Please Login or Register to get full access to the forums.

Lost Password?
Current time: 03-29-2024, 12:18 AM (time should display as Pacific time zone; please contact Admin if it appears to be wrong)                                                                


X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Lethal Lottery 4 RP Board
Art of Royalty - Lethal Lotto #4
Author Message
Imperial Offline
The Unchained Prince


WWW

XWF FanBase:
(.Awaiting user update)


#1
03-30-2017, 02:29 AM









The crackling of fire intertwines beautifully with the soft keys on an old organ. The tune of a classic carousel sweeps through the red room. You pan through the room, stopping on the image of Danny, bent over the organ, playing the tune with his long, graceful fingers. His hair is tied back into a neat bun, his beard tied down at the tip to keep it under control. He’s dressed in a well pressed black suit, one clearly tailored specially for his muscled body. From his breast pocket, the tip of a red rose can be seen, trimmed perfectly to fit the suit. His hands glide across the keys with purpose, coming down hard when they need to, and lifting off lightly.

A knock against the large mahogany door causes him to stop abruptly. After a second frozen in his spot, Danny straightens his back, turning to look towards the door. A look of annoyance can briefly be seen flashing across his features, before it smoothens out to his childish smile once more. He pats down the creases on his trousers, placing the silk covering of the keys back over them.



[Image: b0c74b62ce8c35bacdf6effdcefd00af.jpg]



Danny Imperial
“Yes Jackson? You don’t usually interrupt me when I’m… Playing.”


The man standing at the door is dressed in a similarly pristine fashion. However his suit ends with long coat tails at the back, coming down to the back of his lower thighs. His suit was a glossy black, his shoes and gloves were a spotless white. He seemed to be a man in his early thirties, well built in his own right, hair cleanly combed into a bun as well. His olive toned skin gave away his Polynesian heritage.



[Image: butler1.jpg]




Jackson Turi
“I apologize Danny, but I really think you should see this”


Danny Imperial
“I’m going to have your head for not calling me Sir! The guillotine for you! Come now; show me what’s so important”


Jackson sighs, grinning slightly as he walks towards Danny. In his hands is a tablet, a sleek looking iPad mini by the looks of it. He pulls it up in front of him, tapping its glass screen a few times before holding it out in front of Danny. The sound of Scully’s voice emanates from the speakers of the device. Danny narrows his eyes a little, paying attention to the video playing. A look of annoyance and then a look of sadness flicker across his face. As the video comes to a close, Danny has his hands in fists, on his lap. He jerks them down as he comes to his feet.

Danny Imperial
“Humph! Absolutely zero creativity. His lack of effort just makes me want to… Just makes me want to… write an ode! Gah!”


Danny drops back to the seat in front of the organ, his hands removing its silk cover and folding it neatly before placing it beside him. His fingers rest on the surface of the keys as a look of deep thought comes upon him. He begins to play an unknown, off beat and oddly composed piece.

“Round and round you spin,
Like an endless carousel
With an endless din,
Committing thoughtless sin.
I’ve told you once,
In great detail,
But yet again you pounce
Without a thought, not an ounce.
With such lack of creativity,
Why do I even bother?
To help you with generosity,
When you spew back stupidity.
This is an art,
This is service I do,
So please play your part,
Instead of being such a tart.”


He takes his hands off the keys, sighing to himself and covering them once more. He gets back to his feet, dabbing the sweat off his forehead with a kerchief. He glances to Jackson.

Danny Imperial
“I need an injection of color in my life, take me Jackson, take me to that wonderful place. All this grey speech and hateful berating has me feeling like a Tim Burton movie.”




The sweet smell of caramelized popcorn wafts through the air, mingled with the scent of excitement and innocent glee. Flashing lights come to view as you adjust the rotating tip of your lens, trying to focus on the scene before you. After a solid click, caused by you plugging in your sound component, a familiar jingle becomes clear as day. A sound known to by many a children, well ingrained into their minds to signify a fun night out with the family.

You see an empty, dented can of Budweiser rolling past, standing out against the wooden planks beneath your feet. The carnival seems to be inching towards its twilight hours; you don’t see a single individual within the frame of your shot. Centralized before your gaze is a ride so integral to a carnival that it’s almost eerie melody epitomizes the atmosphere of a carnival. The carousel is still spinning before you, the historic 1906 rotating hub of joy sat under a red and white tent.



[Image: wonder-wheel-coney-island.jpg]



The technicolored horses seem to gallop around it, swaying up and down as they rotate endlessly. There he is. Sitting on the back of one of the horses, the individual who dialed you to come and film him. Instead of sitting normally, facing the motion of the carousel, he sits facing you, eyes facing out and away from the carousel’s core. You hurry towards him, wanting to get this interview over and done with; you’d just about had enough of this man’s eccentricities. Creepy bugger.

As you reach the edge of the carousel, you seem him pass you a few times, before the engine of the carousel begins to sputter and whiz.

Carnival Attendant
“I think it’s about time you got off the ride, Sir. It’s quarter past 12, the park’s closed, Sir.”


The carousel slows down to a stop, with Danny conveniently right in front of you. On his face lies a smile, one you’ve grown to hate in the last week or so that you’ve known him. Well… Hate isn’t the word. You can’t pin the tail on the donkey that is your feelings towards this man. He’s uncomfortable to be around, yet intriguing to listen to, he’s slightly creepy, yet oddly charming. He was a plethora of contradictions. Still dressed in his impeccably put together suit, he addresses the attendant.

Danny Imperial
“Oh my apologies, I seem to have lost track of time, my good friend. Could I perhaps just sit around? I do love this… Atmosphere. And there’s quite none like it, none like home.”


Carnival Attendant
“No Sir, no you can-“


Danny tilts his head to glance at the man, and having come out from the garish lighting of the carousel his intimidating face paint becomes clear.

Carnival Attendant
“Uh, uh… Do whatever you want Sir. (In a much quieter tone) I don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with these freaks”


Danny claps his hands and smiles at you.

Danny Imperial
“Oh, what a delightful man! Wasn’t that just so nice of him to let me hang around here and talk to you? Wonderful isn’t it, this place. I grew up coming here at least once a week, nothing quite like the smell of Coney dogs and car’mel popcorn is there? Yup, nothing quite like it. It’s quite intoxicating, isn’t it? Makes you just want to leap into the air and click your heels, chase some birds or get into a little mischief. Makes you feel all fuzzy inside but at the same time rushes your vessels with adrenaline. Yum! After that mentally invoking promotional video released by my dear friend, I simply had to come here to cool off. It tickled my mind so, challenging my very core and instigating a fiery passion that can no longer be quenched! I can’t imagine what possessed the poor soul to come up with something simply so… So… Dull.

He took every ounce of ingenuity that I possessed and portrayed for him and the world, ingested it, molded it within his bowels and quite literally passed out a twisted abomination that I can’t even bear to call art. Oh it makes me shudder. I so naturally craft masterpieces out of nothing, whilst he quite as naturally tears masterpieces down into monstrosities. Where was the art? Where was the innovation and where was the genius? How will you invoke anything other than disgust within me if you do not even try, my friend?

Your words are derived from anger and frustration, in hopes of causing me to fear and fumble but you package them with such inability and dryness. Your attempt at casual mockery of my brilliance and such scripted lack of effort really saddens me, Scully. I thought we had a thing, going on. I stressed on your obsession with whose phallus I place in my mouth yet it has returned with a lackluster sparkle. Derogatory terms for homosexuality and euphemisms for sexual interactions were sprinkled all over that little show you put together for me. It almost felt like I was back at private school, sitting by the playground, having twelve year old boys scream “!” and “Bender!” at each other. I mean even then I was aware that such insults lacked… Character.

I crafted a thing of beauty for you, held your hand and took you down a walk on memory lane. I helped you experience an amalgamation of feelings from reminiscing about your childhood, your glory days, your harsh defeats and your eminent disgrace. That’s clear even from your burst of anger at the thought of me coming into your home. That, that spike in your emotional balance is what I crave to invoke when I create something. But your tirade created nothing, it invoked nothing, it was just one flat line on a hospital monitor.




[Image: flatline.jpg]




Why won’t you play this game with me on equal footing? I do want your attention, and I made that clear, because I felt like you’d be selling yourself short if you didn’t give it to me. I don’t desire your approval, but I desire your part in this dance we’re about to dance. Oh I know I’ll create a thing of beauty this weekend, but using you as a pencil to draw this landscape will be so much easier if you’re nice and sharpened before it, no?

That is all I desire, and that is what I attempted to do. Bring back your memory, bring back your feelings and relight your passion. Have you charge at me, claws out and ready to tango, that’s all I desired. I didn’t get quite the response that I was hoping for, but at least you seem angry. Good good good, I can work with that.

But let me try once more, give you another bit of advice.

I brought you here to this carousel because that’s what your career, your speech and your incessant insults remind me of. An endlessly spinning, purposeless carousel. You’re shouts and scream can be heard no matter where you are in this park, your once beautiful sound has grown old and repetitive. Your once artistically crafted animals are now faded and but a shadow of what they once were. Your once acclaimed beauty, now an unsightly stain on the painting.

Your insults circle a central point, over and over and over again. Your creativity stunted at what brings amusement to the simple mind of a child. Perhaps being a father has taken its toll; dumbed you down to what your dear boy can understand. Please, oh please don’t bother with another release if you aren’t going to try, my friend. Please don’t continue throwing paint on this canvas if you have nothing to provocative to add onto it. I’d like the fans to come in to watch us with something positive on their minds that we can only exceed, not something that chokes the life out of them, that we’d have to fight against in that squared circle.



[Image: tenor.gif]



You might have been fighting here longer, you might have a few more shiny things in your closet than I do. As you so eagerly like to force me out of some imaginary close, I’d suggest you take your head out of that closet now and face what’s in front of you, realize that I’m every bit your better and put what little time you have left in the gym. I can only hope that you’re better bouncing about in the ring than you are floundering before a camera with the only friend you have left.

To conclude my carousel imagery, let me just say one last thing. Scully, my friend, just like this carousel today, your once illustrious career will come to a spluttering, whirring end. It’s quarter past 12 on the clock of your career, it’s time to close, and it’s time for you to get off the ride.”


Danny turns away from you, leaping into the air and clinking his ankles together. He slips his hand into his suit pockets, beckoning Jackson to take him home. As he leaves, you can hear him whistle the tune of the carousel.



[Image: rOOyv.gif]







The Unchained Prince

[Image: werwolves-eyes-for-Jason-Momoa.gif]
Edit Hate Post Like Post
[-] The following 4 users Like Imperial's post:
(03-30-2017), JimCaedus (03-30-2017), Peter Fn Gilmour (03-30-2017), The Monster of Htaed (03-30-2017)




Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)