Kyle
Full Member
And it don't mean nothin' at all.
Posts: 218
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Post by Kyle on Jul 23, 2011 22:24:23 GMT
"Come on!" A loud voice shouted out inside the Zhu family manor. "You're takin' forever just to get ready; it's like you're fucking woman! Hurry the fuck up!" The source of the voice was pacing incessantly in the foyer of the manor, a deep scowl on his face. "Oh shut the hell up. Why are you even here again?" The familiar voice of Yifeng asked crossly. "Why am I here you ask? I'm here because you've been fucking moping around for like two weeks now. How the fuck am I supposed to enjoy myself when my drinking buddy won't even leave his fucking house. Fucking bullshit."
The figure of Yifeng eventually made his way out to meet his aggressive guest, dressed in fine robes and looking as well as he had in last two weeks. "You say I take a long time to get ready? Look at you, Wengui." The louder man turned red in response to Yifeng's comment. "And what about the way I'm dressed? I look damn better than you and it only took me half the time to get ready, dick." Yifeng shook his head, chuckling lightly. "Remind why it is that I associate with you, Pan Zhang?" "Because I am the reason for everything good in your life, jackass! Now come the fuck on! There'll be no seats if we don't hurry up!" Yifeng simply sighed and waved Wengui on, following the uncouth man to wherever he was planning on taking him.
It was the average night in Jian Ye: hot, humid, and busy. The streets still bustled, the city's nightlife taking over. The taverns and brothels were alight and full of patrons satisfying their vices; the performers in the streets busked to make their living under the torchlight. Yifeng truly did love Jian Ye; it was his home and he always wished it to be, despite the fact that he also wished with all of his heart that he could leave it. But he wasn't allowed to dwell on that tonight -- not this night.
Wengui did not know what had occurred between Zhongmou and Yifeng, all he knew was that Yifeng had been avoiding their leader like the plague. To remedy the apparent depression of his friend, and most importantly, drinking buddy, Wengui decided that he needed to get Yifeng out of the house Wengui also hoped that he could get Yifeng to tell him what was going on with him and Zhongmou. He had never known them not be on good terms -- really good terms. It was killing him not knowing what was happening. However, Wengui quickly lost sight of his goal as the two of them made their way to the destination he had in mind. The man was much too concerned about all the attention they were receiving.
Wengui loved going places with Yifeng. The Prime Minister of Wu tended to draw attention when going out and about, and Wengui was all about receiving attention. Even if he had not been traveling with Yifeng, he was dressed so grandly that he could be mistaken for Sun Quan from afar. As he strutted along confidently, Yifeng hung back slightly, still thinking about Zhongmou, wishing he had someone to talk to about it, wishing that he could forget about it.
They walked on for a while longer, Yifeng not really paying attention to his surrounding, lost in his own mind as he slowly meandered after Wengui. Unfortunately for Yifeng, paying attention at this juncture would have benefited him greatly. Wengui was still basking in the glory of being paid attention to everywhere he went with Yifeng in tow. In fact, he did not even notice that his companion had yet to notice and subsequently complain about how shitty their surrounding environs were becoming. Looking back to check and see if Yifeng was still even there, Wengui scowled at how melancholy the man appeared to be. "We're supposed to be having a good time tonight, ass, not walking about in a daze, thinking pensive thoughts."
Yifeng looked up from the ground to see Wengui's disgruntled face, sort of half smiling at the sight. That did not last long; though, as he soon realized just where they were. Looking around quickly, noting all the rough, poor people glaring at them, Yifeng turned red with frustration at Wengui. "What the hell are we doing [i[here[/i]?! You said we were going somewhere 'nice'. This is not somewhere fucking 'nice', Pan Zhang!" Wengui chuckled at the man's belated reaction to the situation. "You only call me by the name Zhang when you're fairly upset, Zhu Ran. See, I can do that shit too. Now quit complaining, it's impossible to have a good time in those upscale places you and Quanny boy always go to."
Yifeng scowled slightly at the mention of Sun Quan, quickly casting his gaze aside and downward, not wanting to be so obvious in front of Wengui. "Somethin' goin' on between you two or somethin', Yifeng? I haven't seen you two together in a while." Yifeng's scowl deepened. How dare he bring that up? Prick. "That is certainly none of your business." The words were sharp, and blatantly exposing the truth of the matter. There certainly was something going on. Wengui shook his head, receiving the response he had expected. "Alright, alright, whatever; don't get your panties in a bunch. Yifeng crossed his arms and exhaled angrily. "It smells like fucking poor people around here."
Wengui immediately burst into laughter at his friend's closing comment. "Really? Really, 'it smells like poor people'? That's what you had to say in rebuttal? Too good, Yifeng, too fucking good. Now I remember why I bother hanging out with a prude like you." Yifeng offered no response, his head turned away from Wengui. "Cheer up, dick, we're here." Wengui pointed to the place; it was literally the shittiest shithole Yifeng had ever laid his eyes on -- ever. And he had seen some shitty places in Jiang Ling. "What-the-fuck Pan Zhang. . . ." Yifeng immediately turned around, completely set on leaving and going back home.
Wengui would have none of that, though. He grabbed the man by the arm and dragged him over to the door. "Oh no you don't, boy. You're going to go in here and have a fucking great time. We'll show these pussies how real men drink. Besides, I always make a killing off of you. No one expects someone like you to be able to hold their drink. So come o-" "You fucking place bets on me?! What the hell? Where's my share of these fucking winnings? Dick -- you are a total dick, Pan Zhang." Wengui laughed loudly and robustly once again; upsetting Yifeng was endlessly entertaining. "Look, I'll get you ever last piece of gold that we make off of you tonight, alright? Hell, not like you need it anyway, mister Prime Minister. Greedy fuck." Yifeng turned red once more, "Greedy?! Do you know how much of my money goes to the state?! Almost fucking all of it!"
"Alright, alright! Just shut up, damn! You're making a scene." Yifeng looked around and saw that pretty much everyone was staring at the two of them. It was bad enough that they were dressed so ridiculously finely, but words like "Prime" and "Minister" used together tended to draw attention, much more than was wanted. His face was still red, but now it burned out of embarrassment. "This is all your fault, asshole." He said quietly to Wengui who simply laughed heartily in return. "It's so easy to get you upset, Ran-Ran." "What did you just call me? Ran-Ran? What the hell is that, are you six? Bah, fuck it, whatever, order some drinks; I'm not talking to these people."
"Jesus, dude, you're such a dick sometimes, settle down." Wengui dragged Yifeng over to a table in the center of the tavern. . . shack, what have you. Everyone was still looking at them, it was completely silent. Wengui waited for approximately three seconds for a bar wench to come over and offer to bring them drinks and when that did not happen, he flew into a rage. "YOU!" He said, standing and pointing his finger at the nearest one with such force that it would have torn her asunder had it landed on her. "You see that my friend and I are without drinks, ARE YOU FUCKING DAFT?! DO YOU WANT TO DIE?! YOU STUPID FUCKING B-" He was cut off by a blow from behind, a rather large man who obviously had little patience for a little guy like Pan Zhang's posturing.
He stumbled forward a few steps, a wild look in his eyes, a taste for blood now overcoming him. "So THAT'S how we're gonna play it tonight, huh?" He turned around, grabbed Yifeng's sword from its sheath before Yifeng had any time to react and held it to the man's throat before he even had time to move. "I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU! And after that, I'm going to FUCKING KILL THAT CUNT OVER THERE WHO DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO DO HER JOB PROPERLY!" Yifeng was stunned in his chair, unsure of what was even happening. God damn it Pan Zhang, save this shit for another time. Shaking himself of his shock, Yifeng stood up to try and assuage the situation, but it was too late.
As soon as he made it to his feet, his beautiful ornate jian was pushed into and through the soft flesh of the man that had attacked Wengui from behind. Yifeng turned away slightly, as bar wenches screamed, while the one that was sentenced to die by Wengui fled out the door without a second thought. The man fell to the floor, grabbing at his now open throat, gargling and choking on his own blood. Wengui reached down and wiped the man's blood off on his clothes and handed the sword back to Yifeng who accepted it with shaking hands.
Wengui looked around the tavern and noticed that no other challengers were coming forward. Content that the situation was solved, he turned back to Yifeng smiled. "Well, now that that's out of the way, we can finally have a good time." Yifeng simply shook his head, rubbing his temples with his thumbs. What the absolute fuck, Wengui? Wengui paid no mind to his companion's discomfort and called out forcefully to another bar wench. "Hey you!" The woman immediately cowered, dropping the wine she jug she had in her hand. "What are you doing something stupid like that for? Bring us some drinks, you dumb bitch. The woman quickly ran to get another jug of win, placing it on the table with shaking hands, tears running down her face.
Yifeng simply rolled his eyes and looked down at the now dead man lying directly next to his chair. Turning back to the wench he said in an annoyed manner, "Uh, can you get this body out of here and clean this mess up?" He looked back over to the man, noting the blood making its way for him and added, "He's about to get on my robes. . . ." The woman shook her head affirmatively, unable to speak. She went and began to gather rags and other such materials while other employees, slaves, whatever they happened to be in this seedy place, came over to remove the body and assist in the cleanup.
Yifeng had no love for women or poor people, so the people here were of little consequence to him. He would have absolutely preferred if Wengui had not killed anyone, or even threatened anyone, but he knew that was not going to happen. It's probably for the best that we went here, not somewhere nice. Looking back at the table, which was pretty much a shitty plank of wood on some other planks of wood of equal or shittier value and shook his head. He looked back over to the cleanup in process and addressed one of the wenches. "Ahem, uh, yeah, this one jug of plum wine will not do. I am going need much more than this. Oh and, I am going to need something stronger, bring as much rice liquor as you have. Soon would be preferable." He smiled curtly at the woman, and turned back to Wengui was well on his way to finishing the wine.
"I don't think I'll be forgiving you for this for a while, Pan Zhang." The man stopped mid drink and placed the wine back on the table. "Oh come on! Everything's fine now! It was one little upset, and I didn't even kill the bitch. Look, everyone is already going about their business already. Nobody cared about that guy! He was probably a dick or something." Wengui reached over and slapped Yifeng on the shoulder firmly. "That wench is back with our real drinks, come on, let's have a good time." Yifeng rolled his eyes and sighed. "You are clearly insane, Wengui." He looked over just as the woman placed several flasks and jugs on the table. She looked nervous, but she waited to see if they would request anything else of her. The last thing she wanted to do was upset either of them. Yifeng looked at her with annoyance, but then his gaze softened, he almost felt bad for her so he reached into one of his robe's pockets and pulled out three gold pieces, probably more than she had ever seen in her wretched, miserable life. "Here," he said, holding them out to her, "take these and get away from this shithole or something. Or stay, I don't care either way."
The woman looked shocked, with wide eyes, she cautiously accepted the coins from Yifeng. "Th-thank you, sir!" "It's nothing really, just go somewhere else now." "Y-yes, yes I will! Thank you again." The woman hurried out of the shack and likely never returned. Yifeng looked over at his left now, the body had been taken out and most of the blood taken care of. Being as content with the situation as he possibly could be, he turned back to Wengui and shrugged. "Well, I might as well start out drinking everyone in the building now." Grabbing a flask of rice liquor, Yifeng began numbing his stress about the current situation, and trying to keep the Sun Liao-Zhongmou one out of his mind.
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Post by Sun Quan on Jul 24, 2011 15:00:41 GMT
Sun Quan was drunk. Stinking drunk. Probably the drunkest he's been since he told Sun Quan of his assassination of his late brother. He wasn't belligerent, at least not yet. And he was having a rousing good time with Guan Shao, who was equally drunk, having consumed probably about twice as much as Quan himself had.
They were sitting at the large table in the room adjacent to the throne room. On the table stood a dozen flasks, only one still filled. Quan clapped and another tray was brought forth, erstwhile the last flagon was tipped and drained. Quan quaffed the drink, and felt his head swim.
A guardian walked in at this point, his head down, his gait long. He crossed the distance from entrance to table in three quick strides, falling to his knee and saluting his lord as was expected. His voice trembled as he brought the news that required his drunken lord's decision.
"Lord Quan... There has been reports of a murder in the slums... Tiger's Bottom. The report is of our Prime Minister and his guardian, Pan Zhang, having murdered a patron of the bar for no real reason.
What would you bid us do?"
Quan seemingly sobered within mere seconds of the mention of the Prime Minister. His oldest friend, estranged since he tasked him with the simple act of killing his nephew. How hard was it to murder someone? Not very, he knew personally!
He stewed for a minute. This was apparently the moment he would be forced to bring his Prime Minister to heel. It was past time that he remembered who his best friend was... and past time that he knew who his lord was.
He clapped twice and another two places were set at the table. The wenches immediately went to go fetch food afterwards, and Quan spoke directly to the man again.
"Bring him and his friend to me. Not in irons, no. Ran would not deny an audience from me. But should he show some resistance... well, tell him that I am not in a happy mood."
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Kyle
Full Member
And it don't mean nothin' at all.
Posts: 218
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Post by Kyle on Aug 3, 2011 2:19:18 GMT
After some time of everyone in the shithole tavern being on edge, wondering when next the apparently insane Wengui would fly into a murderous rage again, a few of the braver patrons decided to come over and have drinks with the two completely out of place men. This was mostly due to Wengui's insistence, and it seemed that no one there wanted to upset him by not obliging his request. Everyone seemed to be having a decent time, despite the fact that someone had been murdered there perhaps only an hour ago. Wengui, of course, was enjoying himself the most out of everyone, boisterously carrying on. This was likely due to the fact that he was completely hammered.
He and Yifeng wasted no time in emptying any bottle or flagon brought before them. They didn't even bother with having the other patrons place bets on whether Yifeng could out-drink them or not. After that fiasco when they arrived, they both just wanted to get trashed. And so they did. Just as a wench brought forth some more drink, one of their new friends passed out, completely blacked out. "Hahahah! Yifeng, get a load of this guy, what a pussy!" Yifeng chuckled, feeling somewhat bad for the man. "Well, that is what happens when you try to keep up with me. Oh well, I guess that means that his drink is mine now." The now fairly shitfaced Prime Minister of Wu reached over to grab the man's cup, and just as he made contact with it, a few someones came into the shack.
Yifeng glanced over, and much to his dismay, he saw a group of city guards. What the absolute fuck? "Hey! Come over and have a drink guys!" Wengui jovially called out to the men, completely unaware of their reasons for being there. It honestly did not register in either of their brains that the guard was there to apprehend them. Wengui literally killed people all the time in violent rages and never had Zhoungmou --ever -- paid any mind to the reports. Why would he care about some poor, slum dweller? The guards looked uncomfortable, it was obviously not an ideal situation, and they worried about what Wengui might do once he learned their reason for being there.
"Uh, well, actually, General Pan, Prime Minister Zhu, we were sent here by our Lord Sun Quan to bring you to the palace. He was not pleased by the report of murder here. He has requested that you come without further incident."
Wengui's smile immediately faded, a look of confusion quickly replacing it. "Wait, wha-" His question was caught off by Yifeng, who was clearly enraged. "Tell him to go fuck himself." Everyone in the room got wide-eyed, some even found their mouths agape. Even Wengui was shocked. "Whoa, Yifeng!" The guard looked even more uncomfortable now, as if the situation wasn't bad enough.
"Uhh, well, uh, we cannot do that, sir. We were told to inform you that if you refused that our Lord is not pleased with you at the moment. We-"
"Not pleased? With me?! Of all the fucking ridiculous things that I could have ever heard in my entire life, this -- this is the most ridiculous! Oh, suddenly he cares about the nameless victims of Wengui's rage? Suddenly we should be brought to the palace regarding the matter? What a stupid fucking dick! He is the least subtle man I know; what a fucking childish power play he is pulling." Yifeng was trying to contain himself, but he was so overwhelmed by rage, by utter indignation. As if he hadn't done enough to me, as if he hadn't already betrayed my trust and friendship. Now this? Now I'm to be escorted back to the palace by the city guard rabble? I will never forgive you for this slight, Sun Zhongmou. "What, what a fucking asshole." Yifeng's last statement was said in whispered, defeated voice. What else could he do but hate Sun Quan?
The tavern was still, no one said anything; they all simply looked at one another with apprehension. Would the Prime Minister be accosted by these guards? Would his violent friend try to kill them? Would the guards inform Sun Quan of what was said by his Prime Minister? No one knew at this point -- not even the guards. In the seemingly frozen tavern, one made made a most unexpected move.
Wengui got up from his seat and walked over to Yifeng, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "Come on Yifeng. You can be angry all you want, but it's not like we have much of a choice but to go, ya know?" Wengui knew that the situation was entirely his fault; he would never admit that aloud, but he was well aware that he caused all that was now happening. Of course, he was upset that Sun Quan would now care about his activities, but alas, there was nothing that could be done now. "Yifeng, we should go."
The guards, who had instinctively readied their weapons, were shocked by Wengui's actions. They were fully expecting to be assaulted and that a fight to the death would ensue. Needless to say, they were relieved. Yifeng held his face in his hands, trying to sift through all of the swelling emotion in his head. The alcohol in his system was not making this process any easier, his head was cloudy; he couldn't think. God damn it. He stood up, his face betraying his emotions, a great sorrow in his bloodshot eyes. He was so enraged, yet he knew there was nothing he could do.
"Very well, I suppose we should get going." He turned to look at the "tavern" owner, who was sitting with them as well. "Please, take this; it should cover any damages incurred here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cord of coins, one hundred in all. Yifeng placed the cord in front of the man and turned to leave, not bothering to pay any attention to the words of thanks the man was giving him. It mattered not; no amount of gratitude from a destitute man would make him feel any better. Wengui nodded to all of their drinking companions and then followed Yifeng out, followed by the cadre of guards.
The walk was a long one back to the palace, and Yifeng's head throbbed, dehydration punishing him for his indulgent drinking. He was no longer nearly as drunk as he had been, both he and Wengui sobering up quite a bit over the course of the very long walk. "This sucks." Wengui stated idly as they walked. "This is your fault, Pan Zhang." "Yeah, well . . . yeah, I don't have a retort for that, I guess." Wengui looked down at his feet as he walked. He did feel bad for putting Yifeng in such a position. He knew that Yifeng had been avoiding Zhongmou; he still didn't know why, but he knew this wasn't what Yifeng wanted.
"It doesn't matter," Yifeng said after a moment, "I would have had to see him eventually. Don't worry about it too much, Wengui; that pensive expression doesn't suit you." Wengui chuckled at his friend's words. "Yeah, I s'pose you're right about that." After that small exchange, silence settled over the party once more as they reluctantly made their way ever closer to their destination. We're almost there. Yifeng thought to himself as they approached the seemingly steadily growing palace.
Once they reached the palace, the guards dispersed, save for the one that Sun Quan had spoken with directly. The man led them into the large building, a building Yifeng once loved to be in, a building that he once felt more at home in than even his own manor. Now, he dreaded being there; his stomach twisted into knots at the thought of having to see Zhongmou. Not happy with me, huh? That damned bastard. Yifeng's thoughts were bitter, and his hatred was deep as he was led into the room where Zhongmou and Zhongku were. His eyes narrowed as he met Zhonmou's gaze for the first time in nearly two weeks, his black hatred flying out of them like daggers.
"Well, we're here, Zhongmou; aren't you so very pleased with yourself?" The words were bitter, not just to those who heard them, but they left a bad taste in Yifeng's mouth. Even in his rage, he hated that he was speaking such venom to his once truest friend. Wengui stood off to the side, looking uncomfortable at best. He had never seen Yifeng like that. What the hell is going on here? What could have happened between these two? They used to be so gay for each other.
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Post by Sun Quan on Aug 3, 2011 5:36:43 GMT
Quan sat in silence with Shao as he awaited his guard's return. It wasn't a happy silence, either, instead full of the constant and incessant tapping of Quan's pointer finger on the hardwood of his table. Shao watched with an irritated look at his lord, the man's hand on his face as he stared into space, the repeated up down of his finger's drumming filling the hall with dull thuds.
Shao could barely stand it, and nearly exploded with fury. Instead, he centered himself, exhaling deeply, and pushing himself from the table slightly.
"Why did you do that? What purpose does bringing him here serve? Let him drown his sorrows, he'll get over it all eventually."
Quan's head nearly snapped with the force of it turning, his eyes piercing into his loyal guard's skull with an intent to bore a hole directly through it. Shao recoiled from the movement, his body moving away from the stare as if it's presence was physical. Quan's finger stopped, the knuckles growing white as he pressed it into the table. Shao wondered if it would leave a mark, that's how hard that shit was pressed down.
Quan exhaled, and folded his arms in front of him. He continued looking at his man, making him feel insignificant, destroying whatever vestiges of doubt he had. It was Quan's way. He would bully anyone around him into his line of thought when he was in one of his mood's, and that's exactly what this situation with Ran put him in; an awful fucking mood.
Why? Why did he care if Ran didn't like him? It never made a difference with anyone else. What was one more lost friend, one more (metaphorical) corpse on the pile?
He was the only man Quan truly trusted and liked. Ran meant the fucking world to Quan, and the man would never understand how hard it had been for him to do what he did to him. Quan's mind drifted to that day, the planning of his cousin's death...
He stood and walked over to the man. His mind was roiling, hundreds of thoughts flowing through his mind all at the same point. What should I do? Should I reprimand him? Should I hit him? Should I embrace him, make a point of what he said as being what I desire in my officers? IS that what I desire in my officers? No. No it is not. I desire obedience. I guess I shall hit him. Le Sigh.
Quan's hand had stung after that. However, his face betrayed nothing as he spoke his peace and left the meeting, telling the men to figure out the details. He retreated to his personal room and sat in the middle of it, drinking from a flask and holding his hand in a bowl of cold water. It stung, and the mental hurt was just as large. Meng Dao came in shortly afterward.
"You're hurt my lord... was it lord Ran?"
Quan eyed him suspiciously. The man knew literally everything!
"Yes. I had to hit him. He showed disobedience in front of the younger generation and I need them fiercely loyal. If they were to ever learn about... anything, they would quickly rebel. I need to bind them to me with loyalty before our plans come unraveled."
"Good, my lord. Sacrificing your friendship with Ran is smart. He is dangerous. He knows to much of us."
Quan winced at the use of Us. He gripped his hand to cover it up, but he figured that Dao knew anyways. The man was too intertwined, but Quan had no choice; his advice was second to none. He knew everything that needed to be known, and knew how to read people perfectly. He was, for all intents and purposes, necessary.
Quan merely shook his head at his spider, but said nothing. The webs he wove were of indeterminate strength, but Quan ventured that they would stand stronger than steel if it came to that point.
As he drank himself into oblivion that night, one thing rang true; he must have his Yifeng. He must. He was his, by all rights, and Quan had earned him through a lifetime of friendship and good times. Who was he to get so pissy at a mere slapping. He had hit him much harder at other times, though those were always in private.
Quan's vision came back to him, and he realized that some small amount of time had passed as Shao looked at him strangely. His finger hurt where he had been pressing it into the wood, the joint stressed and pained from the act.
"Because all bad dogs must be brought to heel, Zhongku. You of all men should know that."
The stinging barb thrown at Shao obviously landed, as the man's eyes winced. Shao had once been unruly as well, but that was another story for another time, as the doors to the palace were thrown open, and the group entered.
They stank of cheap booze and filth, the two men having been gallivanting in Jian Ye in the scummiest of holes. Wengui looked as though he had imbibed half the stores of Jian Ye, though he also looked as though he could handle it. Ran, however, had imbibed what would equate to half the stores of Jian Ye, but looked as though he hadn't had a drink in months.
"Well, we're here, Zhongmou; aren't you so very pleased with yourself?"
Quan smiled. He motioned for the captain to leave them, and then kicked a chair away from the table, an obvious motion for the two men to sit. Shao stood and moved another chair, placing himself between Wengui and Quan, but giving Ran the seat directly to Quan's right. The act was obvious; Quan cared not a bit for that drunkard Pan Zhang.
The two men were served some good wine to remove the taste of the swill they had been imbibing. Quan merely looked at Yifeng as he was sat and hobbled. It was a minute or two after the drinks were poured, his own sampled and tasted. He mulled over the wine, looking at Ran the entire time, his face set decidedly to neutral.
"Nothing pleases me less than to bring you here under such circumstances. Guan Shao, please escort our friend Pan Zhang here to the dungeons. He shall be dealt with for his crime of murder when I see fit."
Shao stood and nearly palmed the man's head, his giant frame and non-intoxicated-ness more than easily overpowering the man in front of him.
Quan watched as the man struggled as he was taken away, but paid no heed to his declarations against Quan's actions. He went back to his wine, and looked at the more than likely seething Zhu Ran.
"Oh come on. You know I won't have anything done to him. I'm a merciless bastard but I know he's your friend as well. I only kill family members, don't you remember? Or has your lesson been forgotten so quickly?"
He set the cup down and leaned forward towards his best friend, propping his head on one arm as he set his other hand under the table to grasp Ran's own. He gripped the fingers there, and rubbed them gently.
"You and I have gone too long without speaking. I know what I did to you is inexcusable. You know why I had to do it, I hope; whereas loyalties such as yours are thicker tan by name, that little rat bastard Lu Xun has no real reason to follow me, other than his father saying that he's thrown in with the Sun clan.
I had to scare the little brat. He'll go home and tell daddy how fierce Sun Quan is, and hopefully the Lu clan will remain ours for a time longer."
Quan dearly hoped that Ran was understanding what he went through and why he had to do it. It was a rude gesture, slapping him like a common whore, but what was Ran to him anyways? They were more than just friends, and Ran was as aware of that fact as Quan was.
Quan's hand pulled back to grasp the flask of wine and top off their cups, intending to get himself a little drunk for the oncoming conversation as well.
"So why were you drinking in that slum? Why not a pleasure house, or somewhere... respectable?"
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Kyle
Full Member
And it don't mean nothin' at all.
Posts: 218
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Post by Kyle on Aug 7, 2011 0:44:16 GMT
Wengui thought to struggle against Zhongku at first, immediately angry by the situation. He had never been in trouble before, and he did not see why he would, or even should, be in trouble now. All I did was kill some worthless slum dweller. AND, he hit me first! Hey! I had forgotten about that, what the fuck?! As he came to this realization, Wengui thought to speak out, but he looked over to Yifeng and saw that is friend clearly did not want an altercation breaking out.
Yifeng was giving a stern look to Wengui, a silent plea to not fight back against Zhongku. He knew that in Wengui's current state he would lose with little effort on the part of Zhongmou's stalwart bodyguard. Wengui knew this as well, despite his almost overwhelming urges to try and fight the man off of him. Sighing heavily, Wengui relented and allowed himself to be taken out of the room.
Once they were a few strides down the hall, Wengui spoke up. "Hey! So what's goin' on with those two anyway? Yifeng won't tell me a damn thing about it. But you, you've gotta know something; you're around Quanny boy at all times. Speakin' of which, why the hell am I in trouble for killing some worthless slum urchin?! I know for a fact Sun Quan doesn't give a damn about that dead guy!" Wengui was angry all over again just thinking about how he was going to be put in a dungeon for something that shouldn't even be of consequence.
Back in the room, Yifeng's glare darkened as he looked at Zhongmou, face placid, pouring wine, being a gracious host. How dare he play he good guy in all of this? I suppose he wants me to feel grateful for this? As Zhongmou spoke his piece about only killing family members, Yifeng couldn't help but laugh quietly, shaking his head. It was not funny -- not at all -- but what else could he do but laugh? He was disgusted with what Zhongmou was.
He thought to get up and leave, and he was fully prepared to do so. He would stand up inform Zhongmou that his seal of office would be delivered to the palace the next day and that they would never be seeing each other again. In Yifeng's mind, that was to be the conclusion to this meeting, and their friendship. However, just as he thought to stand up, Yifeng was stopped. He was stopped by something he had not expected, something he wished did not matter to him.
As Zhonmou's hand touched his own, Yifeng froze. It felt as though his heart was in his throat as he sat there, unable to move. His hand trembled as Zhongmou caressed and played with his fingers. Yifeng did not know what to do. Why? Why must you do this to me? Am I nothing but a plaything to you? Yifeng wanted to be angry, he wanted to take his hand away. He still wanted to leave, or so he told himself.
Instead of doing those things that he told himself he wanted to do, the he was going to do, Yifeng's forced resolve faltered. His heart racing, he returned Zhongmou's affection, grasping the man's hand, and slowly rubbing the side of his index finger. It was more of an absentminded sort of thing; it just seemed like the thing he should do. It just seemed right. Damn it, how can I deny him?
Zhongmou then spoke on about how he was sorry, how he had no choice but to strike him like he was some cheap whore in front of Lu Xun, Guan Shao, and Sun Tzao. It was all a very convenient explanation, but Yifeng could not find it within himself to argue back. "I..." he began to say, but he could not continue any further. As he sat there, as Zhongmou peered across the table at him, looking into his soul, seeing his every weakness and invulnerability, Yifeng could not say anything. Zhongmou's soft hazel eyes had rendered him useless; it had been so long since he had been able to look into them.
There was so much sadness in Zhongmou's eyes, there had always been. Yifeng had always wished that he could take that away, but he knew that he could not. Zhongmou was a monster, and there was nothing that anyone could do for him now. Yifeng looked away, his light skin betraying is shame as he blushed a light red. God damn it.... Zhongmou was making a fool of him, and he could do nothing to stop it from happening.
It was not until Zhongmou removed his hand from Yifeng's that the latter could think clearly again. It was if a spell had been broken, and Yifeng felt empty and used. He does it so easily; he hurts me like no other, almost with no effort at all. His hand trembled once more, the support of Zhongmou's. He balled his hand into a fist, and brought back to rest on his leg, trying to forget the feeling of being held, even if in such a small manner, but Zhongmou.
Yifeng had yet to touch his wine, being too enthralled by the hold Zhongmou had over him. But now that he was again alone, now that he was again bitter and angry and cold, he grabbed his cup consumed the contents therein in one go. He placed the cup down and a sigh, just in time for Zhongmou to refill it. What am I going to do? Why is he doing this to me? Yifeng's eyes wavered; he was a mess.
"So why were you drinking in that slum? Why not a pleasure house, or somewhere... respectable?"
Yifeng sat in silence for a moment, eying his reflection in his wine pensively. "Isn't it obvious, Zhongmou?" Yifeng asked after a moment. "I was there because that's where Pan Zhang dragged me to. You know I have no love for the lower class, but I... was desperate. I-" He cut himself off there, he was not sure if he would be able to express himself; he was not sure if he even wanted to. "I have been avoiding you will all of my might, Zhongmou. I have been working myself to death, absorbing myself in my work, just to go home and be alone. ...Just to be haunted by nightmares."
Yifeng looked down at the table, away from Zhongmou. He gripped his cup firmly, his knuckles beginning to whiten, the liquid within it rippling. Should I even be saying this to him? What good is it going to do? He doesn't care about me; this is just me showing weakness. But... but if I do not express myself, if I try to keep all of this inside anymore, I don't, I- "I'm not used to being alone, Zhongmou. I haven't been alone my whole life, because we have never been apart. But how could I face you?"
He looked up from the table, looking directly into those strange eyes, his own bloodshot from the emotion that was overwhelming him. "You, you have done so much to me in these past weeks; you have to know that, right? You have to realize how much you've injured me." He sat there, staring into Zhongmou's eyes, wondering if the man felt anything. "It's not just how you struck me in front of the others, but how you so coldly expected me to kill Sun Liao.
"I am not like you, Zhongmou, assisting in the murder of that boy has haunted me since it happened. I did it; I realize it was my choice. But do you realize that I did it only for you? Even if I didn't agree -- at all -- with killing the boy. Everything that I have ever done has been for you, Sun Zhongmou. Do you realize this fact?"
Yifeng did not truly think that Zhongmou did realize it. He did not think that the man he had spent his life with realized anything beyond what would best serve his own means. He murdered Bofu; he murdered Sun Liao; why would he bother to think about Yifeng's feelings? Why would he care about the motivations of his closest friend? So long as they served his best interests, Zhongmou had no reason to care. I am making a fool out of myself. I shouldn't have said anything.
As he looked at Zhongmou, his temporary courage faltered. He turned his gaze away from the man he loved more than anything, looking off to the side, ashamed.
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Post by Sun Quan on Aug 7, 2011 2:01:26 GMT
Quan watched as the man stared back at him, faltering at his every touch. He knew this man better than the man knew himself. The lightest of touches tantalized this one, and the heavier ones were known to cripple him entirely.
However, Quan, for the moment, kept that card in the deck. He sipped at his wine as the man spoke, trying to tell Quan how hard he had it the past few weeks. Quan smiled behind his cup, his eyes hardly moving with the motion, as he drank in both the wine and the words. They were nutritious to him, feeding his basest desires for hurting others without having to actually harm them.
His eyes flashed as the man said that he had to know how much he was hurt. Yifeng, you silly bitch. You have feelings, and if you were any bit as practical as you were intelligent, you'd have gotten rid of those silly feelings years ago.
"Everything that I have ever done has been for you, Sun Zhongmou. Do you realize this fact?"
Quan nearly spit out his wine, reigning it in at the last minute. He set the cup down, and wiped away a bit of dribble from the corner of his mouth.
His eyes raged with fire, a deep passion from the innermost gullet of his body. He bored down into Yifeng's soul, trying to pull that little afraid man out it's shell, to bring it to the forefront, to get Ran to finally understand him.
"No, Yifeng, I don't think you realize that I am no fucking idiot."
Quan threw his arm out and slapped away the fresh cup of wine in front of Ran, his own tipping over with the act. The cup flailed miserably, a crimson splashing across the map on the table, multiple figurines being cast aside in it's tumultuous tumble through the middle kingdom.
He grabbed Ran by the shirt and pulled his face towards him, mere inches from his own. He could feel the man's haggard breath, the disgusting smell of old wine on his breath. Quan looked deep into his eyes, to assure the man of his seriousness.
"Yifeng, I do not make plans for no reason. I do not underutilize the tools at my disposal. Everything I do is for the state, and insuring it's continued existence. If you were useless, I would not keep you around.
Everything you do is for me? Good. That's how I expect it. Everything you do should be for me, in my honor, in my name, and for my pleasure. IT IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY."
His voice had exploded towards the end, and the urge to hit Ran again grew in him, to expend his anger on the man, to show him what Quan knew through the brute force of beating the ever loving shit out of this fucking piece of shit who'd dare to say he didn't know something.
"A fly does not SHIT, in my FUCKING kingdom without me hearing about it, do you understand? That fly doesn't SHIT without my FUCKING PERMISSION, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
I control everything here. Everything I do is for a reason, and it is not just my flights of fancy. I exert this control, and give roles, because it is what you are good for. What I know I can trust you with.
Yet you complain I do not appreciate your love. It is you, my beautiful friend, that is unappreciative."
His right hand moved to the man's face, slowly, caressing the side of his face gently, bringing him even closer. His breath was hot, warm, tantalizing. The kiss was momentary, but the importance would not be lost on Yifeng.
Quan let him go and righted the two cups. He poured a large swallow for himself, immediately refilling the goblet and destroying another cup. He filled it a third time before handing the quickly emptying flask to Zhu Ran.
"Everything. For a reason."
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Kyle
Full Member
And it don't mean nothin' at all.
Posts: 218
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Post by Kyle on Aug 9, 2011 1:01:07 GMT
Yifeng watched as his words incensed Zhongmou, the man almost spewing the wine from his mouth. Another misspoken word, another violent rage in response. This was how it always was with Zhongmou -- with everyone. However, it seemed to be much worse with those he seemingly "cared" about; those he kept closest to him at all times. Yifeng was used to this kind of reaction from the man; he was used to threats of violence to maintain Zhongmou's semblance of control over everything. As the man raged, throwing the cups of wine about, Yifeng could not help but feel even more despair than before. This time not for himself, but for Zhongmou. Are you really so afraid of not having control, Zhongmou? Do you really think that this is the way to keep control? What could have made you this way, my dear friend? As Yifeng's thoughts swirled, Zhongmou picked him up by his robes; it was all too reminiscent of when Zhongmou struck him in the meeting where they decided how to murder Sun Liao. Yifeng's face was stoic, yet his eyes reflected all the sadness in his being. They locked onto Zhongmou's own, the hazel wonders burning with a rage Yifeng felt he would never be able to understand. As Zhongmou spoke, Yifeng fought the urge to cringe, not because he was being yelled at, not because he could feel Zhongmou's deep desire to him him, but because the words his oldest friend spoke. It was just as Yifeng feared; he was a tool, that was his purpose. I suppose he is right; he is the liege, and I am the vassal, but... why, how is it that he can feel nothing else for me?Yifeng fought the urge to shed tears. He knew that would only make him appear weaker than he already appeared in front of Zhongmou. His heart sank in his chest as he fell into the depths of despair, of total hopelessness. It was a feeling Yifeng had become well acquainted with over the passed few weeks, but it was a feeling that he would always hate. The words stung; they resounded in his mind. However, Zhongmou's tone soon changed; his anger lessened. Yifeng could see his hateful glare softening. They were mere inches away from one another, and Yifeng's spine began to tingle. It was then that again he was caught off guard by Zhongmou. "It is you, my beautiful friend, that is unappreciative."Beautiful...? Yifeng did not have much time to process the information before Zhongmou pulled him in closer, gently caressing his face. It was then that Zhongmou kissed him. It was not a long kiss, no; however, it was more than enough. Once the kiss was broken, Zhongmou indulged further in his wine, offering Yifeng the rest of it after he was done with it. Yifeng's brow was knit, a look of both confusion and apprehension, but also one of hesitant joy. This was certainly a night of firsts. In all our time- he thought as he held flask up to his mouth to finish it off. In all our time together -- our entire lives -- never has Zhongmou been one to call me anything all that endearing. In all of our time as, well, I suppose as "lovers", he has never kissed me. Zhongmou, I- Yifeng's eyes were wavering again, the light reflecting unevenly off of them. He looked to Zhongmou, he was so beautiful to Yifeng -- he had always been beautiful to Yifeng. Though, never once did he truly believe that Zhongmou reciprocated this feeling. He had said himself but moments earlier; Yifeng was simply a tool. But, am I something more to him? Am I reading too much into this simply because it is what I have wanted for a very long time? Damn it, how is it that he can do so much to me through so very little effort?Yifeng downed the remaining wine quickly, his head buzzing; though, it was not from the alcohol that it did so. His body was shaking once again, and it was noticeable as he place the flask down on the table. Everything had quickened; his heart rate, his breathing, the amount information his senses processed increased; he was abuzz. It was a feeling he couldn't shake. Looking at Zhongmou, Yifeng was still filled with so many negative emotions. He was filled with hatred, a bitterness that would not leave simply because of some light displays of affection; but he was also filled with a great deal of pleasant feelings. His body quaked because he was overloaded; he was unable to sift through all of his thoughts, all of his feelings. He did not know how to react; what was he supposed to do? Should I be happy that I am useful to him, that I am a helpful tool in his arsenal? Should I be optimistic about his feelings for me, excited that he might also have some sort of emotional want for me? Should I be angry? Should I be insulted that he believes these small things are supposed to have me right in the palm of his hand? Should I be embarrassed that it seems to be working?As his mind raced with questions and doubts, his face flushed a deep red. He was a fool; he was well aware of that fact more so now than ever before. Unfortunately, such knowledge did not help him in the slightest. Everything for a reason, eh Zhongmou? Then what... Yifeng moved toward Zhongmou, his stride bold, but lacking confidence. He was right before him, like moments ago. Refusing to let his uncertainty cloud him any further, he steeled himself. He reached out and grabbed the man firmly by his shoulders and looked into his eyes. Then what is the reason for all of this? he moved in, his lips meeting Zhongmou's again. It was passionate, but not overly forceful, and it, too, was brief. Taking himself away from the man before him, Yifeng's eyed belied a grave seriousness, his breathing heavy. "If I am the one who does not understand, tell me Sun Zhongmou; just what am I to you?"
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Post by Sun Quan on Aug 15, 2011 3:32:03 GMT
His face contorted unwillingly, for the first time in as long as he can remember, his emotions showed plain on his face without his allowance. Both shock and awe were etched upon his brow and lips, as Yifeng drew him close for that almost too cliche of happenings.
"If I am the one who does not understand, tell me Sun Zhongmou; just what am I to you?"
Quan smiled at him, and pulled him back, embracing him with both arms wrapped around his waist.
"You're Yifeng. My Yifeng. You are mine. And you may believe that I am yours. I am."
His eyes twinkled devilishly, at his most deepest of levels, a voice was wondering aloud whether he was genuine, while another side responded near immediately with a resounding, cacophonous bark of laughter.
He pulled back from Yifeng, and stared at him for but another second. He pushed his chair in and walked towards the door to his personal chambers, just a short jaunt down a hallway lined with guards.
However, only two were posted, with his guardians in the hallway as well. Together, Yifeng and Zhongmou would pass the guardians posted, two flasks of wine awaiting them inside his inner room. The garden around him sat tranquil, the sound of crickets and other night life but mere whispers on the wind.
He sat down and motioned for Yifeng to do so as well.
"So do you get it? I need to know now, Yifeng. I thought we had an understanding already, but apparently that was my mistake. I must know that you are on my side once again, and you understand what place you occupy by my side."
He nibbled at a little food that was prepared on the table. He stared at the man, his face unflinching, yet his body language was relaxed, leaning back, his robe hung askew. He gave away nothing, but the post was intentionally provocative.
Afterall, Yifeng seemed to desire one thing, and that was him, so who was he not to exploit it?
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Kyle
Full Member
And it don't mean nothin' at all.
Posts: 218
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Post by Kyle on Apr 9, 2012 10:47:16 GMT
It was heartening, truly, to see Zhongmou display honest emotion for the first time in a very, very long time. He had taken so much upon himself. It was self-inflicted, yes, but it was still a heavy burden that he bore. It can't be easy, having to pretend not to be human for the sake of some greater cause. He would have me believe that he does it so easily, but I know that he must ache somewhere; I know it because I have seen him at his weakest. He must think me a fool if he expects me to believe that he has no more emotions within him.
Will I ever be able to draw them out? Likely not. The Zhongmou I knew in my youth, the Zhongmou I loved so fiercely in my youth, is gone. He died long ago. Too long ago.He found himself on the verge of weeping yet again. He would not, could allow himself to. He listened as Zhongmou told him the words that he wanted so desperately to hear. Oh! How they sounded beyond sweet. How they rung in Yifeng's ears, golden and perfect. But the emotion on Zhongmou's face was gone; he was the collected lord once again as he spoke. But his embrace, his promises that he was Yifeng's they were so wonderful. His arms, strong and, surprisingly, caring, as they wrapped about his lean waist. Just as he was beginning to give into the feel of Zhongmou around him, his friend withdrew. Again, that empty, sinking feeling -- the feeling of being alone. how accustomed he was becoming to that feeling. Perhaps it had been a feeling he had carried with him all along? That was a thought that he did not care to entertain further. Instead he he watched as Zhongmou regarded him, the devil himself in the his beautiful green eyes, and then retreat toward his private chamber. Blessed with such beauty. A man unlike any other, yet he has always felt so insecure. He has always had something to prove. I only the ache in my heart could heal the wounds he has suffered from his entire life. But I am incapable.
For the good that I have done for Wu, I am incapable of doing good for this man here.He fought back a sigh, a shudder, a tear, a scream; he followed. He made his way into the room behind Zhongmou, taking his seat across from the man that he undeniably, and most regrettably, loved. There he sat, the objects of his desires, carnal and emotional -- the only person Yifeng had ever felt anything of the sort for. Sure he had had women when the moment struck him, but none of them were him -- none of them were Zhongmou. And that just made him bitter, angry. He regarded Zhongmou, nonchalant, just as he would have it -- his thoughts hidden behind a well-trained mask. He even had the audacity to nibble on some food as thought they weren't in the middle of a crisis, as if the lover he had had since his youth was not potentially breaking away from him. Damn him. Damn him to all the hells that could possibly exist. He makes appear a weak fool. And what am I if not that? How can I win against a monster like him?"So do you get it? I need to know now, Yifeng. I thought we had an understanding already, but apparently that was my mistake. I must know that you are on my side once again, and you understand what place you occupy by my side."And what place is that, Zhongmou? He thought bitterly. The place of your whore? Do I stand as your wench where most lords would have a woman? Why would it be any other way? The sound of the crickets echoed in the silence of the garden. Their chirps filled in the emptiness that was Yifeng's being. He felt sick all over again. His options were limited, and both left him an incomplete man. His fist tightened, his knuckles turning white from the force. He could try and kill him, right then, right there. But Zhongmou didn't even trust "his" Yifeng enough to sit alone with him anymore. He could say yes, that he did understand his "place", that he was fine with it, but what good would that do? No, he would do neither -- he would not be cowed now, not after all of this. His brow tightened into a light frown. "Your mistake was not assuming incorrectly about how I feel for you, and I suppose how you might feel for me, Zhongmou. I have never been anywhere but on your side -- even if I have hated you in the process. But I will not content myself to be your glorified concubine, Zhongmou -- I cannot. And I do not understand how you could ask of me to be so. "I love you, and I always have. We have grown up together, and we have embraced in passion since we were youths. I have always been there for you and at one point in your life, I believe that you loved me in that same way. Now you ask me to be your dog, obedient and ready to be fucked on a moment's order. There is nothing of the love that you once held for me." Yifeng fell silent. He knew that Zhongmou would rage, that he would throw things, that he would hit him, beat him because he could not handle truth any longer. He was a monster that could not be faulted; nothing was his fault, and he was never, ever, wrong. If only he would just listen to me, if only he could become the Zhongmou he was before he changed so. He regarded the man before him once again. His light brown skin, almost pale, was so beautiful. He could remember the feel of it under his fingertips. His eyes, oh how his eyes had always enraptured so many, yet Yifeng was whom they belonged to. his hair, unlike any he had ever seen, just like his eyes. It was soft everywhere it was to be found, and it was beautiful. His robe was opened slightly and he looked upon the light dusting of hair upon his love's chest. He is beautiful; he is who I want.
He is what I want.Yifeng could feel a stirring in him, a primal, animalistic urge. He was buzzing again, his libido stirred suddenly in the midst of all of his rage and sorrow. Suddenly there was but one thing to do, one thing that had to be done. If he was truly Zhongmou's, then he would find out now. He felt his loins stir, a swelling beginning and there was a hunger in Yifeng's eyes. It had been so long since he had been touched, so long since he had been with Zhongmou. Despite all the things happening between them, he wanted one thing at that moment. And he would have it. "Sun Zhongmou, if I am truly your Yifeng as I once, you will show me." It was not a question; he was not asking; he was not begging. He stood up abruptly and took a deep swallow from the flagon closest to him. He dropped upon the able with a loud thud as he moved over to his lifetime's desire. He ripped open Zhongmou's robes, exposing fully his chest, Yifeng's own rising and dropping rapidly in his feral hunger. He placed his hand upon that beautiful chest then, pressing hard against his lord and lovers pecs, rubbing his nipples with his thumbs. They were so soft, so reactive. He leaned in close to Zhongmou's face, he breath heavy, lustful in the man's ear. "Show me, Zhongmou, show this fool before you what it means to be yours." His lips brushed lightly against Zhongmou's ear as he whispered. His own skin had goosebumps, as did Zhongmou's now. His nipples began to react without even being touched, as did his cock, now aching, throbbing. He could hardly contain himself. It was time. It had been so long.
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Post by Sun Quan on Apr 9, 2012 16:04:34 GMT
Quan's dark, nearly black, green eyes stared at the man opposite as he spoke, regaling Quan with the passions of his love, and the depths at which he yearned for Quan to be part of him, to be in him, to be everything he needed in life.
It sort of disgusted Quan, but he knew that he had created the animal in front of him. Everything that Zhu Ran was was because of what Quan had done to him over the years, another man in a long line of experiments that he had tried and failed at over the years. His cousin Sun had been another, kept locked away since Quan took the throne to make sure that he grew into a sadistic bastard.
Ran had been much the opposite. Sure, their friendship had begun as a real thing. When they were boys, Quan had generally loved the man. They were inseparable because Quan did indeed harbor a secret love and lust for he man, one that had blossomed those summer days that they had spent deep in the jungles of southern Wu.
So it was no surprise that this had become the breaking point. Quan had finally pushed his best friend and lover to the final point, where even the timid Zhu Ran would break his own imposed restraint, to debase himself and throw himself at Quan, claiming on his lips that it was a show of love when really it was but a base instinct to rut like animals, the tension between them tacked onto their past passion.
It made Quan smirk. Even as the man pulled him close and rubbed his body, he couldn't help but smile, no doubt assuring Ran that he agreed and was convinced of his friend's plea. He could see the hope in Ran's eyes even as he leaned forward and met his lips, his tongue searching inside his mouth, tasting the wine on his breath.
"Good boy."
He pushed Ran over across the table and threw himself on top, their bodies hard against each other as they writhed. Quan's hands explored his lover's body, bringing him pleasure in more ways than one.
However, Quan quickly lost his cool. Soon the devil inside him took over, something that did not happen unless Quan truly wanted it. Indeed, this was no regular meeting, nor was Quan going to give in to Ran's bullshit pleas of love.
Quan roughly turned his friend over, pieces of fine china scattering across the ground and shattering, mixing in with the carpet and pillows. He ran a hand down his friend's side, before reaching down and parting his legs. He then reached under the table to grab something.
He pulled it out, and threw the covering away. As he pushed himself into Ran, the man's cries of pleasure were almost too much for Quan. However, this subject had failed to meet Quan's rigorous standards, and as such, it required disposing of.
Quan pulled out and turned him around, a hand caressing his friend's face.
"Tonight, I would look upon your face."
As he leaned down to kiss him again, his right hand shot forward, a small knife flashing forward, crashing into the base of Zhu Ran's throat even as Quan kissed him. The blood erupted forth almost immediately, Ran's body shuddering backwards at first. His eyes were watery, yet Quan saw something deep within them as he watched life escape his oldest friend.
There was understanding. This rocked Quan. He looked deep, both hands gripping his friend's head, even as the knife sticking out of his throat let blood gush. Ran's body trembled as one hand came up to grasp Quan's arm. Quan refused to break contact with the man's eyes, not until the man finally stopped moving, a final word, "I understand."
Quan laid the man's head down on the ground, petting the hair absentmindedly for a minute. However, he stood, and took account of the room; shattered dishes, broken wine bottles, and a dead friend, himself covered in the man's blood.
He turned from the room and walked out, shutting the door slowly behind him. However, it closed with a solid thunk, another chapter in Quan's life sealed away.
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Kyle
Full Member
And it don't mean nothin' at all.
Posts: 218
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Post by Kyle on Apr 9, 2012 20:42:21 GMT
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Post by Sam on Apr 10, 2012 3:23:45 GMT
Bravo, great encore! Woooooo! The music made it so real, woooo! I miss this old place.
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Post by Mikey on Apr 10, 2012 6:34:42 GMT
Despite this being literally homoerotica that was beautiful. A great end to your Sun Quan Justin. Fantastic writing. =) Poor Kyle though.
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Kyle
Full Member
And it don't mean nothin' at all.
Posts: 218
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Post by Kyle on Apr 10, 2012 11:43:37 GMT
Lol, I was sort of expecting that the reward rubric would be in your post, Mikey. =P
Anywho, not poor me, not even poor Zhu Ran. There was really no other way this beautifully tragic relationship could have gone. It's not like Sun Quan was going to stop being crazy suddenly. If anything, poor Sun Quan; he's the one that has to keep on living, now with no one aside from Varys Meng Dao. There was just no way for Zhu Ran to have survived and been better off for it.
I actually think that it'd be neat for Justin to write up an epilogue of sorts. I want to know what happens to Sun Quan, and Wu, after this all goes down. I imagine it'd be a good read. So yeah, Justin, get on that shit for me. ;O
Oh and, ain't nothin' wrong with two dude making sweet man-lovin' with one another -- even if one of them happens to get murdered in the process. >_>
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Post by Mikey on Apr 10, 2012 23:04:16 GMT
Using the reward rubric this thread scored OVER 9000!!!! >.> I'd like to see your version of something when it does go wrong.
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