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jack_daniels (jack_daniels) wrote in manchester_rpg, @ 2010-06-25 20:28:00

Well... @#$#
Who: Jack and Jia
What: Making Friends and Impressing People...?
When: Around 3 pm
Where: A park on campus... with squirrels.
Warnings: R... a thousand times over R.
Status: COMPLETE

Blackness. The void. There was nothing in it, a dark, terrible emptiness that stretched to the depths of infinity. It was like sleeping and yet even in the sensation of sleep there was almost this sensation of self nagging at the edges of one's mind. But here there was nothing but the darkness, nothing but the emptiness draining everything from life. It was horrendous, unending... was this what death was really like? To give oneself over to emptiness, to be devoid of anything, of any feeling, of anything thought? To just simply... stop?

But that thought in itself gave way to others. If there was nothingness, why was it that he was thinking? Was that all there was left? Or would the thinking eventually lead to something else? As he thought about it, he began to feel something slowly starting to creep in at the edges of his thoughts, something that he knew the name of, but he couldn't quite place what it was. But he could feel it all the same, coiling around his thoughts like a snake, seeping into them, worming it's way inside of them, leading his mind from what he was trying to think about to that. There was a name for it... it was thoroughly unpleasant....

Pain.

Pain was the word. He could feel it slowly starting to radiate in his thoughts. Had he gone to hell? Was this what hell was like? Some sort of place where you did not understand anything, but felt agony, unknowning agony that you could not control? He tried to speak out against the pain, but there was no sound in this dark space. And attempting to speak only caused the pain to radiate, his torment starting to fuel the flames of it's burning. Burning was what was happening, it felt like he was in a fire now, he could feel the heat of it starting to fray at his mind. He tried to scream again, thrash against it, but he had no body, he had nothing but the blackness still....

No... that wasn't true. He could see something in the darkness now, a spec on the horizon. It was coming towards him, and it was the source of the agony. He tried to turn and run from it, but he had not body to move, and had he had one, the pain would have been so horrific it would have crippled him. The light came towards him like a blinding sun, absorbing him in it's heat, and flaying the skin from his body.

He let loose another horrific scream as the blue sky above him filled his vision.

He had eyes, and they were on fire.

He opened his mouth to scream again, but all that filled his ears was a dull ringing sensation. It didn't stop him from screaming. He rolled over on his side, and felt gravel from the street embed itself into his dermis, his skin having been burned from his body. He tried to twist but more embedded deeper into a different spot. He could feel himself trying to cry and yet there were no tears, his tear ducts had been fused shut. Slowly out of the ringing sensation that was filling his world, he heard a dull roar. As the ringing abated, the roar began to fill his ears, like the sound of a train coming down the tracks closer and closer to him.

It was the sound of him screaming.

It seemed disembodied from him, however, as if someone else where making it. and yet as it died off he felt his own chest move to gasp in air before he started screaming again. As he started to scream, however, something caught his eye. It was an arm. He recognized the wedding ring of his mother on the fingers.

The arm was not attached to a body.

The sickening realization halted his screaming, and feeling his body trembling with agony he pushed himself up slightly. His body had started to grow numb to the agony searing through him as he crawled on his hands and knees, feeling dirt embedding into the raw muscle tissue as he crawled towards the arm, and then further to where a body lay in the street a few feet from the arm.

"Mom?" he croaked with a throat raw from screaming. "Mom! Oh my god Mom, I'll get help, oh god, oh god..." Words spilled forth from him incomprehensibly, but her eyes stared blankly at him. He paused and felt his eyes straining as if trying to summon tears that wouldn't come. She wasn't looking at him, her eyes looked glassy. For a moment he was certain she was did.

Then in a heartbeat, her eyes snapped to him as she stared at him and spoke her last three words. "You're a monster..." They were followed by a blood curdling scream that filled everything.

---

Jack's eyes shot open and he had to turn to the side and grip his arms hard enough to draw blood to keep himself from vomiting right on the spot. Pain seared into him in a way that made his body forget about the sudden violent queaziness assaulting it, drawing on the pain instead to give him a focus. He let it envelope every last ounce of him until it was all he could feel. His head soon took over the responsibility as his body reminded him that he had a wonderful mother of a hangover.

"God damn goat fucking son of a romanian whore!" Jack growled as he reached a trembling hand over towards a bottle of rum that bore his name, knocking it over, grabbing it again only to let it slip from his fingers once more. "FUCK!" he snarled as he finally grabbed it, and pulled it, shakingly towards him, opening it as he leaned up to press it to his lips and toss it back, chugging it like he were in a frat initiation. Heat and pleasure began to flow over his body as he felt it burn it's way down into his stomach.

"Oh...fuck that's good." he muttered as he put the bottle back on the nightstand, feeling his headache starting to abate. The head shrinker that he'd been forced to see as part of a DUI he'd gotten had told him that the headaches were in his head, that his body showed no actual 'signs of alcohol' dependence. But then again that fucking pencil dicked pointdexter probably hadn't ever actually experienced real pain in his life. Jack knew what the fuck real pain was better than anyone, and what happened to him in the mornings was real.

Until that first, sweet, wonderful drink hit his lips.

That's really what addiction was about, he supposed. But fuck it, life was a chemical process. People were addicted to food, sleep, air. Fuck, these days people were addicted to raping little boys if they were catholic priests, it seemed, so who gave a shit if he had an issue with the bottle, or the X, or the mary jane. Uppers, downers, it was really all the goddamned same. He didn't hurt anyone, so fuck them all and their judgemental goddamned bullshit. They weren't any better than him because they weren't sporting a buzz. Fuck, they were just more annoying because they WEREN'T.

After a little one on one time with Rosey palm and her chicken-choking quintet, Jack headed towards the shower to wash the stickiness of the previous night partying off of him. The warm water felt good. It wasn't a fine glass of scotch, by any means, but it at least woke him up a bit. He dried himself half heartedly and stumbled out of the shower with the towel barely hanging about his waist as he made his way to the kitchen, pulling out a hip flask, one of many, from the cupboard and placed it on the counter. Placing a funnel on top of it he peeked his head into fridge.

"Way to assfuck me, God, Thanks." Jack growled as he pulled out the last can of Red Bull, and another bottle of Jack Daniels from the fridge, and poured a mixture of them into the funnel before clasping the top on it again to give it a good shake. He hadn't been awake an hour yet and still the day was starting to get him down a bit.

Growling, he pulled on a t-shirt that smelled relatively clean and bore the name of some rock band he hadn't listened to since the 2005, then pulled on a pair of jeans that the girls seemed to like on before grabbing a pack from his coat near the door and headed out the door. 30 minutes later, after being rudely informed that it was 2 pm and McDonalds and breakfast was only served until 10:30, he sat down at a park with a bag of good greasy food in hand. Taking a satisfying massive might out of a Big MAC made him feel better about the day as he lounged on a park bench. The sun felt good on his skin even if it was a bit annoyingly bright.

After halfway finishing his meal, he reached into his pocket and blinked, feeling a familiar pair of gloves. Smirking a little he wiped his hands on his pants, and slipped on a pair of prototype gloves he'd made a long time ago. twirling his fingers slightly he watched as sparks of electricity danced across the gloves, and his smile grew wider.

Nearby, his dark eyes spotted as a squirrel raised it's head and eyed the remains of his meals.

Doing his best impression of Emperor Palpatine, he chuckled in a throaty voice. "You want this... don't you?" he said, petting the half full box of greasy french fries. "I can feel your anger swelling..."

The squirrel chittered at him lightly. Gripping a napkin he grabbed a fry and tossed it in between him and the squirrel. It ran up and ate it, then chittered a little louder at him. He laughed again. "Good, good, your hate has made you strong. Now... fulfill your destiny and take your father's place at my side..."

Chittering again as he leaned a little closer, the squirrel ran back a little farther from where it and chittered loudly at him again.

Jack's smile faded from his face. "So be it....Jedi," he growled, thrusting his hands forward to send a shot of lightning a few inches from the squirrel. Like most animals in such a situation it started to book it as he shot another bolt at it, always a few inches from where it was as it ran, calling out loudly after it. "If you will not be turned, you will be destroyed!"

As it finally scampered off out of sight, he pulled his gloves off and tucked them back into his pocket. "Well... fuck. Now I'm bored." he said, to no one in particular.