Victor Isaak von Lohengrin

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Victor Isaak von Lohengrin

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ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAR FACES, WORN OUT PLACES, WORN OUT FACES

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BRIGHT AND EARLY FOR THEIR DAILY RACES, GOING NOWHERE, GOING NOWHERE!
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WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME?
Victor Isaak von Lohengrin
DO YOU HAVE ANY NICKNAMES?
Hell no. Call me Vicky and I’ll kill you. Slowly.
WHERE IS BIRTH PLACE?
Berlin, Germany
THAT MAKES YOUR NATIONALITY...
German
WHEN IS YOUR BIRTH DATE
30th of October
HOW OLD DOES THAT MAKE YOU?
Seventeen Years
WHAT IS YOUR RELIGION?
Atheist
WHAT IS YOUR SEXUALITY?
Bisexual
WHAT CRIME SENT YOU HERE?
Battery aka Rape
HOW LONG IS YOUR SENTENCE?
Four Years
WHO DO YOU BEST RESEMBLE?
Gaspard Ulliel

IT'S A VERY, VERY, MAD WORLD!
THEIR TEARS ARE FILLING UP THEIR GLASSES, NO EXPRESSION, NO EXPRESSION.
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WHAT DO YOU ENJOY?
[li] rough sex
[/li][li] card games
[/li][li] killing
[/li][li] violence
[/li][li] drinking alcohol (especially wine)
[/li][li] smoking cigarettes
[/li][li] taunting people
[/li][li] more rough sex
[/li][li] blood (the sight, the smell, the taste…)
[/li][li] stealing
[/li][li] steak && potatoes
[/li][li] reading (nonfiction or fiction, mostly war books)
[/li][li] brooding
[/li][li] fighting, fist or knife you name it
[/li][li] && more rough sex
[/li][li] loud screaming music
[/li][li] forcing people into sex
[/li][li] the sound of terrified or pained screams
[/li][li] prostitutes (this place is practically the jackpot)
[/li][li] sluts (because they’re free)
[/li][li] destruction
[/li][li] taking things from other people
[/li][li] aggression
[/li][li] money && gambling
[/li][li] knives && sharp objects
[/li][li] guns
[/li][li] instilling fear && inflicting pain
[/li][li] weapons in general
[/li][li] roses && the smell of roses
WHAT DO YOU NOT ENJOY?
[/li][li] goody-goodies
[/li][li] not being able to have sex
[/li][li] nosy people
[/li][li] his brother
[/li][li] easy catches (sexual or otherwise)
[/li][li] a lack of difficulty, in anything
[/li][li] not being in control
[/li][li] sharing
[/li][li] cucumbers
[/li][li] being disrespected
[/li][li] thinking about his past
[/li][li] people who get in his way
[/li][li] being interrupted
[/li][li] not getting his way
[/li][li] complete silence
[/li][li] stupid people
[/li][li] losing, at anything
[/li][li] walking away from a fight
[/li][li] not being able to have sex, yes really
[/li][li] love
[/li][li] being ignored
[/li][li] weaklings, he despises them
[/li][li] being wrong
[/li][li] fruity drinks
[/li][li] boring people
[/li][li] “vanilla” sex
[/li][li] feeling helpless
[/li][li] shrinks
[/li][li] school, he learns better on his own time
[/li][li] his father
WHAT DO YOU FEAR MOST?
[/li][li] betrayal
[/li][li] loneliness
[/li][li] being raped again
[/li][li] being helpless or weak
WHAT ARE YOUR GOALS IN LIFE?
[/li][li] get revenge on his brother
[/li][li] have lots of sex
[/li][li] to acquire lots of money
[/li][li] to find someone with whom he can find trust && security (Not necessarily love)
WHAT ARE YOUR FLAWS?
[/li][li] obstinate && obsessive
[/li][li] proud && arrogant
[/li][li] selfish && self-centered
[/li][li] violent && aggressive
WHAT ARE YOUR TURN ONS?
[/li][li] strength
[/li][li] bondage
[/li][li] blood && violence
[/li][li] feistiness
[/li][li] power && authority
[/li][li] blondes
[/li][li] confidence && high self-esteem
[/li][li] death
[/li][li] rough sex
[/li][li] the ability to shoot a gun
[/li][li] interest in war && history
[/li][li] name-calling
[/li][li] dirty talk
[/li][li] degradation
[/li][li] pain
WHAT ARE YOUR TURN OFFS?
[/li][li] moralistic
[/li][li] weakness
[/li][li] whining
[/li][li] complete submissiveness (that’s no fun)
[/li][li] skinniness (women need curves, and guys need some muscle)
[/li][li] disloyalty
[/li][li] bossiness
[/li][li] self-righteousness
[/li][li] preachiness
WHAT IS YOUR BEST MEMORY?
When he and Emory made love for the first time, but he won’t admit that this is his best memory to anyone and not because Emory is his brother, but because it hurts to admit that his best memory was shared with the traitor he now loathes. Emory once inspired a gentleness in Victor and if it had continued it probably would have diluted the violence in Victor’s heart. But now with Victor angry at who once was his angel, his darker desires have taken over and continue to wreak havoc. The relationship Victor desires is not one of peace.
WHAT IS YOUR WORST MEMORY?
The first time his father raped him. All he remembers is fear, so much fear, and feeling so small. Yet it is this same abuse that has shaped Victor’s distinctive sexual preferences. Though it was a tragic memory for him, a part of him longs to be back in a relationship with that similar roughness and power inequality. It’s just that this desire is a subconscious one and rarely manifest itself as it hard for Victor to find someone who is even more domineering than himself.
TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF!
[/li][li] clever && manipulative - Victor is more than a master manipulator. He has no qualms with lying to someone’s face and doesn’t flinch when he does it. His focus in life is strictly on his goals and ambitions, which allows him to have little sympathy for anyone else. Sometimes he’ll play around with people’s feelings just for the fun of it. Victor has the natural ability to see deep into people’s feelings and motivations, which helps in bluffs, inside and outside of his gambling habit. The irony of this is that he himself has an inability to fully understand himself, and often can’t recognize his own traits and effectively compare them to others around him. For example, his hypocrisy in the situation where he raped his brother, as his father had raped him, or his hypocrisy for claiming he didn’t want a sexual relationship with his father under the statement that it was “sick”, but then very quickly started a sexual relationship with his brother.
[/li][li] intelligent && book savvy - Very astute, Victor has always been good at academics. Having an interest in classic literature and war history, he knows a myriad of random facts about the past. History in fact is his favorite subject. He is also very skilled with math, and often uses this to his advantage when gambling against others in blackjack games. His overall general knowledge always manages to get him out of tight situations. And it is this same intelligence that allows him to be so devious and allows him to kill people with ease. For example he once killed a woman with an ice pick. That way, there was no murder weapon and no one could trace it to him.
[/li][li] sadistic && cruel - One could say that Victor’s violent nature emerged as a result of anger towards his life; Anger at the loneliness he felt after his mother’s death, anger towards his father, and his rage about the feelings of betrayal he endured because of Emory’s rejection. But in fact, it’s more than this. All dark sides are dark, but Victor’s dark side is a soul sucking mega dark that traps and ensnares everything in his path. Those that know him as more than just a psychological case can see that it is quite possible that even if those things hadn’t happened to him that it’s very likely that he would have grown up to the sadomasochist he is today anyway.
[/li][li] deceptive && sauve - Despite Victor’s abrasive nature, he knows how to behave. Or at least how to look like he does. Victor is a boy who can be sickeningly charming. Though he doesn’t care much for people, he realizes the benefits of being liked. He knows how to entertain a crowd and those that have only seen this side of Victor refer to him as “hardworking, refined, possessing a serious nature tempered with a clever sense of humor”. It’s this act that allows him to lure in his victims so easily. They never even know what hit them. But if he doesn’t view a person worthy of a show, then they get the worst of him.
[/li][li]appearance - Victor carries himself straight up, but not stiff; in fact he’s fairly relaxed which gives him a cool air. Victor is tall and well built, but not bulky. His hair is a dark brown bordering on black, and his eyes themselves are so dark that his entire eye appears to be black. His skin is a creamy milky white and is incredibly smooth. His dark hair, dark eyes, and creamy skin are all traits he shares with his mother (his brother and father are paler with blonde hair and blues eyes). Victor’s mother was always described as having “doll-like” eyes. However, on Victor these eyes look much more terrifying and startling than they did on his mother. Even when he’s charming others, Victor can’t completely disguise his cold nature. It reveals itself through the glint in his eyes that one will only notice if they’re paying very close attention.[/size]

IT'S A VERY, VERY, MAD WORLD!
THE DREAMS IN WHICH IM DYING ARE THE BEST I HAVE EVER HAD.
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WHO IS YOUR MOTHER? HOW OLD IS SHE? WHAT DOES SHE DO?
Esther von Lohengrin. Died of cancer at age 35. Was a painter formerly famous for her rose paintings.
WHO IS YOUR FATHER? HOW OLD IS HE? WHAT DOES HE DO?
Isaak von Lohengrin. Age 45. General in the German Army.
DO YOU HAVE ANY BROTHERS?
Emery von Lohengrin. Age 15.
DO YOU HAVE ANY SISTERS?
No.
ANY OTHER RELATIVES I SHOULD KNOW ABOUT?
No.
TELL ME ABOUT YOUR PAST!
Victor was born in Berlin, Germany to a father in the German Army and a mother whose only passion in life was to create beautiful things. Though Victor himself has difficulty recalling his earliest memories, he was very much cherished by his mother. He can briefly recall the former glory of her art studio, of which the air always tasted like spring roses. Yet, the one thing he remembers most poignantly about her is how sick his mother was. She was always “Not feeling well,“ according to his father. Often both of the von Lohengrin boys were not allowed to see her, and were only allowed short visits when she resided in her bedroom. Victor recalls her constantly locked-up in her room, or sometimes entirely absent from the house, frequently going “away” for days at a time. Still the door would eventually open and his mother would always return to their lives. And if she had been gone, then she would always come back. However, one day when Victor was seven years old, she vanished. Victor , though he couldn’t understand why she would leave all of a sudden, later understood (in his older years) that his mother had passed away due to lung cancer. Their father locked up the art studio inside their house after she passed, not allowing either of the von Lohengrin boys to enter it. Victor’s father was the only one allowed to pay a visit.

Victor’s mother’s passing left a deep scar on the von Lohengrin family. Months later, Victor’s father quickly slipped into alcoholism and loneliness, not being able to cope with the reality that his wife had passed. Victor fell into confusion, barely old enough to comprehend the concept of death. As for what was on his brother, Emery’s mind, no one knew for sure, for he was always soft-spoken, rarely speaking a word to anyone other than Victor. Yet, they shared a uniform desire. What they all wanted was a cure, a way to fill the void that they had been forced to endure. That’s when Victor’s father started touching him. Later, Victor himself would find his own way to deal with his loneliness, but that was still in the far years ahead.

His violation had started one night when Victor had been laying in bed. He wasn’t one for tears. Never had been. But he was shivering violently because of the shadow on the wall. To him it was a “monster”. There were often monsters in his room. But his father had always been so quick to vanquish them. And so Victor called for him, and naturally he came. Although, this time was different than before. His father stroked his hair, and asked him what was wrong, as usual. Victor told him. Pulling the young boy close, Victor’s father wrapped his arms around him and said. “I’ll protect you from the monsters Victor, if you stay close to me. If you stay by my side and never leave me.”

Wide-eyed, Victor could only nod with the naivety of a young boy.

“Do you promise to love me and only me always?” Inquired the man further, pulling Victor even closer to his chest. Victor could smell the scent of something pungent wafting from his father’s lips.

Victor snuggled his head into his father‘s chest. “Yes Vatti,I promise you.”

“I don’t want half-heartedness Victor. Do you promise me?”

“Of course…” The boy reassured his elder.

With that, Victor’s father reached down to Victor’s face, and Mr. von Lohengrin pulled his son’s mouth upwards into his lips. The kiss wasn’t a mere kiss between father and son; it lingered too long for that. And soon a forceful tongue was pressed into Victor’s mouth. Moment’s later, his body was pushed unto the soft pale sheets that glowed faintly in the night. Victor didn’t know that he was supposed to fight back.

His father broke the kiss, running fingers through Victor‘s silky bangs. “This is what you do when you love someone.” Lips met his again.

Despite his compliance, Victor trembled.

This memory would be forever etched into Victor’s mind and forever a part of Victor’s heart.

Victor’s father slowly started spending more and more time with him, almost to the point of neglecting his son , Emory. But Emory didn’t appear to mind. He often just sat silently in his room and read his poetry books.

The older von Lohengrin’s meetings with his father were peculiar to him. With great normalcy, his father would touch Victor down below which always gave him this tingly sensation. Sometimes he’d have Victor take his clothes off and they’d sleep naked together in Victor’s bed. Victor couldn’t quite register for a while why his father took pleasure in rubbing him as they slept and even inquired his father on his actions. “Why are we sleeping without clothes on?“ Victor would ask.

“Because that’s what you do when you love someone.” He’d respond to nearly every one of the child’s questions.

“How come Emory doesn’t sleep naked with us? Don’t you love him too?”

Victor’s father would just give a soft laugh nuzzling Victor’s nose. “Not as much as I love you.” The man continued, running his large thumb along Victor’s pink lips ,“My, you look just like your mutter.”

And that would be the end of it. The end of the conversation anyways, but Victor’s thoughts were still muddled. His entry into puberty would change that all that.

All normal thirteen year old boys had and idea about what was considered sexually immoral and what wasn’t. School had taught him very quickly that Victor’s relationship with his father wasn’t normal. But he also knew that he couldn’t tell anyone. So instead he pulled away from everyone, spending lots of time in self-imposed isolation. He also distanced himself from his father. When his father crawled into his bed at night, Victor would say he was tired. When his father asked him if he wanted to go to the park, Victor would use studying as an excuse. Victor didn’t think his father suspected what Victor was up too, but Victor would soon discover that his notion was very much inaccurate.

One day, as Victor was arriving home from school, he noticed that his brother wasn’t there. “Where’s Emory?” He asked, as his father moved into the main room.

“He’s at a friend’s.” His father whispered, holding a bottle loosely in his left hand. “It’s just me and you, son,” He grinned. His smile exceeded past his ears.

“I don’t have time for that.” Victor snapped quickly. “I’m going to my friend’s too.”

The man seemed surprised by the coolness in the young boy’s voice and gave a small sigh. Sitting on the arm of the sofa and crossing he legs he spoke, “Victor…are you avoiding me?”

“No.” Victor lied. He didn’t blink.

“You just told me a lie. Why would you lie to me Victor?” The eyes of the older man looked forward towards the floor. Victor could feel the man’s sadness seeping into the floor, traveling up his own legs and enveloping him. It was suffocating. Victor couldn’t take it.

“Because you’re a sick fuck and I want nothing to do with you! It‘s not normal what you‘re doing and I want it to stop!”

That awoke something in Victor’s father. His eyes snapped up. His face darken. His jaw stiffened. And he approached, slowly. Victor backed up towards the door. What had he done now? Before Victor could answer that question, he was snatched up and throw to the couch.

“What are you doing?” Victor yelled. The man ignored him, ripping off Victor’s button down shirt, pulling his tie off from his small neck. Soon Victor was naked.

And from the Lohengrin house, all that could be heard were harsh grunts combined with high-pitched squeals, but Victor never cried. Victor didn’t cry.

Victor’s dad made a habit of sleeping with him three sometimes up to five times a week. Besides the fact that Victor was now having sex, everything had changed. His father’s touches were no longer gentle, and often his father would be rather rough with Victor, sometimes leaving bruises and marks on his skin. Sometimes Victor would have to stay home from school as was bleeding too profusely. Victor's father never said, “I love you” anymore. In fact, he avoided talking to him unless absolutely necessary in order to say “Take you clothes off.” or “Touch me here.” But eventually, Victor’s father even made up hand gestures for that. He did however use his words to call Victor all sort of names, usually “slut” or “whore” and he really seemed to like rambling off insults about Victor being “dirty”.

At this stage in his life, Victor didn’t like this. Not at all. The situation provide him with only great despair and loneliness. The only comfort he seemed to find was with his brother, Emory. Emory had long known about the relationship between his father and his brother, but never dared to bring it up to their father. Still, he was there for his brother and would stay home from school to look after him on the days Victor couldn’t (under the argument that Victor couldn‘t make his own food by himself being as hurt as he was; Emory figured that his father would at least want to keep his fuck buddy alive). Emory would also listen to every word Victor had to say, offering encouragement and kind words. It was these words that filled his loneliness. Victor had found his cure.

Nevertheless, Victor eventually seemed to become very addicted to his medicine. He wanted Emory with him all the time. Whenever Emory tried to talk to anyone else for longer than a couple of minutes, Victor would snatch him away. Eventually, their relationship turned romantic. In the fourteenth year of his life, Victor kissed his younger brother for the first time.

Emory had been uneasy about their first kiss. It showed, due to the common shakiness in Emory’s voice whenever they touched, but they continued doing it, sometimes going so far as to grope and touch each other, their tongues intermingling, each pulling sensuously on the other. Victor figured that Emory was just naturally a nervous person, as his brother had always been shy. Victor found that quality in Emory endearing. His calm nature was beautiful and Victor found serenity in their moments together.

A couple of years passed and the brothers progressed physically. At age sixteen Victor made love to his brother for the first time. When Victor had first approached Emory for sex, Emory had been wavering the whole time, but his cries of “Victor, Victor!” contradicted that. The boy was so pure, unlike him. Victor nearly teared as they rocked together in his bed, embracing, protecting each other from the world. This was love. This was what sex was supposed to be like. Through Emory he would defy his father’s viciousness. His love was his defiance. Their love was their defiance.

As they lay in the cool air of Victor’s bed, Emory asked his brother a faint question, “Bruder, why do you touch me like this? Why did we just…” Emory blushed deeply.

Victor waited a moment before responding ,“Because that’s what you do when you love someone.”

They continued their escapades, but only when their father wasn’t around, or when they were sure he wasn’t going to try and sleep with Victor that night. They carried on in dark places, light places, cold places, hot places. It didn’t matter where, as long as they were together. Despite this, Victor couldn’t shake this feeling he had. This…impulse. Victor wanted violence. He had Emory’s love, but there was something dark lurking in his head and something sinister twirling in his brain, and even Emory’s love couldn’t snuff out this black light.

It happened when Victor’s father sent him around the corner to buy some liquor (as at age sixteen in Germany, you’re allowed to buy wine and beer). He exited the store and walked a few blocks the left to go home, but was surprised at what he saw. A man was on the ground, and three men where kicking him senseless. Victor didn’t act. He just watched silently, taking in the scene before him. Eventually the thugs ran off, and that’s when Victor could see the sight before him. The man was bleed profusely, red spilling over the light sidewalk in copious amounts. Something about the sea of vermillion in front of him arose something in Victor. He could feel a pounding in his chest, and even a tingling in his lower areas…

His pupils dilated.

He approached the man, placing the brown bag down beside him as he kneeled on the ground. The man was barely breathing, face beat in and body purple. Victor leaned over him inhaling the metallic scent of blood, it was…appealing? He raised his hand, and vibrating it ran lightly over the man’s face, his tan fingers now scarlet. He brought them up to his lips, and tasted the blood, tongue wiping up every last bit So warm…

Victor suddenly had the need to relieve himself.

No. Not that way. In another way.

He hurried home as fast as he could, and was pleased to find that his father was already asleep. With great speed he bolted into Emory’s room. “What’s gotten into you?” Emory teased. Victor just pushed him harshly upon the bed. That night was their most intense love-making session ever.

Victor wasn’t quite sure what that was. It was confusing and liberating, and arousing. Just thinking about it made him ache all over with lust…

He needed that. That’s how Victor began to kill. He would lure people into dark alleyways and before they knew what was happening they were on the ground, dying. Victor would just watch, and he couldn’t help but to smile. It brought him so much bliss, the fear upon their fading faces, the deep crimson, the rush of adrenaline. And as soon as it was all over, Victor would relieve himself on the spot or run off to get Emory to do it for him.

Victor kept this secret from Emory. Even today no one knows about his killings. In all Victor killed about 4 people his sixteenth year and by the time he turned seventeen one more would die. Himself.

There was a gap between him and Emory. It hadn’t just surfaced. It’d been there for years. Victor always tried to force himself to pretend like it didn’t exist, but he knew deep down inside that something wasn’t right between the two of them. Hopefully, Victor could try and fix it soon. His seventeenth birthday was coming up and he intended to spend it with Emory.

On the night of his birthday, Emory snuck into Victor’s room. “Happy Birthday Bruder.” Emory whispered as he joined his brother on the bed. The younger boy kissed his brother on the cheek.

Victor smirked. “What kind of kiss is that Emory?” Victor seized the young boy in his arms. “You should kiss me like this…” He embraced his brother in a deep kiss. Emory cheeks flushed and he pulled away slightly, almost involuntarily.

It took Emory a moment to realized what he had done. “I…I…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean too...I.”

“Emory.” Victor’s eyes were serious, but they weren’t harsh. “Maybe it’s just me…but I feel like there’s something you need to tell me.” He placed a hand on his brother’s leg, who flinched. Victor removed it.

“Brudur, you see….there’s this girl at school…” His voice trailed off before picking up at some random point in his dialogue. “….just think that we shouldn’t be doing this. We’re brothers…sorry…yeah..” Emory’s voice was only a mumble.

Victor’s eyes darkened. Something in him smashed. “Emory…we’re brothers…we love each other…” He tried to coax the other boy.

“I…can’t do this anymore..” Emory stuttered on quietly ,“…it’s sick...and you know it’s sick…I figured you would understand since Vatti is always…fucking -”

Victor’s hand came hard across Emory’s face.

The white sheets were now red.

“Bruder…” Emory whimpered as he covered his nose.

“Shut up…” Victor muttered. “You stupid hure!”

How could he do this. How could Emory just leave him? Their love was more than broken. Their love had more than faded. All that was left in Victor was bitterness…and a deep black desire…

“It’s my birthday damn it. It’s mine! You owe me. I’ll take you as my present.”

“What? Bruder, please. No more!” Emory squealed, but it did no good, as Victor pinned him down on the bed and started to rip off his boxers. They were thrown to the floor. Emory struggled and squirmed as Victor began to do all matter of sexual things to his body. Emory’s blood and tears streamed down his face and he cried out loudly, which only made Victor want it even more. Both boys, Victor entranced by his longings, and Emory appalled by his position, had both forgotten that a monster slept not to far away…

“Help me!” Emory cried pain filling his lungs and his limbs.

That’s when a door busted open, and both boys paused. The monster had risen.

The monster looked wild. Bulging muscles, face red. Both boys weren’t quite sure what was going to happen in them. Then the monster boomed. “You. Whore.”

That’s when Victor snapped, throwing Emory aside on the bed. “I’ve had just about enough of that out of you.” He whispered darkly, standing.

“You took him from me!” The monster roared. “Emory!”

“He was never yours.” Victor sneered, “Emory has always been mine.”

Once more, the monster ignored Victor’s words. “Emory! You hure. You stole him from me!”

That’s when it clicked in Victor’s mind. A father’s jealousy could have serious consequences.

Consequences that involved being sent here. Victor wasn't stoked about going to Ridgestone, however he didn't come kicking and screaming like so many other kids did. He's away from his traitor brother. For Victor, the only downside to here is that it's so much harder to kill someone and get away with it. But he still finds his ways to get his kinks...

Victor doesn’t know what’s become of Emory, and he honestly doesn’t care. He does have an idea however. He figures that their father has begun to sexually abuse Emory as punishment for “taking Victor away from him” and as a way of replacing Victor. Victor figures the brat deserves it anyway. The situation with Emory completely changed Victor. For the longest time he had Emory’s light to help temper his slowly developing darkness, but without Emory the two sides of himself have become just one individual. The result of loneliness, hatred, and abuse, Victor has become an individual possessing a penchant for violence and degradation with a large chip on his shoulder.

IT'S A VERY, VERY, MAD WORLD!
HIDE MY HEAD I WANT TO DROWN MY SORROWS, NO TOMMOROW, NO TOMORROW
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THE ROLEPLAYER!

NAME/ALIAS
Vicky
AGE
17
GENDER
Female
EXPERIENCE
6 maybe 7
CONTACT INFO
Just PM me
TIME ZONE
-5 Eastern Standard time
RULE PHRASE
Admin Edit[/size]

IT'S A VERY, VERY, MAD WORLD!
CHILDREN WAITING FOR THE DAY THEY FEEL GOOD, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY
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okay, here is how it goes. this application letter is made by eunicegoesRAWR! @
caustion.2! lyrics are by gary jules and tears for fear. please so do not steal or claim it as yours.
i have a short temper and if i see it and see no credit or anything like that, i will have to hurt you, biatch!
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