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1 yr ago
Current Fuck yeah, girlfriend. Sit on that ass! Collect that unemployment check! Have free time 'n shit!
4 likes
3 yrs ago
Apologies to all writing partners both current & prospective. Been sick for two weeks straight (and have to go to work regardless). No energy. Can't think straight. Taking a hiatus. Sorry again.
3 likes
3 yrs ago
[@Ralt] He's making either a Fallout 4 reference or a S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Clear Sky reference i can't tell
2 likes
3 yrs ago
"Well EXCUUUUSE ME if my RPs don't have plot, setting, characters, any artistry of language like imagery/symbolism, or any of the things half-decent fiction has! What am I supposed to do, improve?!"
4 likes
3 yrs ago
Where's the personality? The flavor? the drama? The struggle? The humanity? The texture of the time and the place in which this conversation is happening? In a word: where's the story?
2 likes

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Most Recent Posts

"Georg!" cried the barkeep. He'd rounded a corner or two and begun shouting at the kitchen staff back there. He was pleased nonetheless; when he got a hold of good, fresh produce, he made damn sure, to the best of his abilities, that that was the first thing he sold out of. Scraps had to be thrown away before they festered, and what did the mutant wood-pigs ever do to deserve such fine dining, anyway? What did he owe them? He'd feed these rindsrouladen to someone's pet dog first.

When he was done shouting he switched back to English, having returned to the bar with a heaving belly. "Anyway, where are you people headed after you're filled up?" He left the question aimed ambiguously at everyone and no one. Some of the men in this room were pure cowards, he knew; something out there spooked them and they hadn't left a small radius around the village since. They poked at the hills and forests trying to find their bravery lying in the mud, and then they ran back to the bar to get drunk and the old hamlet to sleep it off. He didn't judge them for that, but it meant no interesting stories, and certainly no new employees. He couldn't offer well-paying jobs to those people.


Meanwhile...



"Take it easy, baby, easy! This isn't a holdup."

Marcel was true to his word; there really was honor among thieves. Or he at least found some value in his relationship with the courier, a reliable and trustworthy employee. He tried to make it clear that people who didn't fuck him didn't need to fear a fucking in reply. Either way, no one shot her, and once he waved them down, the French bulldogs appeared to relax around the outsider, despite her visible weaponry. When he sent her away, a fraction of the money she carried with her was hers, no questions asked.

Then again, when he sent her away, and she was out of earshot, then the highwayman evidently found his scoundrel side.

"Follow her," he murmured, as he watched her leave1. "Not too close or she'll see you."


Meanwhile...



Once is chance. Twice is coincidence. Third is enemy action.

Or so they say. Nonetheless, the air repeated itself in an ugly, mangled loop of noise; someone nearby, someone in the farmhouse, was snoring. It reverberated down a staircase and around a corner; yes, someone was inside, and if he was alone, his guard was down. Like the chain of a broken chainsaw, like its sputtering, smoke-choking engine. But why? This place couldn't possibly be a long-term settlement, a stronghold; the walls were thin and papery as a wasp's nest, sooner to fall to a light rainfall than a battering ram! So who was he? No; if she was a careful stalker, she had to assume the worst. So who were they?

Some kind of rovers, if they couldn't make permanent shelter of this place. Treasure hunters, burglars, scouts to a larger hunting party; the list of possibilities was long. To some it was frighteningly so.

New Dark Fantasy prompt is up.

@Gowi Are you interested in that time period in general, or in that particular setting too (ie. modern-day England and Wales)?
@ThatWeirdChick Dang, yours wait til you've gotten invested in the threads before bailing? Mine can't even afford me that.
?

None of the examples in my post are Oxford commas, so I don't see the point in arguing that.
@Gutshot Neither. It's what he would have done. But now there's a robot on the mission who can take the whole gang down singlehandedly.




"Send me a text with the name of the bar you want your beer from, Tammy. I'll meet you there," said Gil. If they weren't reconnoitering that evening then there was something he needed to fetch first. He had learned very early into his career why Sun Tzu was required reading for the agency: why "No plan survives first contact with the enemy" also were words worth memorizing.

He had planned to get mugged. With just enough money in his pocket to lower the thugs' suspicions a little (if they found nothing in your pockets then you were hiding your cash in your socks, and so on), they'd run off satisfied and be on their merry way. And in doing so they would have told Gil three things: their numbers, their modus operandi, and last, their surroundings. With Tammy posing as the member of a rival gang, putting a bullet through a single head, at some later date, from an unseen place on one of the nearby roofs, a message would have been passed along with minimal violence and mess. No one had to risk getting surrounded and outmatched; no one was walking away with missing teeth.

Now the robot was coming. Now there was going to be open conflict in the streets, and frankly, a sniper wasn't needed at all; Tammy could hide in NERON's chest cavity and neither would be put in harm's way. All danger had subsided, and so had all subtlety, which, while good for the streets, was not so fortunate for a man who needed food to eat, and money to buy food. So as Gil passed the bulletin board again, he scanned the Burn the Kitchen entry one last time. Taking note that it gave no real insights into location, time, or any other details which Gil could use to find one of the "chefs," he realized that one would take some time. So he remembered Mr. Nandati's name, and resolved to ask Blaque about the address in just a little while, via phone.

He'd slip away once the fighting started. He wasn't needed. With that settled, he began toward his room, to grab his coat and briefcase.
I'll wait for @Fyre Unholy a little while longer. If his post isn't up on Monday then I'll move forward.


Well...you tried.

Reply will be up soon. I'd like for both my internet connection and the Guild's login issues to be fixed soon, but I'll write it in Word if I have to.

I've met a lot of people who are intimidated by the Advanced section of the forums. This thread would be a good PSA to those people: no one is perfect, especially those who pretend to be.
I'll wait for @Fyre Unholy a little while longer. If his post isn't up on Monday then I'll move forward.
So do we always do sidequests in the other thread?
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