((These are the translated lyrics to Rammstein's "Wut will nicht sterben"))
Tell me how far will you go?
Do you want to see him on the floor?
Do you want to see him grovel?
Do you want him to beg for mercy?
Fantasies of Revenge whipped by Decency.
You cannot see and hear.
Your sick thoughts, leave him no chance.
Your Rage will not die.
This is what you live for!
You cannot and will not forgive him!
And you demonize his entire life!
Driven into Insanity by your boundless Anger!
Destruction and Revenge, you are born to hate!
My Rage never dies.
My Rage will live forever!
You ram your Hate into him, like a Stone
You've pursued him.
Hunted and Cursed him.
And he crawled into safety.
You cannot and will not forgive him!
And you demonize his entire life!
Driven into Insanity by your boundless Anger!
Destruction and Revenge, you are born to hate!
My Rage never dies.
My Rage will live forever!
"the Scum Of The Worlds"


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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
He sat alone in his one-room apartment. He wasn't capable of looking at Kira anymore. He feared that he'd gone on a killing-spree in the Gatehouse otherwise.
The Furniture was destroyed. Each and every interior object sliced in half. Over and over until nothing had been left. Now he sat in the middle. The eye of his storm. And yet there was nothing he could do to calm himself.
Words were thrown around.
"Betrayal"
"Destruction"
"Revenge"
"Annihilation"
However some white words aswell... They tried to stand up to the red ones, trying to slow them down.
"Friends"
"Loyalty"
"Lo--"
The last one was cut off... All of a sudden the storm began to intensify. He was blind in his head. All he could see was red. Until he gave himself to the red flow. It was decided... He knew what he had to do now... Nothing mattered anymore but to finish off that plan.
He climbed ontop of the roof and looked over Sigil. He saw the giant buildings. He saw the people walking in the street. The beings flying through the air. He smelled the stench from the Hive. The perfumes from the Lady's Ward. He heard the merchants yelling in the bazaar and the Screams of pain from the Mercykiller prison. He closed his eye. In his inner vision he saw it all burning. The citiziens being stabbed by lances, the Harmonium beheaded by his faceless soldiers. Corpses of children being tossed ontop of a fire...
It was done... He gave himself to his Anger. He burned but, he enjoyed. Instead it was funny... So funny that he had to laugh.
He had given everything to this city. And all this city could do, was to push you over, kick you on the ground and spit in your face. And when you think it's over, they begin throwing rocks at you.
No, it didn't deserve any mercy. No one of their citiziens. He would leave. But before he did that, he had to finish those businesses he had left here. One by one. One death at a time.
The Furniture was destroyed. Each and every interior object sliced in half. Over and over until nothing had been left. Now he sat in the middle. The eye of his storm. And yet there was nothing he could do to calm himself.
Words were thrown around.
"Betrayal"
"Destruction"
"Revenge"
"Annihilation"
However some white words aswell... They tried to stand up to the red ones, trying to slow them down.
"Friends"
"Loyalty"
"Lo--"
The last one was cut off... All of a sudden the storm began to intensify. He was blind in his head. All he could see was red. Until he gave himself to the red flow. It was decided... He knew what he had to do now... Nothing mattered anymore but to finish off that plan.
He climbed ontop of the roof and looked over Sigil. He saw the giant buildings. He saw the people walking in the street. The beings flying through the air. He smelled the stench from the Hive. The perfumes from the Lady's Ward. He heard the merchants yelling in the bazaar and the Screams of pain from the Mercykiller prison. He closed his eye. In his inner vision he saw it all burning. The citiziens being stabbed by lances, the Harmonium beheaded by his faceless soldiers. Corpses of children being tossed ontop of a fire...
It was done... He gave himself to his Anger. He burned but, he enjoyed. Instead it was funny... So funny that he had to laugh.
He had given everything to this city. And all this city could do, was to push you over, kick you on the ground and spit in your face. And when you think it's over, they begin throwing rocks at you.
No, it didn't deserve any mercy. No one of their citiziens. He would leave. But before he did that, he had to finish those businesses he had left here. One by one. One death at a time.

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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Godsmack- I stand Alone
Betrayal, Traitor, Backstabber
He heard those words over and over in his head. His friends started throwing them at his head. Because he was brave enough to do something about his lack of power? Because he was sacrificing himself for their safety?
And now even Kira began to act strangely. However that was mostly due to her new soulmate. He wondered if it had been a wise decision to let her walk freely. The cold stone of his prison cell was rather comfortable. He waited for the next berk to question him. And then to send him away, disappointed or with a broken limb. He waited for the real deal though. He wanted them to do a mistake and then he'd be gone...
It was stupid to get caught, but the life of a fugitive was truely annoying. Always another disguise always trying not to make a mistake... But people he used to consider "friends" were all of a sudden against him. Why? Because Amaku was worried? Because she didn't act rational? Because he was active? Because he forgot at times parts of the day, with blood on his hands? Did they not see?! Did they not hear what was happening? And he offered them release! But all they could think of was to imprison him.
Who was the Traitor now?
Betrayal, Traitor, Backstabber
He heard those words over and over in his head. His friends started throwing them at his head. Because he was brave enough to do something about his lack of power? Because he was sacrificing himself for their safety?
And now even Kira began to act strangely. However that was mostly due to her new soulmate. He wondered if it had been a wise decision to let her walk freely. The cold stone of his prison cell was rather comfortable. He waited for the next berk to question him. And then to send him away, disappointed or with a broken limb. He waited for the real deal though. He wanted them to do a mistake and then he'd be gone...
It was stupid to get caught, but the life of a fugitive was truely annoying. Always another disguise always trying not to make a mistake... But people he used to consider "friends" were all of a sudden against him. Why? Because Amaku was worried? Because she didn't act rational? Because he was active? Because he forgot at times parts of the day, with blood on his hands? Did they not see?! Did they not hear what was happening? And he offered them release! But all they could think of was to imprison him.
Who was the Traitor now?

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*Mausman
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
* A sudden rattle against the iron bars could be heard...Kelth standing on the outer side of the cell, his hands firmly gripped on the iron bars*
"Farg...I....I'm so sorry lad...I hate this question in situations like this...but is thar anythin' I kin do fer ye? "
// just took liberty to enhance story, if you dislike me posting here, np, I'll delete !
"Farg...I....I'm so sorry lad...I hate this question in situations like this...but is thar anythin' I kin do fer ye? "
// just took liberty to enhance story, if you dislike me posting here, np, I'll delete !

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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The face that was once Fargul turns to Kelth. To his shock, he is strongly disfigured. His skin turned even paler, and now his veins can be seen strongly black. Where once his eyepatch used to be, most of those veins meet now. The mark is completely black and it is hard to say if there actually is an eye or just a hole. He smiled madly at Kelth:
"Tell me about anyone you see holding a Shard of Utopia... Anything else would be superflous at the moment. Oh and tell Naya, that our plan will have to wait. Eventually even be cancelled. That'd be all.."
The grin in his face, was not sane. And he twitched from time to time talking. Sometimes he frothed a little so he wipes his face a lot. Even his voice is strangely altered. He talks with a low voice, that is not normal for any Human to achieve. He sat against the wall, his arms folded and his legs stretched out.
((You can post all you want mate. Just make sure to leave the 5 bucks for commercial space when you leave
))
"Tell me about anyone you see holding a Shard of Utopia... Anything else would be superflous at the moment. Oh and tell Naya, that our plan will have to wait. Eventually even be cancelled. That'd be all.."
The grin in his face, was not sane. And he twitched from time to time talking. Sometimes he frothed a little so he wipes his face a lot. Even his voice is strangely altered. He talks with a low voice, that is not normal for any Human to achieve. He sat against the wall, his arms folded and his legs stretched out.
((You can post all you want mate. Just make sure to leave the 5 bucks for commercial space when you leave
))
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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Coheed and Cambria- Deranged
The straightjacket turned out to be one of the minor things, that Fargul found uncomfortable. First off, it was the guards. They were all die-heard faction-followers to the book. So far no gaps there. Then was it the fact that his so-called friends began to drop by. Also something that he couldn't stand right now. Having to listen to their crap... With the créme de la créme being Amaku... Who literally tore at his resolve with her confessions... Well it did not really stop him. He was too far gone. Too dead to care now... But the biggest thing that annoyed him, was there was nothing to kill. Not even a fly or something that found its way accidentally into his cell and which he couldn't stomp on.
The Man sat on his chair, closing his eyes and ran through his inner eye over and over again, what things he would do to the traitors. Skin, bones, flesh, blood... Scattered all over his mind. His ears were deafened by the screams of his imagination. Over and over again. The Notaries sometimes referred to him as the Laughing killer, because he laughed quietly from time to time.
Apart from the slow addition to insanities that were clouding his mind, he gathered this incredible hunger. The hunger for power... the hunger for Utopia's pain. It's anger, it's revenge. Every time he got more of it in his hands, he enjoyed to bath in its dispair. Not because he liked to see its fall. Not because he enjoyed the pain. But simply because it made him not feel alone. The cries of the very plane itself merged with his inner cries for revenge. It felt like he was leading an army of hatred, inside himself against his enemies. This was the true power of these shards. It strengthened his resolve.
Even if he gave up his humanity. Even if he gave up everything that he had done in his life. If this killed him. If this destroyed the entity Fargul, so be it.
"It is better to burn, than to fade away!"
The straightjacket turned out to be one of the minor things, that Fargul found uncomfortable. First off, it was the guards. They were all die-heard faction-followers to the book. So far no gaps there. Then was it the fact that his so-called friends began to drop by. Also something that he couldn't stand right now. Having to listen to their crap... With the créme de la créme being Amaku... Who literally tore at his resolve with her confessions... Well it did not really stop him. He was too far gone. Too dead to care now... But the biggest thing that annoyed him, was there was nothing to kill. Not even a fly or something that found its way accidentally into his cell and which he couldn't stomp on.
The Man sat on his chair, closing his eyes and ran through his inner eye over and over again, what things he would do to the traitors. Skin, bones, flesh, blood... Scattered all over his mind. His ears were deafened by the screams of his imagination. Over and over again. The Notaries sometimes referred to him as the Laughing killer, because he laughed quietly from time to time.
Apart from the slow addition to insanities that were clouding his mind, he gathered this incredible hunger. The hunger for power... the hunger for Utopia's pain. It's anger, it's revenge. Every time he got more of it in his hands, he enjoyed to bath in its dispair. Not because he liked to see its fall. Not because he enjoyed the pain. But simply because it made him not feel alone. The cries of the very plane itself merged with his inner cries for revenge. It felt like he was leading an army of hatred, inside himself against his enemies. This was the true power of these shards. It strengthened his resolve.
Even if he gave up his humanity. Even if he gave up everything that he had done in his life. If this killed him. If this destroyed the entity Fargul, so be it.
"It is better to burn, than to fade away!"

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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Thin Lizzy- Black Rose
The moment in the air, went and passed. Eventually hitting the wooden floor of the Inn Room, ripped Fargul out of his dreamless sleep, caused by booze. He groaned, cursing the interior designer and realized he had fallen out of his bed. His head felt like someone was banging against his forehead with a large Iron pipe. The pain made it impossible to fall asleep any time soon, so he left the bedroom and checked the kitchen for any leftover bottles. He heard Kira turn in bed and sat down at the table, while finishing off the whiskey they had left.
He had been lucky. Too lucky for his taste, but he wasn't going to complain. Everything that had happened in the past months felt like reading a really bad novel by a drunk, devilweed addict with a preferrance for jinkskirts sent by Tharizdun. The sour aftertaste of his actions still remained at the back of his throat and it would not go away with all the drinks that the Cage had to offer. Even worse was the thought that he had given in and displayed his weakness in form of the Utopian disease. Samson could go to hell, for all he cared. If that man was down the same road as he had been, it wouldn't matter if he personally killed him or not. It would be merely a question of time.
Fargul was still surprised how forgiving Mir had been... Not to forget the sudden help he had recieved from Zilvai, Hildmor and that other guy... What was his name? Ahh right, Dom. He was indebted... Again. Even though Fargul had initially planned to redeem himself by going back to the Orphanage, Hildmor's statement was spot on. In the end, he could with his money whatever he wanted. He could be a coldblooded mercenary and help the Hiver kids. Not to forget he needed a new flat. And lots of jobs. Getting back to the roots again. Be free and all that. Well, until of course the Guvners decided that being dead does not save you from your guilt.
The moment in the air, went and passed. Eventually hitting the wooden floor of the Inn Room, ripped Fargul out of his dreamless sleep, caused by booze. He groaned, cursing the interior designer and realized he had fallen out of his bed. His head felt like someone was banging against his forehead with a large Iron pipe. The pain made it impossible to fall asleep any time soon, so he left the bedroom and checked the kitchen for any leftover bottles. He heard Kira turn in bed and sat down at the table, while finishing off the whiskey they had left.
He had been lucky. Too lucky for his taste, but he wasn't going to complain. Everything that had happened in the past months felt like reading a really bad novel by a drunk, devilweed addict with a preferrance for jinkskirts sent by Tharizdun. The sour aftertaste of his actions still remained at the back of his throat and it would not go away with all the drinks that the Cage had to offer. Even worse was the thought that he had given in and displayed his weakness in form of the Utopian disease. Samson could go to hell, for all he cared. If that man was down the same road as he had been, it wouldn't matter if he personally killed him or not. It would be merely a question of time.
Fargul was still surprised how forgiving Mir had been... Not to forget the sudden help he had recieved from Zilvai, Hildmor and that other guy... What was his name? Ahh right, Dom. He was indebted... Again. Even though Fargul had initially planned to redeem himself by going back to the Orphanage, Hildmor's statement was spot on. In the end, he could with his money whatever he wanted. He could be a coldblooded mercenary and help the Hiver kids. Not to forget he needed a new flat. And lots of jobs. Getting back to the roots again. Be free and all that. Well, until of course the Guvners decided that being dead does not save you from your guilt.

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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
((Chilly version of Ace of Spades))
They'll call him a berk for this. Most likely Kira at the front. But well, his decision always seem a little stupid in front of reasonable people. In the end, it had to be for the sake of his freedom of action. Thinking back to what had happened these past few months, this decision really looked stupid. What they didn't notice was, all this is a game after all. No matter how many different views there are in this multiverse. And the Modus Operandi for this game requires for some persons to have a clean sleeve. Even if it eventually meant life-imprisonment, death or even worse fates. He just recalled one important lesson of his father's:
Bernadottes are not meant to live forever. One day our line will end.
Death doesn't seem any scary at all, for the second time that is. From all the things that happened, he slowly learned that his past did not simply disappear by wishing it away. And still he sees those faces who have that glint in their eyes... The fear of him becoming weak again? Of him acting like a whussy? A scaredy chicken who simply surrendered? No way. He'd show them, what kind of man Fargul Hammond Drake Bernadotte was. Even if he was Human, even if he had problems, even if the entire world was banding against him, even if he did mistakes there was nothing they could do about his most precious thing: His total lack of Regret!
They'll call him a berk for this. Most likely Kira at the front. But well, his decision always seem a little stupid in front of reasonable people. In the end, it had to be for the sake of his freedom of action. Thinking back to what had happened these past few months, this decision really looked stupid. What they didn't notice was, all this is a game after all. No matter how many different views there are in this multiverse. And the Modus Operandi for this game requires for some persons to have a clean sleeve. Even if it eventually meant life-imprisonment, death or even worse fates. He just recalled one important lesson of his father's:
Bernadottes are not meant to live forever. One day our line will end.
Death doesn't seem any scary at all, for the second time that is. From all the things that happened, he slowly learned that his past did not simply disappear by wishing it away. And still he sees those faces who have that glint in their eyes... The fear of him becoming weak again? Of him acting like a whussy? A scaredy chicken who simply surrendered? No way. He'd show them, what kind of man Fargul Hammond Drake Bernadotte was. Even if he was Human, even if he had problems, even if the entire world was banding against him, even if he did mistakes there was nothing they could do about his most precious thing: His total lack of Regret!
