Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: Pas de Probleme
No worries, Eol, the muse strikes when she will. I'm not goin' anywhere, don't think anyone else is either...just post when you feel up to it. 
P.S. Try watching one of the movies or an episode of something; always helps me when I'm not in the proper Trek frame of mind-hehe.
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 16:19:00.
Edited on 2008-06-26 at 16:23:29 by Duncan74
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Topic: Add On Story. Fill in 3 words!
Subject: ...
around the farm
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 16:15:58.
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Topic: Demonic Vending Machine
Subject: Egad!
It spits out collection agents with fangs and claws.
I feed it a trombone and a walrus.
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 16:15:08.
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Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: Lalala
^ will make beautiful and stinky music.
< will play bass.
v is in charge of issuing gas masks at the concerts.
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 16:10:06.
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Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: Bzzzzzt
Granted! You do everything that is on the back burner all at once...next thing you know, you're in an asylum and your brain is short-circuited.
I wish my stimulus check would hurry up and arrive.
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 16:06:21.
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Topic: The Would You Rather Game
Subject: Nummy
Mouthful...an eyeful doesn't fill da belly.
Silent but deadly or loud and proud? Hehehe.
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 16:03:22.
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Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: Standing By
Howdy again. How we lookin' on launch?
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 15:55:04.
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Topic: Demonic Vending Machine
Subject: *sniff, sniff*
It spits out Pinocchio, smelling of fish.
I feed it Utan's caramel and a can of Easy Cheese.
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 07:00:10.
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Topic: Blatantly Obvious Lies
Subject: Bork bork bork!
It's those dang Swedes...they make the pie that are square and the cornbread that are round. Also, "pie are square" is an ancient code phrase that is used to inform others that one's spleen is inflamed.
Why are polar bears white?
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 06:56:32.
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Topic: Demonic Vending Machine
Subject: Ptooey
It spits out the blood-smeared giant spiked rock, with some sweet candied nipples still stuck to it.
I feed it a bag of Cheetos and a bottle of Mountain Dew.
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 03:36:12.
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Topic: ~Crimson Blood~
Subject: Entrance of the Hunter
He is bone-weary.
For days he has been traveling, never really continuing in a set direction, just wearily covering miles and miles of terrain as he put more distance between himself and his lifelong home...the home from which he had been forever exiled.
His heart still ripped open like a freshly-scabbed wound whenever he thought of it. For his entire life he had called the tiny village of Coldwater home; it was there he had been raised to live in harmony with nature; it was there he had learned to hunt, track, skin and otherwise make use of nature's bounty, learning never to kill merely for the sport but to nourish body and mind, taking a proper place in the natural order of things. It was there that he had learned the use of weaponry from his father, a longtime soldier, weaponsmaster. hunter and tracker. It was there that he had felt a lifetime of love and belonging, of acceptance and family, of education and skills-learning, of a happy and well-rounded life. And it was there that he found the magic within him.
He remembered the thrilling moment of discovery, when a bolt of magic fire had leapt from his fingertips one day as he was working with his father at his father's shop. To this day, he had no idea where it came from or what had triggered it. And also to this day, he had been unable to repeat it, and he had had ample time to try on this lonely journey of exile. He and his father had stared at each other, dumbfounded, as he frantically tried to reason out where the mystical display had come from. Unfortunately, that display of wild magic had been seen by townsfolk patronizing the shop, and unfortunately for him, their reaction instantly damned him. Having never seen such things in their sequestered and close-minded ignorance, the townspeople immediately denounced him as a "sorceror", a "demon", and other equally ignorant and unflattering terms. And having no desire to try and reason through what had happened, they exiled him from the village. And while his family looked on in helpless frustration, he left his lifelong home, never to return.
There was, of course, more to the story, but the daily necessities of traveling and surviving this journey, and the heartache that inevitably set in, kept his mind mostly focused on the present and possible destinations for this journey of exile.
He has now been traversing a ridgeline for a day or more when he sees a small village below him in the valley. Succumbing to a very human need for fellowship, and perhaps also feeling a sense of destiny there, he makes his way down the mountainside to the little village nestled in the valley beneath.
Nightfall has come, and in the wee hours he enters the village. Passing a small sign proclaiming the name of the village as Eurishka, he trudges down the main street and spots the inn, with the welcome and warm light pouring from its windows. He enters the inn, spots the sleeping innkeeper behind the desk, and continues through to the welcome sounds of fellowship coming from the tavern.
All conversation stops as he enters the room. The patrons see a road-weary traveler garbed in dark green animal-skin tunic and pants, knee-high leather traveling boots, brown leather vest, and various leather pouches and packs containing the necessities of foot travel and survival. They see a dark green traveler's cloak slung to the back, the unstrung bow slung across his back, and the sword strapped over the bow, along with daggers slung on each hip. They see his tall, stocky and somewhat imposing frame, the black mustache, beard, and long black hair tied back in a ponytail, and they see piercing blue eyes as he meets the wary stares with a challenging glare.
The patrons' merrymaking cautiously resumes, and he makes his way to the bar and orders a mug of ale. As he waits, he looks around the tavern and takes note of the various common-looking townsfolk, and his eyes stop as he sees the crimson glint of eyes watching him from an obviously female figure seated upon a sofa. He cannot help but wonder what she looks like underneath the hooded cloak, and since the townsfolk obviously don't want his company at their tables, he takes his ale and makes his way to the sofa, sitting down near the mysterious woman. He tips his mug in her direction, says "To the joys of travel and fellowship" in an ironic fashion, and drinks a large draught.
He doesn't know what's to come, but the feeling of destiny only gets stronger as he looks at this dark and mysterious woman.
((OOC: Guess you posted the retirement to the room while I was working on this. Feel free to backpost reactions and such. Sorry if I stepped on your storytelling toes.))
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 03:31:18.
Edited on 2008-06-26 at 09:49:18 by Duncan74
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Topic: Add On Story. Fill in 3 words!
Subject: mmmm...brains.
graze for brains,
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 01:56:19.
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Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: Boom!
^ tripped while running for cover and is well within the blast zone.
< lights the match and waits for the...ahem...end.
v sees a strange green fireworks show in the sky.
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 01:55:17.
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Topic: Demonic Vending Machine
Subject: Oy!
It spits out a burnt-out and retired Mario.
I feed it a parrot, a jug of moonshine, and a water balloon.
Posted on 2008-06-26 at 01:51:46.
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Topic: Valdary - Bardess of Bhriuthainn
Subject: Well wishes indeed.
I will indeed be praying for her. Thanks for the heads-up. I only regret that I didn't get to meet her, here or elsewhere. Shows of concern like this make me glad I found the Inn and proud to be a part of it.
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 21:19:08.
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Topic: Star Wars Trivia...Useless and Otherwise
Subject: Keep it Goin'!
C'mon, don't let this one fall by the wayside!
What was Jabba's little rat-looking crony's name?
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 20:08:06.
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Topic: The Egg Tart Game
Subject: De plane!
Fantasy Island
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 20:06:00.
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Topic: Blatantly Obvious Lies
Subject: Stealthy
Because that makes it easier to find when the plane crashes at night.
Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 20:04:27.
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Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: Hey up there!
Granted! But you have trouble finding clothes off the rack now...not many clothes made for people that are 27 feet tall.
I wish I was thinner.
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 20:01:06.
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Topic: The Egg Tart Game
Subject: Good luck!
Elmo in Grouchland
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 19:59:34.
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Topic: Add On Story. Fill in 3 words!
Subject: ...
So while the
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 19:58:44.
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Topic: The Morphing Game
Subject: Inky
Tat
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 19:57:26.
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Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: Gaseous Anomalies
^ has obviously not been around me on Mexican Food Night.
< can be the secret nerve gas weapon.
v must never feed me beans or we're all doomed.
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 19:56:04.
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Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: Rocky Horror flashback
Furter.
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 19:52:39.
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Topic: Rhyme time!
Subject: ...
Extruder.
Posted on 2008-06-25 at 19:51:34.
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