2020-07-04 Big Mac

Big Mac

Participants: Otto

Storyteller: Nakisisa

Location: Roof

Date and Time: July 4, 201- 1:30 am

Summary: Bodach vs Otto

Mood Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1wkfJY3AZM

Otto was pacing. Back and forth, coat swaying from side to side as he plodded in circles atop a roof with his erstwhile 'companion.' Ronald McDonald was tied up and stuffed into a corner beside the alley, and the Nosferatu was clearly conflicted as he waited for the man to wake up. Where he would normally allow his Obfuscation to flicker for dramatic effect, now it seemed more a lack of concentration. Odd parts would drop off and then reappear, as if the idea of 'Otto' and 'The Bodach' were in conflict with one another as he murmured and ranted to himself.

"It -must- be done. I played my hand too loosely. It would violate the Masquerade to let him live," he spat aloud, almost snarling, before immediately spinning on his heel to walk back the opposite direction. "But it was a promise. If you're willing to break a promise for something 'important' it opens the door to breaking a promise for something insignificant!" <English>

The victim one Ronald Fucking McDonald's nose is blood is dripping down onto that god damn clown suit. It is almost funny, the paint is caked with sweat blood and fear, he reeks like a victim of a beating, and fear, and one that saw the worst the world has in it. He does not wake up anytime soon, giving the Bodach so much time to debate, 2 hours. Than the eyes open with a groan of pain. "WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK!"

If his rant led to any conclusions, it wasn't apparent. If anything, it only served to further destablize his tenuous hold on the illusion of Otto. The full, lanky frame of his 6'7 form, full of messy and exposed tendons of muscle and multi-jointed limbs jutting from beneath the fabric of his coat a veritable patchwork of 'human' flesh as more and more of the bumbling hobo disappeared. "Look how he howls. Personal isn't the same as important. Imagine how many suffered at his hand. If there is -anything- to be done, it's - " The Bodach mused, unclasping his hands to gesture to the clown dismissively. Another spin as he padded back about, back and forth in front of the criminal.

"T-There's no -right-, look how long it's been. There's been no need for killing. This can be outthought... I just need more time," he replied. It had to be a replied. There was no reference to multiple personalities, but the display seemed all too much like a conversation between two people. He came to a stop, dropping to a crouch in front of Ronald and running a hand through his 'hair' to pull the disguise off. "Be quiet... let's talk. I think it may be the only thing that can save you." <English>

"What the fuck man, I man let me fucking go. I mean I aint' the fucking seen you vanish or that car break from ya or that weird shotgun girl. I mean ya'll got us all fair and fucking square and shit. I was like totally going to fucking go, and let nothing going the fuck on. Like man, let me the fuck go. I mean fucking hell.....your fucking cool as shit." The clown mutters trying to figure out all the ideas rushing around him, from those broken fucking memories.

"I want to... believe me," Otto admitted, his twisted visage forming into some kind of twisted frown - jagged teeth flashing through as the 'hobo' continued to evaporate. "What's your name? You're not... Ronald McDonald, I presume? Unless the Arches aren't doing nearly as well as we thought?" he asked, standing up and padding away slightly. His voice rose enough as his hands dropped to his sides, long and gnarled fingers curling about. Not quite into fists, but his nails raked the skin of his wrist as he seemed to tense up.

"It HAS to be done, you understand... w- I just want... I want you to absolve yourself. It's important. This can all be over. Why do you deserve to live?" <English>

"I'm a human aint' that a enough fucking reason you lonnely fucking tooney. I mean I'm fucking Timothy Buller." That fucking clown is grinning at him like he is crazy, knowing the crazy is easy to fucking deal with so filled with himself. The voice is young college age, surfer now that he looks closer. Perfect skin, and his abs seem to be very tonned through the outfit.

"Fuck them poor fucks, I need coke and weed, and that new fucking game." The kid speaks now as he chuckles softly, as he spits blood with a bit of tooth on the floor. It is fucking perfect, no damages, no cavity just a perfect fucking tooth. "The weak deserve it and the strong shall feast, ya know it's the way of the fucking world. If they matter they ain’t going to be fucking poor."

There's a sudden flash of anger and a burst of movement. Timothy is lifted from his seated position by a hand around his throat, and in an instant Otto returns - if nominally. His own teeth are a jagged mess of fangs and broken or rotted teeth, and he seems to shrink for an instant back to the hobo so familiar about Skid Row. "You should die then. How does it go, you must have seen it, Timothy. Do you read the Bible?" he asked, his grin widening as he extended the man over the edge of the alley. "Can you finish it? Ezekiel 25/17?" he snarled, squeezing the man's neck slightly as his entire body convulsed in rage. <English>

"It goes fuck your god, fuck your jesus, fuck your face, and I fucked your fucking mom with my 12 inch fucking cock bitch!" The clown spits it out as he giggles like a mad man. "Let me go and I'll let you watch me fuck your cuz and than I'll fuck ya sis. Than, I'll dig up your fucking grandamother, cause ya a bitch and I'll sire real fucking kids into your fucking line."

There's a frown, before jerking the man back out from over the ledge and slamming his head into the ledge. His aim is to use enough force to very seriously damage the man permanently, but it's also possible he's a little too forceful. Jerking him back up face to face he spits out in his own conflicted anger, voice modulating oddly with each word. "If the weak are victim to the strong, then this is where you die. That -isn't- how the world works. Look at you! Victim to a homeless beatnik. Is this how you imagined your end?" <English>