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Post by Kyzer on Dec 23, 2014 4:38:12 GMT -5
This is a courtesy warning that my rp is slightly vulgar in areas and has a vulgar title. Shawn suggested not posting it as the name of the rp itself so my rp will be in the next post.
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Post by Kyzer on Dec 23, 2014 4:39:04 GMT -5
Bukkake Party The cry reaches out and echoes bouncing off the walls. He comes to a dead stop in the inch deep water that covered the floor of the tunnel. There is a mugginess that makes his breathing heavy. The smell of mold fills his nostrils, but it shouldn’t come as a shocker. He is in a sewer tunnel. He should be thankful he doesn’t smell the stench of something worse. He moves in the direction of the cry. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, not metaphorically. Another cry pierces the air and sends a shiver down his spine. He takes off sprinting.
“Nnnnnnnoooooooo……….”
He runs faster, if that is possible. The light is bright, and is only getting brighter. He can feel his heart pounding harder and harder. He can’t tell if it is from the anxiety or the fact he is working harder than when he is f~cking. Either reason is about to send him into cardiac arrest. He reaches the light not a moment too soon. He breaks into the light and finds himself out of the sewer sauna. He comes to an immediate stop. He is in shock; he is in a f~cking nightmare.
“Relevé! On the balls of your feet! You dance like you have pig hooves!”
He stands on a precipice overlooking what he an open cavern. The air smells of sulfur and astroglide. His eyes grow big as he looks down at what lies before him. It is what he always imagined Hell looking like. Some many things are going on he can barely digest the scene.
“How am I supposed to be the world’s greatest ballet Choreographer if you f~cking midgets can’t do the most basic of moves? You are ruining my dreams!”
A blond, dirty looking man stands on a raised platform before a herd of worn, broken down, crack midgets. His face is etched with disgust as he looks down at this corps de ballet of little people. The Choreographer spits at them as he raises his arm and with it the cat of nine tails he is holding. He brings it down with such forces that when it strikes the closest little person it takes a layer of skin off with it. His yarmulke nearly falls from his head as strikes another midget in his anger. The rest of the midgets immediately scatter in all directions. The Choreographer hops off his platform to give chase to the herd. From on the precipice he recognizes the blond Jew…
“Schneider?”
He quickly realizes that this must be hell. Something else quickly catches his eye. His face turns to disgust as he recognizes two guys, Jayson Garrett and Chase Landon. Both are wearing leather ass-less chaps with complimentary leather domination accessories. Beside them stands some fat guy in a gimp suit, let’s call him Dave Demento. It isn’t the sight of these two leather bound fairies that shocks him; it is what they are doing. Chase and Gimp-Dave are cheering Garrett on as he has a gagged and bound man bent over a pommel horse. The two pederasts watch on as he is sodomizing who is now recognized as Shawn Malakai…
“What the f~ck?”
Unfortunately for Malakai there is no Butch with a katana to help him out. He takes a step back in equals parts horror and disgust. He looks around to see what other horrors are awaiting him. Numerous terrible things taking place everywhere. Penny Shannon is subjecting unfortunate souls to a horrible punishment of having to watch the WNBA while Shannon finger bangs herself in front of them. Somewhere else, the condemned being forced to have conversations with the always boring Josh Dean. His sweet, disgusting wife stands by talking with whomever about her emotional baggage and make-believe happiness. It is worse than a trashy Julia Roberts movie. Eat, Pray, Blow it out my d~ckhole.
“I am going to vomit…”
He caught the scent of Nikki’s nostril burning odor. Suddenly a horn blows from one of the cavern. Everything and everyone stops. He looks in the direction of the sound and sees a giant stone building he didn’t notice before. It is windowless and pretty much featureless with the exception that it has a huge balcony that extends over the cavern floor. All the disgusting monstrosities that populate the cavern gather around the building with their eyes on the balcony. Something suddenly comes flying out of the building and over the balcony towards the crowd. They scatter out of the way from the boulder sized object. Unfortunately a few midgets get crushed.
“…what…how…”
The words barely escape his lips as he immediately recognizes the head of Tugarin Zmey.
“I have slayed The Dragon!”
He catches sight of the voice’s face and can feel his stomach turn.
“Drakz…of course, he is the Devil.”
There stands Drakz in all of his douchebaggerish ways. Little horns that have penises for points protrude from his head. He might as well be decked head to toe with either Ed Hardy or Affliction, take your pick both are only worn by pieces of sh~t. He stands at the edge of the balcony overlooking the masses before him.
“After slaying The Dragon, I offer a sacrifice in my honor!”
Two braziers erupt with fire behind him. The lemmings cower at the eruption of the columns of fire. Drakz turns and grabs something and presents his offering. He gets closer to the edge of the precipice to see what Drakz has held above his head.
“I present my offering to myself!”
He falls backwards as he realizes who it is. Drakz grabs something and wraps it around the neck of a little bald man. The little man looks up at the smiling Devil with defiance until the end. He spits at Drakz but it comes back and hits him in the face. Drakz only laughs as he grabs the little man with one hand, launching him over the balcony. A wire is around his neck; about halfway to the ground the wire goes taut. Cheers erupt at the swaying dead midget.
“…”
He opens his mouth but is completely speechless now. It is like he just watched his own death. He just stares at Drakz who is basking in the glory. It is then he notices something behind Drakz, someone standing near one of the braziers. He can’t quite make out who it is, but he feels the person staring intently at him. It is as if there are eyes stripping his layers away and piercing through his soul. The he catches something…blue eyes…piercing blue eyes….
Wake up.
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DMK: Something is off in the air. I can’t say what exactly but I just have this feeling that something isn’t right. I had the same feeling the night The New Epoch died. I have to say I am a little worried.
He looks down at the nice, neat little lines of cocaine laid out in front of him. A rolled up dollar sits next to them, everything in front of him is just chanting...
“Drugs…drugs…do many drugs…drugs…drugs…do many drugs…”
DMK: Those two assclowns, Landon and Garrett, aren’t a factor. My worries are beyond them. Between The Dragon and The Satanist, they will put down like diseased dogs. I should be going to this with my head held high and a grin on my face.
“Drugs, do drugs, escape…”
He continues to stare at the lines without partaking.
DMK: This is the path I wanted right? Then why do I have this sick feeling crawling up my spine. I can’t shake it. Have I been given the gift of premonition like Alyssa Milano? I don’t like this.
“Snort me…shoot me…smoke me…”
DMK: The KKK Army, my baby, is on the rise. The Dragon will begin building his horde. The Satanist will keep doing the shady sh~t that Satanist do. The Army will grow larger.
He dips his fingertip into the end of one of the lines and brings it to his lips. Instantly they go numb.
“Yes…it is good…so very good…do more drugs…”
DMK: But still…I am thinking too much on this.
“Yes…give in…snort me…SNORT ME…”
He picks up the dollar. He should feel like he is on top of the world, but he doesn’t. Something has implanted itself in the back of his head. It is like a cancer that is slowly growing and spreading doubt and worry. Those are two things that DMK has never had in his life until now. Ever since he bound Zmey to him, something has changed. In both him and Zmey something has changed.
“I will make it all better…”
DMK: I made the right decision.
DMK puts the dollar to his nose and makes a line disappear.
“Good boy…You are a good boy…”
DMK: I am on the right path.
Another line disappears. DMK leans back to let the euphoria wash over him.
“Everything is alright…I am here…”
DMK: F~ck this self-doubt. I need to put this out of my head. I need to remain focused on reality not something I am just imagining.
He bends over the table and snorts two more lines. He puts the dollar down as all his nice neat lines are gone.
“We will crush your enemies…no one can stand against us…”
DMK: First I will crash the world down on those two pussies. Then I will direct Zmey to systematically eliminate any rivals. He chop everyone off at the knees so that I can look them in the eyes while I wishing them farewell. We are going to kill everyone. It will be a massacre of the weak.
“The lambs will cry…”
DMK: It doesn’t matter who it is. I am sure they will line themselves up though. I don’t think I have made many friends so far.
He smiles at the last comment. His eyes are fixed on the drugless table while he speaks. It is like he is lost in another world.
“You are safe…”
DMK: Jayson Garrett…I am interested in seeing how deep his vanity goes. Will he still love himself when his flesh is burned away? Will he be able to face the world after he is exposed as nothing but a pretty face? Maybe with a sliver of luck, The Dragon will just leave him as a scarred up grotesque monster instead of just killing him outright. I guess that just depends on how nice I am the day of The Clash.
“We are not nice…We are monsters…We eat the flesh of the animals…”
DMK: Chase Landon…I grew up among the freak shows of Seattle, land of the ‘unique’. He is the new age serial killer, the outcast mental midget who decides to shoot a school. It started with his idols in trench coats and evolved to opening fire on elementary schools and second tier colleges. The world will just thank me when he gets put down. He is nothing but proof that some kids should be drowned in the bathtub at infancy to just save the world the grief. The Dragon will do what his parents failed to do when they didn’t abort him.
“We can burn the world down together…”
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He sent me to find her. He gave me the path to find her and then released me. The Little Master told me it was him giving me peace of mind. I realized his motivation but I couldn’t deny stirring I felt in my heart when he said ‘Now we go get your Delilah.’ I had skepticism in my head about all of this. I am not foolish enough to outright believe something with such low odds at being true.
I also killed the emotional part of me a long time ago. I am not excited about the idea of resurrecting it. But I go anyways.
What else can I do?
The journey takes me to across the United States to Boca Raton, Florida. This only adds to my doubt. I don’t understand the connection here and Delilah. This doesn’t make any sense. The directions lead me through the world of the wealthy here. As I follow them, I process everything in an effort to better understand this.
The Hun gave DMK this information. Was The Hun trying to set him up?
Regardless if I am walking into a trap, I am not going to stray from the course set before me.
That course has me on a collision course with a lot of people it seems. DMK hasn’t endeared himself to many people. And I am the one who will take care of the people who want to make uproar about it. It is my purpose, one that Samael fails to understand.
His insistence to delve deeper into my head is a futile task. I understand the game better than he does. I don’t need to know the exact motivation but I can see the deceit in his eyes. He wants to play a game and use me as his pawn. Does he realize that he will have to play on the same board as DMK? He plays only for blood too.
It isn’t my place to try and change his course. He will walk his path with us until he crosses that line, then he will understand my role in The Army.
Cohesion. Teamwork. Chemistry.
Those words, Ryan has spoken them as has Samael. They mean nothing to mean. They look at me as if I am just another person. I am not just the next average guy on the street.
I am a walking death machine.
I am an instrument of war.
I am a Mongolian Death Worm.
I used to bring destruction in a focused manner. Those words aren’t going to crush our foes, they aren’t going to get in the ring and pick apart our enemies. Maybe I don’t understand because this is a new world to me. But I think I have proven to anyone out there that I follow the will of DMK explicitly. He wants me to team up with Samael and beat whoever they put in front us. I am going to do that. All this other stuff is just unnecessary.
Between Ryan, Samael and DMK something is going to implode. Each one has their own personal motivations. DMK is the most upfront. Samael has espoused some of his motivations but there are some he is keeping close to the vest. Ryan is the slickest one of all. Playing both sides for his own reasons. DMK doesn’t see it, Samael doesn’t either. So many egos, so many conflicting desires and wants. Everything is building to an explosion.
One of the benefits of being dead on the inside, I will walk out of this regardless and move on to the next master.
The streets are going to be littered with bodies. Garrett, Landon and anyone else that walks into this massacre will have to prove they are capable of standing up against a monster like me. If they can’t then they will be added to the death count. I can assure Jayson and Chase that they will be used as an example for anyone who stands in defiance to The Army.
Bloodshed, Destruction, Pain, Fear, Death. Calling it a massacre is underselling it but DMK is more of a salesman than I am
Am I about to walk into my own massacre?
I find myself in a harbor, staring at a yacht that someone probably only owns because of their vanity. I look back down at the instructions and this is where I am supposed to be. The only sound in the night is the boats rocking with the current. I walk around to find a spot to board it and notice the name.
Y.S.M. Excess
Before I can step foot on the vessel, a voice beckons my attention.
“Subutai…”
I look down the dock and see the source of the voice….
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Post by Drakz on Dec 24, 2014 17:32:41 GMT -5
First and foremost that opening scene had me banging on the desk laughing. The penis horned Drakz is the stuff of legend.
I love the way you have three different writing styles going on in this RP (new kids take note, not of trying to do all 3 in one piece, but of the fact that whilst it is the same man writing all 3 he manages to create 3 entirely different voices and emotions with ease).
I think right now your story is the one I'm enjoying the most in the WFWF. SYE is my favorite writer with regards to his language etc but your actual story is the one I want to read more of, maybe that's because I've been so invested with most of the main characters for years at this point lol.
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Post by bad guy™ on Dec 24, 2014 21:43:15 GMT -5
...Malakai bent over. "Butch with a katana." I hate you. I hope you lose. ...oh wait, that means I lose too.  . |
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Post by Kyzer on Dec 25, 2014 1:22:51 GMT -5
...Malakai bent over. "Butch with a katana." I hate you. I hope you lose. ...oh wait, that means I lose too. . Well you know, things don't always work out like they do in Pulp Fiction |
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Post by bad guy™ on Dec 25, 2014 21:36:20 GMT -5
...Malakai bent over. "Butch with a katana." I hate you. I hope you lose. ...oh wait, that means I lose too. . Well you know, things don't always work out like they do in Pulp Fiction  |
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Post by Rated R on Dec 26, 2014 13:49:22 GMT -5
Yeah I dug this a lot. Like it was a really odd piece what with the opening acid trip dream sequence and all but that's kind of my thing, I like really out there stories and I really enjoyed how the entire thing tied into the fed. Like that's an impressive bit of work considering it had a penis horned Drakz and all that. Seriously though you're consistently one of the best on the board and while that isn't news to anyone it still impresses me how effortless you make it look considering you've gone from being one of the best with one character to being one of the best with an entirely different one. Just goes to show what you can do when you can write different voices the way you can. Great job.
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Post by Drakz on Dec 26, 2014 16:26:15 GMT -5
You're still a f*cking p*ssy though.
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Post by Kyzer on Dec 26, 2014 22:30:27 GMT -5
Yeah I dug this a lot. Like it was a really odd piece what with the opening acid trip dream sequence and all but that's kind of my thing, I like really out there stories and I really enjoyed how the entire thing tied into the fed. Like that's an impressive bit of work considering it had a penis horned Drakz and all that. Seriously though you're consistently one of the best on the board and while that isn't news to anyone it still impresses me how effortless you make it look considering you've gone from being one of the best with one character to being one of the best with an entirely different one. Just goes to show what you can do when you can write different voices the way you can. Great job. It actually takes me a lot of effort because I still instinctively fall into doing things the way I did Kyzer. I want them to be different and have different styles to them. I was trying something different here. I wanted it to be more focused on the promotion instead of backstory, while still progressing that. I tried something different here after I was inspired by reading DJS's rp. I haven't done a monologue like I did in the DMK scene since I started out in e-fedding. I started doing the settingless monologue pretty early in my e-fed life and have always just stuck with it. I thought it would make sonstuds happy. As always I try to leave some suspense to it so people want to read the next one. You're still a f*cking p*ssy though. Jealously is an ugly color on you, bro. |
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Post by Drakz on Dec 27, 2014 8:03:04 GMT -5
You're still a f*cking p*ssy though. Jealously is an ugly color on you, bro. I'll have you know I look great in green. It really sets off my eyes. |
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Post by sonstuds on Dec 28, 2014 3:01:34 GMT -5
I started doing the settingless monologue pretty early in my e-fed life and have always just stuck with it. I thought it would make sonstuds happy. It is enthralling that you finally admit I was right. |
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Post by jdfranchise on Dec 30, 2014 8:02:41 GMT -5
I really dug this dude. That acid trip dream sequence was all kinds of awesome with the imagery and the fact you managed to hit on a lot of the major players in the fed. Cool sh*t.
I like how you changed pace with the DMK monologue in the old school promo style. I just like how it came across with DMK being paranoid and trying to ease it with cocaine.
The monologue at the end was also very well done. I have to be honest, the Death Machine, Weapon of Mass Destruction/ Mongolian Death Worm sequence is starting to get a bit old to me because you use it so often in these Zmey stories, but I understand why you do it due to Zmey being a mindless, but yet surprisingly observant, destroyer. That cliffhanger at the end will have me reading your next one to see what you'll do next. Drakz pointed out the three voices and three styles that you used here. Doing that as smoothly as you did is an example of why you are one of the toughest matchups here.
Good sh*t.
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