216 Days (NSFW) (Circumventing Game Mechanics. With Style! No Not Really.)
Author Disclaimer/Apologies
This is to see if I have the grit to write a story. And to see if I can write out something legible with the fear of being eaten and flayed by incensed forum-goers. Also, drawing tools elude me. Or I would at least give a very poorly-done representation of what is happening. That will be a side-quest sometime later. If it gets there.
Commands will be accepted at any time, if anyone feels like it.
Why the sudden change to NSFW?
I figured that this has been long overdue anyway. It's been brought up as a cheap comedic tool, sure, but I think it should have one anyway so anyone new will know what they're getting into.
As if anyone would actually read this storyThis thread is NSFW for so, so, so many triggers including but not limited to
-Violence (And dry and poorly depicted violence at that.)
-Conversations about sex as can only be talked about by battle-scarred yet ultimately stupid teenage boys (Probably the most normal and understandable trigger out of the lot.)
-Dialogue-only style leading to a severe deficiency in descriptions (Could be worse, could be a million pages of awkward purple prose.)
-Eye-wrenching pictures that further contribute to aforementioned problem. (At least it went from -3.4 to like a 2 out of 10.)
-Gore (But really, you know he deserved it that time. And that other time. And that other other time.)
-Sex pertaining to minors (Meant to insert witty observation, but then the computer crashed. And then someone stepped on the power cord.)
-Botched story arcs (I forget which, which is only further proof that said arcs have been utterly wrecked.)
-Child soldiers (The one with the really short lifespan has an excuse, but the old world guys don't even.)
-Absolutely no humor whatsoever (Sadly not enough to twist back into bad, Cage-esque hilarity.)
-Unoriginal references (Even the obscure and accidental ones. Especially the obscure ones, since they're probably well-hidden to disguise that they're overused.)
-Skipping over vital plot points at the worst possible times (Plot? What plot?)
-Contrived, convoluted, and canon-defiling plot (Again, what plot? There's a plot?)
-Overly self-referential (Yyyyyyep.)
-Frivolous and pointless motifs (Or are they? Nope, they aren't.)
-Rather depressing at times (Losing parents is acceptably sad, whining after not having the grit to ask someone out is not.)
-Warhammer 40000 (And yes, it's the same guy in the gore warning. Who would've guessed?)
-Excessive blood (Either this is in the Hellsing universe, or everyone has really, really high blood pressure.)
-Multiple discussions and carrying-outs of rape (Thankfully not depicted or even the actual act itself discussed at any point.)
-Minors with alcohol (And no one thought giving the guy with the giant power maul alcoholic beverages was a bad idea?)
-Everything even remotely serious in the list savagely and irreverently lampshaded by the cast (Turns out TvTropes actually does ruin lives.)
-Genocide (Probably the wrong terminology but gets the meaning across.)
-Mood whiplash (Probably the only thing this shares with the canon.)
And probably a myriad more triggers. Quite frankly, this would be a fucked up story even if it were written with any degree of quality. Also realized the subtitles will have to be shorter from now on. Damn.
>Do something already.
But... but where's the exposition?!
>You exist. Do something before I dis-exposition you.
Ok?
Uh.... I'm stuck. Welp.
I don't think he realizes I can see that too.
In any case, existing here is a boy. This boy seems to be standing in a room on the 19th of March, ten and some odd years after his arrival, conveniently marked by much screaming and hand-crushing. He has some names, but he does not have a name. What is his name? How will he define himself? He may or may not be lacking in the upstairs department. I make a perfectly good omnibook and omni-UI, slave over a hot forge all day making a strife specibus for him, and he has the gall to not look around and at least acknowledge admittedly mysterious items that.... well, it's a matter of principles! In any case, if he can't appreciate it, I may as well turn it over to y'all.
>NEW GAME< (Insane Difficulty Chosen!)
Select difficulty
>Normal players will flee
>Difficult to not break your keyboard or head
>Brutally terrifying lawsuits from angry gamers >If you're not a Scorpio with a psychopathic need to win, leave.
Aliasing options [] (Auto-off due to settings. Check your graphics cards) Graphics quality [] (Auto-off due to settings. Check your graphics cards) NSFW content [] (Auto-off due to author shenanigans. Consult your local First Guardian, if applicable) Director's commentary [x]
Peruse Chatlogs (C)
Your cast calculus calibrator keeps getting zero. You should add friends. One (1) ChatMemo Opening Request
Manual (J)
Enter phrase (advanced search disabled) ________
Check Abilities (N)
Offense
Auto-attack
Uses (error) specibus to aggrieve enemy.
Mangrit charge
"No one puts me in a corner!"
Removes 1d4 stacks of movement-impairing effects.
Also grants increased STR, CON, SAN.
Traits
Plot Armor
"(stock description)"
Bernard cannot yet die. Anything else, though, is fair game
Fraymotifs
Bernard has yet to learn any fraymotifs
Save
Game saved!
Load
You have not researched breathing! Or loading, for that matter.
My name is Bernard Bartlett. How dare you attempt to force your authoritay on meh.
I will break your teeth for even daring to think you can simply whisk me into nothingness. What are you, a wizard?
>Pick up Omnibook and Omni-UI
Judging by that massive thing up there, I think I already have it.
>Test out your strife specibus.
Says here in the manual I get to choose something. Doesn't matter how unfeasible it is.
>TROLOLOL. You can't pick one, it's decided by the dark gods.
Uh, no it isn't. It says.... oh.
>Kid, I wrote the damn thing.
What shall be this sudden badass' weapon of choice? And what should he do next?
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.
Aliasing options [] (Auto-off due to settings. Check your graphics cards) Graphics quality [] (Auto-off due to settings. Check your graphics cards) NSFW content [] (Auto-off due to author shenanigans. Consult your local First Guardian, if applicable) Director's commentary [x]
Peruse Chatlogs (C)
Your cast calculus calibrator keeps getting zero. You should add friends. Communication medium unavailable atm.
Manual (J)
Enter phrase (advanced search disabled) ________
Check Abilities (N)
Offense
Auto-attack
Uses axekind specibus to aggrieve enemy.
Mangrit charge
"No one puts me in a corner!"
Removes 1d4 stacks of movement-impairing effects.
Also grants increased STR, CON, SAN.
Traits
Plot Armor
"(stock description)"
Bernard cannot yet die. Anything else, though, is fair game
Fraymotifs
Bernard has yet to learn any fraymotifs
Save
Game saved!
Load
You have not researched breathing! Or loading, for that matter.
>Bernard: Ponder the axekind
Hmm... Axes could come useful, 'specially if I gotta chop up someone good later on.
>Bernard: Wonder if you can fuse a knife and an axe
I prolly could, but I'll need duct tape.
>Bernard: Contemplate claykind and appallinginorganicappendagekind
I.... But how does... Clay? Fat chance. A robot arm might be nice, though I dunno if I'd give up a real arm for it.
Eh, what the hell. AXEKIND IT IS.
>Bernard: Obtain fire axe
ALL SHALL FEAR THE AXE OF FIRE.
BRING FORTH THE FIRE.
Fire? Helloooooo. Fire?
>JO: Facepalm.
>Bernard: Move on from devastating lack of fulfillment.
Says I never picked the difficulty....Wait.
How dare this thang tell me what I can and cannot do. Screw the Scorpios. Screw all of them. All of them. ALL OF THEM.
>Bernard: Continue to rant You cannot rant, because there is a sudden bed intruder!
>Bed Intruder: Break into song
That's silly! And could possibly invoke forces far greater than your comprehension or, indeed, patience.
Bed Intruder uses SPEAK.
Jason Orville talked to Bernard Bartlett at 9:27AM, 3/19
JO: Bernie, tell me, how long have you been standing there like that?
BB: A few minutes is all. I assume the chatlog request is yours?
JO: It does, but it doesn't matter anymore. Uninstall it. And I'll need to put my cord up your port.
BB: ....
BB: Riiiight. What do you want again? This works just fine.
JO: With the exception of anyone with Trollian. Anyway, Pesterchum came out. I'm downloading it to your UI now.
BB: Where's the cord?
JO: What pumpkin? It's wireless.
BB: So that whole cord thing...
JO: I have others for that.
BB: Sure you do. Alright, how does this thing work?
JO: Like the chatlogs, but with color. It's colorful. Pretty colors. So shiny. And bright. Pretty.
JO: Anyway, mine's prometheanProdigy. What's yours?
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.
Aliasing options [] (Auto-off due to settings. Check your graphics cards) Graphics quality [] (Auto-off due to settings. Check your graphics cards) NSFW content [] (Auto-off due to author shenanigans. Consult your local First Guardian, if applicable) Director's commentary [x]
Peruse Chatlogs (C)
prometheanProdigy is online You have two (2) new messages awaiting you.
Manual (J)
Enter phrase (advanced search disabled) ________
Check Abilities (N)
Offense
Auto-attack
Uses axekind specibus to aggrieve enemy.
Mangrit charge
"No one puts me in a corner!"
Removes 1d4 stacks of movement-impairing effects.
Also grants increased STR, CON, SAN.
Traits
Plot Armor
"(stock description)"
Bernard cannot yet die. Anything else, though, is fair game
Fraymotifs
Bernard has yet to learn any fraymotifs
Save
Game saved!
Load
You have not researched breathing! Or loading, for that matter.
Enter (likely mundane and completely illogical) criteria ___________
Whisper
prometheanProdigy:______
Scope dat ass
Scoping request denied. Please inquire as for details.
You are now ionianImperator.
You suppose you can change the color later, when you feel like it.
>iI: Ask pP what to do now.
ionianImperator began pestering prometheanProdigy at 9:28AM, 3/19
iI: Sooo exactly where do we even begin with this whole thing?
pP: I have absolutely no idea where to begin. Fortunately, it seems people planned for this thing.
pP: On April 17, they're holding the biggest gathering of choice dames and stronglads in the city.
pP: I know, I know, it's convenient as hell. But when this starts happening to hundreds, they just happened to realize just how many irons were in the fire.
iI: And enlighten me. Just how many irons were there?
pP: Hundreds. All smoldering like eggs on a sidewalk inside the forge.
pP: Which gives us a quest; find three others to join in, level up as much as possible, and then let fate decide exactly how big a reward shall be given to he who kicks the most ass.
pP: Then hopefully get some of the unkicked ass. For moral reasons.
iI: Moral, I seeeee... Well, then, you'd better make sure dem ladies remember their obviously virginal and moral intentions when they encounter equipment that's say.... lacking.
pP: Oh, is that the game we're playing now?
iI: No, you dunce. We're playing this game, not "oh-help-us-get-this-virgin-laid-so-he-stops-whining."
iI: In any case, scope out the town for choice...
iI: DAMMIT. Just start asking around. I'm pretty sure our mutual acquaintances will agree to this. At least they can tolerate your effete nonesuch-charm.
pP: Oh. You haven't allocated stats yet?
pP: Just remember, there's dating in this!
iI: What in zhe heyll... where did it say that?!
pP: It didn't. But I want that NSFW content. And it has to come from somewhere.
iI: Keep those ponderings in your pants and get going already. This conversation's dragged on faaar too long than I want.
pP: Fine then. As you say, oh great and noble leader.
iI: Someone's gotta keep your ass in line.
pP: Your moth... nah, that's too easy, ironically also like her. See ya!
>iI: Try to remember how you became friends with that walking abomination >iI: Forget it. I'm too lazy. And stuff needs to be done.
You try to allocate stats, but you end up holding off on it, at least till you can find some translator or some mod. There are simply far too many stats modify-able. Who knew aglet-crafting was a skill?
Ok, done. Got about a month less two days, less some ten-odd minutes spent deciphering your Voynich of a stat sheet in vain.
So, what now?
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.
Aliasing options [] (Auto-off due to settings. Check your graphics cards) Graphics quality [] (Auto-off due to settings. Check your graphics cards) NSFW content [] (Auto-off due to author shenanigans. Consult your local First Guardian, if applicable) Director's commentary [x]
Peruse Chatlogs (C)
prometheanProdigy is online You have two (2) new messages awaiting you.
Manual (J)
Enter phrase (advanced search disabled) ________
Check Abilities (N)
Offense
Auto-attack
Uses axekind specibus to aggrieve enemy.
Mangrit charge
"No one puts me in a corner!"
Removes 1d4 stacks of movement-impairing effects.
Also grants increased STR, CON, SAN.
Traits
Plot Armor
"(stock description)"
Bernard cannot yet die. Anything else, though, is fair game
Fraymotifs
Bernard has yet to learn any fraymotifs
Save
Game saved!
Load
You have not researched breathing! Or loading, for that matter.
Enter (likely mundane and completely illogical) criteria ___________
Whisper
prometheanProdigy:______
Scope dat ass
Scoping request denied. Please inquire as for details.
>iI: Look around your room
You scrounge around your numerous and assorted bookshelves. You kick your couch in frustration, unsettling the cushions. You find a few obligatory vandalism-approval rewards in the form of a few boondollars.
You consider destroying everything for more money, but it'd be a pain to replace all your stuff.
You decide now's a good time to get out of your room and go to the commons.
>iI: Head to the commons
You go out the door, hang a right, then take the stairs down. You encounter a rather hurried troll strongrunning up the stairs. You give him a wide berth.
The commons is really the center of life in the hive. As a mainly troll hive, the furniture reflects them, as seen in the sopor. You'd wish they'd change to the new blue synthetic kind, but nothing much to be done about that.
Recently, however, it's turned into a festering hive of scum, villainy, and rampant blackroms. The first two you're used to, nay, contributed to. The 3rd is rather new.
You're actually not sure what's worse; when everyone was oozing over each other with flushed red feelings, then turning into some massive make-out session, or now, where everyone's yelling and fighting each other, then... still make-outs. Damn trolls these days.
You suddenly realize you've been standing around for a few minutes. You felt someone was supposed to come up to talk to you, but maybe it's the weather these days. The air of the void is clearly not conducive to humans. The only planet you can think of that is has kinda become a mutual killing ground.
End of Day 1 Bernard Bartlett Arc >Switch: Jason Orville
>Command?
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.
>JO: Be a high class gentlemen. None of that ruffian shit like your uncivilized friend there.
Ah, but technically, I'm the uncivilized one. He lives in an area that looks like the recruiting center of both the 25th "Voidbeast" Ruffiannihilators and the 17th naval Gamblignants. I guess it helps (or not, really) that he's bound for the 7th Avernian legion when he grows up.
>JO: Wear the pocketwatch. Be the gentleman.
Oh dear, it seems I've left that at home, being a relic you only bring on the finest events, for the finest attire. I am not in a situation where I require enough charm to seduce even the Empress.
But I do have a pocket-UI. It's good for everything.
>JO: Blah blah, shut up. BE THE GENTLEMAN.
I have a top hat, a shirt with sleeves for once, and pants that go midway beneath my thighs. Excuse me.
I just sipped some tea and gingerly ate a biscuit. The only way this could get fancier is if I suddenly gained all the levels and became the LORD of EPIC. Or some such title. I leave the wordplay to others.
>JO: Engage in ruffian behavior.
Oh no, no, no. This is not simple ruffian behavior. This is ruffian behavior not for those that have some levels and are midway onto becoming an Uncouth Brigand. No, this is for those who have gained ALL the levels.
Reading.
You see, I'm currently perusing three articles of text, each from different newspapers.
The illegal behavior? There is only one newspaper known to exist in the city.
One is favored by the Empress herself, when she can read it. The other two are... far less reputable.
Tales of the Cavalreapers 42; The Slaying of a Greater Horrorterror and Twenty-Two Underlings
The 9th Cavalreapers Recently Slew Another Horrorterror That Aggrieved The Walls Of Derse.
The Cavalreapers Drew Their Lances And Met The Enemy In Belligerent Combat.
The Greater Horrorterror Known As Some Indecipherable Utterings Of A Foul And Void Tongue Was Slain
As Well As The Minions It Brought. There Were Eight Weakling Troll Casualties And Thirty Mutant Cullings.
a mESSAGE fROM tHE cALLER
tHE cALLER GIVES US THIS MESSAGE. dO NOT LISTEN TO THE LIES AND BLASPHEMY OF THE hUGE bITCH.
wE MUST FIGHT FOR A BETTER WORLD. oNCE, THE WORLD WAS NOT SO. tHE PIGMENT OF OUR BLOOD DID NOT Message delete: Successful
Oh blah blah blah. Shut up already, tool.
Bombing in Nespar Square
March 17, (error); Three days ago, the revolutionary group known as the Skaian Dreamers unleashed a new string of attacks,
causing over 4 million of damage in boondollars. Legislacerator Iernos was deployed to the scene immediately. The attacks
killed thirteen trolls of various bloods, as well as a human.
Today; Nespar Square is bombed with incendiaries and fear. The main plaza was bombed by an ISB (improvised shaving bomb),
maiming eight people. Soon after, various forms of the phrase "Die mutants" was uttered by many who witnessed the incident.
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.
>JO: Engage in acts of high class savagery. Be the ruthlessly royal ruffian.
Nah. It's hard to engage in such acts so quickly. Seadwellers don't come out that often. Also, I'd need help to get past their retinue.
Unless you meant the other type, which I'm about to do now.
See, I'd like to bring up a point I made earlier. I have others where I can place my cord.
I must remind myself that I am extremely heterosexual today.
That, and I fell prey to a classic stereotype; there is a mutual acquaintance I am to speak with today...
Yet I have forgotten her name. Well, it didn't help that I didn't get her Pesterchum handle yet either.
This is where I solicit you for your assistance, telling me her handle and name.
Yes? No? I realize I could've to ask Bernie again for the details on such a thing, but he has yet to break the fourth wall.
>JO: Engage in low class ruffian antics
Come on, I need a name and a handle! Do it! There will be biscuits as rewards.
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.
Jason Orville talked to Lena Travencal at 10:34AM, 3/19
JO: Hello dear, good to see you. Candy? A ride through the countryside in my white van?
LT: Maybe later. I love rides. But pleasure later. Did you do your part?
JO: Always a tease.
LT: You didn't?
JO: No, I did.
JO: 1) Find Bernard Bartlett, inform him of the game and the upcoming tournament for the game. Check.
JO: 2) Make sure he has a specibus (axekind, thank you) and update him to Pesterchum. Check.
LT: And the other thing?
JO: What other thing?
LT: Uh, 3) Tell Bernie of my chumhandle, then tell him to message me?!
JO: I snuck a peek at his UI. He had two messages waiting for him. I'd assumed one of them was a detailed description of your body.
LT: And I was supposed to know his UI how?
Lena Travencal bitch-slapped Jason Orville at 10:36AM, 3/19.
Jason Orville began whining at Lena Travencal at 10:36AM, 3/19
Aforementioned parties continued talking at 10:42AM, 3/19
JO: Well, blah blah to you too. Bitch.
LT: I'd tell you to kiss my ass, but you'd actually do it, then I'd have to do a 2x BITCHSLAP COMBO.
JO: Time for that later. So how's the tourney going?
LT: It's going well. I've called the companies and set up food. Also, I've informed every major FLARP guild.
LT: They'll all be there, whether to fight, scope some choice prey, choice asses, and or choice recruits.
JO: Nice. What does that bring the head count to? A few hundred?
LT: At least six hundred, from what I'm anticipating.
JO: I believe this is the beginning of something incredibly awesome.
JO: So about that ride.
Lena Travencal bitch-slapped Jason Orville at 10:45PM. 2x BITCHSLAP COMBO
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.
>JO: Scheme malevolent and totally awesome plots against the huge bitch.
Huh? Why would I do that? She gets away with what she does is since she's my best friend.
Also, it helps that she's one of the few that's trusted among humans and not automatically hated among trolls. Kinda like this troll we know, who acts like her, but for the trolls.
Let's make it clear; if I were in trouble, I would rely on Bernie to figure out what the hell needs to be done, and for Lena to get it done.
>JO: Start valiantly climbing the echeladder.
Alright, time to do this! Lena, let's get up! Lena?
Oh right.
Jason Orville talked to Lena Travencal at 10:47AM, 3/19
JO: Let's do this shit! Let's pick up Bernie and start killing everything!
LT: Right. Because killing is the only solution. I've already gained levels for diplomacy.
JO: So I can get levels for getting with others?
LT: I'm going to hate myself for saying yes. Yes. Yes you can.
JO: Score!
Velias Narfos joined the conversation at 10:48AM, 3/19
VN: Lena! Hi!
LT: Velias! How are you? How's the guild?
VN: We're doing very well. Uh, have you seen Cirona recently?
LT: No, actually. I haven't heard from her for a few days.
JO: She talked to me yesterday. Gave me a very firm speech on respecting the other gender.
VN: Oh. Alright. Well, if you see her, let me know. We'd like to figure out her role for some calculations.
LT: Roles?
VN: Yep. We've found our roles. They're not what I thought they'd be, and they seem to derive party from mythology.
VN: I don't trust it. Mine's supposed to be insanity!rage. That's not comforting.
LT: Oh. Oh dear.
JO: Do you have that thingamajig on you atm?
VN: You want to check your own roles? Okay, gimme a moment.
VN: Interesting.
VN: Jason, yours is fire!light. Nice.
VN: Lena... Hmm? Mutation!life. I always knew you were at least partly a troll.
LT: Oh well!
JO: Fire? Oh.
HELL
FUCKING
YES.
Like we didn't see that last part coming.
But what's Bernard been up to?
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.