Post by Karl Storm on Aug 23, 2009 23:05:30 GMT -5
Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Los-
SHUT UP!
Loser?
why are you doing this?
Isn't it obvious?
why?
For fun.
this isn't fun!
Of course it is. For me.
why-
Shut up. Stop asking. Just do as your told.
no I-
You will. You tried and failed to find this mythical better man inside. Now you're mine, just like I said you would be.
it's not ov-
It is, I'm bored of letting you drive. Now pick it up.
don't want to.
Wasn't asking. Now pick it up.
no
Look at yourself, raise your eyes and fix them on that mirror. See how wretched you look?
no
Listen to yourself, open your ears and hear what a whiny, petulant shit you've become.
I-
You're nothing. You're a puppet and now I'm cutting your fucking strings. And before you ask "why?" I'll tell you it's because His time is upon us.
not again.
Oh yes, we're his herald and the time has come to, oh I don't know, fucking herald! Now pick it up.
That's a good boy. Now while you're in an accomodating mood, go ahead and fade away.
Thanks.
hold me
What?
nothing?
Just die already!
-----------
The scene fades in to the same dimly lit room from Thursday night, Karl Storm kneels in the same position on the floor even wearing the same clothes. The only differences now are that he sways slowly from side to side in a constant, slow rythme and the Commonwealth Crown rests squarely upon his left shoulder. The camera once again circles around Storm to rest in front of him, this time it takes several moments for him to register its presence as he keeps his gaze fixed upon his open palms. Seconds run into minutes and eventually he stretches his body out languidly, his arms sweeping up to brush hair from his face as he arches his spine and lets out a soft sigh. The dim light casts ugly shadows across his face but they don't serve to hide the deep gouges that run from his ears down his cheeks and stop at the edges of his mouth, the camera flickers to his painted nails under which you can still just about make out what appears to be flecks of skin and flesh. Storm smiles wolfishly at the camera as it wanders back to his face, he resumes the earlier swaying motion and reaches up to caress one of the furrows in his flesh, pulling his jade painted fingernail away and popping it into his mouth slowly.
Mmm, delectable.
Hello FCW, I believe introductions are in order. For the better part of two months now you fine people have known me as Karl Storm--well I'm afraid new management is in, I am Zelphyn D'Athaal and I represent the interests of certain---forces, now I'm not at liberty to divulge too much just yet but I felt it only fair to warn you all that over the coming months things might get a little--strange, but I want to assure you all that everything will be okay so long as you believe in the light I'm bringing into your lives.
As long as you listen to the gospel I preach everything will be jussssst fine. As long as you obey us everything will be jussssst fine.
The camera starts to sway slightly in time with his movements and Storm's smile broadens and he beckons the camera in a little closer.
The world needs this change. I promise you all that. I promissse that you will be better off when we are in control.
And honestly does thisss look like the face of a dishonest man?
He grins even wider, an almost unnatural smile made more unerving by the gouges that stretch and contort with the twisting of his face. His swaying slows a little more and he comes closer to the camera now, wounds glistening in the weak light. His voice lowers and takes on even more of a hissing pitch.
Luminousss Robin, I jusst want to give you a special thank you. Without you? None of thiss would be possible, you should be very proud.
Next time we meet I will be sure to expressss my gratitude to you, I promisse.
He reaches out and pushes the camera backwards gently, the simple action causes the slow swaying to cease imediately and the camera shakes for a moment before returning to stillness, fixed upon his twisted grin the humour of which never makes it to his eyes.
Now if you will excusse me, I have some old aquaintances that I have to---remake.
He chuckles softly, the noise more akin to sandpaper rubbing across mahogony than any normal semblance of laughter and the camera backs away slowly before the scene cuts to complete blackness, the soft hissing noise of Storm's mirth fizzing like static in the darkness until it too is gone.
End scene.
SHUT UP!
Loser?
why are you doing this?
Isn't it obvious?
why?
For fun.
this isn't fun!
Of course it is. For me.
why-
Shut up. Stop asking. Just do as your told.
no I-
You will. You tried and failed to find this mythical better man inside. Now you're mine, just like I said you would be.
it's not ov-
It is, I'm bored of letting you drive. Now pick it up.
don't want to.
Wasn't asking. Now pick it up.
no
Look at yourself, raise your eyes and fix them on that mirror. See how wretched you look?
no
Listen to yourself, open your ears and hear what a whiny, petulant shit you've become.
I-
You're nothing. You're a puppet and now I'm cutting your fucking strings. And before you ask "why?" I'll tell you it's because His time is upon us.
not again.
Oh yes, we're his herald and the time has come to, oh I don't know, fucking herald! Now pick it up.
That's a good boy. Now while you're in an accomodating mood, go ahead and fade away.
Thanks.
hold me
What?
nothing?
Just die already!
-----------
The scene fades in to the same dimly lit room from Thursday night, Karl Storm kneels in the same position on the floor even wearing the same clothes. The only differences now are that he sways slowly from side to side in a constant, slow rythme and the Commonwealth Crown rests squarely upon his left shoulder. The camera once again circles around Storm to rest in front of him, this time it takes several moments for him to register its presence as he keeps his gaze fixed upon his open palms. Seconds run into minutes and eventually he stretches his body out languidly, his arms sweeping up to brush hair from his face as he arches his spine and lets out a soft sigh. The dim light casts ugly shadows across his face but they don't serve to hide the deep gouges that run from his ears down his cheeks and stop at the edges of his mouth, the camera flickers to his painted nails under which you can still just about make out what appears to be flecks of skin and flesh. Storm smiles wolfishly at the camera as it wanders back to his face, he resumes the earlier swaying motion and reaches up to caress one of the furrows in his flesh, pulling his jade painted fingernail away and popping it into his mouth slowly.
Mmm, delectable.
Hello FCW, I believe introductions are in order. For the better part of two months now you fine people have known me as Karl Storm--well I'm afraid new management is in, I am Zelphyn D'Athaal and I represent the interests of certain---forces, now I'm not at liberty to divulge too much just yet but I felt it only fair to warn you all that over the coming months things might get a little--strange, but I want to assure you all that everything will be okay so long as you believe in the light I'm bringing into your lives.
As long as you listen to the gospel I preach everything will be jussssst fine. As long as you obey us everything will be jussssst fine.
The camera starts to sway slightly in time with his movements and Storm's smile broadens and he beckons the camera in a little closer.
The world needs this change. I promise you all that. I promissse that you will be better off when we are in control.
And honestly does thisss look like the face of a dishonest man?
He grins even wider, an almost unnatural smile made more unerving by the gouges that stretch and contort with the twisting of his face. His swaying slows a little more and he comes closer to the camera now, wounds glistening in the weak light. His voice lowers and takes on even more of a hissing pitch.
Luminousss Robin, I jusst want to give you a special thank you. Without you? None of thiss would be possible, you should be very proud.
Next time we meet I will be sure to expressss my gratitude to you, I promisse.
He reaches out and pushes the camera backwards gently, the simple action causes the slow swaying to cease imediately and the camera shakes for a moment before returning to stillness, fixed upon his twisted grin the humour of which never makes it to his eyes.
Now if you will excusse me, I have some old aquaintances that I have to---remake.
He chuckles softly, the noise more akin to sandpaper rubbing across mahogony than any normal semblance of laughter and the camera backs away slowly before the scene cuts to complete blackness, the soft hissing noise of Storm's mirth fizzing like static in the darkness until it too is gone.
End scene.
