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Recent Statuses

3 yrs ago
Current is sexualizing Pokemon a variation of bestiality?
3 likes
3 yrs ago
lol. lmao
7 likes
3 yrs ago
JOHN TABLE!
1 like
4 yrs ago
hearing rumors that rebornfan is storming the US capitol, looking for whoever's responsible for everyone ghosting his RPs
14 likes
4 yrs ago
you got a fat ass and a bright future ahead of you. keep it up champ
1 like

Bio

Most Recent Posts

But what about the Codpiece?


is that

HIM?!!
I suggest they do battle in a mud pit, preferably to the death
Throwing out interest for Wonder Woman!
Hey, @Cybermaxx. Post more. I like reading the Titan stuff. That is all.


I am notorious unreliable but I will do my best.

also UwU thanks daaaad~
So that was shorter than I was hoping my next post would be, but it was technically already late and if I saw myself in the post check-in again I'd prolly cry. Hoping to get the next leg of Stephanie's j o u r n e y up in the next few days!

'The Brown House' - East Warrens, Santa Marta
Issue #1.02: Have a Little Faith

'Hi, my name's Stephanie Brown. This is my bedroom.'

The clock strikes 6:00 AM and an alarm goes off on her smartphone. Its Michael Buble's cover of Feeling Good blaring out at max volume, demanding she rise to meet the morning. Steph gargled out a groan and rolled over until she was close enough to the nightstand to smack the screen, silencing it. A machine wasn't about to tell her how to live her life.

'And that's...me! I've never been very good at waking up.'

It was 6:30 AM, announced the alarm, and it was time to get up! The soothing yet energetic sound of jazz drifted through the bedroom, joined by the first rays of sunlight to peak through the window. It was a brand new day for Santa Marta, California, and the first day back to school since the pandemic came to an end. It was a day full of possibilities, hopes, aspirations...and Stephanie wanted none of it. She scrambled to mute her alarm for a second time before she was too awake to regret it.

'Never been very good at anything normal, really.'

7:00 AM rolled around and Michael Buble started singing right on schedule-

...Aaannnd Stephanie promptly shut him up before he could get two words out. She was quite on top of the whole 'not waking up' thing.

'But- given the whole cluster that was my childhood- can you really blame me?'

A knock on the door came at 7:45 AM. "Steph, honey, are you almost ready?" Crystal Brown called. "I spotted the bus stopped down the road while I was making us breakfast and came to check up on you." She paused for a beat, listening for a reply that didn't come. "Its waffles, bacon and eggs, by the way, just how you like them! I figured it would be a good way to celebrate going back to school after such a long hiatus. I know this pandemic's made things difficult, especially after the move, but I think..."

'That's my mom: my last, great anchor to reality. She rescued me from Bludhaven almost two years ago, now, no questions asked. I'd do anything for her- except eat her cooking.'

Stephanie blinked the crust off of her eyes and sat up, her head pounding. The sun was shining right in her face, she could hear her mother's muffled speech from other side of the door, and what was rapidly becoming her least favorite song in the world was playing in the background. Sliding out of bed, Steph stumbled over to the nightstand and plucked up her phone to shut it up. Then she saw the time.

"Shit!" She could've sworn it was six-something the last time she checked! How long had she dozed off for?

"Hey!" Mom yelled, her voice muffled by the door between them, "Language!"

Blankets went flying as she leapt outta bed, making a mad dash for her wardrobe. The bus would be gone in five minutes, tops. No time to get ready. Had to throw on the first pair of clothes she found. Deodorant was basically a shower in a can, right? That'd do. Hairbrush for the road. Grab the backpack outta the corner she'd tossed it in all those months ago. Try to tie her shoes and walk at the same time. Fail, fall over. Ouch. Finish tying before getting up. Was that everything?

She looked to the chest at the foot of her bed and her gaze lingered. Its body was all black save for the gold on its hinges, trimmings and lock. The colors were desaturated, the surface scratched and worn down by time. That chest's contents were all she'd brought with her when she left home.

'I already know what you're going to say. "Steph, you're paranoid! You should be packing rulers, notebooks and, like, calculators, not a grappling hook!" And I know, I know- you're right. You're right! The chances something goes wrong? Super low. But, on the off-chance something DID happen-'

Another knock on her door shook her out of it. "Sweetie, are you okay? You're going to be late!" Her mom called.

'No. No, not this time.' Stephanie sprung to her feet and made for the door, quick as could be.

Crystal started to turn the doorknob and step inside. "-You can't be late on your first day of senior year, Steph. After all, you're-"

Stephanie bolted right past her mom, nearly knocking her over in the process. "Sorry! In a hurry!" She called over her shoulder as she jumped onto the stairway handrail and started sliding down it. "Oh, and-"

@Retired, I believe of all of the suggestions so far, you brought forth the best solution. I absolutely agree that the idea of events being spread out rather than kept solely to the middle and end of seasons could be a very fun experiment in driving up the game's interactivity. I've already discussed options with @Hillan regarding how we want to implement this as a system going forward, and he's on the same page. So, with that in mind, everyone should be ready to see an announcement in the next few days.

Also, I've decided on a new rule. In order to ease the more militant idea of strict posting deadlines, even though the rule will remain to post at least once every two weeks, I've decided that I'm going to replace the Weekly Post Check with The Bi-Weekly Post Check instead.

In conjunction, I will be utilizing the "expiration" method of roster duty to give players more of a chance to gather themselves in what are undoubtedly very troubled times in all of our outside lives. As such, the player characters in red on the roster will now indicate who is halfway to roster removal rather than who is past the point of character ownership. After a month in red, a character is removed. But in that month, players have the chance to resume at their convenience.

I hope this makes sense, and if there are any questions, feel free to ask. But I think this can help to both address the fact that this is a slower game getting off the ground and that circumstances are a bit different for everybody with COVID-19 heightening problems all around.


good post king :thumbsup:
What is today but yesterday's tomorrow?

11:00 PM | 'The Chapel' - Uknown, somewhere in the Santa Marta Metro Area
Issue #1.00: Have a Little Faith

A young woman entered the chapel, her cheeks freshly stained with tears. She stumbled into the dark sanctuary, nearly tripping over her own feet with every step. It felt like concrete blocks were tied around her ankles. Exhaustion seeped into every inch of her body, threatening to drag her to the ground at any moment. It'd been the same the whole walk here. Jordanna Spence couldn't remember the last time she slept, or ate, or did anything much at all except wallow in the pain.

Unspeakable, unrivaled pain.

There were other people in the room, yet she was only dimly aware of them. Like silent shadows dancing at the edges of her vision. All were pilgrims like herself, seeking answers in the dark. And it was quite dark here. A handful of tall windows lined the sanctuary but the shutters were locked down tight enough that the light of a full moon could scantly pass through them. The only light source, dim as it was, was a single candle placed atop an 'altar.' In reality, it was little more than an upturned milk crate draped in an old bed sheet. The chapel's original altar, along with the rest of its furniture, had either been smashed to bits by intrepid explorers or withered away by time.

The pilgrims did not mind sitting on the floor, dust and bugs and broken boards be damned. Nothing about the physical space they occupied appeared to bother them. New people shuffling in would bump against them and those seated wouldn't even flinch. Someone would give a sudden scream or babble incoherently in a loud voice and no one would so much as shush them. It was as if their minds were all somewhere else entirely.

Only after reaching their destination did Jordanna's legs buckle. Her knees slammed against the hardwood at a harsh angle; it hurt tremendously, yet she could nary muster the energy to yelp. Tilting her head up let her see that she'd fallen at the step of the altar. She threw her hands back and fell on her rear to escape the candle's light, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. One was not supposed to enter the light while sin still lingered in one's heart.

She wasn't sure how she knew that.

'What am I meant to do now?' She wondered to herself, glancing at the nearest gaggle of people. She couldn't make out many details in the darkness but they looked as ordinary as she did. Their shoes were well-worn and their clothing unremarkable. A few- like her- had a layer of grim stuck to their skin and hair, as if they hadn't showered in days or weeks. She even recognized a few of her neighbors. People she never would've guessed would end up all the way out here in a place like this. Hopelessness could conquer anyone, she supposed.

"You are meant to open yourself up to the possibility, child..." Someone said to her. She snapped back to reality and traced her eyes up their body to a face she couldn't have expected. He was a tall man with a hefty build and a shaggy beard, wrapped up in a decades-old Army jacket. His voice, though, was most striking: he sounded like a woman- like the most beautiful woman Jordanna had never seen.

Jordanna's jaw trembled. Her voice was caught in her throat. All she could do was sit and stare at the man as he answered her thoughts aloud. She had heard the rumors...She wouldn't have come all this way if there wasn't a chance it was true, but...

"Its real." She finally managed to breathe. "God, its all real." She felt a pressure building up in her chest. She was seconds from breaking out in sobs again.

The old man knelt down in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder. His hand was warm- so much so that his warmth began to spill over her, soothing that terrible, aching pain that filled her down to her very bones. Jordanna couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

"Tell me your pain, child. Tell me what brings you to my church." They said.

Shaking, Jordanna reached out to him and he took her hand in his. She looked up into his eyes and poured out her soul to him. "My dad- my dad was sick. So sick. He fought so hard to stay with us-" her voice trembled, and she sounded distraught, but she didn't feel it at all. Jordanna just felt his warmth rushing over her. Trying to fight against it was like trying to swim in a hurricane. Maybe it'd all be better if she just let it take her.

"And you wanted him to come see me." They whispered in reply.

Jordanna nodded emphatically. "I was willing to try anything. Anything at all; no matter how- how crazy it sounded. But my dad, he just..." Tears fell down her cheeks in long, hot streaks, yet still she felt no pain. "He said God would protect him until the cure came to our part of town. He said the doctors were coming- we just had to be patient. He told me not to give up-"

"-Hope." They finished, and Jordanna nodded again. "Your father was a wise man. Hope is our strongest tool against despair. I am sorry I had not gotten to your father in time, child. You were right to point him to me. My touch heals any who wills it to do so. But that is not why you came."

Blinking the tears from her eyes, Jordanna looked up again. The old man looked different now. His eyes were the most brilliant green she'd ever seen. And his face was softer, somehow. She couldn't explain what had changed yet some part of her knew it had.

"His passing took hope from you, and you have lived in despair ever since." Their mouth twisted in a small frown, as if sharing the pain she could not herself feel. "The misery that consumes you is as dangerous as any sickness, child, and if you had not come to me in time it could have taken you as well."

"I just want it to stop hurting so much." The words tumbled out of her mouth like vomit. There was so much pain in her voice, and yet...Jordanna was numb to it. It frightened her.

"I can take it away from you. What you feel now is but a fraction of the healing I can offer." A hand grabbed at Jordanna's chin and tilted her eyes up. It felt like a cloud was holding onto her, even as its grip tightened. "My help costs you nothing, child. All you must do is be willing. Truly willing."

There was a pause. The room was pitch black and silent as the grave- Jordanna couldn't even hear her own breathing. She closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind, yet it raced at a million miles a minute. She had heard the stories, both awe inspiring and terrible. She knew there were risks. She knew if her mother ever found out she was practicing witchcraft that her life was over. But Jordanna had tried living with it. She had tried moving on.

It wasn't working.

This was the only ending where she saw herself live on to fight another day.

'I'm sorry, mom. Dad.'

"Okay."

Jordanna opened her eyes and the old man was gone.



"Welcome to the Church of Many Faces, little sister." The Enchantress smiled down at her. "We have work to do."
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