Holmishire

Spam Tarot Readings

I would like you to use your deck to analyze the consequences that may result from following Nargle's readings.

EDIT: :D

I'm Leeching Off of Kaga

I would like you to use Deck B to analyze the consequences that may result from following Kagamine's readings.

EDIT: :D

If you are reading this, don't blink. Blink and you're dead.

Dervish said
When you fucking post literally pointless gifs to absolutely everything, you are no better than an ad bot and somehow have less intelligence and purpose. I mean, I'm the kind of guy who normally welcomes and encourages new people, but this is literally worth absolutely nobody's attention or response. Stone wall it.

As a matter of pure curiosity, I would wonder as to what extent this dislike reaches. Whether you remember it or not, I used quite a number of LotR gifs back on the OldGuild, though it was most certainly not my unique method of communication. Is it solely the pointlessness of the gifs in question that disturbs you, or also the common and repeated usage thereof?

Victoria Day

The Nexerus said
Where do you live that half of the city attends the same school as you?

Schoolville, BC.

Victoria Day

I was supposed to get a day off, but because of the International Baccalaureate, I had exams. Some of us almost missed them because a parade blocked off half the city from the school.

Pre-Guildfall Artefacts

Tempest said
Avatars

In the same vein, there was a period where a number of Spammers sported avatars made by one particular artist of animals wearing working-class uniforms. I'm having difficulty finding the artist, though.

EDIT: Also a day where there were dopple-gangers abound.

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Tempest said
I don't! A single one of those bullets hits a person, they're a goner. xD And I'm one of the potential victims with my character's placement, I do believe. : P

I imagined you as having run out of the building but still staying relatively far from the fog by the apartments, whereas I'm on a building that is close to parallel to the beast. In my mental spatial representation of the scene, you would be perpendicular to my line of fire, and totally safe.
] * [
] ^ [
] ° [,_
"W"""

(W is fog. Comma is me. Degree is beast. Arrow is tank. Star is you.)
But I guess it could be any layout.

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Tempest said
Also, Holmishire, this is all that I could think after reading your post.

All I was thinking about was this:


I much prefer your version succeeds. ; ]

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Eira, Mercy. South-East block.
Mech pilot: Medium armour, 2x.50cal, jets & supportsys.

---

She could hear the tank approaching, its treads grinding across the road. And she could feel the reverbrations of something else.

Her heart beat madly, and she could feel it pumping her ears, beating against her chest. Her hearing faded, her eyesight fizzled. Oh my [\i]God[i], she thought as true danger approached for the first time in her life. Tension was rising in her, her limbs were growing weak. She knew she'd lose control, she knew she'd fail. I'm going to die.

Then the tank passed, and behind it, the beast.

Suddenly, she felt calm. Her vision refocused, her ears cleared, her heart steadied. She had been trained for this, trained so that when the time for action came, she would be ready.

And it was damned well time for her to do something.

Retreating a couple meters from Roman, she pushed her feet into twin pedals, activating the jump jets. Bursts of concentrated combustion propelled her off the ground, and she barely made sense of her companion's words as Mercy tore up through the air.

The walls of the alley blew past her as she focused her gaze on the sky. The opening was fast approaching, and she felt the weight of her speed bear down on her before she was through, weakening the magnitude of the jets to land upon the roof of the adjacent building. Mercy heaved itself onto the edge of the roof, and Eira pulled both of her mini-guns up to aim at the beast's legs.

The building was a couple storeys tall, placing her above the beast but still close enough to allow her to shoot at it reliably. She figured—or at least she hoped—that the beast would be unable to reach her here, and at the same time, she hoped she would be the one to draw its attention. Unlike her allies, she carried a modicum of protection, as well as a reasonably defensible position.

And if things ever get too hot—she braced herself, fingers on the triggers—I can always just pop out the same way I came in.

With a click, she readied for alternating fire, switching between her guns in order to maintain a constant barrage whilst avoiding overheating. But so concentrated was she upon the enemy, that she failed to acknowledge the groan of the surface upon which she'd landed.

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Eira, Mercy. South-East block.
Mech pilot: Medium armour, 2x.50cal, jets & supportsys.

---

Pressing her fist onto her chest, she closed her eyes and listened to her heart beating. No matter how long she had spent training, nothing could relieve the pressure she now felt on the field.

Already strapped into her cockpit, and having run the diagnostics, Eira booted up Mercy. The groans of his steel and his gentle vibrations soothed her somewhat, but not nearly enough. She was scared. Thankfully, she had learned not to let her fear affect her concentration; if anything, it gave her more control over herself.

Taking the controls in her clammy hands and bracing herself, she took control of herself and of the metal warrior she manned.

At a light jog, she made her way towards the alleyway and cautiously joined Roman, guns at the ready in case of hidden enemies.

Clearing her throat, she activated the radio comm. "When the enemy approaches," she said to Roman, "give me some time to draw their attention. That way you can get in close and take out targets better suited to your size."