Ok besides maybe domestic terrorism against corps, but don't tell Jeff Bezos that.
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6 yrs ago
@Blackmist16 There is nothing cooler than bouncing on a homies dick, fam!
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6 yrs ago
Tick tick tock, it's salvia o clock, slapping around Shkreli with my digital cock. 9/11 inside job, click click, spent three fucking hours bouncing on my BOYS DICK
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7 yrs ago
No discord? But I had some really spicy opinions about the blacks!
I think the fact he views anything in terms of "this race is the best [at crime]" kind of outs him as a racist of some kind. To be fair, if I go to lets say Tacoma, WA and a bunch of black guys wearing blue/red along with black, I'm going to guess MAYBE bloods or crips and avoid them.
Edit: Also, he sure seems to know a lot of "black statistics". Almost as if he spent his days typing in "ARE BLACKS MORE LIKELY TO COMMIT CRIME" into google in his free time.
I doubt he typed "How many white serial killers are there" or "Crime statistics".
Here's a chart from the department of justice.
What you can take from this is whites and hispanics are just as (generally, more likely) to commit crimes against their own race (Though apparently blacks commit it equally to their race and whites)
Edit: It also means Blacks committed about 84% of the crimes against whites around 2012, soooooo
Can someone explain the appeal of Game of Thrones? Song of Ice and Fire?
The only thing I've heard about it is that people die a lot in it, when people least expect it. Why would I willingly get myself into a journey where I know that people I'll start liking will get killed off left and right? What's the point in that? It feels like I would be subjecting myself to torture. What's the appeal in that?
I'm very late on the bandwagon here, but I think that Game of Thrones is popular primarily because A: It's dark, edgy, and scandalous and B: It has a tv show, which is easier to digest than literary fiction (it would take at least 20 hours to read one 1,000 page book), which leads to more interest in the book version for people who don't read anything that doesn't have a visual equivalent. Also, the fact the prose is poor and basic, somewhat like a dollar-store version of Steven Kings writing, makes it easier to read.
Oh also people have shit taste. That's probably the real reason.
Guess she be searching for the key with Sagax. @Frizan Up for another collab? Anyone else who's interested can jump in too - the more the merrier and all that jazz.
Right, so me and @Mortarion devised a collab idea for the Frigate Fighttime - Leif and Sadri take on Kaptain KrustyKer-titz Kghergitz while Tsleeixth summons and sends a Frost Atronach, while the Cap'n is busy fighting the dumbass daring duo, to bodyslam Captain Kamal overboard.
Stats systems work out pretty well. Or even dice rolls, to determine level of success of an action. Keep dice rolling until someone hits the number that's critical loss. Alternatively the two players can agree on which character "winning" would make for a better story.
So I made two sheets to replace Vurwe in the time since December. PROBABLY going with STABI as she's the most developed.
Stabithril the Strange
Female, Bosmer | 33 | The Serpent
Basic Information
Birthplace: Arenthia, Valenwood
Appearance: Stringy and would be considered pale for a Bosmer. Stabi has dark circles about her amber eyes, which are often wide like a vanity mirror. Her hair is jet black, long and splayed about in such a manner that she clearly hasn't heard of hair product or brushes. If she had it was probably spit applied to the hand and brushed firmly through her locks. She's thin, but most bosmer are.
She wears a roughspun tunic that she probably bought at a cheap price to keep warm. It's somewhat ragged and adorned in various vials of what you hope is some kind of healing potion. She doesn't wear shoes, instead opting for what looks like some deers skin wrapped about her feet. You don't see how this could possibly be practical, but imagine that perhaps she has some kind of blubber boots she made herself.
She carries over her shoulder some kind of rucksack, which if you get too close smells of whatever she keeps in there. She has what looks like a knife holster hanging at her waist, along with some sort of leather crossbow holster for a handheld crossbow.
Personality: Much of her personality could be attributed to Stabi living in the "Aurbic Now". Manic and as wild as the forests of Valenwood, Stabi is both singleminded and capricious in her behavior. She goes quickly from complete spiritual rapture to murky depression to frantic obsession. She's excitable and brash, often doing things because she felt that in the moment they had to be done. She's not afraid to speak her mind and has no sense of shame. Her social etiquette would make a Breton blush and an Altmer slit their own throat with a dinner knife. She doesn't often take the considerations of others into account when she does something. She's very panicky when it comes to danger, often reacting quickly. She often lets fear or anger drive her.
She is amoral, but this also makes her accepting of others. While she might take a flower from someones garden for herself, because "all they were going to use it for is making their window pretty", she also welcomes the weak, the strong, and the depraved. Her religion is a worship of 17 different divine (she does not consider Talos to be an actual God). She primarily worships Xarxes, God of Ancestors and Secret knowledge. She often makes tribute to her ancestors and sometimes while on particularly strong substances swears they communicate to her.
She's a patriotic Bosmer and generally loving of nature. She also of course realizes that death is an important part of the natural process and doesn't feel particularly bad hurrying it along for her own purposes.
Background: In her early years within the forests of Arenthia, Stabi was often used as a berry picker by her parents. This lead to, as many wonderous discoveries we all make in youth do, to consequences that we couldn't predict and her family would one day regret. She found a mushroom that, despite the natural resistance to disease and poison, made her believe that the The Hunt was hounding her.
This sparked a curiosity that quickly lead to her asking one of the many Imperial soldiers gathered about Valenwood how alchemy worked. The answer she was given was very simple (GRAB RANDOM THINGS, BOIL IN WATER, TEST RESULT) and lead to her experimenting on her own the wonders of inhibed substances that lead to either incredible magical effect (I can heal wounds!) to hallucinogenic, but arguably magical, effect (I think that wound was healed!). Because of her natural resistance to the sometimes poisons she made, she only had to go to bedrest thirty two times (some of these were explosions). This was much preferable to the one time bedrest where they piled dirt on top of you. Like many Bosmer, she also learned how to fire a bow and hunt, which was helpful because often deer wouldn't stop and let you tear their ears off and grind them into a powder you were going to drink. This had the opposite effect her parents thought it would, though when she eventually started using her creations to treat the sick they accepted it as a blessing of Valenwood.
Eventually her passion outgrew her city and she left to seek a magical college. She ended up in Winterhold and after some persistence and proving she could both turn invisible and set a mudcrab on fire using nothing but a liquid comprised of six fish eggs and a horker tusk, they agreed to let her use their library. Suprisingly, they didn't come to regret this and the library was left unexploded. But they did regret that one incident where she somehow managed to accidently create a potion that, when applied to the skin, attracted the closest nearby dragon. She'd explained that she had to use raw dragonbone and that raised even more questions. Thankfully it left after it attracted the attention of the Dragonborn and was subsequently battled off.
They decided that it wasn't entirely her fault, given they'd once unearthed a Dwemer ball that lead to a mad Altmer Magi trying to kill absolutely everyone. Regardless, they shooed her off to make her own way, as after somehow convincing a dragon you'd shouted its name using Dragonbone, a mudcrab shell, and three distinct butterflies, it was unlikely they had anything else she could learn in a spell school.
Naturally Stabi decided to begin selling her potions to The Companions. She overheard one speaking of the Thieves Guild as "filthy cowards who stalk in the night" and immediately her eyes became Septims. She found the Thieves Guild and they began a healthy relationship: they give her coin and she did not hand them a potion that made them invisible. This lead to the rampant sightings of Statues of Dibella mysteriously floating away, as if by an invisible hand. Some of her potions ended up being naturally poisonous and while she had no use for these other than to temporarily die and revive like a honey badger, often they would be sold off at higher marks to less reputable dealers and end up in the hands of assassins. This lead to the hilarious, albeit unfortunate circumstance of a Brotherhood assassins blade exploding mid stab. Stabithril wrote about this potion, "Dou nought maix worm grub waith egg of chiicken."
At one point she tried to stealthily remove a talon from a Hagraven and ended up in medical care in Whiterun for Brain Rot.
Capabilities
Expert: Alchemy - Alchemy is the art of making magic out of random objects heated correctly by strict use of equipment. You can also just throw things into some water and heat them, which is likely less stable and probably why Stabithril so much time at bedrest. Well, now she had an education and knows better! Now she can create those dangerous substances on purpose!
Adept: Acrobatics, Provisioning - Alchemical supplies have to come from somewhere and whether you have to dive into a murk and collect some barnacles or fight off a Hawk who's mad you're trying to take it's eggs, you'll need to be fairly mobile. Thankly, Stabithril is a Bosmer so is naturally inclined towards this sort of activity.
Apprentice: Sneak, Bow, One-handed blade, Spear - Raised in the forests of Valenwood, many Bosmer end up with at least some natural talent in the bow and with natural agility, often are sneaky and good with a blade.
Novice: Tamrielic - While she's familiar with tamrielic, she does not know how to write or read too well in it.
Weaknesses:
Illogical: Given a logical solution to a problem, Stabithril will quickly take it and do something so far off the rails you'll have lost the train.
Self-Destruct, Initiate: She often does highly dangerous things even when they don't need to be done.
Experimental Taster: Often drinks much of her own "supply" to see her mind and just as often loses it.
Combat Style: Like an animal, she is not afraid to bite you. Frantic stabbing, flip out. Organize an elaborate ambush, dive tackle. She often relies on being unpredictable, preferring to go for the least likely plan of attack than the most practical. She often uses potions she has on hand, either drinking them or hucking them at people she doesn't like. She's way better off preparing a plan of attack than suddenly being ambushed.
Relations and Affiliations:
Thieves: Many thieves and cutpurses, including the guild, enjoy her work with potions. Even the ones that had side effects could be used for...recreational, purposes.
The Companions: She's sold them many potions, most of which worked correctly. She was especially careful with this one, as she was pretty sure that, during a particularly strong hallucigenic, the shadow people told her they were Vampires.
Dark Brotherhood: They've since limited to dealers that don't buy Stabis wares, but are not a huge fan of the woman and would likely blame her for the death of the old bastard of an assassin, Fordicus.
Winterhold College: The faculty are just glad she's gone, though some of the students remember fondly the "crazy Bosmer who sat in the Arcaneum, shouting and cursing at old Urag, insisting she knew the meaning of it all."
Other Capabilities: Stabi is a fair game hunter and is pretty solid on which berries to eat and not to eat, based on what birds are eating. She can kill a duck with her bare hands without flinching.
Inventory
Cash: 50 septims in a coinpurse
Tools and Crafting Materials: Alchemy Kit, seventeen fish eggs, one troll eye, a cats tail, one live chicken, and a candle.
Clothing and Armor: Wears a roughspun tunic, often adorned in belts that hold many small vials of Talos knows what- she has concocted. Heat resistant gloves, because she's not touching a blazing hot metal tin or glass vial with her bare hands. Deerskin footwraps.
Weapon and Ammunition: Iron stilleto knife, small loaded crossbow, ten iron bolts.
Potion and Arcane Supplies: Potion of invisibility, potion of healing, That One Potion That Makes You See Everything So Clearly, Potion of strength, A Potion of Firebomb (Labeled with the Symbol of Molag Bal),
Jewelry, Valuables and Personal Belongings: A strip of cloth that looks like a blindfold, some rope, a weave carpet made from deer hair.
Books and Documents: A book made of deerskin, contains several of her potion recipes written in very poor Tamrielic.
Food, Drinks and Ingredients: Two moldy apples,
Load Bearing Equipment: A divided "alchemy bag" which is sort of like a rucksack but divided into liquidproof sections, so that the fish eyes don't leak into the troll eyes.
A small cage for the chicken.
Other:
Doomfist the Unslayable
Male Orc | 42 | Birthsign
Basic Information
Birthplace:
Appearance: Doomfist is built like a giant slab, his face is rough and square. He has big gold square earings that look like luck talismans. His teeth are square bricks like the moon, and his tusks look like long ago they were broken off. He is ripped and looks like he lifts trees for fun. He stands at 8 feet tall, giving him a rather imposing figure. He has a large scar on his head, probably from hitting his own forehead on a grindstone.
He wears heavy Orsimer armor, covered in various damage, most often deep gouges where a blade cut into the metal.
Personality: Doomfist is pretty dumb and self-motivated. He's easily manipulated. He firmly believes there is nothing he can't accomplish and is quick to anger. He doesn't consider others, or their well being. He can be directed towards tasks, but it often takes some convincing. He often solves problems through direct violence. He is loud as hell. He can become obsessed with a task, to the point that it's hard to stop him from thinking about it.
Background: Doomfist, actual name Murdragh was a citizen of a Stronghold in Hammerfell. His father was the head Orc of that stronghold, standing at a massive 10 feet tall and able to, through various enchantments in his gauntlets and natural strength, wield two claymores at once. Doomfist often tried to challenge his father for Stronghold control, but would always leave beaten and bloody. Their relationship was contentious and after a particularly disgraceful duel, Doomfist was banished at swordpoint.
He travelled to distant Skyrim, joining a group of bandits. They often divided spoils which he found unsatisfactory. After deciding he could just take the spoils himself, he spent a bloody night killing off the other five bandits. This was made especially difficult when, in desperation, they descended to Falmer infested depths.
He later joined a mercenary company. During their travels, they came upon a statue of Hircine. Doomfist destroyed the statue, hoping to sell it piece by piece. This unfortunately just earned the ire of Hircine, who called a Hunt on Doomfist. This lead to what Doomfist would later refer to as "The Night of the Blood Moon" where he managed to somehow survive a werewolf assault on the abandoned fort his mercenary company called home. He did this namely by not opening doors he was barricading when he heard his companions screaming for help.
Hircine still bears a grudge to this day, so often sends werewolves after Doomfist. Doomfist does not help, often disarming traps and killing hunters to spite Hircine.
Capabilities
Skills: Expert: Athletics - Doomfist is strong, if anything can be said about him, and often uses his strength to solve problems, making him even stronger. He also eats a pure meat diet.
Adept: Two-Handed axe, Hand to Hand, Heavy Armor - Doomfist is an experienced brute, often using armor and huge axe in combination with his physical strength.
Apprentice: Marksman, Spear - Doomfist likes to chuck objects during combat, especially large heavy ones so he's gotten pretty good at it. He also has become decent with the spear, primarily shoving it through live peoples stomachs.
Novice: Shield: He has no training with traditional shields, but has used a door to hide behind before.
Weaknesses: Stupid: Doomfist is DUMB and doesn't know anything about anything.
Easy to Manipulate: Doomfist, despite his over-confidence, is easy to direct towards tasks. Spells that control people are more effective on him than usual.
Imposing Figure: He often attracts the attention of others when he reveals himself, seeming to be the first thing you'd want to take out.
Combat Style: Doomfist likes to jump in and punch things, as hard as possible. He'll often do actions that are unnecessary but feels satisfying in the moment, like chucking someone off a bridge or digging into their eyes with his meatham fingers. He hits hard and often abuses his mass to harm people. He swings hard to try to break weapons.
Relations and Affiliations: Hammerfell Stronghold - His origins. His father resides there and thinks of Doomfist as weak and backstabbing.
Hircine - Wants Doomfist dead. It doesn't help that Doomfist often kills hunters just to spite him.
Opinions of Group Members:
Other Capabilities:
Inventory
Cash: 53 septims.
Keys and Lockpicks: Doomfist considers his axe to be a reliable lockpick.
Tools and Crafting Materials:
Clothing and Armor: Orcish Armor
Weapon and Ammunition: Orcish Battleaxe
Potion and Arcane Supplies:
Jewelry, Valuables and Personal Belongings: Large square bronze earings. They represent Malacath.
Books and Documents:
Food, Drinks and Ingredients: A large meat hammock, a bottle of tree-sap alcohol.
Load Bearing Equipment: A bunch of harnesses on himself that seem to have been tailor made to hold various, common kinds of loot. Especially septims.
Other:
Edit: Also, Raelyn votes to search through the bodies due to not wanting to be stabbed again.
8 Foot tall muscle Orc, part of a DnD campaign I participated in. He was known for being incredibly stupid and persistent in his goals. He once rolled up a body in a carpet and threw it at a sorcerer who was wielding a sword that never missed. The carpet/body were cut in half. This confused him for a few seconds, opening up an attack. He was often used for heavy labor like swimming up a gushing water pipe with a man, a gnome, and a halfling on his back. This was possible because I kept somehow rolling D20s.
Olsen and Walls are two ghoul scientists from Fallout who were trapped in a bunker. They used robots they had accessed wirelessly to lure a squad of NCR soldiers into the bunker to help them break out of bunker lockdown. They're known for performing experiments on a spetznaz trained panther (feeding it nothing but mentats) which caused it to gain increased intelligence) and creating the massive robot S.A.T.A.N.O.S L.U.C.I.F.A.R.U.S B.E.E.Z.E.L.B.U.B (Supreme Artificial Tactical Armored Nuclear Overlord Systems - Biological Exterminator & Execution & Zymugy Enhancer of Liberty of the Battle Ready United Bombardiers - Liquidator of Unacceptable Communists Instigating the Fight of Anchorage Ravager of the United States). This thing had about 12 grenade launchers, 6 missile launchers, seventeen machine guns, four gatling guns, a massive railgun, and aiming software that was garbage. It would destroy "all lights for visual stealth" but because of shoddy programming by Olsen and Walls, it saw through thermal vision so destroying all light sources simply meant it destroyed the entire area it was in. This was good for the NCR soldiers, as it mostly missed them and hit everything else.
A time traveling Chronomancer from the roguelike Tales of Maj'eyal. She's very dramatic and often likes to bring people on 'quests'. She was in a crossover rp where she had sent herself back in time because of THE INCIDENT and had wiped her memories because of how bad it was. All she knew is she sent herself back in time to stop it. This was probably the only rp where I got permission to create a time traveling character.
AND THE STORY
Doomfist the Unslayable, an eight foot tall muscle laden orc was chewing on a meat hammock with relish. He occassionally threw a cart wheel on the fire and when he truly ran out of other peoples belongings to burn, he began to heave a hog tied and struggling fat man to the fire. He exclaimed, "Wait, you don't need to do this! That silver chest over there, the key is in that lockbox you threw into the fire! There's a small idol of Akatosh you can burn!" Doomfist set him down, "WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO?" he shouted almost an inch from the mans face. Thank Talos, the man thought, his wit providing him another 5 minutes of life. Doomfist reached into the fire with his bare hands, much to the mans horror, and retrieved the key.
Doomfist stuck the key into the lock. He was just about to turn the key, when he felt more than heard a stomach churning BOOM. He turned, looking in the direction he thought he had not heard the noise. He handed the box to the fat man, "OPEN THIS WHILE I'M GONE. I THINK I NEED TO HIT SOMETHING UNTIL IT STOPS."
He walked through the forest, battle axe in hand. What he saw didn't surprise him, it was clearly two sentient zombies stumbling out of a pure metal box that said, "PRESERVATION SHELTER". They were both wearing strange white coats with blue dirty pants. One of them, the thicker set of the two, pointed at Doomfist. "Olsen, look, see, an Orc! I told you we travelled too far into the past, now we're in the Fantasy Ages!"
Across from him, Olsen much more calmly said, "No, Walls. The Fantasy Ages aren't real, we proved that in our college thesis, remember? This is clearly an alternate dimension. Possibly literally Lord of the Rings."
Doomfist said, "OK, YOU TWO BETTER TELL ME WHICH OF YOU ZOMBIES TO KILL FIRST BEFORE I START SWINGING."
Walls laughed, "We're not zombies buddo, we're ghouls!"
Doomfist paused, reaching into his pouch. He put on a small pair of spectacles and began reading through a tome labelled MONSTER SLAYERS MANUAL. He threw the book to the floor, grabbing his axe, "THAT'S EVEN WORSE! OK WE'RE DOING THIS THE OLD FASHIONED WAY. I TURN AROUND AND IF YOU AREN'T DEAD BY THE TIME I TURN BACK TO FACE YOU, I'LL KILL YOU." He turned around.
When he turned around again, Olsen and Walls had already fled. He shouted, "HEY COME BACK, I KNOW WHERE YOU DON'T LIVE. THAT MEANS ALL I HAVE TO DO IS EXPLORE EVERY PLACE YOU AREN'T AND I'LL FIND YOU EVENTUALLY." He started trekking through the forest. He eventually gave up when he heard the call of what he was sure was an Owlbear and headed back towards the campfire. When he returned, he saw a dirty woman in troupe uniform trying to free the fat man from his knot. He didn't think she was a zombie, or a ghoul, but thought that she might possibly be a vampire. Well, he knew how to kill those. Hit them really hard with an axe until they stopped moving, then eat the body to be sure. Just like everything else.
He raised the axe, then the woman said, "Waaaaaaait a minute big guy!" she smiled. He stopped his axe mid swing, though with his muscle mass he could probably swing it at half rotation and still split her in two.
"YES?" he said. "I'm Raelyn and this isn't what it looks like!" "IT LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE A DREAMFORM I HAVE TO KILL SO I CAN KILL THAT OTHER DREAMFORM I WAS GOING TO KILL." "What is a dreamform, if I may ask?" "A BODY FORMED FROM DREAM MATTER. DON'T YOU KNOW THIS IS A DREAMWORLD, FORMED FROM MICHAEL KIRKBRIDES GODHEAD?" "That sounds a tad daft to be honest." "YOU'RE DAFT. WAIT, WHY AM I ARGUING WITH A DREAMFORM."
The axe an inch from her head when Olsen and Walls burst from a nearby bush, "Wait!" they said at the same time. "That's entirely unnecessary!" said Olsen.
Walls chimed in, "That's right, you can kill us instead!" Olsen said rather quickly, "No no no, let's not do that. How about we all sit down and talk this over a nice box of dandy apples."
"So" Raelyn began, warming herself in front of the fire. "You're from Faerun? What's that like?" "I GOT STABBED BY TEN SENTIENT DOLLS AT ONCE. THEN I RIPPED A MANS TONGUE OUT SO HE WOULDN'T SCREAM." Doomfist swallowed a dandy apple whole. "That doesn't sound like it would work."
Olsen chimed in, "The blood loss would be substantial. We once considered building a robot that did nothing but remove peoples tongues, but the logistics of that were astounding."
Walls said, "Right? First, finding someone with the stamina to have their tongue removed more than once. Nevermind all those silly laws saying we can't just rip a criminals tongue out without permission."
Raelyn gave Walls a look that said, I'm not quite sure how I got into this situation but I am regretting every second of it. "So, you two build robots? Are those like Dwemer constructions?"
Olsen said, "Maybe. Are Dwemer constructions metal and programmed to fire with prejudice at unpatriotic communists?"
Raelyn narrowed her eyes, "Communists?"
"The worst thing ever. Think of like, what was that thing called again Doomfist?"
"ELVES."
"Right, that."
Raelyn nodded in understanding, "Right! Communists! So you only hurt terrible people then?" Though she wasn't sure she trusted what appeared to be two time travelling liches.
Walls exclaimed, "Of course! If communists weren't evil, why would they be called communists? That's the word for evil in the bible, last time I checked."
Raelyn felt like this was grossly inaccurate, but said nothing. She tried to regain her footing with Doomfist, "So, while I have you here, know any good songs?"
"NO, BUT CAN YOU WRITE ONE ABOUT ME?"
"No."
Minutes later, Raelyns left arm was broken and she was holding a sheet of lyrics Doomfist wrote himself. She said, through tears, "Alright, here we go." She breathed in deeply and sang, "Doomfist is great, Doomfist is mighty. Doomfist once killed two dragons with his fists." She looked up at him, "This doesn't even rhyme!"
"THAT'S A NICE OTHER ARM YOU HAVE THERE."
She shuddered, quickly going back to reading. "He is great with women and never, ever sleeps with them without permission. Why would he do that? He's so handsome they're just falling on top of him all the time. Not Doomfist, for he is the best."
"AMAZING."
"One time, he totally slew a woman in her dreamform. Like, he did it. That's just the kind of great warrior he is, Doomfist. Really the best."
"PERFECT." He looked at Olsen and Walls, who were the forced audience. Both of them had a swollen eye. "WHAT DO YOU THINK?"
Olsen said, flatly, "That is the best song I have ever heard."
Walls shouted, "That was the best song! I have never heard better and I listened to all of Frank Sinatras Greatest Hits."
Seemingly for no reason, the air rippled and what could be described as an aperture into a starry void opened nearby. Doomfist grabbed Raelyn, holding her in front of himself. A woman stepped out of the portal in a simple hooded robe, her skin pale and thin, holding a staff.
Doomfist shouted, "DON'T MOVE. I'LL BREAK RAELYNS OTHER ARM, THEN WHAT WILL THERE BE LEFT TO BREAK?"
Raelyn sputtered, "Maybe her arm? She has a breakable arm, look at it! It's like a twig!"
The mysterious woman said, "There are an infinite sea of possibilities, so you can break her arm in infinite timelines!"
Doomfists face had the expression of a child who just realized silly putty exists, "REALLY? I COULD BREAK THIS WOMANS ARM IN EVERY UNIVERSE? WHAT IS YOUR NAME, STAR WOMAN."
"I am Dowr, the Chronomancer!"
Walls butted in, "Are you from the Fantasy Ages?"
Dowr said, "Yes! That is the age from which I have travelled from. I have come here to gather a party of heroes-"
"TO BREAK RAELYNS ARM IN EVERY TIMELINE?"
"No, but I'm not going to stop you from achieving your dreams."
Olsen asked, "Even our dreams of making a weapon that can kill God?"
"Well, you've already achieved that in timeline seven."
Olsens face turned red, "I did? I'm going to kill me! Where am I?"
Doomfist stepped towards the portal, apparently having forgotten Raelyn, "YEAH, I NEED TO KILL MYSELF TOO! I GAMBLED ALL MY GOLD AWAY, FUCK ME!"
Dowr said, "Well, I mean, that's not really the purpose-" then Doomfist snapped her neck in one smooth motion. Her body crumpled to the floor.
Raelyn said, "Oh come on, she was magic she could have fixed my arm!"
Olsen stepped forward, "Where we're going, we don't need arms."
---
Michael Kirkbride awoke in a cold sweat. What had he just dreamed? He lifted his head from his desk, completely naked and drinking a bottle of vodka. His computer had a document open, "VIVEC SERMONS." He must have gotten drunk and written up something, he usually forgot why. He took another swig of vodka. Then there was a pounding at the door. He slipped on a pair of jeans and went to answer the door. When he opened it, Doomfist, Raelyn, Olsen and Walls were standing outside his door. He screamed.
