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| Blood and Cyanide; Cera vs Thomas | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 29 2012, 02:03 AM (62 Views) | |
| Cera | Nov 29 2012, 02:03 AM Post #1 |
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![]() "Sticks and stones could break my bones... but anything you say will only fuel my lungs..." Heavy boots echoed loudly each time they hit the floor, thudding down with such a rough noise that it garnered wary gazes from passersby. Children moved closer to their parents, men looked over their shoulders and their girlfriends or wives shot the passing woman icy stares for being, well, better looking than them. She couldn't help it... well, I couldn't help it. I'm like a drug. And once you're hooked, you're tainted... poisoned... "Like cyanide sliding through your bloodstream." I murmured, ignoring the stares I was receiving. You get used to it after a while, when you wear nothing but short, jean shorts and a leather jacket. In 50 degree weather. It wasn't that cold, really. Not outside. Though... something within me seemed to be turning my blood to ice. As though my own cyanide surprise had attacked me. And it was to the point where my jaw was clenched and fists were tightened at my side. "Destructive forces... failing. Ruins of this little group already lay at the feet of our enemy." I ran a hand through my hair before reaching into my jacket pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, still speaking softly into the cell in my hand. "It's so weird... I feel like I keep throwing it all away." I was leaving a voice message with my fellow SIN member, Judas Dathan, as I made my way through the airport. I was in Arkansas, naturally... that was where the event was being held (where I'd make up for the week before). Jen had scurried off to get a rental car for us, so I was basically just strolling around. Lacking tequila. Apparently, alcohol was prohibited in all parts of the airport except the bar area. Like hell I'd stay that close to someone from Arkansas. Gag me with a crucifix. So anyway, there I was, talking into my phone while stalking through the Little Rock Airport. Though my stride was steady and face remained calm, my voice had a hint of hysteria and my eyes were, per usual... wild. "The war's direction... it's not going in our favor. Dammit. It's his fault. Always always always. Every time... it's like poison. Shit. Judas... did you know? Did you know that... blood and cyanide don't mix very well?" I let the words linger there in the air, before I swallowed and hung up. Nothing ever goes in my favor. Nice guys finish last? Bullshit. It always goes in their favor. The 'villain' always ends up with the short end of the stick. In all the movies, they die or are thrown in jail. When do we win? Tell me... when? When you're cursed with mind and temperament of a demon, every day you struggle to maintain a dignified level of control, whilst still inevitably craving power. People don't realize how hard it is for those who are truly... bad. Have you noticed? There's never any true happiness for the 'bad guy', in the end. We keep being ripped apart and looked down upon, and it's being driven into us like a stake. Well most of us. Unless you're Mr. 'I defeated Orlando Ocean and retained my World Title, so I'm too good to answer my tag partner's phone call'. And then you have people like Steve Thomas who don't even fucking know if they're bad or good or in between. No... no, you see... my opponent this week? Thomas? He can't be bad. He can't be a true 'villain'. Because... he's happy. My pale eyes suddenly flashed up, thoughts cut off, when I heard a familiar voice. Heading away from the terminal was none other than my sister Reya, followed closely by her friend, Paxar. They were talking casually, before... it was though she sensed me. Reya turned her gaze from her friend to lock gazes with me. She frowned, while Paxar followed the direction she was looking and a scowl crossed her face. Usually I would say something slightly menacing or mysterious or some shit to make her think. But as Reya passed, I absently... without even realizing it... grabbed her arm. "And it is from this world of darkness which come the evil, destructive forces of man's nature." "Cera." Reya acknowledged me quietly, slowing to look at me inquisitively. "What are you talking about." "What a coincidence that we meet you here!" Paxar cried suddenly, her voice thick with sarcasm. "It's like you follow us around." "Not that coincidental to meet in one of the biggest airports in Arkansas." I snapped back at Vega, who continued to leer at me as I locked icy gazes with Reya again. It didn't concern her friend. It didn't concern Jen. It didn't even fucking concern Vanessa. I held up a cigarette, lit it and placed it between my lips. "I hear... cigarettes contain cyanide." Reya gave me a perplexed look, seeming tense and cautious as I took a long drag of my cig before blowing the smoke into the air. "What is your point? We have to go, we are heading somewh-" "Can you..." I interrupted, then paused. Reya stopped edging away to look at me fully, as Paxar sighed impatiently. In the reflection of my sister's eyes, I could see the demon within me. It smirked, while I remained stoic before shaking my head and finally continuing. "Can you... purify poison, Reya?" "What...?" "Mmm, nevermind." I suddenly grinned out of the blue and took another drag on my cigarette, Paxar grabbing Reya's arm to pull her away, saying something about me messing with her head. But my sister continued gazing at me as I turned and began heading off. "Cera..." Looking back at her, I waved the hand with the cig in it and shot her a wink. "It seems pointless by now, but it's still fun. If you win this war, I'll quit. Maybe in the end, one of us will end up cleansed. No more cyanide." With that, I strolled off. Paxar finally got Reya to follow her the opposite way, but I knew something had changed between us. I'd always liked bumping into my sister. But I'd hurt her the last time we'd talked. Hit her where it hurt. I had a tendency to do that. Throw it all away. Or as Jen says, 'betray the ones you love'. It's in my blood. But I had to get my point across. To let Reya know that her being in this war as well, despite being against me, meant something. Even if we were on opposite ends of the spectrum, fighting with Reya Serra was as close to love as I'd allow. And somewhere deep inside I wished that the poison running through me... well I wished that Reya would have the antidote. Never gonna happen. "Well it's a nice thought. But angels and demons will always clash." I spoke aloud to myself, a short laugh escaping my ruby lips as I lifted my leg up casually to rub the end of the cigarette into the bottom of my boot, then toss the butt aside. With a sigh, I yawned and started toward the doors, which suddenly burst open. Guess who? "CERA BEAR!" "Oh god..." Jen Ryette twirled toward me dressed in a rainbow colored mini dress, lace pretty much smothering it. I mean, it was like a web of colors and fluff, with the words 'Lil Monster' on the back. But what was most... uh... out there... were the strange contraptions on her chest. They looked like firework shooters, and when she noticed me staring with the usual 'what the fuck' look playing on my face, Jen pressed a button on the side of her uh... boob machines. Suddenly skittles flew everywhere, hitting me in the face as nearly the entire airport gawked in shock. "TASTE THE RAINBOW!" Jen danced around, skittles flying everywhere from her chest. A typical day with Jen Ryette, really. Growling, I grabbed my supposed 'manager' and slammed a fist into the machines. Ryette yelped and jumped back, taking off the contraption and throwing it the ground, then rubbing at her breasts. Of course, that made people stare even more as I grimaced at her shouting. "THAT HURT YOU SKAGBAG!" "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Pouting, Jen looked up at me with watery, puppy dog eyes before a smile suddenly lit her face. "Well I got the rental then I took it for a lil spin and then I went to the city and saw this cool gift shop and it had Lady Gaga shiz. Ya know those fireworks boobies she had? It's like that, only skittles. It's sooo fab. And this dress is totally kawaii, yeah?" "No. Stop fucking around... making me wait in this god forsaken airport longer than I needed to... let's go." Grabbing Jen by the hair, I dragged her out of the airport before security did it for me, as she wailed and thrashed about desperately. Her idiocy was not helping my mood, and we'd barely even discussed my match this week and what tactics I'd use against Thomas. For fuck's sake, I wasn't going to lose against another man with a stupid-ass personality (morbid robots and crappy rockers alike). When we got outside, I noticed that there was a guy playing a song on a keyboard, and a woman and younger man were beside him acting something out, dressed in what looked to be day of the dead outfits. People threw money into a fedora at their feet, as the trio played theatrical music. Blinking, I let go of my manager and nudged someone nearby. "What's up with them?" "They're Little Rock's Mobile Theatre. They travel around the city doing these little plays. It's how they make a living, and they're pretty popular!" "Why don't they just become famous and go get some actual limelight?" "They say fame isn't what they're after." 'How stupid.' I scoffed as I watched them shuffle around, the crowds clapping happily. Fame equals power, which is all that matters. Do they do it for fun? How pitiable. There are far more interesting if not slightly chaotic ways to enjoy yourself. 'Although...', a slow and devious grin crawled upon my face as a lightbulb lit above my head. "Say Jen... didn't you say acting would be fun, if you had the chance?" "I'd be a darned snazzy actress, Cera Bear. They'd call me..." Jen struck a pose, pursing her lips dramatically. "... Jenny-chan, the Ambrosial Princess. People would travel the world ta see my awesomeness." "I bet. So... do you want test yourself then?" Lifting my HTC Desire, I turned the camera on and smirked as I went to video. "You know those video rants people do? Usually I tell a simple story, but acting it out would be far more fun." Ryette gave me a curious look as I handed someone my cell and told them to wait for my signal, then to take video of what I was going to do. Sauntering forward, I smiled innocently at the man with the piano. "Hello. I was wondering if you could help me out." The guy looked up at me, still playing a little tune on his keyboard before a kind smile trailed onto his mouth. "Sure, what can I do for ya?" "I'd like to do a little act of my own. If you'd all partake in it?" Looking at the other two, then glancing at a cheery Jen, I returned my seductive gaze to the guy who nodded and kept that warm grin toward me. "No problem, just tell us what you'd like us to do." People like this... good people... are so easy to manipulate. They're so easy to mold and control. It seemed unfathomable. Yet there it was, in front of my face. "Mmm, you two... just need to dance." They shot me curious looks but agreed. They were really just props; unimportant background features to my idea. Turning to the guy, I smirked and tapped my chin in thought. "And for you. Could you play one of those ballroom songs?" "Ballroom songs?" "Hmm... how to explain it... you know the Haunted Mansion Ride?" "Disney's?" "Yep. The music played between the séance and ballroom portion of that ride." The guy thought for a moment, then rested his hands on the keyboard and began playing the rather creepy ballroom song. It had a ghostly and frantic tune to it, and my eyes sparkled with mischief. Perfect. Zipping my jacket halfway up, I bent down and poured the money carefully from the fedora onto the walkway in front of the keyboard player, before placing the hat on my head. As I signaled the guy with my phone to start the feed, Jen straightened her dress, fluffing up the lace all over it before skipping forward and curtsying towards me. I bowed in response, brandishing my arm in front of me and smirking as I nodded at the two day of the dead-esque people. They began dancing, as I began speaking, turning away and looking distraught. "They follow the tune, the dance of the dead. They see what they see, yet I'm seeing red." Slamming a fist into the nearby wall, I growled and turned around while trying to place a calm look back onto my pained face. "Don't mind me, I'm just spilling my guts. This career, my friends, has got me in a rut." "Speak in tongues, or don't speak at all. They ain't gonna understand the symbols on the walls. So explain simply, paint a picture or two. Either way they don't see it, they won't understand you." Jen murmured, crossing her arms across her chest and staring at me rather coldly. The guy with the video on my cell moved it back and forth accordingly (aw, he was playing the part... cute). A look of faux panic flashed in my eyes when Jen's words sunk in, and I shook my head frantically. "No. My problem lies within my mind. Demons and ghosts, skeletons have me blind. I lost again, my record's tied. A phenomenon, when told, would've once been deemed a lie." "Your former self now covered in scars, do ya think perhaps you're losin' who ya are?" Pausing, I swallowed and rubbed my neck, before pulling the rim of the fedora over my agonized eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me. The fear and power I once garnered a distant memory..." "Ya used ta pollute the room with a filthy tongue." Jen moved forward, the goofy look completely gone from her expression as her smirk matched what mine usually held. "Every day you lost your faith, friends and love." "Take my words, my betrayal and lies..." I followed suit and moved even closer, a scowl playing on my lips as I acted the part (a demon whose fire was fading). "Stain your blood with cyanide." Turning away, Jen crossed her arms behind her back and sighed. "Poison has ya by the neck, I don't wanna hang before a audience of the dead. Your loved ones don't disappear, ya push 'em away. Honestly, Cera-san, you're addicted to the pain." "But... but it's all crumbling around me, my opponent's strength somehow becoming threatening. Steve Thomas, a man I far from fear... weakened by emotion, it's like looking in a mirror." "Don't it disgust ya, to the very bone?" Jen whispered, looking back at me menacingly. "Don't ya wanna reclaim your throne?" "The Baddest Bitch? No, your majesty. The woman who strives off of tragedy." "Happiness can be a weakness, if ya hold it so dear." Came my manager's reply, circling me calmly. "So ya show the good guys why us villains are what they should fear." "And if they have an antidote to soothe their pain?" I growled, lifting the fedora back up with a serious look on my face. Jen whirled around and pointed a finger on me, a maniacal grin suddenly resting on her face. "Oh that's easy, ya take it away." "If they get it back?" "Lunge forward with the attack." "Bludgeon them til they scream for mercy?" "Don't even hear 'em, they ain't worthy. Let 'em cry out, teach 'em how to be bad." Slowly lowering her outstretched arm, the look on Jen's face turned to a cold, almost emotionless gaze that even startled me. "See, bein' like us ain't a fad." I could only wish. "It's a neverending curse, with a war on itself. It can't be purified with religion, power or wealth. If I had common sense I'd cut myself... curl up and die. Instead, I chose to have a bit of fun and spread my cyanide." Light flickered in Jen's eyes as she slowly walked around the people dancing. Our words had been going along with the music with ease (because we're that damn talented), and my manager watched the two as she spoke softly. Their dancing was off as Ryette kept her dark eyes on their every move, as though her very presence was causing their vertigo to falter. "Leave no victim untainted or safe. When ya have nothin' else ta live for, it's never too late. Trick 'em into falling inta your trap, then toy with 'em and taunt 'em... make them snap." Turning back to me, my friend rested her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows. "And you'll say, in reply ta the words of your foes?" "Sticks and stones could break my bones." I glanced toward the camera, obviously aiming my poetic words toward my opponent. "But anything you say will only fuel my lungs. Your miniature streak, dear Thomas, is inevitably done." Exhaling, I twirled on my feet and slowly, calmly sauntered towards the camera as Jen sneakily motioned for him to walk backwards. The view would be slightly shaky as he stepped over the uneven ground, and my devilish eyes glinted with wicked thoughts, my final sentence on my opponent coming out in a seductive, husky tone. "Steve Thomas... in this play? You could be the corpse, and I could be the killer. I could be the devil, and you could be the sinner. A victim of my very life, dipped in poison and polluted with time. A final note... a word to the wise... blood doesn't mix well with cyanide." And I snapped my fingers. The guy holding my phone quickly pressed the button to stop the feed, and I trailed a finger along his chest before snatching my cell back. Turning, I smirked at the three 'actors' staring at me in utter confusion. The one guy was still playing the keyboard, seeming almost hypnotized, while the other two were staring at Jen nervously. Hell everyone around us looked either dazed or completely befuddled. So it'd turned more into a poetry session than a play. I think I got my point across either way. Words were meaningless when speaking to someone like Thomas. And actions always spoke louder. Eh... I would simply have to prove that at Initiative. But this was a fun way to spout off. Gesturing for Jen to follow, I tossed the fedora into the face of the keyboard player and started to walk away. I paused, but only for a second, before continuing my stride after I looked back at the group of people gawking after me. I whispered those same words from before and realized... they weren't really coming from me, but from whatever was within me. Something I felt would easily come forward in my match. Something I felt was the very poison in my veins. But the words escaped my lips nonetheless... "And it is from this world of darkness which come the evil, destructive forces of man's nature." Demons know how to toss some venom at their foes, then rub it in like salt to the wound. And soon Steve Thomas and everyone else will realize that some of us are good, some of us pretend to be good, some of us pretend to be bad, and some of us are truly... wicked. Forever tainted. Forever poisoned. Forever impure. In our bodies? What flows through our veins? A lot of blood, and a little bit of permanent... cyanide. ~*The Baddest Bitch*~ ------------------------------------------------------------- ~This has been a V rp, thanx for reading and have a great f*cking day!~ P.s: God wtf was... I don't even... anyway... For those who can't imagine the song in the rp... enjoy! |
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