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| Xeogaming Forums - Game Over - Demise. |
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       Since: 12-31-69 Since last post: 19841 days Last activity: 19841 days |
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(OOC: You're playing the part of a seal-fucking faggot. Enjoy  )
The waves parted neatly before the spear-like head of the Mighty Albatross; an inauspicious name for a ship if ever there was one. Mention of it and its crew was widely spread in the surrounding antartic. Passage hard to come by, but anything could be bought for the right price. Days later, an opening was made on the vessel's next journey north. As to whom had bought space (and quite a pretty penny was spent, if rumours were given credence), naught was known. A name, quickly forgotten, and nothing else was known of this mysterious personage. Days quickly passed, and while the rumours grew to the bursting point, curiosity wasn't sated. As illusive as the dregs of a nightmare, the day had finally come and no sight of their passenger had been made. The crew and their captain, confused at this but not to be delayed, set about getting ready to cast off. The captain lost in thought, staring at an empty space of air, abruptly came to when that same spot suddenly became occupied. Startled, he had no time to control his emotions before the figure was before and past him, quickly entering the deckside cabin. Shaking his head, as if to dismiss the sudden forbodence he felt, he wondered if had done right. If maybe he had let his greed smother his common sense into submission. That night which seemed all too long ago. The night darker than eight kind of hells, and a low fog had rolled in to boot. A perfect evening to be mugged in, he thought with not a little humour. Pity the fool that robbed him--the man would be in for quite the shock. His money at the time, or rather his lack of it, had had him thinking of parting with his ship. Nevermind that it was his from birthright...he had a family to support. And gods didnt he need a drink? Maybe the Skarkle Donn pub would be open and he could grab a drink or two, or three. Smiling, he looked up and nearly screamed. If he had the ability to do so, he would have said the shadows coalesced, midnight in regal wear, flattening to fit the vague form of human. After his initial shock the shadow-man had introduced himself, his intention, and gave him what came about to ten thousand dollars. Did the money really justify the unshaking sense of doom that fell across his shoulders like a heavy cloak? With another shake of his head, he and his crew went about casting off, and soon they were speeding off to the north. Aboard, a shadow stood in silent contemplation of the dying light. *** The shouting of the crew was bracing, grateful even, after the four day long storm that preceeded his arrival to Heard Island. The winds that had battered and threatened to sink the vessel had also carried with it hail the size of a man's fist, and the screeching wails of the undead. (Smirk) Or at least that's what the silly sailors believed. Despite the modern age they lived in, still rumours and myths held the same heavy impact on the seafolk. The world over it was the same, and they were like children in that one respect: undying belief in the things that go bump in the night. That made them better off then the modern 'freethinker' in any case. It meant that when they died and met whatever gods they believed in, their feeling of undisguised terror for him would be justified. Ropes sung in hearty whispers; shifting in tandem to the orders of the captain, getting as much of the sparse wind as possible. The sun shone down on an unwelcome terrain. Icy towers spanning twenty times the length of a man rose up in a sudden, subtle matter that left the viewer breathless with appreciation. Only the gods themselves could render a meaning to these otherwise fathomless monoliths. Those on board were nonplussed, the sailors accustomed to such in their travels; the captain's odd travelling companion completely apathetic, staring at the ocean but ten feet in front of him. Standing just before the bow, covered from head to toe in a heavy black cloak, the stranger. Wave after wave broke upon hull, drenching the man in a matter of seconds, but moved him not. Beneath the sodden hood, hidden from all, the stranger smiled. The strong scent of salt on his skin pleased him in a not entirely pleasant way, but pleased him nonetheless. For in a matter of moments he would be reaching the object of his deadly intent; he whom the newspapers called 'bestial boy'. Those rags, normally better for nothing else than to line litter boxes, actually wrought the truth for once. Police identification had been confirmed--he had checked--and following the right leads, had lead him here. This...child appeared to have an unhealthy fascination for animals. Disturbing fascination, rather. In the police report he had read (while the walls still drank deeply of the detective's blood), the child had beckoned towards a water cooler and had sent it flying into his examiner. From there he quickly escaped using other 'watery' methods of evasion. More smiles for the stranger; this should prove interesting. Oh, the kid's control over the aquatic wasnt anything special. His supposed parentage however...the son of a god? More hype, too likely. However, the fact that his sex life would be drawn towards animals, and more specifically sea animals, was of a particular interest. Why, the greek gods of mention had slept with anything on two, four...six legs...maybe his lead would draw something of worth, and not another sociopath with an avid interest in little beasties. Stealing away from that line of thought he realised they had arrived. He arrived, rather. Unfortunately, the crew had to be disposed of. Dropping his cowl, he turned to greet the approaching captain and about half a dozen of his crew. Their eyes bulged, mouths agape; their temperatures dropping a thousand degrees. Mute, the captain just stared, feeling the pit of his stomache fall a few inches, to settle uneasily on what felt like his knees. What stood before them, tossing off its soaked cloak, seemed more appropriate in a distant nightmare. Eyes like razors, flaying them alive with sadistic glee. A face better suited to the dead; skin pale bordering on alabaster white. With waves of dark hair falling about its shoulders, it was truly beautiful; pert mouth opened to reveal teeth filed to points: The devil hath a lovely face. A thought shared by the crew and their captain: Is this how I'm going to die? Sudden pain dropped all of the crew; Those in the rigging falling down bonelessly to the deck below. A feeling like liquid fire burning them from the inside out had them screaming; lava traversing the capillary course set out before it. Screams turned to bubbly moans and soon even that was impossible. First one, and then another member of the crew burst into flames, though they were little more than corpses by then. A gust of wind from father north carried the scent of burning fat away to the south. Turning, the stranger parted company with his companions, dropping from the side of the ship to the ice below with surety of his footing. Smiling, knowing he was watched, he turned one last look back on the ship that had housed him for better part of a week. Sneering suddenly, he turned back and marched off towards where his opponent no doubt waited for him. They always were; like a cancer on the frothy surface of reality, his work was always looked down upon. And for some reason, some of his latest projects (well, at the time they were their own person and conscience, though he believed all was his to do with as he willed) sensed him as he approached. Of course it didn't matter in the slightest. He would exert his force over this one, as he had countless others. What is, shall be redone, forever more amen. The wind built up to a tremondous force, seeking to batter the dark force that crossed the icy lands. His clothing inky black, staining the snow with its presence if not its touch. His skin unfeeling, numb and dead with the wind's efforts, nonetheless seemed buffered against the cold that battered him. Obdurate and unfeeling, his stony exterior matched and contrasted with his feverish need to meet and defeat his opponent. Laughing at this sudden intensity, this battle rage that filled him, he quickened his step. Five minutes later he was able to see a figure in the distance, looking off in the opposite direction. Smirking, he sped up, blotting out all else. A moment later, or so it seemed, he was twenty feet from his opponent's undefended back. Clearly amused, looking about quickly for some of his opponent's latest lovers, he cleared his throat loudly and said in a sing-song voice: 'Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste. I’ve been around for a long, long year, Stole many a man’s soul and faith'. Smiling at his witticism, he withdrew two pistols and began to shoot at his opponent's legs, seeking to disable him. Round after round sought his opponents legs, speeding out in enormous speed. Unloading both clips in seconds as his automatics pounded out bullets at an unimaginable rate, he released said clips, seeing them fall to the ground out of the corner of his eye as he reloaded with ghostly speed. At his side, his sword began to pulse in a sulky manner. Its owner, meanwhile, was busy entertaining the Rolling Stones in his head. 'Please allow me to introduce myself I’m a man of wealth and taste I’ve been around for a long, long year Stole many a man’s soul and faith And I was ’round when jesus christ Had his moment of doubt and pain Made damn sure that pilate Washed his hands and sealed his fate Pleased to meet you Hope you guess my name But what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game I stuck around st. petersburg When I saw it was a time for a change Killed the czar and his ministers Anastasia screamed in vain I rode a tank Held a general’s rank When the blitzkrieg raged And the bodies stank Pleased to meet you Hope you guess my name, oh yeah Ah, what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game, oh yeah I watched with glee While your kings and queens Fought for ten decades For the gods they made I shouted out, Who killed the kennedys? When after all It was you and me Let me please introduce myself I’m a man of wealth and taste And I laid traps for troubadours Who get killed before they reached bombay Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah But what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah But what’s confusing you Is just the nature of my game Just as every cop is a criminal And all the sinners saints As heads is tails Just call me lucifer ’cause I’m in need of some restraint So if you meet me Have some courtesy Have some sympathy, and some taste Use all your well-learned politesse Or I’ll lay your soul to waste, um yeah Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name, um yeah But what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game, um mean it, get down' (Last edited by Kale on 07-20-05 08:43 PM) |
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