Recent Statuses

9 hrs ago
Current Special news bulletin from the #1 diaperboy in America:
5 days ago
a single drop of spidercum can cure cancer, but can also destroy an entire city. A single drop of spidercum could save humanity or destroy it. No one man deserves all that power, but this diaperboy do
10 days ago
Knowledge may be its own reward, but figuring out how to use tarantula stem cells to clone cow-sized spider gonads to harvest industrial quantities of spidercum was the icing on the spidercum cake.
2 mos ago
I made my house a bird rehabilitation center on Google maps so I can eat all the baby birds the people find on the ground


lol who gives a shit

Most Recent Posts

"Prince Edward, while your men are decidedly brave and loyal, they are very much outnumbered. Had we wished harm upon you and your followers, we would have already carried it out."

"To be fair, they have already inflicted some harm," black-eyed Bartolomue chimed in.

"You were subdued," the Firelander leader corrected. "If we wished you actual harm, you'd have been slain before you were even aware of our presence."

"In any case, Prince Edward, I can assure you that you and your followers shall be treated amicably. No harm shall come to any of them."
"I am a servant of the Prophet Ongu, the Left-Handed Lord, the Son of the Moon God. He is the immortal master of Amhezan; what your people call the Fire Lands. Before your birth, Prince Edward, our Prophet visited the Lands Under Shadow and learned the wisdom of your father. In time, he came to call Zachaeus a friend. A fortnight past, a vision came to our Prophet. He knew that Zachaeus' son had found his way into his wards, and sent me here to find him."

"I know it must seem unbelievable to the ears of an outlander," the Firelander said, noting Edward's incredulous scowl. "But to our people the Prophet's wisdom simply is. You will soon find that the Prophet's wisdom is no more incredible than the fact that the sun sets and falls each day without fail. His foresight and truth are immutable laws of nature. His wisdom is infallible; his will irresistible."

"And what, then, wills your master?" Asked Bartolomue. The eyes of Edward, his guards, and the Firelanders went to the Guard Commander as his Firelander captors brought him before their leader. His eye was blackened from where one of his captors had struck him, visibly unnerving the other guards although Edward remained resolute.

"The Prophet seeks an audience with Prince Edward."

The leader of the Firelanders gave a sharp whistle and the sound of pine needles crunching softly underfoot could be heard as some large beast was galvanized into action from the darkness of the forest. Edward's guards aimed their crossbows at whatever approached. Ambling into the torchlight of the clearing in front of the trapper's cabin came a four-strong team of shaggy, two-humped camels - exotic beasts that elicted dumbfounded awe in Edward's guards. Leather tack and saddles strapped upon their shoulders held up a giant wooden palanquin. The Firelander leader grunted something in his native tongue to the camels, bringing the camel team to a halt directly in front of Prince Edward. With gurgling groans of annoyance, the camels awkwardly stooped down onto their knees, lowering the palanquin to a comfortable height at which it could be entered. The leader of the Firelanders approached the palanquin and opened a door for Edward to enter.

The interior of the palanquin was spacious indeed, and could comfortably seat four. Giant seating cushions were neatly arranged inside, and windows were affixed with several layers of breathable silk curtains that would serve to block the sun's rays - clearly fashioned with vampire occupants in mind.

"Your wife and son shall ride with you," the Firelander said, beckoning Edward inside the palanquin with a flourish of the hand. "Your men shall walk with us. We will make the journey to the Prophet's court as comfortable as possible, but do recall that his will is irresistible. Refusing to heed the Prophet's summons is not an option."

Pine boughs above roared softly in the evening breeze as Edward withdrew into his cabin in the evening. The warm glow of the hearth shone out through the doorway into the darkened forest as the vampire prince quietly opened and then locked the door so as not to disturb his sleeping followers within, casting orange firelight upon Bartolomue for a moment before leaving him in the dark once more.

He almost always took the night watch, as it allowed him to share most of his waking hours with his nocturnal liege. As the Commander of the Guard of Castle Bathory, it also seemed fitting to him that he should accept the more strenuous duties and lead by example. It was important to maintain a sense of duty and discipline, Bartolomue felt, even after all that had happened. Never mind that Castle Bathory and all but a handful of its guardians had been destroyed in Ulrek's War. As long as Edward and his son drew breath, the House of Zachaeus Bathory still remained and Bartolomue would serve them until his dying breath. That final breath was now much nearer than when he had started, for almost thirty years had passed since he made that pledge to the previous Guard Commander on the eve of Castle Bathory's destruction.

He was scarcely a man when he accepted the role of Guard Commander and was tasked with escorting Edward and Emily out of the doomed castle to safety. Twenty-seven years later, he had given nearly all of his life to Prince Edward. They had spent the past three decades moving from country to country like thieves on the lam. In the first few years after Ulrek's War, Edward and his loyal retinue had been welcomed into the courts of kings and lords, their hospitality belying selfish hopes of using the last Bathory heir as a puppet vassal to rule the Lands Under Shadow in their stead. But as time went on, and the Disciples of Solomon went farther afield to achieve Solomon Kane's quest to rid the world of vampires, the remnant of House Bathory was welcome in increasingly fewer lands. Now, Edward and his retinue lived in true exile in remote lands on the edge of the world: an abandoned trapper's cabin in the Red Forest near the edge of the Fire Lands.

The guard commander sat against the shaggy trunk of a red pine, staring out into the starlit forest, he wondered as he often did whether he had wasted his life in service to Edward. Edward was no closer to earning his father's throne than he was when he accepted the mantle of Guard Commander. In truth, Edward was in a much worse position than when Ulrek and Solomon Kane ousted him from the Lands Under Shadow. Five years after leaving the Lands Under Shadow, Edward and his retinue were the pampered guests of a wealthy merchant living in the safety of a walled compound in the great city of Aepiranth; twenty-seven years on, they lived like peasants in a sod-roof cabin of half-rotten timbers situated in a brutish, untamed land hundreds of leagues from home. What would another ten years bring?

It's not about my life, Bartolumue reminded himself, it's about those of the ones I left behind.

Bartolumue recounted the rumors that made their way from the Lands Under Shadow: the once-unified kingdom had become a barbaric and violent hell in the absence of the vampire lords. Petty kings - increasingly under the sway of the zealous Disciples of Solomon - waged constant war across the land. Reavers from the Broken Lands plied the coasts and rivers, taking boys as thralls and maidens as wives. Peasants were enslaved by dwarves to mine mithril in their ancestral mines. Violence and terror ruled the Lands Under Shadow in the absence of the vampires. If there was any chance to return Edward and restore order to their homeland, Bartolomue was resolved to take that chance. For in truth, it was his people languishing under the duress of war and famine and terror that he had pledged his eternal support to, not some exiled vampire prince.

He sat quietly in the dark for some time, allowing his eyesight to readjust to the dim starlight of the forest before resuming his patrol around the camp. Wielding the crossbow issued to him as a castle guard some thirty years ago and a short scimitar favored by the local people of the Fire Lands, Bartolomue set out into the forest. His studded leather cuirass creaked softly as each inhalation pressed his paunch against the undersized armor. The grizzle-bearded guard may not have been in peak fighting condition any longer, though Bartolomue was still a seasoned fighter to be sure. Many an assassin and vampire hunter attempting to take Edward or Emily's life had met an end at Bartolomue's hand, and he still had plenty of fight left in him.

A ghostly call sounded through night as the guard captain patrolled the forest: a deep, resonant howl in the distance that transitioned into a high-pitched squeal. A terrifying sound if one didn't know the source, but Bartolomue recognized it at once as the bugle of a stag elk - a strange but harmless denizen of these exotic woods. Theirs was a crepuscular call, notifying Bartolomue that dawn would be coming soon. Through the pine boughs up above, the night sky slowly began to transition from black to dark blue: confirmation that the night was nearly through.

Perhaps it was knowledge that his watch was nearly over that lowered his guard, but it was much too late when the guard captain heard a sound that - unlike the calling of the elk - was much more sinister.

Footfalls on the pine-needles behind him.

Bartolomue spun on his heels immediately, leveling his crossbow, and found himself face-to-face with the round, swarthy faces of two Firelander men. Clad in lamellar armor, their bows were already drawn with vicious iron arrowheads aimed directly at his chest. Several moments of tense silence passed as Bartolomue and the Firelanders held their weapons pointed at one another.

"Lower your weapon," whispered one of the Firelanders in an almost unintelligible accent. The fact that they even knew his language at all was impressive enough.

Bartolomue held his crossbow toward the Firelanders, but glanced back at the cabin behind him. The guard captain knew he wouldn't survive this encounter, not against both of them. But he could at least alert Edward and his other fighting men before he was slain.

"INTRUDERS!" Bartolomue screamed before being struck across the face and having his crossbow and sword physically removed from his posession.

Shouts of alarm rang out from the cabin at once. Prince Edward accompanied by five crossbow-armed men stormed out the door into the forest at once. In the torchlight of Edward's men-at-arms, they saw some twenty to thirty men clad in lamellar armor surrounding the cabin, bows drawn but aimed just beneath Edward and his men, perhaps as a show of some small measure of good will.

Edward's guards shared no such goodwill to the intruders, pointing their crossbows directly at the cohort of exotic warriors surrounding them despite being hopelessly outnumbered.

"Who goes there?!" Edward's guards barked "Identify yourselves!"

Two of the lamellar-clad warriors stepped aside, allowing the presumed leader of the Firelander warriors to step forward toward Edward. Unarmed, but clad in a tunic studded with lamellar plates, his face was round and chubby - even more so than was typical for the nomads of the Fire Lands with their fatty diets. Perhaps a noble among their people? Did the Fire Lands even have nobles to speak of? Edward's men had presumed the people of this country to be simple barbarians with no sense of social order. But the armor and weaponry clearly demonstrated a level of craftsmanship that was not possible among true barbarians. Whatever this man was, he approached Edward and gave a brief bow of the head in respect.

"Please, lower your weapons," the leader of the Firelanders requested in the tongue of the Lands Under Shadow. "We are friends of Prince Edward Bathory."

Not dead or ghosting. I've got my opening post outlined but this phrasing—

<Snipped quote by gorgenmast>

—makes me think I should hold off and wait to be sure that it won't ruin whatever this guy's putting together.

Oh jeez, I just saw this. Please go ahead and post. I am not flaking either, just haven't had time
or even throw me a nasty surprise IC

dis be how i do
I really enjoyed the Gharekh story, pug! Extremely well-written.

I have been considering my next post, and now I want to try to draw Gharekh into the coming plot arc somehow if I can. I'll post shortly but don't feel obligated to wait for me.
I'm a few paragraphs deep into the backstory segment of the app. The rest is ready to go. So all in all I'm about halfway done and I can have it finished on a day when I don't come home exhausted from work.

Yer a good man, laddeh
i'm at the Knowhere bar in Raccoon Heights with a buddy atm. kinda lame tbh, gonna try to get out of here soon. wby?

Lee gave the text a quick re-read before sending it off. The warm blue light of the iPhone screen illuminated his face as he waited a few moments to see if he would get an immediate response. He soon gave up waiting and slid the phone back into the pocket of his black slacks before killing off his Heineken, the empty bottle clinked as Lee set it onto the booth table with drunken gracelessness. He scanned across the dimly-lit bar and surveyed the other bargoers, most of whom were clustered around the bar itself. The majority of the patrons were dudes of the hipster persuasion - proudly sporting thick-rimmed glasses and bushy, unkempt beards as they sipped from mugs of bitter IPAs. The ratio of girls to guys was pretty lousy, maybe one girl for every five or six guys, and most of those girls were too fat for Lee's liking.

This place is a sausage-fest, Lee thought to himself as he fished his phone back out of his pocket. No wonder Chad likes this place so much.

Lee saw Chad in the middle of a knot of bargoers, carrying on what appeared to be a lively conversation with two hipsters seated at the bar. He had always been envious of Chad's wit and charisma; how he was instantly liked even by complete strangers. And though Lee was perfectly straight, he couldn't deny that Chad was an extremely handsome guy. His hair was combed over into the douchebag pompadour universally loved by dudebros the world over, but with his manicured goatee dressing his pointed jawline, Chad was somehow able to pull it off. His intentionally-tight polo and khakis showcased the physique of an underwear model. Chad caught Lee scrolling through his phone out of the corner of his eye and dismissed himself from his new friends before making his way over to Lee's booth at the rear of the bar.

"Well if it isn't Mister Wallflower, playing on his phone in the corner like the fuckin' dunce he is," Chad quipped, planting a fresh pair of Heinekens on the table. "You swiping right now?"

"Yeah," Lee sighed. "The prospects here aren't that great."

"Bull-shit, my dude," Chad said, sliding the Heineken over to Lee. "I count one-two-three-four... five eligible bachelorettes."

"Buncha fatties," Lee dismissed as he tapped the pink tile of the Tinder app on his phone.

"Like... two of them are actually fat," Chad corrected. "That one over there though, even I might consider taking her home."

"Not when you have the pick of the litter of gay hipsters to choose from," Lee dismissed as the Tinder app presented him with the profiles of young women. He gave a few left swipes as Chad slid down in the booth seat beside him and watched as Lee swiped through the girls that cropped up on his screen.

The first girl that Chad witnessed was a blonde college-aged girl whose profile picture was a mirror selfie of her seated atop a bathroom vanity with a skimpy bikini.

"Paige, 24," Chad read aloud. "Add me on Instagram at-" Lee swiping left on the girl interrupted Chad mid-sentence.

"She was fuckin' foxxy, dude. Why didn't you swipe right?"

"If they only say their Instagram account, then they're just attention whores and don't actually want to meet up."

"Felicity, 26..." Chad read as Lee moved on to the next Tinder profile: a sweater-clad woman with curly hair hugging a toddler in a field of bright orange pumpkins. "Assistant Human Resources Coordinator at Umbrella Corporation. Love the beach, hiking, and nature. Let's go to the zoo. Looking for the Jim to my Pam. She seems nice, dude." Lee didn't agree and once again swiped left.

"Single mom," Lee explained. "And I fucking hate the Office."

Lee swiped left on another two girls before finally swiping right.

"Whoa," Chad interjected. "You swiped right on her? And yet you won't talk to any of the ladies at the bar? Not gonna lie, my dude, sometimes I wonder if you are actually straight."

Lee groaned as Chad began once again with the 'Are you really straight?' routine. He was convinced that Chad only hung out with him for the off-chance of one day getting in his pants, and to Lee's irritation, would always find ways to question his sexuality. It was almost enough for Lee to not even bother spending time with Chad, but even after moving to Raccoon City for work after college almost a year ago, his upstairs neighbor was still the only friend he had in this town.

Lee mentally braced himself for the coming barrage of questions regarding his sexual preferences, but a change in the music seemed to have thankfully distracted Chad.

"Oh shit, is that... Yes! This is my fucking jam, dude!"

The bubbly beat of Heart of Glass by Blondie playing loudly through the bar elicited shouts of enthusiasm from many of the other bargoers.


"Why do bars always do this? Why do they have to have the music so loud you can't even think straight?"

"It forces you to talk right in somebody's ear if you want to say something to them!" Chad practically shouted in Lee's ear. "Makes you get nice and close, just like this!" Chad proceeded to lick Lee's ear. He instantly squirmed away in revulsion, prompting uproarious laughter from Chad.

"Fucking horndog!" Lee snarled.

"You love it, you just haven't accepted it... yet."

"I gotta take a leak," Lee groaned. Chad got up out of his seat and let Lee out to use the bathroom, but not without giving him a playful slap on the ass as he went by.

"I'll try to get you a girlfriend on Tinder in the meantime. Even though, deep down, you'd rather have a boyfriend."

Lee rolled his eyes as he went to the very back of the bar to the men's bathroom. The music, though still clearly audible, was thankfully quieter in here. Lee unzipped his black slacks and the white button up he had worn to the office that day and relieved himself in the urinal. He absent-mindedly looked at the peeling band stickers stuck to the urinal dividers when he noticed the music abruptly cut out, followed by the groans of the bargoers.

Thank god, Lee whispered to himself.

A few seconds of silence were followed by the heart-stopping buzzing of an emergency alert system broadcast. Lee paid little attention to the alert, assuming it to be an Amber Alert broadcast over the phone of the bartender that was using their Spotify to play music for the bar. He reached into his pocket to get his own phone see what the alert was for, and then remembered that he left his phone on the table with Chad. Lee zipped back up and tucked his shirt back into his pants before going to wash his hands. As he lathered his hands with soap, he was surprised to faintly hear the alert system's computerized voice was still talking, though he couldn't make out what it was saying. Odd, Lee thought. Usually these Amber Alert messages were fairly brief, but this one had gone on for at least a full minute now.

As he reached to shut off the water - the lights suddenly went out - eliciting a few shouts from the bar. Lee was plunged in pitch blackness and so he felt around for his way out. Being fairly drunk and in an unfamiliar bathroom, Lee stumbled over the trashcan for the paper towels and fell face-first onto the concrete floor, knocking him out cold at once.
Name: Lee Kenefick
Age: 22
Used to work (or study) as: Consulting Analyst
Weapon (no guns!): A Leatherman multitool he was gifted a few Christmases back
Equipment: iPhone X, wallet, apartment keys, Leatherman
Raccoon City ist verloren
Can I get a name change also? I would like it to be "TerrySchiavoTwerkTeam".
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet