Search Results

Hello.

I'm pretty sure there are other Riku fans here so you'll easily make friends I suppose. Hope you become a active member and to see more of you.

Sounds good. You see anything interesting lately?

Rorschach: When may we greet them?

Not much yet, hear any good music lately?

Rorschach: Who's side are they on?

Sephiroth stood silently outside the Underdome waiting for the next match to take place.

Rorschach walked up to Zack.
Rorschach: Anything new?

Good enough, you?

Thanks. I hope I'll be able to get this story somewhere plot wise.
Chapter 2: Drunk on Sorrow

Masquerade found himself on the city's borders. The buildings loomed over him, sliding their shadows everywhere. Hiding the vermin that infected them. Slowly feeding off of them until there was nothing left but a hollow shell.

Posters ran around the buildings, poasters of wanted faces, lost loved ones, and suicide notes. The posters coverd the buildngs until it looked like their natural skin.

One building remained untouched, it's neon sign spelling, Big Al's Happy Beer Place. While it remained untouched by the signs of corrruption, it was just as corrupt as the rest, if not more.

Masquerade opend the brown, old, worn out door that served as entrance to the drunken Hell. Here the filth were not only drunk on their own beer, but their own misery.

The place got all types. All wishing to escape reality and if lucky enough that their debts pilled high enough, escape life. Though when they did, they would discover that life was the same after death. A living burning Hell with no pity or remorse for who it burned.

"What do you want?" a bald, skull-shirt wearing man asked. He seemed drunk. On beer...or misery. "I'm searching for someone, someone called Enigma," was Masquerade's hollow reply.

"Are you kidding me? Information like that don't come cheap. You sir, are going to have to fork something over, but what could you have that I want? I have a shop, beer, and a escape from reality," was the owner's, Al's, reply.

Masquerade hated the man's reply. "You want something else? Sure...," Masquerade said calmly as he lifted Al's arm off of his can of beer and suddenly there was a snap and...

"Now you have a broken arm," Masquerade said smugly. "Listen, man. Nobobody's gonna trade him out for you," Al said stammering. "Oh but this won't be a trade," Masqurade said as he grabbed Al's neck. "This'll be a steal!"

Masquerade threw Al out of the closed window. There was a crash as glass, man, an blood hit cold, merciless pavement. It seemed like somebody was trying to mutter "Son of a-," but before this sentence could be finished, Masquerade withdrew a Gun, shots were heard, and then the loudest of all the sounds that had been heard, silence.

"Now that that bloody buisness is over with, anyone know where I may find someone who knows where Enigma is?" Masqerade said as he pulled somethings out of his pocket and turned to a young, scared, man. He had fear in his eyes...

"The scared dog is usually the first one to yelp," Masquerade thought with some pleasure. He was sure this man knew that, also. This whole bar was just a tiny sink pit, there were bigger ones, but in order to purify this whole city from it's sickness he must clean all of it.

"How about you? You know?" Masquerade asked. "Back room," was the low life's only reply.

"Ony reply and it was a stuttering reply," Masquerade thought with some satisfaction.

"And just in case any of you get any ideas here's a treat. Take one and pass one back. Careful, you might wish to wait 'till the fourth of July to see those fire works," Masquerade said this as he opend a door behind the bar tenders counter.

Hey. What's up?

Hello. What's up?

Is it Little Big Planet or whatever it's called?

Is this awesome?

7 Make a thread insulting yourself and not spelling the insults right.

5 Make a thread about two year old news.

4-Make a thread just to troll with no purpose, humor, or even intellegent spam.

3: If the thread asks how you are dumb.

2: Call it a epic failure.