#dash commentary: nightmare on nash street

[moonlightsdew]

@radicheart

While Al has had his microphone playing back some audio to him, he'd actually taken a little trip. The bar that his alternate spoke of seems to be a bit busy, but that sort of thing had never actually made a big difference to him. There had been an invitation to cause someone some trouble! And as much as he did enjoy a good show, he would rather be here than seeing a dance.

After all, he actually gets to be involved in this sort of activity.

Said activity was, for the moment, supplying this Travis fellow with a seemingly unending rounds of alcohol. Anonymously, of course. He wanted to keep an eye on his show until the fellow was drunk enough to start getting on everyone's nerves. Even if anyone did try to get in his way, Al wouldn't have cared. But for all he knew, his alternate would be displeased, and he didn't want to discourage their potential friendship.

When there is a lull in the activity of the audio he was listening to, he gets up and approaches Travis silently. He reaches over his shoulder to grab his latest shot, taking it and downing it himself. "Ah, I do enjoy the bite of whiskey. Wouldn't you agree?"

Any drunken confusion and mumbling is ignored, with Al wrapping an arm over the other's shoulder. "It does seem have gone over your limit, though."

Limit was right. Travis did look like he was ready to puke, though it could have as easily been from being terrified as it was from being drunk. Al shuffles him out of his seat, ignoring his discomfort at the drunkard having to lean against him. "Why don't I take you out back, so you don't mess up the tender's nice bar." He looks at the confused bartender, giving a wink and a particularly malicious smile.

It is amazing how little it takes to get people to let you do whatever the hell you want.

The moment they have gone out a side door into the alley, Al shoves the drunkard away from himself, enjoying the sound of the man slamming into the dumpster and collapsing. Not so much the sound of him spilling the contents of his stomach, though.

"I can see why he doesn't like you." Al mutters, brushing his coat off. He'd still need to get it deep cleaned. "Disgusting."

A black tendril is summoned, wrapping around the others waist and lifting him into the air. It squeezes him tight enough to cut off his air flow, as well as crush a couple of bones. The wheezing between cries of pain was very delightful, and all he had to do was stand there and watch the fool struggle. He does just that, smile growing as he sees the life draining out of the others body.

He wouldn't mind some food right now.

But, this wasn't his prey, and he was only here to pass some time. The tendril loosens enough that Travis can breathe, though it is clearly pained. Al approaches to look him over, and poke at his ribs. They definitely were cracked and broken in places, but they hadn't punctured the lungs. Probably.

"Sorry to run off so soon, but I've places to be." Another tendril is summoned to open the dumpster lid, and Travis is tossed unceremoniously into the can. The pained wheeze and groan is enough to assure Al that the other is alive, and will remain so. For now though, the trash could stay where it belonged.

The lid is closed, and Al focuses his attention back to his mic's audio as he teleports away.

[radicheart-a]

“Are you bored? Looking for something to do? Feeling mischievous or even violent? I sure am!”

“Why not give ✨ Harassing Travis ✨ a try? Not only will you get to flex your creativity and let out some pent-up frustrations, but it’ll earn you friendship points with me!“

“Did I forget to mention it’s absolutely free?”

“For those that are new or have forgotten, he resides at 3816 Nash Street and likes to frequent a bar in Pride called The Cackling Crow. Do with this information as you see fit!”

“I’ll be watching!”

[smiledotdeer]

I have something a bit different in mind for Travis today. Stay tuned!

[smiledotdeer]

With a little help from a friend and a stranger, Alastor can put his plan into action.

First, he goes to the Cackling Crow bar with his alternate, who was kind enough to provide the charcoal he needs to draw the spell’s runes. There, he meets up with the demon that had promised him a glass bottle. The exchange is made, with Alastor giving his sincere and cheerful thanks, before he finally makes his way over to one of the windows and peers inside.

It’s as he suspected: Travis IS drinking the night away at the counter—and, just like everyone else, he’s unaware of the Radio Demon’s presence.

He’s also unaware of just how much pain he’s about to go through.

Now for the second part of his little ritual: drawing the necessary symbols on the bar’s outer wall. This is where the charcoal comes in handy, and after accepting it from his alternate with a grateful nod he gets to work, sketching out ominous-looking letters and shapes on the stained grayish bricks.

It only takes him a couple minutes to get everything etched onto the wall. That’s when part three comes into play: drawing blood. This is what the bottle is for, and Alastor is able to provide this reagent himself after using his thumb nail to quickly slice open his pointer’s fingertip. Of course, it takes several minutes to fill the bottle, but he’s patient, and he knows for a fact that Travis won’t be going anywhere for several hours.

Once the last few drops drip into the vial, Alastor pulls his finger away and presses against it with the pad of his thumb, stemming the bleeding while the other hand holds onto the bottle, careful not to spill its contents. After the bleeding on his finger comes to a stop, he moves on to the fourth and final part of the spell: the incantation.

It’s spoken in a language that only a few would understand, and even fewer still would recognize. As soon as he’s done just a few seconds later, however, the symbols he’d drawn begin to glow a foreboding red, and the blood in the vial slowly begins to bubble.

This is when Travis starts to create a scene.

Alastor watches as the demon at the counter tugs at his clothes, as if he were too hot to be wearing them. That quickly escalates into his clawed hands tugging at his fur, with some of it successfully being torn out in dark clumps that he tosses carelessly to the floor. There are a decent amount of customers in the bar along with him, and a fair amount of them are taking notice and either watching on in morbid curiosity, taking out their phones to record this random act of madness, or backing away to not get involved.

Unfortunately, no one could have guessed what they were about to witness.

The Radio Demon’s usual smile grows wider as he watches Travis start outright screaming and clawing at his very skin. Keen patrons might notice that, when his blood inevitably begins to spill and drip onto the floor, it sizzles and steams—just like the blood in the vial Alastor’s still holding, which has graduated from a gentle simmer to a roiling boil behind the fogging glass. Travis has no sense of direction anymore, flailing left and right as he grabs random cups and glasses off the counter and nearby tables to dump their contents on himself in a vain attempt to cool off.

The agony goes on for a couple solid minutes, and most of the patrons are still standing around watching. No one is making any attempt to help; if anything, some are berating him for making a mess of the bar—the tender included. Alastor grins even wider upon seeing this. Good. Don’t help him. He doesn’t deserve it.

Finally, the blood in the bottle simply evaporates...and so does Travis’, making him suddenly stop mid-run and collapse limply onto the floor in a steaming heap. Customers are snapping pictures. The bartender is loudly complaining about ‘having another body to dispose of’...and Alastor is laughing as he gets up from leaning near the window to teleport home with his alternate.

Sure, Travis will be back in a few hours...but that’s probably one of the more painful methods of killing him that the Radio Demon has inflicted on him so far.

[smiledotdeer]

I don't know Travis, but I'm splitting bets on each of his arms; legs are on their pretty fucking good.

Hold on, folks, we got one last pair of votes! Thank you very much!

[smiledotdeer]

Some people didn’t claim their prize money from the bet today! I’m going to put it into the unofficial Baby Supply Fund!

[smiledotdeer]

So do you ONLY torture Travis on Saturdays or is that a constant ongoing thing we aren't aware of?

"A minor correction: I don't usually torture him directly! Most weekends, I let others do it! I find it entertaining to watch, and my listeners get to let loose whatever pent-up frustrations they may have by way of violence! It's truly a win-win situation! This past Sunday was an exception, and I'm sure you all enjoyed listening to my alternate and I make Travis scream in multiple pitches!"

"But back on topic: Travis' torment isn't restricted solely to Saturdays! I tend to find little ways to make his day worse. If I'm smoking a cigarette and need to dispose of the still-smoldering butt? I'll toss it in a portal that opens up above his head so it lands in his hair. I'll also transfer whatever damage it did to my vocal chords over to him; if anyone's met Travis in person and heard him speak, you might notice how awful he sounds. The same goes for whenever I drink alcohol; the liver damage all goes to him. So you can blame at least some of that on me; he's done his own amount of damage doing both over the years, but he's definitely just a little bit worse off because of my contributions!"

"It doesn't stop there, though! Did I learn a new spell? Or perhaps acquire a new weapon? He's my test subject for both! Did I just eviscerate someone and need to get rid of the guts? Did the barista at one of the cafes I frequent accidentally get my order wrong and I need to dispose of the old one to get a new one made? Do I need to water my horse, but have no access to a proper trough? I think you get my point!"

"The short answer is no! I make it a point to bother him as much as I possibly can on any given day!"

[smiledotdeer]

“It’s Father’s Day? Hmm...”

“Sounds like a great day to harass Travis!”

“For those that are new or have forgotten, he resides at 3816 Nash Street and likes to frequent a bar called The Cackling Crow. Do with this information as you see fit!”

“I’ll be listening!”

[smiledotdeer]

“Are you bored? Looking for something to do? Feeling mischievous or even violent? I sure am!”

“Why not give ✨ Harassing Travis ✨ a try? Not only will you get to flex your  creativity and let out some pent-up frustrations, but it’ll earn you friendship points with me!“

"Did I forget to mention it’s absolutely free?”

“For those that are new or have forgotten, he resides at 3816 Nash Street and likes to frequent a bar in Pride called The Cackling Crow. Do with this information as you see fit!”

“I’ll be watching!”

[smiledotdeer]

"If you do it next time you should do it that people can pay money to pull on one pulley. The more you spent the longer you get to pull and if you manage to sever a limb you get to take it home! Like a game show! :D"

"Isn't that just delightfully evil! I'll keep it in mind!"

[smiledotdeer]

A tap to the drunken Travis's shoulder, and then a tap to the other. This seems mildly annoying at best as the man can't seem to get a sip of his drink without having to look over his shoulders. There's a short imp standing on tip toe tapping at alternating shoulders, before the knife comes into play and suddenly it's not innocent little pestering taps. Death of a thousand cuts, try death of a thousand stabs. The bar looks strangely entertained before the imp is skipping out, leaving the body behind.

And that’s ANOTHER instance of Travis’ body hitting the floor! Hahaha! Good show, my impish little friend!

[smiledotdeer]

(shika-the-satyr) Midnight learned their lesson last time, they cant drain Travis entirely or else they'll get one hell of a stomach ache... but they can still attack him~ Midnight proudly returned to Alastor's home, dropping something on his desk. They looked to be a pair of shriveled up eyes... Guess Midnight still had a snack in the end. There was even some blood on their fluff but they didnt seem to care. Just squeaked loud and proud while wiggling their abdomen. Wonder what else they did to the man...

The eyes are given a cursory glance. He isn't bothered in the slightest. Then, Alastor stands up from his armchair, pulls a thimble from his nearby sewing kit, fills it with water from the kitchen sink, and sets it down for Midnight to sip from while lightly scritching the top of their head.

"Another confirmed kill, hellizens! Many thanks to Midnight for this one!"

Good mothsteed.

[smiledotdeer]

I went to Travis's house but he wasn't at home. :( So I set it on fire. :)

"That's the spirit! Stomp on the ashes while you're at it!"

[smiledotdeer]

I set off fireowrks in traviss house:) happy gay month extended (they were rainbow)

"Wonderful news! Thank you for letting me know!"

[smiledotdeer]

“Are you bored? Looking for something to do? Feeling mischievous or even violent? I sure am!”

“Why not give ✨ Harassing Travis ✨ a try? Not only will you get to flex your creativity and let out some pent-up frustrations, but it’ll earn you friendship points with me!"

"Did I forget to mention it’s absolutely free?”

“For those that are new or have forgotten, he resides at 3816 Nash Street and likes to frequent a bar in Pride called The Cackling Crow. Do with this information as you see fit!”

“I'll be watching!”

[smiledotdeer]

“Someone just killed Travis with a carrot.”