[ Independent rp blog for P1 Alfred. A plethora of bad words and shit of the like. Admin has privately asked Vidot for the usage of her arts, so please don't steal.
Or I'll beat the shit out of you. ]
[ Independent rp blog for P1 Alfred. A plethora of bad words and shit of the like. Admin has privately asked Vidot for the usage of her arts, so please don't steal.
Hey guys.
Been a while.
Here’s a headcanon post I made a while ago, faggot.
http://synergyst.tumblr.com/tagged/headcanon
Of course, some of the info is a tad dated and shit since at the time I was one of the only ones. Get bent.
Word to your mothers, bros.
(Source: prussian-superstar, via thatbritishgentleman-deactivate)
Oh damn.
‘Sup guys.
I wonder if I should look around for other P1 characters.
How unfortunate.
[He moves his fingers a little, trying to fix the angle so that he was comfortable holding his kinife. He shook his head, curling his broken hand around the knife and ignoring the sharp pain in his arm.]
I’m doing just fine, thank you very much. How about you come at me this time, hmm? Come on at me, child.
I know the upper hand, Art. I don’t even need to come at you for my bat to reach…oh, hmm…maybe your head.
[ He rolled his wrist, adjusting the bat in his grip. He raised it to be level with the man’s head. ]
Or maybe your chest.
[ He lowered the bat to now be level with the man’s ribs. ]
How do you think you’d do with broken ribs, huh?
[He looked up when the bat was held over his head, eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of it.]
Make up your mind, won’t you?
[He moved his hand over the knife, holding it behind his back as the bat moved once again.]
It would hurt, I bet, but not something I haven’t dealt with before.
[He smirks up at him.]
Go on and try.
[ Red eyes went to look the blonde over for a moment before bringing the bat back up to his shoulder. ]
You’re not feisty enough, Art. What’s the fun out of beating the shit out of someone who wants it, huh?
[ He sighed, continuing to pace around the other. ]
Leave it to Art to be a stick in the shit, right?
I want to ruin your body, though. It is a goal of mine.
[He takes his hand back when the bat hits him, looking at it and admiring the bleeding marks for a moment before going back to the task at hand: figuring out how to get to him again.]
I may not know, but I will find out one day.
[He twirls his knife in the same hand, ignoring the slight crack from a damaged bone inside.]
Can’t let that happen now, can I?
[ He paced in a circle around the other, twirling the bat in his hand. A smirk on his face upon hearing the sound of bone. ]
How’s that feeling for you, Art? Need to take a break or what? You know you’re fighting a losing battle with that shitty knife o’ yours.
How unfortunate.
[He moves his fingers a little, trying to fix the angle so that he was comfortable holding his kinife. He shook his head, curling his broken hand around the knife and ignoring the sharp pain in his arm.]
I’m doing just fine, thank you very much. How about you come at me this time, hmm? Come on at me, child.
I know the upper hand, Art. I don’t even need to come at you for my bat to reach…oh, hmm…maybe your head.
[ He rolled his wrist, adjusting the bat in his grip. He raised it to be level with the man’s head. ]
Or maybe your chest.
[ He lowered the bat to now be level with the man’s ribs. ]
How do you think you’d do with broken ribs, huh?
What made you think you were ever anything but a mere boy, Al?
Men shouldn’t be called cute, you’re right about that. But you’re far from the definition of a man, in this world. Cute suits you.
Now come along, boy. Off to the park we go.
//Pulls him along by his ear.
Don’t fucking touch me.
[ He smacked the man’s hand away. ]
Don’t ever fucking touch me. I’m more of a man than that poser blonde will ever be. Once I replace him, everything will fall into place for me easily. Even a fucking retard like you will have to listen to me. ‘Cute’ or not.
It’s just so adorable how much faith and determination you have in that goal of yours.
What’s with that look? Will you strike me, now? Strike with your scepter, oh profound second-rate king of this world.
Second rate? You’ll see soon enough, Art…Arthur.
I’m just as much a man as blondie over there. Just as much, and more.
What made you think you were ever anything but a mere boy, Al?
Men shouldn’t be called cute, you’re right about that. But you’re far from the definition of a man, in this world. Cute suits you.
Now come along, boy. Off to the park we go.
//Pulls him along by his ear.
Don’t fucking touch me.
[ He smacked the man’s hand away. ]
Don’t ever fucking touch me. I’m more of a man than that poser blonde will ever be. Once I replace him, everything will fall into place for me easily. Even a fucking retard like you will have to listen to me. ‘Cute’ or not.
Right, right~
[He takes the blow with ease, getting up after and yanking the knife out of the man’s shoulder. He throws his arm back and goes for his abdomen this time, the blow having done nothing but wake him further into reality.]
I could say the same thing about my knife.
No, no, no, Art, can’t have that shit scar my body.
[ He says casually as he took a few rushed steps back. He raises the bat once more and swings with more force at the man’s hand. ]
You have no idea what my body means to me.
I want to ruin your body, though. It is a goal of mine.
[He takes his hand back when the bat hits him, looking at it and admiring the bleeding marks for a moment before going back to the task at hand: figuring out how to get to him again.]
I may not know, but I will find out one day.
[He twirls his knife in the same hand, ignoring the slight crack from a damaged bone inside.]
Can’t let that happen now, can I?
[ He paced in a circle around the other, twirling the bat in his hand. A smirk on his face upon hearing the sound of bone. ]
How’s that feeling for you, Art? Need to take a break or what? You know you’re fighting a losing battle with that shitty knife o’ yours.
I would tell you to fuck off, but.
I think harming you would make up for it.
[He holds out his knife, smiling all too sweetly.]
How ‘bout it?
Oh, we’re playing this game, huh?
Okay, I’m all for it.
[ He holds out his bat, swinging it once to remember the feeling. ]
Like I said, come at me, loser.
Neither I nor you are the loser until one of us wins.
But you may just be the loser after I’m done with you~
[He takes one step forward, before running at him with his knife held ready over his head, taking a swing at him to try and jab his knife into his shoulder.]
No, I’m pretty sure you’re the loser.
[ He let the other’s knife sink into his shoulder before taking a step back and taking a wide swing, landing a hard blow to the man’s side. ]
Gotta be careful, Art, who knows where these nails have been.
Right, right~
[He takes the blow with ease, getting up after and yanking the knife out of the man’s shoulder. He throws his arm back and goes for his abdomen this time, the blow having done nothing but wake him further into reality.]
I could say the same thing about my knife.
No, no, no, Art, can’t have that shit scar my body.
[ He says casually as he took a few rushed steps back. He raises the bat once more and swings with more force at the man’s hand. ]
You have no idea what my body means to me.
