[Discussion] B????????????L?????????????A??????R?????G?????H????A????G????????B????????R?A???????A???????A?????S?????????F???????H???G???????????J?
- Thread starter Blarzigord
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HyperMorian
Busy with University.
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"... Huh. What is this sticky thing, in my pants?" The boy says, squeezing it out without realization on what he is touching. Soon, he finds himself bound on a spider web.
"Oh, hey." He glances at the side calmly, facing towards the multiple eyes glaring at him. "You've just captured the one who set you free back on that Wednesday. I haven't the slightest idea of your intention, but to think we'd meet up again in a different place, it's special. In return, can you get me off and lead me to where I should go?"
"Oh, hey." He glances at the side calmly, facing towards the multiple eyes glaring at him. "You've just captured the one who set you free back on that Wednesday. I haven't the slightest idea of your intention, but to think we'd meet up again in a different place, it's special. In return, can you get me off and lead me to where I should go?"
Blarzigord
B͉̭̦͓̲̩̦L̘͉̺̩? ?͙A̖̬̜̞͇R̢ͅG̛̭? ?Ḫ̨̯̭͕̯̙̮A͞B̗? ?͍͇
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ACTIONS
You let out a mighty "yeehaw!" as your spider rears up on its hind four legs. This causes you to drop your delicious pancake stack, which the other spiders all flock towards to munch on. Using this distraction you give your spider's large tentacled abdomen a smack with your heels, and it gallops onwards up the web and into the sunset.
You GAINED ONE SPIDER MOUNT.
You LOST YOUR PANCAKES.
As you light the fuse and toss the molotov cocktail into the web, you sigh in relief as your battery is recharged, and the webbing holding you captive burns away along with the nearest spider. However this relief vanishes immediately as you realize the foolishness of your actions. Your pie henchmen, which had come to your rescue armed with various pie-weapons, begin screaming in terror as the flames engulf them too. You manage to make it out unharmed, but with your freshly baked allies no longer at your side.
You LOST ALL THREE PIE HENCHMEN.
You LOST YOUR MOLOTOV COCKTAIL.
You host a funeral service for your fallen hillbilly comrades, celebrating their short existence with copious amounts of moonshine and cow tipping. Catering is provided by the spiders.
You ONLY HAVE TWO HILLBILLIES LEFT.
MacIntyre feels the pain of your loss, and consoles you with the use of a limited edition sponsored Skype emoji from the highly successful* and enjoyable Angry™ Birds™ Movie™™™,
You LOST ONE OAK TREE.
You GAINED ONE PAIR OF INSPIRATIONAL WHITE SHOES.
Blarzigord sighs and teleports you to a hot bath in a four-star hotel, cleaning you and giving you some much needed rest from all of this chaos. However as you exit the hotel and gather your stuff, you notice that the hotel staff has stolen your crossbow but kept the arrows.
You LOST ONE CROSSBOW.
As you fire around madly the spiders' bodies explode into blood and slimy guts, spraying you with their insides. By the time you kill all of them you are absolutely drenched in spider blood, and the blood which got inside your bottle has fermented enough for you to treat it as some sort of haemoglobin-rich wine.
You try to get out of the web with your martial arts skills but to no avail. Suddenly, you realize the spider in front of you isn't actually snapping viciously at you, it's wearing a fedora and smoking a cigarette. "Hand 'im over, Roger." it instructs, and before you can reply a hairy spider leg snatches Carl from on top of your bucket and takes him away. You scream in rage and sadness as your friend is kidnapped, and the spider boss simply laughs as he tosses his cigarette and walks away. Thankfully after a while the cigarette burns the net binding you. As you get free, you vow to rescue Carl whatever the cost.
"Oh yeah, sure thing, bruv." one of the spiders casually responds. He doesn't explain why you were even tied up in the first place, and just pats you on the back and gives you a friendly mandibled smile. You and the other spiders drive around town for a bit before they drop you off at the spider bus stop, which they claim should take you anywhere you want. They also give you a bus pass so you can use the bus.
You GAINED ONE BUS PASS.
EVENT VI
B̫̟̹̜̼̳̙͘L̦͢ͅA̮̟̳͕R͚̣G̬̖̯ͅF̢͚͚̼B̦̩̥͜F̵̣K͉͘R̝̩F͈͙̥̜̪͎̻͠G̸̖̙̝͚̟R̷̝͎͚̞͚͚
What a wacky group of spiders that was, you think to yourself as you walk,
stumble or ride your away away from the arachnid realm of Blarzigord's world. Then slowly, you realize that with every second, and every step you take, the world seems to get blurrier, and your eyes heavier. Soon you can't even stand upright, and then... bam, you fall to the ground, asleep.
Wehn you wake up, you immediately realize you're in a much small place now. The brick walls are curved inwards, almost as if you're inside a giant cylinder. After a few moments of trying to recall basic blargology,
you come to the conclusion you are in a well. Just in time too, as the moment you figure this out, a hot,
green liquid begins to ooze from the floor beneath you - green lava! Looking up, it seems like you can get out of this well if you climbed high enough. Will it all end well for you?
What a wacky group of spiders that was, you think to yourself as you walk,
stumble or ride your away away from the arachnid realm of Blarzigord's world. Then slowly, you realize that with every second, and every step you take, the world seems to get blurrier, and your eyes heavier. Soon you can't even stand upright, and then... bam, you fall to the ground, asleep.
Wehn you wake up, you immediately realize you're in a much small place now. The brick walls are curved inwards, almost as if you're inside a giant cylinder. After a few moments of trying to recall basic blargology,
you come to the conclusion you are in a well. Just in time too, as the moment you figure this out, a hot,
green liquid begins to ooze from the floor beneath you - green lava! Looking up, it seems like you can get out of this well if you climbed high enough. Will it all end well for you?
Aeternum stares at the strange liquid now occupying his once empty bottle of booze and then looks down at the lava which is flowing up towards him. With a shrug of his shoulders, the man downs half the bottle and then begins to slowly climb the wall as best as he can.
Salzorrah
[font=Montserrat][b][color=#66CC66]g[/color][color
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Salzorrah gives thanks to the Unholy Tentacle and jumps very high, landing outside of the well.
metroid711
Thumbs up~
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He clenched his fist with rage as he stared up. He let out a heart felt yell. Using the determination to save his friend he started to climb up the side of the well.
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HyperMorian
Busy with University.
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The boy stands to face the light thrown from above. He squints for a good minute, and speaks.
"This bizarre adventure is starting to get on my nerves."
Looking around, the only way to get out is to climb. Unfortunately for him, the weight of his equipment does not favor his side. He certainly does not want to eschew his equipment just so he can reach the other side, and the leaking green goo also does not make things better for once.
"Humph." The boy sighs, "Guess I should use this."
He withdraws out a piece of ticket that he recalls to have been received as a parting gift with the spiders. He raises his hand to flash the ticket.
"This bizarre adventure is starting to get on my nerves."
Looking around, the only way to get out is to climb. Unfortunately for him, the weight of his equipment does not favor his side. He certainly does not want to eschew his equipment just so he can reach the other side, and the leaking green goo also does not make things better for once.
"Humph." The boy sighs, "Guess I should use this."
He withdraws out a piece of ticket that he recalls to have been received as a parting gift with the spiders. He raises his hand to flash the ticket.
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Godzil sleeps peacefully, carried by his two hillbilly minions, Joe Don and Jim Bob. Even in sleep, he rambles on, muttering under his breath. "Even now, in the realm of dreams, my adventure continues..."
He awakens hours later in a daze. "Bleh... disorientation and confusion cloud my mind as I rouse myself from slumber..." He stands and stretches, finding himself in a small room. "Good heavens, where am I?"
Joe Don clears his throat, approaching in the cramped space. "Sorry, Hoss. Jim Bob and I fell down a durn hole. We wasn't payin' attention, and landed in this here well right here. Jim Bob done broke his legs in the fall, but I'm fine. You landed in him, so you's fine too."
"I hurt everwhere, boss!" Jim Bob helpfully provides.
Godzil ponders this new information, when suddenly, green lava! It instantly sets Jim Bob aflame. "Incineration and impediment!" Godzil exclaims, leaping into Joe Don's beefy arms. "Death approaches!"
"Not for you, Hoss!" Joe Don throws Godzil into the air. Godzil manages to catch hold of the bucket, inspired by his minion's heroic sacrifice. "I'd'a followed you to Hell and back, sir!"
Godzil climbs into the bucket, bracing himself against the walls of the well. Naturally, the bucket was designed to draw lava from the well, so it is lavaproof, granting Godzil a free ride to the top of the well as it fills up. "Farewell, my loyal friends. May banjos play thee to the rest."
He awakens hours later in a daze. "Bleh... disorientation and confusion cloud my mind as I rouse myself from slumber..." He stands and stretches, finding himself in a small room. "Good heavens, where am I?"
Joe Don clears his throat, approaching in the cramped space. "Sorry, Hoss. Jim Bob and I fell down a durn hole. We wasn't payin' attention, and landed in this here well right here. Jim Bob done broke his legs in the fall, but I'm fine. You landed in him, so you's fine too."
"I hurt everwhere, boss!" Jim Bob helpfully provides.
Godzil ponders this new information, when suddenly, green lava! It instantly sets Jim Bob aflame. "Incineration and impediment!" Godzil exclaims, leaping into Joe Don's beefy arms. "Death approaches!"
"Not for you, Hoss!" Joe Don throws Godzil into the air. Godzil manages to catch hold of the bucket, inspired by his minion's heroic sacrifice. "I'd'a followed you to Hell and back, sir!"
Godzil climbs into the bucket, bracing himself against the walls of the well. Naturally, the bucket was designed to draw lava from the well, so it is lavaproof, granting Godzil a free ride to the top of the well as it fills up. "Farewell, my loyal friends. May banjos play thee to the rest."
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Every time Ihsaan took a step loud J-Rock blared in his head, filling him with the will to go on. In fact, without the melodious strums of the electric guitar drowning out the pain, he would have passed out a while ago.
"I swear I've heard this one before- AHHH!"
Where ground should have been, the brand new shoes found something their owner was accustomed to; emptiness. With yells impressively grazing the edge of the soprano range he plummeted straight downwards, his left nipple acting as a centre of gravity. The fall didn't hurt the poor boy too much-
"HOLY F-"
But it did hurt a lot more than it should have. Although the floor was surprisingly soft, his spike landed first, focusing the energy of the fall onto his torso. Although not a doctor, Ihsaan had owned his body for long enough to know something was wrong.
"MY RIBS ARE BROKEN. OH NO. IT HURTS. INSPIRATION ISN'T WORTH CRAP,"
Besides being excruciating, his position posed one more disadvantaged. He did not notice the barrage of tentacled spiders attacking till the very last moment. His morale was destroyed, Spider-Man was his favourite superhero. However, his morale wasn't the only thing shattered by the Blarzpiders, A bloody spike lay next to him, leading a trail of red away from his now fleshless nipple. The agony brought the multi-flavoured slimes forth from his bowels. The spiders appeared to be extremely interested in the slime, and eventually all of them began consuming it, even fighting each other for a taste of that sweet maple pecan. Ihsaan took this opportunity to use the severed spike to cut the sticky webs surrounding him, until he began freefalling once more. But this time Ihsaan was prepared, he would use the spike as a landing point, distributing all of his weight onto that.
"I HOPE THIS WORKS!"
And it would have, if Ihsaan did not have the vitals of an old man on his deathbed. He screwed the landing up, completely shattering his left leg. The last thing he saw before passing out was a green, warm substance surrounding him from all sides. It did not matter however, he was too weak to move, too weak to do anything. Before passing out he still had time to pull out one of his classic one-liners, though.
"So much for inspiration,"
Man, was he a cool and tortured hero.
"I swear I've heard this one before- AHHH!"
Where ground should have been, the brand new shoes found something their owner was accustomed to; emptiness. With yells impressively grazing the edge of the soprano range he plummeted straight downwards, his left nipple acting as a centre of gravity. The fall didn't hurt the poor boy too much-
"HOLY F-"
But it did hurt a lot more than it should have. Although the floor was surprisingly soft, his spike landed first, focusing the energy of the fall onto his torso. Although not a doctor, Ihsaan had owned his body for long enough to know something was wrong.
"MY RIBS ARE BROKEN. OH NO. IT HURTS. INSPIRATION ISN'T WORTH CRAP,"
Besides being excruciating, his position posed one more disadvantaged. He did not notice the barrage of tentacled spiders attacking till the very last moment. His morale was destroyed, Spider-Man was his favourite superhero. However, his morale wasn't the only thing shattered by the Blarzpiders, A bloody spike lay next to him, leading a trail of red away from his now fleshless nipple. The agony brought the multi-flavoured slimes forth from his bowels. The spiders appeared to be extremely interested in the slime, and eventually all of them began consuming it, even fighting each other for a taste of that sweet maple pecan. Ihsaan took this opportunity to use the severed spike to cut the sticky webs surrounding him, until he began freefalling once more. But this time Ihsaan was prepared, he would use the spike as a landing point, distributing all of his weight onto that.
"I HOPE THIS WORKS!"
And it would have, if Ihsaan did not have the vitals of an old man on his deathbed. He screwed the landing up, completely shattering his left leg. The last thing he saw before passing out was a green, warm substance surrounding him from all sides. It did not matter however, he was too weak to move, too weak to do anything. Before passing out he still had time to pull out one of his classic one-liners, though.
"So much for inspiration,"
Man, was he a cool and tortured hero.
Blarzigord
B͉̭̦͓̲̩̦L̘͉̺̩? ?͙A̖̬̜̞͇R̢ͅG̛̭? ?Ḫ̨̯̭͕̯̙̮A͞B̗? ?͍͇
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ACTIONS
As you climb out of the bucket and onto safe ground, moonshine-tears streaming down your face, you have a moment of silence for Joe Don and Jim Bob. Suddenly, you feel a light breeze, as the air gets chillier for a second. A smile creeps up on your ever-babbling lips. They may have left the world, but they will always be with you... in your heart. No like, literally. Their spirits are now inside yours, empowering you greatly.
Your STRENGTH HAS INCREASED.
Literally out of nowhere, a massive ****ing bus crashes through the well, splashing lava everywhere but luckily avoiding you. The door opens. You see a cranky, grey-haired driver at the wheel, and he stares you down. "GIT IN!" he snaps. You oblige, and he snatches the pass from you with his demonic, clawed hands. "YER GITTIN OFF AT THE NIXT STOP!" he screeches again before slamming on the brakes and driving off into the darkness, not giving you any time to find a seat.
Your martial arts skills allow you to nimbly climb up the wall in record time and you emerge victorious and without breaking a sweat. Great job, sport!
You fail to realize that on the outside of the well is not safe land, but in actuality a spitefully-placed pit of spikes. Following typical platformer rules, you are protected from damage but your armor is broken. Safe-chan is NOT going to be happy (you slept with another man AND broke the gift it gave you? wow, dude. not cool.)
You LOST ALL THREE PIECES OF YOUR ARMOR.
Being drunk to all hell, you of course slip off the wall after your second step and fall into the boiling slime-lava. However as your clothes and burned and your skin is singed, you notice the lava has a taste akin to whiskey... Wasting no time, you begin drinking in massive, inhuman gulps. Before long, the entire content of the well is resting in your belly, turning you into something similar to one those grotesque inflation fetish artworks on the internet.
Just to spite you, one of the pie henchmen resurrects as a zombie and climbs alongside you to the top and immediately turns to ash again when you reach there. It's dark outside, so your battery is not recharged.
As the boiling liquid cover your body and objects, you let out a final curse before being burned to a crisp and perishing pathetically. The air is silent, a moment of mourning for the uneventful life of this sad creature.
The lava continues to rise, and as it reaches the top, a scorched skeleton is ejected out of the liquid and lands on the ground. Suddenly, a familiar spiked hand picks up the skeleton. Wait, it's... Ihsaan! The crowd lets out a confused laugh track as you wink and point at the camera, your body still battered and bones still broken, but your smile ever so shiny. It turns out that while the spiders were busy eating your throw-up, a particularly nerdy one of them had decided to hook you up with the same person who gave spider-man his superpowers: the legendary Lan Stee. He had forced a radioactive lizard to bite your exposed fleshy nipple, giving you powers not-really-beyond imagination! Little did the spike-laden boy know, Lan Stee had a a suspicious tentacle peeking out of his pants...
You CAN NOW MAKE DECOYS OF YOURSELF.
EVENT VII
B̫̟̹̜̼̳̙͘L̦͢ͅA̮̟̳͕R͚̣G̬̖̯ͅF̢͚͚̼B̦̩̥͜F̵̣K͉͘R̝̩F͈͙̥̜̪͎̻͠G̸̖̙̝͚̟R̷̝͎͚̞͚͚
Before you have time to catch your breath after escaping (or not escaping)
the well, a deafening gong sounds across the land, bringing you to your knee as you clutch your ears in pain. When you get back up, you notice you are in a strange green dojo, with a statue of an elderly bidoff in a kimono staring at you and holding out a Pokéball, free for you to take.
In its other hand, it holds 4 crystals, each a different color: red, blue, green and white. After a few seconds you realize he must be representing the overdone trope of the elements, and turn around angrily while muttering something about the final fantasy series. But before you can exit the dojo, a large tentacle (akin to the one you found in the blue plains, if you fought one) appears in front of you, made out of pure flame! Then to your right, a similar one appears, made out of rocks! Then another one, made out of ice! Then you just get a tentacle-shaped cloud that's trying really hard to be intimidating.
The door of the dojo slams shut. You must defeat these tentacles to escape!
Before you have time to catch your breath after escaping (or not escaping)
the well, a deafening gong sounds across the land, bringing you to your knee as you clutch your ears in pain. When you get back up, you notice you are in a strange green dojo, with a statue of an elderly bidoff in a kimono staring at you and holding out a Pokéball, free for you to take.
In its other hand, it holds 4 crystals, each a different color: red, blue, green and white. After a few seconds you realize he must be representing the overdone trope of the elements, and turn around angrily while muttering something about the final fantasy series. But before you can exit the dojo, a large tentacle (akin to the one you found in the blue plains, if you fought one) appears in front of you, made out of pure flame! Then to your right, a similar one appears, made out of rocks! Then another one, made out of ice! Then you just get a tentacle-shaped cloud that's trying really hard to be intimidating.
The door of the dojo slams shut. You must defeat these tentacles to escape!
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"Crystals, is it?" Godzil mutters. "I've seen this before, countless times, such as Final Fantasy! Have you nothing new?" He turns, suddenly menaced by elemental tendrils. "Then again, it would be rude to turn down such a gift!"
He grabs the Pokeball and the four crystals, using his newfound hillbilly strength to tear through the cloud tentacle. "Thank you, statue friend! I humbly accept the responsibility placed upon my shoulders!"
He grabs the Pokeball and the four crystals, using his newfound hillbilly strength to tear through the cloud tentacle. "Thank you, statue friend! I humbly accept the responsibility placed upon my shoulders!"
Junier
Fake Friends Forever (´･ω･`)
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JUNIER is... dumbstruck, and just dumb, but one of these is a new development.
--------The mind of the wretched wheels with banalities collating lust and love and fire. Until today, she would have scoffed at these expressions of pathetic, wasteful emotion; until now, she'd believed it beyond her majesty. But she no longer has an option but to accept her fate: thoroughly, utterly, and undeniably smitten with one Hot Goat.
--------Her goat has gone all molten and magnificent, a masterpiece illuminated in a holy flame-cast glow. Lava veins run his bulging muscularity, down all four of his hairy legs. It will take a while to forget the way his unfocused square pupils caught the light, but even with just sockets, she could never call the "ascended" look a downgrade by any measure. Those horns, too. Junier hadn't recognized them until they started to erupt with fire, but now she can't look away. Even while the heat emitted by her beloved sears her eyes. Even when she plummets into filth unlike her own as the tentacle disparates -- by how far, it makes no difference; this realm refutes physics. Even when Junier lies there baking like the bits of cobbler she's incidentally broken off. She ogles, choking back laser tears, at the beauty before her, wishing, instead of that fire, she could have engulfed him in all her fullness...
--------The Hot Goat looks dejectedly at the remaining ash before moving to greener pastures.
----------But, oh no! Where is that foxy fellow trotting off to? A profusely-sweating Junier breaths heavily through her hanging mouth, and makes haste!
--------Flouncing from the oven, her goat galloping some distance ahead, the iridescence of the dance floor aggravates the "girl" near-immediately as a hallway with sterile walls expands into a flourishing club scene. The last thing she needs is a lapse in her self-pity. So while a beat rattles off in her head, Junier keeps her eyes on her prize.
--------A path of smoldered hoof prints crisscrosses from square to flashing square. The bloat licks her lips and bears down on a certain flaming ungulate--
--------Without warning, MacIntyre's body ceases up. His voice drones forth like an automated message. Amongst all the uncomfortably-advanced vocabulary, Junier manages to comprehend a challenge.
--------Spontaneously, again, the ambassador flies into a routine of hip thrusts and poses, a show of Saturday Night Fever that Junier discerns she is supposed to out-contend. Of course, the very thought makes her want to vomit. Moving around like that would probably make her vomit. Even with her exasperating absence of self-awareness, Junier admits she is fa too exhausted to dance. (That had to be the only reason.)
--------Wading there in filth and fluids, as MacIntyre dances circles around her, as the music swells in her head like a growing migraine, the scourge on humanity is flat-lining again, as in the oven, as with the tree. Envy and bitterness and inactivity; a lump builds in her throat, and her vision begins to blur. But then, amidst all the glitz, she sees smoke pluming from the horns of a warmly familiar face and understands she is not alone. The "eyes-meet-across-a-crowded-room" plays out. Junier, shielding her gaze, knows it to be true, that they have a connection; this is something real. And so she reaches to Hot Goat, from the depths of her rotten soul. Dearly beloved, lend me your power...
--------A burst of radiance expands and quells itself in an instance. Once engulfed, the blight remains, eyes flying open to reveal her pupils replaced with a harsh red light. Accessing her inner beast, Hot Goat's fire now resides inside Junier!
--------To the tune of His Greatness' ceaseless song, as MacIntyre dances on, the bloat grabs a mic and does him one better:
--------"Huh?" Junier watches with bewilderment as she arrives at a podium at the far side of the room. MacIntyre is there in a tux, and the two shake hands, before Junier slops over the top of the stand, her voice voluminous across, curiously, a crowd of disembodied pie chunks. The beat bestowed by His Greatness has been replaced for simulated applause.
--------The blight, different but the same, flashes a jaundiced grin in response to the enumeration, raising her Grammy high, then bellowing, "Clearly, I'm blessed by you-know-who to receive this award tonight. Truly, it's a honor--", but evidently not a humbling one as she elaborates,"--to be recognized for my talent by you all. There are just too many people I'd love to acknowledge, I wouldn't want to take too much of everyone's time to say anything other than how amazing it feels to have gotten so successful. Performing the Best Freestyle in History is one thing, but getting attention for it is the real accomplishment."
--------"Hold on!" The other unrecognized Junier bombards through the crowd. "Is this a 'Cadbury & Cadbury' thing or are you a sock puppet? 'cause this is surreal right now."
--------Junier the Second's face appears to fold in as she furrows her brow. "Seriously? You're gonna throw all your inside jokes out at once, huh? You know no one reads other peoples' posts, right? Who do you want to impress?"
--------"...those were jokes?" Junier the First is entirely unwitting.
--------"Idiot!" sneers her doppelgänger. "You lost the right for a coherent, non-self-effacing story, like, a few paragraphs ago. Start adapting faster."
--------Not appreciative of chastisement from herself, the First retorts in a bile-ridden roar, "Forget it, bitch, I don't care who you are. But you do not get to mack my bars. Hand over the Grammy, you fake--"
--------"Wassat? Can't hear you over my success!"
--------At least the First has fixated on some material reward, so there can be an end incentive to their bickering. Unfortunately, though, neither will back down without a victor, and even then there will inevitably be contention. But only one Junier can proceed. Hot Goat must understand this because he's already leaving.
--------"Hol' up, my mans' is off," announces Junier the First and the blight goes waddling off in pursuit, leaving her malicious twin simmering in her wake.
--------From that stock-70's nightmare arrived a locale more befitting the portly parasite: an empty void that sunk down, down, down. Junier's gelatinous form fell through dark infinity, distance and duration indeterminable. Finally, a giant web sought to catch her fall, but her goat had already burned a hole right through, so whatever.
--------Junier instead strikes what is likely, probably, solid earth, cushioned by fat, rolling about like an overturned tortoise as her flabby limbs struggle for footing. Alas, exhausted (of writing, mainly), Junier curses the presence of normal gravity in this wacky world and resigns.
--------The mind of the wretched wheels with banalities collating lust and love and fire. Until today, she would have scoffed at these expressions of pathetic, wasteful emotion; until now, she'd believed it beyond her majesty. But she no longer has an option but to accept her fate: thoroughly, utterly, and undeniably smitten with one Hot Goat.
--------Her goat has gone all molten and magnificent, a masterpiece illuminated in a holy flame-cast glow. Lava veins run his bulging muscularity, down all four of his hairy legs. It will take a while to forget the way his unfocused square pupils caught the light, but even with just sockets, she could never call the "ascended" look a downgrade by any measure. Those horns, too. Junier hadn't recognized them until they started to erupt with fire, but now she can't look away. Even while the heat emitted by her beloved sears her eyes. Even when she plummets into filth unlike her own as the tentacle disparates -- by how far, it makes no difference; this realm refutes physics. Even when Junier lies there baking like the bits of cobbler she's incidentally broken off. She ogles, choking back laser tears, at the beauty before her, wishing, instead of that fire, she could have engulfed him in all her fullness...
--------The Hot Goat looks dejectedly at the remaining ash before moving to greener pastures.
----------But, oh no! Where is that foxy fellow trotting off to? A profusely-sweating Junier breaths heavily through her hanging mouth, and makes haste!
--------Flouncing from the oven, her goat galloping some distance ahead, the iridescence of the dance floor aggravates the "girl" near-immediately as a hallway with sterile walls expands into a flourishing club scene. The last thing she needs is a lapse in her self-pity. So while a beat rattles off in her head, Junier keeps her eyes on her prize.
--------A path of smoldered hoof prints crisscrosses from square to flashing square. The bloat licks her lips and bears down on a certain flaming ungulate--
BLARG
???
Halt, stranger!
Halt, stranger!
BLARG
Junier [ULTIMATE NUISANCE]
"yo but who dis pasty fool tho wif dis mad cock block boI IF YOU DONT MOVE
"yo but who dis pasty fool tho wif dis mad cock block boI IF YOU DONT MOVE
BLARG
???
You're looking at a bona fide Ambassador of the Court of the Great Tentacled One, ma'am! That's MacIntyre, yes-it-is. If I'm not mistaken, you're "Junier."
You're looking at a bona fide Ambassador of the Court of the Great Tentacled One, ma'am! That's MacIntyre, yes-it-is. If I'm not mistaken, you're "Junier."
BLARG
Junier [ULTIMATE NUISANCE]
fuck yahhh but how u kno me
fuck yahhh but how u kno me
BLARG
MacIntyre [AMBASSADOR]
I was requested by his Greatness to bring you a message.
I was requested by his Greatness to bring you a message.
BLARG
Junier [ULTIMATE NUISANCE]
k geddit
k geddit
BLARG
MacIntyre [AMBASSADOR]
I appreciate your compliance. Few else heeded this call. But Junier, Blight of Humanity and Ultimate Nuisance, the Great One wants you dead. You refuse to allow His sanctity into your life, and He tires of your insolence.
I appreciate your compliance. Few else heeded this call. But Junier, Blight of Humanity and Ultimate Nuisance, the Great One wants you dead. You refuse to allow His sanctity into your life, and He tires of your insolence.
BLARG
Junier [ULTIMATE NUISANCE]
ummmmmm ok, tell ur boi to pull up thennn SHIT im tryin to score ri now
ummmmmm ok, tell ur boi to pull up thennn SHIT im tryin to score ri now
BLARG
MacIntyre [AMBASSADOR]
It won't be an immediate demise, He said. Nor one performed directly by His Greatness. He has other skeptics to devour. I don't totally agree with the decision, if it helps.
It won't be an immediate demise, He said. Nor one performed directly by His Greatness. He has other skeptics to devour. I don't totally agree with the decision, if it helps.
BLARG
Junier [ULTIMATE NUISANCE]
LMAO he SCARED, whatchu u even want by STOPPIN me w/ dis, boi u aint even gotta faCE
LMAO he SCARED, whatchu u even want by STOPPIN me w/ dis, boi u aint even gotta faCE
BLARG
MacIntyre [AMBASSADOR]
His Greatness will contort everything and everyone within His realm. I suggest you shift priority to finding a way out before he cooks up a nastier scheme. In any case--
His Greatness will contort everything and everyone within His realm. I suggest you shift priority to finding a way out before he cooks up a nastier scheme. In any case--
BLARG
Junier [ULTIMATE NUISANCE]
man i am so sick of bein told whaddup, bitch i make my OWN rules, das my MAN over there
man i am so sick of bein told whaddup, bitch i make my OWN rules, das my MAN over there
--------Without warning, MacIntyre's body ceases up. His voice drones forth like an automated message. Amongst all the uncomfortably-advanced vocabulary, Junier manages to comprehend a challenge.
--------Spontaneously, again, the ambassador flies into a routine of hip thrusts and poses, a show of Saturday Night Fever that Junier discerns she is supposed to out-contend. Of course, the very thought makes her want to vomit. Moving around like that would probably make her vomit. Even with her exasperating absence of self-awareness, Junier admits she is fa too exhausted to dance. (That had to be the only reason.)
--------Wading there in filth and fluids, as MacIntyre dances circles around her, as the music swells in her head like a growing migraine, the scourge on humanity is flat-lining again, as in the oven, as with the tree. Envy and bitterness and inactivity; a lump builds in her throat, and her vision begins to blur. But then, amidst all the glitz, she sees smoke pluming from the horns of a warmly familiar face and understands she is not alone. The "eyes-meet-across-a-crowded-room" plays out. Junier, shielding her gaze, knows it to be true, that they have a connection; this is something real. And so she reaches to Hot Goat, from the depths of her rotten soul. Dearly beloved, lend me your power...
--------A burst of radiance expands and quells itself in an instance. Once engulfed, the blight remains, eyes flying open to reveal her pupils replaced with a harsh red light. Accessing her inner beast, Hot Goat's fire now resides inside Junier!
--------To the tune of His Greatness' ceaseless song, as MacIntyre dances on, the bloat grabs a mic and does him one better:
-- I COULD HAVE ALL YOUR FANS IF I WANTED TO
-- TIPTOP ROUND MY NAME, YOU LAME
-- LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN
-- BOARDS BE MECHANICAL LIKE MY LAST BITCH
-- PRIVATE DISCORD SERVER, DAS MY NEW BITCH
-- GOT A 4-POINT INFRACTION GOIN' HARD IN THIS BITCH
-- LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN
-- CALL ME CAPRICIOUS, DRINKIN' GOAT PISS, NO SHITS GIVEN
-- SAVED PAST-O-PAST AN' DUMPED ITS ASS, CALL ME TRUE VILLAIN
-- NO WRITIN' SKILL BUT CSS MAKIN' ME A KILLIN'
-- LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN
-- SIT YOUR PUNK ASS DOWN 'FORE YOU GET KICKED OFF THE D-C
-- CALL THE BOARDS COLD 'CAUSE YOUR ASS SUCK AT R-P
-- TRY TO STUNT HARD, BITCH WE LAUGHIN' AT YOUR SEL-FIE
-- LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN
--------It was then that Junier singlehandedly saved the game, forever sealing her legacy as The GOAT. -- TIPTOP ROUND MY NAME, YOU LAME
-- LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN
-- BOARDS BE MECHANICAL LIKE MY LAST BITCH
-- PRIVATE DISCORD SERVER, DAS MY NEW BITCH
-- GOT A 4-POINT INFRACTION GOIN' HARD IN THIS BITCH
-- LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN
-- CALL ME CAPRICIOUS, DRINKIN' GOAT PISS, NO SHITS GIVEN
-- SAVED PAST-O-PAST AN' DUMPED ITS ASS, CALL ME TRUE VILLAIN
-- NO WRITIN' SKILL BUT CSS MAKIN' ME A KILLIN'
-- LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN
-- SIT YOUR PUNK ASS DOWN 'FORE YOU GET KICKED OFF THE D-C
-- CALL THE BOARDS COLD 'CAUSE YOUR ASS SUCK AT R-P
-- TRY TO STUNT HARD, BITCH WE LAUGHIN' AT YOUR SEL-FIE
-- LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN
** Junier has received Hot Goat's LIT-ERACY in-exchange for LIMITED PERCEPTION. **
THERE'S BEEN A RIFT !!!
THERE'S BEEN A RIFT !!!
--------"Huh?" Junier watches with bewilderment as she arrives at a podium at the far side of the room. MacIntyre is there in a tux, and the two shake hands, before Junier slops over the top of the stand, her voice voluminous across, curiously, a crowd of disembodied pie chunks. The beat bestowed by His Greatness has been replaced for simulated applause.
--------The blight, different but the same, flashes a jaundiced grin in response to the enumeration, raising her Grammy high, then bellowing, "Clearly, I'm blessed by you-know-who to receive this award tonight. Truly, it's a honor--", but evidently not a humbling one as she elaborates,"--to be recognized for my talent by you all. There are just too many people I'd love to acknowledge, I wouldn't want to take too much of everyone's time to say anything other than how amazing it feels to have gotten so successful. Performing the Best Freestyle in History is one thing, but getting attention for it is the real accomplishment."
--------"Hold on!" The other unrecognized Junier bombards through the crowd. "Is this a 'Cadbury & Cadbury' thing or are you a sock puppet? 'cause this is surreal right now."
--------Junier the Second's face appears to fold in as she furrows her brow. "Seriously? You're gonna throw all your inside jokes out at once, huh? You know no one reads other peoples' posts, right? Who do you want to impress?"
--------"...those were jokes?" Junier the First is entirely unwitting.
--------"Idiot!" sneers her doppelgänger. "You lost the right for a coherent, non-self-effacing story, like, a few paragraphs ago. Start adapting faster."
--------Not appreciative of chastisement from herself, the First retorts in a bile-ridden roar, "Forget it, bitch, I don't care who you are. But you do not get to mack my bars. Hand over the Grammy, you fake--"
--------"Wassat? Can't hear you over my success!"
--------At least the First has fixated on some material reward, so there can be an end incentive to their bickering. Unfortunately, though, neither will back down without a victor, and even then there will inevitably be contention. But only one Junier can proceed. Hot Goat must understand this because he's already leaving.
--------"Hol' up, my mans' is off," announces Junier the First and the blight goes waddling off in pursuit, leaving her malicious twin simmering in her wake.
--------From that stock-70's nightmare arrived a locale more befitting the portly parasite: an empty void that sunk down, down, down. Junier's gelatinous form fell through dark infinity, distance and duration indeterminable. Finally, a giant web sought to catch her fall, but her goat had already burned a hole right through, so whatever.
--------Junier instead strikes what is likely, probably, solid earth, cushioned by fat, rolling about like an overturned tortoise as her flabby limbs struggle for footing. Alas, exhausted (of writing, mainly), Junier curses the presence of normal gravity in this wacky world and resigns.
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HyperMorian
Busy with University.
- 3,084
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- Age 24
- Entralink
- Seen May 10, 2021
"So I got a Poké Ball and 4 crystals in different colors." The boy thinks for a bit and promptly keeps the Poké Ball inside his pocket for later use. Curious by how the crystal works, yet also feeling familiar with it, he taps the blue crystal. A faint, resonating sound can be heard, and next... he is not sure with the full procedure.
"Double tap that sh!t, you filthy mongrel." A telepathic voice comes out of nowhere, instructing the boy on what to do. "Remember, your first try is free."
"Oh, right."
He does as told, on the blue crystal which also makes a sound effect coming from a gachapon game. A white object falls from above, imbued with energy taken from the blue crystal. He stands up and pulls out the trigger, shooting the bullet made out of micro-transaction orbs that practically screams 'free to play' to the wall.
The air lights up to create a circular bluish portal. Some loud yet intense music suddenly plays, and the boy simply stands watching the ongoing process while the tentacles are all waving. Smokes engulf the wall as a big, muscled hand comes out from the portal made by the gun he used. Next, he moves his legs to enter the domain, and then pops the brown mustache along with rest of his body, as well as the big axe he brought along, making a full appearance of a warrior from the past.
"Check out these arms! Bwaa! Yah!" The man introduces himself by flexing his muscles. The boy blinks startlingly, dropping the gun he took. He cannot comprehend the one he never expects to appear, out of all places he chose from the beginning. But either way, he is in dire need -- he needs his help.
"Excuse me, mister. Could you defeat those monsters for me?" He asks politely, pointing towards the tentacles waiting for them to make a move all this time. The warrior obliges and grabs his axe to fight while the boy stays standby on the back line, with the giant box cutter brandished at them.
"Double tap that sh!t, you filthy mongrel." A telepathic voice comes out of nowhere, instructing the boy on what to do. "Remember, your first try is free."
"Oh, right."
He does as told, on the blue crystal which also makes a sound effect coming from a gachapon game. A white object falls from above, imbued with energy taken from the blue crystal. He stands up and pulls out the trigger, shooting the bullet made out of micro-transaction orbs that practically screams 'free to play' to the wall.
The air lights up to create a circular bluish portal. Some loud yet intense music suddenly plays, and the boy simply stands watching the ongoing process while the tentacles are all waving. Smokes engulf the wall as a big, muscled hand comes out from the portal made by the gun he used. Next, he moves his legs to enter the domain, and then pops the brown mustache along with rest of his body, as well as the big axe he brought along, making a full appearance of a warrior from the past.
"Check out these arms! Bwaa! Yah!" The man introduces himself by flexing his muscles. The boy blinks startlingly, dropping the gun he took. He cannot comprehend the one he never expects to appear, out of all places he chose from the beginning. But either way, he is in dire need -- he needs his help.
"Excuse me, mister. Could you defeat those monsters for me?" He asks politely, pointing towards the tentacles waiting for them to make a move all this time. The warrior obliges and grabs his axe to fight while the boy stays standby on the back line, with the giant box cutter brandished at them.
Aeternum in his drunken stupor recalls two things about crystals. The first, is that every time a video game features them one or more characters hoard them for themselves and became super bosses. The second, was his days in college when the only crystals he was doing were... well... suffice to say, they would more often than not break him free of his drunkenness. Whichever way he looked at it, taking the crystals was a win and win scenario. Aeternum raised his gun and fired rapidly at the various crystals and then quickly rushed up to the ground beneath them and pressed his shnoz to the ground. With a mighty sniff, he sucked up all the crystal dust through his nose and slowly rose to his feet, inhaling through his one nostril the entire time. Before the crystals had begun to do whatever they intended to do to his body, he screamed out and spun around to face the numerous tentacles. With another mighty scream, he picked up the ball and launched it at one of the tentacles before placing his free hand against his dangly parts, spinning it around as he slowly approached the other tentacles while firing his gun in their general direction.
Junier
Fake Friends Forever (´･ω･`)
- 1,074
- Posts
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- Years
- Age 22
- Seen Dec 5, 2019
JUNIER is... just realizing she fell unconscious. The dirt is moist against her back, unless sweat has begun pooling from between her folds. The wench, meanwhile, is still rather pathetically smeared across the plain of this dominion. The walls of the well -- the GM demands she register it to be a well -- are a swallowing darkness.
--------Hot Goat bleats above her.
--------Inconsequential to the ethereal flame forever emanating from her companion, Junier's face goes warm. She's considering her compromising position.
--------"Well, I hope you're proud of yourself," she smirks, mainly at her own projected confidence, as the goat is yet again inscrutable. Regardless, the hag manages to hoist herself into as proper a posture her hulking form can handle by grabbing his horns. Unnecessarily, as he has no input in the matter, she thanks him.
--------Underfoot, the damp feeling becomes unmistakable, but Junier pays it little mind. She recognizes, as much as she's drunken in her beloved's beauty from afar, they'd never had a full conversation! Until now:
Junier:
Jeez, is it still hot in here, or am I really just that thirsty for you?
Hot Goat:
...
Junier:
I know this ain't a petting zoo, but how about a free ride?
Hot Goat:
...
Junier:
My sign may not be Capricorn, but, uh--
Hot Goat:
MMEHHH.
--------Shit; he's less than impressed.
--------At the vague spot where her waist might have been now sat a pool of risen green slime with a slicker viscosity than Junier may have suspected, if she had cared in the first place. After attaining the power of spontaneous combustion from her partner, the fact that the lava didn't resonate-- or at least it wouldn't if she weren't uncomfortably omnipresent now, so it just wasn't relevant. Just as fire can easily sustain more fire, Junier and Hot Goat bob afloat the super-heated substance as it continues upwards.
--------Back to the matter at hand: Junier asks a more pointed question in her typical abrasive style: "What hood you from, and why should I care?"
--------Hot Goat treads lava, considering, Junier thinks; it's a futile hope to have. The cry he gives is one of concern as the two are losing grounding quickly. With his coat of cooled magma, Hot Goat is having the hardest time saying afloat.
--------Meanwhile, Junier has reached an epiphany, one with sorry implications: there's a language barrier hanging between her and the hoofed mammal she loves. It's not a physical restraint, but Junier in all her mulishness would hate to settle for less, doesn't want to sully what could be much more than a smash and pass. They made a real breakthrough last post! Where had the passion gone? Hot Goat bleats in panic as she ponders.
--------Hot Goat bleats above her.
--------Inconsequential to the ethereal flame forever emanating from her companion, Junier's face goes warm. She's considering her compromising position.
--------"Well, I hope you're proud of yourself," she smirks, mainly at her own projected confidence, as the goat is yet again inscrutable. Regardless, the hag manages to hoist herself into as proper a posture her hulking form can handle by grabbing his horns. Unnecessarily, as he has no input in the matter, she thanks him.
--------Underfoot, the damp feeling becomes unmistakable, but Junier pays it little mind. She recognizes, as much as she's drunken in her beloved's beauty from afar, they'd never had a full conversation! Until now:
Junier:
Jeez, is it still hot in here, or am I really just that thirsty for you?
Hot Goat:
...
Junier:
I know this ain't a petting zoo, but how about a free ride?
Hot Goat:
...
Junier:
My sign may not be Capricorn, but, uh--
Hot Goat:
MMEHHH.
--------Shit; he's less than impressed.
--------At the vague spot where her waist might have been now sat a pool of risen green slime with a slicker viscosity than Junier may have suspected, if she had cared in the first place. After attaining the power of spontaneous combustion from her partner, the fact that the lava didn't resonate-- or at least it wouldn't if she weren't uncomfortably omnipresent now, so it just wasn't relevant. Just as fire can easily sustain more fire, Junier and Hot Goat bob afloat the super-heated substance as it continues upwards.
--------Back to the matter at hand: Junier asks a more pointed question in her typical abrasive style: "What hood you from, and why should I care?"
--------Hot Goat treads lava, considering, Junier thinks; it's a futile hope to have. The cry he gives is one of concern as the two are losing grounding quickly. With his coat of cooled magma, Hot Goat is having the hardest time saying afloat.
--------Meanwhile, Junier has reached an epiphany, one with sorry implications: there's a language barrier hanging between her and the hoofed mammal she loves. It's not a physical restraint, but Junier in all her mulishness would hate to settle for less, doesn't want to sully what could be much more than a smash and pass. They made a real breakthrough last post! Where had the passion gone? Hot Goat bleats in panic as she ponders.
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Damn, that was close. Looks like I was inspired enough to remember that I had two powers. Strange, it feels like I should have possessed this from the beginning. Maybe I could have saved Hannah- WHAT IS THAT NOISE- WHERE- HOW- HOLY-
Before Ihsaan could use his decoy ability to finally satisfy his depraved fantasies, he found a very familiar looking creature in front of him.
"S-Samuel? Is that you?" asked the battered brown boy bluntly.
"Hmm, you are of a form that is very recognizable to me! But I am not who you seek, my name is.. Samueru!" he said while brandishing 4 glowing rocks he probably got at the Goodwill bargain bin.
4 massive tentacles appeared, each corresponding to an element. Ihsaan, due to his familiarity with most played out fantasy tropes, realized that the glowing rocks were probably not just for show. Pulling the football out of his 'hiding spot' he activated his power to make it grow spikes all over it. Almost immediately, corresponding spikes appeared all over his arms, torso and legs. Aiming as well as he could, he launched the spiked football at the crystal. As soon as possible, he also created a decoy.
"GAAAAH. Man, this is disgusting," said Ihsaan, as he puked out a completely identical version of himself out spikes and all. Using his spikes, he cut its body parts off and began chucking his own spiked arms, torso and legs at the Bidoof, completely ignoring the tentacles.
I HOPE THIS WORKS I HOPE THIS WORKS REEEEEEEE
Before Ihsaan could use his decoy ability to finally satisfy his depraved fantasies, he found a very familiar looking creature in front of him.
"S-Samuel? Is that you?" asked the battered brown boy bluntly.
"Hmm, you are of a form that is very recognizable to me! But I am not who you seek, my name is.. Samueru!" he said while brandishing 4 glowing rocks he probably got at the Goodwill bargain bin.
4 massive tentacles appeared, each corresponding to an element. Ihsaan, due to his familiarity with most played out fantasy tropes, realized that the glowing rocks were probably not just for show. Pulling the football out of his 'hiding spot' he activated his power to make it grow spikes all over it. Almost immediately, corresponding spikes appeared all over his arms, torso and legs. Aiming as well as he could, he launched the spiked football at the crystal. As soon as possible, he also created a decoy.
"GAAAAH. Man, this is disgusting," said Ihsaan, as he puked out a completely identical version of himself out spikes and all. Using his spikes, he cut its body parts off and began chucking his own spiked arms, torso and legs at the Bidoof, completely ignoring the tentacles.
I HOPE THIS WORKS I HOPE THIS WORKS REEEEEEEE
metroid711
Thumbs up~
- 976
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- Age 22
- Arkansas
- Seen Oct 7, 2023
He looked at the 4 tentacles standing in the way of his goal. He glanced behind him at the 4 crystals and the pokeball. He grabbed the pokeball and poked at the green crystal. He put a hand out as a large cyclone of wind surrounded him and attacked the 4 tentacles. He looked at the pokeball in his hand and decided to open it in the eye of the storm.
Blarzigord
B͉̭̦͓̲̩̦L̘͉̺̩? ?͙A̖̬̜̞͇R̢ͅG̛̭? ?Ḫ̨̯̭͕̯̙̮A͞B̗? ?͍͇
- 49
- Posts
- 9
- Years
- Age 29
- Seen Nov 1, 2017
ACTIONS
Much to your surprise, the tornado actually enters the Pokeball! The swirling winds instantly disappear as they are captured by the device. You look around and see that all of the tentacles are defeated. Proud of your achievement, your turn around to boast to the elder bidoof - and notice that it's gone from its spot! It's running away from the dojo, and in its hands... Carl the squirrel! Furious, you decide to give chase, but the bidoof knows the dojo better than you. After a few twists and turns, you lose track of them.
You GOT ONE TORNADO TRAPPED IN A POKEBALL.
Blarzigord looks at Ihsaan's actions in this event, but decides not to read them because Ihsaan never bothered to read Erroru, Samueru's Qwilfish counterpart. Instead, he decides to turn Ihsaan's entire hair into spikes, and decides that whatever tactic he tried in this unread post would fail miserably.
Holy ****, are you high dude? The Pokeball you throw passes through the fire and cloud tentacles and hits the rock tentacle, capturing it and putting it out of commission. As you fire your gun to attack the other monsters, the wonderous powers gained by snorting the crystals begin to take effect. You feel more powerful, more midboss-y. So powerful that, the the action of twirling your ding-dong transforms it into a pelvis-powered rotor blade! You take to the skies and crash through the roof of the dojo, all the while firing down at your enemies. Bringing a whole new meaning to the helicopter.
You GOT ONE ROCK TENTACLE CAPTURED IN A POKEBALL.
Your WIENER CAN NOW BE USED AS A PROPELLER.
The mystery man absolutely decimates the tentacles, bidoof and the rest of the dojo actually, leaving nothing behind but a pile of rubble and elements. When he is finished, he looks around disappointedly. "Hm. Expected more grinding, to be honest. Oh hey, you're still here." he says, looking at you. "I see you're a F2P player, so I'll trade you this axe for your boxcutter. Yours has high rarity but low stats, so just hand it over and I'll sweeten the deal with a lootbox for a skin for the axe. Deal? Deal." Before you can say anything, the giant boxcutter in your hands is replaced with an incredibly heavy axe, along with one shiny-looking box containing overpriced bull****.
You LOST YOUR BOXCUTTER.
You GOT ONE LEVEL 0 AXE.
You GOT ONE POKEBALL.
You GOT ONE GOLDEN SKIN LOOTBOX.
Good god (read: blarzigord), you posted twice? With CSS? Blarzigord recognizes that you have some serious dedication, you obese child. That alone nets you a cookie. Anyway, enough fourth-wall breaking; as you escape the well successfully. However you and your beloved are now covered in hot and boiling slime,, similar to what the animal had hurled on you just a few events ago! And you know what that means. Right when you manage to get your arms free, the lava around your rotund legs dries up, forcing you to now hop for mobility until something or someone breaks this slime-cage of yours. You keep at it for a few hours, hopping happily alongside your goat, when suddenly... "Darling, please stop." You look around in confusion, wondering whose sexy british voice that was. "Yes, darling, it's me. The goat."
You GOT A COOKIE.
The bidoof is very angry that you took all four crystals for yourself. It decides to show this by destroying the crystals in your hand, leaving you vulnerable to the tentacles. These monsters in turn destroy your Pokeball, but you manage to escape by breaking down the dojo's door with your new strength. Kids these days, ugh.
Oh no. That was not a good idea, no sir. Making the mistake of picking up the crystal with your robot arm,
you successfully destroy the Ice tentacle but suddenly feel a tingling sensation in the robotic arm. After a few seconds of whizzing and popping, a message appears on your robot bicep: CRITICAL MALFUNCTION:
OVERHEATING. Before you can do anything, your robot arm and leg explode in a cloud of smoke, knocking you to the ground. You watch helplessly as the other tentacles get closer and prepare to strike. However,
a blast from the elder bidoof strikes them all down! You look up. It thanks you for only taking one item from its hand, unlike the greedy former visitors. Looking at your one-legged, one-armed self, it decides to help you. Snapping its fingers, the bidoof provides you with a spare leg.
You LOST YOUR BIONIC LIMBS. YOUR OTHER ROBOTIC ABILITIES ARE STILL FUNCTIONAL.
Your LOST LEG IS NOW A BIDOOF ATTACHED TO YOUR BODY.
EVENT VIII
B????????L???A????R??G????F????B????F??K??R??F????????G??????R???????
This is the greatest and best event in the world... tribute. Long time ago me and my son McIntyre here, we was hitchhikin' down, a long and lonesome road. All of a sudden, there shined a shiny demon, in the middle of the road. AND HE SAID!
"PLAY THE BEST SOOOONG IN THE WOOORLD, OR I'LL MAKE A JOURNEY RP"
Well me and McIntyre, we looked at each other, and we each said, "okay". And we knew that this was a Tenacious D reference, but we were pretty wasted from last night so we thought we were doing something from Initial D. Long story short, we played "Running in the 90s" to that demon punk and he said it was pretty dope. Turns out there's demon weebs out there.
Vermin, your quest to save your soul is growing closer to its end! You must now reenact this scenario! As you stroll through a long desert road at night, a demon appears before you. He asks for the best race in the world, and presents you with a car. Will you race him? Will you instead sing for him? Will you affirm that this scenario is a lie as demons don't exist and blarzigord is the only true evil?
This is the greatest and best event in the world... tribute. Long time ago me and my son McIntyre here, we was hitchhikin' down, a long and lonesome road. All of a sudden, there shined a shiny demon, in the middle of the road. AND HE SAID!
"PLAY THE BEST SOOOONG IN THE WOOORLD, OR I'LL MAKE A JOURNEY RP"
Well me and McIntyre, we looked at each other, and we each said, "okay". And we knew that this was a Tenacious D reference, but we were pretty wasted from last night so we thought we were doing something from Initial D. Long story short, we played "Running in the 90s" to that demon punk and he said it was pretty dope. Turns out there's demon weebs out there.
Vermin, your quest to save your soul is growing closer to its end! You must now reenact this scenario! As you stroll through a long desert road at night, a demon appears before you. He asks for the best race in the world, and presents you with a car. Will you race him? Will you instead sing for him? Will you affirm that this scenario is a lie as demons don't exist and blarzigord is the only true evil?
Aeternum stares dumbfounded at the demon as his manhood slowly ceased to spin. Somewhere deep in his mind he could recall the best song in the world, but at the moment he couldn't call it forth. Instead, he paid tribute by giving his wang a seriously power slap which caused it to roar back up into a ferocious spinning motion. The man so dearly wanted to make helicopter sounds with his mouth, but by never having actually been up close to one he couldn't particularly recall how they sounded. Aeternum slowly took to the sky and then gripped his wang between his thumb and forefinger, the act of which caused him to quickly plummet to the ground where the demon still stood still awaiting for a reply to his challenge.
Someone, somewhere has just learned how to perform an awe inspiring remix of the devil went down to Georgia and beelzeboss. With his mid boss level meta-gaming powers, aeternum hears the artist's desperate rendition and calls forth the mysterious powers which reside in the songs' combined lyrics before crashing into the demon below and covering him from head to toe like a half-cooked pancake.
Someone, somewhere has just learned how to perform an awe inspiring remix of the devil went down to Georgia and beelzeboss. With his mid boss level meta-gaming powers, aeternum hears the artist's desperate rendition and calls forth the mysterious powers which reside in the songs' combined lyrics before crashing into the demon below and covering him from head to toe like a half-cooked pancake.
- 1,660
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- Age 33
- Arizona, USA
- Seen yesterday
"Oy, vey ist mir!" Godzil cries as he stumbles from the dojo. "Brought low by my own avarice! The hubris, to think I could have it all! Now I am left with naught but chagrin!" He continues his lamentations as he walks on, until the skies grow dark and he finds himself walking down a long and lonesome highway, his path lit only by the moonlight.
But then, another light appears before him. A red demon, glowing with an inner light, stands in his path. It demands the best race in the world, and offers... A BRAND NEW CAR!
But Godzil is not swayed. "Nay, oh illuminating one! I've been offered gifts before, and they were not to be trusted! I refuse to be a part of this. I'm trying to think of a pun for this scenario, but all I can think of is to call you a racist. You know... because you want a race?"
But then, another light appears before him. A red demon, glowing with an inner light, stands in his path. It demands the best race in the world, and offers... A BRAND NEW CAR!
But Godzil is not swayed. "Nay, oh illuminating one! I've been offered gifts before, and they were not to be trusted! I refuse to be a part of this. I'm trying to think of a pun for this scenario, but all I can think of is to call you a racist. You know... because you want a race?"