Icon of Coil: you got a cold? [sickboy]

July 13, 2002

you got a cold? [sickboy]

[atlantic city boardwalk]

Dancer watches the waters swirling, the spray of lights from casino's behind mocking the fish that swim (crawl) beneath the surface, mismatched eyes falling to half mast in midst the heroin dream that thumps (pulsing) through veins, music of the waves crashing against the pier lilting in this waking nightmare, the splinters of the railing at war with elbows, leveraging against his weight

It creeps up on you. that smell. Like rotting garbage. so faint really, that you cant locate it, or even determine if it is truly a scent, or just a half forgotten memory from someplace, yet, it is there. The Ragged man walking slowly along he side walk, in torn coat, and heavy filt hat seems to be near stumbling, coughing at every other step. Avoided, shunned by mortals that pass by [Yuck, watch out, you might catch it, whatever it is!] It gives him his own nice wide berth of the boardwalk. He pulls to a stop, watching the man leaning on the railing with a sort of sly grin, showing the holes where teeth has long rotted and fallen out. he simply stands there, in the midst of a thronging humanity, watching him (Asher).

those eyes (uneven, one light, one dark) fall further closed as the stench washes past as if searching something new out at sea, chest swelling in time with the next shorebreak to fill with the scent (it clings, oily, within his lungs), pink tongue reaching to stroll across even white teeth, studying it, listening to the tune it inspires along his nerves (when so many others would recoil)

That is one, thats for sure. With a gleeful smile, he walks closer to Asher, to lean on the railing a few feet wide of him, smacking his lips. now, this close comes the sound as well... a buzzing of flies, that seems so far away. up close, you can surely see the bloated belly hidden partially under the torn coat, the fetid, pus filled blisters can be glanced under his torn t-shirt. "HeeHee.. you are one... One of the chosen... Dark Blessings on you..." Voice no more then a toads croak it seems. The smell stronger when he is this close, sickening to the pure, and innocent, but sweet incense and honey to the chosen ones, the others that has seen the wonders of the Dark spiral, who has danced in its maddening arms.

he waits for the cue of more weight upon the railing, twisting (unhinging)to drape himself backwards against it, smile slashing wider across his features, bathing in the rot riddled chorus that preceeds the the dessecration that, now, graces him with its presence
"And a Blessing just as Dark would grant its attention on you, brother."
there is no mistaking what tickles his olfaction to attention, the crooned words a thick, smooth, velvet

Another sick giggle, to dark, purple tounge wetting bloated lips. "I have seen into the Dark lords eyes my brother... And I saw a wonderful world of bloated Gaian's and sheep... Have you seen it too? What do they call you in the tunnels?" He idly scratches at the wooden railing with cracked fingernails, leaving black marks. The blackness slowly spreads out just a little, to leave an unhealthy surprise for anyone touching it later, the plague of the wyrm given reign once more.

it brings a soft chuckle (hyena) to escape the softly smiling lips, chin lifting to stretch, to lift into the ill wind chilling his chest before pushing past to follow the thick scent to sea
"Grra'ak.....Dances-In-Blood"
a murmur so soft it near wraps only around himself, slitted eyes drug back to what rots beside him
"I dream the world that soaks in spill of such sheep.....and what is it the tunnels whisper when you arrive....."

HeeHeeHee... they call me Plague-Bearer... Servitor of Maeljin.. but my brothers, sisters and freaks... call me SickBoy... HeeHee... But.. my sibling of madness... I must admit.. I am lost..." he reaches up to scratch the stubble at his chin, flakes falling off. He opens his mouth wide, in a yawn, showing where his cheeks have rotted through. From inside his mouth suddenly, a couple of flies zip out, buzzing around his head, before then land on his face, to crawl back up into his nostrils.

"SssssssickBoy"
the sound rolled off his tongue, wrapping it around the appelation, as if in itself there is pleasure (indulgence) uneven eyes watching the journey of the flies
"And how is it you find yourself lost? Perhaps I can spin a tale to help you find your way...."

A soft whine almost, but not a complaining one, one of pleasure, as a few of the blisters burst, to stain the already icky shirt he wears more. "I come from the dark lands now... a place ripe with the plague of the wyrm already... now.. I find myself without the tunnels.. without the company of other Dancers... I crave the enlightened company of others of our kind... instead of these pukes that flitter around us... I am lookin for a pack to join.. one that can enjoy the simple pleasures... of terror and decease... like no other... "

a brow lifts, further (two in one week, what a prize) to hear the words spilling from the fetid wound of SickBoy's mouth, the idle consideration of his wants
"Kaj'sha may then have use for you....."
an excitement (bloodlust) glimmering in bi-colored eyes
"Though I will have to charm him from your looks....."
coy, smug, he knows how Kaj will react to seeing this one (and a part of him craves to watch that delicious reaction)

blinks. tilts his head, showing strands of greasy oily black hair under the filt hat. "Charm who? im a charmeeeeer... Trust me.." grins and wiggles his brows, enough to send another few flies out of his nose to buzz angrily around his head, before vanishin into him again. "Besides... I play a wicked game of Dance on corpses... HeeHee" But he seems very pleased indeed, inching closer to Asher, sniffing at him, dragging in that scent of the true devotion.

he reaches, to drag the tip of middle finger down the (slick) bridge of Bearer's nose, pulling away to rub it against his thumb, smear the scent for keeping, for later sharing
"You may be a little wet for his tastes...."
allowing the scrutiny of Sickboy's senses of his own, soft words seduction from glib tongue
"But I am sure he will see past it to the glory you may bring with skills, with capabilities..... ohhhhh with the wicked, wicked games you can play..."

HeeHeeHeeHee... I can play with my skull... indeed... What is your totem my brother? Who do you follow in this wicked wicked and oh so loverly darkness of ours?" he snakes his tounge out once more, so very very long, to lick at the bridge of his nose where Asher touched him, tasting him, and smiling a crooked, happy smile, so disgusting it is beautiful, for those who appreciate it.

a pleasure (twisted) fills him to see such happiness (sick glee) in the newest ally to meet in such a strange, strange place, watching purple tongue coil up infront of SickBoy's face
"We follow G'luough.... she guides us through the Darkness....."

*another gleeful smile, and a quick nod. "Exellent! Such is the nature of dark wonders.. truly... My lady Yul, and Lord Collum will surely be pleased now..." He crouches down, facing out across the oceans, giggling to himself as he lifts his shirt, to reveal the true extent of the sickening stomach of his, bloated, and with a cross like split in the middle. a split, that suddenly widens, to spill out a noxious torrent of bodily fluids, flies eggs, and pus into the sand below, quickly sinking in to fester deep. he lowers his shirt again, and straightens up. "Look.. you made me all exited now..." So peeing on a lightpost is obviously out of the question hmm?

((That was priceless *wiping tears*))

a brow lifts, craning to watch the birth of Sickboy's children into the ground (oh, to see Kaj's face) that dark pleasure still roiling beneath his skin to see another in such (indulged) rapture
"But excitement is what drives us, no?"

"YesYesYes.. it is... Ahh.. can you taste it.. the wonderful smell of Gaia rotting from within... this place is ripe.. for the blessings of Yul and Collum.." He moves right up to Asher, and then crouches down again, by his leg, to show he bears no intention of trying to establish power over his would be pack-mate. "Will you take my blessing Grra'ack?"

the youth's body languid against the railing (predator waiting) reaching, as Breaker returns, fingers plucking through oily hair, arranging several strands in haphazard pattern (acceptance, this initial offering of loyalty - should it all pass Kaj's judgement)
"In words I could accept such a gift..... but not in body..... not yet.... you must be accepted by Kaj before I can take more."
a logic, not insult, he will not bear his Alpha's wrath for making a decision not his, (molestation) affection in his touch
"Do you understand?"

He clicks his tounge against his remaining teeth, seeming to ponder, before nodding. "I do.. and no offence taken by me or Yul or Collum... Plenty of time to give blessings later... yes?" He cranes his neck into the touch, before slowly standing, grinning and licking his lips. "Tell me Grra'ack... Are there... fun to be had in this city?"

the coy lips sneer into a much wider smile
"Oh yes...... what is it you've in mind?"

He seesm to ponder this for a few moments, sniggering to himself. "I dont know... I want to... see terror... Taste flesh... Perhaps..." He looks up at Asher, grinning. "Perhaps, we can find a child... yes?"

his head tilts, in consideration, already the visions dance before mismatched eyes
"Perhaps...... though it is late.... all children tucked safely home in bed...."
the words lingering, a tease to provoke, to learn more of what (indulges) drives this prospect

he grits his teeth noisly, and spits out some yellow-greenish sludge on the ground before him. "Is there... a place of gathering? A disco perhaps.. or a nightclub... where lots of sheep gather.. to receive the blessings of pestilence?" he snickers some, the taste of human, especially childs flesh nearly overpowering him for a moment, hunger rising within him. "Or perhaps... we might even find a little... dare I say it.. Gaia'n... to pleasure all night long.... before we wear its intestines as necklaces?" He grins wickedly.

the body drops to a crouch, arm sweeping to the boardwalk held from the ocean by the beach on which they crouch
"There is a wealth to bless, Sickboy.... but choose wisely, the walking dead watch, and may not approve..... and we cannot leave any loose ends."

"HeeHee.. you are right.. the Veil is good.. the Veil is needed... Can we play with the dead too? I have a special surprise for them.. I can bless them with my skull! So they too will bring my blessings on.. without ever knowing it..." he laughs, a throaty screeching that doesnt really carry. He straightens slowly. "Lead me Brother.. show me the wonders of this place, so that we may bring tyhem to the Lord's attention..."

"There is a greater purpose, Sickboy, we must wait for the right time, yes?"
chuckling softly the enthusiasm in which the other shows (fanatic loyalist)
"Come with me..... I will find you a toy....."
just as he did for Sian, steps overtaking the sands to return them to paved roads

"Wee... You are good to your brother Grra'ack..." He follows Asher, hunched as he walks, followed only by that...Stink that is like honey to Asher, but suffocating to others. Every other step, a drop of pus, or bile is left behind in his wake, exitment spilling through, staining the front of his shirt with the crawling innards of his belly.

the shift of winds renew Sickboy's stench in his nostrils, muscle making them flair as lungs are filled (bathed) once again, the slow chuckle vibrating his throat
"There is loyalty among the ranks, Bearer..."
mismatched eyes (future and past) scanning ahead, to pick one that will not be missed

he nods his consent... "Always Loyalty... always honor.. until the day we feast upon the Gaian's flesh, and dance upon the rotting carcass of the earth." Fanatic indeed, it shines through, and gives him credit. A few flies launch themselves from his mouth as he speaks, buzzing silently around him, ever vigilant.

the low chortle vibrates, almost soundlessly, smug, in the hollow of his throat, watching a woman, alone, stroll towards a car in the far end of a parking lot
"What of that one.... there...."
chin, so smooth and clean compared to his shambling companion, lifting to point her out through draw no attention

He licks his lips, gaze drawn to the woman, as moth's to a fly. He nods, slowly, and grins a half toothed grin, a little bit of spittle already dribbling from the corner of his mouth in anticipation. "Very sweet... shall we.. taste her... or bless her..?" He reaches to scratch at his stubble again, once more showering the ground beneath with dry deceased flakes.

murmured, softly, almost not carrying the short distance to his companion
"There are many eyes that pry, here...."

He looks around, licking his lips, and nods. "Then... lets follow her home. Who knows.. we might get two, or even three.. for the price of one eh?" Grins up at his companion, his voice as low as Asher's barely a supressed giggle.

"Goooood boy...."
pleased, with how his companion is unfolding, but there is still much to learn, much to see (so much more to enjoy)
"Will you find us a car to follow her in?"

He ponders for a while, then nods, looking around. A van parked not long from where they stand will suffice. Sickboy winks up at Asher, and bustles off. Checking it quickly, he touches the car door, and it clicks open. he slides in, unlocking the other side, and waits for Asher to take the passenger seat, before the Van starts up. "Ohboyohboyohboy.... Cant you taste her already?" Another line of spittle dribbles from his chin, to land on the seat before him, immidiatly starting to corrode it. Watching the woman pull away in her car, he grins, and begins to follow. sick pleasures after all, are the best, no?

[forced pause..... Sickboy and Asher followed her home, Sickboy had his fun while Asher stood guard, left the house looking like a robbery gone wrong - turned assault/murder, neither have fingerprints, no loose ends, nothing to trace. Asher lifted some jewelry to complete the coverup]
Posted by asher at July 13, 2002 12:00 AM

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