wingedbeast

Establishing Shot: The town Thunderdome. Various people hang on the outer walls. A few in leathers and withs various styles of spiked hair. Some are orcs in traditional garb. At least one of them is Grodd in a metal breastplate and Roman-style cape. There is no chanting, but a hush as they watch something.

The camera pans down, past someone in a jersey and sipping at a beer, to the entry door.

Azrael: They're right through here.

Bartleby: Azrael, there's been something I've wanted to say.

Azrael opens the door, but pauses: What is it?

Bartleby: You... You were our friend. But, you manipulated us. You used us.
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Continued from http://wingedbeast.dreamwidth.org/5131.html

Setting: The large, industrial basement of some building. The room is packed with Zion revolutionaries, all in the customarily excessive leather and sunglasses.

Morpheus (perhaps looking out at the group, it's hard to tell with those sunglasses): I have to ask. Does anybody remember why we meet, like this, in the Matrix, itself? It begins to occur to me that hanging around the Matrix in loud leather outfits that mark us as abnormal is a bad idea.

Unnamed Zion Revolutionary: That's just because you have Wot on your team. We've all had those conversations with him, he messes with your mind.

Morpheus: That doesn't mean that he's entirely wrong. From a purely functional perspective, should we not be trying to blend in, wearing suits like themselves? Or at least dressing down?

Unnamed Zion Revolutionary: Listen, once he has you questioning whether or not terrorist tactics with unimaginable body-counts are a good way of freeing people from The Matrix, he can get you to question everything.
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Setting: Down a road from the Multiverse Multiport... or up a road. North by south of the Mulitverse Multiport, and a little of an unspecified verticle direction stands The Total Theatre. The Total Theatre is large, boasting many movie theatres in which one can watch a variety of movies, particularly the movies referenced in fictions but that never make it into that semi-mythical land known as reality.

Camera pans slowly over various doors to theatres, signs displaying different movies.

From a theatre boasting a showing of Groundhog Day 12 stream five boys and a young girl, all minded by an older gentleman they, seemingly without disrespect, refer to as "Scary German Guy".

The next movie theater is about to show a film version of Bloodaxe and Ironhammer. On the way to, a man in somewhat shabby breastplate and helmet says to his well-dressed wife: I get that it's a romantic epic but...

Sybil: They're both dwarves, dear.

Camera continues to pan past the ticket counter.

Jack Slater: No, really, Stalone is great in it.

Camera finally pulls back to focus on two young men, each in their late teens. One with black hair, green eyes, and Mediterranean complexion. The other is fairer, blond with blue eyes, and wearing a noticable amount of green.

Percy Jackson: I don't have good luck with movies.

Magnus Chase: Let's just choose. If we choose a bad one, we're only out a few bucks.

Percy Jackson: You don't understand. You haven't been adapted for film.

A figure looking like Tom Hiddleston in a green suit leans down to poke his head between the two.: It didn't go all that great for me, either.
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Establishing Shot Exterior: The Multiverse Multi-port. The camera-side of the port is an airport with a grassy lawn by a parking lot. To the left is a lush coach port and a mid evil village. To the right is a stagecoach mail pickup amidst a desert. Opposite the camera, you can see a sea port with a ship at port sporting a black flag.

The Camera moves over and shifts just by one degree and the stagecoach disappears, replaced by a futuristic, undersea, submarine airlock. The sea port disappears to be replaced by a star-filled space-port.

Close up shots sequence through multiple signs in multiple languages, each seeming to say the same thing. The camera rests on a sign in English.

Sign reads: Warning! Attempts to comprehend the architecture and geography of the Multiverse Multi-port are connected to nose-bleeds, migraines, and exploding heads. Do not attempt! Multiverse Multi-port will not be held responsible.

The camera pans to the side to show a wide open, two story fashion shop, the sign above reading "The All Purpose Fashion Experience".
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Exterior Shot: A grey, stone castle surrounded by wooden defensive walls. Snow falls amidst fir trees. In the courtyard stands a pale tree with red leaves and, whether carved or naturally, the appearance of a face on the trunk, leaking red sap.

Interior Shot: A mostly empty banquet hall. Straw lines the ground. At one end of the table sits an old man with a long, flowing beard, wearing a purple cloak with gold trim. His chest is heavily muscled and bare. A raven rests on each shoulder.

Odin: They're deliberately reaching into our ancient canons, now.

At the other end of the table is an old man with his own long, curly beard. He wears a toga that leaves half of his own heavily muscled chest bare.

Jupiter: Canons that have been accepted whole-cloth as the invaluable cultural artifacts that they are.

Neddard Stark: I am not unmoved. I am a leader, myself. I know, well, what a leader needs from those over whom one stands as Lord and Protector. Yet, I neither have your own canonical power nor the deep impact upon culture of either of yourselves.
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Wide shot on a Colosseum. In the center is a large, clay sculpture of a man in recline. Camera pulls back to reveal that the building is but a model on a table.

Standing over the model is a woman in a loose royal blue robe with gold trim. An owl perches upon an outstretched arm.

Athena: If we're going to keep employing half-mortal children to do our jobs for us, we may as well start a camp.

Accross the table stands a woman in a robe with greens and reds and silver trim.

Artemis: Really? You're trying to link the legends up to the Percy Jackson series.

Athena: The books, only, not the movies.

Artemis: Well, good for that, at least. But, still. We're above that kind of thing.

Athena: I'm can be a fan-girl if I want to. I'm a goddess, who's going to stop me?
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Setting: A dark cliffside, lit only in a dim, orange and red light. Boulders hover in the air, attached by chains to the cliff. Jutting out from the metalic cliff is a giant, steel-and-girder construction made to look like a dragon's head. Ontop of the dragon's head stands a red humanoid, baring horns, elongated ears, bone spurs jutting out from knees, elboes, and shoulders. Long red wings hang behind the person.

One boulder is very large indeed. Ontop of this boulder stands Alanis Morissette god, who rolls her eyes and motions to the Metatron.

Metatron: Our offer remains. We can arrange a very comfortable meeting within our canonical realm.

Scar paces around the edge: New Jersey has an unfortunate dearth of lion-friendly locals.

Reepicheep: And, with all due respect, you cannot expect us to trust you in a realm where you have nigh-infinite power.

A.M.God throws up her hands in exasperation

Metatron: My lord... or lady, whichever depending on desire at the moment, is the very force of goodness in that realm. What could you possibly have to fear?

Azrael sits down at the center of the rock and looks out at the infinite expanse of cliff side.: Goodness? That's the debate we're here to have.
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Setting: The BHB Orchard, later on in the picnic.

Peter sits, silent and stern, with arms crossed.

Susan: Edmund, if you would take a walk with me. I'm quite sure that Cain and Peter haven't exhausted their conversation.

Peter remains silent.

Cain: Oh, I can explain the biological history of modern domesticated plants. For instance, do you know that cabbages, broccoli, and cauliflower share a common ancestor?

Peter narrows his eyes and ignores Cain, but talks to Edmund: Don't trust her. With the kind of company she keeps, these days, she's probably working with the White Witch.

Susan: Certainly, but she's a force of winter. I never bring her around here, she'd ruin the crops and I refuse to live in a world without Officer DeVille's apple pies.

Susan: Besides, Edmund, you're a Pevensie. Taking unnecessary, easily seen and completely useless risks to further the plot is just part of what we do.

Cain: I have pictures, in this book, of what corn looked like just a scant 100,000 years ago.

Edmund looks at Cain, looks at Peter's increasing anger.: Let's take that walk.
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Establishing Shot: Hall of Justice: Superfriends version.

Inside, at the meeting table, characters better animated than their surroundings sit.

Flash squirms in his seat.

Batman gives Flash a look.

Flash: These chairs are just so poorly animated. I can't get comfortable.

Batman: Nobody can get comfortable. It's not a well fleshed out iteration.
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Setting: Dinner around a round table. Dishes are set out before the seated. The meal is a stew made, primarily, of barley, local vegetables, and leftover mutton and broth.

King Arthur: You look surprised.

High King Peter: I suppose we had expectations.

King Edmund: Maybe not the right expectations. Whether you were raised by Sir Ector or by poorer farmers, a humble upbringing is a part of your story.

High King Peter: But, we did expect King Arthur to eat like a King.

King Arthur: This is eating like a King for this time. There is meat in this meal and this isn't even a seasonal festival.
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