R4INBOW RUMPUS P4RTYTOWN (Capricorn ramblings )

[Sporky]

I have a double reacharound relationship with this recent weather, I swear to gog. I love it and I hate it, and it's honestly really equal both ways. It keeps flipping back and forth. IT KEEPS HAPPENING.

So, what weather am I speaking of? Well, for the past two months, we've had pretty much nothing but fog and wet and rain. Yesterday was the first actual good day we've had in those two months that wasn't just good for a few hours then overcast again.

Redrom: This weather is...authentic for here. It's what weather here in a Newfoundland outport community is supposed to be like: Fog rolling in from the ocean, foghorn going off regularly, and sky a pure grey. And I really like it, I do. It makes the bay look..beautiful, to see it through a blanket of fog. This is also good fishing weather, which means there's boats going back and forth. Both full-size fishing boats and small motorboats. It's hard to explain.

Blackrom: I HATE THIS WEATHER. Every day it's so foggy and wet and miserable and it could pour rain at any moment. D< I hate it, despite that whole spiel about it being authentic. I want nice sunny days with clear evenings perfect for walking home.


I'm very bifurcated, yes.

[Sporky]

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] began pestering apocalypseArisen [AA]--
RB: M4id of Time.
AA: hell0
RB: I'm 6oin6 to be brief with this, to minimize my imp4ct.
AA: g00d plan
AA: what d0 y0u wish t0 say
RB: Suffice it to s4y, I'm 4 doomed version of Wytmonde Herleifer, Heir of Time. 4nd you know more th4n 4nyone 4bout doomed timeline helpin6 the 4lph4.
RB: I h4ve 4 very limited knowled6e of your timelines 4nd session. I must 4sk for your 4ssist4nce. Merely obt4in the c4ptch4 code for 4n item.
AA: yes as y0ur sessi0ns her0 0f time it is y0ur duty t0 repair the timeline
AA: what w0uld that item be
RB: There should be 4 point in your timeline when you h4ve e4sy 4ccess to your Hero of Sp4ce's up6r4ded ch4ins4w.
RB: Even if you merely 4sk HER for the c4ptch4 code.
AA: i supp0se this timeline is already d00med there w0uld be n0 p0int in n0t asking her
RB: Th4nk you.
AA: 0r i c0uld simply take the item remember the c0de and give it back
AA: i will d0 that yes
RB: Whichever you prefer.
RB: If I m4y r4mble while you do so, it's odd th4t 4 ch4ins4w be the item I spe4k. No version of myself ever uses 4 ch4ins4w 4s his specibus.
RB: We 4ll stick to mcn6unkind, l4uncherkind, or 4xekind. So this is str4n6e.
RB: But I'm not 4bout to question p4r4dox sp4ce.
AA: the c0de is cH4!45aW
RB: Th4nk you very much.
AA: why exactly is this item nessecary
RB: I c4nnot reve4l th4t.
AA: 0k
RB: Th4nk you very much for your 4ssist4nce.
AA: i supp0se y0u sh0uld be taking y0ur leave then
RB: I sh4ll.
-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] ceased pestering apocalypseArisen [AA]--



And yes Xinder. This is going to happen.

[Sporky]

SO MUCH MEDDLING HOW DO YOU EVEN MEDDLE THIS MUCH MY GOG

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG]--
RB: Hum4n.
GG: hi!
RB: I will be brief.
RB: My connection with your universe is...b4sed on lo6ic th4t would confuse even 4n omniscient bein6.
GG: oh ok then dont try to explain it!!!
RB: I require your 4ssist4nce.
GG: with what???
RB: I c4n see only brief bits of your hum4n hive. 4nd it 4ppe4rs to be filled with v4st 4mounts of items ripe for 4lchemiz4tion.
RB: If you would be so kind 4s to 4ssist me, I would like some c4pch4lo6ue codes.
GG: for what?
RB: To 4ssist myself.
RB: ..Err.
RB: 4nother myself.
GG: noooooooo i mean what codes do you need????
RB: Oh.
RB: Well.
RB: I s4id I c4n see only brief bits.
RB: So you will need to 4ssist me.
GG: ok?
RB: There is 4 room in your hive with v4rious...suits of 4rmor, I believe.
RB: 4s well 4s be4st he4ds mounted on 4 w4ll.
GG: yeah?
RB: There 4ppe4rs to be the he4d of 4 l4r6e, lon6-snouted sc4led be4st. Th4t is wh4t I desire in th4t room.
RB: 4nd I 4ssure you, my interests in these will not h4rm you.
GG: ummmmm...
RB: They c4nnot, bec4use I'm in 4 different session from 4 different universe.
GG: long snouted scale beast....
GG: like
GG: a fish??
RB: No, it's not th4t. It's not the mini4ture me64lobe4st he4d.
GG: then i dont know!!
RB: Hmmm.
RB: I don't know how to describe it.
RB: It is very reptili4n. 4lmost like 4 dr46on, but not 4 dr46on.
GG: how big is it?
RB: Most of its size is in its lon6-n4rrow snout.
GG: you mean its nose???
RB: The nose 4nd mouth both stick off quite 4 w4ys.
GG: huh...
GG: is it like a snake???
RB: Wh4t's 4 sn4ke?
GG: its a long scaley creature!!!
GG: with no legs
RB: Oh, 4 slitherbe4st.
RB: No, it is not 4 slitherbe4st.
GG: oh
RB: This cre4ture 4lso h4s teeth stickin6 up p4st either of its lips 4t r4ndom interv4ls.
GG: :o
GG: how do you know what it looks like and i dont????
RB: I c4n see sc4nt bits of your hive, I h4ve est4blished.
RB: But only 4t preset times. Not re4l-time. It's like h4vin6 4 screenc4pture of 4 64me.
RB: I 4m the HEIR of Time, not the Seer.
GG: oh... well im sorry but i dont know the thing youre talking about!
RB: Nnnn6. My 4polo6ies.
RB: If I could be cle4rer, I would.
RB: ...There is 4nother one. In the room with the corpses. Ri6ht 4bout one of the doorw4ys. It st4nds 4lone, it m4y be e4sier to see.
RB: 464in, I 4polo6ize. I don't me4n to sound creepy or dem4ndin6.
GG: its ok!
RB: But yes. The room with the corpses. There's 4nother one 4bove the doorw4y, much e4sier to see.
GG: well.. im sorry but i kiiiind of cant get there right now!!
RB: Oh, sorry.
RB: Ummm..hmm.
GG: its okaaaay!!!!
RB: I'm 4 little fuzzy to the point on your timeline I'm spe4kin6 with. H4ve you be6un to 4lchemize?
GG: yeah!
RB: Excellent.
GG: im zooming around lofaf with my cool suit and i....
GG: i got a little lost
RB: Oh 6o6, I know EX4CTLY wh4t you me4n.
RB: Except I h4d this re4lly kick4ss rocket bo4rd sh4ped like 4 flyin6 win6 bomber. 4rmed with missiles. 4nd mini6uns.
GG: :o
GG: woah!
RB: I like milit4ry thin6s.
RB: Is your specibus still riflekind?
GG: of course it is!!!
GG: what else would it be?
RB: Mchn6unkind like mine?
GG: noooo still riflekind silly :p
RB: M4chine 6uns 4re better when you're 4 lousyt shot like me.
GG: well im a great shot!!!
RB: W4it 4 moment.
RB: Hmm.
RB: 4lri6ht.
RB: I prob4bly should not be doin6 this.
RB: But I'm 6oin6 to help YOU.
GG: really?
RB: You 4ttempted to 4lchemize 4 6i64ntic c4nnon, but were l4ckin6 6rist. Correct?
GG: yeah!
RB: If I'm ri6ht..
RB: 4nd unless my session's hero of Sp4ce is just te4sin6 me..
RB: You should be 6ettin6 the 4mount of 6rist necess4ry for ONE production of this c4nnon.
GG: :o
RB: I'm not sure, bec4use 4s st4ted, our connection is bo66lin6 to think 4bout.
RB: Let me know if you do.
RB: It should be 4ny moment now.
GG: like
GG: this second??
RB: Within 4 few seconds, yes.
GG: oh wow!
GG: from where???
RB: From me.
GG: :o
RB: It SHOULD be 4 direct tr4nsfer.
RB: W4it, you're nowhere NE4R your 4lchemiter, 4re you?
GG: no i said i was lost remember???
RB: 4U6H.
RB: I keep for6ettin6 th4t p4rt.
RB: Ok4y, hmm.
RB: Do you still h4ve th4t weird 6reen-ish-bl4ck-ish dress in your syll4dex?
GG: you mean my three in the morning dress????
RB: IF th4t's wh4t it is c4lled.
GG: yeah i do
RB: M4y I ple4se h4ve the code on the b4ck of its c4rd?
GG: sure but why??
RB: Unlike most trolls, I h4ve 4 sli6ht p4ssin6 interest in f4shion. But it's limited merely to sn4zzy suits. I'm just curious to see wh4t I would 6et if I were to combine th4t dress with my old pre-6od tier suit.
GG: oh ok!
RB: Th4nk you.
RB: So ye4h, the code for th4t if you're not terribly busy..
GG: oh!
GG: ok
GG: rg8eJ34m
RB: Th4nk you very much.
RB: Hmmm.
RB: The n4me is some weird l4n6u46e.
RB: M4ybe YOU would reco6nize it.
RB: Do the words 'Qu4torze sutures' me4n 4nythin6 to you?
RB: Well, 4nyw4y. Th4t's 4ll I need from you 4t the moment. If I think of 4nythin6 else, I will cont4ct you.
RB: PReferr4bly 4t 4 point on 4 timeline where you're still 4lchemizin6.
RB: F4re well, hum4n. 6ood luck with your session.
GG: oh!
GG: oh oops
GG: sorry i didnt see this
RB: It's ok4y.
RB: I'm not 4n6ry.
RB: I'm not 6oin6 to come 4nd m4chine 6un your f4ce in.
GG: no i dont know what that means though
RB: F4re well, hum4n.
GG: awww
GG: ok
GG: bye!!
-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] --

[Sporky]

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] began pestering apocalypseArisen [AA]--
RB: 4m I spe4kin6 with 4 doomed timeline?
AA: y0u are
RB: Excellent.
RB: I'd like your 4ssist4nce in helpin6 the doomed timeline of 4nother session 4id his 4lph4.
RB: By th4t I me4n help ME help MY 4lph4.
AA: i see
AA: that c0uld be c0nsidered s0mething 0f my/0ur specialty
RB: Wh4t I require is simple: The c4pch4lo6ue code of 4 few items.
RB: I could 4ttempt to do it myself by usin6 the lo6ic th4t your timeline is one of my v4rious doomed timelines, but I'd r4ther not risk it.
RB: Re64rdless. I know you 4re the M4id of Time, 4t le4st 4 doomed her. I 4m4 doomed timeline of my session's Heir of Time. We need not discuss timeline thin6s, we both underst4nd them.
AA: 0f c0urse let us get right t0 business
AA: what exactly d0 y0u need
RB: The computer used by the Heir 4pp4rent, for 4 st4rt. I do require 4 w4terproof computer.
AA: by heir are y0u referring t0 the heir 0f v0id 0r the heir 0f breath
RB: ..Err, I me4nt the Witch of Life.
RB: Heir 4pp4rent. Feferi Peixes.
AA: ah y0u mean the abdicated empress
RB: Ye4h, th4t one.
AA: let me see if i can still c0ntact her
RB: I h4ve been cont4ctin6 v4rious trolls from your session, 4nd the hum4n session you inter4ct with.
RB: I spoke with 4nother you e4rlier, in f4ct.
RB: It feels d4n6erous to slin6shot off of your session to cont4ct the hum4ns. But I do wh4t I 4m destined to.
AA: the c0de is wb1937cp and furtherm0re the empress expresses her wish that y0u will be met with f0rtune
RB: Of course she does.
AA: she tends t0 be like that as im sure y0u are aware if y0u have been c0ntacting us
RB: I h4ve only recently be6un cont4ctin6 you.
RB: But I've been sort of w4tchin6.
AA: cl0se en0ugh
RB: I 4m 4n Heir, not 4 Seer. Wh4t I know of other timelines is not re4l-time.
RB: So I've pretty much just been lookin6 4t sn4pshots 4nd cont4ctin6 you 4t wh4t I feel to be closest to the sn4pshot I w4nt.
RB: I know I risk cre4tin6 4ddition4l tribut4ries in doin6 so, but it must be done.
AA: at this p0int i think the number 0f timelines is great en0ugh that any 0ffsh00ts y0u cause are meaningless
AA: is there anything m0re i can help y0u with
AA: i have s0me time t0 kill i supp0se
RB: We both do.
RB: Me more th4n most. I'm just sittin6 here 4ctin6 4s 4 conduit between other doomeds 4nd the 4lph4.
RB: The 4lph4 is unwittin6 4t this point. We 4re tryin6 to help line4rly.
RB: Thou6h his 4nd my session pl4y out differently, both 4re equ4lly str4n6e.
AA: if i may pr0p0se a plan what y0u may want t0 d0 is create an 0ffsh00t by returning t0 the alpha line and leaving any helpful devices 0r c0des where he can find them and then attempting a return t0 the 0ffsh00t which will certainly kill y0u leaving n0 evidence y0u were ever there while an0ther 0ffsh00t c0ntinues y0ur w0rk
RB: Wh4t I pl4n to do is just th4t.
RB: Except just c4rve the codes into his respiteblock w4ll.
AA: an excellent plan i wish i had th0ught 0f it
AA: that may be suspici0us
RB: I'm no 6enius.
RB: 4nd weird shen4ni64ns 4re 4lw4ys 4 p4rt of my sessions.
RB: In mine, I struck up 4 redrom with 4 sprite from E4rth somehow. She h4s found her w4y into his, 4s 4 pl4yer no less.
RB: 4lso in mine, 4lterni4's First 6u4rdi4n forced himself to be my sprite's second prototypin6 just 4s I w4s enterin6. Th4t is why we f4iled.
RB: In his, shortly 4fter 4scension he knocks himself out 4nd le4ves the clock 6e4rs required for his time m4chine next to his computer. He THEN proceeds to do the s4me to his server, but with 4 tuxedo in lieu of more clock 6e4rs.
RB: I do not believe there will ever be 4 session in 4ny universe th4t 6oes smoothly.
RB: 4nd thou6h this m4y cre4te 4ddition4l tribut4ries, no w4r w4s ever won without c4su4lties.
AA: the very nature 0f the timeline means that eventually there will be a successful sessi0n n0 matter h0w difficult the j0urney
RB: I'm 4w4re of th4t.
RB: Which is why we e4se his journey 4lon6. 6ive him powerful we4pons 4t the st4rt, to incre4se the odds.
RB: Cre4te 4n offshoot? Just try 464in.
RB: But yes. There will 4lw4ys be 4 m4in river, no m4tter the number of tribut4ries.
AA: in any case as we 0bvi0usly understand each 0thers situati0n is there any 0ther c0des i can track d0wn f0r y0u
RB: Let me consult my dossier.
RB: The Thief's 4ncestr4l journ4l.
AA: im n0t certain i can gain access t0 that is there specific inf0rmati0n y0u need
RB: Mm, no. It w4s 4ctu4lly 4 whim.
RB: I myself found MY 4ncestor's journ4l. The l4st Fusilier 6r4ndus, 4rmorb4ne. I w4s curious to see wh4t would h4ppen if both journ4ls were combined.
RB: Re64rdless. 6ive me 4 moment to think 464in.
RB: I need to f4shion some sort of w4ter-pressure resist4nce 4rmor for the 4lph4. So he c4n explore the se4 floor of his l4nd. 4ny ide4s on how to 6o 4bout it?
AA: i have an idea wait 0ne m0ment while c0nsult with my surviving teammates
RB: Th4nk you.
AA: the heir and the sylph have put their heads t0gether and c0me up with s0mething that sh0uld w0rk
RB: Your Sylph? The f4shion 4ppreci4tor?
AA: i ap0l0gize f0r the c0l0ur but she is like that s0metimes
AA: yes that 0ne
RB: I enjoy 4 sn4zzy suit sometimes.
AA: IR0846NM
RB: Th4nk you very much.
AA: it sh0uld be suitable under extremely high pressure but make sure t0 include a warning n0t t0 wear it ab0ve sea level 0r the l0w pressure c0uld cause the suit t0 crumple and w0und him
RB: I'll le4ve 4 note.
RB: So f4r, I've 64thered your Sylph's up6r4ded ch4ins4w, the hum4n witch's 'three in the mornin6' dress 4nd combined it with 4 tux to m4ke 4 bri6ht 6reen tux c4lled 'Qu4torze sutures', 4nd now divin6 4rmor for him.
RB: I c4nnot think of 4nythin6 else. If I DO, thou6h, I sh4ll cont4ct....likely 4nother you.
AA: yes as i will be dead in appr0ximately 20 minutes
RB: It's been ple4s4nt. Th4nk you for your 4ssist4nce. 4LL of you.
AA: but im sure if y0u explain y0urself i will be happy t0 help again
AA: g00d luck and g00d bye
RB: 6ood bye.
-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] ceased pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] --

[Sporky]

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]--
RB: Hum4n.
TG: sup
RB: 4t wh4t point on your timeline 4m I spe4kin6 with?
TG: far enough to say i cant tell you anymore than that
RB: I know ex4ctly wh4t you me4n.
RB: So I will be brief to minimize my imp4ct on your timeline.
RB: I require your 4ssist4nce, simply in the form of c4pch4lo6ue codes.
TG: what do you want
RB: 4re you still in possession of your blizz4rd m4chete?
TG: yeah
RB: M4y I h4ve the code, ple4se?
TG: dont know man
RB: Is there 4 re4son why?
TG: just not sure about giving awesome hardware to aliens i hardly know
RB: I underst4nd th4t you're hesit4nt.
RB: I'm 4skin6 nicely, here. Help 4 doomed help his 4lph4.
RB: 4s 4 fellow Hero of Time, you know wh4t it's like to h4ve to mess 4bout with timelines.
TG: 1c35n0Op
RB: One more thin6: Th4t c4pch4lo6ue c4rd c4mer4.
TG: cF87tHE
RB: Th4nk you for your 4ssist4nce.
RB: 6ood luck with your session.
TG: same to you
RB: F4rewell, hum4n.
-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]--

[Sporky]

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] began pestering arachnidsGrip [AG]--
AG: .
AG: Whaaaaaaaat?
RB: M4rquise Spinneret Mindf4n6, Thief of Li6ht. 6reetin6s.
RB: You do not know me. You will never know me. Bec4use I'm not 4 p4rt of your session.
RB: However.
RB: I've beenh observin6 your S6rub session, 4s 4 possible w4y to help my own.
AG: Soooooooo?
RB: 4nd truly, if you 4re the 6re4test pl4yer in your own, you could find it in yourself to help 4nother session? You would be 6iven full credit, of course.
AG: Hmmmmmmmm.
AG: You realize that I can't do that, riiiiiiiight?
RB: Others h4ve done so.
RB: The Time pl4yer of your session h4s been helpful.
AG: You're a troll, riiiiiiiight?
RB: 4 slud6y 6reenblood, yes.
AG: Then I dou8t she's 8een helping you.
AG: Pro8a8ly the opposite, even!
RB: I h4ven't even s4id wh4t help I 4sk for.
AG: What kind of help?
RB: It's obvious wh4t help I seek. There's only ONE w4y th4t I could be holdin6 your Sylph's Demonb4ne R46ripper ri6ht now.
RB: C4pch4lo6ue codes, M4rquise. C4pch4lo6ue codes.
RB: Th4t is 4ll I seek.
RB: I 4m 4 doomed timeline, helpin6 my 4lph4 succeed by stren6thenin6 him.
AG: There's just oooooooone pro8lem with that plan.
RB: Let me 6uess.
RB: Let me wr4ck my inferior dumb brute thinkp4n here.
RB: You're 6oin6 to s4y th4t yours is the only S6rub session th4t succeeds?
AG: Yes!!!!!!!!
RB: Then wh4t's the h4rm?
RB: I'm doomed to f4il 4nyw4y.
AG: That's the thing!
AG: Why help you iiiiiiiif
AG: I could do the opposite?
AG: And get the same result? ::
RB: 4s I die, I would sin6 the pr4ises of she who helped me despite knowin6 my f4te. You would h4ve 4ll the reco6nition.
RB: 4ll of it.
AG: How a8out you take this?
AG: 88888888
RB: Knowin6 you, it's prob4bly 4 f4lse code.
AG: Not exaaaaaaaactly.
AG: It's my dice! Sort of.
AG: 8ut not really.
RB: El4bor4te, se46rift.
AG: Why should I?
RB: If I 4sk nicely?
AG: No.
AG: It'll 8e funnier when you find out for yourself. ::
RB: Very well.
RB: Let me just run this throu6h.
RB: Dice.
RB: Unench4nted dice.
AG: ::
RB: I didn't even W4NT your dice.
RB: But they're still blue, so...blue tuxedo, here I come?
RB: Well this...
RB: This tuxedo smells like s4lt w4ter.
RB: Look, I c4me to you bec4use your hum4n 4cqu4int4nce John s4id you could 6et me the code to 4 6od tier hoodie if I w4nted.
RB: Well, one th4t's not my own.
RB: 4re you 6oin6 to help me? It's just 4 code, wh4t h4rm could it do?
RB: It's not like I c4n cross sessions, hunt you down, 4nd m4chine 6un your f4ce in.
AG: Pfffffffft, like you could anyway.
AG: What do you want a hoodie for?
RB: I'm curious 4bout somethin6.
RB: 4nd 6od knows the milit4ry h4s ever been 4ble to resist tempt4tion with firepower.
AG: It's not like the hoodie could do anything.
RB: H4ve YOU ever 4lchemized 4 6od tier hoodie into 4nythin6?
AG: The hoodie is just a cool outfit!
RB: I h4te my hoodie.
RB: It's why I switched by to my tuxedos 4s soon 4s possible.
RB: Oooh, look 4t me bein6 dumb 4nd likin6 f4shion. Slud6eblood is dumb! Bi6 dumb sn4zzy brute! Bluh bluh!
AG: Well if you're going to say it that way. ::
RB: You c4n't deme4n someone with 4 lurkin6 inferiority complex. I'm 4lre4dy doin6 it myself.
RB: Would you ple4se 6ive me the code to your hoodie?
AG: Not anymore!
AG: L8er! :::;D
-- arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased pestering recoillessBifurcation [RB]--

[Sporky]

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] began pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] at 01:16 --
RB: M4id.
RB: ...Th4t m4y h4ve been rude. So inste4d, I 4sk if I'm spe4kin6 with 4 doomed timeline or the 4lph4.
AA: brevity is fine
AA: c0ntinue
RB: In short, I'm 4 doomed version of my session's Time pl4yer. Heir of Time. Wytmonde Herleifer.
RB: I h4ve cont4cted other doomed timelines of yourself to help me help my 4lph4.
RB: Throu6h c4pch4lo6ue codes.
AA: and n0w y0u need help fr0m me
RB: Yes.
RB: We4pons belon6in6 to your co-pl4yers.
RB: Sometimes just their 4ttire.
AA: alright but be swift i have a vital task t0 c0mplete
AA: th0ugh i supp0se if i d0nt it will just be an0ther branch
RB: No w4r w4s ever won without c4su4lties.
AA: yes but id rather n0t be a casualty in y0ur war im already en0ugh in mine
RB: The Ro6ue's h4t. The Kni6ht's re6isickle. One of the M4NY broken 8 b4lls of the Thief. 4nd the Troll Indi4n4 Jones poster from your former respiteblock.
AA: as i am the 0nly surviv0r i suspect m0st 0r all 0f th0se will be difficult
RB: I implore you.
RB: I would not h4ve 4sked if I did not think they were 4tt4in4ble.
RB: W4it.
RB: Only survivor in your timeline?
AA: yes
RB: H4d your prince 6one on his r4mp46e?
AA: 0nly myself the heir and the mage made it in 0n this timeline and they died s00n after
RB: Noted.
RB: WHERE 4re you, currently?
AA: 0n the mages planet hence why y0u see the difficulty in 0btaining y0ur items
AA: 0ne 0f which d0esnt even exist 0n this timeline
RB: 4h.
RB: I'm 6uessin6...the re6isickle is the one you me4n?
AA: yes
RB: Look 4t me, I'm psychic.
AA: ir0nically it has pr0ven the easiest c0de t0 find
RB: ...I hhonestly did not see th4t comin6.
AA: s95n32kr
RB: Th4nk you.
AA: i just br0ught it t0 myself with the instructi0n 0f giving it t0 y0u
RB: Nor surprised.
RB: I c4n perh4ps expect other such thin6s.
RB: I h4ve 6iven up hope on wh4t I once sou6ht most, thou6h.
AA: and what w0uld that be
RB: It's prob4bly the sin6le most difficult thin6 to obt4in.
RB: The Thief's 4ncestr4l journ4l.
RB: One or two of you stopped spe4kin6 to me 4t its mere mention.
AA: i see
AA: i may be able t0 help y0u
RB: ...Ple4se tell me you're serious.
AA: c0ntact me ten minutes in the future
RB: I sh4ll.
RB: I h4ve w4ited the 4lloted time.
AA: alright i have retrieved the j0urnal fr0m the heirs planet
RB: The Heir?
RB: Why would he h4ve it?
AA: the thief up0n realizing she w0uld n0t survive gave her friend and neighb0r p0ssessi0n 0f the j0urnal and her weap0nry
AA: unf0rtunately it did n0t d0 him much g00d
RB: Very well.
RB: I bet he crushed the dice.
AA: the c0de is 0bscured and i d0 n0t have a laserstati0n 0f my 0wn
RB: ....D4mn it.
AA: what i can d0 f0r y0u is captchal0gue the card and send y0u that assuming y0u have a stati0n
RB: I do.
RB: On 4 rel4ted note. It m4y or m4y not interest you to know th4t when I de4lt directly with the Thief, she 64ve me her dice.....sort of.
AA: very well the c0de f0r the card with the c0de is i123t13n
RB: Th4nk you very much.
AA: interesting im sure theyve c0me in very useful
RB: No.
RB: They 4re unench4nted.
AA: im s0rry that was an attempt at a j0ke
RB: It w4s my f4ult, not yours.
RB: I believe myself to be either 4utistic or just dumb.
RB: S4rc4sm tends to fly over my horns.
RB: But they did h4ve ONE use.
RB: The tuxedo I now we4r w4s m4de from them.
AA: that s0unds like interesting cl0thing
RB: Despite the dice not bein6 ench4nted, it smells of s4lt w4ter.
RB: I sh4ll m4ke 6re4t use of this journ4l.
RB: I...feel tempted to rub it in the f4ce of 4 Thief.
RB: It m4y m4ke her thinkp4n explode.
AA: that w0uld be unkind
RB: The M4rquise 4nd my own 4ncestor did not 6et 4lon6.
RB: Se46rifts 4nd the milit4ry r4rely do.
RB: Th4nkfully it w4s more of 4 pl4tonic, job-rel4ted h4tred.
RB: But I r4mble. Few RE4LLY c4re 4bout 4ncestry.
AA: im s0rry i have t0 g0 as with0ut the heir perf0rming peri0dic maintenance this b0dy is breaking d0wn and i have a r0le t0 fulfill
AA: i h0pe y0u find the rest 0f y0ur items
-- apocalypseArisen [AA] ceased pestering recoillessBifurcation [RB]


No explanation for the shifting colors.

Xinder, you maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad?

[Sporky]

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB]--
RB: Hum4n.
EB: yeah, that's what i am
EB: got a problem with it?
RB: No, 4ctu4lly.
EB: good!
RB: I don't know why I 6reet you 6uys like th4t.
EB: i don't either
RB: I'm sorry.
RB: Hello, John.
EB: it's fine
EB: hi!
RB: I'm 4 troll. But not of the session you're most f4mili4r with.
EB: i had a feeling
RB: Bec4use of this, my connection with your universe is....b4sed on lo6ic th4t would confuse even 4n omniscient bein6.
EB: humans don't usually greet eachother like that
EB: you trolls can get pretty confusing
RB: 4s c4n you hum4ns.
EB: can we?
EB: seemed pretty sane to me
RB: Well, you're completely 4lien to us.
EB: ditto
RB: So there you 6o.
RB: But John, I need your help. Th4t's why I cont4cted you while you're on your S6rub pl4net.
EB: what do you need?
RB: C4pch4lo6 codes.
EB: for what item?
RB: The items I seek 4re in your hive, know th4t first.
EB: well that's a little vague
EB: there's a lot of things in my house
RB: OH, I c4n be more specific. I just w4nted you to know to 6o there.
EB: luckily, i'm there now, what do you need
RB: I c4nnot see your 'house' in re4l time. I'm lookin6 4t wh4t 4mounts to 4 sn4pshot from the p4st, so thin6s m4y be somewhere else.
EB: just tell me what you need and i'm sure i can find it
RB: It's the fi6urine of 4 subju66ul...erm..clown themed killer from one of your hum4n movies.
EB: really?
EB: why would you need that?
RB: I c4n't tell you. Timeline re4sons.
RB: Other th4n th4t everythin6 I 4sk for, I will 4lchemize to 4ssist my 4lph4 self.
EB: ooooooookayyyyyyyy
RB: You've been spe4kin6 with the Thief of Li6ht quite 4 bit.
EB: the code is...
EB: H0nKh0nk
RB: Th4nk you.
EB: no problem!
RB: Spe4kin6 of the Thief. It's too b4d you l4ck the device for re4din6 obscured c4rd codes. I'd 6ive you 4 c4rd cont4inin6 4 c4rd cont4inin6 her 4ncestor's journ4l. I'm sure it would be the ultim4te pr4nk to quote it 4t her.
RB: Oh well.
EB: i think dave might have one of those
EB: i'll ask him later
RB: 4lri6ht.
RB: Your respiteblock next, ple4se.
EB: ok, what now?
RB: Wh4t is the condition of the movie poster in which 4 6roup of hum4ns fi6ht p4r4norm4l entities?
EB: what, my ghostbusters poster?
EB: it's fine
RB: If you would be so kind.
EB: Ok,just as sec
EB: S71M3R99
RB: Th4nk you.
RB: Your willin6ness to cooper4te is refreshin6.
EB: why do you need these things anywayd
EB: *anyways
RB: 4ll I c4n tell you is th4t they're helpin6 the m4in, not doomed me.
EB: ok, whatever man
RB: Th4nk you, John.
EB: as long it's for a good cause at least
RB: I'll le4ve you 4lone now.
RB: Th4nks for helpin6.
EB: no problem!
RB: 6ood luck with your session.
-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]--



He's going to have ALL the tuxedos.

ALL OF THEM.

[Sporky]

Just putting them here so I'll always have a link. =3

Wytmonde's sprite, in various outfits. From left to right:

-His standard.

-Running All The Numbers

-Running All The Numbers, with jacket

-Jade's Three in The Morning dress alchemized with Wytmonde's Eighth Doctor suit FANCY SUIT

[Sporky]

I'm bored, so here's a snippet of my sea-dweller Nazi and his matesprit flirting.

-- eugenicOath [EO] began pestering wrathfulDuchess [WD]--
EO: Hello, darling
WD: AARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLL <3
EO: zomeone iz HappY~ <3
WD: Mmmhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
WD: So, is your handle EugenicOath or EugenicsOath? Wanna get the right one on my liiiiiiist
EO: eugenicOath
WD: Kkkkkkkaaaaaaaaaaaay
EO: mY apologiez for anY inconziztenciez, vicerine
EO: You knov, i reallY cannot ztrezz Hov mucH of a JOY it vaz to find zomeone zo HigH in tHiz part of alternia
EO: ezpeciallY a cHarming little zuccubuz zucH az Yourzelf~
WD: You're toooooooo kind
EO: i zpeak onlY tHe trutH, nerina
WD: Heeee <3
EO: tHoze ebonY lockz, tHe glizteniing razorz Hidden beHind lipz tHat i zvear i Hear calling to me everY time i zee tHem
EO: You are a true vizion, nerina
EO: do not EVER let anYone tell You otHervize
WD: glub
WD: glubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglub
WD: glubglub
WD: glub
EO: You're adorable vHen You're HornY, dear
EO: tHe blood ztaining Your zlate greY cHeek reallY bringz out Your eYez
WD: glubglubglu
WD: bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb<3
EO: Hov i long to Hold You, preciouz
EO: everY little zqueal, everY little zHriek of pleazure iz muzic to me
-- wrathfulDuchess [WD] has become AFK: Aloooooooone time --


I only own Armel, eugenicOath. :3 Nerina, wrathfulDuchess (Yes she is a vicerine/vicereine and he a viceroy despite the tag) belongs to my moirail. <> I happen to think they're an amazing couple.


Aaaaaaaaaaand now it gets worse. :3


-- wrathfulDuchess [WD] has returned to her keyboard --
WD: Hey Armel, who's this DOUCHEBAF callousJudicator trolling me?
EO: i Have no idea, dearezt
WD: FRUCKIING
WD: IDIOTIC
WD: SLUDGEBLOOD
WD: GONNA
WD: CUKl
WD: TO DEATH
WD: AND THEN
WD: BACK TO LIFE
WD: JUST SO I CAN CULL AGAIn
WD: GLUBGLGUBFLGUIBGLUBGLUBGLIUBGLUGBLGUBGLUB
EO: oooo, tHere'z Your angrY face again <3
EO: Yez, nerina
EO: get angrY
EO: get furiouz
EO: zHov tHem vHo iz tHe bozz
EO: i do zo adore You vHen You're angrY
EO: cover Yourzelf in tHeir filtHY blood
EO: zo i can Have an excuze to give You a tongue batH <3
EO: and i knov tHe vicerine lovez Her tongue batHz, nein?
WD: Mmmhmmmm
EO: oH Yez, zHe lovez tHem
WD: glub
EO: lovez being coddled in tHe loving armz of Her darling viceroY
EO: come Home a dirtY girl, nerina
EO: be a filtHY, filtHY little fizH
EO: zo i can clean You <3
WD: glubglubglub
EO: Hnnn, migHt i azzume tHat You're not fullY clotHed rigHt nov?
WD: Yglubeglubs
EO: naugHtY nerina
EO: verY verY naugHtY
WD: glubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglub
WD: glubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglub
WD: glubglubglub
WD: glubglubglubglubglub
WD: glub
WD: glubglub
WD: glubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglubglub
WD: glub
EO: nov darling, control Yourzelf
EO: You don't vant to be all glubbed out before i get a trY at You, do You?~
WD: glub
-- wrathfulDuchess [WD] has gone AFK: glub --

[Sporky]

Ladies and gentlemen, ferrets and owls...behold! What follows is actually NOT a short story! It's actually an RP post. :3 The opening post to my Mindfang-Karkat RP! Ignore the word and spelling errors, because they happen occasionally, and just feast your eyes on a badass entrance for Spinneret Mindfang! <3

---

Spinneret was silent as she stood there, her frame unmoved despite the gentle sway of her ship. In silence, her ship slowly moved forward. Oh, the sails had been pulled down, the canvas held tight by yard-lines and pins. By muscle alone, that ship slowly progressed; Oarmen left to silently labor, keeping pace through sheer experience and experience alone. Yet, there would always be the faintest of noises. The occasional groan of the ship as waves licked against its sides; The rare whistle of the sails and its rigging as a breeze played across the deck; The muffled cough of a crewman; The silent hiss of a foreman demanding silence. Yet, it was noise all but lost upon nature's orchestra. The sound of lapping waves; The beasts of both the land and the sea as they bellowed and screeched; The wind as it played across the beach and shaggy trees. An orchestra that slowly brimmed with noise as the night crept onward, as so damned and hated a sun slowly slithered underneath the distant horizon.

Yet, upon so blinding a horizon laid so dreadful a sight. A sight that could invoke both awe and fear within the hearts of mortals. A sight of fabled history and bloody passage and trade. A sight of utmost horror and beauty. Oh, ever so slowly, a fleet emerged from the blinding shadow of the Alterian sun. A fleet headed by so bold; so dreadful a flagship; The Arachnid's Grasp. With a wisp of delight painted across sapphire lips, Spinneret eyed her darling prize. Oh, Spinneret eyed so darling, so quaint, a gathering of lawn rings. It was a small community by any definition. A community isolated upon so distant a beach; To far to call for assistance or aid from anything more than a passing ship. It was a village, if it could even be called that, that normally the captain of that fleet would of simply overlooked. So humble, so pathetic, a settlement that it hardly deserved so much as a moment's attention from her sole, sapphire, eye.

Yet, Spinneret couldn't help but softly laugh as she glanced anew at so horrid a prize. Upon so truthful, so hurtful, an instrument. Upon a prize that laid nearly knocked aside and from her grasp. Upon a prize she silently admired as her left hand, a hand of flesh and bone, slowly lifted to her right eye; Teasing so black a material that she slowly shifted aside. Only to reveal an eye ravaged by so vibrant, so luminous, a sight. Yet, it was an eye salvaged but by science's bloody hand. By debts as thick as blood; And by a gift from so depressed, so unappealing, a joke. For a moment, so darkened and ravaged an eye stared upon so gilded, or perhaps gelded, a jewel. Yet, it was something she stared upon for but a moment before shifting that patch into place anew; Hiding so scarred, so artificial, an eye even as metallic lengths slowly shifted that orb, returning it to its velvet prison held by a darling aide. "Your orders, my Mistress?" the aide questioned.

And, yet, Spinneret was quiet as she teased that patch, as she adjusted it and fitted it over so horrid a scar. A silence that permeated her as she slowly moved forward, as she abandoned the helm and its precious wheel. "Mistress?" the aide, a young man, questioned. "Your orders?" he continued, an edge of desperation sinking into his voice as his eyes shifted from that woman and onto so unimpressive a goal. What was she thinking by ordering them here? To this humble gathering of lawnrings? Just where was the treasure she had promised? The source of such endless wealth and potential? "Mistress?" he questioned again, that edge of desperation shifting into exhaustion and anger, as he watched Marquise Mindfang descend to that ship's deck and stand among her laboring crew. Just what was she thinking to order them here? Had she finally lost her mind? Or, was this but a step to such grandeur and wealth? Oh, the aide could only pray that was the case as he stared upon that humble village.

"Be quiet." Spinneret finally replied as she eyed that damnable town. As that wisp of delight slowly faded, as a creeping fear strangled her mirth. Had that damnable ball finally lied? It had promised her wealth. It had promised her success. It had promised her happiness! Just what was that orb doing? Had it finally lied? Perhaps rejected her? For a moment, Spinneret stood silent as her tongue flickered forward, as that forked, azure, tongue came to trace her lips. No, the orb was not wrong. It had never been wrong. It had told her how to get exactly what she needed. How to break the expatriate and bring his might into her fold. How to manipulate and tease so ambitious, so bloodthirsty, a man into doing exactly what she desired. How to kill so damned a beast; To end so foul a threat and salvage her fleet. To avoid utter damnation and to escape a man whom would call her a protege. No, the orb was not wrong. Yet, for a moment, Spinneret was left to fear something else. That, forever, so mighty a treasure, so grand a tool, had been knocked from her grasp. Removed from her web for the rest of time, left to mock her with its endless knowledge.

The faintest layer of sweat had come to caress that frame; To leave so oiled an appearance upon her flesh as her skin flushed. As so soft, yet so vibrant, an azure tinged her cheeks; As so thin a ring of sapphire was left to encircle her right eye. The thought terrified her and left her to softly shudder despite the warmth of that summer's night. "We attack." she whispered, her voice softened with doubt. It was a noise that left her cheeks to flare all the brighter. She was Spinneret Mindfang. She was Marquise Spinneret Mindfang! She was the Thief of Luck! She was the Thief of Light! How dare she doubt in herself. She held all the luck, all of it! How would she fail? No, she had not read that damnable orb wrong. No, she had found what it had foretold and followed its map without fault. She would find her happiness within that gathering of pathetic lawn rings. She would. "We attack!" she shouted, her voice emboldened by her own anger as she turned upon her heel. As she brought that eye's gaze to burn into her aide. "Signal the ships to maintain silence! Gather a landing crew and prepare for assault! We can't risk a volley for fear of damaging our prize! Tell the Spider's Breath and the Black Spider to arrange themselves for volley, however. To fire upon any clusters of defense yet to avoid the lawn rings at all costs!" she yelled.

In silence, that fleet approached. Yet, in chaos, that fleet attacked. A barrage of cannon fire rippled from the coastline. Only for explosions to resound from that community's pier as wood and steel splintered, leaving fishing ships to sputter and sink as that barrage continued. As it attempted to draw away that community's focus upon those approaching longships. To draw their eye away from the true threat. But, oh, there was little for that community to do. Their response was slow, it was haggard and confused. The privateers, or pirates within this case, had been ever so horribly just within their suspicion. Oh, the town was almost pathetic within its defense. Little more than a few trolls rushing from their lawn rings, weapons in hand while their lusus flew, skittered, or ran alongside. Yet, with the dawn upon the horizon and casting those ships within so blinding a light, there was little that could be seen. Or shot at, even if they had a true marksman among their ranks. Yet, a carefully placed shot was enough to scatter that group and leave a lusus, a crustacean of some kind, split in half.

Chaos dominated the beach. The smell of gunpowder, potassium, and such false, staunch, chemicals was left to linger upon the air. Barely rising above the scent of burning wood, charred and burnt flesh, and such metallic smelling blood. Oh, chaos dominated the beach! Like a mad man it danced and twirled, guided by an unseen hand that slowly approached the beach. The most loyal and honorable of lusus was left to go wild; Claiming their beloved charges within claw, pincer, and fang. Tearing to bits those they once loved as so fey, so wild, so tenacious a manner seized their bodies as their eyes, ever alert and conscious, watched in horrified amazement as their bodies twitched and jerked to a siren's call. As trolls, once stable and proud, turned upon one another with so horrid a lust.

Oh, there was hardly a need for Spinneret and her men to land upon the beach. In but a few minutes, that town's population has been decimated. The lawn rings left untouched even though their inhabitants laid torn and slaughtered. With an arrogance that bordered upon the pompous, those privateers entered the village. Idly moving in with weapons sheathed or tucked away while even the most diligent of warriors did little more than hold their weapons. Yet, at their head slowly came so dashing a woman. A woman whose eye laid focused and keen. A woman whose lips laid ever so stern as she moved upon the edge of those lawn rings; Booted feet easily moving across bloodied sand and tender grass. Stepping above running puddles of milling red and brown blood. "Enter the lawn rings and butcher anyone within." she softly commented, her voice taut, echoing an untold stress. "Do not destroy or damage anything within, however. What we're looking for is fragile," she lied, "and should you break it, you will be killed." she tautly cooed.

Only to shift her pace, wordlessly moving around so gargantuan a beast. A crustacean of swords who bleed such red, vibrant, blood from a single, fatal, wood. Oh, the crab had taken a cannon's ball directly in the gut only for the fragments to rage havoc upon its soft innards, leaving so bloody a mess, so gory, a mess to dribble from that cracked and uneven hole. "I take that back," she commented as she stepped around that foul smelling beast, "do not kill any trolls or lusus you find unless they are a direct danger. Bind them and bring them to me. Now go." she commented as she strode into the center of that gathering of lawn rings. Towards a fountain that may of once stood as a town center of sorts for those pathetic villagers. A gathering ground for young trolls to meet; To, with great shame and pity, to hold hands and whisper their live. For rivals to fight and rave. For the closest of moirails to play and talk. Yet, now, it laid a watery grave for a small troll; A brown blood who torso laid underneath that muddied fountain's depths while his bottom half laid, roughly torn, at the fountain's base. Had the troll dared pray for a moment's salvation? Oh, Spinneret couldn't help but roll her eyes as she stepped away from that fountain. Just what was that troll thinking? To pray to some unseen deity?

All there was, within life, was the hard truth. Reality. Genetics and science. There was no grand miracle behind their creation. "And what do you four call yourselves doing?" she sharply commented as she turned, coming to face that crew of men whom lingered around her. Oh, it was obvious enough what was they trying to do. To protect her. To guard her. To insure she laid safe from an attacker. "I said search!" she hissed as her hand moved to her hip, whisking that dragon headed cane from her waist. "Now get to it." Spinneret hissed as she stood there, glowering upon the men whom rushed off to their tasks, bursting into lawn rings to continue their search. Yet, with a soft sigh, Spinneret turned and cast an eye upon another lawn ring. Upon a haphazardly built building of countless slopes and landings. Whoever had built it was a fool, in her opinion. They had wasted so many materials for seemingly pointless patios.

At least, it provided her an easy ascent. Only a soft click, a metallic sound, was left to warn of her sudden ascent before that roar begin. As she suddenly took off, her boots blaring with fire and light, as she shot upwards before silently landing. Her boots landing upon the cool enamel off the lawn ring without a sound as her hands idly unsheathed that cane's sword, leaving the cane entwined within metallic fingers as her own encircled that sword's handle. Only for her to move forward, easing that glass panel of a door aside as she moved into that lawn ring and into so... horribly decorated a room. Movies posters? That was the troll decided to declare whom he was to the world? Oh, what was she dealing with? So pathetic grubling's room? Either a grub or a geek, one. For a moment, Spinneret couldn't help but roll her eye as she moved forward. As she moved past posts of Troll John Cusack and Troll Adam Sandler, past an proper cocoon, and towards a computer. Hardly impressive in model or year... hardly the type of thing a programmer would possibly try and use. Oh yes, she was dealing with a pathetic grub's lawn ring... Hardly her goal. And for a moment, Spinneret paused as she stood there, feeling that momentary fear, that momentary regret, once more as she feared she had read that orb wrong...

[Sporky]

Adult Wytmonde time!

---

Your name is WYTMONDE HERLEIFER, but now they call you STEELEYE.

You wanted to MAKE SOMETHING OF YOURSELF when you reached ADULTHOOD. You joined the MILITARY like all young adults do, full of HOPE AND CONFIDENCE that you were going to LIVE UP TO YOUR ANCESTOR, the mighty GENERAL ARMORBANE. But no. Your FILTHY MUTANT FELDGRAU BLOOD was even more hated in your generation than in his, and you were pretty much told you wouldn't ever amount to anything.

But you are QUITE STUBBORN, and so you pushed yourself. Despite being MOCKED REGULARLY, you pushed yourself to your limits to succeed. You became FOOLHARDY, and you TOOK NEEDLESS RISKS just to prove yourself. It should have earned you MEDALS. You should have been a HERO. But you are a filthy mutant, and you were regularly denied the praise you sought.

However, someone high up in the military thought it would be A FUN GAME to gather MUTANTS as well as TROUBLESOME LOWBLOODS into a single unified force, to WATCH THEM TEAR THEMSELVES APART, since pathetic lowbloods can do NOTHING BUT SQUABBLE...or so they thought.

But they thought wrong. Under you, they UNIFIED, brothers and sisters that the empire thought trash. As another SICK JOKE, your kismesis, ARMEL SIGALIT, who held the position of ADVISORAMPAGER to HER IMPERIAL CONDESCENDENCE, suggested that your unified force become PRIVATEERS for the empire, handling jobs and taking care of threats TOO EMBARRASSING for the military proper.

You took to the role with GREAT GUSTO, taking command OF THE SMALLEST BATTLESHIP THE EMPIRE WOULD SPARE, which you christened THE FIST OF LUTHER. Your crew respected you. You were their BROTHER IN ARMS. You all BLED TOGETHER, WEPT TOGETHER, FOUGHT TOGETHER. Most would grow bitter at basically being the empire's janitor, but no. You are a patriot, the fire in your belly swelled greatly.

You earned the title of STEELEYE in battle, after an ENCOUNTER WITH A WHITE PHOSPHORUS GRENADE, which BURNED THE LEFT HALF OF YOUR FACE and made you completely lose sight in your left eye. But you would have none of this, and you had AN ADVANCED CYBERNETIC EYE crafted to replace your useless orb. Thought it is much more ADVANCED than PLAIN STEEL, the title stuck.

Your are now 15 SWEEPS OLD, and YOU ARE IN YOUR PRIME. Your BRAVERY and COURAGE have earned you the tiniest modicum of RESPECT and ACCEPTANCE. You are even allowed to show up at SOCIAL GATHERINGS for military leaders, though it's STILL QUITE OBVIOUS that they look down on you.

You still claim MCHNGUNKIND as your strife specibus, and your WEAPON OF CHOICE is your MG115 WARSAW, a modified MG42 that is now a LASER MACHINE GUN instead of a normal bullet type. IT is YOUR TRUSTY COMPANION, and if you didn't have it, YOU'D PROBABLY SHOOT YOURSELF.

Your trolltag is still recoillessBifurcation, and you still spe4k in 4n 4ccent th4t rin6s of 4 proud milit4ry line46e.

[Sporky]

Fire burned on the horizon, far from their camp. The fire of war..of revolution. A massive hemorebellion was taking place. The 'low' bloods had had enough, and under the leadership of the noble troll they now called The Sufferer, they had declared open war on those that considered themselves above any troll merely because of what color they bled.

But it was not just those of red, yellow, and brown blood that rebelled. No, their cause had found support all throughout the spectrum, with even some sea dwelling trolls, those that considered themselves royalty by birth joining the fight. Alternia was in an uproar, as open warfare ravaged it, claiming countless lives in the name of freedom and equality.

The troll that led this camp was one such joiner. According to the hemospectrum, he wasn't far from nobility, his dark green blood edging into teal. He had once held the rank of general of the army, and by all rights he should have been leading his men against the rebellion. But no. The patriotic fire in his belly had grown brighter at the sight of these brave trolls fighting what was originally a losing battle, eager to give their lives for what they believed in. He had joined them, taking a good many of his soldiers with him. He was no longer a general, but he was still Hardmind, and now his immunity to psionics that really belonged on a highblood was turned against their enemy, against those few of teal and blue blood that had the gift. He led his troops with the same pulchritude and ferocity that he had in the army, if not even more emboldened.

"You see th4t fire, brothers? Th4t is 4 ri6hteous fire. 4 fire of br4ve men 4nd women l4yin6 down their lives for 4 noble c4use!" He shifted atop his hoofbeast mount, and turned it around to face his troops. "They look upon us 4s toys! 4s thin6s to be pl4yed with! Even I, he w4s so very close to 'nobility', 4s they like to c4ll themselves, w4s below them! 4nd for wh4t, blood color? It m4tters not wh4t color we bleed! It m4tters wh4t's in our he4rts! TH4T is why we fi6ht, brothers! To show them th4t you should be jud6ed by the content of your ch4r4cter, not the color of your blood!"

He turned his mount back towards the fire on the horizon. His gun was drawn from his strife portfolio, and his sylladex produced a cigar, which he lit and clenched firmly between his teeth. His eyes reflected the fire that burned on the horizon, amplified it. The fire in him swelled as well, consuming his mind with thoughts of glory. "TO 4RMS, MEN! OURS IS THE FIRE TH4T WILL SCORCH THEIR HE4RTS! WE SH4LL BURN OUR RI6THEOUS FURY INTO THEIR VERY SOULS, 4ND THEY WILL KNOW TH4T WE 4RE RI6HT!"

With an inspiring roar of fury, they were off, charging to their destiny. Blood would be spilled this night, in the name of The Sufferer.

[Sporky]

The latest Homestuck update made me want to do something with Wytmonde being all existential in his new land from another session, LOSAR (Land of Statues and Rime). He's talking to tinMan, an A.I. thing he alchemized from his rocket board (Itself made from rocket...something and a model of the troll version of a YB-49), his husktop, and the poster of the troll version of the movie Stealth.

Enjoy my failing to be deep! Also too lazy to use colors here. Because I'd be doing it manually.

---

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] began trolling tinMan [TM]

[RB]: Hey, TM.
[TM]: Yes, sir?
[RB]: You're not ex4ctly sentient, 4re you?
[TM]: I am not, no.
[RB]: 4lri6ht, 6ood. Bec4use there's stuff I need to 6et off my chest, 4nd I need someone who c4n't think 4nd won't judge me.
[TM]: Of course, sir.
[RB]: Wh4t 4m I, TM?
[TM]: You're a troll, sir.
[RB]: Ye4h..ye4h, I know I'm 4 troll.
[RB]: But wh4t 4m I, other th4n th4t?
[TM]: The descendant of your ancestors?
[RB]: Th4t too..
[TM]: M4ybe the question would be better directed at a sentient being.
[TM]: You are aware that I am merely fire support, sir.
[RB]: Of course I'm 4w4re, I'm the one th4t 4lchemized you.
[TM]: Then perhaps you should direct these questions at a sentient being.
[RB]: No, I don't w4nt feeb4ck. I need to 6et this off my chest to someone th4t c4n't offer comment.
[TM]: Very well, sir.
[RB]: Wh4t am I?
[RB]: Why did the 64me m4ke me the Time pl4yer?
[RB]: 4n 4lcoholic. 4ddicted to ci64rs. self-depric4tin6.
[TM]: The game has a reason for everything, sir.
[RB]: Ye4h..m4ybe.
[RB]: I don't know.
[RB]: 4ll this time tr4vel stuff.
[RB]: It hurts knowin6 th4t everythin6 I do, I do bec4use I'm obli64ted to.
[RB]: Not bec4use I w4nt to.
[RB]: It's...off-puttin6.
[TM]: Yes, sir.
[RB]: H4rdmind never h4d to de4l with knowin6 th4t.
[RB]: Everythin6 he did, w4s bec4use he w4nted to.
[RB]: So did..it feels weird to t4lk 4bout 4n 4ncestor I only know bec4use of these shen4ni64ns.
[TM]: Of course, sir.
[RB]: So did Ironcl4d. He didn't know th4t everythin6 he did w4s me4nt to h4ppen.
[RB]: It w4s, but..but they didn't know. They did thin6s of their own will.
[RB]: But me...I know I need to do thin6s. I know wh4t will m4ke 4n 4ltern4te timeline, 4nd wh4t won't.
[RB]: I know th4t...no. I c4n't brin6 myself to s4y it. D4mn it..
[TM]: Yes, sir.
[RB]: But I h4ve to...I will do these thin6s.
[TM]: Yes, sir.
[RB]: So, I 6uess I...this w4s 6ood.
[RB]: It felt 6ood to just s4y them.
[RB]: I h4ve to 6o now, TM. I've 6ot thin6s to uncover.
[TM]: Very well, sir. Cutting contact.

-- tinMan [TM] gave up trolling recoillessBifurcation [RB] --

[Sporky]

I'm feeling muse-y and dark. Here, have a scene of Wytmonde cutting his eye out to alchemize it into a new one.

---

For the first time in a long time, the silence in the hive of LOSAR's player was shattered. Screams, shouts, vile profanities, all spoken in pained anger. For the left side of Wytmonde face was burned. Horribly burned, horribly mangled and left broken, by a battle with his denizen. He had conquered the beast, claimed its hoard. He had driven his blade through the foul devil's heart, but in the fight, had lost half his face to the thing, had lost half of his vision, and with it his depth perception.

That wouldn't do at all. He would have none of it. He refused to be handicapped, to suffer any loss of capability. For amidst his self-doubt, and self-hatred, there dwelled a stubbornness. A stubbornness that had borne those of his bloodline through countless a battle, through innumerable a siege. It was a stubbornness that had seen General Hardmind charge into what should have been a suicide mission time and again, that had seen Viscount Ironclad recover from being left for dead iwth paralyzed legs and a crew dead from poisoning to seek revenge on the ex-kismesis that had done it to him.

It was a stubbornness that drove Wytmonde to do something that was incredibly stupid. He once again made a card copy of his husktop, and also yanked a movie poster off his respiteblock's wall. A movie concerning, of all things, a parasite. But that wasn't all what he planned, or the stupid act he committed. Taking your computer and a movie poster was hardly stupid, hardly foolish. It hardly invoked the stubbornness that ran through his bloodline.

No, that act would occur in his cleanseblock. He gazed into his mirror, upon a face that was even further disfigured from what it had been upon entering the game. Burned flesh had been added to old scars, hair had been burned away from the dishevelled mop it had already been. And an eye had been rendered useless, a pointless shell of an organ by Badb, the foul creature that served as 'the final boss' to his land. He had never considered himself attractive, despite the insistences of his matesprit that he was handsome and dashing.

A blade, still freshly wet the the blood of the beast, was raised to the mangled eye. Perhaps a smaller knife would have been better for the task, but he had to make do. Several minutes passed with the blade tip, whose form evoked that of a bullet from his beloved gun, simply hovering there as he steeled himself for what he was about to do. He could do this...he could do this..damn it, he was heir to the legacy of General Hardmind and, he now knew, Viscount Ironclad. This was nothing to what they had gone through on a nightly basis. And so, the too-big blade was plunged into his wrecked eye socket.

Again, screams and shouts echoed through the hive. His voice was the loudest and most pained it had ever been, and with good reason. He swore, cursed Badb, cursed the game, cursed himself, cursed everything he could think to curse. Dark green blood, blood that was so very near to nobility, practically rained down into the cleansebasin, and was soon joined by his eyeball itself, cut as cleanly as he could.

He sank to the floor then, nerve endings screaming in protest and in pain, wanting so very desperately for things to go back to the way they had been. But they would not, and that was what made things worse. He had cut his eye out without any assurance that what he planned would work, whether the process of alchemization would yield what he hoped it would. Its abstractness had proved beneficial in the past, but this....what he wanted, what he needed, he had no idea whether the unpredictability of the procedures would yield something beneficial or useless.

For hours he lay there, stewing in his own uncertainty. Had he damned himself to a life of being less an eye? Burned eyes could be healed with advanced science and medicine, he knew this. But none of the four in his session had any access to such technology, nor were any of their powers centered around healing. But even so, he felt like he had perhaps damned himself to irrevocable half-blindness, to stumbling around without any sense of depth, to have to relearn how to fight on incredibly short notice.

But eventually, he picked himself up. He was still bleeding, quite horribly. His eyeball was collected, for he planned to craft a new one. He was determined to give himself sight once more. Complete sight, for he refused to be handicapped. No, he would have a new eye, an eye of science, forged from the arcane workings of this game's alchemy. He would see fully once more, see better perhaps.

First, his removed eyeball was combined with his computer. The result in itself was enough, an eye of steel and circuitry, of lens and gear. In itself good enough, it would suit his needs for vision as well as give him a means of communication that was toitally hands free. But in itself it would not work, for he needed something of flesh and muscle to fit back into his socket. That was what the poster was for. A good deal of his, and his co-players' items had been created from such things. Posters, books, wall hangings, the like. And they had all imparted their abstract qualities onto the result.


The final result was what he had hoped for. The new eye, now something of steel and flesh, or circuit and sinew, wriggled in his hand like an overgrown mudsquirmer. It looked unnatural in a way, something that was at once parasite, computer, and eyeball. But he knew it would work. He felt confident that he would restore his vision, improve it. He watched the thing squirm about for a good deal of time before he completed the operation. He lifted it to his eye socket, and creature squirmed in, attaching itself to his optic nerve.

He fell to the floor in pain again, as his thinkpan was partially rewritten to accommodate an eye that was part computer. Maybe this was what it was like for a computer to receive a firmware upgrade, to have itself partially rewritten to respond to new external hardware. But this pain was much less than what he had felt when cutting out his eye. He rose again, and opened his eyes.


It was...a little off, at first, both having complete sight once more, though his partial blindness had only been temporary, as well as now having a HUD in his vision, as well as being able to open Trollian with but a mere thought. Fortunately, with his denizen slain, and only its underlings left, of whom even the liches and giclopes posed no threat, to destroy, he would be able to get used to this new sight without interference.

[Sporky]

You guys see that Mindfang post up above? I was serious, that was an RP post. :3 My new RP mentor/inspiration. And yes, that RP is still ongoing. <3 MindfangxKarkat, one of my favorite Karkat-ancestor pairings. No, it doesn't have to make sense. ::::3 Anyway, here's another post, not the immediate one after the previous. Short for my mentor, but still <3

---

"What could I desire from you?"

It was a simple question. It was ever so simple a question that drummed upon but one of mankind's easiest sins; Envy. Oh, it was a question that rung through halls of glimmering jade. A question that all but echoed through those hallowed halls, leaving sinners to screech and delight as yet another threatened to join so bacchanalian a festival. "What do I desire from you?" She whispered again, her voice soft, almost motherly in tone. "Why, Mister Vantas, I'm ashamed." She ever so easily lied.

Oh, what did she desire? It was so easy a question. It should of been ever so simple to whisper that reply. To yell it from the highest peaks and proclaim it to all the world. Wealth, Opulence, Depravity, and most of all Pleasure! Oh, that was what she desired! Pleasure, mind numbing pleasure to indulge within. That treat she had been ever so silently promised by that glimmering orb. The hoard of delights that she was told laid so easy to pluck up, waiting for but a horde to descend upon it and ravage its depths. A key to her own happiness that refused to pale, to merely be forgotten like a trifling gift. What she desired was simple.

Her happiness.

And, yet, where was it? Still, even in the face of such horrid threats, that young man stood ignorant before her. Claiming but innocence and ignorance to what she desired. Yet, was first appearance right within this case? Had she possibly read that orb wrong? Or, was she overlooking something even to this moment? Slowly, ever so slowly, did Spinneret allow a gloved hand to raise to her temple, leaving ungloved fingers to gently knead at her temple even as she considered that horrid beast before her. Even as she considered that animal who defiled order, who defiled law, who defiled every tact of mankind. As she gazed upon a simple peasant, the lowest of the low. A beast. An animal. A creature who hardly deserved her time much less such grand attention. If not for that globe, if not for that crystal ball, that creature before her would of been ran through. His freakish blood left to pour from a gaping wound even as she turned aside and continued her rampage. Was it possible that she had misread that orb? Or, was this truly the man whom laid within her way to happiness? Just what could this young man have to insure so grand a future for her and her men, however?

Slowly did Spinneret turn, her gaze considered the sullied kitchen. Busted cartons, fluids, and spoiling food lay all around, leaving an undertone of raw, uncooked, food upon the air. Could this kitchen contain anything? No. Surely it couldn't of, could it? For a moment, she stood there. Her fingers paused upon her right temple. "You realize, ignorance is sickening, correct?" She whispered, her voice low, having lost that once motherly coo from agitation. "You realize, your ignorance is damning, no?" She questioned again, her accent forever concealed behind so thick, so formal, an articulation. "It is bothersome. No, burdensome. If anything, it can get a man killed, Mister Vantas." She snipped as she slowly stood, as metallic fingers encircled that naked blade and she turned upon her heel. A metallic boot was quick to send her former seat overturned, striking the floor with a small clatter as her hand lifted to that horrid eye patch. As she merely slipped it aside, revealing a burnt and scarred eye that laid ever so partially reddened and bloodshot even weeks after recovery. It was an eye that blinked for a few long moments, an eye that quivered within even the softened lighting of the lawn ring. An eye that threatened to water even as she attempted to focus her gaze.

And examine the room within its entirety. To examine every nook and cranny. For eight, blemished, pupils to shoot from shadow to shadow. To examine every inch of that room for even the faintest imperfection in wall or flooring. They was plentiful, as was to be expected. Yet, not a single one of them whispered of actual intent. Of a hidden passage or socket. It was infuriating. It was maddening. It was heart breaking.

Had she read it wrong, after all?

No, she was sure she had read it! She had already used it since that horrid fight, she had used it to locate who she needed. She had used it to find so scarred, so rugged, a man with so blatant a wound. A man she had crossed steel with more than once within the past a man whom had once sent her heart a flutter just as he had sent her blood a boil. A man who she knew she would want. A man who had, reluctantly, given her exactly that.

His ships. His crew. His maps. His treasures. All for but another kiss.

And then a thrust and a twist of a naked blade that had ended so charming, so hopelessly romantic, a man's life.

No, she was able to see. She was hardly blind, hardly crippled outside of the loss of her arm. She was able to see and read that orb, still. She was certain of it. And yet, why had she seen what she had seen? The way to so humble a community. A passage across bloodied yards and beaches towards so haphazardly build a house. A sudden flare of bubbling, twisting, writhing brilliance. A sudden fade, a tint of redness. A moment of all consuming, embracing, darkness. And then images of wealth. What had it all meant? What did it mean? Slowly, ever so slowly, did she turn.

And laid her vision eight fold upon so blatant a freak.

Not that she could argue she was anything less, even though her eye laid ever so maimed. Yet, slowly, ever so slowly, did a grin creep across painted lips. Ever so slowly did she approach that fridge, her fingers tightening upon her sword's hilt as she closed those few paces between her and the thermal hull. "Mister Vantas," Spinneret softly began, "what I desire is very simple and I shall have what I desire or you shall die." Spinneret continued, her voice slowly regaining that comforting edge. "You have a very simple choice ahead of you. Either you will tell me yes or you shall tell me no. There is no maybe. There is no partial answer. Either I will leave you here to perish within this thermal hull or I shall take what I desire and leave you a, somewhat, free man. Now, Mister Vantas, I will ask you only one more time." Spinneret softly commented as she moved to that thermal hull's barely parted doors. "Will you give me what I desire or shall I have to leave you?" She whispered, her voice but that of a molten coo.

Her heart was aflutter despite her cool demeanor. Her blood, almost boiling, left to pump underneath ashen flesh, leaving just the faintest tinge of azure upon her cheeks. The faintest tint that but whispered of her blood's nobility. The faintest tint that dared whisper of her frustration, of her uncertainty, of even her fear. What if she was wrong? What if she was wrong for even presuming this is what she needed? The orb had promised her happiness. It had led her here. Was this the young man she was meant to seek? Was it his very blood that was meant to bring her happiness? Was she meant to turn him in to the Empress? To return him in chains and seek a reward for her loyalty? A raise in station? A title above Marquise? Was that meant to bring her this happiness? Or, was it something else that she hadn't yet considered? She was afraid as she stood there, as she stood there with her front almost pressed against the cool metal of that thermal hull.

"Now, Mister Vantas, will you serve me? Yes or no?"

[Sporky]

Im Sorry I Thought More Of You Would Understand Trolls Lack Of Sexuality As Defined By Humans

[Sporky]

Xinder knows I thrive on alchemization. I have always done so, even before Homestuck. You give me any sort of game where you can craft or customize items to look unique, and I'll probably spend more time with that system than I should. So Homestuck's alchemization, literally combining anything with anything else with the only limit being grist, I came.

Now, for those of you not in the know who may be glancing over this, alchemization is simple. First, know that in Homestuck's universes, reality itself, the real world, works with an inventory system. Card based, and everyone's works differently, based on their fetch modus. It's complicated, and not the point of what I'm saying. The gist is that reality works with card-based inventories, with every item you put in your inventory allocated to a card. On the back of each card is a code, known as a 'caphalog code'. Outside of the universe ending and creating game in Homestuck, they're pointless. But in game, they're the key to combining your potted rubber tree with your plastic snow shovel.

Welp, here's my simple guide to alchemization, using the snow shovel and rubber tree, with both operations, && and ||:

1. Get ye ye flask Collect an uncarved cruxite dowel from a cruxtruder, one of the essential machines provided by the game before you really enter the game's world.
2. Put ye flask in the totem lathe. Another machine.
3. Observe card codes for snow shovel and rubber tree
4. Insert blank inventory card into punch designix, yet another machine.
5. Enter the code from the rubber tree's card into machine, punch holes in blank card
6. If || , immediately enter the snow shovel's code and punch the same blank card again.
7. If && , remove the punched card, insert another blank card, and enter the snow shovel's code.
7. If ||, insert the now double punched card into totem lathe. The lathe will carve the cruxite dowel.
8. If &&, insert both cards. One over the other, to overlap holes. Again, the lathe will carve the dowel.
9. Take carved dowel to alchemiter. The alchemiter will scan the dowel and produce the item based on the contours it scans. And just so you ask, an uncarved dowel produces a useless Perfectly Generic Object, pretty much just a green cube that's useless.



That's all. That's all there is to alchemizing in Homestuck. I'ma post again soon with some alchemized swords for Wytmonde, from a session he's in on another site.

[Sporky]

Okay so I'm bored, have a tiny text blurb about an alchemized sword.

---

Combine RAPIER && DUMBBELL = HEAVY METTLE

So, his first alchemized weapon. This was his first experiment with this game's arcane workings, for a weapon anyway, and it was alright. A dumbbell and a rapier, he hadn't expected much. He had thought maybe such a combination would prove useless. But no, it had not. What he held now was a perfectly viable weapon, if a little odd looking.

Its handle was soft, padded. Rubber..no, not rubber. Definitely not rubber. Foam. Yes, probably foam. It was definitely soft, definitely a comfort to hold. It was vaguely blue, near black in color. Probably an abstract carryover from the concept of a weight bench, such was the abstract nature of alchemization sometimes. For a moment, he worried it might slip from his hand while swinging it, but a few vigorous thrusts and swings disproved that. It stayed snug in his grip, not once did he feel like he would lose it.

The crossguard was the most obvious hint at its composition. Quite simply, this was a dumbbell in and of itself. Of course, shrunken down, because a full-sized dumbbell as a sword's crossguard would be dumb. Nothing had been changed, it was ordinary in and of itself. Flat, black metal, still enscribed with the objects weight, though of course it wasn't still 300lbs anymore, that would throw the weapon off and make it unbalanced.

The blade was now much thicker. In itself, he supposed it resembled a piece of pipe, again like that of a weight bench, but of course sharpened to a deadly point at the end. Flat black metal like the crossguard, unremarkable. He gave it a few swift raps with his finger. Not hollow. Good. A hollow sword blade was near useless, for it would buckle and break. Solid was good. Solid was strong. Solid would suit his needs.

All in all, a good first weapon. Sadly, he had used up the meager amount of grist he had collected so far in crafting the thing, so it would have to serve its purpose for now. Sadly, it did not come with a scabbard. Oh well. He hooked it into his belt. It was a thrusting sword and not a slicing one, so it should be safe. Good enough, he supposed.

[Sporky]

NEVER ENOUGH SWORDS

---

Combine RAPIER && UNCARVED CRUXITE DOWEL = CRUXITE RAPIER

This was a very simple result. The same rapier, now made of whatever it was that comprised cruxite dowels. It was much lighter than his previous rapier, and had been incredibly expensive for some reason. Probably because he'd cheated to get the code for the cruxite dowel, and the game was punishing him? Whatever.

Of course, looking closer, it wasn't exactly the same exact design as the base rapier that had gone into it. The blade was thinner, yet also stronger. The base blade, he could bend, ply. This blade, no. It refused to budge under his fingers. He swung it violently through the air, nothing. Not an inch of sway. It did, however, hum. It was a high, pleasant note. He liked it.

He liked this new blade. His previous rapier had carried him far, but sometimes you just had to upgrade. And this was a fine successor. He tossed it back and forth between his hands, and swung it repeatedly to listen to that pleasant hum. Thrusting produced no such note, but he supposed he would have to make do. It was a rapier, after all. Oh well.