I mentioned this in the build-up to the event, but I forgot to make a thread.

Would anyone like a thread where they could rp people watching from the DA Preshow Facility? Whether it's your NPCs or even if other characters want to watch.

I want to ask before I make a thread that will only get one or two posts.

First off I'd like thank Alex (Karl Jak) for doing a splendid job. I couldn't have asked for any more effort out of you. You're awesome, but you already knew that.

Second, I want to wish the remaining members of my group good luck. I look forward to RP'ing with you guys again in the future. I know there's others in the group in the group that I didn't get the chance to interact with, but the irony is that I actually DID RP with them in previous DA's (They know who they are!) so please don't give me a hard time for not being active enough. For what it's worth, I still had fun, plus, I got to make IC allies, enemies, and shared an intense moment of passion with The Great One.

Lastly, please don't let my death be in vain. You can avenge me by killing either Guu, Luffy or Ganondork, although all three would be sweet. Taking out Retane would also be pleasant, especially if it's Deadpool who finishes what he started

To the rest of you jabroni's, I hope The Rock lays the smackdown on all your candy asses!

COME AND GET IT!!! Ton's of you are going to need to come out of the rain, come see me, I'll be waiting!!!

The town was quiet, for now. It always got quiet when Roland sent out one of his deputies to investigate something outside the border of the town. Everyone already knew they’d be in for it if they started any trouble; he was already in a shit mood and making it any worse was dangerous. For as much as the man pretended he didn’t care, he sure seemed to get worried about his officers of the “law.”

He sat just across the saloon on the porch of the gunsmith, leaned back in a wooden chair with his feet up on the railing. He figured if anyone was going to forget themselves, it was going to be a bunch of drunks, burning up their omni on shit whiskey and cigarettes. He wasn’t wrong.

A bright green creature with huge black eyes and a human with glowing blue ones burst through the thin glass of the window and into the street, gripping each other’s shirts and rolling back and forth. The human gained a dominant position just long enough to fire down a heavy punch, an irritating squeaking noise honking from the green one’s snout-like mouth. A crowd of strange onlookers gathered around the tussling drunks, peering out from the hole where the window once was and opening the wooden shades of their windows.

Sighing, Roland kicked his feet back to the ground, pushed his hat back on his head and stood up. Clearing his throat, it seemed the man took a moment to remember the words he wished to speak. “Alright, quit rubbernecking,” he said in a firm, practiced command that could somehow still be heard a block away. He sauntered towards them, the ringing of the spurs adding emphasis to every step. The two men froze in place and twisted their necks up to see him, caught in a still-frame of their transgressions. “Get your shit,” he spat, “You two are coming with me.”

The brawlers bolted to their feet, standing straight and tense. “I apologize, my lord, for our altercation. This one,” he gestured at the green creature, “wished to steal from me my mélange, which I had purchased fairly from a local Prime. I will not allow my spice to be taken so easily.”

“Somebody shut this fuckin’ fremen up so I can fix my God damned window,” the barkeep shouted from inside. “Nobody gives a fuck about your damn spices, boy!”

Roland waved to the barkeep to silence him and looked to the other combatant expectantly. The cones on the top of its head trembled as it spat out, “Boochico uuna tantiko puuda fremen yoko bana poor’chillo!”

“I most certainly did not shoot first!” the man gasped, his blue-in-blue eyes blinking incredulously.

“Let the man talk,” Roland snapped.

“Piincha tomo dar sella,” it replied.

Roland tipped his hat to the creature, “Sorry, ma’am. Let this lady talk.”

Weaving its green hands around, the creature angrily continued, “Beena toor’walla temnock orta cho bo nook cher bornah!” It lifted one of the flaps of its jacket, a large crystalline needle still protruding from its amor. “Te china, fremen? Te china?”

The sheriff planted a hand on his hip and rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Listen, both of you. You can’t steal things, and you can’t kill people, especially not secondaries. You folks only got one chance at this, and you can’t be blowing it over some magic spices. It ain’t worth it.”

“The spice must flow!” the blue-eyed man shouted, as if it was a rebuttal to his statement.

Pointing his finger at the man, Roland shook his head. “No. It doesn’t.” Pushing his way between them, he held his hand up and a shimmering beam of prismatic energy filled to window pane, then hardened into glass. “Now both of you get your shit; you’re coming with me.”

---

The war truck gurgled and coughed as the heavy gears shifted and the bandit brought it to a stop. She squinted at the carnage, wary of any sign that her target had returned. She was sure that the person that had created such chaos in her camp was not as easily defeated as her comrades had insisted; she knew that they were still out here in the wasteland.

The steep, red, stone cliff appeared quiet and safe at first glance, but the Dunes were not forgiving of carelessness. Her wary brown eyes crawled over the contours of the rock, every depression and every peak, searching for even the faintest hint of life. There was no real way to know what was lurking just on the other side of any given stone. More than once she had been the sniper in the shadows, just waiting for her target to get out of their vehicle.

Priming her las-rifle, she hung it out the window let loose a couple of blasts into the cliff, spacing them generously. Incoming fire, even if it didn’t hit its target, had a way of spooking candy-ass ambushers into exposing themselves too soon.

A single stone rolled down the cliff, bouncing once, twice, and finally landing with a thump in the sand. The echo of the laser pulses anxiously hung, rebounding off of mesas miles away, until the sound was finally devoured by the sky. There was silence. Stillness gripped the cliff side with anxious fingers, even the wind frightened to blow. Nobody returned fire.

Her heart pounded in her chest, the thrill of danger bringing a dark excitement to the forefront of her mind. Her hand slipped into one of the many pockets on her dark tan cargo pants and removed a small, flat tin. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, opened the container, and plunged her fingers into the grease paint. Broad, messy strokes laid ragged white over her ebony skin, fingers moving deliberately but without precision. The thick paint made a circle around each eye, three streaks over the lips and chin, and she filled in her forehead and cheekbones.

She tilted the rear view mirror down and looked herself in the eyes, the skull-painted warrior confiding in the only friend she’d ever known. Cold, dark eyes looked back at her with hateful resolution, the fire and chrome gleaming from the spirit within.

With one last scan of the cliffs, she slapped another energy cell into her laser rifle and flung the door open. Leaping down from the war truck she landed in a squat, the scrap-metal armor she wore clanking on impact, her thick dreads swaying as her head swiveled. Her weapon was pressed into her shoulder firmly, the reticle bouncing from point to point, sweeping through every possible cover location, her twitching finger just waiting for some fool to try their luck.

Stalking across the wind-blasted sands, she warily approached the scene of the fight, if you could call it a fight, where her and the other members of Sledge’s gang mowed down the over-eager posse of gunmen. Her gang had been looking for whoever had blown up their guzzaline, and the now lead-ridden interlopers had interrupted their search.

What remained of her opponents still lay where they had died, their blood drunk up by the parched earth below. She knew where they were from; she’d seen this deputy before. Jessie, if she remembered the girl’s last words correctly. She was always reckless, bringing her brigade of half-cocked heroes to every fire fight that popped off within ten miles of the Town With No Name. Even if the deputy was aggressive, she had always been smarter than this, or at least less suicidally reckless. Everyone made mistakes, the bandit surmised, nudging the scorched remains of the lawman with the tip of her steel-toed boot.

The wasteland survivor looked back over Jessie’s limp form, already drying in the heat. The first to shots, the ones that killed her, had been fired by the laser rifle that the bandit carried with her now. The laser had blasted untidy burrows straight through her chest and out her back, the heat cooking her insides as they went. Two good shots, center mass. Her third had missed, but that’s because the corpse was already falling when it came down the line.

She had remembered the crew stripping the deputy and the posse she’d brought along, so it wasn’t shocking to see that all food, water and Omnilium was missing. Even the badge was missing, ripped right off the shirt. Perhaps somebody wanted a prize, even though it was her kill. She didn’t want it anyways. Trophies were for people that had something to prove.

The wagon the posse of lawmen rode in on was just as devoid of information as the bodies and had been, for some reason, filled with just as many bullet holes. She supposed that supermutants weren’t too discerning in their selection of targets. After surveying the bloody ordeal once again, she surmised the late deputy and her rag-tag team of dead people were not the founts of insight she was looking for.

She stood up and broadened her search. The swirling sand had just enough form left to it to get the impression of tracks. Tire tracks and footprints were pretty easy to figure out; they came from the search party. They went in two directions: up the cliff and then back down it, with the descent on top of the ascent. They came down the cliff after they had gone up it, so that made sense. She already knew that though, she had seen it. But over top of those, there was a new set.

They didn’t go up or down the cliffs, they just appeared in front of a large, flat stone and went out to the carriage. Maybe one of the men had jumped from the cliffs? But the prints were too shallow for a jump; there was no impact. A set broad trench of sand had been pushed around the same point that the footprints vanished, as if something very large had been dragged from a few feet away. Some of the men that gone to the carriage after they had all shot it up, but then they diverted back to the vehicles. These went back up to the cliff, and disappeared again.

It was as though there was somebody that had entered the cliff itself, dragging something, and then exited back out of it, inspected the carriage and went back to where they had been in the first place. A large, flat stone stood in front of her, the same stone she had thought looked out of place when she had arrived with the hunting party.

Taking a few steps back, the woman lifted her laser rifle and fired a few pulses into the smooth stone in front of her. Slinging the weapon, she stepped a few paced and threw herself forward into a heavy kick, her heel impacting the area between her loose shot group with a loud crack. The sandstone split from bottom to top and folded in on itself, falling back into the small alcove that lay hidden behind it.

There were boot prints in the sand. There had been a person hiding inside, and the entire search party looked right past them. Bigger prints too, looked like a camel. Probably the thing that had been dragged in. The beast’s prints plod off into the sand, mixed in with the rest of the leaving prints, making them easy to miss at first glance.

Frantically, she followed the large animal’s trail out of the alcove and into the desert. They wound around the cliff, diverging from the search party’s, and bolted towards The Town With No Name.
---

“I hear you are in need of a new deputy,” the tall, red-skinned man said curtly and tossed the charred remains of the badge onto Roland’s desk.

The sheriff froze for a moment, staring at the blackened chunk of gold. “Oh, Jessie…” he said mournfully, “I blame you not.” A faint trace of an old dialect found its way into his words, in the way an immigrant might slip into their native tongue in a moment of shock. He snatched it off of the desk and held it up to the light. His eyes betrayed a deeper sense of loss than his old face was willing to expose.

Shaking his head he tucked the badge into his pocket, and the clatter of gold on gold could be heard. He looked back to the alien that stood before him and folded his fingers over each other. “What happened?”

“She attempted to stop a force much larger than her own,” Sinestro said disdainfully, a single hazel eye glaring out from under his wide-brimmed hat. “She lost.”

Roland leaned back, his left hand idly drumming as he lost himself in thought. “The explosion. She went to investigate.”

“Yes, it would seem,” Thaal concurred. “I don’t think that she had seen Sledge’s gang in those numbers before their altercation. Up until now, I have only noticed them sending out members in twos or threes.”

Roland’s head snapped to attention, “You know who leads the gang? Who’d you say? Sledge?”

Scowling, the korugaran tilted his hat back and revealed the full effect of his utter disapproval. “You don’t even know who their leader is?” He shook his head, “I have only been in this sun-blasted hellhole for a week and I’ve already made two attacks on their men.”

“So it was you that caused the explosion?” the sheriff pressed.

“Yes,” Thaal spat bluntly. “It is my intention to help bring order to this desolation. I have been making moves against their forces ever since I arrived.”

Pushing himself forward and leaning on his desk, Roland spat, “Listen, I don’t need any outlaws out there stirring the shitpot more than it’s already stirred, you got me? Things are bad enough without some a-hole starting wars in our back yard.”

Sinestro folded his arms, his long woolen poncho giving a faint dusting of sand as his rough hands pressed into his chest. He turned his chin up at the man, “So you intend to let your people wallow in this pit?”

“No, I intend to keep the damn peace.” Falling back into his seat with exasperation, Roland looked away from the red man and tilted his head towards the door. “Thanks for the news, now get the hell out of my office.”

The korugaran slammed his fist down into the desk and hissed, “I am the only one here that can bring an end to this. I am the only person you’ve met that’s willing to do what must be done to re-forge this barren into a place worth being alive in.”

Throwing himself from his chair and sending it flying backwards, Roland jabbed a finger in Sinestro’s direction, “Listen! I don’t need another guy that can shoot other guys. We got plenty of that around here! You fucks are a dime a dozen! I’m not looking for another trigger happy nutbag for a deputy!”

“Your grief is showing, sheriff.” The masterful manipulator quipped, twisting the knife of grief and doubt into the sheriff’s recent wound. His hands slipping behind his back as he paced, his words cool and and matter-of-fact as he spoke, “What you need is somebody who can control the dunes. Somebody that can crush them down to be built up into something greater.”

“Oh yeah, and what exactly can you do that nobody else can?” the sheriff asked, biting firmly onto the baited promise.

A snide smirk spread on Sinestro’s lips. “I can make them afraid.”

Happy birthday Joe!! (aka that slutbag Trixie)




Don't be stingy with that cake, either.

Misc > Guu
Love: Princess and the Hand
By Hamsterjank
Guu finds new love in a former enemy of her's. Could she win over a sorrowful soul?
Rated: Fiction M – English – Romance/Mature – Misc – Chapters: 1 – Words: 466 - Reviews: 8 – Faves: 15 – Follows: 20- – Updated: 2 minutes ago
------------------------------------------------------------------A+ A- A = T O--------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late at night; the forest around the campsite was shrouded by the darkness, the moonlight doing nothing to highlight one tree from another. Only the dim light from the campfire did anything to reveal the forest, but only dimly lit the nearest logs. Luffy and Desco were sleeping soundly around the fire, the rubber pirate snoring loudly amongst the symphony of crickets.

Guu was awake, keeping watch for any jump attacks. Beside her on the log, was Tartaros’s disembodied hand. She slowly scooches over to it.

“I was always wondering, why did you only stay with one man in your life?” She asked. The hand turned towards Guu and through a complex series of hand singles, communicates his history.

“Ever since the days of my youth, he’s been the only one there for me. We’ve been inseparable. Well, him, my twin, and I. However…” He signals that he was getting choked up at this part. Guu moved in and held his pinkie finger in support. “However… he… he would regularly force me to do sex acts on him.”

“Oh my god!” yelled Guu melodramatically. But the hand continued.

“Yeah, sometimes everyday. And to make it worse, he still expected me to be his wingman when he came onto women. The second I cramp up in depression, he’d get angry at me, like it affected him personally or something.”

“Well, why did you stay with him for so long? Why did it take our intervention to break up with him.”

“I…” he motions that he paused here. “I just wasn’t strong enough. I was never strong enough. I could not live up the expectations. I mean, people use words like ‘handy’ to describe the highly capable, and look at me now! I couldn’t even save against a lightsaber!”

Guu had scooched up to the point that she has bumped into him. He immediately palms her hip in what would be a hug in this context instead of a sexual harassment lawsuit.

“You don’t need to be physical strong to be strong in the real way. Maybe all you need is love from someone who supports you.” The hand turns it’s fingers up as if looking at her. “Maybe that someone is me?”

The hand recoiled in shock.

“How could you want somebody like me? I’m pathetic.”

“Because you are the most wonderful hand I’ve ever met and I love you.” She looks at him, her eyes intense. He looks look up and joins her gaze. Suddenly she picks him up. “Give me some face, palm.”

“High five?”

And Guu kissed the inside of the hand, intimately smooching it for an excessively long time before pulling away. Then the hand climb onto her shoulder and made its way to her lower half. Guu gasped.

“Oh hand!”


------------------------ (Meanwhile, in the comments section)
Davidkillah
You are fucking disgusting. The hell is wrong with you?


Hotfingers222011123
I ship it!


Gilgameshfan4532
Why did you stop there? I wanted to see what happened next!


Monkledehlaugha
Trolololololol


Memetastic5900
I guess Guu *puts on sunglasses* gave him a hand. “Yeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!”

Just a list of the new verbs that are being made from this event, if you think of anymore comment

Alain'd: Doing very well at first but then ending with a Lubbock'd
When used in a sentence: You are doing so well, be careful with your movement though or you might get Alain'd

Ambrosia'd: walking into any situation with multiple opponents that almost kills you
When used in a sentence: Neal is about to get Ambrosia'd

Blackfire'd: Taking a course of action only for it to result in an epic fail.
When used in a sentence: Crona decided to go for the EE, but it Blackfire'd on him as he ended up dying.
When used in a sentence (2): Okor deciding not to use the GG in the F2F with Link and Ganondorf Blackfire'd, as their ally Tart ended up dying.

Carn'd - to be caught off guard, dropping whatever you had been carrying and escape
in a sentence: Carn Carn'd from Ganondorf and Link's explosive date.

Crona'd: Take a butt-load of damage in the very first few F2Fs for the day (especially the first day!)

DP'd - To have Deadpool completely rip your character within his 4th Wall tirades.
Used in a sentence:
Flash'd: Run into your first F2F without knowing who in the name of Omni is about to attack, or how powerful they are. Proceed to die. Works best in Easter Egg battles.
Used in a sentence: Neal pulled a Flash, resulting in him getting owned by Ganondorf.

Gilgamesh'd- To actively search for fights but always barely avoid danger
Used in a sentence:

Gin'd: A cross between Alain'd and Retane'd where after surviving one f2f with minor damage you get brutally murderized in the next.
Used in a sentence: ( Pending)

Hyrule'd: To escape from a fight you should have died in AND deal impressive damage to you foe in the process.

Jak'd- Being blown sky high by Jak's dynamite.
For example: The Rock was Jak'd.

Jon Snow'd - To appear out of nowhere unexpectedly and steal the entire limelight during an F2F, as well as surprise everybody with a "shock death".

Lubbock'd : to have a very bad string of luck that ends up leading to a quick demise
When used in a sentence: Wow Alain was doing great, until he got Lubbock'd

Mami'd: Die gruesomely because of leaving reasons

Retane'd : To be brutally murderized with little to no warning.
When used in a sentence : Oh my god did you read the easter egg f2f, flash got Retane'd

Sasuke'd- to have Sasuke declare your death as apart of his vengeance
Strazio'd: Make your opponent so mad they begin to beat you up with random s***

Tartaros'd: getting Lubbock'd or Alain'd but managing to avoid death with one health left
When used in a sentence any suggestions?)

Victor'd -- Completely changing the entire dynamic of the game in the span of a day

If I got anything wrong let me know , this is an ongoing project after all mug:

Hey all! I am planning to form the Revolutionary Army from this fella's home anime/manga, Akame ga Kill! So, for now, I need to become more renowned and I need to come up with a backstory to this Faction, but the main idea is this:

The Revolutionary Army is a large company who rebels against the ways of Camelot, fighting against the laws and rules placed upon citizens by the kingdom. Their goal: destroy Camelot.

However, they don't just plan to weaken the walls. They are to attempt to take Camelot from the inside out. This is where Night Raid comes in: a group of trained assassins who carry out covert ops and assassinations in the dead of night for the Army. This small group could be the downfall to the giant kingdom.

Well, that's it for now. May want to rethink the reason why they are fighting, but that'll come along.

Please post here if you are interested in joining RA, and also mention if you'd like a spot in Night Raid!

Lubbock stepped through the gate onto the familiar white floor that was the Nexus. He raised one arm up in a stretch, feeling the muscle and bone pop a little, before progressing to his other arm.

"I guess that was just a stroke of bad luck," Syura reassured Lubbock. The teen stoppped stetching and sighed.

"I know, but... I mean, I'm an assassin, I should have lasted - " he began.

"You were up against other mercenaries and assassins, most probably better trained than you. Don't let it get to your head. Just get stronger and you can win whatever may come up next," he told him kindly, which is rather surprising for the voice. Lubbock whistled.

"Wow, you've learned both a sense of humour and sympathy. Good job, my friend," he stated sarcastically. It was obvious that Syura would have been grimacing right at that moment.

He began to take a couple of strides towards the center, but noticed something was off - there was no gate, and instead it was replaced with a giant fist, scarily resembling the foam fists he had in the abyss. I think someone's out to piss me off... he told himself, eyebrow twitching slightly in fury.

He strode up towards it and placed a hand against the stone, build to look like muscle - muscle that turned out to be fake in the abyss. If he had have received something better - at least like that cold chick's crossbow - he could have survived longer. He punched the cold rock at the thought, then reeled back quickly as the pain struck his knuckles and he held his hand between his thighs, trying to stop the pain.

Finally stopping with his onslaught of curse words and other unnecessary acts, Lubbock turned to look at the gates all around him. He'd already travelled into the Beach-babe gate, and that didn't turn out to be any fun whatsoever. Fricking crabs... he reminisced at the thought. He took a look at the other areas, and none seemed to fit his tastes - although, the one that looked like it was frozen over seemed rather interesting.

Remembering how tiring it was to get to a single damn gate, Lubbock attempted something - he began to summon a horse, a common form of transportation where he was from. Easily enough, the large form of the animal took shape, the muscles built powerful and and the figure sleek. Finally, the black-haired beast was standing there, whipping its head around and ready to be ridden. He strode up to it and reached a hand out, stroking the soft, black hair. He lifted a leg up and pushed onto the rigid back. However, before he could ride away, a familiar face passed through the gate.

I attempted a drawing of Lubbock! Check it out!