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Topics - Snoopy

Pages: [1] 2 3 4
General Discussion / Chapter 5 - Party Time
« on: March 21, 2017, 19:53:03 »
It had almost been three weeks since Vizier and Nibui ventured out of town with no form of contact with the rest of Blackbox; the remaining few were beginning to worry and question their position within the organisation. The escapees remained quiet and lurked around Hokorigakure causing little trouble – they had to let the government awareness levels die down, and without the leading forces of Blackbox; they were running low on money and drugs.
However, for them the celebrations did not end here.

The new base was slightly more secluded than the previous one which is now under investigation, and this gave them a bit more freedom.

“Grab me another bottle of Sake” a raspy voice commanded from a leather sofa that curves around a medium-sized gambling table.
Blackbox had invited friends and prostitutes over at their trap house. The atmosphere was thick with smoke from burning joints and the scent of alcohol was heavy in the air.

An attractive blonde woman made her way across the wooden floorboards with the desired alcoholic drink in her hand.
“Deal me—“ he was quickly interrupted when a white glass bottle swooped before his eyes and crashed on the table.
A moment of silence dawned between them - the gambler took this time and adjusted the blunt to the corner of his lips. He turned to the prostitute and blew the cannabis smoke into her face.

“Fuck you, Konohuro!” she yelled out and took a step backwards; her face crunched up with disgust as her hands began to flap in her face.
His mouth widened with a deep chuckle; he was callous and took his membership with Blackbox for granted and as a permit to mess with people.

Konohuro was not native to the Hidden Dust, he was born and raised a warrior from the Hidden Volcano, and therefore never fully complied with Hokorigakure regulations – he would often get in trouble with locals, but always found a way out.

“Fam, Konohuro, relax—“ a young voice called out from the bar before the wooden entrance door burst open, silencing everyone in the room and attracting attention.

Nibui stepped through with Vizier tight on his trail.
Every face began to gleam with hope and excitement when they recognized their leader and realized he made it home safe… but something was off.
Kunoichi began to make their way towards them and men spoke up from behind.

“Look who finally decided to show up” Konohuro could be heard in the distance.
Nibui was the odd one out; he had a serious tone, barging through and pushing away prostitutes who began clinging and grasping onto him with drinks still in their hands.

He kissed his teeth in annoyance and raised his katana forth to clear the clustered lane.
“Move, man”

Konohuro stood up and leaned against the wall next to him, waiting for Nibui to walk through the middle.
“What’s going on, bruv?” he questioned in confusion.

“Move over” Nibui shook his blade towards the direction of the inner corner of the sofa, but he didn’t look up. Everything seemed a bit too much for him right now, especially after what he had been through.

Konohuro shifted through the leather, enough to provide space for both returned shinobi. He could sense that they weren’t feeling it tonight, and he could assume why that was the case.
He was a blind shinobi with long white hair. He lost his vision at a young age and is now geared up with a black ribbon around his head; his other senses excelled at their profession – he could almost perfectly visualize the exact location of objects through echo-location and thermal radiation.

Three of them were mutually sceptical about engaging a discussion.
Nibui’s tanned hand glided across the table and picked up a rolled blunt. He stared at it for a moment and turned to Konohuro.

“It’s Indica” he announced.

Nibui nodded with acceptance before placing it in his mouth and sparked the tip.

He inhaled deeply before releasing the residue through his nose.
“Where’s Kimoto?”

General Discussion / Chapter 4 - The Healer
« on: March 20, 2017, 19:15:00 »
“Shouldn’t be too long now”
“The healing is taking place slowly but surely” an unfamiliar voice broke out; it was soft, young and tender.
Vizier grunted in acknowledgement and relief.

A soft wind blew across the field and through the hill which Nibui was being operated on. The night-sky was fresh and rich with stars.
“What are the chances he’ll make it?” Vizier asked with concern.

He paused for a second and tilted his head slightly towards him.
“Given the circumstances that his chest was burned, damaging vital organs such as the heart and lungs… around thirty-three percent” the soft voice replied before readjusting his focus on the leader of Blackbox who happened to be half-dead.

Vizier was impressed by the skill displayed before him.
“You look young… and it amazes me how well you work… - I’ve seen shinobi who specialize in medical ninjutsu struggle with these sort of operations”

“I’m 19, sir, and I’m flattered by your appraisal”
The boy had messy brown hair and was covered in a black cloak of silk. The blue healing rays reflected into his black eyes.

The evening strolled along and a dozen winds went by before another word was spoken.
The glow in his hands ceased and the medic raised himself.
“That’s as much as I can do…; he has been bandaged up around the torso and I’ve regrown his organ tissue”
“Now only time can tell if the operation was successful”

Vizier raised his head, sorrow had overtaken him but he didn’t show it – he couldn’t, even in this situation.
“I understand… I uh… I appreciate everything you have done”

The youthful healer swung his leather bag full with equipment around his head and steadied it onto his body.
“Don’t worry about it, I help people around the Dust free-of-charge… even criminals”
Vizier couldn’t help but strike a faint smile.

The cloaked shinobi had already turned around in preparation to depart but stopped to the sound of Vizier’s aged voice once more.

“You’re a good man”

He paused and tilted his head for the second time.
“I’m Izumi” he informed the elder before resuming his walk down the hill into the darkness.

Vizier was downcast and in grief from the constant worry for Nibui.
“I tried”
“I tried to protect you”
He glanced over at the body once more before setting off into the fields in search of flowers and a plank of wood with enough space for carvings.

Vizier was constantly haunted by the success rate of the operation. “Thirty-three percent” was the only thing going through his mind, and it was on repeat.

It wasn’t long before he returned with a batch of flowers and a plank in the other hand.

Vizier was paralyzed on the spot and dropped everything he held to the sight of Nibui sitting in a cross-legged position, spinning a kunai on his finger.

“Bumbaclart… let’s head home” a grin took over Nibui’s face as his eyes sharpened.

Vizier clenched a fist and slowly shook his head against it in disbelief.
“Fucking idiot” he couldn’t help but let off a light chuckle out of relief.

General Discussion / Chapter 3 - A Small Dilemma
« on: March 20, 2017, 01:01:05 »
“Reports are coming in from my audio receiver… law enforcement is on its way” Vizier’s mature voice notified Nibui with a concerned look on his face.

He was the eldest member of the organisation – a wise man amongst many Dust shinobi, even Nibui soaked up a few lessons from him. His true age remains a mystery, however it is factual that he has roamed the deserts for more than three decades.

Nibui acknowledged the warning.
“We better get goi—“ He was interrupted by a large wave of fire projected by a member of Tatsujin 8, it was a direct hit that set him on his knees.

“Nibui!” Kimoto cried out from behind

“Blackbox, listen to me!”
“We have no time to waste! We don’t want the whole organisation killed or locked up! I’ll stay behind to aid Nibui… Now go!” Vizier’s orders were clear and fear began to fill his voice as the surrounding members took their departure from the scene.

“I’m staying too!” Kimoto broke out
“No you’re not!” Vizier’s objection struck him

Tatsujin 8 shinobi began closing in with kunai knives and hand seals.
Police can be seen darting across the building tops, they were nearing the crime scene.

“God damn it!” Vizier called out with his hands finally in motion.
The ground beneath them began to shake and a great earth dome took shape. It quickly became a two-versus-three excluding Nibui who was bleeding out from his chest.
The Tatsujin 8 members quickly adapted to this environment as one of them pounced forward with a kunai towards Vizier whilst the other two wove handseals around, ready to execute more flames.

“Shield me!” Vizier called out to Kimoto and was greeted by a nod.

The ground shook once more as an earth wall broke through, acting as a barrier in-front of the two shinobi. Their flames were reflected off the wall.
Vizier stood in-front of Nibui and acted as a physical meat-shield whilst quickly throwing around handseals faster than ever before.

An arm consisting of sand protruded from the top of the dome and grabbed the airborne Tatsujin shinobi, throwing him against his fellow members. The arm continued to grow out and formed a fist which began pounding the three shinobi harshly against the dome, crushing skulls and destroying organs. The victims could no longer be identified – they were disfigured and drowned in their own blood and shattered bones. A truly barbaric scene.

The earth dome crumbled as Vizier dragged Nibui onto his shoulders.
“We must go!” he left his final order and disappeared into the distance

Kimoto was fazed by what just happened and looked around in terror. The streets were closed off and he was now surrounded by law enforcement.

Shinobi from the special Dust services reached out to his radio speaker.
“We’ve got one… there is a lot of blood and the others must have escaped”
“Fuck!” Kimoto burst out after realizing he was cornered and attempted a run.
“You ain’t going nowhere!” the Dust police called out and threw a few knives at Kimoto’s feet, nailing him to the ground; breaking his heel to prevent escape.

They excelled at human anatomy and knew how to deal with situations at an extreme pace – Kimoto on the other hand was young and inexperienced.

The doors of the interrogation room burst open and Kimoto was thrown forth by the special ops. He could not stand and was filled with agony as he dropped to the ground like an animal about to meet its fate.

“Now you’re going to tell us everything about these gangs and criminal activities around the hidden Dust” the door was shut and locked up. The only ones inside were the interrogation officer and Kimoto, and he wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon.

General Discussion / Chapter 2 - Warning shots
« on: March 12, 2017, 00:42:01 »
“’Sup?” tension was quickly released as he yawned once more. His left hand swept his drunken face in an attempt to wake up as much as possible.
Aijo looked puzzled and raised her right eyebrow in confusion before her cough broke the silence and echoed through the room. Her body bent forward as she slouched and coughed progressively louder.
Nibui looked just as confused and stared down as she grabbed his stained and ragged shirt to support herself.
“Jesus Christ! What is that smell?!” she cried out, right hand grasping his shirt as her left held a knee.
“Oh, she ain’t ever smoked one” Nibui explained as realization hit, and turned around to the men behind him who collapsed in broken sequences of laughter.

He reached in his left pocket and withdrew a small transparent bag with a few green buds inside it – Cannabis.
“This is one of the finest strains of weed you can find in the Hidden Dust. You’d be lucky to get a few grams – dozens fight for it” he announced proudly with a smirk.
Aijo raised her chin and stared at him in disbelief, however both of their attention was drawn to the sound of creaking wood in the distance.

An older-looking man with a blunt in his mouth was parked at the gambling table when he opened a large, dust-infested window behind him.
“There, the smoke should leave the room now” he claimed as smoke began pouring out of the room into the open streets of Hokorigakure where it became an unexpected visitor to a civilian.
“What the hell?!” the voice of a senior citizen cried out as he began to cough like a madman on the street.
It was no lie when Vizier said the smoke would leave the room, but it was a surprise to everyone as to how quickly it all happened.

“I am here to request your assistance”
“The government are segregating my family and we are scarce of resources. We will die out if we do not receive help soon” Aijo was desperate for the Blackbox aid.
Nibui cleared his throat and adjusted his focus on her.
“Listen” he swallowed briefly
“We don’t want to be involved with the government, one false move could result in our incarceration”
“I don’t know how informed you are but the Hidden Dust has several organisations and groupings that are in constant warfare with each other. We tend to stick under low suspicion but it’s not uncommon for battles to occur on the main roads where civilians walk” Nibui explained thoroughly and accurately.

“So… you are unable to help us?” Aijo grew nervous. Her stomach turning.

“We are doomed if we become a high suspicion within the village. All our efforts will go down the drain and every single member will be locked up”
“I unders-“ her frustration was unexpectedly cut off.
Vizier was startled and turned around to the window behind him.
“Stop running, boy!” a rough voice came from the distance
“Kimoto..?” Vizier tried to make out the figure in the distance dashing towards the window.
A young boy with a black cloak and black shorts was darting across the dusty streets, bumping and squeezing through flocks of citizens. He was trailed by a group of shinobi. Their faces were covered with a black cloth and they wore hoods. They wanted to… kill him.

“They have some sort of yellow badge on their arms” exclaimed Aijo in confusion
“…Tatsujiin” Nibui muttered as he squinted in disgust
Kimoto lost balance and tripped up as the rivals gained ground behind him - that was the cue for Blackbox to engage.
Every member disappeared from the hideout and onto the streets, leaving behind nothing but a cloud of dust.

Nibui withdrew a kunai during his transition and lunged forward into the first enemy after Kimoto.
The Tatsujin shinobi was not prepared for this encounter as Nibui’s thrust forward with the knife was powerful; ripping through the cotton of the opposition’s shirt and directly into his chest. Blade in contact with bone.
Several more stabs followed in a rapid motion as his life came to a halt. Tatsujin were fazed at the scenery – jaw-dropped with fear.

Civilians panicked and took shelter inside buildings. Some were alerting law enforcement.
The street was empty, the only present beings were two teams with Nibui in the center and a corpse in his arms.
“Oh my God” Aijo gasped and covered her mouth
Nibui was not impressed.
“Get inside” he ordered Kimoto without turning around. His eyes were locked on the man in his arms.
He drew his bloodied arm back and yanked the knife out before letting the corpse fall face-down beside him.

General Discussion / SLO Weekly #3
« on: March 01, 2017, 00:17:07 »
SLO Weekly
Issue #3

Hey there! I apologise for the irregular ‘SLO Weekly’ releases, and I understand that the gap between this issue and the previous one is immense, so thank you for being patient!
The Scribe’s Guild in general has been slacking a lot recently and not much is being produced without any fault of their own. I take responsibility for the lack of leadership and low levels of motivation – if any.

SLO General History Lore
Our writers Whatasnipe and Malix have been working hard on creating history for the SLO universe and have given the community a number of scenarios to pick from. Essentially this is a poll to determine which lore the game will be based on. Every user has 2 votes which they can cast – vote now before it’s too late! Thread can be found here.
A big thanks to @Whatasnipe and @Malix for this!

Last Friday Vreg raised the hopes of many eager shinobi by stating that the kenjutsu update will be available to Chunin+ Donators for early-stage testing last weekend. It has now been around 5 days since that and needless to say; many users are drowning in disappointment… God damn it, Vreg! Oh well, what else would you expect?; legend has it that one human weekend is the equivalent to a month in Vreg time.

The Art of Ass – a sequel
After a long period of procrastination from my initial thread which was simultaneously successful and caused an uproar, I released my sequel ‘The Art of Ass’ which admittedly was not as great as expected. This was predictable considering there was not much to discuss on the topic. The thread can be found here

Manuster Tsukegami
First of all I would like to say; Well done, Manu, you have finally become a Sennin Poster. Looks like your shitposting has finally (somewhat) paid off. Make sure to congratulate him when you see him!

On another note; Manuster has released yet another interesting and thrilling chapter to his novel. Those who follow his writing know how much patience is required for his long-awaited written pieces.
You can find his latest chapter here

That’s all for this issue of SLO Weekly! If you think I’ve missed anything major out, make sure to message me as soon as possible.

Now listen to some music to shake off the mood and relax;

General Discussion / The Art of Ass
« on: February 25, 2017, 11:13:59 »
The Art of Ass

This thread does not include explicit content. Suitable for 10+.

That lovely, round, soft and squishy bag of fat that rests at the rear end of every human being is the butt, also known as ‘the ass’. Although it is appreciated on both male and female bodies, without question it is mostly praised and glorified on the female gender and is sometimes used as a tool for sexual pleasure.

Many women and girls worldwide are influenced by social media and female celebrities from all around the world by the physical bodies displayed. They act as role-models and are seen as figures of perfection, so naturally the young female would make attempts to mimic and replicate such bodies. One of the most focused areas is the ass.

We live in a funny era where young females would work on improving the size and shape of their ass, ultimately opening an exhibit on social media with images that deliberately focus that region of their body. Why do they do this? Are they sexually frustrated? Maybe someone who can relate could answer these God-given questions.
The butt is amazing not only because of its impressive and mystical elements, but also because it has many uses. It’s like the ‘Swiss Army Knife’ of human body parts.

This blessed part is very versatile and can be used for every-day things like;
-   Acting as a stand when holding a piece of equipment in place by jamming it in-between both cheeks.

-   If you don’t have anywhere to place your plate of food on, then your partner’s ass is probably the second best choice after a flat surface.

-   It is a living weapon embedded onto the human. You can send someone flying across Europe if you hit them hard enough with your ass. Not only this but the ass also has a tiny entrance in-between both cheeks that can be used for many things, but most naturally is used for chemical warfare… oh yes, I’m talking about the farts.

-   One of the most common uses for an ass is the fact that it can become a musical instrument. It is completely fine to use your butt as drums, but make sure you don’t turn drumming into BDSM spanking when utilising the one on your partner.

-   You can sleep on the ass!

When out in the public, or anywhere really, it is completely fine to squeeze your partner’s ass. This not only shows that you claim dominance over them, but is also an act of affection that has the potential to spark up arousal depending on the atmosphere. DO NOT spank your partner's ass if they are wearing leggings and it is cold outside. This will bring unholy pain upon their butt. Squeezing it however is fine at all times.

Once you have claimed ownership and dominance over your partner's ass, you must make sure they dress appropriately when going out alone. The last thing you want is other males staring at her ass. Your partner may even be prone to predators depending on the choice of clothing.

This concludes my thread on ‘The Art of Ass’.
Hope to see you around.

Drawings / Snoopy drawing #3
« on: February 18, 2017, 12:24:17 »
This is a piece I drew for @mizormac. Inspired by the urban culture, and yes; I used the Spiderman pose.
It looked much better when it was just sketches, I still need to learn how to colour in properly and apply shadows and shading.

General Discussion / The Art of Blowjobs
« on: February 12, 2017, 15:50:16 »
The Art of Blowjobs

Warning: Mature audiences only

Blowjobs are a work of art. They can be creative, innovative and genuinely a great experience for both partners. However at the same time they can be disappointing and painful.

Before asking your partner if they are interested in engaging in such activities with you, it’s always good to ask whether they are okay with the amount of hair that surrounds your cannon. I would personally advise you shave the shaft, sac, and trim the surrounding area. A neat trim is nice and wouldn’t require you to be completely bald around that region, not only will it look bad, but your hair will regrow even quicker and thicker if you decide to go all out. Most partners are okay with a mowed lawn around the post, a-lot of them are also repulsed if you have a bush.

A few hours before you meet up with your partner to undergo such operations, you must cleanse that area… cleanse it well. Take a shower in-fact. Make sure you polish the cannon with the freshest shower gel you have. I highly recommend ‘Head & Shoulders Mint’ as it is really minty, even if it’s a shampoo. You may feel slight burning and uncomfortable sensations for a few minutes but can last up to an hour… It’s all worth it though. Your partner will be satisfied and so will you.

It is very important that your partner is comfortable with what they are about to do. Do not pressure them or put them in a state of hurry – let them take their time when handling your genitals. You can even have a friendly conversation whilst they wield your sword in their hand(has happened to me lool).

NEVER push them towards your area because unless they have no respect for themselves, they will immediately cease operation and give you a hefty slap and probably not talk to you for the rest of the day. The only times pressing your partner towards your groin area is acceptable is either if they are a prostitute and paid to do this, or they are extremely horny and lack respect for themselves.

When receiving a blowjob and it’s your partner’s first time, do not be fooled by what you’ve seen on Pornhub where they press their heads down forcing a gag. Always keep in mind that your partner is NOT a pornstar (or who knows? Maybe you are dating a pornstar… you lucky dog!) and they are bound to have a bad time dealing with the gagging until they get used to it.

If this is your first time experiencing the art of ‘succ’, then you will be disappointed if you expect the same things as you’ve seen on the computer. The actors in those scenes appear to enjoy it greatly but you really don’t actually know what they feel.

Once her cave has been entered, you are bound to feel a bit of teeth at the beginning – this is completely normal and a lot of people have experienced this. You are also prone to feel the top of his/her mouth… you know, the little sickle-shaped holes near your teeth. Surprisingly enough it’s rather hard to distinguish between tongue and other parts.

If your partner is unexperienced then they will most likely stay to the standard ‘up and down’. Google is your friend if you’re confused. This is completely fine, but you may be disappointed because it will be very hard for you to climax, especially if your partner proceeds at a slow pace; however do not blame your partner, consider yourself lucky she’s even putting that thing in her mouth. If you want a varied experience, I would highly recommend you give them useful websites where they can learn techniques (personal method of mine). It is also a good idea to direct your partner whilst they’re at it, giving them basic suggestions like: “Go faster”, “Use the tongue more” or “Use your hand at the same time”. But of-course your experience will become more pleasant as your partner gains experience through practice.

After you’ve established that your partner will perform ‘the great succ’ on you, you have to ask whether they spit or swallow. Most people who are unexperienced and slightly uncomfortable with your blaster will say spit… because who wants to swallow your magic? On the other hand; your partner may be more open and comfortable and swallow your babies. Both are completely fine.

If you manage to release your kids whilst she’s blowing, then congratulations; you’re weak and have premature ejaculation.. nah I’m joking. But well done. There are however people (champions) who struggle to climax from sucking so they have to either get their partner or themselves to use their hands in a rapid motion to speed up the climax in order to spread magic into the world. Either one is fine, and I hope you don’t feel patronised if you climax just from succ loool.

Welp. If she swallows then you don’t have anything to clean up. If she chose to spit… then I’m sorry. But hey, in the end you got the succ!

After you are finished, she may decide to continue - this will bring a lot of pain upon you. I highly advise you tell your partner to stop. If they refuse to stop, then they genuinely want you to feel pain. Sorry bro.

General Discussion / Nature and I
« on: February 02, 2017, 01:12:17 »
My journey to the bridge was a struggle with the shackles around my bare feet
Skin began to slowly tarnish, but this felt angelic compared to the path I departed

From the beginning I would dream of soaring the skies like a bird   
I would dream of the freedom to explore new lands and ideas, and people and emotions alike
Not too long ago, my heart was in a happy place, a cherished land that was frowned upon by others; but in my view this was the most beautiful thing my eyes have rest upon. Like the crisp perspective of a new-born.

This land… the land I adored, and cared for and looked-after with my dear life would be anchored to a constant state of depression and would often self-deteriorate. The ones held responsible are the sick-minded vultures that fed off her natural beauty and fragile confidence.

My heart would often ache and struggle to breathe knowing that my home and passion was slowly being torn apart by them, and I couldn’t do much about it.

Countless times I rebuilt my dear with my personal insufficiencies – filling up the gaps where the vultures fed. However as time went by, it became evident to me that my effort was futile and her scars surfaced once more.

This is where the line was crossed – I could no longer watch my baby in pain
I hid beneath her during night-time and she thought I was insane
It was time for the vultures to feed and I could hear them coming from afar
But what my baby didn’t know was that I had revenge on stand-by in my car
They came and began to feast from front to back – I jumped from behind and engaged an attack
Loaded up with fat chunks of anger, put a smile on my MAC
Blown by surprise, their existence was hanging on a string
They could hear the flute of death and agony, but I never knew my child could sing
Babygirl was damaged but was shocked and feared what she saw
This is the first time she came second, because my eternally-bound girl wanted more
So I loaded up as she spat out the metal, and continued to graciously roar
Now we have a few corpses and not a word to say
Before I could comfort my baby, she threw me astray
And the sirens constantly dance in my head as I was taken away

It’s been 25 years and it’s clear to me now that I would never see her again.
How she was once a nearby island, she has now moved away.
There was no point in enduring more pain when my only life went down the drain.
After a long walk, I approached the bridge - my final destination
Took a deep breath, closed my eyes and stood in front of the nation
My feet grew cold, but not nearly as much as my soul
I lean forward and leap into the distance, I wanted to see how low I could go
No, I don’t have my baby but I do have something else
I finally feel the breeze of the wind as I soar through the air
I feel like the birds in the sky, and I don’t have a single care
The shackles have broken and I experience the freedom I’ve always wanted
I guess this is all I needed, nature and I have finally bonded

Our hearts are monsters, that’s why they’re locked in a cage.


My journey to the bridge was a struggle with the shackles around my bare feet
He literally struggled getting to the bridge due to the metaphorical shackles that have been placed around his feet. The shackles represent the emotional stress that has built up within him that delay his movement and this is why he strolls to his destination. The bridge not only stands as a physical structure in the story but also a symbol to show that he will cross to the other side – life after death. The narrator is walking bare foot which suggests that he has lost all support; essentially he is stripped of anything that could keep him from progressing in life smoothly and with comfort– shoes.

Skin began to slowly tarnish, but this felt angelic compared to the path I departed
The fact that his feet are literally wearing off from walking towards the bridge is nothing in comparison to the emotional journey he has passed.

From the beginning I would dream of soaring the skies like a bird   
I would dream of the freedom to explore new lands and ideas, and people and emotions alike

The narrator would dream of being free like the birds in the skies when he was a child. His ambition was to explore new lands, possibly bring innovation with new ideas, meet new people and experience various emotions.

Not too long ago, my heart was in a happy place, a cherished land that was frowned upon by others; but in my view this was the most beautiful thing my eyes have rest upon.
The narrator gave his love to a lady and she was his happy place. She represents Mother Nature and was the land he cherished. However there were people who constantly frowned upon and bullied her due to her physical appearance, nevertheless, to him, she was the most beautiful being he laid his eyes on.

Like the crisp perspective of a new-born.
When a baby opens its eyes to the world for the first time, everything is jaw-dropping to them. They fall in love with the things they see, especially their mothers.

This land… the land I adored, and cared for and looked-after with my dear life would be anchored to a constant state of depression and would often self-deteriorate.
The love of his life would often succumb to depression and self-harm due to it.

The ones held responsible are the sick-minded vultures that fed off her natural beauty and fragile confidence.
The ones responsible for this are the negative people who feed off her low self-esteem and fragile confidence that can easily be broken.

My heart would often ache and struggle to breathe knowing that my home and passion was slowly being torn apart by them, and I couldn’t do much about it.
The narrator would feel hurt knowing that his lady is being treated this way. His heart “struggles to breathe” which suggests that it feels such emptiness and sorrow to the point where it drowns on itself. The narrator couldn’t do much about this because these bullies were only present in her workplace or place of residence.

Countless times I rebuilt my dear with my personal insufficiencies – filling up the gaps where the vultures fed.
The narrator gave up his own insecurities to comfort his loved one as much as possible. Essentially replacing the stolen or broken parts she harnessed, such as; self-confidence, self-security etc.

However as time went by, it became evident to me that my effort was futile and her scars surfaced once more.
However the negativity was persistent and all his effort to restore his broken lover were pointless, and all her scars showed again. Scars would imply both physical from self-harm and psychological like; depression, anxiety and discomfort.

This is where the line was crossed – I could no longer watch my baby in pain
He can no longer tolerate this.

I hid beneath her during night-time and she thought I was insane
His lover unknowing of his intentions let him into her personal world where all the bullies lurked. This could be her workplace or another part of her area of residence. “Hid beneath her” links back to the idea that she is Mother Earth and he is hiding under a layer of land, or in other words; he is sneaking around her residence at night time.

It was time for the vultures to feed and I could hear them coming from afar
But what my baby didn’t know was that I had revenge on stand-by in my car

It became apparent that the bullies were coming, either by their appearance or by their attitudes towards his lover when they saw her. However she does not know that he has a gun at the back of his car, ready to go off. The gun is presented by the idea of revenge.

They came and began to feast from front to back – I jumped from behind and engaged an attack
The bullies began interacting with her, displaying negative energy and feeding off the last bits of confidence she has, but before they could feast further, the narrator showed up out of the blue and began shooting.

Loaded up with fat chunks of anger, put a smile on my MAC
He specifically used ‘fat and chunky’ bullets, wider than the standard and they are displayed as anger from within the narrator, this makes his gun (a MAC-10) happy because it is finally being used. An alternate meaning is that the narrator is slowly transforming into the weapon because it is starting to use nouns such as smiling.

Blown by surprise, their existence was hanging on a string
They could hear the flute of death and agony, but I never knew my child could sing

They were literally blown away from the bullets in an ambush, and they were almost dead, hence “their existence was hanging on a string”. The whole situation sounded like death being played on a flute, however the narrator is impressed because his child – the gun – could sing. It sounds like music to his ears.

Babygirl was damaged but was shocked and feared what she saw
This is the first time she came second, because my eternally-bound girl wanted more

His lover watched on the side-lines in shock and feared what was happening, ultimately fearing the narrator. There is a nice play on words “First time she came second”, the narrator is implying that this is the first time he will ignore the needs of his lover and listen to what the gun wants – more blood and gore. “Eternally bound” suggests that she has never been used before and this triggers her urge for combat.

So I loaded up as she spat out the metal, and continued to graciously roar
He reloaded with ammunition as the gun continued emptying the clip and releasing bullets. The weapon ‘roared’ with pride.

Now we have a few corpses and not a word to say
Before I could comfort my baby, she threw me astray
And the sirens constantly dance in my head as I was taken away

The aftermath caught on and everyone is silenced, shocked and confused by what happened, and before the narrator could get back to his girlfriend, she abandoned him out of fear. The police sirens were constantly playing in his mind as he was taken away and incarcerated.

It’s been 25 years and it’s clear to me now that I would never see her again.
How she was once a nearby island, she has now moved away.

The narrator received a ‘life sentence’ (25 years) imprisonment and he is now out. He also realizes that his lover is long gone and would never see her again. We go back to the idea that she represents Mother Earth when he compares her to an Island that he used to live on, and she has drifted from his life.

There was no point in enduring more pain when my only life went down the drain.
The narrator finds no use in crying or feeling sadness and sorrow from within, he accepted the fact that his opportunity to be with his lover has now expired.

After a long walk, I approached the bridge - my final destination
Took a deep breath, closed my eyes and stood in front of the nation

He finally snapped back in reality and realizes he’s reached the bridge, his ‘final destination’ both travel wise and in terms of life on earth.
He then prepares for death by taking a deep breath, closing his eyes and standing directly towards the populated city.

My feet grew cold, but not nearly as much as my soul
I lean forward and leap into the distance, I wanted to see how low I could go

The fact that his feet grew cold gives us the impression that he’s standing on a high point on the bridge, but the coldness he experienced was no-where near as much as his soul, which also implies that it is empty, lonely and void.
He leans forward and free-falls.

No, I don’t have my baby but I do have something else
He reminds himself that he no longer has his lover, but acknowledges that he has gained something else.

I finally feel the breeze of the wind as I soar through the air
I feel like the birds in the sky, and I don’t have a single care

His childhood dream has become a reality and is ultimately achieved right before his departure from this world. He feels like a bird, free and careless as he falls through the air. This is the only dream that has never betrayed him and stuck with the narrator throughout his entire life.

The shackles have broken and I experience the freedom I’ve always wanted
I guess this is all I needed, nature and I have finally bonded

The shackles of depression and sadness have finally come off as he experiences the freedom he has always wished for. The narrator comes to realize that this is what he needed all along, and like the birds, he has finally bonded with nature – his lover, in the after-life.

Our hearts are monsters, that’s why they’re locked in a cage.
Some of the things we do for love can be seen as monstrous, and this is why our hearts are locked up within the rib-cage – another deep message for you to discover.

Drawings / Hey, I drew me
« on: January 29, 2017, 12:29:53 »
Feedback appreciated

General Discussion / My heart at your mercy
« on: January 23, 2017, 20:41:04 »
I gave you everything that I had, my heart, my soul and my attention
For you I gave all my savings – I pushed away my hobbies and family, not to mention
Every single morning I would leave you a heartfelt message that you would ignore
All these paragraphs and images that you store, but you send none back, what for?
Why do I have to constantly bug you to reply? Only to find a half-assed response that makes me sigh
In the beginning it was bearable, but progressively grew worse
I now open the curtains with a depressed mind set, knowing that my messages are meaningless and inside it hurts.
I changed almost completely just to fit your ideal
What was once a ‘big man’ is now a ruined boy waiting for his heart to heal
I wonder what it’s like for someone to put 100% effort into me
I don’t know… Why don’t you tell me? How does it feel?
Well done, you made a big man cry
Who would have guessed that a little girl would drain my soul dry
I would spend countless days at school in silence wondering why I’m down
A void within me was starting to form due to the lack of effort I received, but I didn’t make a sound
Looks like the phrase “Die in silence” had a more literal meaning
But I still endured it all, and my love for you kept gleaming
They say in relationships there is trial and error
At first I didn’t believe that, but it seems this was my trial and you were the error
I was the victim and you were the terror
You were the shadow, and I was the torch-bearer
I remember when we first got together, I didn’t think life could get any better
Now I see things from a different view, and they could have definitely been fairer
I hope you now understand why I’m usually not in the mood
Regardless of all the times you said it, I still don’t think I’m your perfect dude
Not even the sharpest tools could bottle up this pain
But it’s too late now, my arm is leaking from the vein
Hopefully this will erase your stain
Metaphorically speaking – I shouldn’t have sheltered you from the cold, harsh rain.

General Discussion / The 'London roadman' games!
« on: January 15, 2017, 18:08:41 »
I have no fucking life, lmfao... but here goes:
I was taking a shower when a thought suddenly clouded my mind.

What is this?
The 'London roadman' games are a series of competitions to see who can produce the best and most realistic sentences using words from my dictionary.
Each round or episode is a week long and there will be rankings that reset every Sunday. Along with a weekly leader board we will also have an all-time leader board to determine who is the best of all time.

Points and titles:
The rankings go up to top 10 but only the top 3 receive titles according to their points.
1. Driller - You are at the top of the leader board with more points than anyone else.
2. Young G - Second best. Still young and learning but you have the potential to get up there!
3. Yute - Third and most demeaning title. You are the yute here. A young boy in the crew.

5 points - Excellent sentence. Realistic and I won't be able to distinguish you from a real driller.
3 points - Fine sentence, you've got a good structure. Acceptable.
1 point - Bare minimum. You tried, but you're still a scrub.

  • You have a week to submit your entries in hopes of reaching maximum points in order to claim the title
  • You are allowed a maximum of 5 sentences per day
  • The sentences have to be at-least 10 words long
  • You are not allowed to directly steal lyrics from songs
  • You DO NOT have to put a slang term throughout your entire sentence. It'll only look shit.
Post your work below!

Leader board and much more to come depending on whether people actually participate.
It'll be sad if nobody cares but oh well, thought this is a fun event.

Leader board
1. Nas - Driller - 19 points
2. DrSuhi - Young G - 10 points
3. Mars - Yute - 5 points
4. RyanFlashfire - 5 points

Thanks for your time :*

General Discussion / London slang dictionary for SLO |WIP|
« on: January 15, 2017, 15:12:16 »
Wagwarn, community! (lol)
Recently we’ve been discussing grime and the urban culture of modern London (specifically the Northern and Southern regions) with some members in the Discord chat. We went through how gangs operate and some other shit, but most importantly the language that circulated the urban regions.
I have decided to put together a London slang dictionary for you guys to refer to when listening to grime tracks, and more specifically drill.

Gang related
Jump Out Gang - A collaboration between Harlem Spartans, 67 and 86.
67 - Major powerhouse in London. Pretty much controls the drug and weapon exchanges in South London. Based in Brixton.
86 - Neighbouring and allied gang with 67. Based in Brixton again.
Harlem Spartans - Part of JOG. Fairly new but dangerous and recently active gang based in Kennington.
Ounto Nation - Large gang in North London. Not sure how much of an impact they have or their attitudes towards the south. Based in Tottenham.

Aggy – Aggressive
“Nigga, don’t get me aggy”
Aggro – Aggressive
Amm – Amnesia. A strand of Indica breed weed.
“I get loads of money from trapping Amm”
Ahlie – A London slang word for ‘I know right’
“Mars: The Shinobi exams were retarded
Snoopy: Ahlie”
Allow it – Go easy on something. Let it go.
“Misi: Give me all your SLO coins!
Jcryer: Allow it, please!”
Aired - When you get ignored, whether it be a read message without reply or in real life.
"Lol, man got aired"

Bare – Loads. When somebody or yourself has a lot of something.
“I got bare jewels on my neck”
“She’s chatting bare”
“Man’s got bare problems”
Bands – A large sum of money wrapped in a rubber band. Usually £1000 or more.
“This watch cost me 5 bands”
“I spent 20 bands on this whip”
Bando – The house where drugs are produced, packed and sometimes sold.
“Chillin’ in the bando”
Bredrins – Brothers.
Bells – Type of bullets for a shotgun.
Bun – Ugly or Attack
“That girl is bun, fam”
“If he acts up, we’re gonna bun him”
Bruck/Brukk – To break something.
“Bruck up man’s face”
“Got that weed, bruck it all down”
“Your bro got brukk up”
“I bruck my dik” (Requested by Accelerator)
Body – To “catch a body” means to kill somebody.
“SJ caught a body on Tuesday”
Bait – When something is obvious1, and when someone is being exposed2.
1.   “Ken: Cover yourself with a shirt if someone catches you wanking
Mars: Nah, man, that’s too bait”
2.   “Reminance: I saw Chikai give head to some guy on SLO
Nova: Bait her out fam”
Block – Neighbourhood/Estate
Bird – A girl.
“Who’s that bird?”
Batty – Big ass. Can also mean gay.
“She got that big batty”
“He’s a battyboy”
Bossman - The owner of a shop. Usually corner store. Anyone can be bossman regardless of race.
"What's up, bossman?"
Beef - Conflict between two or more people.
"There's beef on the courts"
Blanked - Ignored
Beg - Someone who is needy
"He's a beg"
Bumbaclart - Something you wipe your ass with. So the English equivalent will be 'Asswipe'. The word can also be a substitute for "fuck".
"Friend performs an evil prank on you
A: Bumbaclart..."
Bludclart/Bloodclart - Blood cloth. Bloody tampon or other substance. Used to describe an annoying person. Big insult.
"What a bludclart"

Corn – Bullets
“Loading the iron with corn”
Crash – Raid/Invade
“We crashed the opp block”
Creps – Trainers
“Look at my fresh creps”
Case – Court Case. When someone has been caught by the police, they may get a court case depending on what crime they have committed.
“I ain’t trynna catch no case”
Chunky – Usually describes fat bullets. Wider than the standard.
“Chunky corn”
“Chunky stones”
Chase – To “Hold a chase” means to run away from someone.
“When we went through your hood, you were holding chase”
Cah – Because.
“Whatasnipe: Needa go sleep, cah man’s tired”
Can – Jail.
“Free my bros in the can”
Clip – The magazine on a gun.
“He emptied the clip on these niggas”
Crud – Shit. When somebody talks shit.
“He’s talking crud”
Cats – Drug consumers.
“I sold to dem cats”
Cheffed – Cut up/killed.
“He got cheffed up on the main road”
Clapped - Someone ugly.
"Rah, he's clapped as fuck"
'Chete - A machete

Driller – A driller is a respected gangster, known for committing crimes like robbery, murder and trapping and most of all sticking with his gang and repping his ends.
“Krazyy: You know Abz, yeah?”
“Snoopy: Yeah bro, he’s a real driller”
Dotty – Street term for a shotgun.
“Got tha’ Dotty in the bag”
Ding-dong – A cheap car.
“Skrr round with the ding-dong”
Dash – Also known as “Dasheen” or “Dashing”. When someone runs away in fear.
“Them man dasheen”
Dough – Money/Drugs
“I make that dough”
Dead up – Killed.
“Someone’s gonna get dead-up”
“He got dead-up”
Dip – Stab. Can also mean to run away or hide.
“Dip man down”
“He got dipped”
"He dipped from the area"
Dashed - When something gets thrown
"He dashed a chair out the window"
Dun Know! - Almost like... "Cmon!" or "You know it!" a celebration of sorts.
"A showing off muscles
B: Big guns bro!
A: Dun know!"
Dead - When something is unwanted/unattractive/unfitting. For example, a 'dead ting' would be someone unattractive. Or, if you went for a party that was boring, or even heard an unfunny joke, you'd say 'that's dead'.

Ends - English equivalent to the American 'Hood'
"These are my ends"
"What ends are you from?"

Fry – To shoot someone up. (Past tense|Fried)
“He got fried”
Fields – In a field or a less populated place. Definitely not main road.
“Don’t leave your Gs when you’re in the field”
Fam - Family or friend
"What's up, fam?"

Gyaldem – Group of girls. Opposite to ‘mandem’.
Grub - Drugs
"I'm selling grub"

Head – Blowjob.
Hench - Strong/Muscly
"Fuck, that guy's hench"
Hollow tips - Types of bullets that expand on impact to cause maximum damage.
"My hollow tips will put man down"

Iron - Gun
"There's live corn in the iron"

JOG – Short for ‘Jump Out Gang’. A collaboration between Harlem Spartans, 67 and 86.


Lurk – Going round searching for opps to kill.
“Lurking round with the gang”
Likkle/Lickle – Small or young. Often used when talking about people.
“Likkle man sit down, you don’t wanna get skied”

MAC – MAC-10, a machine pistol often mentioned in drill songs.
“Bro put 20 in the MAC”
Mandem - Group of males, usually referring to your friends but can also refer to opps.
"Free up the mandem"
Man-like! - When you praise someone, usually your bro for doing something that will give him rep.
"A: I just got the new Js and a bird
B: Man like!"
Myth - A lie
"Lol, nah fam, that's a myth"
Merk/Murk - When something/someone is almost if not completely destroyed
"He merked it"
"He got merked"
Mazza - Madness. When something is too much.
"A: Rah, you see all dem yutes beefing?
 B: Yeah g, it's a mazza"
Mash/Masha - Gun
"I raise my mash on the streets"


Opps – Opposition. The rivals.
“Splash an opp boy”
On my ones – Going somewhere alone.
“I was on my ones”
Ounto – Arabic for ‘food’, also used as a reference for drugs by gangs in the North.
“I smoke on the Ounto”

Peng – An attractive person.
“He/she is peng”
Pum – Jamaican slang for ‘vagina’ or ‘pussy’.
“She has a smelly pum pum”
Pagan/Paigon - A traitor
"How can man be wearing Adidas AND Nike? What a paigon!"
"Don't trust that yute, he's a paigon"
Qwengerz – An ugly girl.

Racks – Loads of money.
Rushed – Beaten up. Warning shots.
“He came to the wrong block and got rushed”
Rambizzy - Another word for 'Rambo', a knife.
"Big rambizzy by my side"
Roadman - A young adult or man in his 20s who generally has no education and has joined a gang. A real roadman is equipped with weaponry, not afraid to get jailed and is involved with trapping.

Skrr – Also known as ‘Skrt’ is the sound the wheels of a vehicle makes when it starts to drift. This is used in drill tracks to show that a car is being used.
“Skrr round your block”
Spinner – A revolver.
“My bro got the spinner”
Smoke – Gunfire / to kill someone.
“He got smoked”
“We ain’t leaving till we see smoke”
Scoreboard – The imaginary scoreboard of gang rivalry, who’s leading in territory, trapping etc.…
“67: Scoreboard is looking great”
Splash – To stab someone to the point where he’s flowing in blood.
“Splash man down then leave”
Sprayed – When someone is showered in bullets.
Skeng - A knife
"Skeng in my pocket, can't you see he bulge in my coat?"
Sket - A slut
Slag - A slut
Shook - Scared
"He was shook"
Shank - A knife. Also means stab.
"He's got a shank in his pocket"
"He got shanked"

Tum-tum – Gun.
“Got that loud tum-tum”
Ten-toes – Walking.
“We went ten-toes in the opp block”
Trapping – The exchange of drugs for money.
Traphouse – The building in which drugs are made and packed.
T-Side – The Tottenham region of London. AKA Snoopy’s residence.
“Don’t come to the T, head back”
Tops – Blowjob.
“She gave that sloppy toppy”
Trek - A long journey
"Walking over there is a trek"

Uck/Uckers – Blowjob.


Whip - Car
Wagwarn/Wahgwan - When you greet someone. Jamaican slang again.
"Wagwarn, where're you?"


Yute(s) – Young people.
Yard - A house
"I have a free yard" (Implies your house is empty and can host friends over)

This is still work in progress. Message me if you have something to add.

Tracks where some of these words are used:

Big shout out to those who contributed to the dictionary!

General Discussion / Happy New Year 2016 >> 2017
« on: December 31, 2016, 22:39:57 »
Don't know how many of you will be on tonight, but here's a happy new year from myself and @Touka

Hope everyone has a great evening and is fortunate enough to celebrate with family and friends. Hope you guys are all safe and make a soft breakthrough into the new year.

Loads of warm wishes and love,
Snoopy & Touka

General Discussion / Nibui Ennia Roiyaru
« on: December 10, 2016, 23:34:55 »
Chiri no wakai ōji.
Art by: @CaioDarT
Name: Nibui Ennia Roiyaru
Status: Reincarnated
Age: 16
Weight: 70KG/160lbs
Height: 190cm/6’2”
Body type: Mesomorph
Hair type: Medium length. Middle parting. Straight.
Hair colour: Oily black with lighter shade at the tips.

Eye colour: Dark brown.
•   Bags under eyes.

Face: Oval face shape, with a general outlook of tiredness.
Skin: Tanned.
Clothes: Black fully-unbuttoned shirt with knee length grey shorts. A general scruffy outlook.

•   Two golden pendants waving across his chest with diamond plated pentagrams on both.
•   A fat diamond ring on his left index finger.
•   A blue dummy in his mouth. Keeps him quiet most of the time.

Dominant hand: Right
Combat style: Close range swordsmanship and ranged ninjutsu attacks

•   Founder of Blackbox organisation.
•   Patriarch of Ennia house Roiyaru.

•   Subconsciously taps the tip of his sword when his attention is drawn elsewhere.
•   Likes to paint the middle finger on his left hand black.
•   Plays with his hair when thinking.


Rumour has it that Nibui is armed with a vast arsenal of techniques, tricks and a great inventory of mediocre sword skills.
Locals know him as a user of unusual, yet powerful fire and earth techniques, some of which have not been identified or examined yet. People have made attempts at learning and copying his abilities, but failed every time.
Some of his known abilities have been listed below:

“Ground transmission”

Nibui becomes one with the earth, sliding beneath the surface and has the ability to instantly emerge from anywhere within the radius of 50 metres. This has proven to be an effective combat technique, especially for ambushing.

“Formless control”
Nibui is able to control a small amount of sand at will without technical limitations. Chakra is only used up when a large portion (5m x 5m) of sand is manipulated. This gives him the freedom to create almost any object or weapon to use in battle.

“Body replacement”
At all times Nibui’s body is shielded by sand that perfectly replicates his body features. This means that potentially if his arm is ripped off, it would only take off the sand replica and expose his true limb. After a replica is destroyed, it goes on an 8-hour cooldown before it can be fully restored. Ultimately this technique gives Nibui a second chance if he is to be fatally wounded.


Nibui is clumsy and careless at nature, which really limits his swordsmanship when wielding his favourite melee weapon – the Katana. He shows little respect and dedication towards the art of kenjutsu and could almost be said to walk around with a katana with the only purpose being to look somewhat intimidating. He is mediocre at best with a sword and doesn’t rely on it as much as you’d expect.

Nibui is a kind and warm-hearted boy most of the time. He is naturally a loud mouthed person but over the years has lost motivation, ultimately becoming a silent troop in the dust. He may have a cold and void outlook to strangers, but has a deep, tender and affectionate inner nature that he rarely shows.

Nibui is not the most talented ninja, nor is he intelligent. He is clumsy in most aspects of life; whether it be failing to get around the area due to poor navigation skills, or win futile arguments against his comrades.

He is considered a loyal member of the Ennia clan and a faithful patriarch of the house based in the Hidden Dust – Roiyaru.

Nibui? Nibui, the name that echoes across the hottest sand dunes. The name attached to a young man who is wanted dead or alive. A foreigner to the land he inhabits. Nibui, the young prince of Dust.

Little is known about him. One of his earliest appearances was during the Great War which involved the Ennia clan. Conflict unfolded within the Hidden Dust as 4th generation family members were declined access to resources within the country, they were indirectly pushed aside from society and implicitly pressured into leaving.

The clan was largely outnumbered but remained persistent. They were in desperate need of someone. A saviour.
“None of these citizens will help you, they rely too much on the government and would not dare turn against it” a local merchant explained to the desperate woman from the family. He was a dwarfish man with a plaited grey beard that swung from left to right every time he walked.
“However, I know a certain group that may be able to help you. These guys have been performing black operations for a very long time, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to get work done in exchange for money or other services”
A flash of red swept across her cheeks as she was overwhelmed by the information given. Aijo was her name, and she was on the verge of exile from the Hidden Dust. She wore basic cloths and was equipped with a single dagger that was jammed between her right hip and belt.

She followed the merchant through underground tunnels. The sides were crumbling and it was hard to breathe in the thick enclosure.

“They go by the name of ‘Blackbox’, not a large number of troops but they are capable of getting a job done. Their work-rate is usually high, but have been stationary recently - you can tell by the decreased number of murders this month” he chuckled as they fell to an abrupt stop before a wooden gate with a small slit near the top.

“…I pray they can help us” she mumbled in despair.

The short man stepped forth and released three knocks on the door before backpedalling and staring at the slit.
“Go get it” a muffled voice commanded from the inside. It was rather deep but soft and soothing at the same time. Like a muscular chocolate rabbit.

A loud bang came from inside. The sound of cutlery and porcelain plates could be heard vibrating against a wooden table as footsteps neared the gate.

“They’re not too friendly --” she spoke up before becoming alert as the metal gap slid open.
The eyes of a tired and dull man peered through the gap.

 “What do you want?”

The merchant cleared his throat
“I bring you this woman who is desperate for your assistance. Her family is low on resources and would be kicked out soon if nobody stands up against the corrupt government”
The eyes shifted to the back where Aijo stood.

“Please, sir. It’s all I’ve got” she raised a small leather sack that jingled with coins.

The man on the inside readjusted his focus to the merchant and shook his head in disappointment.
“Leave” he demanded before swiftly shutting the slit. The merchant grunted with anger.
“No, this can’t be!” Aijo cried out and began banging on the door
“Help us!”

“There’s no use. I doubt they’ll o—“he was unexpectedly interrupted by the sound of locks being picked. The metal shifted within the gate followed by silence.
The little man exhaled with relief and pushed the door open. Aijo’s face glowed up as a bright spark of hope broke out within her.
They both stepped through and noticed several guys huddled around a circular wooden table throwing cards around. Spilled drinks and broken glass bottles were scattered everywhere, and plates had unfinished meals on them, some still warm. The air stank of tobacco and the atmosphere was thick with smoke. It was hard to notice small things around the room.

Aijo and the merchant were soon noticed when every face was turned towards them. Everyone had eyebags and tired expressions. As if they have lived more than once. Nobody had motivation.

The man who greeted them was standing by the door to their left. He was a tall figure of lust and stared deep into the eyes of the guests. A handsome grey-haired man with emerald eyes. He wore a white shirt with the top button undone. A stained red tie was loosely positioned on his neck. Silk black trousers devoured his shirt.

Aijo felt uneasy and blushed, but quickly readjusted.
“I—I come here because I was informed that the organisation would be helpful in aiding my comrades. A battle has broken out between the Ennia family and the government of the Dust, and nobody is willing to do anything against them”

A yawn was disclosed from the back of the room and her eyes shifted through the smoke to find a young man slouched over a small, torn down wooden table with a glass cup in his right hand.

“Looks like the big guy’s finally up” one of the members spoke up from the cards table and exhaled smoke from his lungs before coughing.

The cup was chipped around the mouth-piece and liquid streamed off the edge of the table. His hair was parted in the middle. It was medium length and mostly oily black, except for the lighter edges. A black short-sleeve shirt, unbuttoned to the bottom rested on his shoulders. There were many creases on it and blood stains.

He looked around and waved his arms like the rotor on a helicopter in an attempt to clear the smoke that flooded him. He picked up a katana that lay stationary on the brown leather couch next to him and used it to support himself when standing up. He wore scruffy grey shorts and wooden sandals too big for his feet.

Another yawn escaped his mouth and he ruffled the back of his head.
Silence was quickly broken by the sound of metal jingling. Two golden pendants waved around the boy’s chest like ropes as he strolled towards the visitors.  He was tall – the tallest one there.
It wasn’t long before his right foot met the leg of the gambling table. He slouched over once more, almost falling over.
“Fuck sake…” he muttered under his breath as he got back up.
Everyone glared as he slowly made his way through the smoke and foul odour of alcohol.
The boy stepped between the men and the visitors and stared. Carefully examining the face of despair on the woman’s face.

The sound of his fruity voice was projected

Blah blah blah...
History to be continued and much more yet to come! Stay active! :)

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