comeonlads

[comeonlads]

                            i am… how u say… goddamn losing it lads

                                                               [SELECTIVE KING ARTHUR ]

[comeonlads]

unnwin:

smiles , grateful for the opportunity to search for a cat that doesn’t exist.   makes all the right sounds , offers up the best responses , manages to keep his act convincing enough to warrant success  —————————-  entry is granted , and Eggsy walks in , all slow and purposeful.   

immediately , the boy notices the   ornaments   :   scattered around like a show-room replica , a museum within a place of comfort.   but moves on , from all of those  –  where would he sell them  ?  how can he even nick such large , obtrusive items   ?  

into the garden he goes , and Eggsy plays the role of an owner worried to death looking for his precious cat , even calling out to it as he takes this opportunity to scour the perimeter.   cameras , non-existent.  a window into the basement , poorly covered , could provide means for entry and exit.    alarms , present , but oddly enough , switched off.   he doesn’t think too much into it.  

sighs , and wipes non-existent sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.     ❛    tea sounds good , thanks.    ❜     he’s not a tea person , by any means  –  but this opportunity gives him ample time to scour the inside of the home.   re-enters , sitting at the kitchen counter , every gaze purposeful , hidden behind fake gratitude.

❛    sorry for takin’ up your time.        can’t find poor Willow anywhere , I hope she ain’t lost.    ❜

you might think him droll, the sort of simple that is assumed of cheery dispositions and belts strained against the gut. he is, however, no saint nick. he is but a knight who serves his king with the sun in his smile and more kindness and wisdom than most who flock to his majesty’s court. but there is no need to expose his holy duties to this young lad! 

“and what exactly are her markings? should we come across her ourselves? his majesty is very fond of animals, as it were, and has a whole bestiary in the north country. if she is seen we might also call upon you, gary.”

he pushes the tea-cup forward and offers a silver bowl of sugar cubes, “one? two? none? i fancy myself three at times!”

[comeonlads]

you really think your lad arthur goes about opening the door to this big fuck off house to just anyone? well you’re only half right, mate. it’s not him but some other fella about as big around as he is tall, rosy cheeked and cotton candy hair (white, whispy, spun sugar it’s so thin) and he’s pleased to make your acquaintance, think nothing of it, a cat you say? lost? nervous? how dreadful!

“she might have a bit of a change of heart in the garden, as it were,” he chortles. is it a maze like this house? full of broken limbed statues and cracked busts? are there treasures there too like there appear to be in every little display case pressed to a well good kept wall (complete with the original, atrocious paintings made by whoever owned this estate in the early eighteenth century, mind you)? perhaps!

the wobbly, rosy cheeked sir leads the way to the garden and opens two french doors out onto what is a well cared for garden... when it isn’t used for archery practice or mock sword fights. oh no, those little bits of tell are tucked away in a garden shed near the back of the property.

“shall i make a cup of tea while you search? i can only imagine how thirsty searching for lost pets might be!”

DEEP BREATH , SQUARES OUT SHOULDERS , STANDS UP TALL.    it’s time to act.    knocks once , twice , three times on the door , awaiting a response  —————–  and fixes the best look of anguish on his face when the door is finally opened.       ❛    hi , i’m  Gary.   you don’t know me but my  –  my cat , I think it crawled under the fence and into your back yard , could I please ‘ave a look and get her back   ?   she gets so nervous out and about on her own , sometimes.    ❜ 

@comeonlads    /    plotted.

[comeonlads]

“You’re a mouthy little ponce, aren’t you? What’s your name?”

comeonlads replied to your post: �� + “heard there big fuck off wolves in these…

“Nah, BIGGER than mountain lions. S'what I heard.”

      “If you find Jacob Black out there in the forest, let him know I said hi.”

[comeonlads]

cardshcrp replied to your post: ❝ Piss off, ghost! ❞

remy vc; well u fuckin look like you been in ur grave for 20 years mAtE

[comeonlads]

[comeonlads]

[comeonlads]

❝ Piss off, ghost! ❞

“you try to kick your foot through me one more time and i’m going to stuff your own boot up your arse, mate. i ain’t DEAD.”

[comeonlads]

❝ Even with two eyes, you only see half of the picture. ❞

“is that right? and what sort of picture is that? ‘cos it could be i don’t have a single ounce in me that wants to see anythin’ painted up by your lot. all kinds of fuckery there, like lookin’ a fuckin’ francis bacon piece and hopin’ it don’t come to life and bite you in the nose.”

[comeonlads]

❝ I like women. Sometimes a little too much. ❞

“What’s not t’like? They’re soft and they’re sharp as knives all at once. They smile at you and it can mean your death or your life. Loads of power in those pretty paws, and if you ask me it was Eve who ran that garden well good and without her it all went to pot.”

[comeonlads]

“Just do me a favor and stay conscious.”

arthur isn’t promising shit, but then he’s always had a bit of a communication problem with death, yeah? seems every time he goes about tryin’ to say hello death is that arsehole that shoves him away harder than an american trying to shoulder their way past a queue. 

“don’t tell me... how t’live.. my life...” he groans.

[comeonlads]

❝ Sometimes you have to get captured just to get a straight answer out of something. ❞ ❝ What have you brought today? Tell me. ❞ ❝ We’re the same, you and I. Just a couple of hot-headed fools. ❞ ❝ Whoever you are, you will be stopped. ❞ ❝ I went on a journey of self-discovery. Then I met you. ❞ ❝ I tried to start a revolution, but didn’t print enough pamphlets so hardly anyone turned up. ❞ ❝ Do you reckon you’d be interested? ❞ ❝ Destiny has dire plans for you, my friend. ❞ ❝ I have dire plans for destiny. ❞ ❝ Last time we saw you, you were trying to kill everyone. What are you up to these days? ❞ ❝ I have to get off this planet! ❞ ❝ Hey, big guy. Sun’s getting real low. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. ❞ ❝ Perhaps we can come to an arrangement… ❞ ❝ Kneel, before your ( queen/king ). ❞ ❝ Darling, you have no idea what’s possible. ❞ ❝ I’ve got more muscle, so technically more brains! ❞ ❝ My destiny is to rule all others. ❞ ❝ I thought the world of you. I thought we were going to fight side-by-side forever. ❞ ❝ Let’s be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago. ❞ ❝ It’s probably for the best that we’ll never see each other again. ❞ ❝ We’re gonna get outta here. Wanna come? ❞ ❝ A creepy old man cut my hair off! ❞ ❝ Even with two eyes, you only see half of the picture. ❞ ❝ Where are the weapons? ❞ ❝ Better not touch anything. ❞ ❝ Your savior has arrived! ❞ ❝ Every great king had an executioner. ❞ ❝ The revolution has begun! ❞ ❝ I think you can handle things from here. ❞ ❝ So, he’s dead. I’d have liked to have seen that. ❞ ❝ How do I escape? ❞ ❝ I trust you, you betray me and round and round in circles we go. ❞ ❝ That’s smaller than I expected. ❞ ❝ But like a lot of things in life, it should all work out all right. ❞ ❝ I still hate it. It’s humiliating. ❞ ❝ Come on. You love it. ❞ ❝ Don’t you move. My hands aren’t as steady as they used to be. ❞ ❝ Piss off, ghost! ❞ ❝ With the Eternal Flame, you are reborn! ❞ ❝ I was just talking to him just a couple minutes ago and he was totally ready to kill any of us. ❞ ❝ Slaves is such a harsh word, I prefer “prisoners with benefits.” ❞ ❝ I spare you. I spare you from life. ❞ ❝ It’s come to my attention that you don’t know who I am. ❞ ❝ Look at that. Remember this place… home. ❞ ❝ I’m not as strong as you. ❞ ❝ I can’t believe you’re alive! I saw you die. I mourned you. I cried for you. ❞ ❝ Everything was fine without you. ❞ ❝ Just for once in your life, don’t smash! ❞ ❝ I like women. Sometimes a little too much. ❞ ❝ I’ve spent years, in a haze, trying to forget. ❞ ❝ I don’t know your game, but you can not stop me! ❞ ❝ I understand why you’re angry. ❞ ❝ Go back to whatever chamber you crept out of, you evil demoness! ❞ ❝ I’m upset! I’m very upset. You know what I like about being upset? Blame. ❞

[comeonlads]

ok brb need to go to sonic and get some ICE and a drink and ill be back to write. 

[comeonlads]

honestly i watched that clip maybe twenty times now and i fuckin lose it every time. allen partridge is such a piece of shit lmaoo

@comeonlads replied to your post: youtube.com/watch?v…

iufhuiewhfiuweafwef i’m fkcin crying lauh gin 

[comeonlads]

“Rescue” sentence starters (pt 2)

as requested by anon. Feel free to change pronouns or anything else ! Part one here: ( x ).

The Rescued

“Could an injured person do this?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“This is a code orange emergency!”

“Just…don’t let go..”

“I’m too pretty to die!”

“I was so scared.”

“Never thought I’d say this, but. Thanks.”

“Perfect timing.”

“Ow! Be gentle.”

“Wha..? What’s going on?”

“I didn’t need your help.”

“[crying] Thank you so much.”

“Don’t let them get away!”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“I should have listened to you.”

The Rescuer

“Why didn’t you call me?!”

“Great, now you’ve dragged me into this.”

“Listen to me. Just calm down, deep breaths.”

“What? I needed coffee first.”

“Just do me a favor and stay conscious.”

“I’m the good guy!”

“You don’t look so good. Tell me, what day is it?”

“I should’ve left you to die.”

“Be quiet or I’ll throw you back in there.”

“It’s weird, but you look pretty good.”

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“Hold on tight.”

“It’s not like I’d let you DIE.”

“You did good. I’m proud of you.”

“[awkward] It’s not a big deal.”

[comeonlads]

                            i am… how u say… goddamn losing it lads

                                                               [SELECTIVE KING ARTHUR ]

[comeonlads]

In my brother’s great hall there is a painting. An angel in red so bright it is nearly orange speaks to a scribe, and out of the seraphic mouth comes a long ribbon, winding and whirling and corkscrewing until it enters the scribe’s ear. On this ribbon are written divine words, undeniable words, words that originated on the sea of glass and, shard-bright, fell until they tore open the ribbon in shapes of themselves.

This is what my brother’s commands are like. He speaks and I can almost see it, the ribbon snaking out of his mouth, yellow and black, coiling through the air to enter me at the place in my back which was made for him, made for the receipt of quests, made to ingest his desires and make them manifest. There is no sound but the ticking of this ribbon into me, the slow click of a king’s calligraphy, holes in the shapes of divine letters slotting into my sinews, whispering angelic and severe, locking my joints in place. His ribbon susurrates in me, insists that an object is required, a child stolen away to the bottom of the sea, to Annwn, the other country, which is west, and there are kabbalistic coordinates which burn themselves into my corneas—but it doesn’t matter what the object is. There is always an object. He always requires it. His hunger for them is never quiet. Nor does it matter where they are: they are always west, they are always out, they are always beyond, they are always in the otherworld, which is only to say the other world, anything that is not circumscribed by these walls, these floors, these steels and stones. The ribbon wraps my lungs, sets my constraint: nine days without breath, as near to the limit of my capsules as makes no difference—and this does not matter, either. Everything the ribbons demand extends our limits, no matter what those limits are. If I could hold my breath for ten days, the ribbon would demand ten. Retrieve object. Return. Simple as stone. Execute. The ribbon disappears under the plates of my armor, under the beetle-carapace of my second skin. I turn on golden heels. I walk in a straight line, unaltered and unerring until the air is so full of salt my joints cry out.

This is all I am.

-X THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE - KAY - MYTHS OF ORIGIN BY CATHERYNNE VALENTE