Post by Donzig on Dec 20, 2022 22:59:22 GMT -5
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
Donzig’s voice growled, and light slowly spread across the scene as he looked up from beneath his cowl.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Smoke rises on the cold bitter wind as Donzig stands in the wreckage of the Philadelphia house, he shakes his head as he walks through the burned out skeleton. He picks up a piece of wood, staring at it as the Death Squad comb through the wreckage. Sinclair stands at his side, a broken and blacked mug that reads ‘World’s Best Dad’ on it dangling from her fingers. Sinclair frowns, shaking her head as Donzig drops the wood.
‘Armand missed the mark, the house in Pittsburgh belonged to the man I was. But it is nothing to me, a tomb to a man long dead. A museum to faded glories. This hurts worse, because this was my place. This was the House of the Scourge.’
Donzig’s voice rose to a shriek, and Sinclair flinched away as the Death Squad looked up. Donzig waved them away, and he took the mug from the Baroness to stare down at it.
‘This was where my family called home, Armand. And you dare much don’t you? I should go to the Usurper and bend the knee, and then where would that leave you, old friend? She wouldn’t need you anymore then would she? That is what scares you to death isn’t it?’
Donzig snorted a laugh, and he looked at the mug again as his fingers tightened around it.
‘Where would you be then? If I am the Lord of Nothing, would you be even less if Esmeralda washed her hands of you?’
He shrugged, the mug handed back to Sinclair as Donzig rubbed his ash stained fingers together as he looked at the cold sky. In the nearby yards you could see the gleam of Christmas lights, and he walked across the blackened and burned wreckage before he hissed again.
‘You’re right of course, I was a fool to trust you. I was a fool to trust any of your family. I know a scorpion when I see one. Of course, so do you. Perhaps that is why I am so enraged by this betrayal, maybe that is why my hate for the Usurper blinds me so! I don’t like to be outsmarted, Armand. I don’t like to be outplayed, I don’t like to feel foolish. You and Esmeralda know that I am creature of pride and wrath, and as such these wounds?’
A tilt of his masked head, and a shrug. The lights of Christmas gleamed across the metal of his mask, and he stared into the night as his breath rose around his masked visage like a cloud before his hand waved.
‘I see what you are doing, Armand. You know that we will face each other at New Years Brawl, and as the new year is born? Donzig-Gun will wade through your precious ‘family’, and we will make you and the Usurper pay for your insults. You know what we are, so no silly rap lyrics or baby insults from you. No, no, no. You did this. I know you want me angry, Armand. You want me to enter OVN3 with my bloodlust up, you want that Donzig don’t you? The one that burns, that rages, and only seeks to destroy.’
Donzig shrugged, and he sniffed.
‘You may yet get your wish. I know you want to weaken me, that my injuries will not heal as quickly as yours. But you forget one thing, Armand?’
A hand lifted, and it splayed across the surface of the mask before he dragged it off. His eyes flashed, and then his fingers lifted to stroke through his beard. He scowled, staring down at the mask before he handed it off to the hovering Sinclair. His eyes narrowed then, and he spat.
‘I have no fear of pain, of death, of destruction. I will not stop, Armand. I will not ever stop, I can only be contained. You boast of your cages in your little circus? The depths of the Abyss could not hold the Scourge, the vast gulf of Oblivion could not contain me, and though you have burned my home to ash? I am still here, Armand.’
He walked across the broken walls, and glared at the blackened wood before he stepped over it. He shook his head, and lifted his hand to rub his stained fingers together before he wiped them off absently.
‘You have your money, your power, your little circus, and your family. You think these things impress me? You think I should fear them? But no, Armand, I have had these things, I have them now, and I have also had nothing except myself. All you have done is bring my attention down on yourself. And so the punishment of the House of the Usurper will begin at OVN3, and I will break you as a warning to the rest of your–’
A pause, and Donzig seemed to think as he looked to the sky.
‘--brood. You and I? We are not Pillars! We are not Bang! Bros, and thank the Void for that. And we are certainly not whatever the fuck it is Steve Not Really Awesome is doing. But you and I? We are something else, we are perhaps the shadows of the XHF. It’s dark underbelly, and men such as us? We cast long shadows do we not?’
A sniff, and Donzig stared again at the cold stars with a shrug.
‘Or perhaps we are just its hungers made manifest, the belly of the beast. The thing in the XHF that craves blood, violence, and dominion over all. I would like that as well. But the facts are Armand? In our own way this is our own little Civil War, and the XHF no matter who wins or loses will bear the scars of it. We are locked together, and this place will join us in the death spiral.’
He turned then, and his eyes were cold and hard as a smile spread across his eyes. A horrible grin that didn’t touch those dead eyes as a hand lifted to tap against his bearded chin as he started to pace once more through the ashes before the hand waved.
‘I am not afraid of death, Armand. I am not afraid to walk among the ashes of this world, I long for the endless dark, I hunger for war and chaos unending. This world is my hell, a prison if you will, but it isn’t for you is it? It’s your playground, you and Esmeralda go through so much, so very much to gain money and power, to enjoy fine things, to savor all this world has to offer. That is the difference between us, in the end you both need this world.’
The Scourge growled, a hand waving absently as he looked across the snow which glowed with the bright lights of Christmas. His eyes flicked across the yards with their decorations, and he sniffed before he looked back to the burned out ruins of his home. His minions were still digging in the wreckage, and he shrugged.
‘And I reject it, which is why at OVN3? I will do anything, anything to destroy you, Armand. I will break you, I will shatter you, I will leave you laying. And then when your spawn and your wife drag your carcass back to me at New Years Brawl? I will pick the flesh from your bones, and maybe? I will stick you in one of my cages, Armand. And then you will see what I see, eh.’
The Scourge grimaced, and a hand lifted claw like to wipe across his mouth.
‘Nothing. You will see the nothing that is inside of all of this.’
A hand extended, and Sinclair handed the mask back to him with a slight bow of reverence. Donzig stared at the mask before he slowly lowered his head, pulling it on before he turned back to the camera. A hiss, and he tilted his head with a jerk of his neck.
‘Armand Von Krauss. See you soon.’
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
Donzig’s voice growled, and light slowly spread across the scene as he looked up from beneath his cowl.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Smoke rises on the cold bitter wind as Donzig stands in the wreckage of the Philadelphia house, he shakes his head as he walks through the burned out skeleton. He picks up a piece of wood, staring at it as the Death Squad comb through the wreckage. Sinclair stands at his side, a broken and blacked mug that reads ‘World’s Best Dad’ on it dangling from her fingers. Sinclair frowns, shaking her head as Donzig drops the wood.
‘Armand missed the mark, the house in Pittsburgh belonged to the man I was. But it is nothing to me, a tomb to a man long dead. A museum to faded glories. This hurts worse, because this was my place. This was the House of the Scourge.’
Donzig’s voice rose to a shriek, and Sinclair flinched away as the Death Squad looked up. Donzig waved them away, and he took the mug from the Baroness to stare down at it.
‘This was where my family called home, Armand. And you dare much don’t you? I should go to the Usurper and bend the knee, and then where would that leave you, old friend? She wouldn’t need you anymore then would she? That is what scares you to death isn’t it?’
Donzig snorted a laugh, and he looked at the mug again as his fingers tightened around it.
‘Where would you be then? If I am the Lord of Nothing, would you be even less if Esmeralda washed her hands of you?’
He shrugged, the mug handed back to Sinclair as Donzig rubbed his ash stained fingers together as he looked at the cold sky. In the nearby yards you could see the gleam of Christmas lights, and he walked across the blackened and burned wreckage before he hissed again.
‘You’re right of course, I was a fool to trust you. I was a fool to trust any of your family. I know a scorpion when I see one. Of course, so do you. Perhaps that is why I am so enraged by this betrayal, maybe that is why my hate for the Usurper blinds me so! I don’t like to be outsmarted, Armand. I don’t like to be outplayed, I don’t like to feel foolish. You and Esmeralda know that I am creature of pride and wrath, and as such these wounds?’
A tilt of his masked head, and a shrug. The lights of Christmas gleamed across the metal of his mask, and he stared into the night as his breath rose around his masked visage like a cloud before his hand waved.
‘I see what you are doing, Armand. You know that we will face each other at New Years Brawl, and as the new year is born? Donzig-Gun will wade through your precious ‘family’, and we will make you and the Usurper pay for your insults. You know what we are, so no silly rap lyrics or baby insults from you. No, no, no. You did this. I know you want me angry, Armand. You want me to enter OVN3 with my bloodlust up, you want that Donzig don’t you? The one that burns, that rages, and only seeks to destroy.’
Donzig shrugged, and he sniffed.
‘You may yet get your wish. I know you want to weaken me, that my injuries will not heal as quickly as yours. But you forget one thing, Armand?’
A hand lifted, and it splayed across the surface of the mask before he dragged it off. His eyes flashed, and then his fingers lifted to stroke through his beard. He scowled, staring down at the mask before he handed it off to the hovering Sinclair. His eyes narrowed then, and he spat.
‘I have no fear of pain, of death, of destruction. I will not stop, Armand. I will not ever stop, I can only be contained. You boast of your cages in your little circus? The depths of the Abyss could not hold the Scourge, the vast gulf of Oblivion could not contain me, and though you have burned my home to ash? I am still here, Armand.’
He walked across the broken walls, and glared at the blackened wood before he stepped over it. He shook his head, and lifted his hand to rub his stained fingers together before he wiped them off absently.
‘You have your money, your power, your little circus, and your family. You think these things impress me? You think I should fear them? But no, Armand, I have had these things, I have them now, and I have also had nothing except myself. All you have done is bring my attention down on yourself. And so the punishment of the House of the Usurper will begin at OVN3, and I will break you as a warning to the rest of your–’
A pause, and Donzig seemed to think as he looked to the sky.
‘--brood. You and I? We are not Pillars! We are not Bang! Bros, and thank the Void for that. And we are certainly not whatever the fuck it is Steve Not Really Awesome is doing. But you and I? We are something else, we are perhaps the shadows of the XHF. It’s dark underbelly, and men such as us? We cast long shadows do we not?’
A sniff, and Donzig stared again at the cold stars with a shrug.
‘Or perhaps we are just its hungers made manifest, the belly of the beast. The thing in the XHF that craves blood, violence, and dominion over all. I would like that as well. But the facts are Armand? In our own way this is our own little Civil War, and the XHF no matter who wins or loses will bear the scars of it. We are locked together, and this place will join us in the death spiral.’
He turned then, and his eyes were cold and hard as a smile spread across his eyes. A horrible grin that didn’t touch those dead eyes as a hand lifted to tap against his bearded chin as he started to pace once more through the ashes before the hand waved.
‘I am not afraid of death, Armand. I am not afraid to walk among the ashes of this world, I long for the endless dark, I hunger for war and chaos unending. This world is my hell, a prison if you will, but it isn’t for you is it? It’s your playground, you and Esmeralda go through so much, so very much to gain money and power, to enjoy fine things, to savor all this world has to offer. That is the difference between us, in the end you both need this world.’
The Scourge growled, a hand waving absently as he looked across the snow which glowed with the bright lights of Christmas. His eyes flicked across the yards with their decorations, and he sniffed before he looked back to the burned out ruins of his home. His minions were still digging in the wreckage, and he shrugged.
‘And I reject it, which is why at OVN3? I will do anything, anything to destroy you, Armand. I will break you, I will shatter you, I will leave you laying. And then when your spawn and your wife drag your carcass back to me at New Years Brawl? I will pick the flesh from your bones, and maybe? I will stick you in one of my cages, Armand. And then you will see what I see, eh.’
The Scourge grimaced, and a hand lifted claw like to wipe across his mouth.
‘Nothing. You will see the nothing that is inside of all of this.’
A hand extended, and Sinclair handed the mask back to him with a slight bow of reverence. Donzig stared at the mask before he slowly lowered his head, pulling it on before he turned back to the camera. A hiss, and he tilted his head with a jerk of his neck.
‘Armand Von Krauss. See you soon.’
