(ADV) Red Smoke, Black Fire

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Erik Black
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Location: A place beyond~

(ADV) Red Smoke, Black Fire

Post by Erik Black » Thu Jun 15, 2017 4:07 pm

Π A note before we begin. Pay close attention to detail and all psychological horror themes. If you've suffered any trauma in the past, I ask that you avoid reading in the event a potential trigger lies in the future. Let us begin, a journey to save the world.



https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Adgx9wt63NY

Fire Water Burn-The Bloodhound Gang.

The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire
The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire
The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire
We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn
Burn motherfucker burn

Hello my name is Jimmy Pop and I'm a dumb white guy
I'm not old or new but middle school fifth grade like junior high
I don't know mofo if y'all peeps be buggin' give props to my ho
'Cause she all fly
But I can take the heat 'cause I'm the other white meat known as 'Kid Funky Fried'
Yeah I'm hung like planet Pluto hard to see with the naked eye
But if I crashed into Uranus I would stick it where the sun don't shine
'Cause I'm kind of like Han Solo always stroking my own wookie
I'm the root of all that's evil yeah but you can call me cookie

The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire
The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire
The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire
We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn
Burn motherfucker burn

Yo yo, this hard-core ghetto gangster image takes a lot of practice
I'm not black like Barry White no I am white like Frank Black is
So if man is five and the devil is six than that must make me seven
This honkey's gone to heaven
But if I go to hell then I hope I burn well
I'll spend my days with J.F.K., Marvin Gaye, Martha Raye and Lawrence Welk
And Kurt Cobain, Kojak, Mark Twain and Jimi Hendrix's poltergeist
And Webster yeah, Emmanuel Lewis 'cause he's the anti-Christ

The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire
The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire
The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire
We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn
Burn motherfucker burn

Everybody here we go
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Throw your hands in the air
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Wave 'em like you don't care
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Everybody say ho
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Everybody here we go
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Throw your hands in the air
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Wave 'em like you don't care
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Everybody say ho
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Everybody here we go
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Throw your hands in the air
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Wave 'em like you don't care
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Everybody say ho
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Everybody here we go
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Throw your hands in the air
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Wave 'em like you don't care
Ohh ohh
C'mon party people
Ohh ohh
Everybody say ho!


Dancing, twisting, lullabye for the eyes to see, the mind to believe, and skin to feel. The light, the heat, that purges all. The sparks that blossom into the raging, righteous flame, towering high, devouring all, roaring and crackling as everything was reduced to ash but stone and iron.

Devouring flame. Though odd. It passed like a wave, burned more violently, like the ignition of gasoline and alcohol. Almost like it was perpetually that, inferno of righteousness passing almost like wind.

Remember? Kids once, you and I. Can't say either of us, was good."

"What are you implying, Max? Grown too old, miss youth, as it was? A ghost, Max. Don't chase it."

"Didn't think I had the strength to. Barely running anymore, as is. Can barely light my lamp anymore, and you're in perfect shape. Never changed once, in forty years."

"What can I say? What I have, it's good for me."

"Fuckin' showoff." Max chortled, stopping to breath in at the end of a filter. His breath came out like thin fog, dark and moody. A tap, dead ash fell to the ground far below the rooftop retreat. A neon sign flickered by the door, long strings of Christmas lights hung from nails and poles around a couch, ice chest, television. The box buzzed with canned laughter, and cartoonish sounds.

"So old, I remember The Three Stooges when they first started."

"Yeah? Good shows. Shame, the fathers of stand-up don't make us smile."

"What can I say? Black's good on us."

"You make puns of my name every minute. Can we smoke without that?"

"Fine, fine." Max's pale hand pushed a long pack of Marlboro Red cigarettes across the brownstone ledge. A slightly darker hand withdrew one, lips closing around the filter. The end smoldered immediately.

"I tell you, Erik, you're gonna be the man to change the world. Raise hell itself, burn it, or scream at the sky. Doesn't matter to me. Gonna be dead before I get down the fucking stairs."

"There is an elevator." Erik responded. He was dressed warmly, in a brown trench coat. Tangled and curled hair had grown the past few years, untamed. He pulled off a savage, sexy look quite well, without intending it. Max couldn't keep his elbows up long enough to pose. Erik chuckled under his breath, puffs of soothing tobacco smoke coming with it.

"Forgot, long ago, why I'm still here. Same building, same spot since we were sixteen. Your dad never did catch us up here, did he? Always thought we'd run off to the shop to see the newest games, or to watch the Stooges."

"Still do." Max said, with a dry voice. Both were so unlike. Yet, for all this time, they had been friends. Brothers, even. Max’s eyes had been on the moon, as it steadily rose higher.

What would happen by moon's zenith? Max seemed to be silent on something, and Erik was on edge. He knew something was wrong. The smell of sulfur had been at the back of his nose for a while, and he knew this night, the anniversary of a terrible event, as Hell's Mouth.

Erik regarded that night, as both terrible fate, and blessing. It was hell, sure enough. Had to understand, no one to talk to, no one to consult who didn't call you a monster. Max was the only one who stayed with the Devil's son, after that.

Could still see the scars, even, on the city. On the ground. In the air. On the man himself, smoking atop a roof like nothing changed.

Who was he fooling? So much had. Their old posters had faded, rain tore them away. Couch was a mess, forlorn in the corner of the roof. The lights had lasted for so long, but Max compared them to himself. Old and fading.

For someone so easygoing, Max had as much vision as his lifelong friend, which made Erik proud. He'd never admit it, but the feeling was there.

“Remember this night? Didn't blame a soul for what I did. Defended me, even. Swore on blood.” Erik extended a hand, where a faint line marked his palm. Max's scar was more prominent. They pressed together, hands gripping each other firmly, as if reliving the most precious moment of their long lives.

“Think I'd forget, with that scar? Hell of a road, walking with you. Worth every God-forsaken step.”

“Have to let History answer, for it's actions. Just need to dig them up.” Max snatched the pack of cigarettes, tossing it off the edge once he realized it was empty.

“Sure you don't want to go home? Not a journey you can walk back from.”

“Erik, I ain't walking back. I know I'm not living long enough to see you end it, but I'm damn well going to see you kick ass.” This forced low laugh from their mouths, still full of that warm tobacco taste.

“Also plan to kick ass while you're at it? Need your cane to beat hellish spawn over the head and tell them off your lawn?”

“Hell with that. Not your sidekick anymore, jackass.” Max grinned, though Erik saw how tired he was. He'd been doing this for so long. But he wanted to. Erik was powerless against that promise.

Even as children, they took the power of binding words seriously. Max hadn't changed, just gotten older. Too old to give a shit.

They were leaning against the ledge, when it happened. The first rays of scarlet. Above, the moon had halted all movement, and would remain for twelve days. It had to be enough time, otherwise, no one would be there the next time it, in another century.

Erik only had so much time left after this. Where he had to go, he may not walk out.

Max groaned, shuffling alongside Erik, toward the elevator. It played a jolly tune as it brought them down.

The walk was silent, Erik preparing himself. His hands were shrouded with black smoke reeking of sulfur, flickering red light under it. The initial show was about to begin.
"Where's the grin you just wore? Did I break it from your lips?"

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Balgair Arregaithel
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Joined: Sat Feb 18, 2017 3:34 am
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Re: (ADV) Red Smoke, Black Fire

Post by Balgair Arregaithel » Thu Jun 15, 2017 8:45 pm

Sure this should be up here, when you ain't doing what the mods tell you to? Also, for a guy who looks like he'd listen to Beethoven 24/7, Bloodhound Gang is hilarious on here. Doesn't fit the given story, if that's eligible as one.

Try The Glitch Mob, my dude.
"A pitiful cry of the damned. Chèr...What do you think?"
~Writings of Darcy Witchmist

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