RE: MURDERFIA: D1 LET'S DO THIS (66/67)
03-27-2013, 03:23 AM
i started with something big and fancy and I got lazy and it became this
I am never apologizing for this, you all saw something like this coming
#tw: horrible fanfiction, shipping
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SpoilerA young woman drives up to a dingy old building late at night. It's Friday evening, a rainy and dark night. The clouds loom about overhead, the sound of rolling thunder repeating itself throughout the night sky. The moon shines through one small break in the clouds. A full moon, no less.
She turned off her car and climbed out apprehensively. This man was supposedly a master therapist, one who could help her with her problems. They had discussed the issue at length before her visit, probably the most exhausting phone conversation she had ever endured.
The issue was plain and simple: the young Seastorm had been suffering a series of nightmares following an old newspaper article she found in her attic. The newspaper article detailed the death of a young girl by the name of Schazer - a friendly and attractive young flower, her life tragically cut short by the lover she had left behind. For some reason, the story had left Seastorm horribly unsettled and disturbed.
She turned the knob and entered the dusty old building, a series of diplomas from various universities crudely nailed to the wall. Passing by the certificates and an old woody desk, she eventually arrived in the center chamber. The old, wood-paneled walls, the dusty tan carpeting - it all seemed so unsettling. It was as if the young Seastorm had stumbled into the psychiatric office from one of the horrible B-movies her friends made her watch. She cringed.
0_o, the therapist, sat in his chair eating a bowl of pasta. They were none other than #mspastafia brand Rodinis, everyone's favorite store-brand noodle.
"Take a seat," 0_o said in a slow but powerful voice. "I believe to know the answers to your problems."
Laying down on the recliner, Seastorm thought about what might happen next. Where would these sessions take her? Had her discovery of the young Schazer in 1928 set in motion a course of events that would forever change her life? The answer would come the instant 0_o turned around.
0_o was holding a beautiful bouquet of roses. He quickly knelt down by the recliner, where Seastorm shot up with the speed of a last-minute panic lynch, like something out of Dersehunt or some other chaotic, high-post volume game.
"I've..." 0_o started, choking as he spoke. "I've... always wanted to tell you that I've fancied you." He looked longingly at Seastorm.
"I..." Seastorm gasped. A new feeling was rising in her, one she had never felt before. Her pulse raced, her limps failed to form what she wished to express. Eventually, as her emotions spiraled out of control and tears welled up in her eyes, she found the ability to speak her mind."
"Oh, 0_o..." she moaned, gasping for air to make the next bold statement on her mind.
"You fucking bastard!" Seastorm ripped the bouquet of flowers out of his hand and promptly hit him over the head many times. "How dare you exploit my emotional vulnerably to try and get closer to me! You probably just want me physically, not emotionally-"
At that instant, Paranoia appeared. "0_o, you scumbag!" Para rushed him with a knife, pinning the therapist against the wall. "If you even think of trying to take the object of my affection, why I should just-"
"...Seastorm?" A young and naive Tea, one who was particularly killer in his snazzy dress clothes, walked in. "What are you doing here, my love?"
"Your love?" Para snapped, throwing 0_o to the floor, where poor 0_o slumped and remained motionless. Para grabbed Tea, and pinned him to the wall in a similar fashion to his prior treatment of 0_o. "So you're the bastard who's been rutting on my girl, huh?"
"I... I swear, it was a mistake!" Tea muttered. His appeal to pity had failed him, however - Para quickly made short work of Tea, practicing his best punching techniques on the defenseless caffeinated drink lover. The emotionally distraught Seastorm bolted out of the room, ignoring the desperate pleas of a testosterone-powered, lovestuck Paranoia.
She ran to her car and cried the evening away, waiting for someone to console her. In due time, Jacquerel showed up and placed himself within her car, wrapping his arm around her.
"Don't worry, darling," he whispered in her ear. "Nobody understands you like I do."
From a distance, a figure watches as the two shadows in the car conversed and chatted. He laughed, quickly scribbling notes on his notepad. What started as a list of names became a cluttered mess of arrows and hearts and crossed-out lines as the night progressed.
"This is gonna make a great story," he muttered...
She turned off her car and climbed out apprehensively. This man was supposedly a master therapist, one who could help her with her problems. They had discussed the issue at length before her visit, probably the most exhausting phone conversation she had ever endured.
The issue was plain and simple: the young Seastorm had been suffering a series of nightmares following an old newspaper article she found in her attic. The newspaper article detailed the death of a young girl by the name of Schazer - a friendly and attractive young flower, her life tragically cut short by the lover she had left behind. For some reason, the story had left Seastorm horribly unsettled and disturbed.
She turned the knob and entered the dusty old building, a series of diplomas from various universities crudely nailed to the wall. Passing by the certificates and an old woody desk, she eventually arrived in the center chamber. The old, wood-paneled walls, the dusty tan carpeting - it all seemed so unsettling. It was as if the young Seastorm had stumbled into the psychiatric office from one of the horrible B-movies her friends made her watch. She cringed.
0_o, the therapist, sat in his chair eating a bowl of pasta. They were none other than #mspastafia brand Rodinis, everyone's favorite store-brand noodle.
"Take a seat," 0_o said in a slow but powerful voice. "I believe to know the answers to your problems."
Laying down on the recliner, Seastorm thought about what might happen next. Where would these sessions take her? Had her discovery of the young Schazer in 1928 set in motion a course of events that would forever change her life? The answer would come the instant 0_o turned around.
0_o was holding a beautiful bouquet of roses. He quickly knelt down by the recliner, where Seastorm shot up with the speed of a last-minute panic lynch, like something out of Dersehunt or some other chaotic, high-post volume game.
"I've..." 0_o started, choking as he spoke. "I've... always wanted to tell you that I've fancied you." He looked longingly at Seastorm.
"I..." Seastorm gasped. A new feeling was rising in her, one she had never felt before. Her pulse raced, her limps failed to form what she wished to express. Eventually, as her emotions spiraled out of control and tears welled up in her eyes, she found the ability to speak her mind."
"Oh, 0_o..." she moaned, gasping for air to make the next bold statement on her mind.
"You fucking bastard!" Seastorm ripped the bouquet of flowers out of his hand and promptly hit him over the head many times. "How dare you exploit my emotional vulnerably to try and get closer to me! You probably just want me physically, not emotionally-"
At that instant, Paranoia appeared. "0_o, you scumbag!" Para rushed him with a knife, pinning the therapist against the wall. "If you even think of trying to take the object of my affection, why I should just-"
"...Seastorm?" A young and naive Tea, one who was particularly killer in his snazzy dress clothes, walked in. "What are you doing here, my love?"
"Your love?" Para snapped, throwing 0_o to the floor, where poor 0_o slumped and remained motionless. Para grabbed Tea, and pinned him to the wall in a similar fashion to his prior treatment of 0_o. "So you're the bastard who's been rutting on my girl, huh?"
"I... I swear, it was a mistake!" Tea muttered. His appeal to pity had failed him, however - Para quickly made short work of Tea, practicing his best punching techniques on the defenseless caffeinated drink lover. The emotionally distraught Seastorm bolted out of the room, ignoring the desperate pleas of a testosterone-powered, lovestuck Paranoia.
She ran to her car and cried the evening away, waiting for someone to console her. In due time, Jacquerel showed up and placed himself within her car, wrapping his arm around her.
"Don't worry, darling," he whispered in her ear. "Nobody understands you like I do."
From a distance, a figure watches as the two shadows in the car conversed and chatted. He laughed, quickly scribbling notes on his notepad. What started as a list of names became a cluttered mess of arrows and hearts and crossed-out lines as the night progressed.
"This is gonna make a great story," he muttered...
I am never apologizing for this, you all saw something like this coming
![[Image: c48AoKl.png?1]](https://i.imgur.com/c48AoKl.png?1)