#ozonelasher

TAGGED BY: @ozonelasher

TAGGING: anyone else want it? all yours!

1 ) WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE ?

On his own, Rex likes using shampoo/bodywash with a tropical scent profile, usually hints of pineapple/coconut/lime. His energy aura adds to it, as on a cosmetic level it resembles the filtered rays of a summertime sun.

After flying at mach speeds or performing atmospheric re-entry he tends to retain a smell he calls 'eau du afterburner,' that gives the sense of an object flying at high speed and altitudes. Perhaps like working on a landed fighter jet at an airfield hangar, as a point of closest comparison.

2 ) HOW OFTEN DOES YOUR MUSE BATHE / SHOWER ?  ANY HABITS ? 

Tries to wash daily. He also technically cleans up a lot when his cosmic energy aura is raised prominently, after atmospheric re-entry friction, a brief dip in lava, etc

3 ) DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY TATTOOS OR PIERCINGS ?

None currently.

*Piercings are not impossible, but are difficult to apply. Tattoos are a bit easier.

4 ) ANY BODY MOVEMENT QUIRKS ( EX : LEG SHAKING ) ?

Tends to look over his shoulder more than one might expect.

Gesturing when speaking at length

Tapping his foot, to music or impatiently

Flicking/brushing upper lip or nose with thumb

Being a cartoonish fellow, he can have some less consistent expressive actions here and there. (and then I have to slow down and think of what he actually does on the regular!)

5 ) WHAT DO THEY SLEEP IN ?

Usually just a t-shirt and some comfy old pants or lower set pajamas. If it's been especially quiet lately he gets a full set of button-up pajamas instead.

6 ) WHAT’S THEIR FAVORITE PIECE OF CLOTHING ?

A bright green hoodie that like most of his clothes, has been treated unstable molecules style to be more durable. He considers it lucky!

A pair of dark blue, stretchy wristbands that always seem to have the right amount of elasticity. They're mistaken for tape/wraps.

A white suit jacket, teal dress shirt, and pink tie/pink lens sunglasses. Worn with a pair of white/grey/dark blue slacks. Very Miami Vice. When the parties are a bit fancier than usual.

7 ) WHAT DO THEY DO WHEN THEY WAKE UP ?

Slowly struggle to get out of bed.

Brush teeth/gargle mouthwash at hyper-speed to get it over with, general clean-up procedure in the bathroom.

Grab something quick for breakfast if there's anything left-- otherwise pop out around the corner to a neighborhood shop and hope to have enough pocket change...

8 ) HOW DO THEY SLEEP ?  POSITION ?

Switches up a lot between sides and back. Limbs spread out a little, but not splayed all over the place. Some slight snoring or rumbling noises. A light sleeper, and gets lighter in relation to his daytime anxiety. Rarely ever goes through sleep without dreaming in some form. Likes to wake up late and will schedule things to allow for this.

9 ) WHAT DO THEIR HANDS FEEL LIKE ?

Surprisingly, a little soft. But firm in their grip.

10 ) IF YOU KISSED THEM, WHAT WOULD THEY USUALLY TASTE LIKE ? 

The scent of artificial lemon was almost cloying but Antares supposed it would fade in time. Better to smell of multipurpose cleaner than of blood and oil, in his humble opinion. He had places to be after this. That and he just want stuff to dry up in the little gaps of his segmented tail.

The career villain looked up at the approaching stranger. Out of habit, the bladed tail he'd been wiping clean was quickly tucked away behind him (as if it were something he needed to hide in this identity).

Given the nature of his leadership role, it is not uncommon to see Miguel endlessly glued to any number of golden holoscreens at a given time, fingers constantly pressed against the pulse of the multiverse. Diligent to a fault, whilst always at the ready, poised to act, he wasn't without his blindspot. As time wore on, he oversaw an increasing number of Spider variants flocked to the Society on a constant basis, more volunteers that was his to guide and direct as he saw fit, whilst overlooking matters that struck close to home.

Not until a particular alarm started blaring its ear-splittingly loud klaxon call, anyway.

Reaching for the off button, a quick search of the relevant logs yields a concern worth addressing in person, given that evidence of an intruder had been detected in a section of the Society's building that few personnel had access to. The type of area where, in a previous life, Miguel had toyed with developing a means to safely recombine different sets of DNA, with the aim of resulting in a new kind of organism that was comparable with life.

To suffer a break-in suggested the thief had an idea what to look for, and even if that wasn't to be the case, it still wasn't an excuse for delaying any further than necessary. Hence, moving on the double, a full 20 minutes pass before Miguel arrives at his destination, a storage container, nestled amidst several, similarly sized boxes, contained within a climate controlled room. The third container box along had appeared to suffer the worst of the damage, with its door appearing not only to be dented and mangled, but also melted in places, sometimes large enough for someone to slip inside.

Not good.

Especially when the prizes contained within held the potential to warp all forms of life as the universe knew it, if ever misused. A realisation that hits with all the force of a runaway truck as it dawns on him. But although that was a genuine concern, his tasks weren't done just yet, for there was still the matter of identifying his intruder.

To that end, he positions himself at the melted container's only exit, the interior gloomy for the most part, with two structures that were reminiscent of school classroom equipment lining the container's with. Upon which also sat the main attraction; circular containers that held samples of modified plant and animal DNA. One of which, to his own shock and bemusement was being reached for by a white gloved that.

Ordinarily, planets that had been devastated and were largely devoid of life were of no interest to the destroyer, but he had chosen this planet to visit for personal reasons. Mainly, that it had offered isolation from anything he believed might've bothered him.

But now, it would seem someone else had arrived. There was the possibility that someone had tried tracking him down to try and put down the cat, but that possibility was swept to the side as quickly as it popped in his head.

Whoever she was, she didn't seem like she was seeking him out in particular. But still, he decided to approach the stranger, offering a cordial smile as he did so.

"How peculiar, I had been told that this planet was abandoned, and yet it seems that someone else has decided to pay it a little visit."

Being in a decent mood, he kept a fair amount of distance from her, the smile never faltering from his face.

Hughie had never lived outside of New York before this. The furthest state had ever visited before this had been Maine, on a rare vacation with his dad when he was a kid. It probably would have been safer for him to move out to the country and live in absolute seclusion, but the thought was too foreign, too frightening when running away from the Seven was terrifying enough on its own.

So Hughie had settled on Phoenix. Bought a plane ticket to Albuquerque and drove a rental the rest of the way. It was only after spending six months straight not leaving his new apartment save to open the door did he realise that perhaps he ought to actually start living the life he had risked so much to take as his own. That was how Hughie ended up visiting the Grand Canyon.

It felt weird going on vacation on his own, but the longer he spent there, the less he focused on his solitude and more at the wonder of the place. He had settled on sleeping in his car that night, just to admire the stars, something which had been impossible in New York. He was sat on the ground, watching a purple dusk bruise the sky, when he saw it.

Blue flames billowing across the night sky.

Hughie scrambled to his feet, watching with his heart in his throat as the ball of dazzling fire grew in size, passing behind and in front of towering coral hills, until it was out of sight. Birds screeched across the sky, the sound of their flapping wings drowned by the immense boom the seemed to echo across the whole valley.

Something had crashed. Hughie didn't move for a moment, his heart racing. Something he hadn't felt for a long time began to race through him: excitement. Hughie scrambled, grabbing all of his things, shoving them in his rucksack haphazardly. Then, he took off running. It took an hour for him to finally reach the place. Sweating and panting, Hughie stumbled along, until the pillar of smoke emerged before him. What he saw made his eyes his buldge.

Hughie stared, waiting for the mirage to shimmer out of existence. It didn't. He was staring upon a wreckage the likes of which he had never seen before.

"Holy shit..."

80s song starters-- no longer accepting

He was quiet for a long moment, eyes settling on some distant point that he could stare at without really seeing it.  ‘Escape’ was a foreign concept to him, in the context she used.  The only escaping he had ever known was running for his life, fleeing the demon that had plagued his memories since childhood.

o h  you’re right, i totally forgot about that aha ;; it’s been a while since i’ve actually gotten to watch battle of gods orz