Welcome, one and all, to the Vriska Quarantine thread!!
Before you click that delicious poll, please know that it is multiple choice! I am indeed an excellent host for warning you ahead of time.
This is the place set aside specifically to talk about Vriska, so that we can keep all that Spidertroll out of the other threads. We also talk about everything else and how it connects to Vriska. Up to and including ponies.
Oh yeah, and Mindfang, too.
Of course, we also have our fair share of debates! Remember, kids, just because somebody has a different opinion than you doesn't mean they're wrong, nor does it mean they're calling you wrong!! Some people like to argue for the sake of arguing.
Now that that PSA is out of the way, let's get on with the Spidertroll!!
And as always:
Last edited by Rikushadow5; 02-27-2012 at 04:38 PM.
Reason: An excellent host
Sigquotes:
Originally Posted by Githe
It's all fun and games until your periods sync up.
Originally Posted by colwag
Yeah, he's making a total boob of himself.
Wait.
Shit.
Although I totally imagine Dave having an existiencial crisis about Mayo in that chat. He just stops and stares blankly into space for a minute, while Karkat just stares wondering what broke Dave. As he searches for the answers, what is Mayo. Is he mayo? What if the mayo was everything BUT mayo? And he's all. "I don't know." And can never trust mayo again Although he'll put WV in a sandwhich, just to see if he is mayo.
Originally Posted by Andrew
More trivia you guys probably didn't know.
When I killed Nepeta that was me going FUCK FURRIES!
When Eridan got chopped in half? I was being like: Hipsters m i rite? SO LAME.
When Vriska died that was just so I could marry her though.
Originally Posted by bloodyEmissary
Is it one of those cakes that has various weapons hidden in each slice and then you FIGHT TO THE DEATH with them?
I love those cakes.
Originally Posted by mysteriousOutsider
Oh gosh the whole time I was bonding with amazing people over shared interests in a place devoted to said interests and forming real and lasting friendships which have significantly positively impacted my life I never considered that I might be inconveniencing the "asshole who doesn't give a shit and only shows their face around here to bitch about other people having fun" demographic.
I'm terribly sorry.
Originally Posted by Phantos
Remind me to never fight you in a boss battle, ash denej. You've got like, two dozen final forms.
I think Vriska is hot, where'd these fat jokes come from? I did think her sprite image was large than expected, but I blamed the baggy clothes and massively volumized hair
I think Vriska is hot, where'd these fat jokes come from? I did think her sprite image was large than expected, but I blamed the baggy clothes and massively volumized hair
The two aren't mutually exclusive you know. Regardless though, it was just some silly quip by Hussie.
Deliciously extravagant avatar by intangibleInsight
Oh my friend quirk, the undercurrent of vriska hate powers the wheels of the forum.
Ah, then hope is not lost.
When Vriska returns, the vast engine of our hate shall burn so bright and work so fiercely, that we shall lead all of the fora in the Great Journey to the Fountain of Cute, where the true story of Homestuck (Nepetaquest 2011-2012), shall finally come to a glorious end.
The two aren't mutually exclusive you know. Regardless though, it was just some silly quip by Hussie.
I agree, they aren't, but I mean in the general fat is bad opinion. And Hussie? He is the Master Troll, or I claim him to be. Love your Avatar. Exquisite
up on melancholy hill where there's a plastic tree
Posts
2,007
Re: Vriska Quarantine 7: Not Lucky Enough
Originally Posted by Quirk
Ah, then hope is not lost.
When Vriska returns, the vast engine of our hate shall burn so bright and work so fiercely, that we shall lead all of the fora in the Great Journey to the Fountain of Cute, where the true story of Homestuck (Nepetaquest 2011-2012), shall finally come to a glorious end.
uh
just going to delurk
but
what
the whatness of this has caused me to delurk
in order to question you
the question that is
what
uh
just going to delurk
but
what
the whatness of this has caused me to delurk
in order to question you
the question that is
what
It's pretty self explanatory, really. My hate/apathy for and towards Vriska and people who like her burns with the heat of a thousand Tsar Bombas. Simple enough.
up on melancholy hill where there's a plastic tree
Posts
2,007
Re: Vriska Quarantine 7: Not Lucky Enough
Originally Posted by Quirk
It's pretty self explanatory, really. My hate/apathy for and towards Vriska and people who like her burns with the heat of a thousand Tsar Bombas. Simple enough.
at the risk of sounding like a complete idiot who was beaten over the head several times with a rusty pipe and left for the dead and crows picking at my intestines
why exactly have you contained all this hatred for however long
shouldn't you like
beardsplode
or something
at this point
It's pretty self explanatory, really. My hate/apathy for and towards Vriska and people who like her burns with the heat of a thousand Tsar Bombas. Simple enough.
up on melancholy hill where there's a plastic tree
Posts
2,007
Re: Vriska Quarantine 7: Not Lucky Enough
Originally Posted by Quirk
My beard is not actually hair. It is crystallized hate.
i now know the awnser to everything.
i will now spend the reminder of my life preaching about some shennanigains and then realizing that would require too much effort and resume sitting in my chair
but what would happen if you found out that your crystalized hate beard
was really that portal-glass thing in 8balls
and that you are really vriska
What other people? I'm the only one keeping the Vriskahate fire lit.
Fear not brave sir! While you keep that vast bonfire of hatred to Vriska alive, I shall be the vigilante guardian of a much smaller campfire of total indifference to her!
She sleeps in tower ivory, she dreams in one of gold,
At once she is both young and dead and old.
She sees what is to happen, knows not what will unfold.
Fire took her dreams away, now emptiness rules sleep,
In bubbles ruled by creatures mad her sanity she keeps
And through the madness she becomes a wolf and not a sheep.
Now space is in her grasp, power great and vast
And on the golden inch she sails on ship of golden masts
To face a fiend of power cosmic, whose reign forever lasts.
How will this journey end, no one can be sure,
But however it will end, the universe she’ll cure.
John:
Zephyr his mount, sapphire his cape
The Heir arrives on wings of storm
Lightning his scepter, thunder his crown
The power of Breath the world does transform
Light on his feet, light in his heart
Greatness is his, his to perform
Potential endless, given by air
The power of Breath the world does transform
Joy rules him still, though darkness looms close
And sorrows and pain threaten to swarm
He rises above, the sky is his throne
The power of Breath the world does transform
Though kindness is his, cruelty cast aside
Threaten his kin, trouble their form
And prepare to reap a whirlwind of force
The power of Breath your hate will transform.
Rose:
At the tip of her wand seraphim dance
A ballet of strife with devils of chance.
Sable and Emerald duel for her mind;
If either prevails , her fate won’t be kind
At all times in control, except when she’s not.
Aberrations of dread foul feelers do send.
They whisper of treason, damnation and rot,
Of crimes she could never hope to amend.
She will not surrender, relinquish no sliver
Of her mind to the hunters that come from the void.
Fight them every step, she won’t falter or quiver;
She fights for herself, least she be destroyed.
With wizardry and light, the future she scouts,
The roll of the dice now her crystal ball,
And though what she sees may cause her some doubt
The Seer will never again be a thrall.
Furious Pariah, hard of shell
Herder of wolves, they bite at his ankles
Making his way through a hazy hell.
Hurried the midwife, doomed the born
Ruinous creator, tumorous doctor
He failed, for hatred now sworn.
In desolation lingers, never dares to hope
For he knows hope is a butcher
With his helplessness he cannot cope
Rage too betrayed him, bond asunder
Leaving a trail of corpses behind
The jester cares not if he goes under
Trapped in loathing, harried by temporal shades
Cursed by heretical plasma, hidden by shame
Jealousy grows, cultivated by sightless blades
Blindness sneers at him
Callousness will spare not a moment
His blood by loneliness made dim
Kanaya:
On sunny sands she walks, while others in darkness sleep.
Caring soul, ancestor to a generation that will never be born.
Care is met with cruelty, dealt by the spider’s sting,
Her love is repaid with indifference, pricks like the sharpest thorn.
Amphibian progeny she raises, watched by a warrior filled with pride
Haste her child will doom, the warrior demands it still, she obeys.
A universe is born only to die again.
Her love is repaid by stillbirth; her child will never see the light of day.
Fleeing from bladed death, her last hope has yet to hatch,
She shows compassion to a wounded soul, giving it a goal.
That hope is a devil in sheep’s skin, and burns all others.
Her love is repaid with treason, and in her heart a hole.
With vengeance she rises again, less and more than she was.
The devil is cleaved by a sword of teeth. It gives her no peace.
Now she searches for a space to call her own.
Her love is waiting for a balm that the pain will cease.
He is without equal, brain like a storm
Hateful and wretched, worthless worm
Wisdom and knowledge, power unknown
Ignorant fool, his fate does bemoan
Fierce is his mind, fierce his heart too
Cowardly maggot of red and blue
She was his best friend, she could have been more
He fired and fired, left nothing but gore
He saved her life, she kissed him and smiled
Shot through the chest, while he choked on bile
He did what he could, it wasn’t his fault
He failed like always, her death couldn’t halt
Blackness unfolds him, no more red and blue
Duality vanished, the dying shouts are gone
Peace at last, a final dark dawn.
Tranquility in emptiness
Rest in the void
Clarity in blindness
Unity in death.
Pointy shades, bulbous rump
Ironic coolness, rhymes I pump
Shatterproof sword, Causal cap
Layers of satire, I take no crap
Flashy moves, tasty grooves
Never lose, always the one to choose
Faster than sound, flashing around
Cutting fools down, fighting black clowns
Jet board, can’t be ignored, check out the sword
Slashing through imps like metaphysical gourds
Grist hoard, everything afford, won every single possible award
Shit so easy, I get bored.
Got Cal, best pal, me and him is an entire cabal
Bounce a coin, try not to look sad;
It won’t get to land before I send you
Beaten so bad like a kick to the groin
You can’t beat Bro at shit, I’m simply the best there is
Holding a monopoly on the asskicking biz.
Ay, tis a rare gift indeed, and growing ever scarcer. I am its torch barer, fighting for dear life to keep the flame burning in a sea of frenzied shippers.
A thankless task, but it must be done nevertheless.
She sleeps in tower ivory, she dreams in one of gold,
At once she is both young and dead and old.
She sees what is to happen, knows not what will unfold.
Fire took her dreams away, now emptiness rules sleep,
In bubbles ruled by creatures mad her sanity she keeps
And through the madness she becomes a wolf and not a sheep.
Now space is in her grasp, power great and vast
And on the golden inch she sails on ship of golden masts
To face a fiend of power cosmic, whose reign forever lasts.
How will this journey end, no one can be sure,
But however it will end, the universe she’ll cure.
John:
Zephyr his mount, sapphire his cape
The Heir arrives on wings of storm
Lightning his scepter, thunder his crown
The power of Breath the world does transform
Light on his feet, light in his heart
Greatness is his, his to perform
Potential endless, given by air
The power of Breath the world does transform
Joy rules him still, though darkness looms close
And sorrows and pain threaten to swarm
He rises above, the sky is his throne
The power of Breath the world does transform
Though kindness is his, cruelty cast aside
Threaten his kin, trouble their form
And prepare to reap a whirlwind of force
The power of Breath your hate will transform.
Rose:
At the tip of her wand seraphim dance
A ballet of strife with devils of chance.
Sable and Emerald duel for her mind;
If either prevails , her fate won’t be kind
At all times in control, except when she’s not.
Aberrations of dread foul feelers do send.
They whisper of treason, damnation and rot,
Of crimes she could never hope to amend.
She will not surrender, relinquish no sliver
Of her mind to the hunters that come from the void.
Fight them every step, she won’t falter or quiver;
She fights for herself, least she be destroyed.
With wizardry and light, the future she scouts,
The roll of the dice now her crystal ball,
And though what she sees may cause her some doubt
The Seer will never again be a thrall.
Furious Pariah, hard of shell
Herder of wolves, they bite at his ankles
Making his way through a hazy hell.
Hurried the midwife, doomed the born
Ruinous creator, tumorous doctor
He failed, for hatred now sworn.
In desolation lingers, never dares to hope
For he knows hope is a butcher
With his helplessness he cannot cope
Rage too betrayed him, bond asunder
Leaving a trail of corpses behind
The jester cares not if he goes under
Trapped in loathing, harried by temporal shades
Cursed by heretical plasma, hidden by shame
Jealousy grows, cultivated by sightless blades
Blindness sneers at him
Callousness will spare not a moment
His blood by loneliness made dim
Kanaya:
On sunny sands she walks, while others in darkness sleep.
Caring soul, ancestor to a generation that will never be born.
Care is met with cruelty, dealt by the spider’s sting,
Her love is repaid with indifference, pricks like the sharpest thorn.
Amphibian progeny she raises, watched by a warrior filled with pride
Haste her child will doom, the warrior demands it still, she obeys.
A universe is born only to die again.
Her love is repaid by stillbirth; her child will never see the light of day.
Fleeing from bladed death, her last hope has yet to hatch,
She shows compassion to a wounded soul, giving it a goal.
That hope is a devil in sheep’s skin, and burns all others.
Her love is repaid with treason, and in her heart a hole.
With vengeance she rises again, less and more than she was.
The devil is cleaved by a sword of teeth. It gives her no peace.
Now she searches for a space to call her own.
Her love is waiting for a balm that the pain will cease.
He is without equal, brain like a storm
Hateful and wretched, worthless worm
Wisdom and knowledge, power unknown
Ignorant fool, his fate does bemoan
Fierce is his mind, fierce his heart too
Cowardly maggot of red and blue
She was his best friend, she could have been more
He fired and fired, left nothing but gore
He saved her life, she kissed him and smiled
Shot through the chest, while he choked on bile
He did what he could, it wasn’t his fault
He failed like always, her death couldn’t halt
Blackness unfolds him, no more red and blue
Duality vanished, the dying shouts are gone
Peace at last, a final dark dawn.
Tranquility in emptiness
Rest in the void
Clarity in blindness
Unity in death.
Pointy shades, bulbous rump
Ironic coolness, rhymes I pump
Shatterproof sword, Causal cap
Layers of satire, I take no crap
Flashy moves, tasty grooves
Never lose, always the one to choose
Faster than sound, flashing around
Cutting fools down, fighting black clowns
Jet board, can’t be ignored, check out the sword
Slashing through imps like metaphysical gourds
Grist hoard, everything afford, won every single possible award
Shit so easy, I get bored.
Got Cal, best pal, me and him is an entire cabal
Bounce a coin, try not to look sad;
It won’t get to land before I send you
Beaten so bad like a kick to the groin
You can’t beat Bro at shit, I’m simply the best there is
Holding a monopoly on the asskicking biz.
up on melancholy hill where there's a plastic tree
Posts
2,007
Re: Vriska Quarantine 7: Not Lucky Enough
Originally Posted by Dmatix
Ay, tis a rare gift indeed, and growing ever scarcer. I am its torch barer, fighting for dear life to keep the flame burning in a sea of frenzied shippers.
A thankless task, but it must be done nevertheless.
what do you do if it metaphorically rains metaphoric vriskafan rain
how does your metaphoric fire metaphorically thrive