McNip's and Sarg's official test thread.

[Titty McNipples]

Țɦε 31st of Cɦiηɑ; Priest Genjo Sanzo ✗

b e a d s; ● ● ●xx
f e e l i n g; sensitive.
b o d y; alive.

http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/69152470/2413954

I'm so h i g hxu p that I can't see the ground below
☀ I never promised you a ray of light ☂




Deep amethyst attempted to flutter open when an unfamiliar (and certainly unwelcome) voice tapped into his private mind. 'Excuse me sir, but why are you naked? Can't you feel the breeze against her body? Why are you touching me? Please stop, you're hurting me.' The Priest's body language changed subtly; his sharp eyebrows knitted together, his pale lips parted slightly and his breathing increased in tempo. The words seemed out of place. He wasn't naked, was he? How embarrassing. He certainly wasn't touching someone or hurting anyone considering he could barely move. He probably should've been hurting someone though. His strategy had been off since the game had begun. The cold-hearted Priest was either putting too much trust in people, or not enough. Everyone in his group had deserted him without any remorse and left him to get slaughtered. Genjo Sanzo was the one who was supposed to do the abandoning, not the other way around. His mantra was to 'embrace nothing,' so why was he feeling so disappointed? He was here to win, not to find true love, not to raise the dead, not to make friends, just win. There were only winners and losers in the game and if he didn't win his existence would become void and all of Shangri-La would succumb to blood-thirsty demons. Humankind would become extinct. The blonde tried to open his eyes one more, but was weening in and out of consciousness once again.

A soft set of dampened (and slightly cold) lips were pressed against Sanzo's mouth. He could make out the gentle curvature of her slick lips against his own. Because Isis's lips were wet they had more definition. There was no way the Priest could disregard this as a bird or a figment of his imagination. Someone was definitely mackin' on him while he was in such terrible condition. The newly formed man's eyelids lifted to reveal his frigid, violet irises. His gaze trailed downward towards a mass of shimmering turquoise tresses. "P-please wake up sir! Please don't be die. I'm alone and wanting a friend." whined the peculiar woman who was pressed against his hard chest. His nose wrinkled up in disgust and he felt sick to his stomach. The hardheaded Priest was revolted that the first impression he had imprinted on another contestant was weakness. He was also absolutely appalled that a stranger gave half a damn about his well-being. What the ******** was her problem? "The ******** do you think I am? Snow White? Get offa me!" snarled the blonde, showing no compassion towards the Goddess who had remained loyally by his side.

A very, very faint glimmer (like a raindrop) from the corner of her eye capture his attention. His expression violently shifted from shock (wide eyes, eyebrows lifted) to a more gentle and sympathetic expression. She was crying for him, which was a very, very rare occurrence. The only person who had ever cried for Sanzo's sake was the little demon boy back home who he had rescued, taken under his wing, and of course 'be-friended' to some extent of the term. The Priest who was 'bound to nothing' would never admit that he held that boy very close to his heart. It was a dangerous move to become so attached to something that you can't bear to lose it, and already this stranger was an open book. Isis was foolishly wearing her heart out on her sleeve, but more importantly, why did Sanzo care? "I'm awake now... so calm down." the Priest hissed. "If you're looking for a 'friend,' I'm afraid to inform you that you came to the wrong place but thank you for--" 'Kissing me? Who the Hell does she think she is?' "--waking me up, I suppose." That was about as 'nice' as Genjo Sanzo was going to get considering everything he had recently gone to. His mind had strayed far from the conversation and internally he was badgering himself for being so weak.



Embrace n o t h i n g:
If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha.
If you meet your father, kill your father.
Only live your life as it is,
Not bound to anything. ♥

& I fight for:

[Titty McNipples]

Țɦε 31st of Cɦiηɑ; Priest Genjo Sanzo ✗

b e a d s; ● ● ●xx
f e e l i n g; sensitive.
b o d y; alive.

http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/69152470/2413954

I'm so h i g hxu p that I can't see the ground below
☀ I never promised you a ray of light ☂


Sanzo's disposition quickly shifted from an attempt to be pleasant to irritation. Once the woman with turquoise hair invaded his mind his mood shifted to rage. He wanted to interrupt Isis and command that she left his head this instant, but she just kept prattling on and on and on like a... like a woman. This is why the Priest didn't waste his time with most women. They were overly-emotional and destructive. Men had to be 'sensitive' to the feelings of women which is something that Genjo Sanzo was not comfortable with in the least. When responding to someone it was normal for a conversationalist to open their mouth when talking, which Sanzo quickly did to snap back at the Goddess. He wasn't very comfortable with telepathic communication as of yet. "If you wanted Prince Charming I believe you came to the wrong place! I was passed out, you kissed me and you expect me to be cool with it?! Tch. I never promised you that I'd be your little Princess." It was apparent that Isis was caught up in the story-book world. Perhaps she believed that she would plant her lips on Sanzo's, awaken him with a kiss, he'd smile and proclaim, 'Isis... you're beautiful.' and they'd ride off together on a gallant white steed. Regardless of the time of the day, the sun would also be setting and a crisp breeze would gently toss Sanzo's bands away from his face while he leaned in to grant her true love's kiss. Yeah. Not happening. Never in Sanzo's lifetime would he ever resort to being that 'romantic.'

The beautiful (and horrendously annoying) Goddess stood up and in turn Sanzo shuffled into a standing position as well. Isis continued to badger him in his mind which was nagging to an extreme extent. Because of her constant chatter he couldn't even think straight. 'Shut... up!' In inwardly roared in the midst of her short paused before rolling his eyes and smoothing out the seams in his robe. If only she was a demon instead of a whatever the ******** she was. He would've shot her by now. Oh I'm sorry, were you talking to me? I'm sorry you feel ungrateful for my resuce and you spit upon me? How dare you ask for my name, yet you don't even dare to speak yours, Genjo. You would think that you should have known me you ungrateful human. His nose wrinkled in disgust. He didn't have to divulge his name, since she was already aware of it. Sanzo wasn't threatened by this since 'Genjo Sanzo' was merely a title. If this woman was truly something to fear she would've addressed him as 'Kouryuu.' Perhaps Kouryuu the river rat, or Kouryuu of the River's Flow, it didn't matter. Either way, Kouryuu was his true identity and the name he carried until his master died. Only people from the Priest's corrupt past were aware of his true name, and if they knew it then they probably knew too much.

Yeah that's right, I went there. What are you going to do about it? You b*****d. Jeez and to think you were MY hero. Ha. Now I can laugh at that. The Priest had nothing to say, but his private thoughts weren't safe from Isis's telepathy. It was becoming really annoying. 'Hero? The ******** do you mean by that? I'm nobody's hero.' He wasn't angry about this, just a little shocked. The words 'my hero' were enough to get a rise out of the stone-hearted Priest. Nothing about him was mildly heroic. Sanzo smoked like a chimney, drank on occasion, swore, and shot at and struck his 'friends' with a paper fan. Even the fact that he was on a mission of save the world of Shangri-La was built on a strong foundation of 'I don't really want to do it, I'm being force to' Sanzo hadn't realized that his furious glare had softened, but once he noticed his facial expression had shifted, he turned it right back. The woman had covered her left half of her face and her short dress was swirling around her body as if she was performing a strange ritual. Amethyst eyes rolled once again and mentally he stated, 'Why me?' At this point he could've won an award for most enemies. It seemed everyone he met thus far wanted him dead. ********' awesome. Real great. He immediately pushed the blame off on someone else and blamed Isis for everything. If she hadn't kissed him none of this bullshit would've happened. She blindly set herself up for disappointment and was now using her female rage to feud with someone who could've honestly cared less.

Isis slowly began to close some of the distance between he and her. "But if you must know, I'm the one that haunts you're memory. I am the curse of men fall for and most of them do wish they'd love me? Don't you love me, Genjo? No? I didn't think so?" One of his sharp eyebrows perked up while her hand reached out towards him and dropped down. She was so cryptic... but why? His current thought was a harsh (although sympathetic), 'What's wrong with her?'' Clearly, something peculiar was up with Isis. Normal women don't act like this when disappointed or brushed off, the Priest realized. Or... he assumed. Had Sanzo really done something horribly wrong or was his only mistake not being Isis's 'hero?' Perhaps that's all the Godess wanted? Someone perfect and fabricated to give her everything she craved. Love? Attention? Friendship? All that happy-sappy crap Sanzo didn't have? The Priest almost wished he was 'perfect,' but quickly decided against it. He was perfect once. He used to be a perfect little boy with a perfect little face and little fluttery heart full of affection for the world-- the world who destroyed him. Sanzo had potential to be an angel, but the world took his perfection away. Was it Sanzo who killed his master? No. Was it Sanzo who made the demons go crazy? No. Was it Sanzo who decided to become a Priest. No. As the Priest stated once before (to a man who felt as though his 'wonderful and beloved Master Sanzo' had rejected him... long story there,) 'it just sorta happened that way.'

The Priest's deep eyes were captured by a raincloud that was forming dangerously close above his head. When his attention returned to Isis he noticed her bright blow eyes shift up to the cloud. One of his blonde eyebrows lifted skeptically before rain began pouring down. His eyes narrowed and he gave her a typical 'oh, I hate you so much right now' kind of look. "... I've always hated men like you. Blah blah. You're just afraid. Blah blah, bullshit." Or that's what Sanzo heard. His clean, white robes were getting soaked and began to cling to the clothes he wore underneath (which were also getting soaked.) His sleek, black spandex top shrunk up and began clinging to his muscles like a second layer of skin. The same could be said for the shiny spandex gloves that covered the majority of his arms. His amethyst eyes remained focused on the Goddess, glaring, while tuning out her endless string of speech. That is, until something she said captured his attention. "But, sir, if you must know my name, I will give it to you. For I am the one who has never been loved and has lived in the Game for years. I am known as Isis." 'Lived in the Game for years?' Well that sure explained a Hell of a lot. Sanzo would be desperate for social interaction if he was locked up in this shithole too. He couldn't blame Isis for her behavior. She wasn't incompetent, just ignorant. His angry glare was close to fleeting away, but he was still pretty irritated that it was raining on him. It was so typical of Sanzo to have a raincloud over his head at all times, but usually that cloud was figurative. Why was it raining on just him? This should've been impossible. ********.

"Okay, I'm going to be honest with you and if you don't like it, you can take your raincloud and get lost." He calmly stated while taking a step back, raincloud following. Awesome. "I, unlike yourself, don't like in a fake world. You set yourself up for disappointment here. Not me. I'm sorry my personality is too abrasive for you to handle and you can go ahead and hate me if you want, it doesn't matter to me, but you don't have to rain on my head. Honestly, I can't even begin to fathom what the Hell you want. You might be a mind-reader, but I'm not. Get used to it, because not many people are." This secret little line of text is only to break my string of dialogue. Psh, you won't even notice it. "I suppose you ran into the wrong person. I'm sure there are plenty of others out her who love rainy days and being harassed, but I'm not one of them. Hell, if you live here why don't you just create a perfect person, since it's obvious to me that that's what you want. You're stuck in a fantasy world and unless you were looking for a real person, then I guess you should go elsewhere. Ride off on a ******** unicorn for all I care." Sanzo hadn't intended on sounding harsh, but he believed he knew exactly what he was talking about. Isis lived in a story-book, all alone and probably was unaware that real people are ******** up and friendship doesn't magically sprout from forced interaction. It takes time and patience. A lot of patience.

"Sanzo!" chimed a familiar voice approaching him. He turned his attention towards a happy-faced pink-haired friend (or close enough.) The first look he gave Jacqueline was a sharp glare because he was still harboring a lot of anger, but soon enough, his expression softened. The trees and scenery began to take on a soft lavender hue, like he was looking at the world through purple tinted glasses. He would've mentioned the change in scenery color if this was the first time it's happened. He's seen pink and yellow before, so why not purple? "You're not looking so hot." His lips curled up into a misplaced smile. If Jacqueline could pinpoint the emotion in his eyes she might be able to assume that he was internally laughing (something he hasn't externally done in God knows how long.) His eyes scanned down his soaked clothes and then returned to Jac's golden-orange orbs. "Yeah, I guess I'm not..." he blatantly stated (but for some strange reason, sounded like teasing) while the raincloud overhead continued to drench him with gallons and gallons of water. Sanzo was perfectly aware that he must've been quite a sight to see. He probably looked like a drowned rat. When the familiar face of Lumina entered the scene the Priest shot her a 'welcome glare' and turned his attention back to Jacqueline. "You know her?" Ugh, wasn't it obvious?

His purple down-turned eyes narrowed on Jacqueline's and he hadn't noticed that he eased closer towards her, thus closing the empty and lonely gap between them. "Anyways... I figured I was never going to see you again." Sanzo's expression shifted into something that could be considered a 'sensual smirk.' --wait, what? He figuratively peeled the sultry look away from his face, balled it up like a used tissue and tossed it over his shoulder. 'Hm... weird. Maybe I should... distance myself or something.' The celibate Priest pondered before taking a casual step backwards (with his raincloud, of course.) He could admit to himself that he missed Jacqueline, and maybe--just maybe-- he was happy to see her... but there was no reason to be this happy. This made him angry. Or atleast, he pretended he was so she would disregard his strange behavior. As pecuiliar as it was, he couldn't think of any angry words to say so he merely scoffed, "tch." and turned his attention towards a very interesting... tree. He was so horrendously obvious, and the worst part was, he didn't know what he was being obvious about. Sanzo felt like he was acting sketchy... like he was hiding something, but he wasn't. [******** my day.'



Embrace n o t h i n g:
If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha.
If you meet your father, kill your father.
Only live your life as it is,
Not bound to anything. ♥

& I fight for:

http://r.undev.org/?r=238545

[Titty McNipples]

http://r.undev.org/?r=77028

↘↘↘ τoӄi ωɑrtootɧxx♥
The cutesy guy? ******** that!
I'm gonna be a DEMON.


I hates everythings.
Includings my dad,
and also myself.
Why is everything's so hards for Toki?

INNER CHILD TIED AND BEATEN IN MY TRUNK

lives; ●●●


So there Toki was just minding his own business and looking up at the clouds in the sky. Now that he wasn't mindlessly playing his video games, he could appreciate the beauty of nature. His childish nature was becoming more and more apparent while he announced the shapes of the clouds overhead. "Thats one looks like yous Deddy." he whimpered to the Teddy Bear that was crammed in his pocket. The Norwegian's voice could easily grate on a person's nerves and drive them into insanity. Toki's voice wasn't always high-pitched but any member or Dethklok would be lying if they said it didn't have a tendency to oscillate. The rhythm guitarist vocals usually raised in pitch when he was excited, playful or attempting to 'be cute.' A prime example of 'being cute' would be a trademark, 'I no means it... was accident cause was nots my fault...' after making a mistake that would more than likely claim the lives of dozens of fans. Teary, widened blue eyes and pouty lips completed an innocent puppy-dog expression and as usual, Toki was let off with a soft slap on the wrists. It was good to be cutesy sometimes, but not as good as it was to be a billionaire. When you're rich you can buy all the candy you want! Hell, when you're a metal band the candy tries to buy you! Not only was Toki Wartooth the second fastest guitarist in the world, rhythm guitarist for the single largest entertainment act in the universe, a million-billionaire, but he also had an endorsement deal for Willard Wonky Candy-Hand Candy. Wowee! Too bad that sugar-s**t gave him diabetes.

A cheery grin streaked across the man's tanned face. "That one ams looks like Nathans... and dat one looks like Dr. Rockso." Strange how he saw the faces of those he loved in the shapeless white blobs that filled the sky. Each cloud looked exactly the same, but that didn't stop Toki from naming them after his bandmates. He straightened his back against the boat and pointed to an especially lumpy cloud in the East. "That one's ams Murderface!" he stated as if taking to a friend sitting right next to him. His icy blue eyes scanned the sky and he pointed to another oddly shaped cloud, "Pickles!" He paused for a short moment before glaring at a radiant cloud that screamed 'I ams the bests cloud outs here.' Hmmph. Arrogant b*****d cloud... just like, "Skwisgaar. ******** you Skwisgaar cloud! Yous not making rainings on my parades today!" Skwisgaar was the lead guitarist in the band and was the sole reason why fans forgot that Toki played guitar too. It was always always about dumb, stupid Skwisgaar... Never about Toki. Whenever Toki needed a mental day the other members of the band would say something like, "Hey. Toki's acting really strange lately. Let's kick him out." but never Skwisgaar. Every time it was time for Toki to record his tracks for the album Skwisgaar would always suggest turning the guitar down or replacing it with a track of his own. "I cans play just as fasts as you Skwisgaar. ...Jealous." the guitarist huffed. That's it. Everyone was just jealous.

"Hey! a*****e!" Pale blue eyes blinked a couple times before he turned his attention upwards. Whomever was talking to him sounded like a boy with a voice that was much deeper than his. When Toki's gaze fell on a cutesy looking little girl he was nothing less than surprised. He would've suspected that she was a drag-queen or a 'man-lady' if she didn't look so girly. The young woman had big green eyes, long lashes and auburn hair that was pinned away from her cute face with a multitude of hairclips. Her cheeks were rosy, her shoulders were delicate and her V-neck was close to revealing what very well may have been boobies. His eyes squinted slightly and locked in on her chest. Flat as a board... Kanna lacked the most magical of all creations. 'No boobies... maybe she's not a goil.' he pondered. "You wanna not? I already got a headache and hearing your vocals first thing in the morning isn't helping." The childish man's eyebrows lifted and pulled together and he appeared as though he was going to cry at any given moment. "I'm not one for first impressions and I'm pretty sure shoving that guitar up your a** sideways doesn't count for 'oh, what a charming fellow.'" The Nordic man's lips formed a sad pout when he whimpered, "Ams sorry... was accidents. I thought da ships was empties... didn'ts know..."

Toki Wartooth hung his head in shame, but from the corner of his eye his saw another mythical creature approaching. He turned his head and inhaled sharply. His light blue eyes widened and jaw hung agape when the fuzzy creature stepped out into the light. He... he could talk too?! Toki's loving little heart skipped a beat or two before he blurted, "Oh woweeeeee! Whats the hecks are you?!" he screeched before excitably bouncing up into a standing position. Unfortunately, his shoulder strap snagged onto something protruding from the boat, chunk of wood, nail, or maybe he just imagined it, either way he was sent back towards the ground and landed hard on his butt... which hurt a considerable amount.
"...Owwies..." whined the guitarist while arching his back in hissing in pain. "I thinks I broked my butt-bone! Oww oww oww....!!" Truth was, he didn't break anything. He might get a little bruise around his tailbone, but as of right now Toki was vastly over-exaggerating his 'agony.' Perhaps it was karma for being so rude to the cute... fuzzy... "--what's the heck ares you? A cat or somet'ings?" the Norwegian started up again even though he was still in pain.

A distinctly 'Metal' woman encroached on the scene as well. Toki would've been very, very happy to see more people if only they would stop patronizing him and yelling at him for no reason. The male was feeling guilty for stupid things like talking and naming clouds and being alive. "Wartooth? Toki Wartooth?" she asked. The man cocked his head to the side curiously. He figured that nobody in this strange world would every recognize him. A part of him hoped that nobody would notice him and he could experience what it was like to be a regular old jack-off, and another part of him wondered if he even could be recognized. Toki Wartooth was never a 'front-man' or a 'solo-guy,' and was actually a little timid in large crowds. Perhaps she'd seen his Myspace page? Ugh, she looked vaguely familiar which made Toki ashamed. He talked to so many fans on MySpace, but unfortunately, they were all blurs to him. He had a horrible memory when it came to all the fans. So many names, so many faces and none of them were important unless they had money or lifted their shirts up in an attempt to crawl backstage and be part of Dethklok's post-show ritual that involved paintbrushes and lots of non-toxic (sometimes edible) body paint. Skwisgaar's crowd usually involved fbl's and gmilfs (full-bodied ladies and 'grandmothers I'd like to ********) and often times Toki was saddled with girls who'd draw little smiley faces on chest and attempt to coax him into sex so they could have a Dethklok baby and attempt to get him to pay thousands in child support. Toki didn't like that at all. He didn't want to have sex to be considered 'cool' to his bandmates, and he didn't, but that was his secret. If the band knew that they'd try to hook him up with some nameless whore.

Now, why was this woman so familiar? Rebekka looked vaguely familiar to the German whore who had tried on numerous occasions to extract Nathan's baby-gravy... except she looked better. She was prettier. The hot ones were always the crazy ones. --and the ugly ones too! Maybe this woman was once a back-stage groupie for the band. It wouldn't hurt to ask. "Uhhhhm... You looks familiars. Haves you ever drawn anything on me? Naked? Was I drunk?"


✁ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SEWN TOGETHER WRONG
I feels so okay and a little lonely insides...
but on the outsides I am unharmed.


As a boy; As a man.
if I hates it so much,
why does it makes me so sad?
and if I holds yous too close,
will you dies in my hands?

[Titty McNipples]

♥ ᾞ ɑ κ ϑ ʀ y ϑ ♥

bead count: ● ● ●
mood: hopeful.
condition: in a cage.

The quest for the secret of ages
The quest for the secret of old
It's not written in history pages
And only the wiser have told

The young dragon's attention remained focused on solely Lucien while he paced around the cage as if examining it. He whimpered softly and clutched the bars when the vaguely familiar stranger turned down his desperate request for a bead. "...Kyuu..." whined Hakuryu while his golden eyes lowered towards the other male's feet. His soft gaze trailed up the other man's body. While doing this the draconian male made a peculiar discovery. No beads. "Do yuu even have beads, Mister?" The dragon hadn't seen any visible beads on Lucien's person and figured that he didn't have any, which was strange. Everyone Hakuryu had met so far had a set of beads on their wrists or around their necks, but not Lucien. The confused dragon was now beginning to doubt the power of Drosselmeyer and his so called 'beads of life.' If he lost his last one would he really-really die or just wake up from this nightmare? As much as the dragon wanted to test his brilliant theory, he didn't have the courage to put his very existence on the line. Perhaps it would be best to try and stay safe... especially considering the little fact that dying hurts.

Lucien was apparently not as cold-hearted as Hakuryu originally suspected. Without being asked to he approached the lock and broke it with ease. Oh, and he did it with a smile too! The young dragon was very happy to counter Lucien's smile with an overly-enthusiastic grin of his own. "Thankyuu!" he chirped while pushing the barred door open. Freedom! --or, almost. The dragon's legs hadn't been wedged between the bars of the door, but the body of the cage meaning he was just a little bit stuck. He attempted to dislodged one of his legs from in between two cold bars, but it proved to be too difficult. Very, very gracefully he decided that he would take the legs out last and... well, to make a long story short he fell out of the cage backward and landed (legs included) down on the grass below. For a short, peaceful moment he gazed up at the sky longingly and wondered how far he would be able to fly until he couldn't fly any more. "...That hurt..." he finally admitted before rolling over and standing on tired, weak legs that hadn't moved for hours and hours.

Without thinking too much about it Hakuryu flounced over towards his savior and hugged his arm tightly. Even if the other man tried to pull away he was latched on tight. It would break the dragon's little heart if his new friend were to walk away and desert him like so many others have already done. While clutching Lucien's arm he watched the other man while he spoke. These two knew each other? Perhaps this meant Hakuryu had acquired two friends instead of just one. This other man seemed very intelligent and used smart words when he spoke. For the most part, the dragon was confused. "I'd assume you believe that only the strongest will survive right? That those who can't kill in the blink of an eye are going to be thrown aside so that the titans can play... Is this your's?" A familiar pieces of jewelry was held out in the palm of the intellectual's hand. "Kyuu! I almost forgot about that! How embarrassing!" The draconian abandoned his grip on Lucien and bounced over towards Tandero to claim what he had traded for when this silly game started. Without a moment's delay he returned the circlet to its rightful position on his head. It fit perfectly, like it was made for him. He clapped his hands together cheerfully and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet while exclaiming, "Thankyuu! If I forgot about this I don't know what I'd do!"

The dragon's joy was only influenced by the watered-down yellow that was dripping down onto the scenery. A moment ago he was bordering depression, but Lucien quickly put a stop to that. How kind of him! He hadn't returned faithfully to his savior's side because both of these new friends had been so generous as to help him. It would be unfair of Hakuryu to abandoned his new redheaded pal. His round golden eyes trailed from Tandero, over to Lucien, and back to Tandero. Heh. They weren't acting too friendly. Strange. The dragon was beginning to wonder if they were secretly enemies... that is, until Tandero divulged that he was going to give the other man a nickname. A nickname!? How fun! "Kyuuuu... no fair! I want a nickname too!" Hakuryu playfully demanded before stating, "I think we should call himmmmm...." He scanned Lucien up and down a few times. Nothing about this man was particularly eye-catching besides his hair. Well, his clothes were very eye-catching but the dragon knew that 'crazy belts' would be a really dumb nickname. "--Two-Tone!" he finally blurted. It was wonderful, it was beautiful, and it was fitting!





They lived a life of brutalityxx
they'll die with their broadsword in handxx
For the gift of immortalityxx
Lies there in the dragon's bloodxx

[Titty McNipples]

↘↘↘ τoӄi ωɑrtootɧxx♥
The cutesy guy? ******** that!
I'm gonna be a DEMON.


xxxxxxI hates everythings.
xxxxxxIncludings my dad,
xxxxxxand also myself.
xxxxxxWhy is everything's so hards for Toki?

INNER CHILD TIED AND BEATEN IN MY TRUNK

lives; ●●●

"Bekka..." softly echoed the young man. That was her name, and he was going to try and remember it this time. When Rebekka thrust out her palm for a proper handshake Toki stared at it blankly like he had never seen a hand before in his lifetime. It wasn't very often that he 'shook hands' with someone as a greeting. Even the rich and classy didn't expect proper behavior from Dethklok. He cocked his head to the side and allowed his pale blue eyes to trail up the woman's arm and lock in on the expression of her face. The smile on her features looked so natural and pleasant. The teeth that were revealed weren't stained by coffee, or decayed or worn away by blood puke (good song title, by the way.) Rebekka's teeth were 'just fine.' It was apparent that she had seen a dentist, much unlike Toki who had lost several teeth due to excessive candy consumption. His lips pursed into a pout before he admitted, "I don'ts gots a pen, I think..." Epic fail! A dirty, unwashed hand dipped into the pocket where Deddy Bear was crammed. Fortunately enough, there was a mini-sharpie underneath the stuffed animal. Miniature sharpies were a rock star's best friend. "--Oh, waits! Yes, I dos!" he chirped before grabbing her wrist lightly to keep her hand steady. "Toki.... Wartooth..." he said aloud while scrawling his name on the palm of her hand in sloppy penmanship. Once his name was written out he admired his work and tucked the sharpie back into his pocket. "Dere you gos! An autographs fors you from Toki!"

Epic fail.

Once his name was scrawled on the woman's hand he smiled a goofy grin like a sweet, blameless child would've done. Even though he had misinterpreted Rebekka's meaning it would be difficult (and downright heartless) to admonish him now. His icy blue eyes followed his fan-- or so he was led to believe she was-- to where she picked up a pretty guitar. The body of Bekka's electric guitar had the same shape as Skwisgaar's. Everything Toki saw reminded him of dumb, stupid Skwisgaar... it was like a disease. Competition within the same band wasn't healthy. An entertained grin crossed the Scandinavian's lips while he watched her play a short collection of quick notes. Free-styling! Wonderful! The Dethklok guitarist pulled his Gibson guitar onto his lap and countered her string of notes with a shortened riff from the Duncan Hills Coffee jingle. [ref- 46-58 seconds] The guitar solo from the jingle actually belonged to the lead guitarist (which can not be stressed enough) but Toki was perfectly capable of playing it almost as well, just not as fast. Unfortunately, if poor Toki ever attempted to play it in concert Skwisgaar would probably pull the amp plug from his guitar out. Again. A solo performance from the rhythm guitarist was a very, very rare sight. "You knows, Bekka... Nathans is 'single' now. I could put in a good word for you and yous coulds probably be his girl's friends if you want and hangs around Mordhaus and plays Dance Dance Revolutions wis me. The rhythm guitarist had conveniently forgotten that Nathan really-really hated it when the other bandmates tried to be buddies with his dates. "Or I could gets you a nice T-shirt wis 'EXPLODE ME' written right across da tits that'd makes all your friends say 'wowee!'"

Toki's attention was captured by the shift in Kanna's voice as oppose to the content of what she was saying. He hadn't been paying attention like he should've been. ...Oh no. His icy eyes shifted from the fuzzy, black and red talking cat and then upwards towards Kanna. Had this fight started because of him? "No! No mores fightings!" he demanded in a raised voice before shooting into a standing position. "Oww... owww..." his hissed in pain. His a** was still a little sore, but that was nothing that time wouldn't be able to heal. "Ams sorry I caused this." He shot the black Hedgehog a pleading look. "Ams my faults. Not hers. She's just not morning's type person. It's cool." His short attention span was soon captured by movement. The young woman had stretched her arms upward and opened her mouth wide to yawn. "I'm sorry guys... I'm not really a morning person. I... sleepwalk. --and talk, so please excuse anything you heard me say. It was probably all just a bunch of sleepy mumbo jumbo." ...Sleep-talk? That was it! Very rudely he pointed at Kanna before declaring, "See?! Sleep-talking! All is-- chicken?" Curse you, short attention span! He pointed out the chicken stationed in the crow's nest high above the ship. "...ams hungry. Anyone's has a pistol?" Toki wasn't very good at shooting, but he was very experienced with guns. Especially pistols. Stealing Murderface's (he's the bassist) car for a joyride would've been half as much fun if Toki hadn't been shooting out the window. It also would've been much less fun if Toki actually knew how to drive. ;D


✁ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SEWN TOGETHER WRONG
I feels so curious and hungry insides...
but on the outsides my butt hurts [ <-<; ].


As a boy; As a man.
if I hates it so much,
why does it makes me so sad?
and if I holds yous too close,
will you dies in my hands?

[Titty McNipples]

ᾏӄirɑ ᾞɑruto
xxx tɧe bliηdiηɡ liɡɧt!
▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃

The Number One Princess in the World
xx Know to treat me that way by heart, okay?
xxxxx Baby... ☂

Akira's proud body language had changed drastically since the conversation had started. Instead of standing tall with his shoulders thrust back and chest out he relaxed, like Eliza wasn't worth the effort. His legs were shoulder's-length apart, one hand was on his hip and the other hand was lifted so he could admire his own flawless cuticles. 'I should think about becoming a hand model...' he contemplated during Eliza's short, dramatic pause. When the woman-creature began to cast insult again Akira's attention trailed away from his impeccable hand. "You know I saw a man dressed like you once. In the circus, a clown I think." His eyebrows furrowed together and he growled softly, evidence that the almighty Akira Haruto had been displeased. Eliza... dumb cow. This would be the last time he attempted to start a pleasant conversation with a dumb broad like her. It was no wonder that she was the only woman on this team. There it was again. A very faint recollection of butterfly wings and sky blue hair streaked through the man's mind and made his heart ache. "What am I forgetting... It's going to drive me crazy." for a short moment he contemplated asking Eliza if she knew anything about butterflies, but decided against it. She was a dumb whore after all. The beautiful redhead probably couldn't be bothered with things like simple calculations and big words. Akira Haruto was a lucky one to be blessed with captivating beauty and high intelligence. He was perfect. ♥

"I'll have you know that you've just lost yourself a very worthy adversary. If you and I have to stand off against a dragon or twelve Griffins or... some other whimsical bullshit... you're not going to have my protection. Nope." Some Knight Akira was. He was created to protect humans and failed greatly. "--Oh! And then you'll probably die! Die and everyone will forget you ever existed, although I doubt you've left much of a footprint on this miserable world anyhow. You'll die, lose your wish and I'll be ever so much closer to victory! If I were you I'd try to be a little friendlier, because I highly highly doubt you'll make it far all on your lonesome! You need me." Although he was attempting to make a point to the dumb broad, he was also trying to convince himself that he was the key to her survival The narcissist liked to make himself believe that he was far more important than he was in actuality. Everyone was supposed to love him, give him constant attention, need him and easily submit to his demands. If Akira's fanbase didn't follow orders attentively, then they would all surely die. Speaking of fanbase, the blonde was beginning to wonder about Riot. Actually he was beginning to wonder about all of these saps. Tandero was out and about it seemed, but what if that wasn't the case? What if he had gotten bored of Akira and fled? What if sweet, darling Tandy found another man? Would this mean that Akira was stuck babysitting the whore, the rainbow and Kurai? "Oh God..." Just the thought of that alone was enough to drill horrible imagery in Akira's mind.

Akira was content to carry on and on about how he was wonderful and Eliza was wretchedly weak and unable to protect herself. Well, he would've been, until she did the inevitable. Eliza located and performed a simple act that was capable of driving Akira absolutely insane. It was one of his biggest pet peeves and was ten times worse than any insult she could've tossed at him. Eliza ignored him, gave a look of boredom, turned around and walked away. Let me repeat this in case you're not taking the same journey as Akira is. Eliza hadn't paid attention to him while he was talking. She ignored him. She finally returned his gaze with a facial expression that conveyed boredom. She turned around... and she walked away. She walked away. Walked away. Eliza walked away. She turned her body around and proceeded to go elsewhere. The man was in absolute awe, and the look on his face made it apparent. He couldn't believe she had done something like that. Nobody walks away from Akira... or, nobody should walk away from Akira and live to tell the tale. He was furious! The man held his hands out in front of his face and cupped them as if holding an invisible basketball. Golden blonde tresses splayed out and lifted upwards while energy was focused towards the center of the empty space he contained in his palms. Lines of electricity flowing from his palms and fingers fueled a small orb that soon grew to the size of a baseball. The energy orb was capable of consuming an entire city if Akira forced every ounce of his energy into it, but growing an orb to that size would take hours and hours.

He bounced the small sparking 'baseball' in the palm of his hand a few times. A sly smirk was stretching across his jagged features. A little voice in Akira's mind began to nag 'don't do it! be the bigger man' but the blonde paid no attention to him. It was rare that he listened to his conscience... poor fellow was neglected. "Batter up..." Akira half-whispered before craning his arm and sending the ball of electricity whizzing towards Pretty Miss Eliza's pretty little pornstar head. Unfortunately, the blonde was never a 'sports guy.' When it came to running, swimming, jumping or throwing, he was far from the best. The energy-ball ended up missing the back of the woman's head and flew past her ear instead. On its way past her it shot off sparks that would've landed in her hair if they had any direction at all. The miniature flares may have hit her nose, landed inside her ear canal or bounced off her shoulder. Electricity was always very difficult to control, but fortunately, Akira was immune to his own power. "s**t." Immediately the man started making another glowing orb. A bigger one. One that wouldn't miss. A normal person would've given up by now, but not Akira. He was a little on the twisted side and stubborn as a mule; a horrible combination. Even though the blonde had given himself away by missing his target, he wasn't going to be satisfied until Eliza was... well, he didn't quite know what he was getting at with this. He just wanted some attention.



♥ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ light and electricity ▃ ▃ ▃ ▃ ↙


For every word I speak I expect ʒ words in reply.
Realize that keeping me waiting is out of the question.
I'm the Number One Princess in the World. ♥✗✗✗


[mood; grr.] [beads; ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ] [condition; IM A FIRIN MAH LAZER.]

[Titty McNipples]

✗✗✗

Ӄɑηηɑ → Јɑɱεs
【♥♥ ♥ 】
i feel... curious ;; curious
i am... awake. ;; alive.

This type of thing's just axf a n t a s y
The story is laid out soxw r e t c h e d l y

But gradually
It's dawning on me
This isn't like in a d r e a m
This is for real.

▬ʃoʋε?▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ♥

Kanna's bright green eyes remained locked on Toki and a smug smirk trailed across her lips while she waited for him to do something that could be considered instigating. A simple wave of the hand could be taken in the wrong context. James could explode the guitarist's head with ease in the palm of his vectors and nobody would suspect a thing. They would run and scramble in fear like chickens with their heads cut off and James would feign fear and cry using Kanna's frail little voice. Who would be able to trace a dear, sweet and innocent little girl to the crime? Nobody! --that's who. An invisible arm shot out pf the top of Kanna's pretty little head and made a beeline for Toki's face but was cut short, intangible fingers splayed out a mere few inches from the man's nose. "Tch..." The young woman's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, "...Damn it." How unfortunate for James. His invisible arms were far too short to do any damage from this distance. The being who resided inside the young woman felt a twinge of shame pulse through his form, as if he were being secretly judged on the length of his vectors. The expression on the young woman's face softened as James's arm retracted back to the center of her core.

From the corner of his eye he could a young woman approaching and kept his focus on her instead of the other who was coming into frame. He would've never noticed the black hedgehog if he hadn't opened his mouth. A deep, smooth voice-- belonging to a man-- captured the 'ghost's' attention since a man was considered to be a bigger threat than a woman. His attention violently shifted over to Shadow whom was being focused on with an intense glare. Voices were coming in left and right, giving input here and there. The young woman was clearly distressed because of this and was progressively becoming tenser. Green eyes bounced from Shadow, to Rebekka, to Toki, to Rebekka and back to Shadow in that order. A soft growl was contained behind white teeth. "I don't believe I asked for an audience." James snarled, allowing his voice to meld with Kanna's and adopt her vocals. "Perhaps if you weren't on the rag, maybe you wouldn't have decided to be such a b***h in the morning. Take a Midol, will ya?" The young woman's features took on an expression of utter disgust. "The 'rag?'" she echoed in horror before adding an immature, "Ewwwww...." to the end of his inquiry. "Don't assume. I hate it when people do that. For the record, I'm not on the rag so you'd best be getting your facts straight." Men always blamed the foul moods of women on their times of the month, but was it so unheard of that a woman could just be a b***h for no reason? Why were men allowed to be foul whenever they pleased, no questions asked? 'I ******** hate men.'

The longer that James looked at Shadow, the angrier he got. Fuzzy or not, that creature was a man. A smug and conceited man at that. Small fragile hands balled up into tight fists that wouldn't even be able to dent softened butter. 'Poor, sweet Kanna... You're too weak for your own good. Once I win this game you won't have to worry about trusting people any more. All you need is me.' The young woman who had been asleep in her own body regained consciousness and peered out at the world from her eyes which had been commandeered by Big Brother. Everyone down below was looking at her like she had done something wrong, which could only mean, 'Big Brother? What are you talking about? Leave them alone and give me my body back... puhleeeeease?' James grit his teeth and begrudgingly returned the body to its rightful owner. 'I'd rather observe anyway. Maybe they know something I don't.' he huffed before drifting over the edge of the ship like vapor and cascading downwards. His invisible feet stopped on the ground and permit him to fall any further. He could borrow knowledge from any of these three strangers and probe their memory, but which one would be of any use to him and his dear Sister? Rebekka could play guitar, as could Toki, but what use were skills like that? Kanna had never shown interest in playing guitar in the past.

Kanna feigned a yawn and stretched her arms up over her head as far as they would go. "Oh boy, could I use a cup of coffee..." she mumbled, insinuating that she had been tired. "I'm sorry guys... I'm not really a morning person. I... sleepwalk. --and talk, so please excuse anything you heard me say. It was probably all just a bunch of sleepy mumbo jumbo." Oh, she was a wretchedly brilliant liar. She turned her head around and allowed her eyes to scan the deck of the boat. Jack was right, this was a very pretty ship. The Black Pearl must've been many many years old, but was still in great condition. It was a shame that Kanna would never be able to see it set sail and-- a chicken? An eyebrow perked up quizzically. 'I thought the crows nest was for crows... not chickens. I wonder what the heck a chicken is doing here...'


♥ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ɦɑtε.▬

-

✗✗✗

[Doctor Kickass]

● ● ● Hisashijirou Takeshi ↙ ♥ ↙

Alone they stand on the hill, dueling faces on
Defending honor, swords are drawn
Neither makes the first move, circling continues
Here they stand, on and on wait these patient men

Back and forth go stares of concentration
Grips tighten around woven hilts
Stances freeze in the blood-stained dirt
One then lunges, slashes twice, and the fight begins

☀ Absolute Zero ✔


I've got 3 beads.
I'm feeling kinda ____,
and as for pain?
I'm perfectly fine.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx