Post by Deleted on May 5, 2017 23:41:22 GMT -5
{Continues from Jared Holmes' Roleplay, “The Man Who Sold the World Part One”}
Dagvald Riddik watches as The Man Who Sold the World exits through his shabby hunting shack’s door. As soon as he shuts the door behind him, he feels a weight lift off his stomach. The little brat had done something he sincerely doesn’t appreciate: he made him feel uncomfortable. Of all the things Dag has seen, done, endured, and otherwise, almost nothing makes him uneasy or unsure of himself or his control of the situation. Despite this, the bizarre things Jared Holmes was going on about, and the way Dag felt he was possibly seeing illusions, made him angry. He takes himself very seriously, and for someone to step into his world, and make him unsure of himself, is something he won’t tolerate lightly.
Of course, there was more to it than that. The things the scoundrel said, about aliens, a moronic prophecy, and an ascension to that of a god, were simply idiotic. Dag knows Jared is a bit unhinged and no stranger to falling for nonsense which doesn’t make sense, but his ramblings about godhood certainly took the cake over his description of his ideal society.
“Who once I considered a meticulous schemer, now reveals himself only as a pawn in his own head,” Dag reflects to himself. “He is following a prophecy he invented on one of his acid trips, strewn about the floor of some shoddy apartment with Thursday riding his dick while Wade watched not out of erotic interest, but out of friendly respect for his good brother’s sexual prowess. No, scratch that. If there’s one thing I know is true about him, it’s that it wouldn’t have been Thursday.” Dag returns to the table, sits down, and pulls a drink of cider from his glass.
“Either way, that is no individual who would be hand chosen by an alien race to assume the role of a god. No, he is, as he described himself with regard to the very nature of mankind, about as mortal as one can get. That’s reflected crystal clear in his pathetic desire to believe he actually is destined to achieve something great. All those who are subpar and unaccomplished in life, those who revel in the degenerate life, are those who must long to escape their nihilism.” He takes another sip. “Of all people, I ought to be the one to most heavily drink the devil’s whiskey. I may well yet.” He allows the mug to fall of it’s own weight to the table, sliding out of his hand, but only a short distance of a couple inches. He checks his iPad, finding it’s three hours til his flight. Nothing on the schedule but sorry self reflection. He slinks down in the chair as his eyes begin to flicker. His thoughts overwhelm him.
D E T H W A R
He should be there.
He should be fighting on the front lines.
They are his people.
Isabella’s family is third generation Danish.
He can prove his allegiance to Pantheon on the side.
Be the one who saves Denmark.
It’s all he’s ever wanted.
He’s lost his Internet Championship due to the second fuck-over he’s received in WCF in just a couple weeks. What’s the point? Prove his worth to Pantheon? And what will that get him? As if he could really ever earn the respect of one such as Andre Holmes, assuming he gives a fuck if he ever does. That’s meaninglessness of the highest magnitude. A clueless idiot more obsessed with Thursday’s asshole than contributing to the team overall, yet Rabid takes quicker with him than he does Dag. Why bother trying to impress someone if they obviously don’t care about actions, and prefer blind loyalty? Dag isn’t the type to sacrifice his dignity to get into the Employee of the Month booklet.
Forget saving Corey Black. Corey’s never done shit but scoff at Dag, if he was even lucky enough to evoke that much of a reaction from him. “If I go there… if I’m the one to find him… I’ll end him outright. I don’t care if I kill Corey, I’m taking Creeping Death down without any special procedures. I’ll do this for Denmark. I’ll do this for Isabella. I’ll do this for myself. No one else.” He pries his eyes open, and goes to the flight planning tab. Cancel his flight home? Book one to Hanover right now?
No. He needs to see Isabella first. He can’t risk never seeing her again. Just one last time, if it comes to that. He can’t ignore the lust he has for his passionate, caring, sweet lover. She would kill him if he left without saying goodbye. “I won’t hurt her like that.”
The plane ride was infuriatingly long and frustrating. Throughout both connecting flights, he thought only of whether he was making the right decision. He dared question his willingness to put his life on the line to die for the people who forged his legacy and fostered the glorious bloodline of his and his love’s. He could return to a life of luxury and privilege, he could simply be just another WCF wrestler, raking in money by the millions. He could rebuild his grand estate. He could give Isabella the world in her hands. She could be the Victorian Queen she always pretended to be as a child. They could live the fantasy she wanted when she invited him to embark on an endless cruise, carefree, connected to the simplicity of early adventurers and colonists looking to make their fortune in lands unexplored.
Everything was right there. He truly had the choice between one life and the other. Should he stand up for everything he had ever preached? He thought he’d put this debate to rest when he burned his estate to the ground, leaving only the ruins of the hunting shelter. His luxuries have been blown away as ashes in the wind by now. There could be no going back. He shall continue to live off the grid, without contributing to the evil, corrupt, Zionist, anti-white establishment. No money in any banks, no water, electricity, or heating bills, no cable bill. He will not be dependent on those who wage genocide on his people. He will liberate Denmark, and from its war torn ruins, he will establish the utopia Jared was too stupid to understand.
Mankind is not naturally inclined to desire the easy, simplistic, and devoid of morals. It is only the abuse of civilization which leads man to lust for its simplification. Were society not so oppressive, abusive, and manipulative, there would be no desire for a lazy, carefree, indulgent life. No one truly wants to live in a civilized world, it is not naturally possible. It goes against everything we are programmed to be as human beings, created by nature, from nature, of nature. We are meant to live in tribes, to hunt and gather. The reason people don’t understand the fallacy of civilization is the brainwashing it has done to them. Instead of longing for its abolishment, the masses instead are chasing after the carrot dangled by the corporations and the mass media advertisements designed to implant a false paradise into people’s heads. They want to solve the problems civilization causes them by achieving what they have been told is the perfect civilization, when they should instead desire the abolishment of civilization entirely.
Ethnic tribalism is the way of the future. Down with civilization. Down with nation states. Down with authoritarian regimes. Down with the desertification of Europe by the desert religions. Up with Paganism. Hoist up the idols. Raise the masts of the longships. Thrust skyward your swords and shields, brothers and sisters, as we march together, forward, to a future we are destined to achieve. Toss aside your electronics, your luxuries, and your entitlements. Every comfort you abandon is a link shattered on your chain! Unite, gather into tribes, and we shall liberate our rightful homeland! Those who are born from the same forebears, it is our obligation to march side by side into the uncertain future, reclaiming what is truly ours from the vile creatures who have taken it over!
To Be Continued
