The streets of London had been set alight by the future; probabilities twisted in streams constructed of vibrant hues, dancing amongst shadowy figures and street lamps. The Northern Lights had no business being in Britain - 'twas not the nature of things. These fluent waves of energy did not abide by any of mankind's accepted sciences. But Nemo had never fit snugly in any particular category crafted by man, either. If he could be slotted neatly behind one of society's titles, a limb would certainly be left dangling free, incapable of squeezing alongside the rest of him due to a lack of sufficient room. He and the future were quite alike in that manner - or, rather, his perception of the Times to Come as Nemo waltzed lethargically throughout the humid evening air, imagining before him the physical manifestation of the tingling warmth that overcame him as his precognition informed him of the small, short-term events that were to occur.
Silky silhouettes outlined the strangers he passed, and Nemo dreamt of each in different colors and consistencies, so to suite the pasts and the futures that he plucked from each as he walked. The spliff that nestled comfortingly between his first and second fingers had been quite the visual aid.
As a sluggish vehicle crawled along the cobblestone, overtaking Nemo, the exhaust did blaze a bottomless shade of black. As it spat from its churning core a cloud of smoke, as deep a red as blood, Nemo braced himself for its oncoming failure.
Beams of yellow erupted from a hooded figure to Nemo’s left, sliding from the man’s shoulders in zig-zagging lines before they crashed against the sidewalk below.
Nemo’s gaze skitted to his right, landing upon a mud-matted feline as it wove to-and-fro along a building side. The fur upon its presently-lax tail was flecked with blue sparks, which glared at Nemo relentlessly. Spikes like those along a Norwegian Ridgeback, penciled in as though London were a notebook upon which Nemo's mind was free to scribble, rose from its back and rolled with the ridges of the cat’s spine as the animal proceeded to prowl throughout the night.
And a woman in the distance (OOC: cue Khaat), her figure too vague to determine the true nature of, yet unmistakably feminine, had been speckled with small star bursts - red. They glimmered against her clothing in stark contrast – like the cosmos, tinted crimson with water paints.
The exhaust pipe,
the homeless man,
the feline,
& the woman.
The engine will fail, and the exhaust will 'explode'.
The sound will frighten the hobo - he'll jerk his shoulders out of surprise.
The cat will shriek, and will dart away from the car towards the chick.
The chick will stand in the cat’s way, and will be clawed by the cat when it springs on her.
whckckck-whckck-CRACK!
“Oh!”
“Raiew!”
Nemo returned his expertly-crafted drug to his smile, and continued on his way: wandering absently towards the woman whom he’d predicted would suffer at the hands – nay, paws – of the frightened stray. How enjoyable it was, to stroll the streets at night.
OOC Notes: The visuals of Nemo's Seer abilities were heavily inspired by some of Van Gogh's later paintings, i.e. the vibrant, glaring auras that surround the lights/stars in his artwork. 'Starry Night Over the Rhone' immediately comes to mind as an example.
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