H Trope: Blue
Collar Warlock ("I have an
idea that most of the mystics in comics are generally older people, very
austere, very proper, very middle class in a lot of ways. They are not at all
functional on the street. It struck me that it might be interesting for once to
do an almost blue collar warlock. Somebody who was streetwise, working class,
and from a different background than the standard run of comic book mystics.
Constantine started to grow out of that.")
Current Event: “Forgive
me for getting a bit carried away. I find it an entertaining exercise to look
for those parallels. I simply wonder if the manner in which we tackle the
challenges we face in real life is reflected in the way we tackle our virtual
battles. As a side-note, I'd also be interested to see what kind of people the
Destiny sub consists of.” (http://www.reddit.com/r/DestinyTheGame/comments/2n3xfc/whats_your_primary_class_and_what_do_you_do_in/)
Rafael Pai-Teles sighed. “Eu vou estar
o trabalhar para a Metrô del Belo Horizonte para o resto de minha vida!”
Eduarda Cisota
shook her head and said, “Speak English. Your Portuguese is crappy.”
“I can’t work
for the Belo Horizonto Metro for the
rest of my life!”
Eduarda said,
“What else are you going to do?”
Rafael said, “I
can do something else.”
“You can’t do
anything,” she said. “Now get back to work.”
Rafael scowled.
“I’m worth a lot more than you think I am!” he snapped.
“You’re a kid.
Just like me. You’re gonna run the train and I’m gonna take tickets from now
until forever. It’s what happened. At least we didn’t get turned into
stalagmites. We were lucky to be here when the Donkey Wizard took over Up North.”
“It was the
Elephant Sorceress and she turned everyone into obsidian shards,” Eduarda said.
He threw his
arms into the air and shouted, “Whatever! I can do something about it!”
“About every
living thing being turned into some kind of inorganic obelisk – what can you
possibly do?” Rafael crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. Eduarda rolled
her eyes and said, “That didn’t come out how I meant it to come out.”
“How did you
mean it, as a compliment?”
“No, but I didn’t
mean to sound so...” as she spoke, a train roared into Carlos Prates Estação.
“I have to go
now! I’ll tell you what I can do later!” he shouted.
She watched him
run after the train where he was a porter. His father had been a physicist in
the Aryabhata tradition, dealing with solar energy and, accordingly, solar
weapons. He’d died when the Wizard or Sorceress or whoever turned life to
stone. There was some Christian writer who’d written of a fictional sorceress who
had done then, but she didn’t know who. The train started to pull out and she
cursed. Now she’d have to...As she watched, the concrete platform under Rafael’s
feet shimmered, then appeared to be a mound of living tissue – like a wart or
pimple or something equally disgusting. As it rose though, it allowed Rafael to
step easily on to the train. She rubbed her eyes and when she opened them, her
long-time friend was waving back at her, grinning ear to ear as he pulled from
the station.
Names: ♀ Brazil; ♂ Brazil
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