Christobel Starsky / Commander Starscream (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
reapsthewind) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2013-04-27 07:51 pm
reapsthewind) wrote in savetheearth2013-04-27 07:51 pm
Entry tags:
- !open,
- #action,
- gundam unicorn: mineva lao zabi,
- hatoful boyfriend: yuuya sakazaki,
- legend of heroes: leonhardt,
- marvel cinematic universe: steve rogers,
- middle earth: aragorn,
- original: alexander varista,
- parasol protectorate: randolph lyall,
- s-cry-ed: kazuma,
- transformers animated: megatron,
- transformers g1: starscream,
- yu-gi-oh!: bakura ryou
[open] Tear it down. Tear it ALL down (snake teardown thread)
Who: Anyone. Seriously. This is an open log, and you don't even have to know it's happening! Wander in! help commit crimes! YAY
What: BREAKING THAT STUPID STAKE STATUE IN THE DEAD DISTRICT. BREAKING IT HARD.
Where: Snake statue, dead district.
When: Saturday night
Chris had taken extra precautions earlier in the week. She'd bought clothes at five different thrift stores throughout the city, clothes that didn't match and weren't her usual style, and paid with cash. Ratty tennis shoes a size too big for her (shored up with insoles and stuffed with socks). Nondescript black hoodie, too big, no logo. Nondescript baggy black jeans, again, a size too big, held up by rope, not a belt. A ski mask. A bandanna. And today, she wore her blue contact lenses, not the usual brown ones, a color she'd only used once, four years ago for an MIT costume party.
She'd also picked up a huge ratty old rolling suitcase the same way, and had filled it with rope, a pulley, and yes, a sledgehammer. And then, finally, she'd rolled around in the dirt. Really. Seriously.
She looked, for all the world, like just another homeless wreck. She hoped everyone else had the sense to follow suit.
Gear ready, it was time to go break shit.
What: BREAKING THAT STUPID STAKE STATUE IN THE DEAD DISTRICT. BREAKING IT HARD.
Where: Snake statue, dead district.
When: Saturday night
Chris had taken extra precautions earlier in the week. She'd bought clothes at five different thrift stores throughout the city, clothes that didn't match and weren't her usual style, and paid with cash. Ratty tennis shoes a size too big for her (shored up with insoles and stuffed with socks). Nondescript black hoodie, too big, no logo. Nondescript baggy black jeans, again, a size too big, held up by rope, not a belt. A ski mask. A bandanna. And today, she wore her blue contact lenses, not the usual brown ones, a color she'd only used once, four years ago for an MIT costume party.
She'd also picked up a huge ratty old rolling suitcase the same way, and had filled it with rope, a pulley, and yes, a sledgehammer. And then, finally, she'd rolled around in the dirt. Really. Seriously.
She looked, for all the world, like just another homeless wreck. She hoped everyone else had the sense to follow suit.
Gear ready, it was time to go break shit.