Having COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN about your maiden captive, you are in the middle of an IMPORTANT BUSINESS TRANSACTION. It was not very simplesome, very grueling HARD, and took quite a lot of your power to acquire the Fate Book, but now you're getting what you came for.
You are at O'MALLEY'S, your favorite META-TAVERN in the WHITE CITY. You like it because it's cheap, filthy, and the hostesses don't USUALLY try to eat you after your business, though once you had a nasty run in with a parasite that tried to replace your head. They also serve CANDARIAN BLOOD MALT which is illegal in about 99% of the other districts of the city. At least, the ones that are semi-permanent.
The book is COLD in your claws, as they always are. You hate the dark magic that surrounds it something fiercely, it makes you itchy and you're gladsome to be rid of it.
Sitting across the table from you are two minions of BAALZ-ABAB in their pressed suits and lapels. You were always a bit jealous of their FANCISOME get up, but then again, you value your ability to drink, wench, and murder freely. Being part of the largest crime family in the metaverse run by a BLACK MASTER OF DESPAIR seems a little too directed for your tastes.
But they do have a lot of gold.
You've done good work, my friend, says the small one. The big one remains silent. He gives you the shivers something worrisome. The gold and hundredweight soulstrate will be a secure account at the Goblin's Union three particks from now.
He pauses, as though expecting something to happen. The book, you say, pushing your cheek as you are wont to do, and mainly because you are terribly, terribly curious and prone to outbursts of incredibly rudeness, what does Old Scratch awant with it anyway?
He's got most of the others, says the little one hoarsely. Some crock of shit about Fate and how a VIRGIN with a HAIR OF TWO COLORS is destined to slay him.
You scratch yourself knowingly and nod, not having any idea what he's talking about.
Say, you don't recognize this do you? Old Bones is offering a Duchy and two thousandweight soulstrate for her capture, for his harem, he says. If ya ever lay eyes on her pretty little mug, me and AVASH here will split the bounty three ways, devil's word. Under the table like. Personally I don't know what's so special about her, she ain't even got horns to speak of.
Well that's interesting. That's very interesting.
You may have just concocted a plan to get FILTHY RICH.
Allison: vomit! Vomit like your life depends on it! And use your new-found knowledge to figure out what the fuck to do! (Knowledge blasts work like that, right? I don't know.)
Eye of Gog Agog: do some magic or something! Those Baalz-Abab goons are going to try and kidnap your host, and she's destined to kill Baalz-Abab! This is her purpose, and by extension, yours as well!
Oscar: have a change of heart or something. Punch those guys with about 340 arms each.
Allison and Oscar: Immediately forge a friendship as warriors are wont to do in the thick of battle. Let nothing but the two of you leave this bar alive; not even the insects. Especially not even the insects.
> Oscar: You have some options here. You could pretend that you meant to do that, and split the WENCH MONEY three ways. Or you could grab her and run, and try to concoct a plan to get all the money. Say, are you the kind of demon who is happy to cooperate and share with other demons if it means keeping out of trouble? Because I don't think you are.
My Pesterchum handle is sulfurateSynteresis. I always welcome any conversation.
Originally Posted by Mass Effect 2
Doing a good deed is like pissing yourself in dark pants; it gives you a warm feeling, but no one seems to notice.
Originally Posted by Moldova in Eurovision 2011
fuck books and clothes
all of my money goes towards food
but in a hedonistic sense, not a survival sense.
Originally Posted by Kíeros
Originally Posted by John E
I like limestone,just dont take it for granite!
That wasn't a gneiss pun. It was just schist.
Okay, that wasn't dissing you; it was just talc.
Originally Posted by thegreenspark
So a seemingly insignificant item from the beginning of the story is suddenly and literally RAGE'd into existence by a bloodthirsty purple alien juggalo, and the very same item connects randomly and equally insignificant-looking events to explain the cause of pretty much every bad thing in the story.
And it was all Betty Crocker's doing, because she tweeted an ICP video to a time traveling hipster wannabe on a site called Delirious Biznasty. In the past. Also, she's an alien too.
For those keeping score at home, this made things less confusing.
Welcome to Homestuck.
Originally Posted by Staff Deployment
Clearly it wasn't real
Clearly YOU'RE not real
Go away not-real person and stop being not real
(don't actually go away Morphimus; i love you Morphimus please have my children, Morphimus you are the only light in my otherwise dismal existence)
Originally Posted by Qeztotz
you know morphimus
you are a genius
Originally Posted by thetoastking
Oh. A gifted from your army's gotten in again. No doubt he abused his psychic abilities to get past your guards in order to play a practical joke on you.
You shoot Psy-Soldier Morphimus in the head without batting an eye. You don't like killing your soldiers, but the man has no self-control. His pranks simply went too far at times, and that's that.
Originally Posted by Phantos
Morphimus, I don't know what to say. It's hard to see the keyboard when I am crying from joy.
Originally Posted by Curris
Well done Morphimus . You, sir, are a gentleman and a scholar.
Originally Posted by Kyky25
...your artwork is, once again, fantastic
MSPA style self description:
Your name is MORPHIMUS. As was previously mentioned it is your BIRTHDAY. You have quite a variety of INTERESTS. You have a fondness for ROLEPLAYING GAMES OF A TABLETOP PERSUASION. You like to program computers but you DON'T REALLY KNOW HOW TO PROGRAM. You like to use your IMAGINATION particularly involving MEDIEVAL FANTASY. You have been meaning to use the KEYBOARD your guardian gifted to you to create some music, but you HAVEN'T REALLY GOTTEN AROUND TO IT. You like to play GAMES with friends all the time.
You like to converse with your pals, most of which don't use Pesterchum, speaking of Pesterchum, you have been trying out a new chat client beta called PESTERCHUM. Your chumhandle is sulfurateSynteresis and you Type in a manner that is usually proper, but you some times misspell words and misuse commas and semicolons here and there.
What will you do?