Really man no one took the initiative and kept the RP going?? What the fuck is this. Used to be that you wrote some homo erotic bullshit all the Frisians would gladly would join in. That's the golden age of Frisia. I mean winning clan league was fun and all but the RP's yo oh man that shit was so good.
Can someone post the one where we all rp'd and havelle wrote about tables and even jack joined in? I can't find it on mine. And guys going through your post history on this forum is FUCKIN HORRENDOUS (re reading all the horrible autism hurts my soul) I can't do it again so if someone can go through there's and find it.. I feel like that was the pinnacle of human story telling. (Except when miggy came in with his unoriginal bullshit and got 19 upvotes for some unfunny stupid fucking shit that was obviously mean spirited) God those FCC guys were the biggest bundle of stickss. Strange how we went from thinking SS and Occitan and Hosp were the fuckin angry nerds... Well SS has rohypnol and he might be the angriest of them all so that checks out, but some of those SS guys are actually pretty nice and even ended up with us. I remember the first time I talked to Pibb in a team speak (this was before he joined) I was so surprised he was a nice sounding guy and genuinely a nice guy to talk to I came back and told everyone about my experience.
Also how could I forget to put in Taser and testi those guys are true riders. Frumpty. RJ. Phantasmal. Gmno. Negga. Dread. Chaos mercing for us even though we mercd against them literally every time. that one austrlian guy???, some occitan dudes who showed up for every one of our strat fights. But yea taser you are a good guy if you are reading this I'm sorry bro for saying those things about tkov I forgot that you were in there although I've never heard you on ts so to be honest you could be yelling swagolo fuckingg 24/7 talking about how great weed is even though you just started smoking it but I don't care you are a nice guy and I hope you have a good time doing whatever it is you do.
But seriously who is that pwzr guy who upvotes our posts in this clan thread????
Havelle strokes his beard in sadness at the news. He coughs twice and puts his felt cap on. He rummages through the pockets of his brigadine. He strikes a fancy oak table he often sits behind. The same table he had shipped from Bulugar after taking a liking to it. Yes, indeed, he missed Bulugar. But all those lives was a small price to pay for such a magnificent table. The table itself had been finely crafted by an Occitan aligned carpenter from Dugan. Shipped all the to whoever the fuck once owned Bulugar. It was a small gift for the lord there, almost a peace offering, but it was a god damn table. He thought for a moment. Of all the wars that might be waged in the name of this table. What if the table fell into FCC hands? I'm sure Occitan would be furious. However, back to the matter at hand. This table had become home to many of Havelle's important documents. Among these documents was the famous war proclamation on Anders, back when Havelle was a sovereign entity. Infact, that document had been written on that table. It was historical, he dreamed of men one day writing about the table, on that very table. It was a table that would never die, immortalized forever in history. Havelle ran his hand along the table. It had beautifal curves, like a women. He imagined the table being a woman. Havelle had his heart broken many times before, but he knew this table would never do it. This table loved Havelle(in this fantasy). He knew he'd never betray the table, and it would never betray him(the table that is). Havelle looked over at Cikel, sitted opposite from himself. He started to sweat. Had Cikel befriended Havelle simply to run off with his table? Havelle laughed once and shook his head at the ridiculousness of it. A fine table like that, running off with Cikel? Poppycock. Havelle opened a drawer in the table, he found many of his possessions neatly organized. "My!" Havelle said silently, "What space this table has, what utter organization," His thoughts drifted toward his dead wife and son. He lamented on not having an heir to pass this magnificent table down to. Oh, what a world where you can't build a boy out of wood. This thought made Havelle chuckle. He had an heir all along. The table. Should he name the table? No, its a being, an entity. Its a higher power like some sort of deity. He pondered on what kind of wood the table was made out of. Surely there wasn't a tree on Earth magnificent enough to craft such a fine table. A tear rolled down his cheek. He was getting old. He knew one day he would leave the table alone in the world. No one to look after it. What if it fell into the hands of some inner city children, and had graffiti carved into it. Havelle turned his attention away from the table, fearing only heartbreak. He looks up at Cikel and raises an eyebrow. "Should I shave my beard into a fancy dancy mustache?" he asks Cikel.
Remember, together we stand, divided we fall, my dear Artyem.
There's definitely more this is all I could find.
