cRPG
Strategus => Diplomacy => Topic started by: Swifteye234 on July 10, 2013, 01:53:21 am
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My name is Jar and my words hold meaning
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Joe was masturbating in his room.
A carrier pigeon landed on window sill, interrupting his happy-time.
He stared at it for a long while, his hand dripping moisturizer onto the floor. "You'll do," he said. Then he lunged, snatching up the helpless bird, his hand like the eagle's claw. "PLEASURE ME, MESSENGER!"
The bird slid over his dick like a glove.
A few pumps, and it was all over. The animal's eyes bulged, and it exploded, like a little sex grenade, showering Joe with feathers and semen.
Matey burst into the room. "Joe!" he said, "Did you hear about MB's new..." His voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him. He saw Joe sitting on his bed side, covered in semen and feathers with a bird carcass in hand, it's flesh peeled away from the head like a banana. Matey made confused noises, a series of "Uh's" and "W-what's?".
Joe slowly raised a finger to his lips. "Ssssh."
Matey stepped out.
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Lul.
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Joe was masturbating in his room.
A carrier pigeon landed on window sill, interrupting his happy-time.
He stared at it for a long while, his hand dripping moisturizer onto the floor. "You'll do," he said. Then he lunged, snatching up the helpless bird, his hand like the eagle's claw. "PLEASURE ME, MESSENGER!"
The bird slid over his dick like a glove.
A few pumps, and it was all over. The animal's eyes bulged, and it exploded, like a little sex grenade, showering Joe with feathers and semen.
Matey burst into the room. "Joe!" he said, "Did you hear about MB's new..." His voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him. He saw Joe sitting on his bed side, covered in semen and feathers with a bird carcass in hand, it's flesh peeled away from the head like a banana. Matey made confused noises, a series of "Uh's" and "W-what's?".
Joe slowly raised a finger to his lips. "Ssssh."
Matey stepped out.
Kesh saw Matey stumble into the room nearly tripping over the shitbucket with his wooden peg leg gasping for air. "What's wrong, matey? Parrot got your tongue?" Kesh couldn't tell if Matey groaned in pain or at how bad the joke was, either way, didn't matter, Kesh knew that even if no one laughed, the jokes were still funny. Kesh grew more concerned though at the sight of Matey's pale face as he collapsed to the floor. The only words came out in gasps, "bird", "joe". Bird didn't sound that omnious but joe could only mean more rogueish behavior by the wizard in residence - the man who spoke to animals and made horses fly. Kesh propped Matey up in a chair and rushed to joe's room to find out what was wrong. Bursting in - all that was seen was a naked man overed in sticky feathers clucking while waving his elbows like a chicken and waggling his ass covered in feathers jumping out the window. "Wait, no, don't leave us master wizard," yelled Kesh, but it was too late as a loud splash was heard from the moat below. Thankfully joe had chosen only to fly away straight down, Kesh wouldn't know what to do without the wizard to help direct the kingdom to prosperity and the multiplication of the amazing coursers the kingdom was known for.
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My name is Jar and my words hold meaning
This is going to be exciting.
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joe didnt even get to read the message before he popped his pigeon. Next time send a messenger turkey or messenger ostrich.
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Imposter.
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Imposter boy.
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This thread only has 8 posts in it (9 now), and it is already full of so much win.
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It was a magical morning for ChirpChirp. He opened his eyes for the first time, and finally got to see Mother Pidgeon, the endless source of regurgitated worms and loving coos that had sustained him since he escaped his shell. He finally knew what the great nurturing force in his life looked like. For the first time, he was not afraid when she flew away for the day, sure that she would soon return.
ChirpChirp and his sibling were too young to fly--though they were all desperate to try--so they were stuck in the nest and passed the time in their usual manner: gossiping about which chick had the fluffiest down-coat, and debating what kind of food was best to eat. They agreed that worms were tastiest, followed by grasshoppers, and then ants. Squeaky, the runt of the litter, normally would have insisted that they should all eat sticks, but he was half dead in a corner of the nest, feebly mouthing a twig in a rather depressing bid for nutrition. He looked pathetic, like the bugs that they so often ate, and ChirpChirp caught himself wondering what his brother might taste like.
It was an unsettling thought, ChirpChirp realized, brought on by hunger.
Why was he hungry?
Why was there no food?
Where, he shuddered, where is Mother Pidgeon?
The wind soon brought him his answer, in the form of a feather floating majestically in the air. It drifted lazily towards their home-tree, before finally landing in their nest. Curious, ChirpChirp went to investigate the strange object. He smelled the feather, and quickly identified it as his mother's, but something was wrong. It was besmattered and besmirched and begrimed with a foul concoction of red and white slime that smelled vaguely like his dying brother. ChirpChirp new, instantly, that Mother Pidgeon was dead and the chicks would have to fend for themselves if they wanted to survive.
ChirpChirp stepped to the edge of the nest and tested his wings; they would barely respond to his commands. He thought about trying to fly anyway, taking the fell plunge and killing himself, but then he remembered that he had a special brother to take care of, and changed his mind.
He made a plan.
"Brothers and sisters," he announced to his 5 able nestmates, "This is a sign from Mother Pidgeon. We are to fly away and join her in the land of Grasshoppers and Worms."
They muttered nervously.
"This is our time to fly!" he exhorted them. "This is our time to soar through the heavens and become true birds!"
They stirred more vigorously, and Squeaky opened an eye.
"THERE WILL BE WORMS!" He cried.
Mad with hunger, they let out an emboldened chorus of CHEEPS, climbed to the edge of the nest, and jumped. Even Squeaky tried, but CheepCheep stopped him. "You're to weak, dear brother. Just go rest," he said. He watched them fall and--for a faint second--thought that the wind would whisk them away to safety. Merciless gravity soon took over and smashed their frail bodies against the ground. He sat there for a time, just looking at their corpses until eventually the sight of so much uneaten flesh made him hungry.
Finally alone with his brother, ChirpChirp turned to face Squeaky, slobbering at the beak, and hoped that he wouldn't taste like sticks...
-fin-
JOE YOU MONSTER LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE
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It was a magical morning for ChirpChirp. He opened his eyes for the first time, and finally got to see Mother Pidgeon, the endless source of regurgitated worms and loving coos that had sustained him since he escaped his shell. He finally knew what the great nurturing force in his life looked like. For the first time, he was not afraid when she flew away for the day, sure that she would soon return.
ChirpChirp and his sibling were too young to fly--though they were all desperate to try--so they were stuck in the nest and passed the time in their usual manner: gossiping about which chick had the fluffiest down-coat, and debating what kind of food was best to eat. They agreed that worms were tastiest, followed by grasshoppers, and then ants. Squeaky, the runt of the litter, normally would have insisted that they should all eat sticks, but he was half dead in a corner of the nest, feebly mouthing a twig in a rather depressing bid for nutrition. He looked pathetic, like the bugs that they so often ate, and ChirpChirp caught himself wondering what his brother might taste like.
It was an unsettling thought, ChirpChirp realized, brought on by hunger.
Why was he hungry?
Why was there no food?
Where, he shuddered, where is Mother Pidgeon?
The wind soon brought him his answer, in the form of a feather floating majestically in the air. It drifted lazily towards their home-tree, before finally landing in their nest. Curious, ChirpChirp went to investigate the strange object. He smelled the feather, and quickly identified it as his mother's, but something was wrong. It was besmattered and besmirched and begrimed with a foul concoction of red and white slime that smelled vaguely like his dying brother. ChirpChirp new, instantly, that Mother Pidgeon was dead and the chicks would have to fend for themselves if they wanted to survive.
ChirpChirp stepped to the edge of the nest and tested his wings; they would barely respond to his commands. He thought about trying to fly anyway, taking the fell plunge and killing himself, but then he remembered that he had a special brother to take care of, and changed his mind.
He made a plan.
"Brothers and sisters," he announced to his 5 able nestmates, "This is a sign from Mother Pidgeon. We are to fly away and join her in the land of Grasshoppers and Worms."
They muttered nervously.
"This is our time to fly!" he exhorted them. "This is our time to soar through the heavens and become true birds!"
They stirred more vigorously, and Squeaky opened an eye.
"THERE WILL BE WORMS!" He cried.
Mad with hunger, they let out an emboldened chorus of CHEEPS, climbed to the edge of the nest, and jumped. Even Squeaky tried, but CheepCheep stopped him. "You're to weak, dear brother. Just go rest," he said. He watched them fall and--for a faint second--thought that the wind would whisk them away to safety. Merciless gravity soon took over and smashed their frail bodies against the ground. He sat there for a time, just looking at their corpses until eventually the sight of so much uneaten flesh made him hungry.
Finally alone with his brother, ChirpChirp turned to face Squeaky, slobbering at the beak, and hoped that he wouldn't taste like sticks...
-fin-
JOE YOU MONSTER LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE
Brafuckingvo
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not gonna lie.. i thought it was going to be table erotica and skipped it until i saw tanken's praise... then i went back and read it. Beautiful.
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Joe was masturbating in his room.
A carrier pigeon landed on window sill, interrupting his happy-time.
He stared at it for a long while, his hand dripping moisturizer onto the floor. "You'll do," he said. Then he lunged, snatching up the helpless bird, his hand like the eagle's claw. "PLEASURE ME, MESSENGER!"
The bird slid over his dick like a glove.
A few pumps, and it was all over. The animal's eyes bulged, and it exploded, like a little sex grenade, showering Joe with feathers and semen.
Matey burst into the room. "Joe!" he said, "Did you hear about MB's new..." His voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him. He saw Joe sitting on his bed side, covered in semen and feathers with a bird carcass in hand, it's flesh peeled away from the head like a banana. Matey made confused noises, a series of "Uh's" and "W-what's?".
Joe slowly raised a finger to his lips. "Ssssh."
Matey stepped out.
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Why does Huey keep quoting Joe without any commentary added?
Huey the game is still great, you're missing out. Try smoking some greenery before playing, you wont' rage as hard or take it as super cereal.
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Huey still plays. He get's all his play-time in on "my" account.
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Huey still plays. He get's all his play-time in on "my" account.
Which is really just another one of my multiaccounts :wink:
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Hobb rounded the stairs leading to his private dining room, using both hands to make sure his rusty blue morion sat perfectly on his head. The room was empty save for the serving girls standing near the back wall. His presence obviously made them uneasy because their before statue-like bodies now quivered. It was slight, but Hobb noticed. He noticed everything. Taking his place at the front of his table, he didnt waste anytime starting his meal. A clap of his hands sent the servants rushing to the serving table where this nights feast waited. Tonight was special for Hobb, and for once in a very long time he would be eating something different.
With HoC dissolving and the Murder Boners still thinking strategus was viva pinata, Hobb's Empire was forced to take up the trade that its vassals previously handled. This meant dealing with the barbarians known as the free companies of calradia. Hobb hated these mongrels usually, but their was one thing they did manage to deal well. That was bring exotic dishes of food to his Empire with bland meal choices. The serving girl placed Hobb's dinner in front of him and lifted the lid.
Staring back at Hobb's hungry eyes was not the prettiest of sights, but fcc foods never were. The former pigeon was terrible disfigured, its eyes bulging from its head. The bottom half of the bird was ripped open and the whole thing was covered in what appeared to be some sort of white cheese sauce. Hobb's stomach grumbled as he picked up his eating fork and knife. Pausing only to take in the smells one last time, he cut a piece of his meal and plopped it into his mouth.
"Delicious" he said. "These savages sure know how to treat a pigeon."
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Which is really just another one of my multiaccounts :wink:
A Confession! Bannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! :lol:
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Perspiration poured down Kalam's temple. Thankfully, it's sure advance was halted by the chef's hat that he wore for such occasions. The heat from the cast iron pan irritated his eyes, but he slaved on over the coal stove. First, the vidalias and crushed ginger. The intoxicating scent of the series of spices he distributed over the onions carried strong notes of cinnamon, coriander, and cumin. A bowl containing a plump, home-raised pigeon fed on nothing but beer-soaked sweet corn was presented.
The phyllo dough was artfully draped over the ceramic bowl. Kalam's off-tune humming accompanied his movements as he ladled the mixture into the pie. The sheets were layered with a care that only comes with dedication to the lifelong pursuit of gluttony. A praline mixture served to separate each sheet, and when the dish was finally baked, the ruffian covered the pastilla in confectioner's sugar and cinnamon.
"Yes," he said to Matey, who was complaining about Kalam never being there to play chinese chess with him. "...I think this will serve to satisfy the Velucan. Have it sent along with the other gifts, please. Remember- it's the pastilla. Whatever Epic Mealtime dish Joe came up with is for the Frisians. They like Quebecois food, I'm sure."
"Alright," the shielder replied. He didn't really hear what that dirty fake ninja said, though. He was too busy talking about how Kalam and his wife and that old guy with the crossbow never gather to play chinese chess in time. Always spending too much time in the kitchen. What did he say again?
Kalam walked out of the room, presumably read for a long bath. It was too late to ask the hack which package was supposed to be sent where. Matey stared at the packages. One had what looked like a delicate pie in it. It looked too complicated to be good. The other one had some sort of disfigured bird with a cheesy white sauce.
Which one was Kalam's package, and which one was Joe's? Shrugging, he decided to mail the latter. It looked easy to prepare and eat, which was how the FCC diplomat liked his food. The pie-thing could be fed to Joe's horses.
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Perspiration poured down Kalam's temple. Thankfully, it's sure advance was halted by the chef's hat that he wore for such occasions. The heat from the cast iron pan irritated his eyes, but he slaved on over the coal stove. First, the vidalias and crushed ginger. The intoxicating scent of the series of spices he distributed over the onions carried strong notes of cinnamon, coriander, and cumin. A bowl containing a plump, home-raised pigeon fed on nothing but beer-soaked sweet corn was presented.
The phyllo dough was artfully draped over the ceramic bowl. Kalam's off-tune humming accompanied his movements as he ladled the mixture into the pie. The sheets were layered with a care that only comes with dedication to the lifelong pursuit of gluttony. A praline mixture served to separate each sheet, and when the dish was finally baked, the ruffian covered the pastilla in confectioner's sugar and cinnamon.
"Yes," he said to Matey, who was complaining about Kalam never being there to play chinese chess with him. "...I think this will serve to satisfy the Velucan. Have it sent along with the other gifts, please. Remember- it's the pastilla. Whatever Epic Mealtime dish Joe came up with is for the Frisians. They like Quebecois food, I'm sure."
"Alright," the shielder replied. He didn't really hear what that dirty fake ninja said, though. He was too busy talking about how Kalam and his wife and that old guy with the crossbow never gather to play chinese chess in time. Always spending too much time in the kitchen. What did he say again?
Kalam walked out of the room, presumably read for a long bath. It was too late to ask the hack which package was supposed to be sent where. Matey stared at the packages. One had what looked like a delicate pie in it. It looked too complicated to be good. The other one had some sort of disfigured bird with a cheesy white sauce.
Which one was Kalam's package, and which one was Joe's? Shrugging, he decided to mail the latter. It looked easy to prepare and eat, which was how the FCC diplomat liked his food. The pie-thing could be fed to Joe's horses.
Fixed it for you. RP is in italics duh.