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[ The Death Of The First Sun ] // Video / Action.
[ Video. ]
[ There is a man. His eyes are as blue as the cloud-riddled sky struck down by the blazing sun without its shields to protect it and his hair the darkest night, the white streak at the front the piercing moon through the shadows. He was close. Very close. Glaring even into the screen before he begins to shake it viciously with a throaty growl-- ]
Hey! Hey! I know someone's listening! Whoever took my guns is gonna; get so much lead rammed up their ass they'll be permanently squatting! Do you hear me!?
[ .... Though as charming as his features were, his attitude certainly wasn't. The way he was comically flaring his nostrils and huffing was behavior akin to a childs and he trembled with a sort of uncertain emotion before he forces himself to breathe through his mouth. Calm down, buddy. Its going to be ok.
... Its just the last time he woke up somewhere suddenly he was in his own grave, having to claw his way through wood and dirt just to breathe again. The memories made him want to hurt, not himself, but his mind sprang quickly to the idea of gunning down every last mother fucker who dragged him to this imaginary paradise. Breathe, Jason, breathe. He puts on a sweet, charming smile all of a sudden and curls his fingers against his chin, camera in the other hand. ]
... Ok, ok. I overreacted. Sorry. Does anyone know where all my weaponry is? Or my house? If you do I'll be more than happy to converse with you. I'm not armed, as you know. I also might be bleeding somewhere SO, if anyone is a medic or some shit... hit me up, ok? I promise, I'm not the sort of guy who's gonna' kiddy-fiddle you while you work.
[ A pause before he clicks his fingers, ]
By the way, I have no idea where I am because I didn't listen to the virtual person so. By the beginning, if that helps. Thanks.
[ ... Well done. The camera feed flickers as he sighs, sitting down on the ground just outside the area one would arrive in by the magazine stand, just sort of sitting there with his hands in front of him like a lost puppy. You wouldn't think he was a serial murder, vigilante, terrorist and crime lord just by looking at him, not that you would be looking solely at his appearance... when in his side a deep red mark was growing wider and wider. Assistance... would be fabulous! ]
[ Action. ]
[ .... There's a large man on the floor with a worrying red stain that seemed to be extending to the floor below him. He looked calm enough, but the fact he was a man just sitting there calmly as a wound was spurting was sort of worrying. Magic and the universe... worked differently on his body than it would anyone else; there was an energy tied to him physically that made situations like this sort of weird. His first guess was that people probably came to this 'paradise' in a dream-like state of lovely-ness. Of course, not him. ]
Aw, fuck. [ His hand is pressed lightly against his side with a wince... he isn't talking to anyone when he begins to speak next. ] Had to be at the worst time. Other worlds and all this mysterious crap. God... I gotta' be dreaming.
[ Feel free to approach! Hes harmless. Sorta'. ]
[ There is a man. His eyes are as blue as the cloud-riddled sky struck down by the blazing sun without its shields to protect it and his hair the darkest night, the white streak at the front the piercing moon through the shadows. He was close. Very close. Glaring even into the screen before he begins to shake it viciously with a throaty growl-- ]
Hey! Hey! I know someone's listening! Whoever took my guns is gonna; get so much lead rammed up their ass they'll be permanently squatting! Do you hear me!?
[ .... Though as charming as his features were, his attitude certainly wasn't. The way he was comically flaring his nostrils and huffing was behavior akin to a childs and he trembled with a sort of uncertain emotion before he forces himself to breathe through his mouth. Calm down, buddy. Its going to be ok.
... Its just the last time he woke up somewhere suddenly he was in his own grave, having to claw his way through wood and dirt just to breathe again. The memories made him want to hurt, not himself, but his mind sprang quickly to the idea of gunning down every last mother fucker who dragged him to this imaginary paradise. Breathe, Jason, breathe. He puts on a sweet, charming smile all of a sudden and curls his fingers against his chin, camera in the other hand. ]
... Ok, ok. I overreacted. Sorry. Does anyone know where all my weaponry is? Or my house? If you do I'll be more than happy to converse with you. I'm not armed, as you know. I also might be bleeding somewhere SO, if anyone is a medic or some shit... hit me up, ok? I promise, I'm not the sort of guy who's gonna' kiddy-fiddle you while you work.
[ A pause before he clicks his fingers, ]
By the way, I have no idea where I am because I didn't listen to the virtual person so. By the beginning, if that helps. Thanks.
[ ... Well done. The camera feed flickers as he sighs, sitting down on the ground just outside the area one would arrive in by the magazine stand, just sort of sitting there with his hands in front of him like a lost puppy. You wouldn't think he was a serial murder, vigilante, terrorist and crime lord just by looking at him, not that you would be looking solely at his appearance... when in his side a deep red mark was growing wider and wider. Assistance... would be fabulous! ]
[ Action. ]
[ .... There's a large man on the floor with a worrying red stain that seemed to be extending to the floor below him. He looked calm enough, but the fact he was a man just sitting there calmly as a wound was spurting was sort of worrying. Magic and the universe... worked differently on his body than it would anyone else; there was an energy tied to him physically that made situations like this sort of weird. His first guess was that people probably came to this 'paradise' in a dream-like state of lovely-ness. Of course, not him. ]
Aw, fuck. [ His hand is pressed lightly against his side with a wince... he isn't talking to anyone when he begins to speak next. ] Had to be at the worst time. Other worlds and all this mysterious crap. God... I gotta' be dreaming.
[ Feel free to approach! Hes harmless. Sorta'. ]
no subject
[ Said with a great deal of volume as the camera shakes violently, possibly due to the fact hes smashing his fist into the open palm of the other one. His expression is a fox-like grin with his eyes shining like stars beneath the curls of his hair. ]
I know your type. You really remind me of my ex-caretaker. He was a guy that shared a lot of beliefs with you, even down to the whole Angel-and-saint stuff. Did everything by the book and law; believed that those that did wrong could be 'righted' with help. That everyone's sins could be forgiven and all that shit.
[ He speaks sort of fast and breathlessly. Jason chill. ]
See, that rapist dude; I'd shoot his knees out, shoot his fucking dick off and watch him bleed out in an alley somewhere. Do you really believe anyone could repent and undo their wrongs?
no subject
[Probably for the best he's arrived sans guns. Ted's surprised he didn't have them on his person; seems like the type who'd carry them more often than his license.]
You say 'ex-caretaker' as though he stopped for some reason other than outgrowth. Well, whatever the reason for his retirement, I'd say, to his possible credit, he's more straight-laced than I. I believe in a higher law than man's, which will almost certainly get me on the wrong side of it one day. There is one unforgivable sin, though I don't think anyone is likely to discover it.
Goodness, if you mean to kill a bullet to the head will be faster and more painless. If death is the desert, I don't see why you should draw it out. I hope you wouldn't take actual pleasure in the act, as none should.
As for repentance...hypothetically, anyone could, however many might fail. An undoing...hard to say. Every act seems to leave an indelible mark on eternity, but even so, there is forgiveness for nearly every wrong.
no subject
[ Ah, so his growing feverishness was due to the fact that the others words reminded him so much so of his adopted father that it was making him antsy. It wasn't a horrible feeling, no, it was rather a fleeting relief to get what he wanted to say out; like a practice rehearsal for if he ever met his caretaker again. Ted was talking about the law of the Gods and that forgiveness was always an option, but sometimes it wasn't. Jason gives a bitter bark of laughter. ]
Believe me, I take pleasure in watching wrongdoers suffer. A lot. You could almost say its my job. [ Not even almost, it was just a perk to his job; the suffering-watching, that was. ] My ex-caretaker used to say, 'The world works in mysterious ways; those who have not done wrong will have wrong done onto them'. He would beat up murderers and thieves and rapists and stuff them in jail. He'd talk to them sometimes to see if they wanted forgiveness, whether they could change and become better people for the world. But because he refused to take a life of a sinner, I ended up dying.
Where is the justice or fairness in that, Ted?
no subject
[This man had the making of a vigilante, which, funnily enough, Ted almost took after. He still intended to crime-fight, of course, though more along the lines of this mysterious caretaker than any sadism Jason meant. It was as though the universe were sending him a message of the where the path he almost tread led.]
God takes no pleasure in the slaying of the wicked, and neither should you! [But he understands the temptation. There are some obits he'd read with pleasure.] That "job"'s wages are death!
At any rate your caretaker sounds on the better side of sanity. He knew, as any educated person does, that the world is unjust, and well for it, else we'd all be dead.
But for your answer...[He looks like he's thinking pretty hard. The allure of vengeance and smiting the sinners is very familiar to him.] I don't know, or don't know enough. Why did the law not see to an execution? How flimsy are its prisons? I assume your caretaker would go at least that far.
no subject
I think you're wrong. I think when you have sinned enough there is no longer any kind of redemption for you and you cannot repent what weighs heavily on your soul. Its sort of like how sometimes you cannot wait for God to execute karma and how you can't always rely on the law to do anything.
He was a big believer in the law, [ He sighs, ] My ex-caretaker. Big believer in not taking another's life. He takes no pleasure in seeing others die either. I think if he was here you'd get along well, but I think regarding me and you...
... We're completely on the opposite of the end of the spectrum of life. [ He resists saying 'almost like a devil and an angel!' ]
no subject
[good move; Ted doesn't need a bigger head]
I can't say I've ever had to look evil too squarely in the eye; doubtless some would be so dark it'd cry out for death. But forgiveness can go further than you think; sin is not so strong.
Not as faithful in man's law, myself; corrupt creation from corrupt creatures. But man's lawlessness rarely goes better. As for killing...I'm still trying to figure that out.
I wish I could meet your caretaker. But still, I beg of you, reconsider. To take pleasure in smiting sinners...you have to realize that you are one, and grant mercy for that, if nothing else.