Post by Cynric the Crusader on Sept 29, 2018 22:00:01 GMT -5
Once upon a time in ye olde Chicago...
We find ourselves in the middle of what appears to be an old auditorium, its stadium-style wooden seating vanishing back into the darkness at the back. In the front, seated just before a grand stage are three personalities well known to UGWC fans.
Chaos: You sure he's comin'?
Ichabod: He'll be here.
Covert Jay: What's with all the missives lately? One sends pigeons, two send snakes, one sends snails--
Ichabod: Cynric sends the Bard. He was doing that before all the pigeons, the snakes, the owls, and the snails--
Covert Jay: To be fair, the snails are only just arriving having been sent months ago..
Chaos: I shoulda brought more beer.
Chaos grumbles, looking beside him at the now only half-filled cooler of Chadweisers, shaking his head at Ichabod as he takes a drink from his ice cold can. Before he can say anything, the lights on the stage dim, the well-known visage of Chauncey the Bard emerging out onto the stage, his lute, still painted with the Wylde spiral slung over his back.
Chauncey: My Lords, my Ladies...
The three men seated in the front look to each other and then around them, finding no one else in the theater. They all three shrugs as Chauncey continues to speak in a booming voice as though the entire place were filled.
Chauncey: Tonight, you will behold the most fantastic of returns, the most magical of wonders! Tonight, a great atrocity will be mended and tonight... the vampire who holds sway with her nephilim bride will be brought to account. Challenge shall be issued!
Chauncey's index finger spirals forth into the air with such vigor his heels are lifted off the stage.
Chauncey: It shall be a night of drama, derring-do, a night where the wrongs shall all be righted in the world, for once again, my sire, Cynric the Crusader walks among us!
Chaos: Was he dead?
Chauncey glares down at interruption.
Chauncey: Nay. My sire has instead spent the past two years in silence... just to better understand the sound... of a whisper...
Chauncey enunciates the words dramatically, covering his mouth as if overcome by emotion at the thought of Cynric's sacrifice.
Ichabod and Chaos look to each other and chuckle.
Covert Jay: There will eventually be some Cynric in this Cynric exhibit, yes?
Chauncey seems to snap to attention.
Chauncey: I have the pride, the privilege, nay, the pleasure of introducing to you a crusader sired by crusaders, a crusader who can trace his lineage back beyond Charlegmagne! In fact, if you study his genealogy enough, you'll find that not only does his lineage trace back beyond that most noble of knights, but in a time-traveling snaffu, Cynric is actually the originator of his own line, and his nobility has only built upon itself.
He brings his lute around, strumming on it for a time.
Chauncey: When I first met him, he was on his knees, praying to God for the Alliance blood spilled upon the blade of his sword. Next, he amazed me still further right here in Chicago, when he became the first to show that the dreadful serpent, Baal--
Chauncey spits to the side at the name.
Chauncey: Could indeed be defeated. And so, without further gilding the lily and with no more ado, behold, the rock, the hard place! Blown far from his home land in search of glory and honor! We walk in the garden of his turbulence... CYNRIC THE CRUSADER!!!
Chauncey seems to be awaiting something, Chaos finally shouting “Huzzah!” out the side of his mouth, the three in attendance jumping in their seats as applause and virulent cheers erupt around them from speakers that seemed to suddenly appear. How did they appear? I dunno. Blame lazy writing.
The lighting on the stage goes fully out.
Chaos: Better watch your spot on the announce team, Jay, Chauncey may take it.
Covert Jay: Ninja say whaaaaat?
Ichabod: … no.
A screen before them lights up, a film reel obviously about to play as the speakers crackle.
Chaos: Fuck sake, what now?
As “I Need a Hero” blares out over the three of them, Cynric the Crusader makes his triumphant appearance on stage, matching the maneuvers and feats shown on the film as he mimics them across the stage to great theatrical endeavor. He swordfights (see: with himself) and wins, saves yon fair maiden (see: mop), and arises from being only “mostly dead” (see: having a brief nap). At the end of it all, the spotlight shines upon the glowing golden blonde of his head as he bows before the three men in attendance.
The screen rises behind him as Covert Jay leaps to his feet with enthusiastic applause. Cynric raises his head, a confident smirk on his lips, his eyes going straight to the towel wrapped around Jay's head. His eyes widen and he gasps, swiftly drawing the sword from the scabbard at his hip and pointing the blade at Jay.
Jay's eyes widen at this sudden turn of events.
Cynric: Sir! I must insist that you loosen yon headgear that I and others may look upon thee in truth!
Jay touches the towel around his head.
Jay: But that's my ninja wrap...
Cynric's blade remains unwavering as he jumps down easily from the stage and moves closer to Jay, keeping him at the pointy end of the blade.
Cynric: And I have seen in a moving picture once where a particularly crafty and nasally-challenged wizard ensorcelled the back of a man's head, hiding himself within the rag. I can not in good conscience ignore the possibility of such happening again. Never fear, dear fellow, for if it is so, your death will be swift and painless. I shall remove your head from your shoulders myself.
Chauncey: Isn't he a wonder?
Covert Jay looks to Ichabod and Chaos.
Covert Jay: Help.. me...
Chaos cracks open another beer in glee.
Chaos: You kiddin'? This shit just got good. Unwrap that fucker, Cynric, let's see what he's got!
Covert Jay: Ichabod?!
Ichabod: You heard the man. Cynric is looking for a quarrel.
Chauncey: Actually, it's Quirrel--
Cynric: Quarrel, sir?! No, sir!
Ichabod sighs.
Ichabod: That's Shakespeare. Cynric, you're mixing up your timelines again, and as entertaining as it is to see this choad nearly pissing himself--
He looks at Jay with disgust.
Ichabod: – there was a point to all this if you'll recall.
Cynric seems to take Ichabod's words into account and nods.
Cynric: Very well, Warlock.
His gaze moves to Jay, turning more menacing.
Cynric: This isn't over.
He slams the sword back into its scabbard, the snap of it making Jay jump. Cynric turns and hops back onstage, Jay only then taking his seat.
Cynric: Now then. It has come to my attention that in the great tome of UGWC history, mine own name, Cynric the Crusader has been... forgotten. Is that so?
Chaos: Hey, you ain't exactly done anything in two years, Cynric--
Cynric indicates the screen behind him.
Cynric: As you can see, I've been quite busy in two years time.
Ichabod: Odd. Chauncey seemed to imply you'd taken a vow of silence to... what was it, Chauncey? To better understand the sound of a whisper? That seems awfully familiar...
Ichabod trails off, tapping his chin.
Cynric blows a raspberry.
Cynric: Are you kidding? Me, silent? Why, just ask the Pretty Yet Nefarious Prince, he knows all-- oh. Ahem.
Cynric stops expanding on his friendship with 'Vain' Alan Wallace, seeing the glower set upon Chaos' countenance.
Cynric: Be that as it may-- I have been informed via my Bard, Chauncey, that there is a manner in which these egregious actions may be corrected.
Covert Jay: Y-you could be in the DLC package...
His voice quavers as he speaks up, meeping when Cynric looks at him once more. Jay seems to fixate on the sword at his hip, going silent. There, makes it easier to just uses two for the rest of this thing, right? Right. And it works for the story. Go me.
Chaos: You play WoW, I know you know how DLC works, Cynric.
Cynric raises an eyebrow, looking to Chaos suspiciously.
Cynric: Be ye... Horde or Alliance?
He asks the question cautiously, as if his very relationship with 'The Drunken Buzzsaw' hinges on his answer.
And it does.
Chaos snorts and pulls two Chadweisers from the cooler, tossing one to Cynric and one to Chauncey.
Chaos: FOR THE HORDE!!!
The three of them cheer and drench themselves in a shower of white foam and pale, golden beer that would make 'Stone Cold' Steve Austin nod his head and say “That's what's up”.
Ichabod rubs his forehead.
Ichabod: We're getting nowhere-- alright, why should we choose you, Cynric?
Cynric stares at Ichabod as if he's grown two heads.
Cynric: Pardon?
Ichabod: Why. Should we. Choose. You?
Cynric seems perplexed by the question.
Cynric: Well. Why wouldn't you? Look at me--
He stands before them in inexplicable peak physical health, belying the fact that he frequently sustains himself on energy drinks, sour candy straws, and flamin' hot cheetos while he goes on a 1337 streak in PVP slaughtering nasty Alliance toons. His blonde hair perfectly catches the lights, not a strand out of place even after the shower of beer and his dramatic exertions earlier. The golden goatee that adorns his face is pristinely barbered, emphasizing his perfectly masculine features just so. Cynric strikes a heroic pose, feet braced shoulder-width apart, hands on his hips.
Ichabod: Yeah, Cynric, that's fantastic and all, but we have other options--
Somewhere, a needle scratches on a record player, the resulting sound heard throughout the auditorium.
Cynric: Pardon?
Ichabod: We have other options. Namely, your opponent for this week.
Chaos: Yeah, that's another question, Cynric, why are you back all of a sudden?
Cynric: As you may have heard foretold, I have finally acquired a new Quest-Giver, and she, the fair maiden that is Celeste Worth, would have of me join in the endeavors... of the Chill brand!
Ichabod and Chaos share a grin.
Ichabod: So Wallace and Candi wanted some private time after his win and kicked you out of the mansion for a few days, that sum it up?
Cynric visibly wilts.
Cynric: Aye.
Chaos: Hey, don't your Quest-Givers have a habit of dyin--
Chauncey makes a sound that drowns out Chaos' words, everyone other than Cynric looking to the Bard who is vehemently shaking his head and making throat-slashing maneuvers.
Chauncey: Cool it.
Ichabod: Anyway. Why you, Cynric? As this marvelous bastard beside me pointed out, you haven't really been around in two years. In fact, the last time we saw you compete was at Outlast two years ago. We--
Cynric: Ah yes. That was when you helped me reacquire my beauteous steed, Henriettea--
Ichabod to Chaos in an aside: Most gorgeous fucking stallion I've ever seen and he names the damn thing Henrietta--
Cynric: And your confused and possibly cursed friend Holden helped me rescue Chauncey from evil clutches.
Chauncey stares forlornly at the fading Wylde spiral still on his lute, remembering how for a short time he'd been drowning in pussy, weed, and alcohol in an orgy of concerts one after the other.
Chauncey: Rescued. Yeah.
Ichabod: Yeah, man, we did all that and then you just-- poof. Vanished.
Cynric looks off into the mists of time.
Cynric: It was that damned sell-sword Killian King. He dared to besmirch the honor of my greatest of Quest-Givers, Sir Bowie--
He drops to a knee, bowing his head respectfully.
Cynric: Sir Bowie, The Most Amazing and Beloved, Oh God, Why Him, Most High Quest Giver, Why?!
Chauncey drops with Cynric, repeating the name word for word before the two of them quickly rise as though nothing out of sorts had happened.
Cynric: He emerged from the back, carried forth by the sirenous sounds of “Fame”... and I must admit that I completely lost myself for a time.
Ichabod: While I understand--
Cynric: I am still his Crusader!
His cry is muffled as tears form, Chauncey fetching forth a box of 'Ye Olde Extra-Quilted Maudlin Tissues', Cynric dabbing at his eyes.
Ichabod: Right. So again, I'll ask, why should you even be on the DLC, Cynric? Can we expect this to be a thing, or will you again... lose yourself?
Cynric: Who can know the future, Warlock, other than-- oh-- well I suppose you can.
Cynric chortles at his own humor, Ichabod rolling his eyes.
Cynric: Chauncey, dazzle them with your lute while I compose myself.
Chauncey: Of course, Sire!
Chauncey steps between Cynric and the three men, bringing his lute around in front of him, strumming it less like a lute and more like one might an electric guitar. Oddly, the sound emitting from it is quite like an electric guitar... except a lute.
Chauncey: Narcissistic, animalistic
Yes, my dears, this is Cynric
Beauty king, murdering
Everyone who is lesser
After tangling with him
You'll need a destresser!
Ichabod: Chauncey....
Chauncey: Even just looking at him
Magnifies your fears
You can hear the cheers
Or do they fall on deaf ears?
If you happen to engage in one of his brawls
He'll defeat you before Chauncey can say “Balls!”
Chauncey drops to his knees, doing an excellent imitation of how hair band guitar players once behaved.
Chaos: What the actual fuck--
Cynric: Alright, I'm okay to continue now.
Chauncey: Dammit, I never get to the chorus...
Cynric claps Chauncey on the shoulder encouragingly.
Cynric: Now then, why me? Because I bring the entertainment, gentlemen. I challenge you to name one time that my name has appeared within the registry of the land of UGWC where I have not drawn a crowd of supporters. In fact, you have only to look at earlier editions of the historical tomes to see how well anything that even hints of me sells. Cynric the Crusader is what fans want to see, Cynric and his Bard Chauncey, not the screechy vampire.
Chaos and Ichabod share a look.
Cynric: That's who we're talking about, aren't we? The spoiled vampire who screams a lot and throws things? The one married to the nephilim-- you know, I did think she might have been part water nymph at first, but Chauncey asked her and she said she can't swim.
Cynric rolls his eyes.
Cynric: And that's just preposterous, a water nymph who can't swim? What's next, a wizard who can't whiz?
Ichabod: A naiad.
Cynric: Pardon?
Ichabod: A water nymph is called a naiad, and you've gone off topic once again.
Chaos: Yeah, I'm almost outta beer.
Chaos belches and then lights a cigarette, Ichabod doing the same. I've just realized I've had the two serial smokers of UGWC without a cigarette this entire RP. My god.
Cynric seems to take Ichabod's educational words and absorb them.
Cynric: Right you are, oh wise Warlock! Now then, where was I?
Chaos: Fuck only knows... alright! I've got... two beers left. I'm drinking one, and Ichy here is drinking one. You have until we finish to get something out and convince us.
The two of them crack open the beers in unison.
Cynric begins to pace on the stage.
Cynric: I suppose I could tell you the tale of how I was set upon by cannibalistic gummy bears, one of which was green and wore tighty whiteys... had a bite taken out of his ear... they were all singing this horrendous song, and perhaps if it were more sped up it might have been only annoying, but as it was, the chills, gentlemen, the chills..
Cynric begins to sing the tune creepily.
Cynric: Oh... I'm a... gummy bear... yes I'm a... gummy bear...
Ichabod: Okay, that's some disturbing shit.
Chaos: Hey, when this guy says your shit is disturbing, your Baal levels. Ease up, Cynric!
Cynric spits to the side at the mere mention of Baal's name. He probably did it again just because I typed it in narrative.
Ichabod: Half done by the way!
Cynric: Charlatans! Alright! I shall show you Monday on Chill exactly why I should be a part of the DLC, and why Cynric the Crusader will always be more interesting, more heroic, more sought after even after two years away than a screechy, spoiled vampire female whoopsie!
Chauncey suddenly hits a button, the sounds of Sarah Gracklan's screams and screeches echoing through the theater. The three men in the audience cringe, Ichabod and Chaos both spilling their beer at the sudden, ear-piercing sound.
Chaos: Fucking turn it off!!
Chauncey quickly hits the off button, the screams dying. Cynric stands unaffected on the stage, removing the wads of cotton from his ears that no one had seem him use. The three men scowl up at him as Cynric tucks the cotton balls in his belt.
Cynric: I shall employ these in our match, Monday.
Ichabod: Cynric, Sarah is no joke. You better show up ready or she's going to make another example out of you.
Cynric flashes Ichabod a most winning smile.
Cynric: And yet, in my short and supposedly ineffective duration in UGWC, I've come closer to touching the Holy Grail than she ever has.
He winks, Ichabod laughing.
Ichabod: Yeah, alright. Just... be there.
The three start to walk out, Cynric suddenly looking to Chauncey.
Cynric: Wait! Did I get it?
Chaos: Get what?
Cynric: The DLC?! I have one more thing to add!
Chaos and Ichabod turn back around tiredly.
Ichabod: What's that?
Cynric: I come with references.
Snoop Dogg suddenly appears on stage.
The curtain drops.
We find ourselves in the middle of what appears to be an old auditorium, its stadium-style wooden seating vanishing back into the darkness at the back. In the front, seated just before a grand stage are three personalities well known to UGWC fans.
Chaos: You sure he's comin'?
Ichabod: He'll be here.
Covert Jay: What's with all the missives lately? One sends pigeons, two send snakes, one sends snails--
Ichabod: Cynric sends the Bard. He was doing that before all the pigeons, the snakes, the owls, and the snails--
Covert Jay: To be fair, the snails are only just arriving having been sent months ago..
Chaos: I shoulda brought more beer.
Chaos grumbles, looking beside him at the now only half-filled cooler of Chadweisers, shaking his head at Ichabod as he takes a drink from his ice cold can. Before he can say anything, the lights on the stage dim, the well-known visage of Chauncey the Bard emerging out onto the stage, his lute, still painted with the Wylde spiral slung over his back.
Chauncey: My Lords, my Ladies...
The three men seated in the front look to each other and then around them, finding no one else in the theater. They all three shrugs as Chauncey continues to speak in a booming voice as though the entire place were filled.
Chauncey: Tonight, you will behold the most fantastic of returns, the most magical of wonders! Tonight, a great atrocity will be mended and tonight... the vampire who holds sway with her nephilim bride will be brought to account. Challenge shall be issued!
Chauncey's index finger spirals forth into the air with such vigor his heels are lifted off the stage.
Chauncey: It shall be a night of drama, derring-do, a night where the wrongs shall all be righted in the world, for once again, my sire, Cynric the Crusader walks among us!
Chaos: Was he dead?
Chauncey glares down at interruption.
Chauncey: Nay. My sire has instead spent the past two years in silence... just to better understand the sound... of a whisper...
Chauncey enunciates the words dramatically, covering his mouth as if overcome by emotion at the thought of Cynric's sacrifice.
Ichabod and Chaos look to each other and chuckle.
Covert Jay: There will eventually be some Cynric in this Cynric exhibit, yes?
Chauncey seems to snap to attention.
Chauncey: I have the pride, the privilege, nay, the pleasure of introducing to you a crusader sired by crusaders, a crusader who can trace his lineage back beyond Charlegmagne! In fact, if you study his genealogy enough, you'll find that not only does his lineage trace back beyond that most noble of knights, but in a time-traveling snaffu, Cynric is actually the originator of his own line, and his nobility has only built upon itself.
He brings his lute around, strumming on it for a time.
Chauncey: When I first met him, he was on his knees, praying to God for the Alliance blood spilled upon the blade of his sword. Next, he amazed me still further right here in Chicago, when he became the first to show that the dreadful serpent, Baal--
Chauncey spits to the side at the name.
Chauncey: Could indeed be defeated. And so, without further gilding the lily and with no more ado, behold, the rock, the hard place! Blown far from his home land in search of glory and honor! We walk in the garden of his turbulence... CYNRIC THE CRUSADER!!!
Chauncey seems to be awaiting something, Chaos finally shouting “Huzzah!” out the side of his mouth, the three in attendance jumping in their seats as applause and virulent cheers erupt around them from speakers that seemed to suddenly appear. How did they appear? I dunno. Blame lazy writing.
The lighting on the stage goes fully out.
Chaos: Better watch your spot on the announce team, Jay, Chauncey may take it.
Covert Jay: Ninja say whaaaaat?
Ichabod: … no.
A screen before them lights up, a film reel obviously about to play as the speakers crackle.
Chaos: Fuck sake, what now?
As “I Need a Hero” blares out over the three of them, Cynric the Crusader makes his triumphant appearance on stage, matching the maneuvers and feats shown on the film as he mimics them across the stage to great theatrical endeavor. He swordfights (see: with himself) and wins, saves yon fair maiden (see: mop), and arises from being only “mostly dead” (see: having a brief nap). At the end of it all, the spotlight shines upon the glowing golden blonde of his head as he bows before the three men in attendance.
The screen rises behind him as Covert Jay leaps to his feet with enthusiastic applause. Cynric raises his head, a confident smirk on his lips, his eyes going straight to the towel wrapped around Jay's head. His eyes widen and he gasps, swiftly drawing the sword from the scabbard at his hip and pointing the blade at Jay.
Jay's eyes widen at this sudden turn of events.
Cynric: Sir! I must insist that you loosen yon headgear that I and others may look upon thee in truth!
Jay touches the towel around his head.
Jay: But that's my ninja wrap...
Cynric's blade remains unwavering as he jumps down easily from the stage and moves closer to Jay, keeping him at the pointy end of the blade.
Cynric: And I have seen in a moving picture once where a particularly crafty and nasally-challenged wizard ensorcelled the back of a man's head, hiding himself within the rag. I can not in good conscience ignore the possibility of such happening again. Never fear, dear fellow, for if it is so, your death will be swift and painless. I shall remove your head from your shoulders myself.
Chauncey: Isn't he a wonder?
Covert Jay looks to Ichabod and Chaos.
Covert Jay: Help.. me...
Chaos cracks open another beer in glee.
Chaos: You kiddin'? This shit just got good. Unwrap that fucker, Cynric, let's see what he's got!
Covert Jay: Ichabod?!
Ichabod: You heard the man. Cynric is looking for a quarrel.
Chauncey: Actually, it's Quirrel--
Cynric: Quarrel, sir?! No, sir!
Ichabod sighs.
Ichabod: That's Shakespeare. Cynric, you're mixing up your timelines again, and as entertaining as it is to see this choad nearly pissing himself--
He looks at Jay with disgust.
Ichabod: – there was a point to all this if you'll recall.
Cynric seems to take Ichabod's words into account and nods.
Cynric: Very well, Warlock.
His gaze moves to Jay, turning more menacing.
Cynric: This isn't over.
He slams the sword back into its scabbard, the snap of it making Jay jump. Cynric turns and hops back onstage, Jay only then taking his seat.
Cynric: Now then. It has come to my attention that in the great tome of UGWC history, mine own name, Cynric the Crusader has been... forgotten. Is that so?
Chaos: Hey, you ain't exactly done anything in two years, Cynric--
Cynric indicates the screen behind him.
Cynric: As you can see, I've been quite busy in two years time.
Ichabod: Odd. Chauncey seemed to imply you'd taken a vow of silence to... what was it, Chauncey? To better understand the sound of a whisper? That seems awfully familiar...
Ichabod trails off, tapping his chin.
Cynric blows a raspberry.
Cynric: Are you kidding? Me, silent? Why, just ask the Pretty Yet Nefarious Prince, he knows all-- oh. Ahem.
Cynric stops expanding on his friendship with 'Vain' Alan Wallace, seeing the glower set upon Chaos' countenance.
Cynric: Be that as it may-- I have been informed via my Bard, Chauncey, that there is a manner in which these egregious actions may be corrected.
Covert Jay: Y-you could be in the DLC package...
His voice quavers as he speaks up, meeping when Cynric looks at him once more. Jay seems to fixate on the sword at his hip, going silent. There, makes it easier to just uses two for the rest of this thing, right? Right. And it works for the story. Go me.
Chaos: You play WoW, I know you know how DLC works, Cynric.
Cynric raises an eyebrow, looking to Chaos suspiciously.
Cynric: Be ye... Horde or Alliance?
He asks the question cautiously, as if his very relationship with 'The Drunken Buzzsaw' hinges on his answer.
And it does.
Chaos snorts and pulls two Chadweisers from the cooler, tossing one to Cynric and one to Chauncey.
Chaos: FOR THE HORDE!!!
The three of them cheer and drench themselves in a shower of white foam and pale, golden beer that would make 'Stone Cold' Steve Austin nod his head and say “That's what's up”.
Ichabod rubs his forehead.
Ichabod: We're getting nowhere-- alright, why should we choose you, Cynric?
Cynric stares at Ichabod as if he's grown two heads.
Cynric: Pardon?
Ichabod: Why. Should we. Choose. You?
Cynric seems perplexed by the question.
Cynric: Well. Why wouldn't you? Look at me--
He stands before them in inexplicable peak physical health, belying the fact that he frequently sustains himself on energy drinks, sour candy straws, and flamin' hot cheetos while he goes on a 1337 streak in PVP slaughtering nasty Alliance toons. His blonde hair perfectly catches the lights, not a strand out of place even after the shower of beer and his dramatic exertions earlier. The golden goatee that adorns his face is pristinely barbered, emphasizing his perfectly masculine features just so. Cynric strikes a heroic pose, feet braced shoulder-width apart, hands on his hips.
Ichabod: Yeah, Cynric, that's fantastic and all, but we have other options--
Somewhere, a needle scratches on a record player, the resulting sound heard throughout the auditorium.
Cynric: Pardon?
Ichabod: We have other options. Namely, your opponent for this week.
Chaos: Yeah, that's another question, Cynric, why are you back all of a sudden?
Cynric: As you may have heard foretold, I have finally acquired a new Quest-Giver, and she, the fair maiden that is Celeste Worth, would have of me join in the endeavors... of the Chill brand!
Ichabod and Chaos share a grin.
Ichabod: So Wallace and Candi wanted some private time after his win and kicked you out of the mansion for a few days, that sum it up?
Cynric visibly wilts.
Cynric: Aye.
Chaos: Hey, don't your Quest-Givers have a habit of dyin--
Chauncey makes a sound that drowns out Chaos' words, everyone other than Cynric looking to the Bard who is vehemently shaking his head and making throat-slashing maneuvers.
Chauncey: Cool it.
Ichabod: Anyway. Why you, Cynric? As this marvelous bastard beside me pointed out, you haven't really been around in two years. In fact, the last time we saw you compete was at Outlast two years ago. We--
Cynric: Ah yes. That was when you helped me reacquire my beauteous steed, Henriettea--
Ichabod to Chaos in an aside: Most gorgeous fucking stallion I've ever seen and he names the damn thing Henrietta--
Cynric: And your confused and possibly cursed friend Holden helped me rescue Chauncey from evil clutches.
Chauncey stares forlornly at the fading Wylde spiral still on his lute, remembering how for a short time he'd been drowning in pussy, weed, and alcohol in an orgy of concerts one after the other.
Chauncey: Rescued. Yeah.
Ichabod: Yeah, man, we did all that and then you just-- poof. Vanished.
Cynric looks off into the mists of time.
Cynric: It was that damned sell-sword Killian King. He dared to besmirch the honor of my greatest of Quest-Givers, Sir Bowie--
He drops to a knee, bowing his head respectfully.
Cynric: Sir Bowie, The Most Amazing and Beloved, Oh God, Why Him, Most High Quest Giver, Why?!
Chauncey drops with Cynric, repeating the name word for word before the two of them quickly rise as though nothing out of sorts had happened.
Cynric: He emerged from the back, carried forth by the sirenous sounds of “Fame”... and I must admit that I completely lost myself for a time.
Ichabod: While I understand--
Cynric: I am still his Crusader!
His cry is muffled as tears form, Chauncey fetching forth a box of 'Ye Olde Extra-Quilted Maudlin Tissues', Cynric dabbing at his eyes.
Ichabod: Right. So again, I'll ask, why should you even be on the DLC, Cynric? Can we expect this to be a thing, or will you again... lose yourself?
Cynric: Who can know the future, Warlock, other than-- oh-- well I suppose you can.
Cynric chortles at his own humor, Ichabod rolling his eyes.
Cynric: Chauncey, dazzle them with your lute while I compose myself.
Chauncey: Of course, Sire!
Chauncey steps between Cynric and the three men, bringing his lute around in front of him, strumming it less like a lute and more like one might an electric guitar. Oddly, the sound emitting from it is quite like an electric guitar... except a lute.
Chauncey: Narcissistic, animalistic
Yes, my dears, this is Cynric
Beauty king, murdering
Everyone who is lesser
After tangling with him
You'll need a destresser!
Ichabod: Chauncey....
Chauncey: Even just looking at him
Magnifies your fears
You can hear the cheers
Or do they fall on deaf ears?
If you happen to engage in one of his brawls
He'll defeat you before Chauncey can say “Balls!”
Chauncey drops to his knees, doing an excellent imitation of how hair band guitar players once behaved.
Chaos: What the actual fuck--
Cynric: Alright, I'm okay to continue now.
Chauncey: Dammit, I never get to the chorus...
Cynric claps Chauncey on the shoulder encouragingly.
Cynric: Now then, why me? Because I bring the entertainment, gentlemen. I challenge you to name one time that my name has appeared within the registry of the land of UGWC where I have not drawn a crowd of supporters. In fact, you have only to look at earlier editions of the historical tomes to see how well anything that even hints of me sells. Cynric the Crusader is what fans want to see, Cynric and his Bard Chauncey, not the screechy vampire.
Chaos and Ichabod share a look.
Cynric: That's who we're talking about, aren't we? The spoiled vampire who screams a lot and throws things? The one married to the nephilim-- you know, I did think she might have been part water nymph at first, but Chauncey asked her and she said she can't swim.
Cynric rolls his eyes.
Cynric: And that's just preposterous, a water nymph who can't swim? What's next, a wizard who can't whiz?
Ichabod: A naiad.
Cynric: Pardon?
Ichabod: A water nymph is called a naiad, and you've gone off topic once again.
Chaos: Yeah, I'm almost outta beer.
Chaos belches and then lights a cigarette, Ichabod doing the same. I've just realized I've had the two serial smokers of UGWC without a cigarette this entire RP. My god.
Cynric seems to take Ichabod's educational words and absorb them.
Cynric: Right you are, oh wise Warlock! Now then, where was I?
Chaos: Fuck only knows... alright! I've got... two beers left. I'm drinking one, and Ichy here is drinking one. You have until we finish to get something out and convince us.
The two of them crack open the beers in unison.
Cynric begins to pace on the stage.
Cynric: I suppose I could tell you the tale of how I was set upon by cannibalistic gummy bears, one of which was green and wore tighty whiteys... had a bite taken out of his ear... they were all singing this horrendous song, and perhaps if it were more sped up it might have been only annoying, but as it was, the chills, gentlemen, the chills..
Cynric begins to sing the tune creepily.
Cynric: Oh... I'm a... gummy bear... yes I'm a... gummy bear...
Ichabod: Okay, that's some disturbing shit.
Chaos: Hey, when this guy says your shit is disturbing, your Baal levels. Ease up, Cynric!
Cynric spits to the side at the mere mention of Baal's name. He probably did it again just because I typed it in narrative.
Ichabod: Half done by the way!
Cynric: Charlatans! Alright! I shall show you Monday on Chill exactly why I should be a part of the DLC, and why Cynric the Crusader will always be more interesting, more heroic, more sought after even after two years away than a screechy, spoiled vampire female whoopsie!
Chauncey suddenly hits a button, the sounds of Sarah Gracklan's screams and screeches echoing through the theater. The three men in the audience cringe, Ichabod and Chaos both spilling their beer at the sudden, ear-piercing sound.
Chaos: Fucking turn it off!!
Chauncey quickly hits the off button, the screams dying. Cynric stands unaffected on the stage, removing the wads of cotton from his ears that no one had seem him use. The three men scowl up at him as Cynric tucks the cotton balls in his belt.
Cynric: I shall employ these in our match, Monday.
Ichabod: Cynric, Sarah is no joke. You better show up ready or she's going to make another example out of you.
Cynric flashes Ichabod a most winning smile.
Cynric: And yet, in my short and supposedly ineffective duration in UGWC, I've come closer to touching the Holy Grail than she ever has.
He winks, Ichabod laughing.
Ichabod: Yeah, alright. Just... be there.
The three start to walk out, Cynric suddenly looking to Chauncey.
Cynric: Wait! Did I get it?
Chaos: Get what?
Cynric: The DLC?! I have one more thing to add!
Chaos and Ichabod turn back around tiredly.
Ichabod: What's that?
Cynric: I come with references.
Snoop Dogg suddenly appears on stage.
The curtain drops.
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