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originally posted in:The New Dojo
12/11/2017 3:38:30 AM
1
Bedlam looked around at all the dead bodies before looking back at the Uruk.
"Sorry, but I think everyone is dead. You just missed the last one."
English
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"Damnit." [i]The Uruk would sigh a little, entering as he kicked a body a little. A faint twitch from the drunken, bleeding man, before the Uruk's face would widen with a terrible, golden and yellow grin, as he then brought the box down upon the slowly returning, wounded individual. A sick *Crunch!* resounded as the man went limp, his skull caved in, brain matter dripping from the wound. The Uruk threw the box down, shrugging to himself.[/i] "First I get chased by a crazy prophet girl threatening to brand me. Already got me a brand! Now, this. Ugh. Name's Dúsh. You call me Douсhe, and I'll.. well, you're alright, so I might crush your stones if you know what I mean."
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"Mhmm. The name's Bedlam. It's a pleasure to meet you, Dúsh. You seem to be a rather fun individual. Too many people find this killing to be a bad thing, but it's just how I survive." Bedlam gestured for the Uruk to sit down as he took a seat at a table. "Let's have a drink, eh?"
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"Killing's not bad.. killing's how the world works. My world, and the world before this civilized shrakhole." [i]The Uruk-hai would shuffle himself down into the seat, scrounging throughout his own being before then retrieving what appeared to have been a dirty flask, filled with a sickly dark red liquid.[/i] "[i]There's[/i] a drink for ya. Grog."
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"Grog? Oh, sounds like a good time. Why don't you take the first swig, sir?" Bedlam looked over at the grog with suspicion, not entirely sure whether or not to take a random drink.
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Edited by Weeaboo Of War: 12/11/2017 9:00:25 PM"You'd think I'd poison you? No, I'd lop your pretty little head off." [i]Dúsh laughed a little, swigging down the contents of the bottle almost immediately. He would wipe off the drink's residue upon his lips, dropping the flask to the ground.[/i] "Jeez. I'm not above poisonin', but.. jeez. So ya killed this lot for survival? ...Seems like a pretty helpless, dead lot."
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"I wasn't fighting in self-defense. I feed off of killing and causing uproar. This is how I eat in a sense." He shrugged. "Not my fault."
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"Not your fault? Pfft-ha! Can't even accept your crimes. You sound like that Ranger!" [i]The Uruk seemingly fumed, then, at the very mention of a "Ranger".[/i] "[i]Oh..[/i] that Ranger. That sniveling, snickering, widowing, piece of walking, smelling shrak."
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"No, I know I murdered people and I accept that, but I had to. Either I do this or die and...well, my life is worth more than these weaklings." Bedlam sighed. "Who's this Ranger anyway?"
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"Damn murderer, though least you have somethin' of a reason. No, he gets his rush through shaming and shrak. See?" [i]The Uruk's hand would then shoot up, though not to hit Bedlam, as his pointer finger would rest upon his right cheek. There, a human hand had seemingly burnt into the flesh, seared into Dúsh's tattered skin, the palm the deepest part of the wound.[/i]
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"Oh sh*t...he really got you." Bedlam narrowed his eyes on the mark, leaning in a little for a few seconds before siiting back in his seat. "That guy sounds like an *sshole."
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"Mmhm. Though.. all's fair in love and war. Except there's not really any love, just war. What about you, then? You seem rather affiliated with both love 'n war. Seems like this is the type of place to settle down and wait for the fights to come 'long." [i]Dúsh smirked a little, leaning back then.[/i]
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"Well..." Bedlam leaned back, placing his feet on a nearby table. "Considering my race is just a bunch of violent by nature *ssholes...I'm pretty familiar with war, yeah. I helped commit genocide a long while back against a race we considered our rivals. As for love...I'm not so sure."
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"Bah. Got to be some crazy girls that're into murderers. Besides - you're still a younger tark, you look to be the type to go after some gals. And you've gone on a genocide? Cheers. Not exactly genocidal 'ere, though I've got three-hundred and eleven under my belt. What about you? You don't even know, do you?" [i]At that, Dúsh would only grin.[/i]
