(Collab)
Outskirts of Seven Hills
Two Girls, One Trap
It was so generic that Reisstan felt like deforming the terrain, but none of them were Sorcerers, nor would his anti-environment actions be unnoticed by those white knights patrolling around the place like a bunch of anti-fun moderators. The BDC, all three members, had been camping out in the woods for close to a week now, apparently ostracized from the general player population due to their past actions.
Sure, they stomped on the throats of Assassins in the past, and could be viewed as an elitist Guild who were racist (class-ist?) against ranged and heal-y bastards, but really?
Well, it didn’t matter in the end. Trophy-hunting was going to start up by the end of this day regardless.
“Guess this is going to be our graduation death battle then?” the pale Bard said, hopping off from one of the many generic old-growth trees that plagued the outskirts.
~
The dwarf Paladin spat on the ground as she rose from her squatting position, rolling her eyes as she hefted her halberd.
“Fucking mudak(asshole) weeaboo.” The loli smirked as she stepped forward, an uncharacteristically deep male Russian accent coming out of her mouth. “Guess we don’t have anything better to do for the moment. Can’t even go into town to get Swordsmithing mats. God damn Kings. Won’t even let me kill time by crafting.” The redheaded girl scowled.
The third member of the party sighed, throwing up her hands as she did so. A frying pan was in one of them; the exorcist of the party had been preparing food for the last ten minutes. “Not even that. We can’t even get to the house. That’s messed up. There are civil liberties, jeez.” Lamenting her fortune, she held up the pan again, now filled with eggs from the makeshift fire she’d set up.
“Now, did you want the cardboard eggs or the mush oatmeal?”
~
“I’ll just eat soggy bread. Though I guess they’d all be soggy bread, huh? You regret taking Cook subclass now, Ivy?” Reissten laughed at that overused joke, before rummaging through his own Bag of Holding and bring out something that at least looked like what it tasted like. “Makes me curious though, Intol. How do you even get <Tipsy> if your vodka is just water?”
~
“Fuck you.” Intolerance spat good-naturedly, smirking all the while. “I popped a bottle earlier. Didn’t even feel anything.” She groused, pulling another bottle of vodka out of her own Bag of Holding before starting to chug it down in one go. “See? Nothing but the stupid buff. At least before I could take a shot in real life every time I popped one of these in-game.”
Looking down at her creation distastefully, Ivy tossed the egg toward Reisstan before shotgunning the oatmeal. “Just you wait. I’m going to find some fucking recipe that won’t actually taste like stale crackers.” Making a putrid face, she stood up. “Well, what now?”
“Well, that’ll keep us occupied at least. God knows I could go for a steak and a Guinness. The one thing Britain does right with booze.” The dwarf said, staring at the ground for a moment. “I really want a fucking steak.”
~
Reissten made a face as Intol reminded him of ‘real’ food again. Not even bothering to dodge Ivy’s egg, even if he did sustain 4 points of damage from that ‘projectile weapon’, the Wolf Fang said, “Intol, can you not? Really hard to be content with bread if you talk about steak here.”
“And Ivy, we’re supposed to have our final in-Guild melee, remember? Winner takes all, before we start ganking some Kings?”
~
“Winner takes what? Everyone else’s ass? Because unlike you, I’m missing a fucking dick.” Intolerance snorted irreverently, shaking his head. “And yes, I checked.”
“Nice. Did you fap as well?”
“Go suck your mother’s cock.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Added the Exorcist, butting in between the two.
“I mean,” Reissten smirked, “Should be a very enjoyable situation for you, Intol. Swordsmithing should be very useful as well...”
“Yeah, to shove up your ass.” She twirled her halberd around, leveling the tip at Reissten. “And look at that. Now I’m motivated for your stupid deathmatch. Can we just go gank the Kings already? I’m pretty sure we’ve gotten more practice than them anyway.”
Ivy pointed at Intol with an idle hand. “This. What she said. I want my couch back.”
Reissten sidestepped Intol’s big stick. “If you want your couch back, you COULD just participate in this fight and kill yourself. You still have Seven Hills as your resurrection point, right?”
“Just because I’m an exorcist doesn’t mean I’m a pussy,” she countered.
“Seriously, this is stupid, Reissten. We’ve already practiced on each other enough. And god knows if one of us dies, they’re not getting their money back.”
“Man, you two suck,” Reissten said, sulking. “Fine, let’s go ganking or whatever. Doubt that the bigshots will be milling about at this point though.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe they’re too busy jerking each other off like the assholes they are,” Intolerance snarked as they proceeded to leave.
Ivy scoffed. “Oh boy. It’s like I’m on Reddit again.”
Outskirts of Seven Hills
Two Girls, One Trap
It was so generic that Reisstan felt like deforming the terrain, but none of them were Sorcerers, nor would his anti-environment actions be unnoticed by those white knights patrolling around the place like a bunch of anti-fun moderators. The BDC, all three members, had been camping out in the woods for close to a week now, apparently ostracized from the general player population due to their past actions.
Sure, they stomped on the throats of Assassins in the past, and could be viewed as an elitist Guild who were racist (class-ist?) against ranged and heal-y bastards, but really?
Well, it didn’t matter in the end. Trophy-hunting was going to start up by the end of this day regardless.
“Guess this is going to be our graduation death battle then?” the pale Bard said, hopping off from one of the many generic old-growth trees that plagued the outskirts.
~
The dwarf Paladin spat on the ground as she rose from her squatting position, rolling her eyes as she hefted her halberd.
“Fucking mudak(asshole) weeaboo.” The loli smirked as she stepped forward, an uncharacteristically deep male Russian accent coming out of her mouth. “Guess we don’t have anything better to do for the moment. Can’t even go into town to get Swordsmithing mats. God damn Kings. Won’t even let me kill time by crafting.” The redheaded girl scowled.
The third member of the party sighed, throwing up her hands as she did so. A frying pan was in one of them; the exorcist of the party had been preparing food for the last ten minutes. “Not even that. We can’t even get to the house. That’s messed up. There are civil liberties, jeez.” Lamenting her fortune, she held up the pan again, now filled with eggs from the makeshift fire she’d set up.
“Now, did you want the cardboard eggs or the mush oatmeal?”
~
“I’ll just eat soggy bread. Though I guess they’d all be soggy bread, huh? You regret taking Cook subclass now, Ivy?” Reissten laughed at that overused joke, before rummaging through his own Bag of Holding and bring out something that at least looked like what it tasted like. “Makes me curious though, Intol. How do you even get <Tipsy> if your vodka is just water?”
~
“Fuck you.” Intolerance spat good-naturedly, smirking all the while. “I popped a bottle earlier. Didn’t even feel anything.” She groused, pulling another bottle of vodka out of her own Bag of Holding before starting to chug it down in one go. “See? Nothing but the stupid buff. At least before I could take a shot in real life every time I popped one of these in-game.”
Looking down at her creation distastefully, Ivy tossed the egg toward Reisstan before shotgunning the oatmeal. “Just you wait. I’m going to find some fucking recipe that won’t actually taste like stale crackers.” Making a putrid face, she stood up. “Well, what now?”
“Well, that’ll keep us occupied at least. God knows I could go for a steak and a Guinness. The one thing Britain does right with booze.” The dwarf said, staring at the ground for a moment. “I really want a fucking steak.”
~
Reissten made a face as Intol reminded him of ‘real’ food again. Not even bothering to dodge Ivy’s egg, even if he did sustain 4 points of damage from that ‘projectile weapon’, the Wolf Fang said, “Intol, can you not? Really hard to be content with bread if you talk about steak here.”
“And Ivy, we’re supposed to have our final in-Guild melee, remember? Winner takes all, before we start ganking some Kings?”
~
“Winner takes what? Everyone else’s ass? Because unlike you, I’m missing a fucking dick.” Intolerance snorted irreverently, shaking his head. “And yes, I checked.”
“Nice. Did you fap as well?”
“Go suck your mother’s cock.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Added the Exorcist, butting in between the two.
“I mean,” Reissten smirked, “Should be a very enjoyable situation for you, Intol. Swordsmithing should be very useful as well...”
“Yeah, to shove up your ass.” She twirled her halberd around, leveling the tip at Reissten. “And look at that. Now I’m motivated for your stupid deathmatch. Can we just go gank the Kings already? I’m pretty sure we’ve gotten more practice than them anyway.”
Ivy pointed at Intol with an idle hand. “This. What she said. I want my couch back.”
Reissten sidestepped Intol’s big stick. “If you want your couch back, you COULD just participate in this fight and kill yourself. You still have Seven Hills as your resurrection point, right?”
“Just because I’m an exorcist doesn’t mean I’m a pussy,” she countered.
“Seriously, this is stupid, Reissten. We’ve already practiced on each other enough. And god knows if one of us dies, they’re not getting their money back.”
“Man, you two suck,” Reissten said, sulking. “Fine, let’s go ganking or whatever. Doubt that the bigshots will be milling about at this point though.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe they’re too busy jerking each other off like the assholes they are,” Intolerance snarked as they proceeded to leave.
Ivy scoffed. “Oh boy. It’s like I’m on Reddit again.”