Erk-PROCRASTINATION!
max-Shut it erk
Ivan-PROCRASTINATION!
Max-Shut up!
Random-PROCRASTINATION!
Max-SHUT UP SO I HAVEN'T UPDATED ANY STORIES!
Garet-but you're writing a song fic!
Max-shush this just came to me It's about Harken during the time he traveled to the song seven nation army by the white stripes
The lone man traveled on, an unhealthy ,yet strangely satisfying habit of smoking had come to him at this time. His hand forever on the brave sword hilt. He was going to fight off alone with whomever decided to follow. Off to fight the seven nation army of the black fang.
I'm Gonna fight 'em Off
A Seven Nation Army couldn't hold me back
Well maybe it was more or less but eh what the heck. His lord dead, comarades massacared, pride shattered, and his love broken he plodded on. He could hear his 'followers' coming to 'fight with him'. He knew if anything should happen to him these so called freinds were a scraggedly group and would rob and plunder everything from him. From the sword at his side, to the locket of his love Isadora stowed safely away.
They're Gonna Rip it off
Taking there Time right behind my back
His sleep now broken with any dreams, the motely group, at first, laughing at the threats and screams from his sleep. Guttaral words suddenly echoed around the camp un nerving them as the laughter died down. He wouldn't, nay, couldn't forget his gallant companions. As the thoughts of himself and the enemy, himself and his love, himself and bitter defeat, they traveled through his mind. All behind his newly habit of smoking in the simple form of an early developed cigarette.
And I'm Talkin' to myself at night
because I can't forget
Back and forth through my mind
behind a cigarette
Any that thought of asking him what had happened soon had their desire quenched, quelled from the look in his eye. Even the most sound of mind barely spoke to him and asked nothing why he was going.
And the message coming from my eye
says leave it alone
Some tried to tell him of their story. He never listened to them disenterested unless it was a tactical advantage, and the same look in his eye quickly caused them to think that everyone had heard the story.
Don't want to hear about it
Every single one's got a story to tell
Everyone Knows about it
From the Queen of England To the Hounds of Hell
Only one had asked him of his past twice, and he quickly was informed the worst details. They left his form queasy and entirely disheartened never seen to him again.
And if I catch ya commin back my way
I'm gonna Sell it to you
And that ain't what you want to hear
but that's what I'll do
Even with all his thoughts of revenge, his love was there. Constantly with the gut feeling of find a home with her, he went on angy and forlorn at the same time.
And the feelin' commin from my bones
says find a home
He had reawaken when seeing her again. Quickly speaking to her, he was dissapointed at that he almost brought her to tears, but still finally had a chance to return home. As he battled on with ferocity through the battles finally coming upon Nergal himself. Blood pouring from him but desperate to take Nergal down. Unconcious friends around him, the party of four that had been sent he was the only one standing from it so far. Isadora came racing as Nergal began to cast a dark spell, and this man resigned himself to his last charge seeping in under the dark spell. The shadowy energies darting into him he managed to strike the killing blow to Nergal. Blood seeping from the dark magic wounds before the dead dark lord. He fell forward Isadoras scream of anguish ringing in his ears, the blood itself seeming to speak to him. Go home with her live live for her. Do this and sing your battle no more.
I'm goin' to Witchita
Far from this opera for evermore
I'm gonna work the straw
Make the sweat drip out of every pore
And I'm Bleedin, and I'm Bleeding, and I'm Bleedin,
Right before the Lord
All the words are gonna bleed from me
and I will sing no more
As the battle ended from the dragon he lay across Isadoras horse, the brink of death no longer upon him, but immobilized the sting of his wounds and blood still upon him. He felt incredibly light hearted, as he smiled slightly lopsidedly at Isadora. The locket lay drenched in his blood fallen from him when striking the blow to the dark one. The name engraved in it lovingly.
And the stings commin from my blood
tell me go back home
Harken.
Max-Fits it good eh?
Erk-it still
Ivan-doesn't make up for
Random-PROCRASTINATION
Ivan-PROCRASTICNATION
Erk-PROCRASTINATION!
All three-and laziness!
Max-pheh -.-;; R&R