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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Strider_Koln" data-source="post: 4637748" data-attributes="member: 78265">Grunting he pushes his fangs deeper, and deeper, the pain distracts him from the madness, but his life-blood tastes more like, well, dead-blood, not satisfying him at all. All around him he hears laughing, images flickering in front of him as if coming from an old-time projecter, the pig-taield girl providing the music on a piano as he sees himself trying to set fire to the hobo, hurling apples at the elderly while screaming Bible verses in Latin, thrusting a stake through the bloodied heart of a toaster-oven that he thinks is a devil, driving a schoolbus off a ramp through a pyramid of flaming televisions that all flicker with images of green clovers and bright rubies, and eagerly opening a coffin laying on an hill in an old countrysideonly to find the ashes of two lovers...and rather...heretics. Damned stupid desert birds that keep flying into the thorns... It all confuses him, excites him, angers him... and he feels hungry... He looks up under his hat with piercing green eyes locked onto the passed out bum on the street. His lips curl back, like an angry wolf ready to bite, but his maniacal hungry rage is interrupted by a squeak and the feeling of fur on his cheek. He violently turns his head to his shoulder, and is now eye to eye with Socrates, whom just looks up at him as if to say "You're better than this, knock it off." Embaressed, he nods, his face calming as he picks up the small white rat, nuzzling him to his cheek. "Thank you..."Koln waves, happily meeting the girls outside of the store with Socrates on his shoulder. By his demeanor he looks fine but you cannot help but wonder at the small drops of blood on the pavement that lead up to him. "So, are we all set? Interesting choice going for a violin Clover, I pray you do not try to use it as a weapon."</blockquote>

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