Act 5 Act 1 Part 2
Why, who's this young man?
Your name is Arthur Kirkla.
You are pretty enthusiastic about magic and wild lusii. But you have a particular affection for their colourful hides, which you gather and use to decorate your hive. Though you live alone, deep in the woods, you surround yourself with a variety of plushie pals known as hidemates. You often spend your days with them in rounds of live action roleplaying. You used to engage in various forms of more extreme roleplaying with some of your other friends before you had an accident.
You take an interest in cooking, holding particular fascination for baked goods and their seemingly destructive tendencies. You have taken up the study of sneaky Hetalian poisons, and surround yourself with cookbooks. You have no need for copies printed in trollbraille, because you have cast several spells allowing you to see through your other senses. You hope one day to join the honorable ranks of the Cookeradicators. Your trolltag is greaterCotswold and you tend tou use courrect Hetalian grammar and spelling, as ouppoused to the bastardisation of youur ounce beautiful language with the near eradicatioun ouf the final vouwel.
You are presently the leader of the green team, poised to begin a mysterious game with five other friends, in direct competition with another six of your friends, comprising the red team.
What will you do?
It's pretty hard to live action role play when there is no one who is alive nearby. But all of your hidemates are alive to you.
Or at least you pretend to believe that to annoy people.
You prepare a new campaign for one of your favorite scenarios, Black Magic Summoning. His Illuminating Eye presides. To be summoned is an especially detestable fellow, old demon Sandy Claws. You have summoned this scumbag before. Tonight he will do your bidding.
You will play the role of the great summoner.
You begin the ritual with the meticulous preparation of your ingredients.
You don't want to get it wrong. Enough to summon, but not to rip a hole in reality itself. It must be methodical, business-like. And persistent. You only stop when you smell burning.
You recite the perfect incantation as practitioners of summoning arts have spoken for hundreds of sweeps:
"SANTA RITA MEETA MAYDA...RINGO JONAH TITO MARLON… JACK LATOYA JANET MICHAEL DUMBLEDORA THE EXPLORER. I HAVE SUMMONED YOU FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE CHOCOLATIER'S GRASP… SHOW YOURSELF!"
A large purple cloud emits from your waste-paper basket. (What, did you think you would be using a bucket?) Sandy Claws has escaped from you again.
Actually, you have never successfully summoned a demon, but as you are both blind and delusional, you would never know that. But as you observe it-
Another close attempt at summoning the great one.. The circle is adjourned. You offer final salutations to the Illuminating Eye in the customary manner.
Ok, that's not customary at all. You're just kind of weird. You you like licking things since you lost your sight.
It's just that your red chalk is the most delicious chalk. You cannot get enough of it. Anyone who says there is a more delicious chalk out there, or that you can't taste red, simply reeks of sense and logic and sanity.
You take your walking staff, which you use as a weapon kind of like Earth Gandalf who you've never heard of. You will use it to wallop enemies when you enter the Medium.
Your nose begins scouring your countroll through the saliva smears on your monitor for potential teammates so you can start playing. Hmm, no not her. Nope, not her either. Definitely not that guy.
Ok, how about this guy. You like to discuss with him sometimes via chat. You pretend you are a member of the mysterious and noble Bunnyrace, while he does his own goofy thing.
You don't have it in your heart to tell him that your chat RPing is meant humouurouusly.
- greaterCotswold [GC] began trolling aargauCross [AC]-
GC: *GC flies touward youu cave with flapping wings and excited ears!*
AC: ¬-what the hell are you doing
GC: *GC wishes tou give a message tou AC!*
AC: ¬-no seriously arthur i havent got time for this
GC: *GC is a very frustrated bunny!*
AC: ¬-uuuuh...
AC: ¬-im going to shoot you in the face if you dont get to the point right now
GC: Fine.
GC: Dou youu want tou pla a game with me?
AC: ¬-no
AC: ¬-i dont have time for games
AC: ¬-my lusus needs protecting
GC: Isn't it suppoused tou be the outher way arouund?
AC: ¬-i do not care for such trivialities as regular culture
GC: Alright.
GC: But I really want youu oun my team!
AC: ¬-teams?
GC: Yes, a green and a red.
AC: ¬-so TAs playing, is she
GC: Yes.
GC: She made me leader
GC: ouf the green
GC: sou I asked youu!
AC: ¬-GA
GC: NOU.
GC: NOUT IN ANY SOUDDING VERSIOUN OUF HELL
AC: ¬-heh
AC: ¬-is CT playing
GC: I doun't knouw.
GC: I can ask, but I think TA will have already asked him.
AC: ¬-then no
AC: ¬-if i am forced to play, im playing with CT
GC: I can ask!
GC: -
GC: Green team!
AC: ¬-are you certain
GC: Surely youu doun't douubt me!
AC: ¬-
AC: ¬-...
AC: ¬-red team
GC: OUH, COUME OUN!
AC: ¬-sorry
AC: ¬-goodbye
AC: ¬-i will see you when we begin to play
AC: ¬-good luck
- aargauCross [AC] ceased trolling greaterCotswold [GC] -
Well that was entirely pointless. You then decide to troll TC which also proves fruitless. He's not playing with you any time soon.
You guess that leaves…
Oh no. Not Franci. You were only going to ask him as a last resort. You wonder what he wants? You will try to avoid mentioning the game. Hopefully he hasn't caught wind of it yet.
- champagneGarcon [CG] began trolling greaterCotswold [GC] -
CG: 3- whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!
CG: 3- arthur arthur arthur arthur arthur arthur mon ami!
GC: What?
CG: 3- i just got made team leader!
CG: 3- ask her!
CG: 3- its me!
GC: Sure.
GC: Gou ahead.
GC: Be my guest.
CG: 3- oh, okay!
GC: Where youu expecting me touou care?
GC: Soume ouf us aren't that petty.
CG: 3- no, its just...!
GC: Just what?
CG: 3- i was expecting more from you!
CG: 3- franciliy im a little dissapointed );B!
GC: Fuck ouff nubs.
GC: And stop trying to make name puns a thing.
CG:3- ):B!
GC: Gou wank youurself tou death.
GC: Leader is just a title.
GC: I just want tou play the game.
CG: 3- second-in-command?!
GC: What?
CG: 3- do you want to be my secnd-in-command?!
GC: If this is youu trying tou flirt with me again I swear I will rip ouff youu humoungouusly infected bulge and use it tou clean my louad gaper ;(
CG: 3- ohhonhon!
GC: ...
GC: Fuck youu.
GC: Nout literally
GC: Methaphourically.
CG: 3- feel free anytime!
GC: uh
GC: I'll be secound in.
GC: Just run the client disc.
CG: 3- what?!
GC: ...
GC: Youu doun't even knouw what the client disc is?
GC: Boulloucks we're all gouing tou die.
GC: Gououdnight sweet theif, may a crouwd ouf pink-fleshed nubless aliens send thee tou thy rest.
GC: Duoudecim angelus mourtus.
CG: 3- the discs have weird words on them!
CG: 3- i can't tell which is which!
GC: The oune that say 'client'.
GC: Twat.
GC: Let me send a picture.
GC: OUh.
CG: 3- see?!
GC: Yes, I understand.
GC: Wait a secound.
GC: ügyfél -OU
GC: That oune.
CG: 3- and szerveren -O is the sever disc?!
GC: Yes.
CG 3- 3!
GC: 3
GC: Nouw fuck ouff.
- champagneGarcon [CG] ceased trolling greaterCotswold [GC] -
A little later, after the Witch of Heart's heroic arrival in the Land of Nickel and Palaces, you quickly crafted a new weapon, Suoh Notice-Me-Senpai Please. Plus some other cool stuff.
- champagneGarcon [CG] began trolling greaterCotswold [GC] -
CG: 3- mon ami, please inform me as to WHY my load gaped is outside?!
GC: I thouught it improuved the lououk ouf youur planet.
GC: It lououks like an ouverdoune trashy piece ouf shit.
CG: 3- you can't even see my land!
GC: I can smell it.
GC: And it smells like shit.
GC: And pickles.
GC: Four soume reasoun youur planet smells ouf pickles.
CG: 3- off topic!
CG: 3- WHY IS MY LOAD GAPER OUTSIDE MY HIVE!
GC: Youur touilet is ouutside because I wanted it tou be ouutside.
GC: Nout ounly is youur face twice as ugly as I ever imagined it tou be, it make far moure humouurouus expressiouns than I wouuld have expected.
CG: 3- not a toilet!
GC: Touilet.
CG: 3- uhh, your vocabulary makes me sick and im too hadsome too be sick!
GC: Nouthing wroung with my voucabulary.
GC: But soumetimes youu make me wounder what youurs shouuld be.
CG: 3- What.!
CG: 3- What the fuck are you saying.!
GC: Sou... pretty louw then...
CG: 3- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING!
GC: Youur blououd coulouur.
CG: 3- Oh My God who the fuck cares?!
GC: 1) Youu're capitalizing
GC: Youu never dou that unless youu're scared.
CG: 3- no i don't!
CG: 3- i never capitalize!
GC: 2) Youu swoure ouut ouf anger. Same reasoun.
GC: 3) Full caps. OUnly four when youu're angry.
CG: 3- FUCK YOU.!
GC: ;)
CG: 3- not the point here!
CG: 3- bring the load gaper inside!
CG: 3- that is an order!
CG: 3- from you leader!
GC: Fine.
GC: Youu talk tou AA then.
CG: 3- )8B!
GC: Uhh.
GC: Youu have tou dou it soumetime.
GC: OUr youu'll never learn abouut the countext ouf the game.
GC: GA'll get splatted by METEOURS.
CG: 3- what meteors!
CG: 3- No One Said anything About meteors.!
GC: And as great as that may be, we need all twelve ouf us.
GC: Gou.
CG: 3- Meany.!
CG: 3- just tell me yourself!
GC: nou.
CG: 3- why?!
GC: I enjouy watching youu in soucially awkway situatiouns.
GC: Have fun!
GC: (Gout tou gou and sourt soumething ouut ouutside the tree)
- greaterCotswold [GC] gave up trolling champagneGarcon [CG]-
A little while ago, a rust- blooded troll with blank eyes and a ribbon headband floated almost aimlessly around an ancient temple decorated with frogs. She use the psychic abilities that the lowbloods are susceptible too to desecrate the temple by severing the head from the stone from on top of it.
You're not sure why you did that, really.
There'll probably turn out to be a reason. There's a reason for everything. Understanding this lets you be reckless.
Whoever you are.
A little later, somewhere else entirely, another young troll with hands decorated with rings and jewels finds a bottle of sweet, delicious troll vodka on an island.
Uhh, you can't stand this stuff. Just more unawesome land-dweller rubbish. Make you feel sick.
Whoever you are.
PART TWO DONE! Sorry it's so short.
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