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Interested. Possibly dropping a gunlugger up in here.
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# ¿ Feb 16, 2015 05:52 |
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# ¿ Apr 29, 2024 18:06 |
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Foka, the Hocus You smell it, the smell of rotten meat, the flashes of words and words and words and words and words and names and names and numbers. The sound of bells and bones and boxes and boars and bloody hell get this loving racket out of my head. You can see it, the plateau that this used to be stretched thin over the crooked concrete teeth that pierce the gum of this illusion and cause fountains of regret to gush forth like blood. For just a second you can almost see it. For just a second you can almost see it... For just a second you can almost see it past the walking wight glowing so white past the hallway. For just a second you almost forget that this happens every drat day, that this haunts you every drat day and will haunt you until you take that gun or that ice pick and just jam it to where all those people can't follow you, all those dreams can't claw at your chest and make you wonder if living is even worth it anymore if all it does is end up like this. And then it's gone. And then you really start to wonder why the gently caress you drank that last bit of vodka a few minutes ago and not now. Foka is a bastard. He always was, always will be until the day someone takes a swing at his head hard enough to make him forget who he is in the first place, and probably not even then. Doesn't really matter though, when you're from around Ixma you're lucky to be just a bastard. Hell, he's lucky he's not insane at this rate. Ever since he can remember, he's got linked directly to the hosed Up poo poo Upstairs, the grand cosmic joke that caused humanity to shoot itself in the collective foot. Every day he's haunted, little patchwork collections of whatever poor beings he has come across whispering in his ear, reminding him of how they used to live, or how they used to mock living. Makes a man surly as poo poo, I'll tell ya. At least he knows enough about it to tell others how to handle it, even if only for a second or two. It's about the only thing that's kept him alive most days, and not strung out for the useless waste of food he really is. Doesn't help that now he's wizened up and gotten himself his own portable mob. Hell, after all those times he got an entire town on his rear end, you'd think he'd have found one sooner. Or rather, you'd think one had found him sooner. But now we have to deal with the lot of them. Whatever The gently caress God Is Now, help us all. quote:Cool=0 Hard+1 Hot-1 Sharp+1 Weird+2 quote:Followers Members of Foka's "Scene" Tank Girl Feisty little poo poo. First person to tag along with me in the first place that didn't just die off like a fly. I never did catch her real name, never thought to ask. I might've heard it once, but I was too busy holding onto the fickle bitch of consciousness to really pay much attention, and she didn't quite seem to like it anyways. Got me in and out of more scraps than I'd care to admit or be a part of, but hell, she's a good girl. To be honest, I like her a lot. Sometimes I even get all soft and wish I could sit down and have a chat with her, get to know her better. Like figure out what the hell is the deal with that arm of hers that she lost. Said she had to eat it herself, but I can tell that's bullshit. Didn't bother asking her the real reason. Figure she'll tell me in her own time. Bone-Carver This lady scares me. I think the fact that her name is "Bone-Carver" ought to be an apt enough description. ------ Residents of Xeniaburg Nikita Normally I don't take kindly to "artistes"; usually they're just assholes with a little extra crazy and a whole lot of delusion of grandeur to do bloody anything with. This guy though, this guy isn't half bad. Doesn't hurt that he passed a joint my way the first time I stumbled across him, and saw how good he was with a barber's razor the second time. Some dumb bastard made him slip a little, got a nasty gash on my face because of it, but hell, you should see the other guy now. drat, but he's cold with that razor. Makes me almost want him to join up. Nah, he's far too comfortable here as it is. Besides, he's been tamed by the place, kept his nose clean of the hosed Up poo poo, and it's kept him sane enough to keep his ear to the ground. "Father Grey" ...YOU!!! You absolute FUCKER!!! You are supposed to be dead. I should know, I bloody saw you get shanked myself! But here you are again, after having found another hole to crawl into and fester with your petulant, manipulative, corrupting maggot-infested horseshit. Oh don't worry, I see you pretending like you don't know me, pretending like you don't loving remember what you did to that one town past the Twins. Sure, keep up that good Devout Orthodox act, just don't be surprised if I get the whole bloody apartment to burn you at the stake when it comes to Round 2...you loving owe me that much.
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# ¿ Feb 17, 2015 18:31 |
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Sorry about that y'all, school kicked my rear end for a minute. Foka Do you have any idea how many times I've seen towns and shacks just like you lot? After the hundredth time I've seen another potential town to tar and feather my rear end, your head starts to get fuzzy and blurry, and you start to count your lucky loving lovely star pieces that the town doesn't know who you are. Thing is, I don't quite know who from who, who the wolves among the sheep are so to speak. Shut it, I just got out of being wasted last week. So, tell me, who the gently caress are you lot to me? (Okay, so if for whatever ungodly reason your characters want to be Foka's followers, it's Hx+2. Otherwise, Hx=0 for everybody!)
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# ¿ Feb 20, 2015 06:44 |