Banned
The black-haired man rolled up behind the small woman in the tattered bright orange jumpsuit. "Oh hey, you're the child with concealed weapons. What in the hell are you wearing? Anyway, how are you unscathed? My arm got torn off but it's fine now." He waves his elbow around while leaning forward.
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- Grade 4 yrs ago
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It's been fun.
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4 yrs ago
If a tree falls in a forest and there’s no one around to hear it, is it the next Nickelback concert venue?
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4 yrs ago
A pig just won the lottery. You could say he's filthy rich
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4 yrs ago
Rest in power, Technoblade. 🐷👑
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4 yrs ago
"I'll have two number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45s, one with cheese, and a large soda." - Melvin "Big Smoke" Harris, 1992
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Most Recent Posts
@spiral origin@Pakde
Slow-moving as he was, the black-haired man on a wheelchair, while turned around, could 'see' this event befall, this... horned redhead scolding a distraught, possibly freshly widowed woman, for forgetting the well-being of her daughter.
The thing is, this horned redhead's in the right. Few things strike anger within him in this world, one of them being the mistreatment of children. Suddenly, the widow's hand was knocked off of her child's with an invisible force, and she was subsequently knocked off her feet, made to fall on her bottom. At the same time, the child was enveloped with a force quite wind-like, keeping her from collapsing yet gently guiding her down to sit on the subsequently rapidly cooling sand.
Beyond this, he felt no more obligation. He shrugged and resumed rolling towards where Ember and Viviana were, intent to preserve his limited energy.
Slow-moving as he was, the black-haired man on a wheelchair, while turned around, could 'see' this event befall, this... horned redhead scolding a distraught, possibly freshly widowed woman, for forgetting the well-being of her daughter.
The thing is, this horned redhead's in the right. Few things strike anger within him in this world, one of them being the mistreatment of children. Suddenly, the widow's hand was knocked off of her child's with an invisible force, and she was subsequently knocked off her feet, made to fall on her bottom. At the same time, the child was enveloped with a force quite wind-like, keeping her from collapsing yet gently guiding her down to sit on the subsequently rapidly cooling sand.
Beyond this, he felt no more obligation. He shrugged and resumed rolling towards where Ember and Viviana were, intent to preserve his limited energy.
The black-haired man with a greenish walking stick, chuckled as he picked the seaweed off his head. Yeah, he deserved that.
More to the point, he slowly walked out towards the sea again. Something he just noticed a while ago, the remote link to his actual human body has been severed. Granted, he's very much mentally tuned it out (much like what Ember's doing to him) as he's only ever received a constant stream of heartbeat sounds, joint pain, and bed sores. The Greenes have his actual body on lock so it should be safe anyway.
He spotted a familiar handle and pulled it out of the sand and sat on the emergent chair. Back to the point, he could only imagine a few reasons why this remote link has been severed. His real body could be dead, but the timing of that just seemed statistically unlikely, as that would also require the death or betrayal of the Greenes. There's also no distance on the planet that this link would be severed, as he'd roamed around it for a century.
A different planet? But Ember is right, this whole beach scenery does not look otherwordly in the slightest. Although, there doesn't seem to be any landmass across the sea no matter which direction he looked, which doesn't seem right. It was a mere short 5-day trip, there's no way they would get beached this far away.
An anti-magic barrier may be surrounding this whole island, and it'd sever his remote link for sure, but irregardless of this existing or not, maybe a grimmer truth has befallen them. This place could be an alternate dimension.
Wait. He glanced at this thing he sat on. Checked on the side. Wheels confirmed. Oh. This is his wheelchair. He could sense no damage from it either. He would smile if he could. It really is paying off that he stole those iron ingots. After a magic shiver to get rid of all the sand, he began to drive back towards Ember and the rest, but in his haste and in giving the wheels too much torque, it only stuck him in place as the wheels shoveled the sand away. He shook his head, how dumb of him. After pulling his chair out of this sand crevasse, he drove off towards Ember's group again but slowly.
More to the point, he slowly walked out towards the sea again. Something he just noticed a while ago, the remote link to his actual human body has been severed. Granted, he's very much mentally tuned it out (much like what Ember's doing to him) as he's only ever received a constant stream of heartbeat sounds, joint pain, and bed sores. The Greenes have his actual body on lock so it should be safe anyway.
He spotted a familiar handle and pulled it out of the sand and sat on the emergent chair. Back to the point, he could only imagine a few reasons why this remote link has been severed. His real body could be dead, but the timing of that just seemed statistically unlikely, as that would also require the death or betrayal of the Greenes. There's also no distance on the planet that this link would be severed, as he'd roamed around it for a century.
A different planet? But Ember is right, this whole beach scenery does not look otherwordly in the slightest. Although, there doesn't seem to be any landmass across the sea no matter which direction he looked, which doesn't seem right. It was a mere short 5-day trip, there's no way they would get beached this far away.
An anti-magic barrier may be surrounding this whole island, and it'd sever his remote link for sure, but irregardless of this existing or not, maybe a grimmer truth has befallen them. This place could be an alternate dimension.
Wait. He glanced at this thing he sat on. Checked on the side. Wheels confirmed. Oh. This is his wheelchair. He could sense no damage from it either. He would smile if he could. It really is paying off that he stole those iron ingots. After a magic shiver to get rid of all the sand, he began to drive back towards Ember and the rest, but in his haste and in giving the wheels too much torque, it only stuck him in place as the wheels shoveled the sand away. He shook his head, how dumb of him. After pulling his chair out of this sand crevasse, he drove off towards Ember's group again but slowly.
This black-haired man who's not on a wheelchair and is instead using a raw greenish cane of wood, slowly paced around the beach looking for his wheelchair. It's futile to use his eyesight on this, it seems every meter there's a piece of wood sticking out of the sand. It's almost prescient that he reinforced his wheelchair with several bars of iron, so he could detect it with this... strange, innate metal sense that he has, instead.
Nothing's come up with this however, and it's come to a point where he reaches Ember's immediate location, with this strange seaweed-covered chest crawling behind her. Ember herself, with this disheveled, sodden, seaweed-covered look. He pointed with his left hand, "You have a leaf on your shoulder."
He looks at the sky, in a combination of perhaps trying to find a celestial body, like a moon, and mainly trying not to even chuckle at Ember's situation. "Hey... How possible do you think it is that we're in a different planet?"
Nothing's come up with this however, and it's come to a point where he reaches Ember's immediate location, with this strange seaweed-covered chest crawling behind her. Ember herself, with this disheveled, sodden, seaweed-covered look. He pointed with his left hand, "You have a leaf on your shoulder."
He looks at the sky, in a combination of perhaps trying to find a celestial body, like a moon, and mainly trying not to even chuckle at Ember's situation. "Hey... How possible do you think it is that we're in a different planet?"
The protection spell placed on the black-haired man rapidly decayed, and the low static sound he emanated had suddenly ceased.
...
Movement.
His head straightened up, and his right stump moved to his chest as he shook his left shoulder, and then his left hand held the back of his neck as he twisted it around. "Hello, consciousness," he told himself.
He looked to his left. The redhead with horns, followed by some kind of blue-robed cultist that he'd never seen before on the ship. Suspicious individuals. He paid no heed to them and looked forward. Large chunks of the ship, out on the shore. Wait, their ship? He has to find his chair. He tried to get up, but immediately started tilting to the right due to lacking a sense of balance, and so he instinctively held out his right arm to catch his fall, but it wasn't there and so his head slammed the floor.
What in the hell is going on... It's not something that'd so easily detach from his body. Actually, where is his pet snake wearing a skull of another snake? Did someone steal it from him along with his arm? Is it these two? No, they're not holding a snake of some sort. They're looking at him. "I'm fine," he proclaimed.
He sat up and reached back at the tree behind him. Cracks formed into the tree, and a slice of it came off to reveal a wooden walking cane, greenish and wet with sap but it'll do. He slowly, centenarily started walking out of the trees' shade and back onto the sands. At one point, his cane slides deep into the sand due to his sheer weight, prompting him to change the base of his cane into something flatter. Oh, there's his arm. He leaned down and dropped his right arm onto it, sliding his sleeve onto it, and a click sound latches it back to him. He tests by moving his right fingers, for measure.
The crunching sound of sand as he moves his joints. It was beginning to be grating. The bits of moisture inside his body, too. Steam rises from the back of his neck as his body shivers, shooting sand out at a small radius around him. He resumes his walk to find his wheelchair.
...
Movement.
His head straightened up, and his right stump moved to his chest as he shook his left shoulder, and then his left hand held the back of his neck as he twisted it around. "Hello, consciousness," he told himself.
He looked to his left. The redhead with horns, followed by some kind of blue-robed cultist that he'd never seen before on the ship. Suspicious individuals. He paid no heed to them and looked forward. Large chunks of the ship, out on the shore. Wait, their ship? He has to find his chair. He tried to get up, but immediately started tilting to the right due to lacking a sense of balance, and so he instinctively held out his right arm to catch his fall, but it wasn't there and so his head slammed the floor.
What in the hell is going on... It's not something that'd so easily detach from his body. Actually, where is his pet snake wearing a skull of another snake? Did someone steal it from him along with his arm? Is it these two? No, they're not holding a snake of some sort. They're looking at him. "I'm fine," he proclaimed.
He sat up and reached back at the tree behind him. Cracks formed into the tree, and a slice of it came off to reveal a wooden walking cane, greenish and wet with sap but it'll do. He slowly, centenarily started walking out of the trees' shade and back onto the sands. At one point, his cane slides deep into the sand due to his sheer weight, prompting him to change the base of his cane into something flatter. Oh, there's his arm. He leaned down and dropped his right arm onto it, sliding his sleeve onto it, and a click sound latches it back to him. He tests by moving his right fingers, for measure.
The crunching sound of sand as he moves his joints. It was beginning to be grating. The bits of moisture inside his body, too. Steam rises from the back of his neck as his body shivers, shooting sand out at a small radius around him. He resumes his walk to find his wheelchair.
The black-haired man who's currently not on a wheelchair and instead half-submerged in sand, spoke not of words but a low static noise.
When the snake draped in another snake's skeleton darted away from his arms with such force, it flung his arms up and one of them fully broke off from the elbow and flew three feet away. The humming suddenly intensified, along with more static noise, and this feeling that all the energy in the air and the ground and the nearest benevolent necromancer was being drained into him.
As this went on, his head slowly turned to align his eyes with the visage of this blind, blue-robed figure. There was no expression on his face.
If one were to look closely at his severed arm, there's no blood. It's just some kind of prosthetic made of terracotta flesh and iron bones.
When the snake draped in another snake's skeleton darted away from his arms with such force, it flung his arms up and one of them fully broke off from the elbow and flew three feet away. The humming suddenly intensified, along with more static noise, and this feeling that all the energy in the air and the ground and the nearest benevolent necromancer was being drained into him.
As this went on, his head slowly turned to align his eyes with the visage of this blind, blue-robed figure. There was no expression on his face.
If one were to look closely at his severed arm, there's no blood. It's just some kind of prosthetic made of terracotta flesh and iron bones.
The black-haired man not on a wheelchair was just there, half-buried in sand, with a fat snake wearing another snake's skull, which he held tight between his chest and hands, and kept safe for the rest of the night even when he fell asleep during the storm.
Right now, he's just there. Unmoving. His 'eyes' lacking eyelids, staring directly at the sun. His eyeglasses are missing. More importantly, his wheelchair is missing. There was a sizeable amount of material invested in that wheelchair.
Right now, he's just there. Unmoving. His 'eyes' lacking eyelids, staring directly at the sun. His eyeglasses are missing. More importantly, his wheelchair is missing. There was a sizeable amount of material invested in that wheelchair.
The black-haired man on a wheelchair... was not on his wheelchair. His wheelchair remains on the deck, stuck on the bannisters that would normally keep people from falling overboard.
The deep water.
An unusually quiet place compared to the chaos of the storm above. Light would occasionally flash, revealing merely the foams produced by the harsh waves. This far off from shore, neither bird nor fish would be in sight.
This black-haired man who's not sitting on his wheelchair, was neither bird nor fish. Orange light emerged from his eyes and the cracks in his face, followed by streams of bubbles, as if the immediate water boiled beneath his 'skin'. He began to surge upward, with a speed comparable to swimming sharks. In the depths of the ocean, he looked quite like a meteor, and for someone who'd been avoiding water for all this time, his speed while submerged in it is a decent bit of irony.
@A5G
His hand reached for the closest thing that moved, pushing it up the ocean surface along with itself.
What... Some kind of fat snake? Why is it wearing the skeleton of another snake? He held it close to his chest and coddled it like you would a cat. His voice hummed multiple tones, like a biblically accurate angel, probably because of the water in his system which is being constantly evaporated inside him. "How cute. How have I never noticed such a presence inside the ship? You're safe now. There, there. Cute snake."
After this wave of emotions, finding himself deep at the darkness of the sea and the anger that came with it, to almost being pacified by the presence of a cuddly snake, it clicks in his mind as he breaks down this wall of selective attention span, and finally notices the heavy rain, nay, the storm that they now find themselves in. As another thunder boomed through the skies, he nodded.
Yeah. Now it all makes sense.
He looked around. Oh, no. Where is the ship? More importantly, where is his wheelchair? They both can't be that far, right? Focus. You only have a split-second to spot the ship as lightning illuminates the sky, large as the ship may be. Focus on its huge white sails.
I rolled a D20 on this next bit, for my own fun, and it landed on a Nat 1 LMAO
With every strike of lightning that the clouds spewed, he found nothing. He subsequently looked at the wrong direction. Huge waves obstructed his sight. His unmoving ivory eyes that lacked eyelids were blurred by the heavy rain that fell them. A brutal combination of factors.
Within the vast expanse of a raging sea, he and his newly-found pet snake, were dreadfully alone.
The deep water.
An unusually quiet place compared to the chaos of the storm above. Light would occasionally flash, revealing merely the foams produced by the harsh waves. This far off from shore, neither bird nor fish would be in sight.
This black-haired man who's not sitting on his wheelchair, was neither bird nor fish. Orange light emerged from his eyes and the cracks in his face, followed by streams of bubbles, as if the immediate water boiled beneath his 'skin'. He began to surge upward, with a speed comparable to swimming sharks. In the depths of the ocean, he looked quite like a meteor, and for someone who'd been avoiding water for all this time, his speed while submerged in it is a decent bit of irony.
@A5G
His hand reached for the closest thing that moved, pushing it up the ocean surface along with itself.
What... Some kind of fat snake? Why is it wearing the skeleton of another snake? He held it close to his chest and coddled it like you would a cat. His voice hummed multiple tones, like a biblically accurate angel, probably because of the water in his system which is being constantly evaporated inside him. "How cute. How have I never noticed such a presence inside the ship? You're safe now. There, there. Cute snake."
After this wave of emotions, finding himself deep at the darkness of the sea and the anger that came with it, to almost being pacified by the presence of a cuddly snake, it clicks in his mind as he breaks down this wall of selective attention span, and finally notices the heavy rain, nay, the storm that they now find themselves in. As another thunder boomed through the skies, he nodded.
Yeah. Now it all makes sense.
He looked around. Oh, no. Where is the ship? More importantly, where is his wheelchair? They both can't be that far, right? Focus. You only have a split-second to spot the ship as lightning illuminates the sky, large as the ship may be. Focus on its huge white sails.
I rolled a D20 on this next bit, for my own fun, and it landed on a Nat 1 LMAO
With every strike of lightning that the clouds spewed, he found nothing. He subsequently looked at the wrong direction. Huge waves obstructed his sight. His unmoving ivory eyes that lacked eyelids were blurred by the heavy rain that fell them. A brutal combination of factors.
Within the vast expanse of a raging sea, he and his newly-found pet snake, were dreadfully alone.
yea do it
The black-haired man in a wheelchair leaned to his side, away from Lady DeVespe who's nearly invaded his personal space, much to his discomfort. After she spoke her words, there was a pause, and this man gradually leaned back straight amd uttered, "... Sure."
An awkward silence hung in the air, with him not finding any other topic to talk about, nor not wanting to inquire about that situation any further. He spoke to break it suddenly, "I can walk, you know."
"It's just hard to balance."
Moments further pass, and he could sense it, ever so slightly. Actually there was barely effort to this, given how loud he's being -- "That noble who fell on his face is making another fuss again..."
An awkward silence hung in the air, with him not finding any other topic to talk about, nor not wanting to inquire about that situation any further. He spoke to break it suddenly, "I can walk, you know."
"It's just hard to balance."
Moments further pass, and he could sense it, ever so slightly. Actually there was barely effort to this, given how loud he's being -- "That noble who fell on his face is making another fuss again..."
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