it's easier to start if we're in contact. Then we can take a tour at the same speed!"
Koen goes to reach for Bart's hand. He really does, though the instant he gets near he withdraws looking around quickly, his face twisting in an almost vulnerable way before he jerks his head back to Bart smiling. "Actually I've got to go. I.. Er.. I've got to keep moving, I've made myself quite the unfriendly enemy and, unfortunately, he was the reason I headed this way. So I guess I'll have to thank him, since I met you." And Bart is awesome, of course. "So, thanks, but another time. I promise!" And then he turns bolting off down the street.
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