The Dark Realmz
IC Central [RPG ONLY] => "Ayenee Nexus: Where Imagination Knows No Bounds => RP Archives 2005-2019 => Topic started by: Rajin_Asian on November 13, 2007, 01:36:23 PM
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Here, here, and here. He touched the different pieces of soft tissue. The first was the deep pit between his collar bones and at the base of his neck. The part of his skin turned white as he touched and mumbled in his mind, his lips tremoring here. The second time, he pressed on his diaphram and he could imagine the sinew tearing from him and he wondered if he had enough in him to severe his spine. The the last one was along his thigh. He knew he could do that one two ways and so his interest grew. Severing the artery was so cliche, but the second route would be an accurate blugdeoning, causing a hemotoma, it would be a painless death at that.
The ooze went down like sulfur and sunfire. The death of the brimstone in clear liquid form fizzed and burned down his throat and then encroached all feeling from him for a few seconds and he would sneer from the distinct taste. "Ta same ole' shit, same ole' fuckin' day!" Jnord [Nee-y'ord] said under his breath, the stupor of intoxication already setting in.
"THE SAME OLE SHIT, THE SAME OLE FUCKIN DAY, EH BOYS?!" The bartender slapped the dirty wet rag over his bare shoulder and his other hand slapped the wooden bar and then a rapping of glass began as the drunkards cheered.
He let out a sigh and then started to mumble, "Oh dinny be rainin' again..."
"Oh dinny be rainin' again!" a black bearded maurauder growled.
The same old day the same old people, the same same. Jnord sat at the Tavern every day, sometimes he'd pass out here and sometimes at the cheap inn he had for the past oh - he began to think and he couldn't remember when he came to the loathsome town. He only knew one thing and that was this day. He replayed the same day over and over. He contemplated suicide the same way over and over as well.
He was an old veteran, his scragled hairs form his chin and the dotted mustache above his calloused lips murmured out the lines of the folks here and he would end up killing six of them, six he had to kill. He knew that much, sometimes he'd kill everyone just for shits and giggles, but he'd always wake up in his bed with a headache, and the scars, but the day would be the same and the cruel life of those he had killed were back every night, waiting for the slaughter.
One more hour and the blood bath would begin and he'd go to sleep and he'd come back again. He wondered if suicide would stop this quagmire.
[hr:65fd37f9f7]
OOC: This is one of my original story lines from one of my modern rp's, I decided I'd give it a shot on here. So for that purpose, I must note, that if you jump in, please be 'new' to the Tavern, otherwise the story will turn out one sided and lame as fuck. I don't know the ending because I never finished it. But there can be as many members as one wants, but at least ONE has to be 'new' to the Tavern. Possibly a 'regular' to the tavern, even to that day, but you cannot 'recognize' my character.
IF this is too controlling, don't play. I know how the story line works in the beginning, and I've done it many other ways, but those other ways make it eat shit, so please, abide by that simple rule and it will take off - promise.
Thanks.