Ouro & PrettyBoy Barnaby - Why Me?

Nombre de messages : 152 Age : 35 Date d'inscription : 2012-06-05

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May - June 2012

Brõõks Barnaby Jr. : Dark. Silence. Despair

All filled the room that was unknown to the lifeless, tangled up rookie hero, as he sat there being nothing but useless. It was only a matter of time until the dizzy hero woke up from his inanimate state.Slowly blinking his eyes, trying to get rid of his blurry vision from having them closed for so long. But it was useless for his glasses were gone. From what he could see, they were on the floor a little a ways from him. Off to the left from his foot that was lying down on the ground as his hands were tied up behind his head, up against the wall. Realizing that he was in this position. Barnaby snapped out of his doze, dizzy state. Panicking in fright of not knowing on where he was at or why he was like this. & even worst.../who/ exactly brought him there & did all of this to him.

Frighten & irritated, Barnaby did the only thing he could do.

He sat there & waited.

Waiting to see the person that was responsible for all of this.

Waiting to hear the reasons for this obscure non-sense.

Ouro Barnaby : A silhouette stands in the shadow of the night. A light rain was falling on the ground in old stone slabs that gleamed in the light of the moon pale and silent ...A long black coat covered the frail shoulders of the young man.

Ouro was walking slowly, his footsteps echoing faintly on the pavement. Sometimes a gust of wind makes his coat float back, revealing his slender body, almost fragile his blonde hair following the movement. Rocking the silence, a melody soft and ... strange ....? Sad and macabre at once ....

A smile on his face, holding between his fingers one knife covered of blood that he licked as a child with a candy, a teddy bear in a poor state in his other hand.

Ouro reached the entrance of an alley and began to dance, his long coat following his movements gracefully. Lyrics to the Moon, macabre speeches dedicated to the decadence of that night, the memories that he tries to hide ... forget .......

" little bird behind the veil of night,
Why do you don't sing more ...?
little bird behind the veil of night,
Why I stops breathing ....?

A cold hand moves forward,
little bird,
Pierce my suffering there ....
little bird in the soft night .....
I can not hear your song,
Is that my life ends ..... now ........? "

The young man stops dancing, and came to lean quietly against the wall ... Without this support he can visibly not stand up properly. Then he tights the plush against him ....
Juvenile and lost ..... Lost ...?... not so sure ...

Now he knew that someone was waiting "for him", someone who did not want to be there but, in his mind, was yet in his right place. He moves away from the wall and carefully walks down the lane to reach a secret passage. He descends the dark stairs humming the same song over and over again joining a sort of dark cave.

" My little bird... are you awake ... ? "

He lets drop the plush on the floor with a small squeal of children's toy, makes some steps toward the wall where he left his prisoner and lets see a slight glow reflected by the blade of the knife that he still kept in his hand. He stops at some steps from him, and remains stand up in front of him

" Good evening... Barnaby... "

Brõõks Barnaby Jr. : With each stepping sound the shoes of the unknown came closer, Barnaby's breaths grew quieter to where they were almost silence. His last breath was not silent enough, for by the time it was, the door to his locked up room started to open as it ended the sound of foot steps, & started what sounded like a small squeal of a children's toy.

The pissed, worried green eyes glanced at the feet, & slowly crawled up the slim, long legs, & up the body until they reached other's face. Unfortunately; Barnaby could not see anything but a blurred face. Even so, the light from behind the figure casted a shadow. Making the figure a black an solid figure. Widening his eyes the moment he saw this, he pushed himself back up against the wall, as tight as he could; trying to stand up, but failed in doing so. It was all he could do at this moment...for now.

"...Good evening? Tch...Don't 'Good Evening' my sorry ass..." His words sneered. "...Who ever the hell you are..." The chains railed some as he adjusted himself to be ready for anything the other might try to pull on him. Though it didn't help his cause any less or more.

Barnaby was in a tight situation. For he did not even know what he was up against. The voice however sounded familiar then didn't. It was weird & very obscure. All that could be done now was to sit there & take on whatever was going to happen to him.