[OOM: In dreams.]
Dec. 3rd, 2006 11:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mnt_raphINT. TENT THAT DREAMS OF BEING A STUDIO APARTMENT
The scene opens on the interior of Raph's tent as it exists at present, the scene is a desolate one. The camera pans through the space, starting with the front door flap and moving counter-clockwise through the space. As it travels through the living room/sitting area there is a brief pause to take in the one shred of magic still left on the roof: the Raph-shaped clean spot that claims the left-most cushion of the couch. The tour continues over the breakfast bar and through the galley kitchen, before coming to a halt on the remnants of what was once a bed.
Suddenly the alarm clock on the bedside table sputters to life, and the moonlight which bathes the room is augmented by the blue blinking display. The camera pivots to take in the face of the clock which blinks the time: 1:22 am. When it pans back to the bed proper, the bed is not only whole but currently occupied as well. A shirtless Human RAPHAEL lays on his back, his eyes closed.
The scene opens on the interior of Raph's tent as it exists at present, the scene is a desolate one. The camera pans through the space, starting with the front door flap and moving counter-clockwise through the space. As it travels through the living room/sitting area there is a brief pause to take in the one shred of magic still left on the roof: the Raph-shaped clean spot that claims the left-most cushion of the couch. The tour continues over the breakfast bar and through the galley kitchen, before coming to a halt on the remnants of what was once a bed.
Suddenly the alarm clock on the bedside table sputters to life, and the moonlight which bathes the room is augmented by the blue blinking display. The camera pivots to take in the face of the clock which blinks the time: 1:22 am. When it pans back to the bed proper, the bed is not only whole but currently occupied as well. A shirtless Human RAPHAEL lays on his back, his eyes closed.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-19 04:45 am (UTC)Raph, oblivious to anything that isn't baseball related, elbows Indy.
"He's callin' his shot! Check it out! He's totally callin' his next shot! GIVE'EM HELL BABE! MAKE'EM RUN!"
Normally this might very well be the case, but today is anything but normal. No what the Babe is doing, aside from being frozen in abject terror, is pointing towards the enormous space craft that is hurtling through the sky directly above the stadium. The panic sets it around the time that the ship begins to blot out the sun. Cries of panic are lost in the thunder clap of intergalactic rocket boosters.
The players have just enough time to make it off the field before the turf itself explodes upon impact.
Eventually the dust, and sod, settle. The House that Ruth Built is in shambles, and there's not a single Sox fan in sight.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-19 05:20 am (UTC)More because... a gargantuan alien spacecraft just landed at Yankee Stadium!
As he looks on, a door opens in the side of the transport, and a ramp extends down to field level. Down it romps a heavily-armored bipedal triceratops, wearing a space helmet and brandishing a dangerous looking blaster-type rifle. It's followed by a whole gang of similar creatures, none of which seem to be here for the free Eighth Inning seats.
"Uh... they look kinda pissed," Indy says, very observantly.