Stuff happened in detail form. The end.
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We describe something like it was in a detailed novel
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^What's that? it's not even funny
This.Magicphoenix wrote:
^What's that? it's not even funny
As the retarded pile of horse excrement spoke, a groan was heard throughout the room. One patron angrily exclaimed that, "THIS STUPID MOTHERFUCKER IS RUINING THE SHOW!". The others quickly assented their agreement.ArcAngelArtemis wrote:
This.Magicphoenix wrote:
^What's that? it's not even funny
The leader of the group, the gruff and dedicated bird by the name of Ephemeral, rose from his seat and turned to face the delinquent. His avian eyes twitched eerily at the ignorant little boy.
Ephemeral leaned in to the retard's face, leering most lecherously. "Do you know what happens to the shit posters in the Off-Topic theater?", he inquired nastily. The little newfag stood there stony-faced, fully aware of the fact that he indeed, did not know shit because he was a retarded newfag.
"That's what I thought!" Ephemeral sneered, triumphant in the silent answer. His eyes continued to twitch.
"Well, i'll tell you what happens, you little sod. Before you know it, your sorry ass is kicked out of the lands of Valhalla, where countless other morons that were a smidge brighter than you might be lucky enough to end up. The next moment, you'll be wandering the frozen tundras of the Abandoned Wastelands, never to be heard from again. And then your name, and your face, even your osu! game account will sink into oblivion, never seen, never heard, never cared about. You will be a punchline for all horrible jokes for eternity."
By now, the little newfag was trembling in his boots, and had probably shat his pants more than once. Ephemeral chuckled to himself, stroking his feathers at the little twat's pain.
"Well, I suppose i'll let you off this time. BUT WATCH IT, MISTER, OR I'LL PERSONALLY HAUL YOU OUT MYSELF."
Everybody quickly and quietly vacated the premises, leaving the stupid n00b all by himself.
The end.
"Well, m'love, that sure was an interesting tale. Do pardon me for my bated breath when you started shouting at random, hm?"
As E-Hooker tugged on her sleeve in annoyance at the creeping smugness in Wojjan's voice, in order to avoid her sneering eyes her gaze slid across the room. Assembled with her in a circle sat only a few of those she regarded usuals in the pub. Ephemeral was there of course, his looming eyes only masked by the shadow the dim chandelier threw over his face, his head resting on his fingers, as if waiting to snare someone's mouth to let someone else finish. Mara had only recently arrived, but already had he pulled up a chair and laid his feet on the table. E-Hooker somehow felt strangely amused by how he practically hung over the furniture like cloth, and if she had any motive to reflect on it, she would've snickered at how he seemed to feel completely at home in the dark back alley. She threw a glance at Mara that spoke as much as "like she has a beter story to tell." She threw Wojjan a false smile that told her exactly hte same, but har face soon faded into a stern look, as if intimidated by Wojjan's aura of gravity. Her cigarette holder practically danced on her two fingers, and the smoke it emitted hung around her like a universe. Something about Wojjan had always thrown people off. Though technically she was hardly ever blatantly rude, she found the most amusing ways to work around any pleasantries people façaded for each other, and deal out remarks like gunshots, all while remaining what people presumed to be "a thorned rose."
Two empty chairs accessorised as usual by cocktails she was sure were designed with women in mind bore the marks of Larto and Jarby's presence. As usual, their seats were nothing but a formality, and soon they had already retreated into the back room. Next to those two remnants of guests, Shellghost had taken a seat. His hair was a dirty blonde, but in his beige longcoat the same could be said about his outfit. Stains on it beratted it raining outside. The Off Topic had no windows, so the state in which guests arrived was as much a palpable force as weather meant inside of it. Shellghost didn't order anything -- he never ordered anything. Any normal guest that rarely paid up E-Hooker would've kicked to the street a long time ago, but in the moments of Shellghost's absence the club always seemed considerably emptier, as if he was a vital link to keep the group together. Shellghost was sociable and sharp of wit to exception, so E-Hooker figured an exception more in his favor wouldn't do much harm.
E-Hooker realised just how much time she'd spent looking over the group, and noticed just how silent conversation fell at that point. Normally at least some ruckus from another table would fill the air, and the group would unanimously make an effort to listen in on their conversation, but today the club was strangely dry. The only thing left audible was a soft piano melody from the back of the room, some sort of blend of a classical haunting harpsichord piece and modern-day ragtime organ music.
"Loginer, for the love of everything holy, could you stop that racket for one fuckin' minute?"
The man at the seat was gloved and suited, and the way his pristine outfit meshed perfectly with the ivory keys, there seemed to be no one playing the instrument at all. Slyfully he tipped his hat so far down his face became obsolete. For a moment, everyone swore Loginer was the hat itself.
"You're pronouncing it wrong," he smiled from ear to ear. The man continued undisturbed from the exact point he got interrupted, as if E-Hooker has been no interruption at all.
Hooves clopped through the muddy streets. Only a moment later the bar doors flew open with characteristic croaking. Pokebis hadn't even dismounted yet, perhaps just to show the tavern exactly how he dismounted. He was a proud man, and his election into the chivalry certainly hadn't diminished his hubris. "Evenin' folks," he yelled. His voice didn't carry far, and what he meant to say usually didn't carry long either. "How's everyone. Rather empty today I fear?" E-Hooker had slid from the guest's able to the front door to hang Pokebis' coat (and of course his riding gear, for it had to be exhibited for everyone to see) and then back again to the counter. She was doing the dishes as Pokebis seated himself. "The new lot is out today. Some new place in town that opened. Ox, or something. Haven't seen any of the Force lately. Speaking of, anyone seen Todesengal?"
The Force, everyone knew it to mean Awp's X-Side, which he had eponymously dubbed the Awpforce. It consisted of several hardboiled crooks who got on Awp's good side for one reason or the other, most of them with no inclination or even a chance in hell to deny the invitation to his crew. His fiancé, Todesengal, got into the group as well simply so that the Force's duty to protect fellow members would extend to her as well. As she was discouraged from simply using her name in the Force, she adopted a moniker that grew from a nickname Awp used to call her by.
Wojjan also never got enough glee out of that nickname. "I don't know if you're aware, Hookie..." Wojjan called E-Hooker "Hookie". "...But she prefers to be called Cuddlebun these days."
Mara continued. "I hear Awp got something planned for him and Mrs. The Force. Some kind of candle-lit gang fight crime date or whatever."
"Mm, crime does pass around like cinnamon buns these days, doesn't it."
From nowhere, as abrupt as the halt in Loginer's impeccable performance that followed, a man burst into the club. "I won! I won at the races!" He screamed. "Drinks for everyone in the... uh..."
As much as no one got along in The Off Topic, for this one time everyone's look whispered the same intent. It told that foolish man never to show his attention-weary face in the pub ever again.
As the doors clicked shut again after the lucky man's rather humble retreat, for the first time in anyone's memory The Off Topic burst out in laughter.
As E-Hooker tugged on her sleeve in annoyance at the creeping smugness in Wojjan's voice, in order to avoid her sneering eyes her gaze slid across the room. Assembled with her in a circle sat only a few of those she regarded usuals in the pub. Ephemeral was there of course, his looming eyes only masked by the shadow the dim chandelier threw over his face, his head resting on his fingers, as if waiting to snare someone's mouth to let someone else finish. Mara had only recently arrived, but already had he pulled up a chair and laid his feet on the table. E-Hooker somehow felt strangely amused by how he practically hung over the furniture like cloth, and if she had any motive to reflect on it, she would've snickered at how he seemed to feel completely at home in the dark back alley. She threw a glance at Mara that spoke as much as "like she has a beter story to tell." She threw Wojjan a false smile that told her exactly hte same, but har face soon faded into a stern look, as if intimidated by Wojjan's aura of gravity. Her cigarette holder practically danced on her two fingers, and the smoke it emitted hung around her like a universe. Something about Wojjan had always thrown people off. Though technically she was hardly ever blatantly rude, she found the most amusing ways to work around any pleasantries people façaded for each other, and deal out remarks like gunshots, all while remaining what people presumed to be "a thorned rose."
Two empty chairs accessorised as usual by cocktails she was sure were designed with women in mind bore the marks of Larto and Jarby's presence. As usual, their seats were nothing but a formality, and soon they had already retreated into the back room. Next to those two remnants of guests, Shellghost had taken a seat. His hair was a dirty blonde, but in his beige longcoat the same could be said about his outfit. Stains on it beratted it raining outside. The Off Topic had no windows, so the state in which guests arrived was as much a palpable force as weather meant inside of it. Shellghost didn't order anything -- he never ordered anything. Any normal guest that rarely paid up E-Hooker would've kicked to the street a long time ago, but in the moments of Shellghost's absence the club always seemed considerably emptier, as if he was a vital link to keep the group together. Shellghost was sociable and sharp of wit to exception, so E-Hooker figured an exception more in his favor wouldn't do much harm.
E-Hooker realised just how much time she'd spent looking over the group, and noticed just how silent conversation fell at that point. Normally at least some ruckus from another table would fill the air, and the group would unanimously make an effort to listen in on their conversation, but today the club was strangely dry. The only thing left audible was a soft piano melody from the back of the room, some sort of blend of a classical haunting harpsichord piece and modern-day ragtime organ music.
"Loginer, for the love of everything holy, could you stop that racket for one fuckin' minute?"
The man at the seat was gloved and suited, and the way his pristine outfit meshed perfectly with the ivory keys, there seemed to be no one playing the instrument at all. Slyfully he tipped his hat so far down his face became obsolete. For a moment, everyone swore Loginer was the hat itself.
"You're pronouncing it wrong," he smiled from ear to ear. The man continued undisturbed from the exact point he got interrupted, as if E-Hooker has been no interruption at all.
Hooves clopped through the muddy streets. Only a moment later the bar doors flew open with characteristic croaking. Pokebis hadn't even dismounted yet, perhaps just to show the tavern exactly how he dismounted. He was a proud man, and his election into the chivalry certainly hadn't diminished his hubris. "Evenin' folks," he yelled. His voice didn't carry far, and what he meant to say usually didn't carry long either. "How's everyone. Rather empty today I fear?" E-Hooker had slid from the guest's able to the front door to hang Pokebis' coat (and of course his riding gear, for it had to be exhibited for everyone to see) and then back again to the counter. She was doing the dishes as Pokebis seated himself. "The new lot is out today. Some new place in town that opened. Ox, or something. Haven't seen any of the Force lately. Speaking of, anyone seen Todesengal?"
The Force, everyone knew it to mean Awp's X-Side, which he had eponymously dubbed the Awpforce. It consisted of several hardboiled crooks who got on Awp's good side for one reason or the other, most of them with no inclination or even a chance in hell to deny the invitation to his crew. His fiancé, Todesengal, got into the group as well simply so that the Force's duty to protect fellow members would extend to her as well. As she was discouraged from simply using her name in the Force, she adopted a moniker that grew from a nickname Awp used to call her by.
Wojjan also never got enough glee out of that nickname. "I don't know if you're aware, Hookie..." Wojjan called E-Hooker "Hookie". "...But she prefers to be called Cuddlebun these days."
Mara continued. "I hear Awp got something planned for him and Mrs. The Force. Some kind of candle-lit gang fight crime date or whatever."
"Mm, crime does pass around like cinnamon buns these days, doesn't it."
From nowhere, as abrupt as the halt in Loginer's impeccable performance that followed, a man burst into the club. "I won! I won at the races!" He screamed. "Drinks for everyone in the... uh..."
As much as no one got along in The Off Topic, for this one time everyone's look whispered the same intent. It told that foolish man never to show his attention-weary face in the pub ever again.
As the doors clicked shut again after the lucky man's rather humble retreat, for the first time in anyone's memory The Off Topic burst out in laughter.
He was sitting in the corner of his room, alone, stricken with the harsh words of his would-be significant other. With tears down his face, and a throb in his heart, the boy furiously cried until he fell asleep. Little did he know, that within the gloomy air of his room, his phone rang. On it, was the name of his best friend, who he truly cherished and loved until the end. However, to his dismay, she didn't feel the same for him. And she never would. Her outgoing and playful demeanor never matched his serious and concise attitude.
He picked up his phone. Inscribed were the words "Feel better yo", the words that could never ameliorate his broken and sensitive heart. He threw his phone at the wall, not even caring about the phone, much less her. But no matter how much he cried, she would never understand what was going on that day, the day that the sensitive teenage boy, was outright rejected and crushed by his best friend.
With his final words, he cried "Forever alone, I am".
*sniff
I've never felt worse in my entire life (exaggeration). The pain in my chest hurts more than any wound. But I won't give up, never. Thank you for reading this terribly written post.
He picked up his phone. Inscribed were the words "Feel better yo", the words that could never ameliorate his broken and sensitive heart. He threw his phone at the wall, not even caring about the phone, much less her. But no matter how much he cried, she would never understand what was going on that day, the day that the sensitive teenage boy, was outright rejected and crushed by his best friend.
With his final words, he cried "Forever alone, I am".
*sniff
I've never felt worse in my entire life (exaggeration). The pain in my chest hurts more than any wound. But I won't give up, never. Thank you for reading this terribly written post.
And so with the stroke of the keyboard the middle aged man typed out a comment on Osu! forum in the off topic forum section. He found that he had indeed nothing better to do as he was bored with this time on a Sunday that usually preached much less nonsense than when he was in school talking nonsense with his friend. In any case, this middle aged man glanced thread after thread as if trying to understand the common language or rather pattern of interpretation of the current forum. He discovered that it was mostly open and one could say anything, however it was obvious that it had restricted some vocabulary to a certain extent, that includes words which degraded and humiliated others.
After going through some threads, he decided to shift tabs in his Mozilla Firefox browser back to Mangafox for a while. He read on his comic also known as 'Hirona Ex' for some time trying to digest why Black Jack was used as a reference in it. He comprehended it quickly and shifted back to the forums to look for people to annoy or rather have conversation with or at least that is what he claims he is doing. And then he stumbled upon a thread. It read with font 17 alphabets 'We describe something like it was in a detailed novel'. It was a rather weird yet exotic thread he had never seen once in his life in other forums except now.
And so he read the first few posts and got the idea quick. And so he started typing a long message that most likely was the requirements to post on the thread he was reading. His subconcious told him it was a bad idea. But her always believed in shutting out the inner critic in ones self. Amnd so without furthur ado, he quickly sprinkled a few paragraphs after tapping on the reply tab on the bottom left section of the thread that read 'Add Reply' with an arrow signaling to the right side. He didn't get what the arrow was for but he just ignored it. And so he began to type his message. Typing and erasing trying to find the correct way and structure to put his words in the so called 'detailed novel' form. His words streamed out fast and quick in black and thin letters. Each letter was typed with consideration of what it meant from his terms of course. And thus he created the message:
" And so with the stroke of the keyboard the middle aged man typed out a comment on Osu! forum in the off topic forum section. He found that he had indeed nothing better to do as he was bored with this time on a Sunday that usually preached much less nonsense than when he was in school talking nonsense with his friend. In any case, this middle aged man glanced thread after thread as if trying to understand the common language or rather pattern of interpretation of the current forum. He discovered that it was mostly open and one could say anything, however it was obvious that it had restricted some vocabulary to a certain extent, that includes words which degraded and humiliated others.
After going through some threads, he decided to shift tabs in his Mozilla Firefox browser back to Mangafox for a while. He read on his comic also known as 'Hirona Ex' for some time trying to digest why Black Jack was used as a reference in it. He comprehended it quickly and shifted back to the forums to look for people to annoy or rather have conversation with or at least that is what he claims he is doing. And then he stumbled upon a thread. It read with font 17 alphabets 'We describe something like it was in a detailed novel'. It was a rather weird yet exotic thread he had never seen once in his life in other forums except now.
And so he read the first few posts and got the idea quick. And so he started typing a long message that most likely was the requirements to post on the thread he was reading. His subconcious told him it was a bad idea. But her always believed in shutting out the inner critic in ones self. Amnd so without furthur ado, he quickly sprinkled a few paragraphs after tapping on the reply tab on the bottom left section of the thread that read 'Add Reply' with an arrow signaling to the right side. He didn't get what the arrow was for but he just ignored it. And so he began to type his message. Typing and erasing trying to find the correct way and structure to put his words in the so called 'detailed novel' form. His words streamed out fast and quick in black and thin letters. Each letter was typed with consideration of what it meant from his terms of course. And thus he created the message"
multiplied by two of course. And then he stopped and decided to post it up after he typed the final phrase which was.
"multiplied by two of course. And then he stopped and decided to post it up after he typed the final phrase which was."
multiplied by 2 as well.....
After going through some threads, he decided to shift tabs in his Mozilla Firefox browser back to Mangafox for a while. He read on his comic also known as 'Hirona Ex' for some time trying to digest why Black Jack was used as a reference in it. He comprehended it quickly and shifted back to the forums to look for people to annoy or rather have conversation with or at least that is what he claims he is doing. And then he stumbled upon a thread. It read with font 17 alphabets 'We describe something like it was in a detailed novel'. It was a rather weird yet exotic thread he had never seen once in his life in other forums except now.
And so he read the first few posts and got the idea quick. And so he started typing a long message that most likely was the requirements to post on the thread he was reading. His subconcious told him it was a bad idea. But her always believed in shutting out the inner critic in ones self. Amnd so without furthur ado, he quickly sprinkled a few paragraphs after tapping on the reply tab on the bottom left section of the thread that read 'Add Reply' with an arrow signaling to the right side. He didn't get what the arrow was for but he just ignored it. And so he began to type his message. Typing and erasing trying to find the correct way and structure to put his words in the so called 'detailed novel' form. His words streamed out fast and quick in black and thin letters. Each letter was typed with consideration of what it meant from his terms of course. And thus he created the message:
" And so with the stroke of the keyboard the middle aged man typed out a comment on Osu! forum in the off topic forum section. He found that he had indeed nothing better to do as he was bored with this time on a Sunday that usually preached much less nonsense than when he was in school talking nonsense with his friend. In any case, this middle aged man glanced thread after thread as if trying to understand the common language or rather pattern of interpretation of the current forum. He discovered that it was mostly open and one could say anything, however it was obvious that it had restricted some vocabulary to a certain extent, that includes words which degraded and humiliated others.
After going through some threads, he decided to shift tabs in his Mozilla Firefox browser back to Mangafox for a while. He read on his comic also known as 'Hirona Ex' for some time trying to digest why Black Jack was used as a reference in it. He comprehended it quickly and shifted back to the forums to look for people to annoy or rather have conversation with or at least that is what he claims he is doing. And then he stumbled upon a thread. It read with font 17 alphabets 'We describe something like it was in a detailed novel'. It was a rather weird yet exotic thread he had never seen once in his life in other forums except now.
And so he read the first few posts and got the idea quick. And so he started typing a long message that most likely was the requirements to post on the thread he was reading. His subconcious told him it was a bad idea. But her always believed in shutting out the inner critic in ones self. Amnd so without furthur ado, he quickly sprinkled a few paragraphs after tapping on the reply tab on the bottom left section of the thread that read 'Add Reply' with an arrow signaling to the right side. He didn't get what the arrow was for but he just ignored it. And so he began to type his message. Typing and erasing trying to find the correct way and structure to put his words in the so called 'detailed novel' form. His words streamed out fast and quick in black and thin letters. Each letter was typed with consideration of what it meant from his terms of course. And thus he created the message"
multiplied by two of course. And then he stopped and decided to post it up after he typed the final phrase which was.
"multiplied by two of course. And then he stopped and decided to post it up after he typed the final phrase which was."
multiplied by 2 as well.....
Wojjan wrote:
"Well, m'love, that sure was an interesting tale. Do pardon me for my bated breath when you started shouting at random, hm?"
As E-Hooker tugged on her sleeve in annoyance at the creeping smugness in Wojjan's voice, in order to avoid her sneering eyes her gaze slid across the room. Assembled with her in a circle sat only a few of those she regarded usuals in the pub. Ephemeral was there of course, his looming eyes only masked by the shadow the dim chandelier threw over his face, his head resting on his fingers, as if waiting to snare someone's mouth to let someone else finish. Mara had only recently arrived, but already had he pulled up a chair and laid his feet on the table. E-Hooker somehow felt strangely amused by how he practically hung over the furniture like cloth, and if she had any motive to reflect on it, she would've snickered at how he seemed to feel completely at home in the dark back alley. She threw a glance at Mara that spoke as much as "like she has a beter story to tell." She threw Wojjan a false smile that told her exactly hte same, but har face soon faded into a stern look, as if intimidated by Wojjan's aura of gravity. Her cigarette holder practically danced on her two fingers, and the smoke it emitted hung around her like a universe. Something about Wojjan had always thrown people off. Though technically she was hardly ever blatantly rude, she found the most amusing ways to work around any pleasantries people façaded for each other, and deal out remarks like gunshots, all while remaining what people presumed to be "a thorned rose."
Two empty chairs accessorised as usual by cocktails she was sure were designed with women in mind bore the marks of Larto and Jarby's presence. As usual, their seats were nothing but a formality, and soon they had already retreated into the back room. Next to those two remnants of guests, Shellghost had taken a seat. His hair was a dirty blonde, but in his beige longcoat the same could be said about his outfit. Stains on it beratted it raining outside. The Off Topic had no windows, so the state in which guests arrived was as much a palpable force as weather meant inside of it. Shellghost didn't order anything -- he never ordered anything. Any normal guest that rarely paid up E-Hooker would've kicked to the street a long time ago, but in the moments of Shellghost's absence the club always seemed considerably emptier, as if he was a vital link to keep the group together. Shellghost was sociable and sharp of wit to exception, so E-Hooker figured an exception more in his favor wouldn't do much harm.
E-Hooker realised just how much time she'd spent looking over the group, and noticed just how silent conversation fell at that point. Normally at least some ruckus from another table would fill the air, and the group would unanimously make an effort to listen in on their conversation, but today the club was strangely dry. The only thing left audible was a soft piano melody from the back of the room, some sort of blend of a classical haunting harpsichord piece and modern-day ragtime organ music.
"Loginer, for the love of everything holy, could you stop that racket for one fuckin' minute?"
The man at the seat was gloved and suited, and the way his pristine outfit meshed perfectly with the ivory keys, there seemed to be no one playing the instrument at all. Slyfully he tipped his hat so far down his face became obsolete. For a moment, everyone swore Loginer was the hat itself.
"You're pronouncing it wrong," he smiled from ear to ear. The man continued undisturbed from the exact point he got interrupted, as if E-Hooker has been no interruption at all.
Hooves clopped through the muddy streets. Only a moment later the bar doors flew open with characteristic croaking. Pokebis hadn't even dismounted yet, perhaps just to show the tavern exactly how he dismounted. He was a proud man, and his election into the chivalry certainly hadn't diminished his hubris. "Evenin' folks," he yelled. His voice didn't carry far, and what he meant to say usually didn't carry long either. "How's everyone. Rather empty today I fear?" E-Hooker had slid from the guest's able to the front door to hang Pokebis' coat (and of course his riding gear, for it had to be exhibited for everyone to see) and then back again to the counter. She was doing the dishes as Pokebis seated himself. "The new lot is out today. Some new place in town that opened. Ox, or something. Haven't seen any of the Force lately. Speaking of, anyone seen Todesengal?"
The Force, everyone knew it to mean Awp's X-Side, which he had eponymously dubbed the Awpforce. It consisted of several hardboiled crooks who got on Awp's good side for one reason or the other, most of them with no inclination or even a chance in hell to deny the invitation to his crew. His fiancé, Todesengal, got into the group as well simply so that the Force's duty to protect fellow members would extend to her as well. As she was discouraged from simply using her name in the Force, she adopted a moniker that grew from a nickname Awp used to call her by.
Wojjan also never got enough glee out of that nickname. "I don't know if you're aware, Hookie..." Wojjan called E-Hooker "Hookie". "...But she prefers to be called Cuddlebun these days."
Mara continued. "I hear Awp got something planned for him and Mrs. The Force. Some kind of candle-lit gang fight crime date or whatever."
"Mm, crime does pass around like cinnamon buns these days, doesn't it."
From nowhere, as abrupt as the halt in Loginer's impeccable performance that followed, a man burst into the club. "I won! I won at the races!" He screamed. "Drinks for everyone in the... uh..."
As much as no one got along in The Off Topic, for this one time everyone's look whispered the same intent. It told that foolish man never to show his attention-weary face in the pub ever again.
As the doors clicked shut again after the lucky man's rather humble retreat, for the first time in anyone's memory The Off Topic burst out in laughter.
The girl known as 'E-Hooker' continued to ponder the meaning of this whimsical story for quite a time after she read it.
She then arrived at the conclusion that this was not a bitchslap to her face, and chuckled along with the rest of the group.
That was when I walked slowly along the sandy path of the beach, stopping occasionally to examine a pebble or to collect a shell. The waves crashed in slowly and steadily, keeping time with the rhythm of the tide. The beach was, for the most part, heavily occupied by a large number of people who had come there to enjoy the light of the sunny rays and enjoy the feeling of the smooth sand. But I was not there to stop and stay still. I was there to take a journey, trudging through the many grains of sand and the bits of rock ranging from rough to smooth and everywhere in between.
As I stopped to take a brief rest from my long journey, I noticed an inviting log. I sat down on the log after brushing off a bit of sand and stopped to enjoy a sandwich. Or at least, it would have been a good time to enjoy a sandwich if I had thought to bring one. I hadn't. I got back up to walk a bit more. It was time for another reprieve from this great pilgrimage, if that's what one could describe it as. Honestly, I was unsure if it was appropriate wording, but for now it would have to do.
When I stopped a moment to take in the scents and delights of a local coffee shop, I noticed both the hard wooden chairs and the comfortable, cushioned ones settled calmly around a gentle fireplace, at the moment unlit due to the temperature being already reasonably high. When I got home that day, I found myself very sleepy and ready to fall into a deep sleep. Before that, bristles of a toothbrush rapidly danced across the enamel of my teeth, spreading a minty scent through my mouth. Then I spit it out. Following that, I went to lie down in my comfortable bed where I arranged various pillows and an enormous luma plushie.
That night, I had a dream about some sort of singing contest that I had apparently entered, which was strange as my singing talent was minimal. I was very nervous about the contest. Would I make a mistake? I hoped I would be able to hit all the notes of the song I was going to sing. It then occurred to me that I had not yet thought about what song I was going to sing for the audience. It was at this moment, as I descended the carpeted red steps, gently holding the wooden banister to assist my feet in not slipping, that I noticed another one of my friends who lacks in musical talent about as much as I do. I repeatedly called him Sam, despite knowing his actual name was not Sam.
We briefly discussed about the singing contest, and remembered a strange man singing a bit of each song that we had chosen, as if it was from a mod post. He decided to sing Halo instead of my song, which was alright as I hadn't quite remembered my song choice myself. Later on, I remember being in a more tower-like environment where I swung across ropes attempting to get my way to wherever the contest would take place. I think the goal may have been to go down, but I couldn't have been exactly sure. It was at this moment when I discovered a sort of bedroom, and a bed to go with it. There may have been some sort of ecchi in the room, but I wasn't exactly sure. I only remember it being a sort of pink room with a large wooden bed.
Later I was on some sort of sandy path, perhaps going to another tall, blue brick tower. There wasn't much else to say about that, other than I woke up shortly afterwards. When it was this day, today, I went to my computer and clicked on a particularly appealing topic, "We describe something like it was in a detailed novel". I read through a bit of some other people's intriguing replies, then decided to create my own by clicking the beautiful button labeled "Add Reply" and began to type up some thoughts, which later became words and sentences and soon, I had an entire story to my satisfaction. When I was ready, I hovered my cursor over the Submit button and
As I stopped to take a brief rest from my long journey, I noticed an inviting log. I sat down on the log after brushing off a bit of sand and stopped to enjoy a sandwich. Or at least, it would have been a good time to enjoy a sandwich if I had thought to bring one. I hadn't. I got back up to walk a bit more. It was time for another reprieve from this great pilgrimage, if that's what one could describe it as. Honestly, I was unsure if it was appropriate wording, but for now it would have to do.
When I stopped a moment to take in the scents and delights of a local coffee shop, I noticed both the hard wooden chairs and the comfortable, cushioned ones settled calmly around a gentle fireplace, at the moment unlit due to the temperature being already reasonably high. When I got home that day, I found myself very sleepy and ready to fall into a deep sleep. Before that, bristles of a toothbrush rapidly danced across the enamel of my teeth, spreading a minty scent through my mouth. Then I spit it out. Following that, I went to lie down in my comfortable bed where I arranged various pillows and an enormous luma plushie.
That night, I had a dream about some sort of singing contest that I had apparently entered, which was strange as my singing talent was minimal. I was very nervous about the contest. Would I make a mistake? I hoped I would be able to hit all the notes of the song I was going to sing. It then occurred to me that I had not yet thought about what song I was going to sing for the audience. It was at this moment, as I descended the carpeted red steps, gently holding the wooden banister to assist my feet in not slipping, that I noticed another one of my friends who lacks in musical talent about as much as I do. I repeatedly called him Sam, despite knowing his actual name was not Sam.
We briefly discussed about the singing contest, and remembered a strange man singing a bit of each song that we had chosen, as if it was from a mod post. He decided to sing Halo instead of my song, which was alright as I hadn't quite remembered my song choice myself. Later on, I remember being in a more tower-like environment where I swung across ropes attempting to get my way to wherever the contest would take place. I think the goal may have been to go down, but I couldn't have been exactly sure. It was at this moment when I discovered a sort of bedroom, and a bed to go with it. There may have been some sort of ecchi in the room, but I wasn't exactly sure. I only remember it being a sort of pink room with a large wooden bed.
Later I was on some sort of sandy path, perhaps going to another tall, blue brick tower. There wasn't much else to say about that, other than I woke up shortly afterwards. When it was this day, today, I went to my computer and clicked on a particularly appealing topic, "We describe something like it was in a detailed novel". I read through a bit of some other people's intriguing replies, then decided to create my own by clicking the beautiful button labeled "Add Reply" and began to type up some thoughts, which later became words and sentences and soon, I had an entire story to my satisfaction. When I was ready, I hovered my cursor over the Submit button and
Then it looked less like a wall, though.
But more like it was in a detailed novel.SapphireGhost wrote:
Then it looked less like a wall, though.
Wojjan wrote:
But more like it was in a detailed novel.SapphireGhost wrote:
Then it looked less like a wall, though.
Here we go again. Another red exclamation mark, smack-dab in the middle of the topic list. What are the plebs complaining about this time? An unresolvable dispute over a pack of discount instant noodles gone nasty gone nasty? An infestation of page-breaking Unicode leaving the residents of the leg fetish thread at the mercy of the elements? Or perhaps it's another formal complaint lodged against the young children from reddit who've been defacing the forum's sacred graffiti?
The security guard sighed and moved the cursor to overlap with the exclamation mark. Click. No, it would seem this report regards one of the more seasoned nuisances of the message board: SapphireGhost is causing a ruckus in the new sticky. Following the formation of a labor union by the village idiots of Off-Topic, the guard had been waiting eagerly for an opportunity to test their newfound resolve. He wasted little time clicking the Close Report button and dashing into action.
It was a classy thread. An archaic word here, a famous quote there, all of it beautifully formatted into paragraphs of even lengths. Well, almost all of it; one ArcAngelArtemis came close to corrupting the purity of the thread, but that sad attempt at literature did find itself useful in the form of inspiration for another slightly-better-but-not-quite-priceless work of art. The lieutenant decided to ignore the child's scribblings and push forward through the thread.
And there it was. A low-res mugshot, crudely mocking the serious nature of the beautifully spun thread with its very presence, like a YouTube commenter on a judging panel. Sitting on a chair in front of it was its author, gazing up at the blasphemous post with pride. This simply would not do; both the post and its author had to go.
"Constable Loginer, Off-Topic Police Department. You're under arrest."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, sheriff. My uncle is the CEO of Britain."
SapphireGhost swiveled her second-hand office chair around, obscuring the deformed grin on her grid-lined face with a blurry lemon slice. Or was it a potato chip? The detective couldn't quite tell, but analyzing her distinct facial features revealed something far more interesting in another browser tab: SapphireGhost was actually ...
"Ms Diamandis, resisting arrest is a serious crime. Are you coming with me to the wasteland willingly or not?"
"Why, don't you know, officer? This is the wasteland."
"Oh."
The security guard sighed and moved the cursor to overlap with the exclamation mark. Click. No, it would seem this report regards one of the more seasoned nuisances of the message board: SapphireGhost is causing a ruckus in the new sticky. Following the formation of a labor union by the village idiots of Off-Topic, the guard had been waiting eagerly for an opportunity to test their newfound resolve. He wasted little time clicking the Close Report button and dashing into action.
It was a classy thread. An archaic word here, a famous quote there, all of it beautifully formatted into paragraphs of even lengths. Well, almost all of it; one ArcAngelArtemis came close to corrupting the purity of the thread, but that sad attempt at literature did find itself useful in the form of inspiration for another slightly-better-but-not-quite-priceless work of art. The lieutenant decided to ignore the child's scribblings and push forward through the thread.
And there it was. A low-res mugshot, crudely mocking the serious nature of the beautifully spun thread with its very presence, like a YouTube commenter on a judging panel. Sitting on a chair in front of it was its author, gazing up at the blasphemous post with pride. This simply would not do; both the post and its author had to go.
"Constable Loginer, Off-Topic Police Department. You're under arrest."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, sheriff. My uncle is the CEO of Britain."
SapphireGhost swiveled her second-hand office chair around, obscuring the deformed grin on her grid-lined face with a blurry lemon slice. Or was it a potato chip? The detective couldn't quite tell, but analyzing her distinct facial features revealed something far more interesting in another browser tab: SapphireGhost was actually ...
"Ms Diamandis, resisting arrest is a serious crime. Are you coming with me to the wasteland willingly or not?"
"Why, don't you know, officer? This is the wasteland."
"Oh."
I keep in my room and there he. The End
"Again and again, these events have occurred. One has been shot, three others, besides". As the hooded man typed on his keyboard, a buzzing sensation reminded him of a person's SMS he had received but 5 minutes ago. Reaching into his Hood's pocket, the man checked his phone, replied to the message, and returned to typing.
Eventually, the time drew on. Afternoon turned to Dusk, Dusk turned to Night. The hooded man stepped away from the keyboard, his story complete. Pondering on the notion that this story could be hurtful, he went to the kitchen and thought on his future. After making a drink, and a bite of toast, the hooded man returned to his desk.
Mouse hovering over the 'Submit' button, the hooded man hesitated again. Could this story really have an impact on his future?
"Nay sir", he said aloud.
'Submit' was pressed.
Eventually, the time drew on. Afternoon turned to Dusk, Dusk turned to Night. The hooded man stepped away from the keyboard, his story complete. Pondering on the notion that this story could be hurtful, he went to the kitchen and thought on his future. After making a drink, and a bite of toast, the hooded man returned to his desk.
Mouse hovering over the 'Submit' button, the hooded man hesitated again. Could this story really have an impact on his future?
"Nay sir", he said aloud.
'Submit' was pressed.
Mara is sleeping.
And then the lord Bancho fell, causing the world to plunge into darkness and killing most that lacked the intelligence to hide away from the corruption that was wrought upon us.
Pockets of civilization survived including few of the undesirables; slowly they began to emerge to the surface to find the city of #osu wiped clean with a crated surrounded in a black shroud.
The people began to discuss the events of which had just happened and how such events had changed the city forever, as more and more talked, the undesirables became aware that it was safe; sensing the kindness and friendliness the city was giving, and thought only of destroying it.
At last, authority and citizen worked together and relaxed a little, not aware of the impending destruction that the undesirables where about to cause until it was too late.
The end.
(Shit I know but hey ho)
Pockets of civilization survived including few of the undesirables; slowly they began to emerge to the surface to find the city of #osu wiped clean with a crated surrounded in a black shroud.
The people began to discuss the events of which had just happened and how such events had changed the city forever, as more and more talked, the undesirables became aware that it was safe; sensing the kindness and friendliness the city was giving, and thought only of destroying it.
At last, authority and citizen worked together and relaxed a little, not aware of the impending destruction that the undesirables where about to cause until it was too late.
The end.
(Shit I know but hey ho)
Snap. Crackle. Pop.
He turned around and found the room had fixed their eyes on him, their glares piercing through the innermost depths of his soul.
"What did you say?", the leader of the group inquired in a slow and careful voice.
"Snap. Crackle. Pop.", the young boy replied calmly, unaware of the crime he had just committed.
"Oh? Is that all? Is that ALL you had to say? Is that REALLY all you're going to say?", the head of the group demanded, the anger is his voice rising with every accusation.
"You know the rules. You know what must be done now", he stated calmly.
And he sat wordlessly as the rest of the group burned the transgressor at the stake.
READ AND LEARN, BUDDY.
"What did you say?", the leader of the group inquired in a slow and careful voice.
"Snap. Crackle. Pop.", the young boy replied calmly, unaware of the crime he had just committed.
"Oh? Is that all? Is that ALL you had to say? Is that REALLY all you're going to say?", the head of the group demanded, the anger is his voice rising with every accusation.
"You know the rules. You know what must be done now", he stated calmly.
And he sat wordlessly as the rest of the group burned the transgressor at the stake.
READ AND LEARN, BUDDY.
With crestfallen eyes she stare, the radiance before her is just too bright.
"Can get too much of agony." she whispered, as if the radiance would reply,
after reading 3 pages of splendid thread whose contributors are much superior than hers.
She was amazed with their english that is pure excellence, then became inspired instead of frustrated.
I suck
"Can get too much of agony." she whispered, as if the radiance would reply,
after reading 3 pages of splendid thread whose contributors are much superior than hers.
She was amazed with their english that is pure excellence, then became inspired instead of frustrated.
I suck
One might believe that the true meaning of life is to leave behind a legacy of one's humanity; others may insist that mere happiness is the virtue that is, the meaning of life. However, it is an undeniable fact that the act of pursuing a goal and following one's intricately woven destiny, as if it were a web connecting the grass to the slowly rusting steel gates while the sun rises from the distant mountains start the new day, is a very self rewarding action. In addition, there is no bigger regret in life than not being true to one's self; instead hiding behind a proverbial "Iron chain" and acting out a persona that is not truly you. Life is very rare; out of infinitely many sperm cells you were the one chosen to be granted it, therefor - enjoy the ups as well as the downs because it will be over much sooner than one might expect. Perhaps life doesn't have a meaning besides to pass one's genes to its potential offspring, being a immense period of nothingness, then a milli-microsecond of life, and then once again, a infinite amount of nothingness. And tis the ritual of life continues, generation after generation, until the human race is eradicated from the universe as we know it.
...I try...
...I try...
I heard a small voice coming from the end of the tunnel
Arigato Arigato Arigato no aru desu dono.
What i called out the stutturing voice was a child that i met
on the way back home sitting on the edge of a dark bench
no one could see him but me i said Why are you all alone little child why arn't you with your family
the child said "They went away.
Arigato Arigato Arigato no aru desu dono.
What i called out the stutturing voice was a child that i met
on the way back home sitting on the edge of a dark bench
no one could see him but me i said Why are you all alone little child why arn't you with your family
the child said "They went away.
Somewhere over that rainbow is another color that hides from existence. A simple existence where color is expressed as time. Seeing things as pure things without a need of symbolism. True simplicity isn't from delusions or lack of knowledge. Simplicity is unity. Life is simple because we all exist together. That color that hides from existence is an unnoticeable one. The rainbow is an array and complexity of existences while that hidden color is a single existence that exists only as one. We are all connected, but we are all blind and separated by our own perspectives. We are born with complexity and unable to grasp true simplicity. That color can't be life or a soul. Maybe it is an energy that surrounds the universe. That color also can't be black or white. Those colors not only exist, but they are infinitely more complex than the hidden color. The concept of differences is too great for such a color. Which means this color really isn't a color. This color is beyond existence, yet existing. This color will forever be unknown. Then I suddenly realize that this is how I feel about you. A person who I'm unified to for more than an eternity.
why the hell is this stickied
Topic Starter
"Why the hell is this stickied". A question, thrown into the dark sea of questions that makes up Off-Topic. A dark sea, a dark ocean of questions, never to be answered seriously. What could one hope for, asking a such question? What could one hope for, asking it right here? How could they expect to ever find an answer to the questions, to the often unbearable issues that are its cause? How naive can they be, and how sad will this story end, when all it reaches is a dead end? A 'troll answer', as you like. But this is the way it goes in life, and, more particular, in Off-Topic. Fallen tears and fallen lives are handled with stoic ease and wicked smiles in this hellish pit. And that's how it will go, always.
The Larto shouted "Because Ephemeral is silly!" at them, with flippancy and impudence. What else could one expect?
The Larto shouted "Because Ephemeral is silly!" at them, with flippancy and impudence. What else could one expect?
Amidst the long, seemingly useless waste of time summer days, there is something to be said about doing nothing. Perhaps doing nothing is actually doing something; a paradox that may never be truly understood. The childhood days of playing stick-and-hole, staring at the purple sky at sunset with a slight breeze, is a type of unknowing bliss that is most often not realized until it is too late; playing with the leaves in one's backyard, while mother is cooking a hearty dinner of mac and cheese, is just one of the few remaining nostalgic memories that is shared by teenagers, adults, and the elderly alike. However, a proverbial "epidemic" is spreading in the 21st century. Instead of creating the memories needed for a healthy adult life, like any child would, now 4 year olds have to study for the kindergarten entrance exams. The parents, unknowingly, is frankly stealing their sons and daughters of their childhood. WE'RE FUCKED GUYS.
Upon the arrival of this thread I am tempted to read it. But I don't.
The crowd had been chatting, but in a moment, they were hushed. It was as if they were sitting in their AP Modern World History class again, when the teacher could make the group shut their mouths and stop their incessant chatter with a glare of death and another reading packet about the Holocaust and a weepy movie like The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas.Frozen wrote:
Upon the arrival of this thread I am tempted to read it. But I don't.
The good narrator digresses.
So the group sat, in silence, analyzing the situation, trying their best to fathom what would possess a person to do such a thing as to profoundly state and proclaim to the world that they would ever admire themselves for being such an ignorant, circlejerking asshat who could possibly be the sole cause of every terrible bane of the Earth; including, but not limited to: the Bubonic Plague, the aforementioned Holocaust, 9/11, every war and battle known to man, even global warming.
And the group rose to their full strength, and the fool stood, his mouth agape at the reaction he had caused. Well, to put it frankly, he was fucked. Unwanted, disliked, a waste of carbon and pixels.
And he was banished to the land of mod quenes and frozen wastelands for the eternity of his short and miserable life.
Amongst the group who stood up was 'Frozen'. He glared at those person's eyes, along with his fellow army. The army began to chatter. "E-Who?" "E-Who?" "E-Who?" they said. They rambled on, yet no-one realised; no-one cared.
God, you're all so terrible. And the fact that this has been stickied so long and only has 3 pages verifies that yes, this thread blows.
DEMOTED
DEMOTED
a wise decision
nobody cares about you and your shitty writingFrozen wrote:
I have broken the great story flow~
Amongst the group who stood up was 'Frozen'. He glared at those person's eyes, along with his fellow army. The army began to chatter. "E-Who?" "E-Who?" "E-Who?" they said. They rambled on, yet no-one realised; no-one cared.
the group hates you and lynched you like twice
you ruin everything
go to the deepest pits of hell
Chill.
hey settle down tigerE-Hooker wrote:
nobody cares about you and your shitty writingFrozen wrote:
I have broken the great story flow~
Amongst the group who stood up was 'Frozen'. He glared at those person's eyes, along with his fellow army. The army began to chatter. "E-Who?" "E-Who?" "E-Who?" they said. They rambled on, yet no-one realised; no-one cared.
the group hates you and lynched you like twice
you ruin everything
go to the deepest pits of hell
you dont need to state the obvious
"That's enough!", the white haired Man cried. As a hush fell over the bewildered group, the man stepped forward, to the center of the podium.
"For far too long, this conversation has not been to my satisfaction," he said, pointing his arm to the people, staring in perplexion. "From now, your existence here will slowly fade away into time."
The group stared at each other, then back to the man. "What would you have us do?" The smallest, youngest of the group asked hesitantly.
"Improve," the man said, touching the tip of his nose with his finger. "Improve."
"For far too long, this conversation has not been to my satisfaction," he said, pointing his arm to the people, staring in perplexion. "From now, your existence here will slowly fade away into time."
The group stared at each other, then back to the man. "What would you have us do?" The smallest, youngest of the group asked hesitantly.
"Improve," the man said, touching the tip of his nose with his finger. "Improve."
"Improve? What can you still improve? Look around you! The city is burning, and people throw torches just to make it so! With beasts as that around, what will you fix? Which life can you eke out?" She barked, like the dog she was. "Your kin is hollow, White Man. Those who live ignorant mesh best in silence. Be rotten! Be black! Shrivel, and wither, and mourn for the dead and their passing, how you'd emrace it so! No time is unholy as to deserve our accompaniment."
The White Man remained silent.
"Everyone lives as a pastime between birth and death here. Compared between those eternities, null and void and bereft of light, do you still stand the burning buildings are torches we must too extinguish? Are you truly forcing this pain upon us, the pain of dying in death?"
"Improve," he parroted. "Improve," like a jack-in-the-box.
The White Man remained silent.
"Everyone lives as a pastime between birth and death here. Compared between those eternities, null and void and bereft of light, do you still stand the burning buildings are torches we must too extinguish? Are you truly forcing this pain upon us, the pain of dying in death?"
"Improve," he parroted. "Improve," like a jack-in-the-box.