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Relikai
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9477
Founded: Feb 11, 2014
Democratic Socialists

Postby Relikai » Wed Jun 08, 2016 4:39 pm

Just a heads up Miyuki's still here, basically chilling out in the clinic while her human throat adapts to its magical ability.
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Torsiedelle
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Posts: 18306
Founded: Dec 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Wed Jun 08, 2016 4:43 pm

Relikai wrote:Just a heads up Miyuki's still here, basically chilling out in the clinic while her human throat adapts to its magical ability.


Shit, right.

Why not have her follow along with Torii and Sterling?
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Relikai
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Founded: Feb 11, 2014
Democratic Socialists

Postby Relikai » Wed Jun 08, 2016 4:56 pm

Torsiedelle wrote:
Relikai wrote:Just a heads up Miyuki's still here, basically chilling out in the clinic while her human throat adapts to its magical ability.


Shit, right.

Why not have her follow along with Torii and Sterling?


Yep will do. Gotta settle work first -.- Just woke up haha
NationStates reveals to all the delusional fantasies of a certain people. All for fun, joy and laughter of course.

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Chedastan
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5626
Founded: Jul 25, 2013
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Chedastan » Wed Jun 08, 2016 6:21 pm

Still in my overnight ordintation, I'll respond sometime tomorrow night, as they have us until 5 tomorrow
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Tiltjuice
Post Czar
 
Posts: 33959
Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Tiltjuice » Wed Jun 08, 2016 8:30 pm

lol Cer and TNEL.

Nice, Min.

Soz, Pony crew. Busy IRL atm. Will try to post sometime this week.

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Northwest Slobovia
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Posts: 11976
Founded: Sep 16, 2006
Anarchy

Postby Northwest Slobovia » Thu Jun 09, 2016 7:39 pm

Swith Witherward wrote:IF you don't want in on the Xeno jungle thing, send your character through Alpha gate. This will free them up for the Building or for your own stories. Talk it out here so you all can open the gate and step through on your next post. :p There are tubs at the Gatehouse still, so they can take one to the village and rejoin the cast.

IF you want in on whatever odd story Cer has planned, have them brace themselves. His posting schedule is pretty slow, so the pace won't match stuff at the village or Building.

I face an IC vs OOC conflict here.

IC, there's no reason Sandy should leave the team to the tender mercies of large hairy (scaley) things in the jungle.

OOC, I've got things for him to do, places for him to be, and stories to run.

What I'd like to break the deadlock is a slowly-developing medical crisis that will provide an IC reason for Sandy to leave. I'm not sure what that should be, and it never needs to materialize, just loom on the horizon for long enough for Sandy to leave.
Gollum died for your sins.
Power is an equal-opportunity corrupter.

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Cerillium
Senior P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 12454
Founded: Oct 27, 2012
New York Times Democracy

Postby Cerillium » Thu Jun 09, 2016 8:00 pm

Northwest Slobovia wrote:
Swith Witherward wrote:IF you don't want in on the Xeno jungle thing, send your character through Alpha gate. This will free them up for the Building or for your own stories. Talk it out here so you all can open the gate and step through on your next post. :p There are tubs at the Gatehouse still, so they can take one to the village and rejoin the cast.

IF you want in on whatever odd story Cer has planned, have them brace themselves. His posting schedule is pretty slow, so the pace won't match stuff at the village or Building.

I face an IC vs OOC conflict here.

IC, there's no reason Sandy should leave the team to the tender mercies of large hairy (scaley) things in the jungle.

OOC, I've got things for him to do, places for him to be, and stories to run.

What I'd like to break the deadlock is a slowly-developing medical crisis that will provide an IC reason for Sandy to leave. I'm not sure what that should be, and it never needs to materialize, just loom on the horizon for long enough for Sandy to leave.

I'll make it easy on everyone: won't be much of an adventure in the jungle. I've been sternly reminded of my 2014 promise to get IAPA off the ground for the summer. Failure do to so will result in Swith morphing into Segata Sanshiro and kicking my ass: "You must play IAPA! You must play IAPA!"
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith
There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears, and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination.

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Northwest Slobovia
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Founded: Sep 16, 2006
Anarchy

Postby Northwest Slobovia » Thu Jun 09, 2016 8:07 pm

Cerillium wrote:I'll make it easy on everyone: won't be much of an adventure in the jungle. I've been sternly reminded of my 2014 promise to get IAPA off the ground for the summer. Failure do to so will result in Swith morphing into Segata Sanshiro and kicking my ass: "You must play IAPA! You must play IAPA!"

Oh, OK: Sandy will take the red pill and see how shallow the fanged-rabbit hole is. :P
Gollum died for your sins.
Power is an equal-opportunity corrupter.

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Giovenith
Senior P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 19628
Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Thu Jun 09, 2016 9:11 pm

Will have Groundtown reply up tomorrow. Sorry for the wait.
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Altito Asmoro
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Founded: May 18, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Altito Asmoro » Thu Jun 09, 2016 9:19 pm

Chedastan wrote:OPERATION: HARKER
DIMENSION: 134A
LOCATION: EARTH
TEAMS: DELTA, TANGO




He was concerned about Harker insisting to stay though, but he could respect the reason explained. "Don't worry Minerva, I'm not abandoning you yet." He then called over to her to confirmed from the cargo bay.


I was about to worried that one of them or at least one of them (Either one of you who involved in the operation )would be angry at Harker for trying to stay, even with the reason explained.
Last edited by Altito Asmoro on Thu Jun 09, 2016 9:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Altito Asmoro wrote:You people can call me...AA. Or Alt.
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I'm calling you "non-aligned comrade."

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Tiltjuice
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Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Tiltjuice » Thu Jun 09, 2016 10:11 pm

Giovenith wrote:Will have Groundtown reply up tomorrow. Sorry for the wait.


Will reply tomorrow then, beforehand. Ditto.

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Chedastan
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5626
Founded: Jul 25, 2013
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Chedastan » Fri Jun 10, 2016 9:20 am

Altito Asmoro wrote:I was about to worried that one of them or at least one of them (Either one of you who involved in the operation )would be angry at Harker for trying to stay, even with the reason explained.

Oh yeah that, I guess the story has to go where it feels like going somehow. :P
adhouse
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Tiltjuice
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Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Tiltjuice » Fri Jun 10, 2016 4:15 pm

Tiltjuice wrote:
Giovenith wrote:Will have Groundtown reply up tomorrow. Sorry for the wait.


Will reply tomorrow then, beforehand. Ditto.


Posting after I get some food. Haven't eaten all day.

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Altito Asmoro
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Founded: May 18, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Altito Asmoro » Fri Jun 10, 2016 4:51 pm

Chedastan wrote:
Altito Asmoro wrote:I was about to worried that one of them or at least one of them (Either one of you who involved in the operation )would be angry at Harker for trying to stay, even with the reason explained.

Oh yeah that, I guess the story has to go where it feels like going somehow. :P


Yeah, right. :p
Stormwrath wrote:
Altito Asmoro wrote:You people can call me...AA. Or Alt.
Or Tito.

I'm calling you "non-aligned comrade."

A proud Nationalist
Winner for Best War RP of 2016

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Ganonsyoni
Diplomat
 
Posts: 540
Founded: May 01, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Ganonsyoni » Fri Jun 10, 2016 8:47 pm

I'm gonna be gone for the weekend. Comicon in my city. Gonna be busy hanging with friends there and having fun. I'll be back monday. Gonna try to get a post up that day.
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Cerillium
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Founded: Oct 27, 2012
New York Times Democracy

Postby Cerillium » Sat Jun 11, 2016 5:24 pm

No problem, Carly. Thanks for the heads-up.

IC post from me tomorrow (Sunday).
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith
There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears, and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination.

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Cerillium
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Posts: 12454
Founded: Oct 27, 2012
New York Times Democracy

Postby Cerillium » Sun Jun 12, 2016 7:00 pm

My mission post is delayed

The Fennec is busy. Busy, busy Fennec. She thinks she can grill. The Fennec is abusing beef. You think I jest? No. No, dear PL family, I do not.

The thing with Fennecs is that they have runty forelegs. How they scratch their own butts is beyond me. And Fennecs have tits. They cover their tits with new teeshirts bearing Sanders logos. Rather than take the shirt off and put on something suitable, this Fennec insists on putting all the meat at the very front of the grill in order to keep her tits from burning while she uses her runty arms to flip things. Flip, Fennec, flip with those runty, runty arms.

The Fennec doesn't understand why the front of the grill doesn't grill as good as the back of the grill. She compensates by turning the flame all the way up to high. The grill takes on a fresh glow. The International Space Stations reports odd flickering coming from our state.

Burn, Fennec, burn the meat with your stunted grill knowledge and vorpal flame. Flip and burn, and burn and flip. That's prime rib. Glorious prime rib, O! I lament your sizzling cries as the juice evaporates from you. Woe, is me, woe, that I should eat shoe leather thanks to Fennecs and Sanders. Damn you, Sanders. Damn you for bearing tit-covering logos on your shirts.

I need a beer. No, I need two.

"Don't you kill my Minerva," the Fennec croons as she slides her sacrifice to Satan onto my plate. The salad beside it snickers and winks at me as if to say We look more tasty, don't we?

I do not want to kill her stupid character. I only want my prime rib to be edible. Breathe, damn you! But this is futile. It will never moo again.

The murderess returns. "Okay, I'm done cooking. I'll be back later. Need anything from the store?"

Cooking? Is that what you call it? The fuck, Fennec? I'm waiting for the leather to cool so I can smack it with a hammer and pour the ash into my beer. A man needs his steak in one form or another. Come Fennec. Look at my ash-beer. Smoke curls from it. I can taste Cthulhu with my eyes. Go away, Fennec. Go away.

And off she went to see her new baby cousin.

I do not know what to write for Minerva. In my famished state, I neglected to ask What comes next for your pilot and the high altitude. I'm stalled. Two hours have passed. Nothing.

So it may turn into a collab for Delta and Tango, if players don't mind?

Will post reply to Pony and Giovenith shorly. Need to hunt down Agy to wrap up that story as well.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith
There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears, and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination.

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Giovenith
Senior P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 19628
Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Sun Jun 12, 2016 7:04 pm

Cerillium wrote:My mission post is delayed

The Fennec is busy. Busy, busy Fennec. She thinks she can grill. The Fennec is abusing beef. You think I jest? No. No, dear PL family, I do not.

The thing with Fennecs is that they have runty forelegs. How they scratch their own butts is beyond me. And Fennecs have tits. They cover their tits with new teeshirts bearing Sanders logos. Rather than take the shirt off and put on something suitable, this Fennec insists on putting all the meat at the very front of the grill in order to keep her tits from burning while she uses her runty arms to flip things. Flip, Fennec, flip with those runty, runty arms.

The Fennec doesn't understand why the front of the grill doesn't grill as good as the back of the grill. She compensates by turning the flame all the way up to high. The grill takes on a fresh glow. The International Space Stations reports odd flickering coming from our state.

Burn, Fennec, burn the meat with your stunted grill knowledge and vorpal flame. Flip and burn, and burn and flip. That's prime rib. Glorious prime rib, O! I lament your sizzling cries as the juice evaporates from you. Woe, is me, woe, that I should eat shoe leather thanks to Fennecs and Sanders. Damn you, Sanders. Damn you for bearing tit-covering logos on your shirts.

I need a beer. No, I need two.

"Don't you kill my Minerva," the Fennec croons as she slides her sacrifice to Satan onto my plate. The salad beside it snickers and winks at me as if to say We look more tasty, don't we?

I do not want to kill her stupid character. I only want my prime rib to be edible. Breathe, damn you! But this is futile. It will never moo again.

The murderess returns. "Okay, I'm done cooking. I'll be back later. Need anything from the store?"

Cooking? Is that what you call it? The fuck, Fennec? I'm waiting for the leather to cool so I can smack it with a hammer and pour the ash into my beer. A man needs his steak in one form or another. Come Fennec. Look at my ash-beer. Smoke curls from it. I can taste Cthulhu with my eyes. Go away, Fennec. Go away.

And off she went to see her new baby cousin.

I do not know what to write for Minerva. In my famished state, I neglected to ask What comes next for your pilot and the high altitude. I'm stalled. Two hours have passed. Nothing.


Sometimes I just stop, sit back, and try to carefully retrace my steps as to how in god's name I got myself into circumstances where something like that would actually make sense to me.
Senior P2TM Mentor & Ordained Minister of the ULC
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Northwest Slobovia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 11976
Founded: Sep 16, 2006
Anarchy

Postby Northwest Slobovia » Sun Jun 12, 2016 7:11 pm

Cerillium wrote:My mission post is delayed

The Fennec is busy. Busy, busy Fennec. She thinks she can grill. The Fennec is abusing beef. You think I jest? No. No, dear PL family, I do not.

The thing with Fennecs is that they have runty forelegs. How they scratch their own butts is beyond me. And Fennecs have tits. They cover their tits with new teeshirts bearing Sanders logos. Rather than take the shirt off and put on something suitable, this Fennec insists on putting all the meat at the very front of the grill in order to keep her tits from burning while she uses her runty arms to flip things. Flip, Fennec, flip with those runty, runty arms.

The Fennec doesn't understand why the front of the grill doesn't grill as good as the back of the grill. She compensates by turning the flame all the way up to high. The grill takes on a fresh glow. The International Space Stations reports odd flickering coming from our state.

Burn, Fennec, burn the meat with your stunted grill knowledge and vorpal flame. Flip and burn, and burn and flip. That's prime rib. Glorious prime rib, O! I lament your sizzling cries as the juice evaporates from you. Woe, is me, woe, that I should eat shoe leather thanks to Fennecs and Sanders. Damn you, Sanders. Damn you for bearing tit-covering logos on your shirts.

I need a beer. No, I need two.

"Don't you kill my Minerva," the Fennec croons as she slides her sacrifice to Satan onto my plate. The salad beside it snickers and winks at me as if to say We look more tasty, don't we?

I do not want to kill her stupid character. I only want my prime rib to be edible. Breathe, damn you! But this is futile. It will never moo again.

The murderess returns. "Okay, I'm done cooking. I'll be back later. Need anything from the store?"

Cooking? Is that what you call it? The fuck, Fennec? I'm waiting for the leather to cool so I can smack it with a hammer and pour the ash into my beer. A man needs his steak in one form or another. Come Fennec. Look at my ash-beer. Smoke curls from it. I can taste Cthulhu with my eyes. Go away, Fennec. Go away.

And off she went to see her new baby cousin.

I do not know what to write for Minerva. In my famished state, I neglected to ask What comes next for your pilot and the high altitude. I'm stalled. Two hours have passed. Nothing.

:lol:

Cerillium wrote:So it may turn into a collab for Delta and Tango, if players don't mind?

Go ahead.
Last edited by Northwest Slobovia on Mon Jun 13, 2016 2:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Gollum died for your sins.
Power is an equal-opportunity corrupter.

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Chedastan
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5626
Founded: Jul 25, 2013
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Chedastan » Sun Jun 12, 2016 7:18 pm

Cerillium wrote:My mission post is delayed

The Fennec is busy. Busy, busy Fennec. She thinks she can grill. The Fennec is abusing beef. You think I jest? No. No, dear PL family, I do not.

The thing with Fennecs is that they have runty forelegs. How they scratch their own butts is beyond me. And Fennecs have tits. They cover their tits with new teeshirts bearing Sanders logos. Rather than take the shirt off and put on something suitable, this Fennec insists on putting all the meat at the very front of the grill in order to keep her tits from burning while she uses her runty arms to flip things. Flip, Fennec, flip with those runty, runty arms.

The Fennec doesn't understand why the front of the grill doesn't grill as good as the back of the grill. She compensates by turning the flame all the way up to high. The grill takes on a fresh glow. The International Space Stations reports odd flickering coming from our state.

Burn, Fennec, burn the meat with your stunted grill knowledge and vorpal flame. Flip and burn, and burn and flip. That's prime rib. Glorious prime rib, O! I lament your sizzling cries as the juice evaporates from you. Woe, is me, woe, that I should eat shoe leather thanks to Fennecs and Sanders. Damn you, Sanders. Damn you for bearing tit-covering logos on your shirts.

I need a beer. No, I need two.

"Don't you kill my Minerva," the Fennec croons as she slides her sacrifice to Satan onto my plate. The salad beside it snickers and winks at me as if to say We look more tasty, don't we?

I do not want to kill her stupid character. I only want my prime rib to be edible. Breathe, damn you! But this is futile. It will never moo again.

The murderess returns. "Okay, I'm done cooking. I'll be back later. Need anything from the store?"

Cooking? Is that what you call it? The fuck, Fennec? I'm waiting for the leather to cool so I can smack it with a hammer and pour the ash into my beer. A man needs his steak in one form or another. Come Fennec. Look at my ash-beer. Smoke curls from it. I can taste Cthulhu with my eyes. Go away, Fennec. Go away.

And off she went to see her new baby cousin.

I do not know what to write for Minerva. In my famished state, I neglected to ask What comes next for your pilot and the high altitude. I'm stalled. Two hours have passed. Nothing.

So it may turn into a collab for Delta and Tango, if players don't mind?

Will post reply to Pony and Giovenith shorly. Need to hunt down Agy to wrap up that story as well.


That was nice to read, thanks Cer. :P

And yeah I don't mind doing another collab if we have to.
adhouse
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Tiltjuice
Post Czar
 
Posts: 33959
Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Tiltjuice » Sun Jun 12, 2016 7:32 pm

Cerillium wrote:My mission post is delayed

The Fennec is busy. Busy, busy Fennec. She thinks she can grill. The Fennec is abusing beef. You think I jest? No. No, dear PL family, I do not.

The thing with Fennecs is that they have runty forelegs. How they scratch their own butts is beyond me. And Fennecs have tits. They cover their tits with new teeshirts bearing Sanders logos. Rather than take the shirt off and put on something suitable, this Fennec insists on putting all the meat at the very front of the grill in order to keep her tits from burning while she uses her runty arms to flip things. Flip, Fennec, flip with those runty, runty arms.

The Fennec doesn't understand why the front of the grill doesn't grill as good as the back of the grill. She compensates by turning the flame all the way up to high. The grill takes on a fresh glow. The International Space Stations reports odd flickering coming from our state.

Burn, Fennec, burn the meat with your stunted grill knowledge and vorpal flame. Flip and burn, and burn and flip. That's prime rib. Glorious prime rib, O! I lament your sizzling cries as the juice evaporates from you. Woe, is me, woe, that I should eat shoe leather thanks to Fennecs and Sanders. Damn you, Sanders. Damn you for bearing tit-covering logos on your shirts.

I need a beer. No, I need two.

"Don't you kill my Minerva," the Fennec croons as she slides her sacrifice to Satan onto my plate. The salad beside it snickers and winks at me as if to say We look more tasty, don't we?

I do not want to kill her stupid character. I only want my prime rib to be edible. Breathe, damn you! But this is futile. It will never moo again.

The murderess returns. "Okay, I'm done cooking. I'll be back later. Need anything from the store?"

Cooking? Is that what you call it? The fuck, Fennec? I'm waiting for the leather to cool so I can smack it with a hammer and pour the ash into my beer. A man needs his steak in one form or another. Come Fennec. Look at my ash-beer. Smoke curls from it. I can taste Cthulhu with my eyes. Go away, Fennec. Go away.

And off she went to see her new baby cousin.

I do not know what to write for Minerva. In my famished state, I neglected to ask What comes next for your pilot and the high altitude. I'm stalled. Two hours have passed. Nothing.

So it may turn into a collab for Delta and Tango, if players don't mind?

Will post reply to Pony and Giovenith shorly. Need to hunt down Agy to wrap up that story as well.


:P

Add some glazed walnuts.

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Altito Asmoro
Post Czar
 
Posts: 33371
Founded: May 18, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Altito Asmoro » Sun Jun 12, 2016 7:33 pm

Cerillium wrote:My mission post is delayed

The Fennec is busy. Busy, busy Fennec. She thinks she can grill. The Fennec is abusing beef. You think I jest? No. No, dear PL family, I do not.

The thing with Fennecs is that they have runty forelegs. How they scratch their own butts is beyond me. And Fennecs have tits. They cover their tits with new teeshirts bearing Sanders logos. Rather than take the shirt off and put on something suitable, this Fennec insists on putting all the meat at the very front of the grill in order to keep her tits from burning while she uses her runty arms to flip things. Flip, Fennec, flip with those runty, runty arms.

The Fennec doesn't understand why the front of the grill doesn't grill as good as the back of the grill. She compensates by turning the flame all the way up to high. The grill takes on a fresh glow. The International Space Stations reports odd flickering coming from our state.

Burn, Fennec, burn the meat with your stunted grill knowledge and vorpal flame. Flip and burn, and burn and flip. That's prime rib. Glorious prime rib, O! I lament your sizzling cries as the juice evaporates from you. Woe, is me, woe, that I should eat shoe leather thanks to Fennecs and Sanders. Damn you, Sanders. Damn you for bearing tit-covering logos on your shirts.

I need a beer. No, I need two.

"Don't you kill my Minerva," the Fennec croons as she slides her sacrifice to Satan onto my plate. The salad beside it snickers and winks at me as if to say We look more tasty, don't we?

I do not want to kill her stupid character. I only want my prime rib to be edible. Breathe, damn you! But this is futile. It will never moo again.

The murderess returns. "Okay, I'm done cooking. I'll be back later. Need anything from the store?"

Cooking? Is that what you call it? The fuck, Fennec? I'm waiting for the leather to cool so I can smack it with a hammer and pour the ash into my beer. A man needs his steak in one form or another. Come Fennec. Look at my ash-beer. Smoke curls from it. I can taste Cthulhu with my eyes. Go away, Fennec. Go away.

And off she went to see her new baby cousin.

I do not know what to write for Minerva. In my famished state, I neglected to ask What comes next for your pilot and the high altitude. I'm stalled. Two hours have passed. Nothing.

So it may turn into a collab for Delta and Tango, if players don't mind?

Will post reply to Pony and Giovenith shorly. Need to hunt down Agy to wrap up that story as well.


Yep, sure.
Stormwrath wrote:
Altito Asmoro wrote:You people can call me...AA. Or Alt.
Or Tito.

I'm calling you "non-aligned comrade."

A proud Nationalist
Winner for Best War RP of 2016

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Torsiedelle
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 18306
Founded: Dec 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Mon Jun 13, 2016 4:33 pm

Hey, Swith, Cer, isn't most of Chaos and the technopriests in PL more or less bastardized/adapted 40K and not canon 40K? Asking for a reference.
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Ganonsyoni
Diplomat
 
Posts: 540
Founded: May 01, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Ganonsyoni » Mon Jun 13, 2016 5:49 pm

I didn't wake up good at all today. Slept too much and now I feel tired... No post tonight, sorry. Hopefully I wake up better and fresher tomorrow.

Also, would like to discuss running a gate adventure on the IRC with an Op/Co-Op. Tomorrow evening or any evening afterward I'm open.
New and Improved version of "The Carlisle"
MtF transperson, goes by she/her/hers
Call me Carly

“That rifle on the wall of the labourer's cottage or working class flat is the symbol of democracy. It is our job to see that it stays there.” - Orwell

"I'm a god damn Sage"

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Fvaarniimar
Minister
 
Posts: 3125
Founded: Nov 20, 2013
Mother Knows Best State

Postby Fvaarniimar » Tue Jun 14, 2016 1:40 pm

Hi, guys! Finally managed to plost. Sorry for the delay.
Blame this critter. :p
Come to the light side.  We have teamwork, waffles, popcorn, grape juice, and way too much ramen.
_->>
Tech Timeline
Alt:Fggwyyliieimn
Also controls:Borksmiclen
1.I'm a cis female.
2.(PL only)If I type"Nick touches your character and does <this>",he is communicating. If your character has nerve endings in the spot being touched,they'll get the message.Otherwise/if neither bare skin nor explanation given,TG me;something else may come into play.

I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
adhouse

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