RE: The Grand OC! [CONTEST THREE: SIRENS! SUBMISSIONS WELCOME!]
01-21-2014, 03:34 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-21-2014, 03:40 AM by Vancho1.)
Username: Vancho1
Name: "Let me tell you something. My name is Jean Chirac,
Species: And I am a dead man.
Gender: Do you not believe me? I am certainly a man. That, you can see.
Color: Ah, perhaps you doubt in my death? You say that red blood flows through my veins, just like any man? This is true. I do not deny it.
Description: But it is something else which makes me a dead man. Listen? Do you hear the far-off wail? First is the cry of a woman. Why a woman? I will tell you later. Then are the sharp chirps of the police sirens. I am no criminal. Simply an honest man. Yet they are for me. The wail of the ambulance? It is also for me, though you doubt. I am not wounded, you say? Ah, but in my heart, I am.
Weapons/Abilities: For you see, I am a dangerous man. You have seen this, no? Perhaps my entrance into your home convinced you? Or the police-car's cry of my guilt? You think these locks are secure, but nothing can stand closed before me. Well, maybe the heart of a woman. Yes, that woman! No, it is still not the time for her story. She will come later, trust me. Well, maybe not here. She is hurt. But her wounds are nothing, nothing! to those in my heart.
Biography: I was not always this way. Once, I was alive, no? But now it has come time for my death. I was a musician, a poet, a great wooer of women. Some say I was the Casanova of my time. I am not so sure. Even some men were lured in by my song. A true Casanova would be able to choose. I am not so, whoever comes to me, is mine for a time. Or was not so. She was beautiful. Is beautiful! Not only beautiful, but smart, funny, charming, and her beauty, it outshone all others. She had many men after her, lured in by her good looks. A true Siren, she dashed them all on her rock-hard heart. But I was different. Or so I thought. What a fool was I! And now I have paid for it with my life. But at least she has paid as well. There's a comfort. She betrayed me, you see, and she paid the price. I returned the wounds she gave me. It is only fair! I loved her, and yet she tore my heart. It is why she lies in her blood. No, the ambulance is not for her. She was already dead inside, there is no need for her to be taken away. It is I who have died tonight, for I cannot live without her. Yes, I hurt her, but it was out of love! She completed me, made my songs full of new meaning and my life bright. I lived to see her, to be with her, to talk to her. Her presence made the world beautiful. Cruel woman! That she would be with another! No, he is well. He was another victim, taken in by her wiles. Ah! Hear that? The wail draws nearer. I do not have much time. They have found me. I will finish my story. I opened the door. She did not think I could, she changed the locks, but no lock can bar my entry. You saw this. I told you, no? The house was dark, empty, cold, but I knew she was there. She had packed her things, would leave and make me wait outside a place she would never be, but I caught her. Her song guided me to her. The very same one which lured me in at first. I saw... a beautiful body. She shined, more radiant than I had ever seen her. But she was afraid. Afraid of me! She took the phone into her hands, said that I should leave, that she needed to get away from me. What nonsense! She was the guilty one, the one who tore at my feelings. Her skin was so smooth under the knife. Oh, what guilt I felt at spoiling that perfect body! But only for a moment. Her heart bears the same wound as mine, now. And we shall be united in death. The siren is here. The door is being broken down. One, two, three! It splintered. I am sorry. Here, take my wallet, there is money enough in it for the repair. I will not be needing it. Wait, give that back. There, you may have it again. I took my coin for the ferryman. Ah, mister policeman! You have come for me, I see. Please, take me to be carried away. Do you not see how my heart bleeds? Yes, it is my own knife which has pierced it. I have done with my hands what she did to me. The stretcher. Hard, I did not expect it to be so. The ambulance's wail is here. The door closes. The paramedics tend to me, but there is nothing to be done. Finally, darkness. Finally, sweet rest. Is she here with me? Yes, I hear the sound of her breath, faint, ragged, but still beautiful. Ah! What a sound. If only I could change her heart. But what is that? What is this light? This is not the ambulance! She is not here! Gone! What is this place? Where am I? Where is she?
Where has the siren's sweet song gone?"
Name: "Let me tell you something. My name is Jean Chirac,
Species: And I am a dead man.
Gender: Do you not believe me? I am certainly a man. That, you can see.
Color: Ah, perhaps you doubt in my death? You say that red blood flows through my veins, just like any man? This is true. I do not deny it.
Description: But it is something else which makes me a dead man. Listen? Do you hear the far-off wail? First is the cry of a woman. Why a woman? I will tell you later. Then are the sharp chirps of the police sirens. I am no criminal. Simply an honest man. Yet they are for me. The wail of the ambulance? It is also for me, though you doubt. I am not wounded, you say? Ah, but in my heart, I am.
Weapons/Abilities: For you see, I am a dangerous man. You have seen this, no? Perhaps my entrance into your home convinced you? Or the police-car's cry of my guilt? You think these locks are secure, but nothing can stand closed before me. Well, maybe the heart of a woman. Yes, that woman! No, it is still not the time for her story. She will come later, trust me. Well, maybe not here. She is hurt. But her wounds are nothing, nothing! to those in my heart.
Biography: I was not always this way. Once, I was alive, no? But now it has come time for my death. I was a musician, a poet, a great wooer of women. Some say I was the Casanova of my time. I am not so sure. Even some men were lured in by my song. A true Casanova would be able to choose. I am not so, whoever comes to me, is mine for a time. Or was not so. She was beautiful. Is beautiful! Not only beautiful, but smart, funny, charming, and her beauty, it outshone all others. She had many men after her, lured in by her good looks. A true Siren, she dashed them all on her rock-hard heart. But I was different. Or so I thought. What a fool was I! And now I have paid for it with my life. But at least she has paid as well. There's a comfort. She betrayed me, you see, and she paid the price. I returned the wounds she gave me. It is only fair! I loved her, and yet she tore my heart. It is why she lies in her blood. No, the ambulance is not for her. She was already dead inside, there is no need for her to be taken away. It is I who have died tonight, for I cannot live without her. Yes, I hurt her, but it was out of love! She completed me, made my songs full of new meaning and my life bright. I lived to see her, to be with her, to talk to her. Her presence made the world beautiful. Cruel woman! That she would be with another! No, he is well. He was another victim, taken in by her wiles. Ah! Hear that? The wail draws nearer. I do not have much time. They have found me. I will finish my story. I opened the door. She did not think I could, she changed the locks, but no lock can bar my entry. You saw this. I told you, no? The house was dark, empty, cold, but I knew she was there. She had packed her things, would leave and make me wait outside a place she would never be, but I caught her. Her song guided me to her. The very same one which lured me in at first. I saw... a beautiful body. She shined, more radiant than I had ever seen her. But she was afraid. Afraid of me! She took the phone into her hands, said that I should leave, that she needed to get away from me. What nonsense! She was the guilty one, the one who tore at my feelings. Her skin was so smooth under the knife. Oh, what guilt I felt at spoiling that perfect body! But only for a moment. Her heart bears the same wound as mine, now. And we shall be united in death. The siren is here. The door is being broken down. One, two, three! It splintered. I am sorry. Here, take my wallet, there is money enough in it for the repair. I will not be needing it. Wait, give that back. There, you may have it again. I took my coin for the ferryman. Ah, mister policeman! You have come for me, I see. Please, take me to be carried away. Do you not see how my heart bleeds? Yes, it is my own knife which has pierced it. I have done with my hands what she did to me. The stretcher. Hard, I did not expect it to be so. The ambulance's wail is here. The door closes. The paramedics tend to me, but there is nothing to be done. Finally, darkness. Finally, sweet rest. Is she here with me? Yes, I hear the sound of her breath, faint, ragged, but still beautiful. Ah! What a sound. If only I could change her heart. But what is that? What is this light? This is not the ambulance! She is not here! Gone! What is this place? Where am I? Where is she?
Where has the siren's sweet song gone?"