PL: The EPIC OOC - closed thread

[Monfrox]

So my lip has been bleeding non-stop for the past hour...

[Swith Witherward]

Best PL line evah: Yes a Phylactery is...tupperware for the soul.

One-shot!

"Welcome, everyone," Baron Primordial's robes whispered in their usual sinister fashion as he glided to the front of the room. "I'm so glad you all came."

It wasn't certain if anyone else was glad they had come. They thought it was a Resident Meeting, and so they had gone to the dining room - but it was quickly apparent that ol' Primordial had been redecorating for his party. Minerva's eyes took in the blood-soaked ribbons festooning the chairs and the dreadful, putrid-green paper tablecloths covering nearly everything else in the drearily lit room. Insidious sat primly beside a sideboard laden with typical Luxan hors-d'oeuvres: crackers smeared with eye jelly, chips piled high to dip in brain pate, and little cupcakes decorated with tentacle monsters. But it was the very front of the room that captured the cultist leader's attention. Primordial stepped behind a table there, and spread his hands wide to draw attention to the wares spread across it.

"This is Tupperware for the soul," his broad smile and cruel wheeze did nothing to reassure Minerva or the other Residents, "the airtight plastic containers that keep souls fresher longer!"

The Residents shifted uneasily but, being polite, took their seats and folded their hands neatly in their laps. One really didn't know when they'd need something to keep their soul fresh, and the change in local had everyone on edge and thinking about their own mortality. Perhaps soul-preserving plastic would be helpful?

Primordial didn't wait for them to fidget. He got straight to it and lifted a puce-colored container from the table. "Here's how it's done. First, put in the soul," his smile widened as he prized off the tip. A loud woosh blasted the Residents back, and a soft thud indicated that the Baron had opted to borrow Bran's for the demonstration. The poor former conscript fell over dead.

"Put on the patented Tupperware seal," he continued his demonstration without missing a beat, "then press down the center of the seal and lift it to one side."

An agonizing scream erupted from the container.

"Hear that whisper? That's Tupperware's airtight promise to keep souls flavor-fresh." Primordial's smile nearly took his ears now. He tossed the container onto the table. "Tupperware comes in all shapes and in all sizes, and doesn't open if abused. You can freeze it" -a wave of his hand and frost crept over the puce surface. He lifted it and set it atop another container- "You can stack it and turn it any which way - it won't spill! Tupperware keeps souls in. And" -he lifted the thing for all to view- "because you can see inside, no more forgotten leftovers! Just good, fresh vitae."

A miniature Bran uselessly pounded his fists against the puce plastic.

"And, if you should order some today," Primordial continued, "Tupperware will give a free spirit-baller as a gift. No more messy soul plucking. You can use it to scoop out even the most stubborn souls! Now, how many can I put you down for?"

Uneasy murmuring rippled through the room. Nobody raised their hands. They still had closets filled with nightmarish shit from Insidious' last Avon party.

[The BranRiech]

Best PL line evah: Yes a Phylactery is...tupperware for the soul.

One-shot!

"Welcome, everyone," Baron Primordial's robes whispered in their usual sinister fashion as he glided to the front of the room. "I'm so glad you all came."

It wasn't certain if anyone else was glad they had come. They thought it was a Resident Meeting, and so they had gone to the dining room - but it was quickly apparent that ol' Primordial had been redecorating for his party. Minerva's eyes took in the blood-soaked ribbons festooning the chairs and the dreadful, putrid-green paper tablecloths covering nearly everything else in the drearily lit room. Insidious sat primly beside a sideboard laden with typical Luxan hors-d'oeuvres: crackers smeared with eye jelly, chips piled high to dip in brain pate, and little cupcakes decorated with tentacle monsters. But it was the very front of the room that captured the cultist leader's attention. Primordial stepped behind a table there, and spread his hands wide to draw attention to the wares spread across it.

"This is Tupperware for the soul," his broad smile and cruel wheeze did nothing to reassure Minerva or the other Residents, "the airtight plastic containers that keep souls fresher longer!"

The Residents shifted uneasily but, being polite, took their seats and folded their hands neatly in their laps. One really didn't know when they'd need something to keep their soul fresh, and the change in local had everyone on edge and thinking about their own mortality. Perhaps soul-preserving plastic would be helpful?

Primordial didn't wait for them to fidget. He got straight to it and lifted a puce-colored container from the table. "Here's how it's done. First, put in the soul," his smile widened as he prized off the tip. A loud woosh blasted the Residents back, and a soft thud indicated that the Baron had opted to borrow Bran's for the demonstration. The poor former conscript fell over dead.

"Put on the patented Tupperware seal," he continued his demonstration without missing a beat, "then press down the center of the seal and lift it to one side."

An agonizing scream erupted from the container.

"Hear that whisper? That's Tupperware's airtight promise to keep souls flavor-fresh." Primordial's smile nearly took his ears now. He tossed the container onto the table. "Tupperware comes in all shapes and in all sizes, and doesn't open if abused. You can freeze it" -a wave of his hand and frost crept over the puce surface. He lifted it and set it atop another container- "You can stack it and turn it any which way - it won't spill! Tupperware keeps souls in. And" -he lifted the thing for all to view- "because you can see inside, no more forgotten leftovers! Just good, fresh vitae."

A miniature Bran uselessly pounded his fists against the puce plastic.

"And, if you should order some today," Primordial continued, "Tupperware will give a free spirit-baller as a gift. No more messy soul plucking. You can use it to scoop out even the most stubborn souls! Now, how many can I put you down for?"

Uneasy murmuring rippled through the room. Nobody raised their hands. They still had closets filled with nightmarish shit from Insidious' last Avon party.

If Bran ever has to die, can it please be like that?

[Monfrox]

And it was after that, that Brit packed up her shit and moved the fuck out to parts unknown...

[Giovenith]

Sorry for long wait guys, been dealing with a lot. I promise that for make-up, next post will be good long stuff.

[Swith Witherward]

Sorry for long wait guys, been dealing with a lot. I promise that for make-up, next post will be good long stuff.

No worries, Gio. It's been a nice, slow week IC.

[Monfrox]

Sorry for long wait guys, been dealing with a lot. I promise that for make-up, next post will be good long stuff.

It's okay. We still love you.

[Primordial Luxa]

Best PL line evah: Yes a Phylactery is...tupperware for the soul.

One-shot!

"Welcome, everyone," Baron Primordial's robes whispered in their usual sinister fashion as he glided to the front of the room. "I'm so glad you all came."

It wasn't certain if anyone else was glad they had come. They thought it was a Resident Meeting, and so they had gone to the dining room - but it was quickly apparent that ol' Primordial had been redecorating for his party. Minerva's eyes took in the blood-soaked ribbons festooning the chairs and the dreadful, putrid-green paper tablecloths covering nearly everything else in the drearily lit room. Insidious sat primly beside a sideboard laden with typical Luxan hors-d'oeuvres: crackers smeared with eye jelly, chips piled high to dip in brain pate, and little cupcakes decorated with tentacle monsters. But it was the very front of the room that captured the cultist leader's attention. Primordial stepped behind a table there, and spread his hands wide to draw attention to the wares spread across it.

"This is Tupperware for the soul," his broad smile and cruel wheeze did nothing to reassure Minerva or the other Residents, "the airtight plastic containers that keep souls fresher longer!"

The Residents shifted uneasily but, being polite, took their seats and folded their hands neatly in their laps. One really didn't know when they'd need something to keep their soul fresh, and the change in local had everyone on edge and thinking about their own mortality. Perhaps soul-preserving plastic would be helpful?

Primordial didn't wait for them to fidget. He got straight to it and lifted a puce-colored container from the table. "Here's how it's done. First, put in the soul," his smile widened as he prized off the tip. A loud woosh blasted the Residents back, and a soft thud indicated that the Baron had opted to borrow Bran's for the demonstration. The poor former conscript fell over dead.

"Put on the patented Tupperware seal," he continued his demonstration without missing a beat, "then press down the center of the seal and lift it to one side."

An agonizing scream erupted from the container.

"Hear that whisper? That's Tupperware's airtight promise to keep souls flavor-fresh." Primordial's smile nearly took his ears now. He tossed the container onto the table. "Tupperware comes in all shapes and in all sizes, and doesn't open if abused. You can freeze it" -a wave of his hand and frost crept over the puce surface. He lifted it and set it atop another container- "You can stack it and turn it any which way - it won't spill! Tupperware keeps souls in. And" -he lifted the thing for all to view- "because you can see inside, no more forgotten leftovers! Just good, fresh vitae."

A miniature Bran uselessly pounded his fists against the puce plastic.

"And, if you should order some today," Primordial continued, "Tupperware will give a free spirit-baller as a gift. No more messy soul plucking. You can use it to scoop out even the most stubborn souls! Now, how many can I put you down for?"

Uneasy murmuring rippled through the room. Nobody raised their hands. They still had closets filled with nightmarish shit from Insidious' last Avon party.

Wonderful Swith simply fantastic.

[Swith Witherward]

Wonderful Swith simply fantastic.

I got a case of the giggles when I read that one line in the IC.

[Highfort]

Apologies for no PLost. I have research to work on for Thursday so I may or may not post tomorrow. I'll do my best.

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

I... might have to take some more time off. I've been doxed by some assholes, need some time to unstress myself yet again.

[Germanic Templars]

I... might have to take some more time off. I've been doxed by some assholes, need some time to unstress myself yet again.

Oww... Well, hope it goes well.

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

I... might have to take some more time off. I've been doxed by some assholes, need some time to unstress myself yet again.

Oww... Well, hope it goes well.

Yeah, with any luck someone will actually respond. Won't hold my breath for it.

[Germanic Templars]

Oww... Well, hope it goes well.

Yeah, with any luck someone will actually respond. Won't hold my breath for it.

Hold your breath, they respond faster when ya do.

In seriousness, it will go well since stuff like that can be damaging.

[The BranRiech]

Is there still the group in the rec room, or did they move back to the dining room?

[New Aksarben]

Is there still the group in the rec room, or did they move back to the dining room?

still in the rec room, we're discussing plans for what to do and varg's nature.

[Monfrox]

Prim's doing recruiting again...

[New Aksarben]

He might have gotten into the video game making business too

That games one of the creepiest thigns I've seen in a while.

[Primordial Luxa]

Prim's doing recruiting again...

(Image)

This has been all over social media the last week. Facebook, twitter, tumblr, ect...
I'm actually starting to think its something bigger based on how much i'm seeing it.

[Swith Witherward]

[Mincaldenteans]

(Image)

AWWWW THAT IS TOO CUUUUTE!

TY!

[Cerillium]

It's your birthday, Min?

So embrace your inner diva while you still can!



Stay classy. Stay fabulous.

[Cerillium]

Looks like we're waiting on Romy and any last minute q's in the dining room. Let's conclude so we can launch tomorrow night. I've borrowed Minerva to end the meeting, and used Marcus to prompt the rest to wrap it up.

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

Happy birthday, Minster!

[New Aksarben]

Looks like we're waiting on Romy and any last minute q's in the dining room. Let's conclude so we can launch tomorrow night. I've borrowed Minerva to end the meeting, and used Marcus to prompt the rest to wrap it up.

How should Maghrl go about getting the help of the tech priests to fortify his sabers like Marcus recommended? He has no idea where they are, Marcus never told him where to go to get their help

Also yes, most belated birthday, Min of the Civets!