NATION

PASSWORD

Elfen High 2 (OOC 4, Closed, No Morals Allowed)

For all of your non-Nationstates related roleplaying needs!

Advertisement

Remove ads

User avatar
Seshephe
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 8522
Founded: Jun 05, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Seshephe » Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:46 am

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:
Seshephe wrote:Reading up on some norse mythology, tell me if you recognise any of these names of Dwarves
Durin, Dvalin, Gandalv, Torin...


Gandalv sounds like Gandalf, :P.


Even more so if you consider that alv - alf is just different ways of spelling elf... elve
Last edited by Seshephe on Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:47 am, edited 1 time in total.


User avatar
Nightkill the Emperor
Post Kaiser
 
Posts: 88776
Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Mar 03, 2013 10:01 am

Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

User avatar
Norvenia
Minister
 
Posts: 2779
Founded: May 07, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Norvenia » Sun Mar 03, 2013 10:23 am

First one-shot. There'll be at least one and likely two more detailing the rest of this twelve-hour period; this is a coherent story, but told in serial form.

Făgăraș, Principality of Transylvania, December 1621. Friday.

They hanged the priest on Christmas Eve. The snow fell heavy down from the forbiddingly rocky peaks of the southern Carpathians where they loomed up above the little town, and it coated everything in a magical blanket of white, so light and delicate that Daniel almost didn't want to step in it, as if it would be a terrible sin to defile something so fragile and pristine with a dirty boot-print. Daniel hopped from root to stone, moving with an almost inhuman agility and grace, smiling as he went. He was ninety years old, and he felt - for a single, precious moment - like a young child again, back before it all went wrong.

* * *


He stands in the village square, the snow cold on his bare feet, and he reaches one little hand up to the drifting flakes, and to what lies beyond. The colors swirl in the night sky, like smoke, like an aurora, but Daniel cannot name them, could not even if he knew the words. There are no words. From somewhere up in the mountaintops, up where the lights are swirling, there comes a distant, terrifying shriek - a sound like a giant hawk, or shredding steel. The villagers tuck their heads down against the snow and hurry to their houses. A young woman, her beautiful face smudged with dirt and already worn with care, drops to her knees beside Daniel in the snow. "Come," she whispers, bundling the child in her arms. "Come inside."

Daniel points up to the mountains. "Dra-kon," he says. "Dra-kon."

His mother nods. "You heard the cry, little one?"

Daniel shakes his head, snow in his curls. "The lights told me." He looked up again. "It not come here."

His mother studies him with an expression that he does not understand, will not understand for years: there is anguish in her love, and awe. She takes him in her arms and picks him up. His head rests on her shoulder; she smells of dark earth and fresh-baked bread. "Come inside, little one," she whispers. Above her head, beyond the slowly falling snow, the colors without names shine like far-off fire.


* * *


Daniel heard the priest screaming when he got within a block of the town square. For a moment, the Sabbatanos felt the cold hand of dread seize his heart. Not tonight, he thought. Oh, please, Lord. Not tonight. Just give me tonight not to have to see Your foes, and shield Your flock, and be hard as iron. Let me be soft just for one night! Just for Christmas Eve.

There was no reply.

Two of the prince's men dragged the priest into the town square. He was a young man - they all looked young to Daniel, now - dressed in a grey homespun robe. The soldiers clubbed him to the ground with halberd butts, and dragged him up the rough wooden stairs of the scaffold. In Spain, they burned the Luteranos at the stake, their skin splitting and oozing out their juices to fry and crackle in the flames. But those who followed the true teachings of Jesus Christ knew that such wanton cruelty was not his way; theirs was the stern justice of Solomon. The priest wept, phlegm running over his lips, as his head was forced into the noose. No drop for him, no knot placed to snap the spine: just a slow ascent, hands bound, feet flailing, as the soldiers hauled the rope over the crossbeam and hoisted him inch by inch into the air.

* * *


"I don't want to," Daniel says. "Please, Father, don't make me. I don't want to kill anyone."

The priest sighs. "Of course not, Daniel. But this is your destiny, your duty to us all. You are a Sabbatanos: you can see things which we cannot. You can hunt the creatures which hunt us."

"But I don't
want to hunt them!" Daniel cries, almost in tears. "I just want them to leave us alone! Why can't they leave us alone!"

The priest sighs, and shakes his head. "They are the enemies of God, Daniel," he says quietly. "They will never stop hunting us."


* * *


The captain of the guard read out the sentence: by order of Prince Gabriel Bethlem, etcetera, any man found to be willfully in violation of the law of God, etcetera, papist superstition, pagan holidays, illegal Christmas services, death. Death to the enemy of God. The priest had time for one shriek before the soldiers gave a mighty heave on the rope and his feet left the scaffold, kicking as if he were dancing a hornpipe, and his sobs were choked into softly wheezing silence.

Papist plotter, Daniel thought. He closed his eyes, crushing the screaming child within. Such a death is too good for those who would pervert the Word of God. Warm blood trickled between Daniel's fingers where his nails had cut into his palms. The Sabbatanos' hands had clenched involuntarily as he had watched the hanging, hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to squeeze out weakness and purge the soul. Blood dripped slowly into the snow at Daniel's feet, and drop by drop the pristine white turned red. Daniel looked down at it for a moment. He felt that he would die if he did not weep. His eyes were dry.

High above the town, in the window of the ancient stone tower clinging to the craggy peak above, Daniel saw a swirl of light, of nameless color. Though it was miles away, Daniel thought for a moment that he could see a pale, forgotten face. His fists clenched again. They will never stop hunting us.

It was time. Daniel turned his face to the mountain, and it was as hard as iron. Father, I am coming.

Behind him, his boots left muddy wounds gouged into the soft white snow.

User avatar
Nightkill the Emperor
Post Kaiser
 
Posts: 88776
Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Mar 03, 2013 11:55 am

Norvenia wrote:First one-shot. There'll be at least one and likely two more detailing the rest of this twelve-hour period; this is a coherent story, but told in serial form.

Făgăraș, Principality of Transylvania, December 1621. Friday.

They hanged the priest on Christmas Eve. The snow fell heavy down from the forbiddingly rocky peaks of the southern Carpathians where they loomed up above the little town, and it coated everything in a magical blanket of white, so light and delicate that Daniel almost didn't want to step in it, as if it would be a terrible sin to defile something so fragile and pristine with a dirty boot-print. Daniel hopped from root to stone, moving with an almost inhuman agility and grace, smiling as he went. He was ninety years old, and he felt - for a single, precious moment - like a young child again, back before it all went wrong.

* * *


He stands in the village square, the snow cold on his bare feet, and he reaches one little hand up to the drifting flakes, and to what lies beyond. The colors swirl in the night sky, like smoke, like an aurora, but Daniel cannot name them, could not even if he knew the words. There are no words. From somewhere up in the mountaintops, up where the lights are swirling, there comes a distant, terrifying shriek - a sound like a giant hawk, or shredding steel. The villagers tuck their heads down against the snow and hurry to their houses. A young woman, her beautiful face smudged with dirt and already worn with care, drops to her knees beside Daniel in the snow. "Come," she whispers, bundling the child in her arms. "Come inside."

Daniel points up to the mountains. "Dra-kon," he says. "Dra-kon."

His mother nods. "You heard the cry, little one?"

Daniel shakes his head, snow in his curls. "The lights told me." He looked up again. "It not come here."

His mother studies him with an expression that he does not understand, will not understand for years: there is anguish in her love, and awe. She takes him in her arms and picks him up. His head rests on her shoulder; she smells of dark earth and fresh-baked bread. "Come inside, little one," she whispers. Above her head, beyond the slowly falling snow, the colors without names shine like far-off fire.


* * *


Daniel heard the priest screaming when he got within a block of the town square. For a moment, the Sabbatanos felt the cold hand of dread seize his heart. Not tonight, he thought. Oh, please, Lord. Not tonight. Just give me tonight not to have to see Your foes, and shield Your flock, and be hard as iron. Let me be soft just for one night! Just for Christmas Eve.

There was no reply.

Two of the prince's men dragged the priest into the town square. He was a young man - they all looked young to Daniel, now - dressed in a grey homespun robe. The soldiers clubbed him to the ground with halberd butts, and dragged him up the rough wooden stairs of the scaffold. In Spain, they burned the Luteranos at the stake, their skin splitting and oozing out their juices to fry and crackle in the flames. But those who followed the true teachings of Jesus Christ knew that such wanton cruelty was not his way; theirs was the stern justice of Solomon. The priest wept, phlegm running over his lips, as his head was forced into the noose. No drop for him, no knot placed to snap the spine: just a slow ascent, hands bound, feet flailing, as the soldiers hauled the rope over the crossbeam and hoisted him inch by inch into the air.

* * *


"I don't want to," Daniel says. "Please, Father, don't make me. I don't want to kill anyone."

The priest sighs. "Of course not, Daniel. But this is your destiny, your duty to us all. You are a Sabbatanos: you can see things which we cannot. You can hunt the creatures which hunt us."

"But I don't
want to hunt them!" Daniel cries, almost in tears. "I just want them to leave us alone! Why can't they leave us alone!"

The priest sighs, and shakes his head. "They are the enemies of God, Daniel," he says quietly. "They will never stop hunting us."


* * *


The captain of the guard read out the sentence: by order of Prince Gabriel Bethlem, etcetera, any man found to be willfully in violation of the law of God, etcetera, papist superstition, pagan holidays, illegal Christmas services, death. Death to the enemy of God. The priest had time for one shriek before the soldiers gave a mighty heave on the rope and his feet left the scaffold, kicking as if he were dancing a hornpipe, and his sobs were choked into softly wheezing silence.

Papist plotter, Daniel thought. He closed his eyes, crushing the screaming child within. Such a death is too good for those who would pervert the Word of God. Warm blood trickled between Daniel's fingers where his nails had cut into his palms. The Sabbatanos' hands had clenched involuntarily as he had watched the hanging, hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to squeeze out weakness and purge the soul. Blood dripped slowly into the snow at Daniel's feet, and drop by drop the pristine white turned red. Daniel looked down at it for a moment. He felt that he would die if he did not weep. His eyes were dry.

High above the town, in the window of the ancient stone tower clinging to the craggy peak above, Daniel saw a swirl of light, of nameless color. Though it was miles away, Daniel thought for a moment that he could see a pale, forgotten face. His fists clenched again. They will never stop hunting us.

It was time. Daniel turned his face to the mountain, and it was as hard as iron. Father, I am coming.

Behind him, his boots left muddy wounds gouged into the soft white snow.

Magnificent.

Also, I will work on updating the third post with the latest oneshots.

Eventually. :p
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

User avatar
Individuality-ness
Post Czar
 
Posts: 37712
Founded: Mar 02, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Individuality-ness » Sun Mar 03, 2013 12:03 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Norvenia wrote:First one-shot. There'll be at least one and likely two more detailing the rest of this twelve-hour period; this is a coherent story, but told in serial form.

Făgăraș, Principality of Transylvania, December 1621. Friday.

They hanged the priest on Christmas Eve. The snow fell heavy down from the forbiddingly rocky peaks of the southern Carpathians where they loomed up above the little town, and it coated everything in a magical blanket of white, so light and delicate that Daniel almost didn't want to step in it, as if it would be a terrible sin to defile something so fragile and pristine with a dirty boot-print. Daniel hopped from root to stone, moving with an almost inhuman agility and grace, smiling as he went. He was ninety years old, and he felt - for a single, precious moment - like a young child again, back before it all went wrong.

* * *


He stands in the village square, the snow cold on his bare feet, and he reaches one little hand up to the drifting flakes, and to what lies beyond. The colors swirl in the night sky, like smoke, like an aurora, but Daniel cannot name them, could not even if he knew the words. There are no words. From somewhere up in the mountaintops, up where the lights are swirling, there comes a distant, terrifying shriek - a sound like a giant hawk, or shredding steel. The villagers tuck their heads down against the snow and hurry to their houses. A young woman, her beautiful face smudged with dirt and already worn with care, drops to her knees beside Daniel in the snow. "Come," she whispers, bundling the child in her arms. "Come inside."

Daniel points up to the mountains. "Dra-kon," he says. "Dra-kon."

His mother nods. "You heard the cry, little one?"

Daniel shakes his head, snow in his curls. "The lights told me." He looked up again. "It not come here."

His mother studies him with an expression that he does not understand, will not understand for years: there is anguish in her love, and awe. She takes him in her arms and picks him up. His head rests on her shoulder; she smells of dark earth and fresh-baked bread. "Come inside, little one," she whispers. Above her head, beyond the slowly falling snow, the colors without names shine like far-off fire.


* * *


Daniel heard the priest screaming when he got within a block of the town square. For a moment, the Sabbatanos felt the cold hand of dread seize his heart. Not tonight, he thought. Oh, please, Lord. Not tonight. Just give me tonight not to have to see Your foes, and shield Your flock, and be hard as iron. Let me be soft just for one night! Just for Christmas Eve.

There was no reply.

Two of the prince's men dragged the priest into the town square. He was a young man - they all looked young to Daniel, now - dressed in a grey homespun robe. The soldiers clubbed him to the ground with halberd butts, and dragged him up the rough wooden stairs of the scaffold. In Spain, they burned the Luteranos at the stake, their skin splitting and oozing out their juices to fry and crackle in the flames. But those who followed the true teachings of Jesus Christ knew that such wanton cruelty was not his way; theirs was the stern justice of Solomon. The priest wept, phlegm running over his lips, as his head was forced into the noose. No drop for him, no knot placed to snap the spine: just a slow ascent, hands bound, feet flailing, as the soldiers hauled the rope over the crossbeam and hoisted him inch by inch into the air.

* * *


"I don't want to," Daniel says. "Please, Father, don't make me. I don't want to kill anyone."

The priest sighs. "Of course not, Daniel. But this is your destiny, your duty to us all. You are a Sabbatanos: you can see things which we cannot. You can hunt the creatures which hunt us."

"But I don't
want to hunt them!" Daniel cries, almost in tears. "I just want them to leave us alone! Why can't they leave us alone!"

The priest sighs, and shakes his head. "They are the enemies of God, Daniel," he says quietly. "They will never stop hunting us."


* * *


The captain of the guard read out the sentence: by order of Prince Gabriel Bethlem, etcetera, any man found to be willfully in violation of the law of God, etcetera, papist superstition, pagan holidays, illegal Christmas services, death. Death to the enemy of God. The priest had time for one shriek before the soldiers gave a mighty heave on the rope and his feet left the scaffold, kicking as if he were dancing a hornpipe, and his sobs were choked into softly wheezing silence.

Papist plotter, Daniel thought. He closed his eyes, crushing the screaming child within. Such a death is too good for those who would pervert the Word of God. Warm blood trickled between Daniel's fingers where his nails had cut into his palms. The Sabbatanos' hands had clenched involuntarily as he had watched the hanging, hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to squeeze out weakness and purge the soul. Blood dripped slowly into the snow at Daniel's feet, and drop by drop the pristine white turned red. Daniel looked down at it for a moment. He felt that he would die if he did not weep. His eyes were dry.

High above the town, in the window of the ancient stone tower clinging to the craggy peak above, Daniel saw a swirl of light, of nameless color. Though it was miles away, Daniel thought for a moment that he could see a pale, forgotten face. His fists clenched again. They will never stop hunting us.

It was time. Daniel turned his face to the mountain, and it was as hard as iron. Father, I am coming.

Behind him, his boots left muddy wounds gouged into the soft white snow.

Magnificent.

Also, I will work on updating the third post with the latest oneshots.

Eventually. :p

Within the next decade. *nod*
"I should have listened to her, so hard to keep control. We kept on eating but our bloated bellies still not full."
Poetry Thread | How to Not Rape | Aspergers v. Assburgers | You Might be an Altie If... | Factbook/Extension

User avatar
Nightkill the Emperor
Post Kaiser
 
Posts: 88776
Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Mar 03, 2013 12:06 pm

Individuality-ness wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:Magnificent.

Also, I will work on updating the third post with the latest oneshots.

Eventually. :p

Within the next decade. *nod*

Look at the "Asgard" and "Hindu Lokas" part of my OP.

That has been sitting there like that for nearly two years.
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

User avatar
Individuality-ness
Post Czar
 
Posts: 37712
Founded: Mar 02, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Individuality-ness » Sun Mar 03, 2013 12:09 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Individuality-ness wrote:Within the next decade. *nod*

Look at the "Asgard" and "Hindu Lokas" part of my OP.

That has been sitting there like that for nearly two years.

I have, I did that when I was learning about EH.

Shall I adjust the time frame to "within the next century"? :P
"I should have listened to her, so hard to keep control. We kept on eating but our bloated bellies still not full."
Poetry Thread | How to Not Rape | Aspergers v. Assburgers | You Might be an Altie If... | Factbook/Extension

User avatar
Nightkill the Emperor
Post Kaiser
 
Posts: 88776
Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Mar 03, 2013 12:10 pm

Individuality-ness wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:Look at the "Asgard" and "Hindu Lokas" part of my OP.

That has been sitting there like that for nearly two years.

I have, I did that when I was learning about EH.

Shall I adjust the time frame to "within the next century"? :P

That's a better estimate. :lol:
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

User avatar
Individuality-ness
Post Czar
 
Posts: 37712
Founded: Mar 02, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Individuality-ness » Sun Mar 03, 2013 12:17 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Individuality-ness wrote:I have, I did that when I was learning about EH.

Shall I adjust the time frame to "within the next century"? :P

That's a better estimate. :lol:

:P

I'll probably compile them into a list for you at some point. :P
"I should have listened to her, so hard to keep control. We kept on eating but our bloated bellies still not full."
Poetry Thread | How to Not Rape | Aspergers v. Assburgers | You Might be an Altie If... | Factbook/Extension

User avatar
Olthar
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 59474
Founded: Jun 23, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Olthar » Sun Mar 03, 2013 12:33 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:This is adorable.

:3
The Second Cataclysm: My New RP

Roll Them Bones: A Guide to Dice RPs

My mommy says I'm special.
Add 37 to my post count for my previous nation.

Copy and paste this into your signature if you're a unique and special individual who won't conform to another person's demands.

User avatar
Ranbo
Minister
 
Posts: 3202
Founded: Aug 06, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Ranbo » Sun Mar 03, 2013 1:21 pm

I'll be totally honest.

Due to my on-and-off posting tendency with Kane, I have absolutely no clue, none, about what's going on in the IC. I'm going to have to work extra hard to change that.
Last Edited by Charlie at 4:00 Oogle Time, 1,000,000 times in total


I am from the States of America. I dropped the United a hell of a while ago.
Bhastion Brews. For the coffee lover in you.


Jenrak, kick cancer in the face. We're all proud of your courage.

User avatar
Mavorpen
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 63266
Founded: Dec 20, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Mavorpen » Sun Mar 03, 2013 1:23 pm

Ranbo wrote:I'll be totally honest.

Due to my on-and-off posting tendency with Kane, I have absolutely no clue, none, about what's going on in the IC. I'm going to have to work extra hard to change that.

Welcome to the club. Allow me to show you around.
"The Nixon campaign in 1968, and the Nixon White House after that, had two enemies: the antiwar left and black people. You understand what I'm saying? We knew we couldn't make it illegal to be either against the war or black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. We could arrest their leaders. raid their homes, break up their meetings, and vilify them night after night on the evening news. Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did."—former Nixon domestic policy chief John Ehrlichman

User avatar
Olthar
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 59474
Founded: Jun 23, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Olthar » Sun Mar 03, 2013 1:24 pm

Ranbo wrote:I'll be totally honest.

Due to my on-and-off posting tendency with Kane, I have absolutely no clue, none, about what's going on in the IC. I'm going to have to work extra hard to change that.

I've been reading everything, and I don't really know much more than you. Though, I am also incredibly apathetic about it, so it could just be that I don't care enough to try. :P
The Second Cataclysm: My New RP

Roll Them Bones: A Guide to Dice RPs

My mommy says I'm special.
Add 37 to my post count for my previous nation.

Copy and paste this into your signature if you're a unique and special individual who won't conform to another person's demands.

User avatar
Nightkill the Emperor
Post Kaiser
 
Posts: 88776
Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Mar 03, 2013 1:55 pm

Calliel is so confused.
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

User avatar
Nationstatelandsville
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 70969
Founded: Apr 27, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Mar 03, 2013 1:56 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:Calliel is so confused.

"Based on the videos Crowley has loaned to me, this part should involve less screaming and more unimaginable sins."
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

User avatar
Nationstatelandsville
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 70969
Founded: Apr 27, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Mar 03, 2013 1:59 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:Calliel is so confused.

"Based on the videos Crowley has loaned to me, this part should involve less screaming and more unimaginable sins."

"Unless these are the videos from his 'Too Fucked Up For Me' drawer."
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

User avatar
Nightkill the Emperor
Post Kaiser
 
Posts: 88776
Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Mar 03, 2013 1:59 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Nationstatelandsville wrote:"Based on the videos Crowley has loaned to me, this part should involve less screaming and more unimaginable sins."

"Unless these are the videos from his 'Too Fucked Up For Me' drawer."

Crowley laughs at the concept of that drawer.
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

User avatar
Nationstatelandsville
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 70969
Founded: Apr 27, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:00 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Nationstatelandsville wrote:"Unless these are the videos from his 'Too Fucked Up For Me' drawer."

Crowley laughs at the concept of that drawer.

I imagine it contains romantic comedies starring Sandra Bullock.
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

User avatar
Rupudska
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 20403
Founded: Sep 16, 2010
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Rupudska » Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:02 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Nationstatelandsville wrote:"Based on the videos Crowley has loaned to me, this part should involve less screaming and more unimaginable sins."

"Unless these are the videos from his 'Too Fucked Up For Me' drawer."


Neither Crowley nor Yuzuki have such a drawer. It's their 'Too Fucked Up For Sexual Mortals' drawer.
The Holy Roman Empire of Karlsland (MT/FanT & FT/FanT)
THE Strike Witches NationState
Best thread ever.|SPACE!
MT Factbook/FT Factbook|Embassy|Q&A
On Karlsland Witch Doctrine:
Hladgos wrote:Scantly clad women, more like tanks
seem to be blowing up everyones banks
with airstrikes from girls with wings to their knees
which show a bit more than just their panties

Questers wrote:
Rupudska wrote:So do you fight with AK-47s or something even more primitive? Since I doubt any economy could reasonably sustain itself that way.
Presumably they use advanced technology like STRIKE WITCHES

User avatar
Nightkill the Emperor
Post Kaiser
 
Posts: 88776
Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:07 pm

Image
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

User avatar
Nationstatelandsville
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 70969
Founded: Apr 27, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:08 pm

Is it just me, or has the general quality of P2TM degraded since the split from F7?

Or am I just even more of an old man these days?
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

User avatar
Nightkill the Emperor
Post Kaiser
 
Posts: 88776
Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:09 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:Is it just me, or has the general quality of P2TM degraded since the split from F7?

Or am I just even more of an old man these days?

To be honest, it's actually better. Old F7 rps were really bad.

These are also bad, but are a bit better. A bit.

Besides, who cares? We have our little oasis of enjoyment in my shit.
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

User avatar
Nationstatelandsville
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 70969
Founded: Apr 27, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:10 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Nationstatelandsville wrote:Is it just me, or has the general quality of P2TM degraded since the split from F7?

Or am I just even more of an old man these days?

To be honest, it's actually better. Old F7 rps were really bad.

These are also bad, but are a bit better. A bit.

Besides, who cares? We have our little oasis of enjoyment in my shit.

"We have an oasis in my shit."
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

User avatar
Olthar
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 59474
Founded: Jun 23, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Olthar » Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:12 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:Is it just me, or has the general quality of P2TM degraded since the split from F7?

Or am I just even more of an old man these days?

No, things are significantly better than they used to be. Virtually every RP back then was shit, so much so that I rarely ever even participated in them. Now, I can actually start or join an RP and realistically expect quality posting from most, if not all of the participants.
The Second Cataclysm: My New RP

Roll Them Bones: A Guide to Dice RPs

My mommy says I'm special.
Add 37 to my post count for my previous nation.

Copy and paste this into your signature if you're a unique and special individual who won't conform to another person's demands.

User avatar
Nationstatelandsville
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 70969
Founded: Apr 27, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:13 pm

Another note - Google Translate is allergic to Hindi.
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

PreviousNext

Advertisement

Remove ads

Return to Portal to the Multiverse

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: Alaroma, Barapam, Holy Tedalonia, Kelmet, Meelducan, Nakarisaune, Plzen, Ralnis, The GAmeTopians, The National Dominion of Hungary

Advertisement

Remove ads