Post by weareanarchy on Sept 5, 2016 21:12:21 GMT -5
(This is an RP to fill in for BONES if such is allowed.)
In the darkness, something darker still slithers. There is a skirling/piping/mind-draining, madness-inducing whine that echoes across the empty space. Something amorphous and black uncoils in the darkness…the eyes of a sane man witnessing such a spectacle might close. The mind of a sane man witnessing such a spectacle might begin to yammer and shut down leaving its owner a drooling vegetable, but kindly sparing him or her the vision that would forever fill their mind with madness ad fear. Some grace this blind piper at the Universe’s center with the name Azathoth…most merely know it as the thing that devours their sanity and their soul. However, the eyes witnessing it were the eyes of a man who had been raised to witness it. The mind of this man had been bred to such horrors and found them commonplace.
There was a burning expanse of whiteness, almost painful to look at, but if not for the whiteness, the beauty of the darkness would be unbroken and thus, less beautiful. In another pit of darkest black, something of indeterminate color moved in the darkness. There were multiple eyes and something suggesting the trunk of a tree with stubby pads for legs. Giant snakes or eels contorting and convoluting into shapes that caused sanity itself to twist and spin sprouted from the top of the trunk. Mouths everywhere called out in sounds that were spoken in sibilant silence. The word those mouths spoke was nonsense…’Yog-Sothoth!’ To others, this image of darkness and terror would be horrifying if not insanity inducing and yet, to the eyes viewing it, this image was as comforting as mother, as kind as a loving hand touching a crying baby and bringing it to joy. To him, it was what he had been raised with.
Another gulf of reviled whiteness separated the two pits from a third, longer pit. That pit was full of moving darkness but within that darkness a deeper midnight formed an ancient city whose geometry did not agree with the Physics of Euclid or any who came after him. The city was habited by dholes and Innsmouth folk and a susurrus of dark consonants called out in a rhythm that entertained him but would drive the hardiest of minds mad the phrase, ‘Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn’ echoed again and again. Of course, in English that phrase meant simply, ‘In his house at R’lyeh, Dead Cthulhu lies dreaming.’ Most who heard that phrase, it presaged their death He had grown up with it like a nursery rhyme.
And if one were to rapidly pull backward to see the whole thing, the image resolved itself into the mask of Lunacy who loudly cried, ‘Serve me’. While the Jackdaw, he was incapable of making or producing human words, his soul cried out My Life for You over and over and over again. The Jackdaw was the shadow of lunacy, both the madness and the man…he savored the pain of others and he spoke only with his fists, with his kicking feet and striking knees and elbows, his biting teeth, his fingers, his knives and his loathing.
Jackdaw wrapped his hands around his knees as he rocked back and forth watching Lunacy sleep.
LUNACY: We have watched Alexa Black and her Darkness run roughshod over the PCW. Her only sin is one in which she agrees to play by the rules of your game to hurt you. However, her hurt remains pure. She exists for the joy of destruction, the pleasure of causing pain and the hatred of others. It seems the height of rudeness, then to leave her undermanned as she trusts her dark brother to get her back. As he was scheduled to face me in my debut and while he showed up to the ring, his heart, his soul were nowhere to be found. We considered making him our first sacrifice, but found Nathan Saniti so much more fitting for the role. So it seems so uncouth to merely let our friends feel the sting when their only sin is trusting family so blindly.
The Jackdaw manages to yank her eye free without over bloodying her face. He touches the rents and tears he caused freeing her eyes. He seems bemusedly happy. Still holding her face with one hand, he raises his free hand to her other eye and begins to dig at her face trying to remove the other orb. He ignores the lightning as it lights the scene once more or the torrential downpour as he digs for his prize.
LUNACY: We have watched as Seromine grows into powers much like our own. We watch as he embraces the disenfranchised in much the way we do. If we disagree about anything, it is the nature of Truth…but we certainly both agree that what you brainless masses and sheep call the Truth is nothing of the sort. What you call real is only like the scum on the surface of a pond and you all seem unable to fathom that there is something more than the surface…something deeper, something darker and you fools have reduced yourselves to the level of children whistling past a graveyard.
The Jackdaw now has her other eye free. He sits the eyes down on the ground, carefully upon a fallen headstone. Now he opens her mouth and reaches in grasping and yanking on something he has found there. There is a sound like heavy cloth ripping a few stitches at a time. Lunacy’s voice continues to narrate as she tugs on her new prize.
LUNACY: Frankly, it seems rude in the highest to leave Seromine and Alexa to their fate if only because they have chosen unwisely in a single ally. So, I offer a replacement to your bones…one who is skilled in Picking said Bones and while he does not speak in a language of humans, his native tongue is violence and he speaks it most eloquently…and if I tell him to, he will speak it on your behalf.
Furthermore, those who run this company thought they could buy me off with a paltry title. That is like attempting to buy off Satan with a few trinkets. He has no need of what you offer and your soul is still forfeit. I have no need of the title you have offered us like a sacrificial lamb, and we have disposed of it like the garbage it is. So, since this company has already engaged us in warfare, they should be prepared when we retaliate. I can see no better way to retaliate than to allow my Jackdaw to have a shot at hurting a few of the folks the fans love to cheer for so we can expose them for being the shameless glory hounds that they are. We can expose their masks of heroism as frauds as we tear them down as PCW watches. In short, consider this another shot fired in our war with the company.
The camera cuts to Lunacy standing by the cemetary gate. The Jackdaw pops up behind him carrying two eyes, one tongue and a gray brain…all human. Lunacy looks at the collection and slaps them out of Jackdaw’s hand.
LUNACY: No, you’ll spoil your appetite…besides you know I hate it when you eat junk food!
In the darkness, something darker still slithers. There is a skirling/piping/mind-draining, madness-inducing whine that echoes across the empty space. Something amorphous and black uncoils in the darkness…the eyes of a sane man witnessing such a spectacle might close. The mind of a sane man witnessing such a spectacle might begin to yammer and shut down leaving its owner a drooling vegetable, but kindly sparing him or her the vision that would forever fill their mind with madness ad fear. Some grace this blind piper at the Universe’s center with the name Azathoth…most merely know it as the thing that devours their sanity and their soul. However, the eyes witnessing it were the eyes of a man who had been raised to witness it. The mind of this man had been bred to such horrors and found them commonplace.
There was a burning expanse of whiteness, almost painful to look at, but if not for the whiteness, the beauty of the darkness would be unbroken and thus, less beautiful. In another pit of darkest black, something of indeterminate color moved in the darkness. There were multiple eyes and something suggesting the trunk of a tree with stubby pads for legs. Giant snakes or eels contorting and convoluting into shapes that caused sanity itself to twist and spin sprouted from the top of the trunk. Mouths everywhere called out in sounds that were spoken in sibilant silence. The word those mouths spoke was nonsense…’Yog-Sothoth!’ To others, this image of darkness and terror would be horrifying if not insanity inducing and yet, to the eyes viewing it, this image was as comforting as mother, as kind as a loving hand touching a crying baby and bringing it to joy. To him, it was what he had been raised with.
Another gulf of reviled whiteness separated the two pits from a third, longer pit. That pit was full of moving darkness but within that darkness a deeper midnight formed an ancient city whose geometry did not agree with the Physics of Euclid or any who came after him. The city was habited by dholes and Innsmouth folk and a susurrus of dark consonants called out in a rhythm that entertained him but would drive the hardiest of minds mad the phrase, ‘Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn’ echoed again and again. Of course, in English that phrase meant simply, ‘In his house at R’lyeh, Dead Cthulhu lies dreaming.’ Most who heard that phrase, it presaged their death He had grown up with it like a nursery rhyme.
And if one were to rapidly pull backward to see the whole thing, the image resolved itself into the mask of Lunacy who loudly cried, ‘Serve me’. While the Jackdaw, he was incapable of making or producing human words, his soul cried out My Life for You over and over and over again. The Jackdaw was the shadow of lunacy, both the madness and the man…he savored the pain of others and he spoke only with his fists, with his kicking feet and striking knees and elbows, his biting teeth, his fingers, his knives and his loathing.
Jackdaw wrapped his hands around his knees as he rocked back and forth watching Lunacy sleep.
The Jackdaw Rises
The Jackdaw lovingly strokes the face of a dead woman. Lightning flashes overhead as the creature known as the Jackdaw grips her face sternly and with his free hand caresses her cheek…raises his fingers to her right eye and carefully and slowly begins to work his way through her flesh with his fingers, working to free and extract her glazed blue eye. As he digs at her once beautiful face, Lunacy speaks, his voice overlaying the scene.LUNACY: We have watched Alexa Black and her Darkness run roughshod over the PCW. Her only sin is one in which she agrees to play by the rules of your game to hurt you. However, her hurt remains pure. She exists for the joy of destruction, the pleasure of causing pain and the hatred of others. It seems the height of rudeness, then to leave her undermanned as she trusts her dark brother to get her back. As he was scheduled to face me in my debut and while he showed up to the ring, his heart, his soul were nowhere to be found. We considered making him our first sacrifice, but found Nathan Saniti so much more fitting for the role. So it seems so uncouth to merely let our friends feel the sting when their only sin is trusting family so blindly.
The Jackdaw manages to yank her eye free without over bloodying her face. He touches the rents and tears he caused freeing her eyes. He seems bemusedly happy. Still holding her face with one hand, he raises his free hand to her other eye and begins to dig at her face trying to remove the other orb. He ignores the lightning as it lights the scene once more or the torrential downpour as he digs for his prize.
LUNACY: We have watched as Seromine grows into powers much like our own. We watch as he embraces the disenfranchised in much the way we do. If we disagree about anything, it is the nature of Truth…but we certainly both agree that what you brainless masses and sheep call the Truth is nothing of the sort. What you call real is only like the scum on the surface of a pond and you all seem unable to fathom that there is something more than the surface…something deeper, something darker and you fools have reduced yourselves to the level of children whistling past a graveyard.
The Jackdaw now has her other eye free. He sits the eyes down on the ground, carefully upon a fallen headstone. Now he opens her mouth and reaches in grasping and yanking on something he has found there. There is a sound like heavy cloth ripping a few stitches at a time. Lunacy’s voice continues to narrate as she tugs on her new prize.
LUNACY: Frankly, it seems rude in the highest to leave Seromine and Alexa to their fate if only because they have chosen unwisely in a single ally. So, I offer a replacement to your bones…one who is skilled in Picking said Bones and while he does not speak in a language of humans, his native tongue is violence and he speaks it most eloquently…and if I tell him to, he will speak it on your behalf.
Furthermore, those who run this company thought they could buy me off with a paltry title. That is like attempting to buy off Satan with a few trinkets. He has no need of what you offer and your soul is still forfeit. I have no need of the title you have offered us like a sacrificial lamb, and we have disposed of it like the garbage it is. So, since this company has already engaged us in warfare, they should be prepared when we retaliate. I can see no better way to retaliate than to allow my Jackdaw to have a shot at hurting a few of the folks the fans love to cheer for so we can expose them for being the shameless glory hounds that they are. We can expose their masks of heroism as frauds as we tear them down as PCW watches. In short, consider this another shot fired in our war with the company.
The camera cuts to Lunacy standing by the cemetary gate. The Jackdaw pops up behind him carrying two eyes, one tongue and a gray brain…all human. Lunacy looks at the collection and slaps them out of Jackdaw’s hand.
LUNACY: No, you’ll spoil your appetite…besides you know I hate it when you eat junk food!