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Archives => Roleplay Archives => Topic started by: The Wretched Nobody on November 20, 2017, 06:14:33 am

Title: Grace's Dream House
Post by: The Wretched Nobody on November 20, 2017, 06:14:33 am
WWG Championship Battle Royale Falls count anywhere match
Wretched Nobody(c) vs Alastair Morrison vs Barney Green vs Kira Starlight vs Marshall Gates vs Michael Benjamin vs Van HeLLsing vs Derrick Trotter

Brutal’s Dream House.

My feet ghosted upon the forest floor as I flew through the darkness darting between the trees. I could feel them chasing me, the sound of my heartbeat filled my ears, adrenaline pumping like ice in my veins, my instincts screaming at me to do nothing but flee. Fear filled my body like old dead blood. This was the hunt, and I was the prey. I payed no mind to my direction, escape was the only thing that mattered.

I was vulnerable, I had never felt so fragile.
My animalistic instincts, buried deep down beneath the morals and etiquette associated with humanity, were pulsing through me like a second heartbeat - off rhythm to my heart with a much faster tempo. I was oblivious to all but the goal of getting away. 

I could not fight, I could not hide. I did not know how much longer I could keep running, I could sense them behind me, rapidly catching up to me.

There was a hot burning in my lungs ignited by every step of me running as hard as I can, the footsteps of my pursuers echoing so much that I can't tell if they are lengths or just behind me.  A fleeting blurred glimpse as I snatch a look behind shows me their flashlights search between the trees as soon as I see them I feel the sudden terror of a locked door or blank brick wall.  I suffer more with every single stride yet cowering in the darkness with my heart hammering in my ears, listening to the uneven dulled galloping of their boots drawing nearer, and nearer, and nearer - this wasn't the way I intended to die.


They had lost her about four hundred yards back thanks to the dying light fighting through the second canopy from saplings and smaller trees - dogwoods and cedars.  Avatars of the understory crash against their advances.  Sentimental shrubs and bushes, like honeysuckle and thistle gravely lash and snare these morose Lords of Burdensome Pursuit. Lastly, slowing their dauntless chase there’s the ground cover of forest herbs: weeds, wildflowers, and other things that grow quickly in spring before the deciduous trees get their leaves.  Unpredictably it laces across their marching line adding heft to every stomp.  Perspiration plunged down their cheeks from beneath a collection of tattered old caps, and police hats.  Irregular and irritated their Constant Heartbeats resonate ill fate into the air around them.

Beams of light pierce the darkness, but only so deep - her evasion can still be heard though, they know they're hot on her trail.

Having stalked many animals in these woods, They can tell you that most of them are pretty quiet. They have to be, in order to survive. The loudest thing in the woods by far is a human being. Most hunters sneak into the woods well before the animals are moving about, and they find a place to sit very, very still. We don’t walk around, because it’s nearly impossible to sneak up on game… though no one is trying to sneak up on her.

She's being hunted not just chased, a person running through the woods is easy to hear moving from a long way off, and easy to follow, too.  Unable to see more than 20 or 30 yards in any direction even as they close ground still can’t see the sky, the clouds, or the slowly peeking stars breaking into the falling night thanks to the dense forest they blitzkrieg through.


"Equanimity is the hallmark of survival. It is neither chasing, nor avoiding, but just being in the middle.  All the crepuscule timberlands see is the prey flight of feet and fleeing without cease - and behind her the predators, a Forceful Foray of Frightening Ferocity.

It really doesn't matter who lives or who dies.  The balance of nature will continue teetering long after this world has consumed the last of us… we are all less than a blink on the cosmic calendar… death belays every life ever brought into existence."


I was running as fast as I could going full-tilt through a dense forest. If I only had the big tree trunks to worry about, I’d be fine. It’s the understory that’s the problem the dense, shoulder high thickets are almost impossible to traverse quickly but I have no choice. And that patch of evergreens, might slow me but if they try and follow they can just forget it. They’re hard to even walk through, because they can grow so closely together with branches that hang almost to the ground.

Running at top speed is also pretty much begging for a broken ankle I need to do something.  God Help Me Please!


"Survival is her only means of victory… Victory that not only Must, but absolutely certainly Will come at All costs - her victory will be in spite of all terror, in her victory however long and hard the road may be; Must be achieved for without victory, there is no survival…

Holes, stumps, and fallen logs all lurk beneath a deceptively placid layer of fallen leaves who seem blooming but to deluge their advance.  And as the night falls ever deeper one pair at a time their stampede loses feet.  But the remainder gain ground on her.  Her fate seems imminent… I think we all know, God isn't going to help her.

The very roots of the grove grabbled at their feet dragging them down into the soil.  One by one they felt the painful rush of musky dank earth pushing onto their necks - briars and vines muffle their pleas and weave themselves over the arms and flashlights which are all too quickly gone from sight.

Fear caused them to exclaim laments briefly. But not even the faintest of response can be heard. In a split second…. she had won.  She had escaped them… and that's because I want her all to myself. And once She is safe They will be added to The Wraiths of Equity Orchard..."

We open on the new Hoffman Journal stage - as the man himself, Lance Hoffman stands at his podium with a simper smile on his face.

/Lance Hoffman\
Welcome to - The Hoffman Journal.  Good evening and Thank you for joining me Ladies, and Gentlemen. I am of course your host; Lance Hoffman. It is so nice to be back on WWGtv and tonight I will be your guide through the unbelievable cinematic blockbuster, the vehicle that has proven so much more of a climactic rise for our very own Wretched Nobody!  This film has propelled him into the heart of Mainstream Media.

When we first met what many thought to be the shattered remnants of a man, no one would have thought Nobody would have been the one to break through and expand his celebrity status, but with Wraiths of Equity Orchard grossing $630,521,666 and being nominated for Best Special Effects, Best Cinematography, Best Picture and Best Adapted Screenplay - for his role in Wraiths of Equity Orchard, The Wretched Nobody has been nominated for Best Actor in a Leading Role.  The world learned what WWG has already known for a long time…. The Wretched Nobody is absolutely horrifying.

But with the WWG’s restart on the horizon, it seems that ghosts of our past are coming back to haunt us… WWG Brace Yourselves!  The Dark Star… The Devourer of Gods…. The Face of All Deepest Fear - is Definitely making his return and as always his companion with whom he is hand in hand to the edge of Oblivion… Grace Brutal will be coming back with him.

The stage lights flicker around Lance - and just as quickly they go out for a moment - we can hear Lance’s breaths grow more shallow the fearful tension that suffocates with a bitter cold.

Stage Tech: Hey Lance, it’s looking like it was an actual lighting issue this time… False Alarm.

The lights come back on and Lance is stand with his eyes clenched tightly - He musters the strength to open them and he begins to grow more confident again.

/Lance Hoffman\
I got Really scared there for a minute… that’s totally his thing - lights go out and as soon as they come back on it’s a brain shot with some big heart stopping craziness.  You almost come to expect it but you’re never really okay with it, you know?

Stage Tech: No idea what the **** you’re talking about Lance.

/Lance Hoffman\
I just mean, he’s actually scary and creepy - and he is Really, Really Violent.

Stage Tech: You’re losing it Hoffman… wake up, princess Mommy wants to know she has your attention…

Hoffman squinting at the big lights of the stage Tech area, the spotlight that blinds him begins to shake back and forth.  From it’s edges - from the darkness at the brink of the beam an angry wake of vultures fly towards Lance, beaks gaping in unholy hunger and as flock is about to hit him it instead is the crisp slap in the face that would bring him back to reality… the morbid, terrifying reality that he wasn’t in the studio anymore.

==In the stillness of your presence, you can feel your own formless and timeless reality as the unmanifested life that animates your physical form. You can then feel the same life deep within every other human and every other creature. You look beyond the veil of form and separation. This is the realization of oneness. This is love… this is what it feels like to embrace the Most Pitch of Blacks… the most crowded of lonely Darkness… This and this alone is the feeling often described when some hapless, helpless soul finds itself in the presence of…. The Wretched Nobody.==

As clarity and reality Porter Wagoner’s, "The Rubber Room" twanging tinny through the broken speaker of the dilapidated radio that seems barely held together by the tape wrapped around corner muffling the sound as it rattles the broken speaker shroud.

::Grace Brutal::Good morning you Luke warm glass of sewage water!  Momma Missed You!  And I’m certain that you All missed my tight, perfectly mounded ass too!

/Lance Hoffman\
Where…. where am I?  How did we get here?  I was… I was in the studio, wasn’t I?

==Human spirit is the ability to face the uncertainty of the future with curiosity and optimism. It is the belief that problems can be solved, differences resolved. It is a type of confidence. And it is fragile. It can be blackened by fears and superstitions.==

₩retched Nobody> You are precisely where we want you… not even a fraction of an inch off centre.

::Grace Brutal::That’s right, Lance!  You’re not even your **** length off centre!

/Lance Hoffman\
What in the hell is Wrong with you people!?

==Oh… this will be fun.==

₩retched Nobody> What do you mean…. “You People”?

::Grace Brutal::Yeah Lance, shouldn’t you be more…. avant garde to the current sociopolitical landscape?

/Lance Hoffman\
Wh-what? What? What the ****!?  Let me go!  Untie me Right **** Now!  I’ll have you both charged with kidnaping?

==The look on his face is priceless once he realizes what is scrawled across the paper I dropped in his lap.  His worry garbled vision comes back into focus he sees his own name in dried ink etched upon the surface of the sheet that has an unconditional release of responsibility in its surroundings.==

₩retched Nobody> You can’t charge us for a theatrical performance piece on a WWG broadcast, Lance.  Without the Art to our craft… we are but just violent beggars and liars desperate in their groping for fandom and fame.

::Grace Brutal::Yeah the only groping that needs to go on is when Wretchie and I release our bawdy sex tape on PornHub.  And let me tell you - that man IS a monster…. if you catch my drift.

/Lance Hoffman\
Does he have someone else’s rotting foreskin on his dick, like he wears that rotting face over his head?

==Well that’s not nice….==

In one swift movement Nobody swoops past Grace and grabs up Lance, chair and all - high into the air.

::Grace Brutal::You know, Lance… I just don’t think he likes your sense of humour, I just don’t think he appreciates it not one little bit, Lanceworth.

/Lance Hoffman\

Grace jumps up on the bed beside Lance Hoffman.

::Grace Brutal::We didn’t come back just to Lose, Lance.  The Wretched Nobody has been put in the WWG Championship Battle Royale Falls count anywhere match with Alastair Morrison, Barney Green, Kira Starlight, Marshall Gates, Michael Benjamin, Van HeLLsing and Derrick Trotter because no One of them deserves to stand face to face with him.

==Despite the pain Lance began to thrash and buck under the crushing pressure.  Desperation to breath overtakes him. Intensity flickers in Lance’s eyes as they flutter and spin back into his head while he try gasping for air.  ==

::Grace Brutal::I feel as if I need to send you back with a message for them… I feel as if you should be sent back bearing warnings for the federation….

==Lance feels the helplessness clench him as firmly has he instinctively began grabbing the scruff at the back of Nobody’s neck while his heart, once quickly beating, is now slowing in tempo. Lance clawed my fingers, at my hands uselessly and used his last breath to scream for help.  ==

Nobody’s hands were grasping at his throat, leaving him without air.  Lance grows ever more blue with life slipping away from him. Lance tries to pry the fingers away, but he is slowly losing consciousness.

::Grace Brutal::I am just the partisan sympathizer to one of WWG’s Greatest Titleholders!  The Nonpareils Devourer of Gods, and Egos!

==His Bloodshot eyes are screaming silently to me, the small ragged gasps were escaping him I could feel our pulses synchronizing.  This is the connection I’ve been missing...==

Nobody’s palms were pressing against my throat; I could feel my esophagus closing, locking completely around Lance’s neck. Lance gulped and gasped for breath. Digging fingernails into his wrists, trying to dislodge himself struggling against Nobody’s death grip.

::Grace Brutal::This WWG Championship Battle Royale Falls count anywhere match leaves Alastair Morrison, Barney Green, Kira Starlight, Marshall Gates, Michael Benjamin, Van HeLLsing and Derrick Trotter the burden of trying to pry the WWG Championship out of the Very same grip you find your pretty little neck in right now, Lanceington.

Lance’s hands fall to his side the energy escapes him in the tightening fingers around his throat, cutting off his air supply. His face begins to turn into a sickening color as sight started to close in on him. Lance’s mouth falls open, another strangled scream leaving him as his feet kick further proving the grip was too strong to wriggle out of.

Lance’s Lungs start to ache, and his eyes were bulging wide with fear.  Lance’s appendages sagging toward the ground, kicking legs turn to spasms and continue to squeeze, stopping every breath short.

==My eyes burned with emptiness and anger - his lungs burn with pain. Fascinated by how his face and throat had built such immense pressure… Lance believed he was going to die as his mind grew hazy.  So did I, for a moment.==

The edge of Lance’s vision goes dark. He couldn’t move, hard tendrils around his neck tightened and the feeling of sinking consumes him when gravity takes hold when he is released by The Wretched Nobody.  Lance feels himself floating in the viscous daze eddies of darkness swell around him as he begins to swim toward the surface the stillness fails him.  Lance feels thrown around by the ebb and flow of the blackened cold.  Clutching at the light up towards the surface, in that briefest of moments when his face breaks the depthless shallow… Lance pulls his first breath before the feeling of collapsing with a *THUD!* back into the cold floor,  and hard reality.

::Grace Brutal::Exactly where you are Lance… that’s where The Glasgow-Lass” Alastair Morrison is going to find himself.  On the ground peering across as The **** Legend Barney Green’s carcass bleeds out crushing, Kira Starlight under the deadweight; Her gasping breaths cut shorter than Marshall Gates’ contract!  Scattered On the floor - across the Arena All Torn Up!   Torn up, and forgotten just like The Merchandisable Michael Benjamin will be…. All of them strewn in wind swept handfuls of feathers ripped from the wings of The Black Angel, Van HeLLsing…

/Lance Hoffman\*GASP!*

₩retched Nobody>I'm not too sure what I'm supposed to do with this This Match - These hands, this mind….. this instability…. There has never been a question if I’m Ready to walk in and Set Fire to the WWG Landscape… But who among them are willing to Walk Into the Fire I Build, and Stoke?

/Lance Hoffman\

==I don’t just start the fires…. no…. I don’t just burn everything they are to the ground, Lance…. I stay to tend the embers.

₩retched Nobody> From a cage I created, to a hell that this heavenly life I’ve made; I won’t grow weaker because I Can't let go of the hatred, cause I love the way it tastes. I wouldn't take back a moment, Not one miserable moment… I'll give it all, Until there's nothing left!  I've walked in my own shoes and come to terms with the fact I'll never change… I just Am What I Am - and I aim to Inflict and find Solace in Their Pain...

::Grace Brutal::The Wretched Nobody has the WWG Championship walking into this Falls Count Anywhere Battle Royal.  Brutal’s Baneful Beast stands between these bitches and a championship belt

/Lance Hoffman\Alastair Morrison, Barney Green, Kira Starlight, Marshall Gates, Michael Benjamin, Van HeLLsing and - haha…. you have a field of newcomers and legends…. ha so there’s no certainty for you…. hahahahh

Lance spits blood across the dank musty carpet as London syndrome phenomenon begin to crack the surface.  Lance courses with the opposite of the Stockholm syndrome.  A psychological phenomenon wherein hostages don’t form bonds of empathy and sympathy In the London syndrome, hostages respond to their captors with belligerence, non-co-operation, and arguments.

==He is going to mention That Abscess on my Career…. Derrick Trotter!==

₩retched Nobody>  I’m The All Around out My Mind, **** Absurd End of the World - Thinning the Herd for the entertainment of To Whomever is Concerned.

Lance pushes himself up sitting against the wall.  He has abandoned hope of getting through this any way other than their way.

/Lance Hoffman\
Derrick Trotter is in this match… he’s one of the few men, and the Only man to shine brightly in holding square victories over you…

==He is surrounded by Beacon Flares, the head on collision of Good Luck and Grim Reputation…==

₩retched Nobody> I don't mind the darkness, it's easy on the eyes… but I’ve been missing something - to make me feel alive - now these paranoid sycophants, masochistic dilettantes All rally around the Narcissistic elephant in the room… I Am The Long Gone One…. Ahead of a Curve, Ahead of the Style, Ahead of a Trend… Ahead of the Future, This new blood pouring into this match means nothing because I Am Already as I have Always been…. Creeping Behind them in every single Shadow cast by every step that brought them to this match in WWG… from the comic relief, Derrick Trotter…. to the Industry-Wide Legend Barney Green!

THIS!  This is the moment they all get to find out what they’re made of…. This is the moment they get to Face Fear! This is the moment they get to Stand Toe to Toe with The Blackness, The Dark Star… The Wretched Nobody… and in this moment - I Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, I concentrate this existence ravaged mind on the present moment... We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone...

They will find Friends can’t help them….. Family can’t save them…. Fans will forsake them the blessing of the courage they can instill.  The only courage that matters is the kind that gets you from one moment to the next…. it won’t matter….. nothing matters…. when all is said and done it will not be The fans chants that matter most - it will be the referee's chant to three - that is what will tell me I walk away from this the winner…. allowing them all so much less than a moment in the sun, a moment of hope… and a moment to dream for prosperity that may Never ever Come....[/i]

Lance stares us at Nobody with awe in his eyes and ire in his voice… he has begun to breath normally again.

/Lance Hoffman\You…. you man, you are one tetched up, whacked out, spastic freak!  Hahahaaaa-haha!  What do you even get if you Win?  HUH!?  The full of the WWG Roster believing that they all have a claim to a rematch one-on-one??  Haaaa-aaaw ha… you two are ****!

Grace jumps down off the bed straddling Hoffman, she runs her fingers through his hair until she uses it to pin his head against the wall.  Her lower cuspids gleam bright white above the curled back lip of her scowling face.

::Grace Brutal::Whoopy-****-doo, Lance!  Whoopy-****-doo!  You’ve gone Crazy like the Rest of us!?  Brave enough to gaslight me and tell me I’m ****!?  You know who else probably thought I was ****….?

/Lance Hoffman\Only everyone who has ever met or heard about you?

==There's something comforting about being able to control our fear. Maybe that's one appeal of terrifying tale. In a world where so many fears present themselves completely unbidden, it’s our unpaid advertisement of evil that let us decide the terms on which we decide to confront our worst nightmares. And, of course, as books these tales are forgiving-they don't care if you close them in the middle of a sentence that's just too bone-chilling to finish — or, at least, to finish in the wee hours of dark. Lance doesn’t remember…. maybe none of them do?

…..I’ll remind them… Everybody is a book of blood; wherever we're opened, we're red.

::Grace Brutal::All my dolls….. I used to like to chop their heads off, and rip their arms off - and stick 'em up on the wall.  I could have Nobody do that to you, right now, Lance… do you think you’d be so full of laughs then?

/Lance Hoffman\
I think… It’d be worth every bit of getting you out of my face, ****.

==No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Grace’s Dream House, is surely not sane, it stands by itself holding darkness within; it had stood so for years before she and I met, and none shy from the fear it might stand for decades more. Within, her scribbled walls continued upright, bricks met irregularly, it’s tilted floors were firm, and doors were sensibly askew; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Grace’s Dream House, and whatever, or whoever walked in there, walked alone…..==

Grace’s hand flies back over her shoulder lined up for a massage sending slap across the face - Nobody grabs Grace’s arm and gently pulls her off Hoffman, back to her feet.  Lance’s defiance whisks away as Nobody slithers face to face with him.

₩retched Nobody> There is something at work in my soul, which I still don’t understand… and although I walk alone into this… so do the rest of them, Lance.  We. All. Live, and Die….. Alone….

Grace impatiently paces behind Nobody, as a fretful furrow goes wrinkling across her brow.  These types of matches have always proven to be Nobody’s downfall.

/Lance Hoffman\You always lose the matches… alone, Wretch.  No matter what you do to me, your track record speaks for itself… hahhah… yeeeeeaaah man whatever you do to me isn’t going to be as bad as falling flat on your face in the big return main event….

==I can feel the look on her face behind me… It always touched me to be trusted with something so terrible as she.  He knew there was something in her, something that was...pure horror. Everything you were supposed to watch out for. Heights, fire, shards of glass, snakes, Every story that his mom tried so hard to keep him safe from. It may be exaggerating to say that all completely successful success stories, especially fantastic stories like mine, are products of neurosis, nightmares or hallucination neutralized through objectification and translated to a medium outside the neurotic terrain. This polarization can be found in any memorable short story, as if the author, wanting to rid himself of his creature as soon and as absolutely as possible, exorcises it the only way he can: by penning it all the way to The End.==

₩retched Nobody> These people could close their eyes to greatness, to horrors, to beauty, and their ears to melodies, or deceiving words. But they can’t escape the scent of death. For that scent was found upon my breath... Together, that breath it enters these human beings.  So many witless innocent who’ll find that they couldn't defend themselves against it, not if they wanted to live.

And as the scent enters into their very core, it wants directly to their hearts, hearts divided once and for all between affection and contempt, disgust and lust, love and hate. He who ruled this scent rules the terror in the hearts of men.

/Lance Hoffman\
Chronic Halitosis isn’t going to be enough to topple some of the Best Stock WWG has ever gathered from All Around the World!

Nobody grabs Lance Hoffman by the face - his awkward or unwieldy grasp no less woesome to Hoffman: Nobody carried a burden on his back. Lance’s dull and labored breathlessness wheezing through Nobody’s ponderous dissertation.

==In the story of Grace’s Dream House those who enter ask only to be reassured About the noises in the cellar, And the windows that should not have been opened… the rules in her house and the world outside had their own rules, and those rules were not humane… her rules were not meant to satiate the so-called “Normalists”.  Her explicit, or understood regulations were principles - each governing conduct within a particular activity inside the sphere of fear.  In Grace’s Dream House, her guidelines, their direction; are just formal ordinance she used to exercise ultimate power, and authority - the ascendancy of my most merciless Wrath.  I don’t even need a cue from her - I’ll always know what she wants and needs.==

₩retched Nobody> We all know what Has happened in WWG, Lance… so mock me as you please… I don’t know that the past matters anymore, I’m not sure it even mattered when it happened…. It all seems so long ago now… doesn’t it?

::Grace Brutal::Yeah except it wasn’t, was it, Lance?  The Wretched Nobody was the Top Guy for a Reason, Lance!

/Lance Hoffman\
Yeah… YEAH… he was a top guy because WWG basically employs the benignancy of a snuff movie director, maybe!?

₩retched Nobody> You day…. I directed?  No…. I just wanted them to discover a profoundly disturbing reality… a journal of pain inked in the blood spilled through one man's ugly crimes against humanity inside that ring. Investigators into it, all find out their role in the story without being given direction… roles which present a record of horrifying details…. Unavoidable, and Unmerciful as I Am, Lance…. Am I not at least worthy of some respect?

::Grace Brutal::Respect is something you have to earn, you cannot force it on others to respect you. Wretch has earned every ounce that should exists in this company. 

They say “There’s a thin line between Fear and Respect, every one of us should understand it and do necessary corrections in our personalities.”  The Wretched Nobody is the very Ruler of Cruelty…. and WWG is his kingdom. All citizens were fearful because of his artfully malignant inhumanity….. the detached harbinger - a hateful, fateful, composer of grief!  No… no he may not be a leader in the multiple-person match genre…. but My Beautiful Wretch IS - The King of these Smouldering Cremation Grounds…

₩retched Nobody> Fear is only when they’re afraid of you, and you don’t fear them. And Yes, Lance…. I know… they will talk behind my back, and no one will actually like me. Society is Juvenile… It’s all based on the concept of who has control is who is the strongest. But neither strength nor control lasts throughout life, and no healthy relationships are built upon them. People only build upon resentment…. Resentment towards Me...

::Grace Brutal::WWG’s own Gerent of Gore… and Magnate of Malevolence… no jabs, jokes or joviality do anything to derail the truth….

/Lance Hoffman\
Yeah? And what’s “The Truth” or all this?

==There is a way to find out if it’s fear or respect - If you’re unsure whether you respect or fear someone, plan to invite that person to spend time with you.

If you’re hesitant about making the invitation, it’s most likely fear.  If you go ahead and invite the person to hang out, it’s respect.  I imagine none of them want to spend much time at all with Me….

₩retched Nobody> The Truth is that Fear is a feeling of uncertainty.... We fear people and things we don’t understand or are unpredictable. Respect is born out of certainty.  Still yet a person that commands respect is a person that is so worthy of respect that everyone just automatically respects them. Think about the people you know that fit this description. There aren't many, are there? People that command respect are icons. They are lighthouses in a stormy sea.

People that demand respect are chock-a-block. They are everywhere. Your boss demands that you respect him. The principal of your school demands respect. Any puffed up tyrant with an ego and no provenance demands respect - just like we Know they ALL WILL!

::Grace Brutal::That’s right, Lance…. just like you… Alastair Morrison, Barney Green, Kira Starlight, Marshall Gates, Michael Benjamin, Van HeLLsing, and Derrick Trotter all about to talk tough through quivering lips, trembling in fear… but oooooooh Not a single one of them will Rightly, and Justly Dread the Devil I Designed out of the Lusus Naturae Nature provided me with.

/Lance Hoffman\
You two… you two just keep going On, and On, and On…. and for what? ALL of WWG knows The Wretched Nobody is an uncanny, unruly and unholy force to be reckoned with.  But this match is absolutely brimming with unseen talent, and brand new blood.

A shiver of intimidation rolls down Hoffman’s spine.  Nobody’s lack of caring or empathy. Those things make someone like him so much more scary and intimidating than any genre he may seem to suit. Grace’s own intimidating characteristics manifest themselves in the power and knowledge she has regarding Wretch, and how imperceptible her thoughts and emotions can be exacted so ruthlessly when he enters the ring acting on behalf of her avarice driven desires for money, power and fame.

₩retched Nobody> Those so-called…..”New” - those so far Unseen Talents make for Bodies that are So much more easily hidden.  When Brand New Blood spills…. It’s always somehow more succulently than that which is old, and provides me so much excess vigor than any flavourful drop from a circulatory plasma spring that has already been tasted, Lance.  When the limits of the body fall so short of those found in the mind and spirit… my thirst is quenched by by the perspiration of their ravenously lecherous devotion to successes they want and can’t have…

/Lance Hoffman\
Someone can… someone will stop you two eventually - even if it’s not on this Carnage.  The rankings will codify themselves, the talent pool will harmonize, the cream will rise to the top and Someone will stand up to stop you.  Someone will be the first to come after you one on one, even if you do find some way to finally survive - the exact same kind of match you’ve never been able to win before now is what you need to survive first!  Best of luck, fuckers.

==This is the moment when he feels those words finally land with some weight as they hit me.  But nothing hurts - I guess it’s people like Lance and the rest who all forget…. I just can’t feel anything at all. Nothing except for her… she’s My Everything.==

::Grace Brutal::All I care about and all I need is for them all to see what Nobody is worth….. We’ll be there… on the Canvas of Carnage - Far Beyond the Wraiths of Equity Orchard, we’re ready to welcome them into Grace’s Dream House…. Brutality awaits awaits them one and all.

Grace doesn’t even glance his way, she barely nods and The Wretched Nobody leans in close to Lance, Lance turns his face to the side as the fear of impending suffering swallows him.  Helpless and frozen - unable to fight or flee, the hot, rancid breath of the monster blankets the side of his face, crinkling the bridge of his nose in a reaction he’s helpless to stop.

/Lance Hoffman\
Just get it over with…

₩retched Nobody> That’s just the thing of it Lance… what you and all the other hopeful idiots don’t understand…. What none of you will ever understand… is so, so simple.  It’s so dreadfully uncomplicated….

/Lance Hoffman\

Nobody’s hand grips the back of Lance’s neck, pulling him up back to where he was sitting before.  The sweet smell of Grace’s perfume fills his nostrils replacing the Mephistopheles-like  pestilential and noisome mephitis that had been smothering him.  The breeze tickles her soft golden hair across his earlobe and cheek as Grace lips draw nearer.  The weight he feels at the repulsion caused by her words - far and away exceed the attractive, intoxicating atmosphere of Grace whose gentility is licking at him so seductively… everything else about her was mesmeric, prepossessing and bewitching - except her message.

::Grace Brutal::Even before this match begins…. It’s already Over...

The deadly cold hand across the back of his neck begins to ooze blackened fetid bile out around Lance’s neck as his senses light afire and he feels the fracture of disassociation lurk up on him, protecting him from every possibly vicious thing churning in his imagination - the schism between that and whatever it is they’ll actually do to him is the cold that peels back from his clammy flesh on the back of his neck, the scent of her seems to release and his next breath is filled with ammonia gas.  He feels everything from the atomic level - over and over ever rolling towards the edges of the universe of his being - a chain reaction begins as the first nitrogen atom hooks up with three hydrogen atoms. Many know nitrogen makes it a great fertilizer, however while ammonia is highly toxic and will attack the lining of the nose and windpipe, the vexation of ammonium carbonate it is still used in Smelling Salts.  Exactly like those being waived under his nose as he opens his eyes and a paramedic crew is working on bringing him back to consciousness.  A concerned stage crew stand looking on as Lance’s eyes focus and reveal the deeply dented canister light laying on the ground beside him.

/Lance Hoffman\
What the hell… what happened?  Where did they go?

Paramedic:You’re alright, Lance.  It was a minor accident a light fell and struck you.  We’re going to take you to the hospital to let a doctor check you out.  But you look fine aside from a bump on the head.  Everything is fine...

/Lance Hoffman\
It’s not… it’s not fine… none of us are fine… NO ONE IS FINE!

The paramedic crew try to restrain Lance as he begins to struggle to get up and run away.

/Lance Hoffman\
They’re coming!  They’re coming back… nothing is fine…..

The scene fades to black as Lance’s hysterics become the focus of the attention in the Hoffman Report stage studio.

Title: Re: Grace's Dream House
Post by: J-Dub on November 20, 2017, 07:00:17 am
Very solid WN RP, dark, mystical, a bit of horror, I dig it, and exactly how you left off, except a little better I feel. I enjoyed the wrap up to it all, how you brought the ending to explain the past scene, kept the unbelievable to an explanation and keeping the lore alive. It actually made me very happy with mine, because it feels like the counter balance to what your wrote here. Excited to see what everyone else writes as well.

Title: Re: Grace's Dream House
Post by: The Wretched Nobody on November 20, 2017, 07:53:02 am
Modified for code correction. 

Title: Re: Grace's Dream House
Post by: Brad on November 21, 2017, 02:59:35 pm
The usual Wretched role-play, always a good read. Poor lance though.

Title: Re: Grace's Dream House
Post by: The Wretched Nobody on November 23, 2017, 07:01:41 am