HARPADARPA
HELP FIGHT SANDEN AND BRING RAGING BLADES WITH ME
I pushed myself off of the ground and got one last good look at my former… more college roommate. What a shit way to go. I almost wanted to stop and grieve, but there was no time, just like with Graysonn, and his whole plane of friends, push that mourning to the side and deal with the consequences later.
I grabbed a piece of glass off the floor, and I went to work. My first several cuts were on his back. He screamed, and turned to me, but when he wound up to punch me, dad caught his arm, and punched him in the side of his ribs. Raging came in with a wild flying kick. Sanden dove out of the way in time, unfortunately. GuiltyKing caught a kick to the chin.
Then I went to work again, once Tyranitar and dad held each of his arms to the floor. I only got one cut this time, and it was across the chest. Then Sanden kicked me in the stomach, with both feet, before wrenching away from … [view original content]
Dude, I wish. Currently I am chilling out somewhere with maybe just one arm...I dunno. I have a feeling that harp's death didn't only screw him over, but everyone who was with him as well. I have a feeling that there were so many plot possibilities lost when harp's plot reached the dead end. (heh)
(DISCLAIMER: FROM NOW ON, I WILL BE TRYING TO INCLUDE MUSIC IN EACH PART. I JUST WANT TO SEE HOW IT IS RECIEVED. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT GOING FORWARD, LET ME KNOW. SIMPLY OPEN IT IN A NEW TAB, AND LET IT PLAY AS YOU READ)
(www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlpMuCJGjxo)
Stache hasn't been feeling well. His arm's veins and shit were closed off properly, but he still looks like shit. I worry for the poor guy. He was skinnier than I'd ever seen him, and I'd known him since the two of us were in grade school. The guy spent most of his days now looking at baby books. Not any old baby books. The baby books of his two sons. Harp's had a bullet hole in the front cover, but none in the back. IWMT's was in good condition, for something that'd been through the apocalypse, and been around since the 1990s. Many photos weren't glued or taped on, and occasionally, one would fly away, and Stache would sprint after it. He wouldn't always bring a photo back. As time went on, we found scotch tape rolls abandoned in the street. I guess nobody wanted the weak tape. No practical uses for it. Harp's friend, Raging Blades, really started picking up slack after we lost Tyranitar, God rest his soul.
It was a hot summer day. Would be mid to late July, if we were keeping a calender. The San Francisco wind felt cool in our hair, as we sat upon the three story building by the bay. It was a nice night spent there, but we spent too much time here already. Walkers were attracted to our scent.
"Mustache, put the baby book away, we're about to head out."
He silently, and with depressed eyes, obeyed. The book was carefully shut, and into his backpack it went.
I lifted the detached toilet seat off of our... Waste bucket... And I tossed the bucket to the other side of the street. I had become practiced at this, so this time, no likely diseased, mixed shit and piss got on my hand, nor my clothes. Instead, it smeared along the wall on the building across the street. Walkers flocked from one side to the other. They followed our combined scent quite well. A helicopter flew overhead. It did not seem to be armed with anything except a currently deactivated spotlight. No doubt it was filming us.
We took our time walking down the steps outside of our building, giving the walkers in this building and the ones in adjacent buildings time to clear out. Eventually, when we did make it out of the building, the walkers were so obsessed with that shit on the wall, that we were able to simply stroll away. Raging held his hunting rifle, me, my uzi, and Stache, his revolver. Up the Hate we went. Hate Street, a street I knew well. Drug dealers were here a lot before the apocalypse, and on our little journey, I found that they never left. Fat Frank was still by the Indian shop, though before the apocalypse, he wasn't ever trapped under a telephone pole. KD was still here, though no longer by the mom and pop sort of locksmith. I wonder if the mom and pop locksmith were still in the shop, though. I noticed a sudden change in direction by someone with me. Out of the corner of my eye, I did not see who. Raging let me know before I could turn my head.
"Stache, whe-"
"SHH!" Stache stuck his outstretched index finger behind him. Drawing his revolver, he aimed carefully at some black dude down the street.
"Stache!" I whispered loudly, "That motherfucker's alive! Don't shoot!"
Still, his finger went on the trigger. I smacked his arm before he pulled it though.
BANG!
Quickly, Stache elbowed me in the ribcage before aiming and firing again. This bullet stuck. I saw the dude fall down, and that was that. I heard someone scream.
"SANDEN! OH FUCK!"
'Sanden?' I thought. Then I remembered. I no longer questioned his sanity.
The Walking Mustache smiled a sheepish grin. He dropped the gun. He stuck his stump to the left, and his arm to the right, in a Jesus pose, and I felt time slow down. Almost as if I was on DMT or something. He wanted to die. On the side of him opposite me, there was a car that seemed perfect for cover.
NO. HE'S GONNA SEE IWMT AGAIN. TACKLE HIM.
ON THE OTHER HAND, WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE HERE, ANYWAYS. MAYBE I SHOULD LET GO WITH DIGNITY TO SEE HARP.
GUILTYKINGOUMASHU
(DISCLAIMER: FROM NOW ON, I WILL BE TRYING TO INCLUDE MUSIC IN EACH PART. I JUST WANT TO SEE HOW IT IS RECIEVED. IF Y… moreOU DON'T LIKE IT GOING FORWARD, LET ME KNOW. SIMPLY OPEN IT IN A NEW TAB, AND LET IT PLAY AS YOU READ)
(www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlpMuCJGjxo)
Stache hasn't been feeling well. His arm's veins and shit were closed off properly, but he still looks like shit. I worry for the poor guy. He was skinnier than I'd ever seen him, and I'd known him since the two of us were in grade school. The guy spent most of his days now looking at baby books. Not any old baby books. The baby books of his two sons. Harp's had a bullet hole in the front cover, but none in the back. IWMT's was in good condition, for something that'd been through the apocalypse, and been around since the 1990s. Many photos weren't glued or taped on, and occasionally, one would fly away, and Stache would sprint after it. He wouldn't always b… [view original content]
GUILTYKINGOUMASHU
(DISCLAIMER: FROM NOW ON, I WILL BE TRYING TO INCLUDE MUSIC IN EACH PART. I JUST WANT TO SEE HOW IT IS RECIEVED. IF Y… moreOU DON'T LIKE IT GOING FORWARD, LET ME KNOW. SIMPLY OPEN IT IN A NEW TAB, AND LET IT PLAY AS YOU READ)
(www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlpMuCJGjxo)
Stache hasn't been feeling well. His arm's veins and shit were closed off properly, but he still looks like shit. I worry for the poor guy. He was skinnier than I'd ever seen him, and I'd known him since the two of us were in grade school. The guy spent most of his days now looking at baby books. Not any old baby books. The baby books of his two sons. Harp's had a bullet hole in the front cover, but none in the back. IWMT's was in good condition, for something that'd been through the apocalypse, and been around since the 1990s. Many photos weren't glued or taped on, and occasionally, one would fly away, and Stache would sprint after it. He wouldn't always b… [view original content]
GUILTYKINGOUMASHU
(DISCLAIMER: FROM NOW ON, I WILL BE TRYING TO INCLUDE MUSIC IN EACH PART. I JUST WANT TO SEE HOW IT IS RECIEVED. IF Y… moreOU DON'T LIKE IT GOING FORWARD, LET ME KNOW. SIMPLY OPEN IT IN A NEW TAB, AND LET IT PLAY AS YOU READ)
(www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlpMuCJGjxo)
Stache hasn't been feeling well. His arm's veins and shit were closed off properly, but he still looks like shit. I worry for the poor guy. He was skinnier than I'd ever seen him, and I'd known him since the two of us were in grade school. The guy spent most of his days now looking at baby books. Not any old baby books. The baby books of his two sons. Harp's had a bullet hole in the front cover, but none in the back. IWMT's was in good condition, for something that'd been through the apocalypse, and been around since the 1990s. Many photos weren't glued or taped on, and occasionally, one would fly away, and Stache would sprint after it. He wouldn't always b… [view original content]
WHAT. WHAT THE DUCK?! NO! NO! NO! HE NEVER TOLD ME. THAT... HOW COULD HE JUST LEAVE? I CAN'T MOVE ON! NO! WTF? WHY? I WAS NEVER TOLD OR INFORMED. NO GOODBYE? HE DIDN'T EVEN POST IT HERE! HE EVEN JUST LEFT IT OPEN ENDED!
Harpadarpa you disappoint me. Not even a goodbye. I will miss you but even less now. After all we've been through and you just leave... Anyway. Thanks for everything... I'm mad though and I don't know why I'm writing this if you can't see it...
Edit: Saw his thread about leaving. He seemed pretty mad but leaving the forum and game? Damn. Well I guess we all have our flaws but leaving us like that was not cool. I never saw him leave. He was like Molly to me, bad ass but ditched us. Well... So much for this thread...
Harp left. He's gone. Cleared out! He made a thread about it! He's gone! MOVE ON RAGING!
I'm sorry. that was uncalled for. but as I stated, harp left. about 5 days ago. He was serious. he's not coming back.
WHAT. WHAT THE DUCK?! NO! NO! NO! HE NEVER TOLD ME. THAT... HOW COULD HE JUST LEAVE? I CAN'T MOVE ON! NO! WTF? WHY? I WAS NEVER TOLD OR INFO… moreRMED. NO GOODBYE? HE DIDN'T EVEN POST IT HERE! HE EVEN JUST LEFT IT OPEN ENDED!
Harpadarpa you disappoint me. Not even a goodbye. I will miss you but even less now. After all we've been through and you just leave... Anyway. Thanks for everything... I'm mad though and I don't know why I'm writing this if you can't see it...
Edit: Saw his thread about leaving. He seemed pretty mad but leaving the forum and game? Damn. Well I guess we all have our flaws but leaving us like that was not cool. I never saw him leave. He was like Molly to me, bad ass but ditched us. Well... So much for this thread...
R.I.P Harpadarpa
Okay. Me and him kind of connected on opinions about Kenny, but he went a little far. I think he hates his guts now. We were like friends but this rage mode kind of makes me think otherwise.
But leaving the forum because you can't tell Kenny to f*** off? Doesn't make it any less right. You don't just leave because it sucks, you stay, and stick it out for those you care about. He can't just quit. It's a couple words, Jesus all y'all are making it worse. He can just... take a pill and drift off to typing. This is OUR WRITER. I love his stories more then life itself... (I won't kill myself obviously)
Sorry you guys had to see everything I said... Just angry that he left us like this. Well... There's a shitload of fan fic's and stories out there. The rest of us are reading and voting on that stuff.
You and Lee write much better stories in my opinion and I felt that before he left tbh
I'll be honest even if I hated the game and would never play it again I would still not leave the forum I come here for the users, fun and creativity mostly to read all the awesome story's so why quit over a character surely have to look at bigger picture in this forum
Okay. Me and him kind of connected on opinions about Kenny, but he went a little far. I think he hates his guts now. We were like friends bu… moret this rage mode kind of makes me think otherwise.
But leaving the forum because you can't tell Kenny to f*** off? Doesn't make it any less right. You don't just leave because it sucks, you stay, and stick it out for those you care about. He can't just quit. It's a couple words, Jesus all y'all are making it worse. He can just... take a pill and drift off to typing. This is OUR WRITER. I love his stories more then life itself... (I won't kill myself obviously)
Sorry you guys had to see everything I said... Just angry that he left us like this. Well... There's a shitload of fan fic's and stories out there. The rest of us are reading and voting on that stuff.
Comments
lolno
At least you have friends....
alright stop on both threads deal
so how is the story coming harp?
Is my guy the evil guy? I just saw this
Dude, I wish. Currently I am chilling out somewhere with maybe just one arm...I dunno. I have a feeling that harp's death didn't only screw him over, but everyone who was with him as well. I have a feeling that there were so many plot possibilities lost when harp's plot reached the dead end. (heh)
No seriously, please continue.
Anyway, looking forward for the next part.
(DISCLAIMER: FROM NOW ON, I WILL BE TRYING TO INCLUDE MUSIC IN EACH PART. I JUST WANT TO SEE HOW IT IS RECIEVED. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT GOING FORWARD, LET ME KNOW. SIMPLY OPEN IT IN A NEW TAB, AND LET IT PLAY AS YOU READ)
(www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlpMuCJGjxo)
Stache hasn't been feeling well. His arm's veins and shit were closed off properly, but he still looks like shit. I worry for the poor guy. He was skinnier than I'd ever seen him, and I'd known him since the two of us were in grade school. The guy spent most of his days now looking at baby books. Not any old baby books. The baby books of his two sons. Harp's had a bullet hole in the front cover, but none in the back. IWMT's was in good condition, for something that'd been through the apocalypse, and been around since the 1990s. Many photos weren't glued or taped on, and occasionally, one would fly away, and Stache would sprint after it. He wouldn't always bring a photo back. As time went on, we found scotch tape rolls abandoned in the street. I guess nobody wanted the weak tape. No practical uses for it. Harp's friend, Raging Blades, really started picking up slack after we lost Tyranitar, God rest his soul.
It was a hot summer day. Would be mid to late July, if we were keeping a calender. The San Francisco wind felt cool in our hair, as we sat upon the three story building by the bay. It was a nice night spent there, but we spent too much time here already. Walkers were attracted to our scent.
"Mustache, put the baby book away, we're about to head out."
He silently, and with depressed eyes, obeyed. The book was carefully shut, and into his backpack it went.
I lifted the detached toilet seat off of our... Waste bucket... And I tossed the bucket to the other side of the street. I had become practiced at this, so this time, no likely diseased, mixed shit and piss got on my hand, nor my clothes. Instead, it smeared along the wall on the building across the street. Walkers flocked from one side to the other. They followed our combined scent quite well. A helicopter flew overhead. It did not seem to be armed with anything except a currently deactivated spotlight. No doubt it was filming us.
We took our time walking down the steps outside of our building, giving the walkers in this building and the ones in adjacent buildings time to clear out. Eventually, when we did make it out of the building, the walkers were so obsessed with that shit on the wall, that we were able to simply stroll away. Raging held his hunting rifle, me, my uzi, and Stache, his revolver. Up the Hate we went. Hate Street, a street I knew well. Drug dealers were here a lot before the apocalypse, and on our little journey, I found that they never left. Fat Frank was still by the Indian shop, though before the apocalypse, he wasn't ever trapped under a telephone pole. KD was still here, though no longer by the mom and pop sort of locksmith. I wonder if the mom and pop locksmith were still in the shop, though. I noticed a sudden change in direction by someone with me. Out of the corner of my eye, I did not see who. Raging let me know before I could turn my head.
"Stache, whe-"
"SHH!" Stache stuck his outstretched index finger behind him. Drawing his revolver, he aimed carefully at some black dude down the street.
"Stache!" I whispered loudly, "That motherfucker's alive! Don't shoot!"
Still, his finger went on the trigger. I smacked his arm before he pulled it though.
BANG!
Quickly, Stache elbowed me in the ribcage before aiming and firing again. This bullet stuck. I saw the dude fall down, and that was that. I heard someone scream.
"SANDEN! OH FUCK!"
'Sanden?' I thought. Then I remembered. I no longer questioned his sanity.
The Walking Mustache smiled a sheepish grin. He dropped the gun. He stuck his stump to the left, and his arm to the right, in a Jesus pose, and I felt time slow down. Almost as if I was on DMT or something. He wanted to die. On the side of him opposite me, there was a car that seemed perfect for cover.
NO. HE'S GONNA SEE IWMT AGAIN. TACKLE HIM.
ON THE OTHER HAND, WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE HERE, ANYWAYS. MAYBE I SHOULD LET GO WITH DIGNITY TO SEE HARP.
Guilty: NO. HE'S GONNA SEE IWMT AGAIN. TACKLE HIM.
"You don't just give up because it's hard. You stick it out and help the folks you care about."
BUMP!
I'm sorry. that was uncalled for. but as I stated, harp left. about 5 days ago. He was serious. he's not coming back.
Harpadarpa you disappoint me. Not even a goodbye. I will miss you but even less now. After all we've been through and you just leave... Anyway. Thanks for everything... I'm mad though and I don't know why I'm writing this if you can't see it...
Edit: Saw his thread about leaving. He seemed pretty mad but leaving the forum and game? Damn. Well I guess we all have our flaws but leaving us like that was not cool. I never saw him leave. He was like Molly to me, bad ass but ditched us. Well... So much for this thread...
R.I.P Harpadarpa
But leaving the forum because you can't tell Kenny to f*** off? Doesn't make it any less right. You don't just leave because it sucks, you stay, and stick it out for those you care about. He can't just quit. It's a couple words, Jesus all y'all are making it worse. He can just... take a pill and drift off to typing. This is OUR WRITER. I love his stories more then life itself... (I won't kill myself obviously)
Sorry you guys had to see everything I said... Just angry that he left us like this. Well... There's a shitload of fan fic's and stories out there. The rest of us are reading and voting on that stuff.
I'll be honest even if I hated the game and would never play it again I would still not leave the forum I come here for the users, fun and creativity mostly to read all the awesome story's so why quit over a character surely have to look at bigger picture in this forum