| Speculative biology is simultaneously a science and form of art in which one speculates on the possibilities of life and evolution. What could the world look like if dinosaurs had never gone extinct? What could alien lifeforms look like? What kinds of plants and animals might exist in the far future? These questions and more are tackled by speculative biologists, and the Speculative Evolution welcomes all relevant ideas, inquiries, and world-building projects alike. With a member base comprising users from across the world, our community is the largest and longest-running place of gathering for speculative biologists on the web. While unregistered users are able to browse the forum on a basic level, registering an account provides additional forum access not visible to guests as well as the ability to join in discussions and contribute yourself! Registration is free and instantaneous. Join our community today! |
| The Spectacular Journey; Y'all better get ready for a ride. | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 15 2012, 02:21 AM (3,305 Views) | |
| Kamidio | Jun 15 2012, 02:21 AM Post #1 |
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The Game Master of the SSU:NC
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I honestly thought today was going to be an ordinary day. How wrong I was. First, the stars in the sky faded away, one by one. Then there were the bombing runs in Alabama. Apparently, ghostly Nazi war planes had somehow managed to reanimate for more attacks on the Allies. Not to mention that when I went online to find out what was happening, several news sites were claiming that it wasn't just here. Ghosts, ghosts everywhere. The Mexicans were being attacked by Aztec specters, Northern Ireland was being attacked by undead potato farmers, aliens were being spotted over Washington and Siberia, Neanderthals were seen hunting mammoths in France, and vikings were sinking Somalian pirate ships. There was even an address by our President... Reagan. All he said while on TV was how he knew this would happen, and how he was right all along. To be fair, the speech was directed at the older generation of War Hawks, and not at the younger generations. I agreed with him. Even if he was a zombie. But none of that was what I would consider weird, compared to the one thing that did scare me. You know how a problem isn't a problem until it has effects on you? This is one of those situations. See, after looking at all the news websites, I went to my nice little patch of heaven I call my website. It's a nice-sized forum. The members tend to be good people from around the world, and though I would probably joke about it, I honestly wouldn't wish them any serious harm in these crazy times. But that's what scared me. Not a single soul was online. Not one. None of the mods, not even the guests were online. It was eerie. For a site normally so full to suddenly become a ghost forum, it was just plain wrong. It'd come to my mind that maybe, just maybe, everyone who used the site had been seriously injured, or even killed in all the chaos. My members. My virtual family, could be dead or dying, and I have no way of helping them. Then, a beacon of hope came to me. As I refreshed the page, there was a new member. But instead of having an italicized name, their name was a deep black, with bold applied to it. There were static-like blocks on either side of the lone letter. It simply read ''M'. I refreshed again. There was something in the shout box now. 'M:You're worried, aren't you? I replied immediately. Parasky: Yeah, why wouldn't I be? This is my website, after all. Low traffic would be bad news for me. 'M: I can see right through you. It's not the site you're worried about, it's your members. Your friends. This guy was officially creepy, but knowing that weirder things have happened today, I decided it wasn't too far of a stretch for some internet weirdo to be able to tell I was lying. 'M: You want to help them, don't you? If you step outside, I can help you save your friends from 'them'. Parasky: Who's them? Why should I believe you, some crazy person I just met on the internet? 'M: Because deep down, you'll take any chance to save them, out of the basic altruism all you humans show for one another. Inside that head of yours, a little voice is telling you to step outside. And it's growing. You can't stop the voice. Go, step outside and help them. Parasky: Fine. I reluctantly decided that if the world was falling apart, then I might as well indulge a crazy person. Getting out of my chair and pushing it in under my desk, I made for the nearest door that lead outside. As I opened it, instead of being greeted by a view of my lawn, I fell into an empty white space. Multicolored lightning shot out of the area where I assumed my computer was in this empty white space, and everything went black as I faded out of consciousness. When I came to, I was no longer in the vast white void. Instead, all around me was a land right out of a steampunk convention. Most notably, the world no longer looked like it did normally for me. Instead, everything looked like it was painted with oil paints. People had exaggerated physiques, right out of a cartoon. Pulling myself up and dusting my pants clean, I could tell I was on an airship. I also noticed that I seemed to still look like I did when I left, minus some dirt stains that looked air-brushed on. Looking around, I noticed someone wearing a long, flowing cape with wavy blond hair. His clothes looked like they were made for royalty. I'll admit, the guy looked like a pompous ass. But he, being the cleanest person on this steampunk ship, was clearly in charge. He hadn't noticed me yet, so with the advantage of surprise, I sneaked up behind him, and poked him in the shoulder. "What is it that you want, sailor? Can't you see that I'm busy trying to find a path that will lead us away from the Germans?" "Germans? What is this, the Second Great War?" "As a matter of fact, yes. I swear, why did Her Majesty Queen Victoria allow Americans to serve with the Royal Privateers. They're all so dreadfully dull." "Hey, who ya callin' dumb?" "You, obviously. Now shoo." The blonde man turned to face me. Now that I could see his face, I could say one thing. He was one of those pretty boys. He had blue eyes and a round face. Kinda like something you'd see in some kind of fantasy. Fitting, considering he was apparently the captain of a steampunk skyship. His oil-painted eyes locked with mine. "You aren't one of my men. Who the hell are you, how have you boarded my ship mid-flight, and why do you look so blasted bizarre?" I thought about giving my real name, but I realized that might not be wise, seeing as this was clearly a different world. There was also how I got here. I had no idea, other than 'freaky computer magic'. so I decided to go the quick route. "I'm bizarre? Look in the mirror, paint boy. By the way, name's Parasky." The blonde man looked at me pensively. Then, he extended a hand to me in order to initiate the handshake. His expression softened. "Hello, Parasky. I honestly expected you'd be more, more..." The man clearly recognized the name. How he did, I was soon to find out. "Oil painty? From your world?" "Well, if you put it that way, yes. Shouldn't you be in Kansas?" He paused before a shocked expression took over his features. "How rude of me! You won't recognize me because I never show my face on the forum, but you might recognize the name of this vessel." I turned to where the blonde man had pointed at a metal plate bolted to the wood in front of the wheel. It was adorned with images of a various sharks. They all had one thing in common. The were mackerel sharks. Lamnidae. In one corner, next to a pair of sharks, the word 'Lamna' was there in stylized text. I looked from the plate to the man, and then back again. I don't know how long I stared, but I know one thing. I knew at least one of my staff was alive. "Lamna!" I grabbed him and pulled him into a quick man-hug. "It is odd to hear that name after so long." I broke the hug. "What do you mean 'after so long'?" "Speculative Evolution went down about eight years ago. I never got why, but I just moved on. Eventually the war broke out, and I joined the Royal Privateers. I haven't heard from anyone except Holben, who serves as my second-in-command here on the ship." He snapped his fingers and a clockwork robot came running up to the wheel. "Holben." "Yes, sir?" "Tell me what you can about this man." The robot leaned in, taking me in with its glass-pane eyes. "He does not seem to be normal. I suggest birth defect." "Incorrect. This is Parasky. Surely you remember Speculative Evolution?" Lamna took the Holben's hand and put it against mine. I'll admit, Lamna's silk gloves were amazing to feel. Even if it looked like paint. Holben's hand however, was like shaking hands with a bunch of welded metal. As the forced hand shake with Holben broke off, I looked him dead on. "I knew it. You were a robot the entire time." Holben shrugged. "It was kind of obvious if you think about it." And he was right. It was incredibly obvious. "So you two have never met the others? Ever?" Lamna shook his head solemnly. "None of them. If you're clearly not from our world, then the others might each come from their own worlds." Holben picked up on the thought. "It might mean Speculative Evolution was some form of portal. Not sure how or why though." That piqued my interest. "Wait, if you're from a world in Steampunk World War II, then how the hell do you have internet?" Lamna shrugged. "I don't know all the details, but I'm sure someone from the old site would've said 'Magic'." "You mean Fakey?" "Who?" "Fakey, you know the goo-" BOOOOM "Sir, a German U-Flyer off the port bow!" Lamna, with quickness I would never have expected, took to the wheel and turned it so fast the ship did a barrel roll. I saw the landscape below for the first time. It was a nearly obliterated London. Air ships were duking it out with what resembled U-boats, if they were made from bronze and brass and spewed black smoke. "Men! To arms! Give it your best, Her Majesty's safety is riding on our victory! Ready the guns! Prepare to board!" As Lamna gave out commands rapid fire, each one was being carried out as he named off the next task. I was inspiring to see him commanding his sailors with such efficiency. The guns turned and fired steel harpoons at the U-Flyer, reeling it in and taking out its engine in the process. The sailors all boarded the aerial death machine. Lamna's expression was one of steel. His ocean-like blue eyes seemed to rage, his blonde hair flowing behind him in a ponytail as he donned his tricorne. He was like a conductor, and his sailors where his orchestra. Holben stood in the crow's nest, hooking his hands into some form of giant turret. I watched as the sailors who entered the Nazi warship were driven out by men in warsuits that looked like they were made of gears. One of them picked up a sailor and squeezed until his bones were powder, throwing his corpse into his crew mates. "They've got Panzers! Holben! Open fire!" Holben nodded resolutely as the giant turret rotated to face the enemy. The sides on the guns read 'Spitfire'. The turrets let out loud crashes of sound as they shot balls of molten slag at the Panzers, welding the metal armor to their own ship, and even their own armor, immobilizing them. Lamna signaled for more slag to rain down upon the airborne spine of the Wehrmacht. I could hear the pained screams of the Nazis as the heat of the melted metal flowed into their life-support apparatuses, sealing them like anchovies. As the threat was dispatched, the sailors once more laid siege upon the warship, coming back with stolen guns and weapons. The harpoons retracted at an incredibly fast pace, ripping free of the U-Flyer and sending it crashing to the ground. I continued to look at Lamna. If he was doing fine and lived in an entirely different world, then maybe the others were fine too. Still, that 'M guy wouldn't have sent me here if they didn't need saving. My thoughts were broken as Lamna snapped his finger in front of me. "What?" "I asked if you would like to join Holben and I in my quarters for dinner." "Sure. I'd love to." "Go wash up then. Holben will lead you to the washrooms." Lamna snapped his fingers before turning back to the wheel, Holben jumping down from the turret and signalling for me to follow. Today was clearly no ordinary day, but instead, the beginning of the biggest adventure in my life. Edited by Kamidio, Jun 15 2012, 12:50 PM.
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SSU:NC - Finding a new home. Quotes WAA
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| Kamidio | Jul 7 2012, 07:30 PM Post #61 |
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The Game Master of the SSU:NC
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SSU:NC - Finding a new home. Quotes WAA
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| urufumarukai | Jul 8 2012, 02:00 AM Post #62 |
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Hitler is my spirit animal
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JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM! |
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Henry you dick! Mr. Hands "Am I boring? Depends, do you like watching documentaries about 19th and 18th century warfare, having complicated feelings about bismark and crying over the film of winston churchill putting flowers on FDR's grave. If so then I'm so fucking boring. " | |
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| Kamidio | Jul 8 2012, 03:38 AM Post #63 |
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The Game Master of the SSU:NC
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But really, I'm just The Chessmaster and I predicted every single character in the SSU2. This is going to be an alternate universe where many things are different. Namely, Rule of Cool becomes a major driving force. |
SSU:NC - Finding a new home. Quotes WAA
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| bloom_boi | Jul 14 2012, 06:39 AM Post #64 |
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What The?
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I want to see updates! Updates of Spiderman! |
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"You shall perish, whatever you do! If you are taken with arms in your hands, death! If you beg for mercy, death! Whichever way you turn, right, left, back, forward, up, down, death! You are not merely outside the law, you are outside humanity. Neither age nor sex shall save you and yours. You shall die, but first you shall taste the agony of your wife, your sister, your sons and daughters, even those in the cradle! Before your eyes the wounded man shall be taken out of the ambulance and hacked with bayonets or knocked down with the butt end of a rifle. He shall be dragged living by his broken leg or bleeding arm and flung like a suffering, groaning bundle of refuse into the gutter. Death! Death! Death!" | |
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| Kamidio | Jul 14 2012, 07:22 PM Post #65 |
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The Game Master of the SSU:NC
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YOU GET UPDATES WHEN I MAKE THEM! |
SSU:NC - Finding a new home. Quotes WAA
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| Scrublord | Jul 18 2012, 09:42 AM Post #66 |
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Father Pellegrini
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And that would be. . .? |
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My Projects: The Neozoic Redux Valhalla--Take Three! The Big One Deviantart Account: http://elsqiubbonator.deviantart.com In the end, the best advice I could give you would be to do your project in a way that feels natural to you, rather than trying to imitate some geek with a laptop in Colorado. --Heteromorph | |
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| trex841 | Jul 18 2012, 10:01 AM Post #67 |
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Entity
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Sometime after he can make posts again. |
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F.I.N.D.R Field Incident Logs A comprehensive list of all organisms, artifacts, and alternative worlds encountered by the foundation team. At the present time, concepts within are inconsistent and ever shifting. (And this is just the spec related stuff) | |
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| Mr Mysterio | Jul 19 2012, 04:53 PM Post #68 |
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Waiting...
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WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! |
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Dumb Quotes Coming Soon/To be Rebooted: How To Hunt Gods - Everything you need to know about Gods and the art of God-killing. Intrazoology - The world of semi-corporeal lifeforms. A world you walk through every day, without even knowing it. The Dungeonverse - Magical creatures forced to adapt in huge, underground caverns, while surface-dwelling humans go dungeoneering for treasure. Crossover - A mish-mash of worlds, with Earth smack in the middle of the chaos. What could go wrong? no worries ![]() | |
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| Scrublord | Jul 19 2012, 05:46 PM Post #69 |
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Father Pellegrini
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Shame. Anybody want to pick up the story? |
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My Projects: The Neozoic Redux Valhalla--Take Three! The Big One Deviantart Account: http://elsqiubbonator.deviantart.com In the end, the best advice I could give you would be to do your project in a way that feels natural to you, rather than trying to imitate some geek with a laptop in Colorado. --Heteromorph | |
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| urufumarukai | Jul 19 2012, 06:05 PM Post #70 |
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Hitler is my spirit animal
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I feel like thats tampering with his image it just feels wrong
Edited by urufumarukai, Jul 19 2012, 06:06 PM.
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Henry you dick! Mr. Hands "Am I boring? Depends, do you like watching documentaries about 19th and 18th century warfare, having complicated feelings about bismark and crying over the film of winston churchill putting flowers on FDR's grave. If so then I'm so fucking boring. " | |
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| Mr Mysterio | Jul 21 2012, 11:48 PM Post #71 |
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Waiting...
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No need to tamper. He's back! |
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Dumb Quotes Coming Soon/To be Rebooted: How To Hunt Gods - Everything you need to know about Gods and the art of God-killing. Intrazoology - The world of semi-corporeal lifeforms. A world you walk through every day, without even knowing it. The Dungeonverse - Magical creatures forced to adapt in huge, underground caverns, while surface-dwelling humans go dungeoneering for treasure. Crossover - A mish-mash of worlds, with Earth smack in the middle of the chaos. What could go wrong? no worries ![]() | |
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| bloom_boi | Jul 23 2012, 07:39 AM Post #72 |
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What The?
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HA HA HA Oh man, nobody picks up a fakey story, silly
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"You shall perish, whatever you do! If you are taken with arms in your hands, death! If you beg for mercy, death! Whichever way you turn, right, left, back, forward, up, down, death! You are not merely outside the law, you are outside humanity. Neither age nor sex shall save you and yours. You shall die, but first you shall taste the agony of your wife, your sister, your sons and daughters, even those in the cradle! Before your eyes the wounded man shall be taken out of the ambulance and hacked with bayonets or knocked down with the butt end of a rifle. He shall be dragged living by his broken leg or bleeding arm and flung like a suffering, groaning bundle of refuse into the gutter. Death! Death! Death!" | |
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| Kamidio | Aug 5 2012, 02:02 AM Post #73 |
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The Game Master of the SSU:NC
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JIMMY RUSTLING PERSPECTIVE SHIFT TO A STORY THAT HAS LITTLE TO NOTHING TO DO WITH THE TWO PARTER PROLOGUE, BITCH! The village of Tundrewyd had a very persistent pest problem. Very typical considering that the group of stone buildings was located in the middle of a wolf-infested forest and the moon never stopped glowing a pale white. Save for those occasional nights where it vanished under a blanket of darkness, but those could be dismissed as the works of higher beings needing to re-strengthen the spell that let the giant stone glow. Back on the topic of Tundrewyd's pest problem. The latest outbreak had forced the village to take action and request the help of a band of traveling monster hunters. The group was one of the most renowned though the land of Selevocupiva(Celev-auwk-EWE-peevah). They were the Etmadeors(Eht-MAH-daeors), hunters of the outbreaks of foul beasts that could destroy entire villages if left to their devices. But that's why the Etmadeors took arms. Currently, they only numbered four, but four was enough to take of the blood-drinkers, the houndmen, the two-faces, and the dead walking. All of them wore long leather coats that nearly dragged in the dirt, with belts covered with silver and wooden stakes, axes, whips, potions, and medallions emblazoned in the image of the Great Scythe. However, each had something that set them apart. At the front walked a rather stout man. He had some fat, but this was to disguise the muscle beneath. Strapped on his back was a large and menacing hammer, spikes jutting out of it like a butcher's mallet. At either side were two rather complacent men. One wore a mask to hide his features. Across his back were a set of halberds. His heavily muscled legs and arms were covered in scars, and showed his prowess at duel-wielding a weapon that was hard enough to master in an of itself. The other was a thin man who wore a tricorne over a set of curly brown locks. He wore a set of white gloves with the image of the Great Scythe upon them. Across his shoulder he held a long musket with a telescope attached to the barrel, as if it were a pole with buckets of water on the ends. Indeed, most of his supplies dangle from the tip of the barrel or from the stock. He wore patches on his eyes and a grimace crossed his face as he walked over a puddle. At the back was a man who carried a book with the ever present scythe upon it. His face was far more indifferent than those of his companions. The man with the musket broke the silence first. He glanced back at the book-carrier, though the patches made him look as if he were staring elsewhere. "How long must we dirty our feet in this forest, Equmazom? I told you we should have gotten a horse for this trek, but no, you said that we couldn't spare money for one." "Silence, Outreciel. Your whining is not getting you anywhere. As I said, you will get a horse when a dragon joins our band. And that in and of itself is a laughable prospect, so don't count on it. Besides, we are nearing our destination. You may rest when we arrive." The man with the hammer stopped and held out an arm to halt his group. "We're here. This settlement reeks of houndmen. Draw your weapons and keep close. Outreciel, to the front. You know the procedure." The thin man nodded. The 'man catapult' wasn't his favorite method of movement, but it beat walking in mud. Lifting his eye patches, he looked at the town. Of in the distance was a bell tower. Pointing at it, he closed his patches and jumped into the air. He felt the impact of the hammer on the bottoms of his boots and the wind on his face. By some miracle, his tricorne stayed on his head. *tump tump* His boots lightly clanked on the roof of the bell tower. He was by far the least mobile of the group, as he wore boots of iron. But he did have a very important role. Taking his musket from his shoulders, he looked into the telescope on it. All the fires in the town were put out, and the doors had silver hanging from them. Houndmen walked about, sixteen in total. "These villagers are smart, for a bunch of rock-farmers." By the use of Morse code via reflected moonlight, the group got the information they needed from Outreciel. "Equmazom, Nereus, go in. I'll take the west, you two take the east and center. Outreciel will cover us. Move out." The typically silent halberd user, now identified as Nereus, spoke for once. "Must I always get the center of a village? For once I would like to get the west, Nod." The hammer man dead-panned, having heard the complaint before. "No." Nereus charged in. "One of these days, Nod." As the rest of the monster fighting band rushed in, the houndmen finally noticed the intruders. It wasn't much of a fight, with all of them being killed easily. Sliver dust was spread over their bodies to prevent them from reviving. Despite the name, it was inexpensive to make. It was a simple powder made from the scales of moths' wings and some herbs. Coincidentally, it also made for a nice soothing tea. Outreciel climbed down from his tower and made to regroup with the rest. His eye patches were flipped back down, and his musket back over his shoulders. He'd offed some of the houndmen with well-placed musket rounds to blow their muzzles off of their faces. Still, as the team tactician, it seemed odd that it was this easy. Equmazom was the first to notice the alpha houndman loping in on them. "TAKE COVER!" Outreciel and Nereus were quick to respond, but Nod was a bit more ballsy. He swung his hammer to try and break the mutt's jaw, but it halted and let the hammer embed itself into the ground before attacking. It lunged, taking Nod's arms into its mouth just before its brains exploded all over a wall. Nod looked to Outreciel, who'd closed his patches and put his smoking musket over his shoulder's quick as a whip. "Equmazom, help." Nod held his bleeding arms forward, the deep puncture wounds a simple matter to him. Equmazom opened his book and flips a few pages before muttering a healing incantation. The wounds closed and the blood sucked itself back into the holes. "Thank you." "Not a problem. I say we rest now, for tomorrow we go to Smytheentrop to take care of some blood-drinkers, and that is far out by the sea. We'll need much energy if we are to get there and take care of their pest problem." All of them nodded and made way to the town's inn, but as Nod entered he scratched at where he'd been bitten. Meanwhile, out on the Dussgerencii Sea The hot sun beat down on a ship that had become stranded on a long strip of parched and cracked land. It seemed deserted, as it no one had touched it for years. There were no signs of sails or a flag. Only the ropes that they would have been attached to. However, not all was as it seemed. There was still activity on this island of death, Banhiem. One just had to look in the right places. At the top of the mast sat what looked to be a corpse. The build-up of sand in the crow's nest suggested the body had lain there undisturbed for ages. And it was. The area seemed so dead and desolate, that one might forget the ever present seabirds. A migrating albatross decided to be the first thing to land in decades. It roosted on the head of the buried corpse and prepared to make its nest in the hair. It was nice and thick, and relatively nice to the touch. The bird was one of those who thought of the finer things in life, like plush pillows filled with mammal fur or perhaps subjugating and taking advantage of the lesser birds. He felt smug with himself, for he'd found what as by far the most magnificent mammal fur on the planet, and being an albatross, he'd traveled the world over. So imagine its shock when a hand shot up and gripped the bird by the neck, tightly. "SQUAW SQUAK SQUAAAAA-" *CRACK* The bird's head exploded and popped off, the force with which it had been ripped from the body allowing the albatross to be the first of many living things to be incinerated in the sun. So, can you guess who is who? Probably! Is that last line fore-shadowing? Probably not! Can you tell albatrosses are going to become my go-to comic relief? YOU BET DERPY'S SWEET ASS THEY ARE! Edited by Kamidio, Aug 5 2012, 11:47 AM.
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SSU:NC - Finding a new home. Quotes WAA
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| seascorpion | Aug 5 2012, 03:10 AM Post #74 |
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Why Can't I Hold All These Mongols?
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I have a vague idea of who is who. |
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| Carlos | Aug 5 2012, 06:03 AM Post #75 |
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Adveho in me Lucifero
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Why? |
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Lemuria: http://s1.zetaboards.com/Conceptual_Evolution/topic/5724950/ Terra Alternativa: http://s1.zetaboards.com/Conceptual_Evolution/forum/460637/ My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Carliro ![]() | |
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9:24 AM Jul 11