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The New Velociraptor Empire
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Founded: Dec 18, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The New Velociraptor Empire » Thu Aug 06, 2015 7:59 pm

Neil and Gretta were roused by the commotion, finding themselves bound together by rope. Neil sighed and asked, "Again?" to nobody in particular as he easily cut through the ropes with his sharp claws. "I'm afraid so." Gretta replied as she freed herself just in time as the floating ship had begun dragging the anchor.

Up above Robert caught sight of the backyard pirate ship through his high power spyglass as it moved down Main street. "Enemy sighted!" the young raptor exclaimed. "Full speed ahead and raise the anchor!" Swift ordered his siblings as he turned the airship's wheel. "All cannons primed with sporks!" Jenny reported from below deck as she struggled to raise the anchor. The trio of young Raptors set out to "sink" the rival pirate ship.

Arthur dug himself out of the cocaine pool, somewhat confused and surprised that somewhere along the way an apple got pinned to his shoulder by an arrow. Fortunately, he couldn't feel it but one wonders how exactly these things happened.

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Tsuyoi Tekikoku
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Founded: Jul 31, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Tsuyoi Tekikoku » Thu Aug 06, 2015 8:30 pm

Edge tripped and fell on her face, she rolled around for a bit and stood up. "Rawr, Imma kill spinosaurus!" That said, a passing truck filled with toy dinosaurs bounced over a rock and the door to the back came open, then a toy spinosaurus flew out, bounced off of a wall, then off a tree, and finally off of a car's window and flew straight towards Edge like a sniper's bullet. As Edge approached Katya and the......raptors...she...was talking to?...The toy spinosaurs whacked her right in the face, and knocked her out cold. The toy spinosaurus landed on her face and made a glitchy laughing sound, as if it was taunting the Poor T-rex girl.
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Mincaldenteans
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Founded: Feb 17, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Mincaldenteans » Thu Aug 06, 2015 10:36 pm

Mab

Faes had a knack for doing this kind of thing, but it often came with a celebration long and without masking one's senses, or fogged concentration, with guaranteed pleasure (or horror) from the simplest to the deranged. Then came the black out but at least the memory of the previous night's debauchery would forever be remembered. This however, this was absolutely different and to be suddenly here in the park skating on ice jarred the Monarch of the Winter Sidhe; it was simply alien to experience. This would make it the second time this had happened to her; not that she wasn't in favored company, but it was the principle of the matter being caught off guard twice in a row. What could happen next time? The first was a dance in the backyard, a waltz that had the potential to shift reality with every spin, now it was a dance of darkness and ice, a medium that was closer to her nature, her existence. Fortunately, she could hardly hold onto her trepidation, as the feeling dissipated as quickly as the orchestra. The music was a welcome to the dance upon the moonlight, a perfect moment, really. Pity, she thought to herself, an hour or two more of the symphony with ice under her feet and in the arms of Fritz would have been a welcomed notion. But such moments never lasted, Mab knew, and for a being like her it that was a rarity on its own.

Mab looked up to the dark skies then, her tri-colored storm eyes glazed in the dark as the eerie silence of night reacted to her gaze. The fading moon's light was captured under the fae's alabaster skin, giving a faint illumination across the exposed portions of her body while long strands of hair fell around her shoulders in a blanket that so dark it glimmered in purple and white. The night's chill affected her none, instead registering as a familiar to her being and power. They played gently upon her skin, welcoming and paying its due to the Winter Sidhe. A light laugh escaped her deep red lips then, partly from joy that sprang up from somewhere deep within her that she never indulged, and for Fritz's modest comment since a fae was never truly modest to be without any clothes. Mab kept her smile, letting the feel of it linger for the time being. The warmth of Fritz's jacket, and his hands upon her shoulders was an added welcome, one that crept into a bigger smile the Queen of Air & Darkness did nothing to stop.

She rested her hand upon Fritz's chest, leaning in to look up into his eyes filled a singular happiness no one else would be lucky enough to see. Mab spared but a moment to see a trio fiddling about by the fountain, she couldn't bring herself to detract from this moment.

"And time yet, still," Mab murmured softly.

The House

They were an implacable force. An endless legion of them that made of bright colors and delicate features. They moved as though blessed with the grace of the wind and they dance upon their feet, barely stirring the dust in their fancy footwork, playing with him as with each dodged swing of his fists. Never had the Klingon encountered such a formidable enemy, one that kept its arms wide open with a smiles of warmth and welcome, no trace of fear and a disturbing emotion of happiness stuck upon their faces. It was all a farce, somewhere deep inside him knew that, it had to be. They were the most insidious of p'taQ'pu he'd ever face and Mezran swore silently that he'd die before submitting to them.

A string of curses only the gatekeeper of Gre'thor could make out escaped the Klingon's mouth, roaring as he charged with arms wide and tackled the tubemen with barely a grip to to them. He landed upon the grass in a heavy thud, the full impact jarring him and doing nothing against the happy-faced clown figurine. Impossible!

He punched it, hard, the spiked ends of his leather gauntlets ruptured the inflatable, letting loose a whistle of air while it crumpled upon itself into a wrinkled mess of plastic and rubber.

"Hah! The y'Intagh'pu do die!" Mezran bellowed in triumph as he got back to his feet and readied himself to face the rest.

Someone smacked his head from behind and all enthusiasm for the ongoing war against the army of flailing-arm tubemen dissipated with it.

"You dumb targ, these are toys, they are not even real! They don't bleed! How do you defeat an enemy when you can't break bones?" Tavana huffed, though her jagged grin gave away her amusement, complete with twinkle in her eyes. She stepped up, letting her heavy boots settle upon the one unfortunate slain tubemen and narrowed her eyes across the remaining they still faced.

She made a slight nod as though satisfied of her death glare upon the inflatables, "Let us retired for the night, I do not care to be outside so late and these... things are not worthy of anymore attention than you've given it."

"Bah, they all deserve a quick death!" Mezran argued, though the hardened stare from Tavana caved the proud warrior and he grumbled his acceptance with a shake of his mane. He turned to see see Chrys and Hans had similarly fought against the tubemen, though likely they knew it was harmless.

"First the tribbles, now this p'taQ'pu, the next thing you know it will be the Ferengi," he rumbled under a thin veneer of disgust. His stomach was growling, perhaps Tavana's insistence was a blessing in disguise. He looked up to the rest of them, "Come, my friends, let us head back. I would have you join us for morning breakfast, if you like."



Apartment 8A, err, the Guild

There was a certain peace and tranquility that came with devotion and duty. Erick, being a dervish, a scythe wielding wandering monk, paid many a homage to his gods. Temples of the five gods could be found anywhere in Tyria, and many like Erick took great pains to tend to any left in disrepair and neglect. Now in a home that held altars of all five, Erick had made it a point to pay his respects to the Five. The Dervish had no high hopes or wishes, nor designs or false promise, a humble servant to his dying days, perhaps his only wish was gentle ease into the afterlife.

This morning was no different than every morning since their permanent residency in Bielefeld. His morning ritual of attending to the gods' altars was well underway when most of his guildmates were still slumbered. Per the usual routine, it started with Dwayna. The Goddess of Life and Air was a fragmented stone statue suspended in the air with wings spread across, a half torso of a woman with her arms spread and head up looking to the sky. Her statue was no more than 3 feet high, nestled in thick green leaves close to a stream. Here, Erick rested his knees at the base of her statue, lighting incense of sandalwood while humming an old hymn he remembered as a child. The next was Melandru, the Goddess of Earth and Nature, a figurine of a half-woman, half-tree that sat around a well of water, enclosed to protect the wary traveler from the elements of the earth; here Erick placed incense made of copal and held a silent tribute without his shoes, a symbolic acknowledgement to nature and his singular being in the goddess' domain. The God of War came after, a statue of a proud long bearded man with a barrel body that laid his hands upon a large sword buried into the earth. At the base of his robed figure accompanied a pair of hounds at his feet. Erick took careful note to lay his scythe nearby the tiny figurine, a show of devotion and gratitude to the lord martial was honored with olibanum incense. The next was Lyssa, the goddess of Beauty and Illusion: Myrrh was the usual incense and so was his hood that shrouded his visage while he prayed. An old tale he remembered of the goddess where aspects made one beautiful; not their looks. The last was Grenth, as fitting to what he represented. The of Death and Ice looked forward under a dark hood, the souls at his feet clamoring for him in devotion or fear. Most misunderstood the practical god, but Erick had a certain respect for him and only wished that when it was his time, Grenth would ease his passing into the next life. He lit a black copal incense and prostrated himself at the feet of Grenth, whispering a prayer...

When a loud banging echoed across the courtyard and into the foyer. Erick winced, feeling a surge of irritation for being interrupted in his morning prayer. There was a specific reason he woke up this early, not only because it was a tradition, a routine, but also because of the silence. The banging didn't stop and Erick had to let a pray of forgiveness to Grenth before he rose quickly, settling his feet into his well worn leather shoes and hastily gripped his scythe from Balthazar's altar. With a featherfoot grace, Erick was at the front gates of the guild home, still mumbling his irritation of the day's service. He stopped short, realizing he had the scythe firmly gripped and settled the weapon out of the way but within reach. Turning the rustic doorknob that led to the outside world, Erick swung the door in haste, ready to chase away the visitor...

...only to find a child in front of him.

The dervish blinked, frowned, and looked out the hallway to see if the kid had any parents. He pushed the brown hood from his head. "Can I help you, young one?"
Last edited by Mincaldenteans on Mon Aug 10, 2015 7:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Highfort
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Founded: May 11, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Highfort » Fri Aug 07, 2015 12:00 am

Septimus let out a hiss as he struggled not to scream as Neste's exo ripped one of the bumper stickers from his belly. A bit of blood seeped out from the exposed flesh, indicating that enough skin and hair had gone with the sticker to warrant concern on his part. He leveled a glare on the other part of Neste's consciousness before his gaze softened - she'd probably had just as crazy an evening as everyone else had, given the wave of insanity that had swept across the city.

Her earlier comment, dropping the name "Zalgo" confirmed his suspicions that he'd been drugged. If mass-drugging was commonplace in this city then he wasn't so sure he was cut out to be part of its government in any capacity. At the very least, drugs weren't a popular recreational item in the Confederation and Septimus had little experience with them. Of course, given 2,000 years, even the most prudish individual gets around to trying the classics once or twice - marijuana and cocaine were not unknown to him - but he still felt very out-of-place given that the Chaos and whoever these "god killers" were seemed to be content to intrude on citizen's private lives to through senseless, dangerous parties using drugs.

Before he had a chance to spare more than a glance at the now-clothed Fritz and the still-nude Mab, Septimus was freed from the wrapping of streamers and bumper stickers and thrown aloft the construct's exo.

The cyborg let out a yelp as the exo proceeded with locomotion and carried her pilot and him out of the park and toward the Building. Stabilizing himself upon her back, he turned to face the nearly-nude construct as she asked about him. Septimus' cheeks reddened as he noted that his name was plastered rather tastelessly across her breasts on a bumper sticker, quickly pulling his gaze up as he answered.

"I-I'm fine," he nodded vigorously, absentmindedly scratching at his groin as he realized that his decency was being protected by a wrapping of both stickers and streamers which would probably make him howl upon attempted removal, "Could be worse, I suppose. I just wish I remembered what the fuck happened that left us naked wearing my name on our bodies."

He laughed at the incredulity of it, rubbing the back of his head as the pain dulled slightly and his senses came back to him in limited form, "Wow, never thought I'd be using all those words in that order. This 'Zalgo', whoever he or she is, has an odd sense of humor."
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Tiltjuice
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Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tiltjuice » Fri Aug 07, 2015 8:01 am

Dora was rolled off Adrastus' legs as the tech-priest sat up. It was just as well, anyway, she thought rather blearily as she also twisted awkwardly around to a sitting position. Nearly two millennia of partying, contrary to Septimus' experience, had left her with tolerance only to alcohol and nicotine - chemically speaking, anyway. At the moment, though, one of the two called her name, and she didn't particularly care which.

At once, the applause of the tech-priests drew her notice, and she glanced up to catch the mural in its half-lit glory, the point at which she'd always most appreciated sights. It gave her a bit more energy, enough to check if she had sufficient clothing on. Not that it particularly bothered her one way or the other, but she didn't want to chance embarrassing or irritating the tech-priests. Or scarring Marcus and Giovenith. Satisfied with the results (nothing torn, merely ruffled and askew), she approached it to take a closer look, moving from side to side. The vivid colors spoke of esprit and soul, and that touched her heart as very few things truly did. In her scrutiny, she nearly missed the blurred figures in the corner, but at the last minute her gaze passed back over them. She reached out to touch, stopping just short of the surface.
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Primordial Luxa
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Founded: Oct 30, 2012
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Primordial Luxa » Fri Aug 07, 2015 9:29 am

Primordial ignored the pain and allowed it wash over him in cascading waves of agony rather than focus on it in any particular amount. That was the way he had learn to transcend the physicality of it and allow the pain to change into ecstatic pleasure. The trick was ignoring it and letting it take its course while it would naturally flow into your brain, for a Luxan that had so many different sensations in their memory pain that wasn’t being focused on quickly turned into much softer emotions. This skill was one which most Luxans possessed since Sadomasochism was considered a holy skill like prayer or meditation. It meant going beyond the physical and the mental and therefore ignore the pathetic part of the human condition. Primordial had learned this skill from Aegis and from his time living in the apartment where there were always opportunities to ignore and supersede the suffering.

So when he stood up Primordial was filled with anger rather than pain and he channeled the anger and the unused pain into her strength. He extended his hand which was curled into a fist and said “You’re meek that power set is the only thing good about you.” He opened his hand and uttered a word of non-Euclidian kinetic filament and a ball of potential energy flared up in front of her. She didn’t have the training with pain Primordial did, she was young not nearly as experienced as he was. So the blast sent pain burning through her skin, down into the roots of her muscles and lancing into her bones like a spear.

“And even that is insignificant.” He continued walking towards her slowly as he suppressed the pain. “Why Insidious thought that you would somehow need a brain is beyond me. I suppose she does like her art projects but you are obviously nothing more than a failure to her.” It then that Hollow surged towards him with a more controlled and intelligent fury than she had lashed out with originally. Her skin was now the rolling red insides of a pedigree falcon allowing her to charge forward at over two hundred miles an hour. She slammed into Primordial who quickly plunged his fingers into her face and began sending out torrents of tactile force like needles.

Hollow responded by dropping Primordial who hit the ground like a bag of rocks and was pitched about because of the speed they had been moving. She then reached into her archival gut and pulled out the tenacity of Tardigrades to heal and ignore the deep tissue damage that would have broken someone else’s skull in half. “Your nothing but a dullard failure. You were treasonous to your countries ideals and now you’re trying to make up for it. But you will always know deep down you’ve failed. As long as a none-Luxan exists in this Universe you have failed.”
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The BranRiech
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Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Fri Aug 07, 2015 12:17 pm

"S-sorry . . ."

Drova too, took a few steps back, almost horrified. He . . . He'd just kissed a human, a human girl! Part of him was torn on how to feel. Torii definitely wasn't happy with the situation, and neither was he, but it was almost exhilarating in a way. He couldn't lie to himself and say he was disappointed.

"I-It is quite late, I think I'll . . . I think I'll go to bed." He stuttered, tearing the ring from his finger, dropping it on the podium, letting it clank around before falling down lower, onto the ground of the park. His eyes drooped down, unable to look Torii in the eyes. "I-I'm sorry for violating you." He sighed, knowing an apology was in order. "I don't even remember what happened, to be completely honest."

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Torsiedelle
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Founded: Dec 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Fri Aug 07, 2015 2:44 pm

"No, it's okay, I was just surprised is all!"

Torii didn't know exactly how to rationalize the situation. Yes, she was upset, but a part of her was also kind of excited by the whole thing. He might not have been the girl Torii wanted, but she appreciated the kiss.

She picked up Drova's ring and squatted down next to him. "You didn't violate me, Drova. Actually, you were great.", She told him. "And that's coming from a girl who's into girls. You're a good kisser."

That really didn't come out as she intended it. Did it? Shit, now Torii was double-embarrassed, sitting near the boy. "Anyways!", She tried to avoid that topic, "Keep the ring. Is this your first, um, Zalgo-thingy? I've been in worse situations, but we can keep these rings as a reminder.", She said. "And, uh, also, I think they're plastic wedding rings. Hopefully not a real wedding, right?", She chuckled. "I hope. We can laugh this off, right?"

How was she supposed to handle this? She didn't know what to say. She had a crazy idea, but...well, no, she didn't know what to do. She hoped that her friend wouldn't be too upset by this awkward moment.

........

Katya got up and stood over Edge. "And here you go, sleeping! Sleep is for sheep. Come on, why don't we go find your room and turn it up a notch? I can get more drinks!", She tried hoisting her friend up. "It'll be great!"
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The BranRiech
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Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Fri Aug 07, 2015 5:03 pm

He was a good . . . A good kisser?

Drova shook his head, trying to deflect the feelings for Torii, trying to put himself in a more stable mindset. His mind kept wandering back though, to the same subject as before. S-she likes me! She likes me! He thought with wild excitement, cheeks turning red with embarrassment that he be caught in such a compromising state of mind.

But wait. Torii liked other girls?

"Uh . . . Thanks." He managed to stutter out, lips quivering with the memory of meeting Torii's own. He'd hopelessly fallen for her now, no turning back in his belief that she was perfect. He looked down at the ring as if to distract himself from his rebellious thoughts. "Oh, these? Had I known they were cheap toys, I would have gotten rid of it long ago." He brushed the notion off that they were wedding rings. "And hopefully so, I suppose we can see this as . . . Mmm, just having fun?"

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Giovenith
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Posts: 19552
Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Fri Aug 07, 2015 5:45 pm

At first not having noticed the mural, Giovenith was seized by confusion when Marcus stumbled over words, but then quickly noticed the large graffiti display herself with a gasp. Obviously she did not actually remember creating it, so there was a moment of further confusion and worry when everyone started cheering and Marcus was congratulating her. Looking at it closer she could tell that yes, it was likely her handiwork, but it still felt strange receiving credit for something she did not remember painting up. It brought a heavy blush to her complexion, and she found herself clinging close to Marcus' arm out of bashfulness.

"I..." she tried, looking downward. "I, did my best I guess, thank you..."

Looking back up at the mural, further warmth spread through Giovenith a greater appreciation dawned on her. She didn't know what she'd been on during the fest, but it hadn't interfered with the overall magnificence of the piece. In fact, it was probably the best it could have been--harmony, the people of Bielefeld, together! Could this have been the very first depiction of what actually happened during a Zalgofest?

"That's what I want to happen for real," she said, pointing up at the mural and smiling.
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Torsiedelle
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Founded: Dec 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Fri Aug 07, 2015 8:09 pm

The BranRiech wrote:He was a good . . . A good kisser?

Drova shook his head, trying to deflect the feelings for Torii, trying to put himself in a more stable mindset. His mind kept wandering back though, to the same subject as before. S-she likes me! She likes me! He thought with wild excitement, cheeks turning red with embarrassment that he be caught in such a compromising state of mind.

But wait. Torii liked other girls?

"Uh . . . Thanks." He managed to stutter out, lips quivering with the memory of meeting Torii's own. He'd hopelessly fallen for her now, no turning back in his belief that she was perfect. He looked down at the ring as if to distract himself from his rebellious thoughts. "Oh, these? Had I known they were cheap toys, I would have gotten rid of it long ago." He brushed the notion off that they were wedding rings. "And hopefully so, I suppose we can see this as . . . Mmm, just having fun?"


"Yeah, just fun.", Said Torii. They had simply gone to the party, been affected just like everyone else, and had some fun, which ended in them sharing a kiss with a beer label bouquet and two rings. What was so bad about that?

She wrapped her arms around her legs and curled up, using the podium to lean back. "So..."
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Fvaarniimar
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Founded: Nov 20, 2013
Mother Knows Best State

Postby Fvaarniimar » Sat Aug 08, 2015 11:02 am

Kwa'a coughed. "Strong drink..." It was spicy and tasted of freshness, but wasn't going down her throat right. Through vision rather distorted by large quantities of genuine alcohol (which was starting to exit her system, leaving her with a headache) she spotted Bran. She giggled. Sitting on the edge of a river thing, no attempt at protecting himself...she needed water and this looked clean. Taking a huge gulp partway across the river lake thing, she had enough time to get to Bran and attempt to yank him into the water before she started hacking as though her lungs were attempting to eject themselves.
Mincaldenteans wrote:Apartment 8A, err, the Guild

There was a certain peace and tranquility that came with devotion and duty. Erick, being a dervish, a scythe wielding wandering monk, paid many a homage to his gods. Temples of the five gods could be found anywhere in Tyria, and many like Erick took great pains to tend to any left in disrepair and neglect. Now in a home that held altars of all five, Erick had made it a point to pay his respects to the Five. The Dervish had no high hopes or wishes, nor designs or false promise, a humble servant to his dying days, perhaps his only wish was gentle ease into the afterlife.

This morning was no different than every morning since their permanent residency in Bielefeld. His morning ritual of attending to the gods' altars was well underway when most of his guildmates were still slumbered. Per the usual routine, it started with Dwayna [...] The banging didn't stop and Erick had to let a pray of forgiveness to Grenth before he rose quickly, settling his feet into his well worn leather shoes and hastily gripped his scythe from Balthazar's altar. With a featherfoot grace, Erick was at the front gates of the guild home, still mumbling his irritation of the day's service. He stopped short, realizing he had the scythe firmly gripped and settled the weapon out of the way but within reach. Turning the rustic doorknob that led to the outside world, Erick swung the door in haste, ready to chase away the visitor...

...only to find a child in front of him.

The dervish blinked, frowned, and looked out the hallway to see if the kid had any parents. He pushed the brown hood from his head. "Can I help you, young one?"


Frantically, the kid looked for Duncan before giving up and speaking - this would test her English skills. "Well... Um..." Giving up on reaching her apartment anytime soon, she lay down, trying to use the stuffed animal as a pillow -

Which resulted in claws in her scalp as a certain spammy rat stuck to her hair with something like glue or molasses made his displeasure at being woken and squished clear. "I apologize, Duncan!" Rmwtyliin laughed in relief, and stood back up. "I am unsure. I thought that this was my apartment -" she yawned - "But it is yours and -" she yawned again - "Mine is not here. If I woke you up..." She thought of the hood...no one would sleep in it, fitting garment for a ceremony... "Or... otherwise disrupted your routine, I regret that..."
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Primordial Luxa
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Founded: Oct 30, 2012
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Primordial Luxa » Sat Aug 08, 2015 3:49 pm

Primordials anger at Hollows last retort eclipsed the rage he had felt at the rest of her insults and sins, partially because it resonated so truly with him and reflected with him much more than he was comfortable with. He stood up throwing a film of protective energy around his body as he did so, it was a gelatinous mass of pure force which reflected Hollows next strike. It hurt him but not physically it was like a spiritual ache that radiated through his soul.

By this time Primordial use of higher realities and shunned indigo beams had begun to show its effects on the surrounding park land. Large chunks of grass where beginning to turn brown and small animals were have explosion tumors spout up randomly. The weather was also turning slightly and the clouds were growing big and darker.

However these changes were lost on Hollow who paused in her violent assault to notice them and in that moment of unfortunate distraction Primordial took his opportunity to end the fight. He reached out with his mind and grabbed hold of her liver with his dark rites and blasphemous chants, smashing the organ to paste with a single hate filled thought.

She immediately collapsed as Primordials anger turned into her pain. Her entire body screamed in agony at losing such a major organ. Primordial didn’t know how long Hollow would survive or if she would even live at all. He didn’t care, he was happy once again now that she was broken. He walked away let her bleed and suffer. He reminded himself that she and every other last thing was meaningless, him, her. He reminded himself Insidious could always make another.
Swith Witherward wrote:But I trust the people here. Well, except Prim. He has shifty eyes but his cute smile make up for it.

Monfrox wrote:But it's not like we've known Prim to really stick with normality...

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Swith Witherward
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Founded: Feb 11, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Swith Witherward » Sat Aug 08, 2015 7:20 pm

People began to scream as the wildlife around them twisted into mutated abominations, the animal's own tortured wails shrieking into the early morning air. Hollow's pained noise and her writhing didn't help the situation. Her screams came to an abrupt end, however, as a bullet pierced her brain, splattering the tissue across the grass and concrete.

A sphere descended upon Primordial, containing him. The USiPO had chosen to make its presence known.

"What the fuck is with these Luxan shitheads?" Will snarled from his vantage point in the bushes. "A goodwill event ending on a high only to be disrupted by terror. And now? Now we abs are probably fucked. Dispatch the Lads, and drum up Klaus' Men. We might need to get good people off the street."
Last edited by Swith Witherward on Sat Aug 08, 2015 8:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Swith Witherward
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Swith Witherward » Sat Aug 08, 2015 8:45 pm

John gazed at the cat. He didn't know where it came from, or what it was doing here, nor why he and Yuna were walking around in public. What he did know was that he wasn't standing duty. Zalgofests weren't an excuse. Not for someone of his lowly rank.

"I..." he began, but the words caught in his throat. Aw fuck, he was going to be in major trouble. He knew it in his very bones. "Yuna, I'm sorry, but I need to report for duty. I didn't intend to stay out this late. I was going to bring you to the Ruins before it... and now I'm late. Shit."

The young cultist brought a hand up to touch his face and felt the gas mask and helmet still firmly in place. Momentary relief flowed through him. Alright, the night wasn't a total cock up.

"I'll call you!" he backed away. "Or call me. Yeah."

John's boot tapped against the iron grate lying flush with the curb. He breathed deep, then dropped between the tiny openings to gain the tunnels below.



Alas, all good things come to an end. The pirate ship faded into the night air, the last remnants of it harmlessly passing over Scel as she trudged up Main. She stepped to the side to avoid the Raptor chicks' ship, and then continued towards the Building.

Neste picked at the edge of a bumper sticker covering her shoulder. "Zalgo is an ominous entity believed to cause insanity, death and destruction of the world. But that's not necessarily true. When summoned, he blesses drugs and drink alike, drawing the masses into revelry. No one is totally immune unless cocooned. It's not magic, but chemical potency. I'm not certain how it's done, other than two people known as Bones and Charumati usually being behind it. They summon, I think."

She laughed. "Wait until you see what happens during a genderbender. I've only witnessed one, but it was hilarious."

Scel paused outside the Building in order for pilot and cyborg to dismount. The tape capturing Neste's skin didn't make things easy, nor did she appreciate the painful way it tore from her when she attempted to move. And then it suddenly hit her: she had only two outfits to her name. One was dirty. The other was now missing. Stupid Chaos with its stupid magic. She'd need to borrow a robe off Septimus in order to go to the secondhand store after breakfast.

"I would very much like to call this a night," she gently implored Septimus. "Honestly, I was looking forward to an evening spent cuddling, and perhaps something a bit more pleasurable once we'd gone to bed. Celebration. Not peeling tape off my body at 4 AM."



Adrastus picked himself up with much effort, and then joined Dora at the mural. His eyes focused on the figures under her fingertips, and he allowed a smile to cross his lips. "I suppose those are our benefactors? Bones? Charumati? Isn't that their names?"

"I'd like to think the mural depicts what happened for real," Marcus joined Giovenith in front of the building. "If not, maybe it's inspiration to go by? There's no reason we can't take steps to see this become a reality, and now that 13's failed, we've got that chance."

A bell softly rung and Marcus sighed. It was almost time for morning ablutions. The priests of his own order would come out of their rooms and file down the hallways, hungover or not, in order to offer up their prayers. The rest would emerge a bit later to occupy the chapel. Life went on regardless of whatever transpired in the dark of night.

"Can I walk you to your room, Giovenith?" he inquired lightly. "I'm sure you'll want to get a little sleep tonight."
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Why is everyone a social justice warrior?
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Anti-intellectual elitism: the dismissal of science, the arts, and humanities and their replacement by entertainment, self-righteousness, ignorance, and deliberate gullibility.
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Giovenith
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Sat Aug 08, 2015 9:48 pm

"Sure, that is probably best," the godling agreed, taking a glance out at the sky and trying to judge the oncoming sunrise. "I think there will be a lot of work to do tomorrow. Like I said, the time to strike is now."

That and she was quite tired still from the revelry. Not to mention there was probably a lot to do here at the Observatory, and Giovenith really didn't want to step on their hospitality and get in their way. Nodding, she would follow the boy back to her given room for a good few hours of rest.

--

It took quite a bit of tedious effort to pack all of the money AND the giant-ass statue all into a hammerspace bag, but by Celestia, Willow did it. He was really starting to warm up to the nifty little magic satchel trick, and was giving serious consideration toward asking Giovenith to insert the ability into his own saddlebag. At least then he wouldn't have to constantly borrow her tools, no matter how little she minded. He'd finally gotten passed concerns and assumed it was alright to take the money and the statue, and hoping he was right, gave a casual salute to the nearby beatnik before making his way home.

These things would come in handy.
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Tiltjuice
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Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tiltjuice » Sat Aug 08, 2015 10:15 pm

Swith Witherward wrote:Adrastus picked himself up with much effort, and then joined Dora at the mural. His eyes focused on the figures under her fingertips, and he allowed a smile to cross his lips. "I suppose those are our benefactors? Bones? Charumati? Isn't that their names?"


"I think you're right."

Dora stood there for a few ticks more, and then turned. "There hasn't been any sign of them for too long. I'm sure they'll turn up eventually, though. In any case, I think I ought to get back to the Building. I have a few vices that need taking care of. Could you show me to the tunnel?"
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The BranRiech
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Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Sat Aug 08, 2015 10:25 pm

"And I'm already packed . . ." Yuna was about to say as John once more jumped off into a shadow, leaving her once more to ponder the night's events she knew so little about. At least she wasn't dressed as hilariously as some of the residents of Bielefeld scattered around her. She was far enough off to be spared the suffering of all the little animals and critters that were affected by Primordial's rage, but this also meant she had no idea why John even had to leave again.

Maybe it was for the better, if she didn't go along with him, if getting called away every time she saw him was going to be the new norm. She looked down at the baby-carriage, and looked the cat right in the eyes. "So uh . . . D-do you have a home?" She pondered.

It wasn't pressing enough, however, for Yuna to ignore the headache coming on from simply being awake for so damn long. She sighed, and waved her hand dismissively. "Ah, someone'll bring you home." She sighed, and staggered her way back to the apartment.

--

"So . . ." Drova continued on Torii's drifting off. "We should go to bed." He smirked slightly, eyes shifting around. His ears easily picked up the shrieks of the small animals, though he shook his head, wincing. "Ach." The young man sighed, looking down.

"We should go to bed, but, w-would you like to stay up with me? We can see the sunrise." He offered, reaching a hand out for her to take.

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Torsiedelle
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Founded: Dec 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby Torsiedelle » Sat Aug 08, 2015 10:34 pm

The BranRiech wrote:"So . . ." Drova continued on Torii's drifting off. "We should go to bed." He smirked slightly, eyes shifting around. His ears easily picked up the shrieks of the small animals, though he shook his head, wincing. "Ach." The young man sighed, looking down.

"We should go to bed, but, w-would you like to stay up with me? We can see the sunrise." He offered, reaching a hand out for her to take.


Torii chuckled. "Yeah, we should. I don't think it'll help, though."

the girl jumped at the sound of animals. It was sudden. What the hell? This night was getting too weird...

"See the sunrise?", She asked. The idea was....romantic, but kind of dumb, too. She shook her head, but she did end up taking the boy's hand. "I'd rather not. Actually, I need to show you some stuff. Let's go to my room, okay?"
Last edited by Torsiedelle on Sat Aug 08, 2015 10:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Highfort
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Founded: May 11, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Highfort » Sun Aug 09, 2015 2:30 am

Sentia gazed up at the gas-masked man and the cultist girl. Why they had stuck her in a baby carriage was beyond her - why she had agreed instead of clawing her way to freedom was even more perplexing. Still, she had little right to complain - carriages were more comfortable than walking, as all cats know - though she was perplexed when the carriage stopped and the masked man disappeared quickly, his scent trailing away into the curb which seemed to her a rather preposterous notion.

Offering a meow at the cultist woman, the undead cat hopped from the baby carriage before sniffing the air and following the familiar scent of Septimus - nearly masked by the unfamiliar scent of a giant beast intermingling with the scent of the lizard woman - toward the Building. She was hungry, and the bathroom required attending to. The toilet paper roll had run out.


"Blesses drug and drink?" Septimus offered a chuckle as he rubbed the back of his head, the pain now dulling as he fully woke up and slowly came back to his senses, "I'm not sure I'd call what just happened to us a 'blessing', Neste. Genderbending,though, that would be trip."

The cyborg tried to imagine himself with breasts and found that he wasn't as averse to the notion as he thought he might be. I mean, they would probably get annoying after a day or so and they'd be hell on his back, but just for the evening after a drug-crazed orgy... He always did want to feel what it was like to have melons weighing down on his chest.

Septimus ended that line of thought before it messed up his already-addled mind any further. The new representative was already drugged, he didn't need to let his imagination run free as well.

As the cyborg and his construct companion dismounted her exo, he let out a grunt of displeasure as more tape and bumper stickers ripped from his skin, leaving yet more reddened patches as they took hair with them. He was going to be extremely sore in the morning, he knew - hell, it could already be morning given how long he'd been out. If they stayed up long enough, they might be able to see the sunrise. That was romantic, right?

Neste's prodding elicited a snort from Septimus as she accurately-appraised the situation, "If it's that late, then I don't see why we can't peel off the tape and proceed with the evening's intended activities before the sun rises. Cuddling in the morning is fun, I've been told. Never experienced it myself, obviously."

As the nearly-naked duo made their way into the lobby, he offered her a grin and added, "And you still owe me breakfast, Mrs. Neste Trilb."
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Primordial Luxa
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Founded: Oct 30, 2012
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Primordial Luxa » Sun Aug 09, 2015 10:14 am

Swith Witherward wrote:People began to scream as the wildlife around them twisted into mutated abominations, the animal's own tortured wails shrieking into the early morning air. Hollow's pained noise and her writhing didn't help the situation. Her screams came to an abrupt end, however, as a bullet pierced her brain, splattering the tissue across the grass and concrete.

A sphere descended upon Primordial, containing him. The USiPO had chosen to make its presence known.

"What the fuck is with these Luxan shitheads?" Will snarled from his vantage point in the bushes. "A goodwill event ending on a high only to be disrupted by terror. And now? Now we abs are probably fucked. Dispatch the Lads, and drum up Klaus' Men. We might need to get good people off the street."


Primordials eyes widened in mild surprise as the sphere lowered over his body and he began looking around with considerable amount of anxiety. He tasted the air and pulled out a pair of Synthetic phantasm sticks in order to better analyze the surface. They would relay to him through a weak telepathic link what they figure out but in the meantime he began trying to focus on the outside of the sphere. He strained to hear what he could and see through the sphere if he could but all the while his mind was racing. Someone had killed Hollow and try as he might he felt a little disturbed by that notion. As much as he had hated her she was a Luxan and any Luxan dying was worrying.

However instead of dwelling on it he consulted his sticks before putting them away and pulling out his bag of charms and sigils. Many of them were small little tribal fetishes but others with patented OOO products that were meant to channel the mind and spirit. He rubbed them in his hand and offered some slight prayers.
Swith Witherward wrote:But I trust the people here. Well, except Prim. He has shifty eyes but his cute smile make up for it.

Monfrox wrote:But it's not like we've known Prim to really stick with normality...

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Warpspace
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Ex-Nation

Postby Warpspace » Sun Aug 09, 2015 2:09 pm

Snip again.
Last edited by Warpspace on Sun Aug 09, 2015 2:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
If we affirm one moment, we thus affirm not only ourselves but all existence. For nothing is self-sufficient, neither in us ourselves nor in things; and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed.
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The BranRiech
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Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Sun Aug 09, 2015 8:39 pm

Torsiedelle wrote:Torii chuckled. "Yeah, we should. I don't think it'll help, though."

the girl jumped at the sound of animals. It was sudden. What the hell? This night was getting too weird...

"See the sunrise?", She asked. The idea was....romantic, but kind of dumb, too. She shook her head, but she did end up taking the boy's hand. "I'd rather not. Actually, I need to show you some stuff. Let's go to my room, okay?"

"Stuff to show me?" He asked, knowing it was rude to ask too many questions before being explained to, but with the random feelings of affection, confusion, and tiredness floating around in his head, he'd dropped most of the pretense of social cues. "I'd be fine with heading back inside." He nodded. "If . . . If you can hold on, we could always fly there, though I suppose we aren't too far away, now are we?" His smile narrowed a bit, into a grin.

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Swith Witherward
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Founded: Feb 11, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Swith Witherward » Sun Aug 09, 2015 9:24 pm

Marcus brought Giovenith up the narrow stone stairs that lead to the dormitories. The whisper of robes in the passages beyond was unmistakable as they stepped through the stairwell opening and onto the main floor. The boy's hand closed around her chamber door's handle, lingering there as he waged in internal battle with common sense and etiquette. Both opponents fell to his innate mischievousness and he opened the door. His mind wasn't on the bed, however. He went to the worn cabinet occupying a tiny fraction of the room, and he pulled two red robes from it.

"Before you go to bed, I'd like to share something," he smiled as he slipped a robe on. "Just pull the hood up to conceal your face. This won't take long, I promise. Few outside my order get to experience it."

He paused at the threshold and nervously coughed. Really, he had to right to steal away any more of the godling's night. "Unless you'd rather go to sleep. I mean, I'll understand. I won't be offended or anything, I promise."



"Never?" Neste's head tilted as Septimus revealed yet another intriguing thing about himself. Or perhaps it was about his culture in general? She considered the overwhelming amount of augmentations he bore when they first met, and the state of Brutus and Cato in the tent. It would be easy to assume the cold metal drove them to avoid physical contact, or that they used it to sequester themselves from feelings, but such assumptions were based solely upon her perception of their build. Constructs, for all their displayed warmth and tenderness, were isolated because people assumed that they lacked the desire and ability to love. People were wrong. It stood to reason that she was wrong, too.

Neste smiled as she leaned towards her lover to intertwine her fingers with his. "I've never experienced it either. I can't think of anything I'd rather do right now. Well, other than remove this tape. And you'd better believe there's a good breakfast to come."

Their passage through the lobby was unremarkable save the shrill, two-toned whistle from the cultist manning the desk as they passed by. Residents were milling about, some of them still recovering their senses, but Neste paid them little mind as they sought out his apartment door. The familiar sound of his key in the lock and the welcoming scents of their previous meal as the door opened brought a shy smile to her lips.

"Once we close that door, we're no longer tool and representative. We're just us," she mused. "All our flaws and faults, and our quirks and prior misdeeds? We accept them as part of each other. We're free to simply be ourselves. Septimus, I can't begin to explain how comforting that is to me."

She turned and regarded the man wearing nothing but his own name inked on tape and paper before dropping her human guise to adopt scales. Stripping the adhesive off her skin was far less painful this way. "Shut the door, and let the world get along without us for a while. And if you step into the shower, I'll help you peel off those silly things as painlessly as possible. The hot water should help."
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Why is everyone a social justice warrior?
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like social justice mage or social justice thief?
Anti-intellectual elitism: the dismissal of science, the arts, and humanities and their replacement by entertainment, self-righteousness, ignorance, and deliberate gullibility.
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Giovenith
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Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Giovenith » Sun Aug 09, 2015 9:50 pm

Giovenith tilted her head in thought as she carefully took the robe in her hands and examined it, then looked back up at Marcus. The night was very old and she really should have been getting some sleep, but there really was no way she could just ignore the curiosity Marcus had thrown up in the air. She wanted to catch at it, but had some concerns about what the adults might say if they caught on. What if it was some really super personal priest thing? That would be disrespectful. Then again, Marcus himself was very devout, she didn't think that their infatuation was so deep that he'd throw aside his duties and loyalties just to impress her, he was better than that. So it couldn't have been too wrong, could it?

"I don't mind seeing," she finally answered, trying to wiggle her way into the red garment like a rabbit in a hole. "It's not too secret, is it? I don't want to invade."
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"Gio has said "fuck you" a few times prior in this chat.
At her phone, at a friend over the letter x, at poe's law,
at me once, at NA once, at pokemon a lot, at people
who do not like polishing rocks, at god, and I stopped
reading after page one of search results but there's two more"
—Ever-Wandering Souls

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