Pyrex_Pyrate: forum

"KARR YOU SLIMLY QUACK!! IT IS YOU!" his bellowing and guffawing could be heard through tornados passing through churches when lively enough. Financially F**ked he says?! From what I remember that was the only way we took it" "placing both brandished items upon the floor, he sort of fell into place. We could say here was where he took a seat upon the floor, but that was not so much it. *Sons a bitches bbr rb b... * kill mee..* i come with gifts, no need to rush off stranger. I've got what ailes ye' shore nuff"with a spit n a whistle. "Never figured you for the marrying type eh brother?" He nodded indicating whom he could only assume to be the Devil Herself with a grin half as wicked as that and a well worn rifle to boot. I'm sure you come to realize that eventually they're going to kill us but for now... drugs for us all.! And a tale! A tale! We must have a tale!" Glancing inquisitively... Carrying on and handing out things you almost couldn't tell he had little and less of a clue what was going on in his own day to day. This was not one of those nights. Today, he Saw.

"How long was I out?" The pile of armor asked begrudgingly., Holy hell man!" as he came alive; with a flourish a man came to be. *my friends, their friends....*A knife in one hand and a small semi automatic pistol in the other he looked towards his kin" in my sleep eh? *are trying to KILL ME* I knew it would come to this one day" backing himself into the tightest alcove present. "Last time I bring you, supplies. Umff. Alright, have at it then. Which o'ya has the bigger set"? The paranoia combined with the sleep deprivation, even given the short relief was no match for sense in this mind. Heart rate well beyond what would be considered normal in an elevated situation his breath came shallow and ragged. Eyes darting betwixt the three of them, he felt much. *everybody that I know* *kill ME?! *

At a vicinal cross street down the proverbial beaten path, one of Torn City's many castigated perambulators did.... well, just that. head on a swivel, always watching, lips constantly moving, dry but not cracked, (he mumbled to himself. in soft, undulating tones mostly, which randomly became fierce accusations as if the man could not control his own volumes {he in fact could not}) "my friends, their friends, their friends' friends are trying to kill me.... everybody that I know is trying to kill me" even in his sleep, the soliloquy played on... (when the six to seven hours a week that kept him could be found) "my friends, their friends, their friends' friends are trying to kill me.... everybody that I know is trying to kill me."

Every now and again a deafening vituperation could be heard echoing off the weather-beaten buildings. pause...listening frantically scanning the area; left, right, further left over the shoulder, spinning completely around until back facing right, looking up, and every place imaginable for those conspiring against his very existence. these cursory pauses.. (long enough for hesitance, not lack of motion) shambling further up the street towards his perceived destination.
Just ahead he could see a "Klinik",This has to be it... who else would spell....he stopped cold in his track. this time, he was still... even his head, ever the swivel, constantly back and forth searching near and far, was locked in on the ledge outside this dilapidated structure. there, a few feet off of the ground where ledge intersects structure, was an old, mangled thing staring out at him like a beacon in the night. a dented up old tin in fact! faintly poking out of the crevasse just there. there would be no mistaking it, his brother (if they were they still brothers... that war had changed people. they hadn't spoke in how long?) told him,tell tale signs to watch for if he ever came looking, (fu^%ng kill me?! you, no.. my friends...) it would be as it always was; and so it was! Fishing out his tinder box, he fumbled the lid from the top of his discovery; knowing precisely what magnificence awaited him within. "are trying to kill me.... everybody that I know is trying to kill me"

Tentatively drawing at first from the ancient Strum that had all but withered away....most likely from anticipating his arrival, he thought, quickly glaring around... for whom ever it was that kept screaming his thoughts out loud, before he could finish them... ".trying to kill me...." no time to fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way, or any other for that matter. not today. blue skies indeed, he thought. as if in defiance he inhaled sharply on the once sweet tobacco, now many years stale, before its attenuate state quelled his desire... and like that it was gone.. clarity rang true for once, as he shook off the sensation someone had managed to slink up beside him to ingurgitate his (then) most prized artifact.
seeing the sign, he squinted, took a deep breath and reached out to grasp the handle....

"Don't offer me the door, I have trouble saying no
And I don't want any more, my cup's already full. aberrant as it was, he let out a (seemingly) voracious battle cry. "NO!!!!!!" in truth? not a sound. only the peculiar back and forth he was mumbling. but he knew.. sleep has come once more. to TAKE from him...
jump back, kiss myself. pass out, piss myself. even as it occurs, he begins pouring sweat. helpless he crumbles. lying
it seems i can't help myself" in the doorway, soaked in sweat, terror and piss.
"my friends, their friends, their friends' friends are trying to kill me.... everybody that I know is trying to kill me"

"KARR YOU SLIMLY QUACK!! IT IS YOU!" his bellowing and guffawing could be heard through tornados passing through churches when lively enough. Financially F**ked he says?! From what I remember that was the only way we took it" "placing both brandished items upon the floor, he sort of fell into place. We could say here was where he took a seat upon the floor, but that was not so much it. *Sons a bitches bbr rb b... * kill mee..* i come with gifts, no need to rush off stranger. I've got what ailes ye' shore nuff"with a spit n a whistle. "Never figured you for the marrying type eh brother?" He nodded indicating whom he could only assume to be the Devil Herself with a grin half as wicked as that and a well worn rifle to boot. I'm sure you come to realize that eventually they're going to kill us but for now... drugs for us all.! And a tale! A tale! We must have a tale!" Glancing inquisitively... Carrying on and handing out things you almost couldn't tell he had little and less of a clue what was going on in his own day to day. This was not one of those nights. Today, he Saw.

"How long was I out?" The pile of armor asked begrudgingly., Holy hell man!" as he came alive; with a flourish a man came to be. *my friends, their friends....*A knife in one hand and a small semi automatic pistol in the other he looked towards his kin" in my sleep eh? *are trying to KILL ME* I knew it would come to this one day" backing himself into the tightest alcove present. "Last time I bring you, supplies. Umff. Alright, have at it then. Which o'ya has the bigger set"? The paranoia combined with the sleep deprivation, even given the short relief was no match for sense in this mind. Heart rate well beyond what would be considered normal in an elevated situation his breath came shallow and ragged. Eyes darting betwixt the three of them, he felt much. *everybody that I know* *kill ME?! *

At a vicinal cross street down the proverbial beaten path, one of Torn City's many castigated perambulators did.... well, just that. head on a swivel, always watching, lips constantly moving, dry but not cracked, (he mumbled to himself. in soft, undulating tones mostly, which randomly became fierce accusations as if the man could not control his own volumes {he in fact could not}) "my friends, their friends, their friends' friends are trying to kill me.... everybody that I know is trying to kill me" even in his sleep, the soliloquy played on... (when the six to seven hours a week that kept him could be found) "my friends, their friends, their friends' friends are trying to kill me.... everybody that I know is trying to kill me."

Every now and again a deafening vituperation could be heard echoing off the weather-beaten buildings. pause...listening frantically scanning the area; left, right, further left over the shoulder, spinning completely around until back facing right, looking up, and every place imaginable for those conspiring against his very existence. these cursory pauses.. (long enough for hesitance, not lack of motion) shambling further up the street towards his perceived destination.
Just ahead he could see a "Klinik",This has to be it... who else would spell....he stopped cold in his track. this time, he was still... even his head, ever the swivel, constantly back and forth searching near and far, was locked in on the ledge outside this dilapidated structure. there, a few feet off of the ground where ledge intersects structure, was an old, mangled thing staring out at him like a beacon in the night. a dented up old tin in fact! faintly poking out of the crevasse just there. there would be no mistaking it, his brother (if they were they still brothers... that war had changed people. they hadn't spoke in how long?) told him,tell tale signs to watch for if he ever came looking, (fu^%ng kill me?! you, no.. my friends...) it would be as it always was; and so it was! Fishing out his tinder box, he fumbled the lid from the top of his discovery; knowing precisely what magnificence awaited him within. "are trying to kill me.... everybody that I know is trying to kill me"

Tentatively drawing at first from the ancient Strum that had all but withered away....most likely from anticipating his arrival, he thought, quickly glaring around... for whom ever it was that kept screaming his thoughts out loud, before he could finish them... ".trying to kill me...." no time to fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way, or any other for that matter. not today. blue skies indeed, he thought. as if in defiance he inhaled sharply on the once sweet tobacco, now many years stale, before its attenuate state quelled his desire... and like that it was gone.. clarity rang true for once, as he shook off the sensation someone had managed to slink up beside him to ingurgitate his (then) most prized artifact.
seeing the sign, he squinted, took a deep breath and reached out to grasp the handle....

"Don't offer me the door, I have trouble saying no
And I don't want any more, my cup's already full. aberrant as it was, he let out a (seemingly) voracious battle cry. "NO!!!!!!" in truth? not a sound. only the peculiar back and forth he was mumbling. but he knew.. sleep has come once more. to TAKE from him...
jump back, kiss myself. pass out, piss myself. even as it occurs, he begins pouring sweat. helpless he crumbles. lying
it seems i can't help myself" in the doorway, soaked in sweat, terror and piss.
"my friends, their friends, their friends' friends are trying to kill me.... everybody that I know is trying to kill me"

I had to stop going to the cinema to see films after becoming emotionally involved with too many lead character roles. For instance, when Leonardo DiCaprio died.... I just about lost it! I cried so hard they eventually called local law enforcement in to escort me off of the premises. That was over 5 Years ago, and I still haven't gotten to finish watching Django: Unchained.

Recently joined, have seen nothing but support and communication skills second to none. Success is fundamentally dependent on the individuals first being successful with the entirety of the team to ensue shortly thereafter. I have no doubt the prowess the NPO as a whole, seeing what they've done inside of their lower level factions. I'm sure they've slaughtered plenty of you and lent a hand to the ones who truly needed. Soon, amongst the ranks of my fellow and superior NPO members, We shall come knocking. Be ye friend or foe? Makes no difference to me, if you're not standing with, god will sort the lot of you I presume.
- The Pyrex_Pyrate -