- Location
- Central Standard Time
I have no idea what's going on, but it seems glorious in the usual SV way.
Sanctioned (Splintered Reboot; QAylor Crack Quest)
- Thread starter Alivaril
- Start date
Frescopino
(Verified Air Freshener)
- Location
- The Pit of Hate
[X] Give in to your desires. Show off Fluffy I, Patriarch of the Fluffy Gamma line.
-[X] You managed to fit in a bunch of nice functions, including toxic teeth and gills and retractable climbing claws and...
Yeah, this will do wonders when talking to him.
-[X] You managed to fit in a bunch of nice functions, including toxic teeth and gills and retractable climbing claws and...
Yeah, this will do wonders when talking to him.
DemiRapscallion
Apathetically Excited
- Location
- California
[X] As Danny Hebert is off ensuring his underlings could survive his absence, you should not be speaking with outsiders. Apologize for the inconvenience, shut the door, and go back to testing Fluffy I.
Not trustin a host unless we can sass the Shard.
Not trustin a host unless we can sass the Shard.
- Location
- US
[X] Give in to your desires. Show off Fluffy I, Patriarch of the Fluffy Gamma line.
-[X] Focus on how he's actually cute this time rather than his overall capabilities.
If Fluffy is the patriarch, does that mean he can breed?
-[X] Focus on how he's actually cute this time rather than his overall capabilities.
If Fluffy is the patriarch, does that mean he can breed?
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Nope. As far as Queen Administrator is aware, that word just refers to the male leader and/or ancestor of a family unit.
- Location
- Tucson, Arizona
[
] Tell Efficiency's host that your parental unit is not home at this time, and as such, you likely should not be talking to strange men who live over water and don't distribute weaponry to children in need.
[] Give in to your desires. Show off Fluffy I, Patriarch of the Fluffy Gamma line.
-[] Focus on how he's actually cute this time rather than his overall capabilities.
-[] You managed to fit in a bunch of nice functions, including toxic teeth and gills and retractable climbing claws and...
] Tell Efficiency's host that your parental unit is not home at this time, and as such, you likely should not be talking to strange men who live over water and don't distribute weaponry to children in need.[] Give in to your desires. Show off Fluffy I, Patriarch of the Fluffy Gamma line.
-[] Focus on how he's actually cute this time rather than his overall capabilities.
-[] You managed to fit in a bunch of nice functions, including toxic teeth and gills and retractable climbing claws and...
- Location
- Iceland
[X] As Danny Hebert is off ensuring his underlings could survive his absence, you should not be speaking with outsiders. Apologize for the inconvenience, shut the door, and go back to testing Fluffy I.
mCooperative
meanderingCephalopod
- Location
- Back in Mitakihara after like 1000 years.
[X] As Danny Hebert is off ensuring his underlings could survive his absence, you should not be speaking with outsiders. Apologize for the inconvenience, shut the door, and go back to testing Fluffy I.
Dreamer Interlude 1
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I'm back home now and will finish setting up my new laptop tomorrow (yay!), which means I can actually format and finish the updates that have been sitting around for weeks. But for now, have an interlude.
The girl with no name wandered through a maze of flowers. Which kind of flowers? She didn't know. Obviously, they were the kind that grew beside gigantic beanstalks too large to support their own weight. Or at least, she thought it was too large. Since no collapse appeared to be imminent, she was obviously wrong. It stood, therefore it was.
It wasn't a very good maze. It only worked because she was too polite to trample across flowers someone had worked hard on. Flowers weren't for stepping, though some were for eating. She'd {eaten / watched herself eat} some, but considering how much she'd enjoyed doing so, they were probably somehow sinful or bad for her. There was a word for that, she was sure. Drugs? Drugs were bad. Except when they were the medical kind, and since she was in a hospital room, she might need those.
Today really did seem to be a day for impossibilities and impossible beings. There'd been a disorganized weapon-person by earlier, one which wasn't the alcoholic version glorified by action movies. Or maybe they had been. The girl had just seen the various exposed barrels making up its body, not what it did in its private time. Maybe those weapons were the gun-person version of dog tags and he carried his grief with him everywhere. Eventually, he'd be approached by a suspicious man with a briefcase who wanted him to kill a bunch of people for some stupid reason, except the reward for mass murder was a medal instead of jail time.
Arsenal would act as though there was no such thing as an ongoing alcohol problem when you were shooting people, the movie would end, and he'd make up for lost time as soon as the cameras shut off. Critics would completely destroy the movie in online reviews, but since it wasn't literal destruction and the movie still made a big profit, the studio would make six sequels.
Once Arsenal didn't need to keep being a responsible and productive member of society, he'd go back to indulging his drug problem. Only then he'd get pulled for the sequel and his drug problem — no, wasn't it alcohol? She supposed it didn't matter. He'd win awards and be praised by some while others complained about persistent racism and sexism in Hollywood. Was there such a thing as racism among gun-people? Were orange-tipped toy guns made to give up their seats for deadly anti-armor rifles? Did they all bow down to the metal halberd appearing on the sides of magazines used by younger guns? And what about their social system? Did toy guns get forced into lives of crime and then killed by halberds who didn't care about their grieving families?
The girl sat down on the grass and decided to eat another flower. Future generations of bad English teachers would say her action symbolized drug abuse, except no teacher had cared about her since—
She ate another two flowers. Grief wasn't a topic she liked dwelling on. She had a dim recollection of it ruling and ruining her life before she came here. She felt as though she could leave if she really put her mind to it, but why would she want to? She could enjoy the sun without burning to a delicious apple crisp. She could have apple crisps if she wanted, and now that she did, there was a plate of them in her lap. Except she didn't actually want them all that much, so she dumped them on the ground and watched them fade. She would never have gotten away with that before, but this was a land of plenty. She could eat all the Turkish delight she wanted without a seedy witch pulling up in a big white van and offering her a pittance to betray her family. Never mind that he'd betrayed her first, left her to—
She ate another flower. She wanted to know more about herself, but she was going about it the wrong way. Nobody liked thinking about scary things, least of all something that had happened so recently. She'd just keep getting distracted by vaguely related memories until she gave up. Taylor would make sure of that.
There were more strange people here, now, and she started to think about things she only vaguely understood until she {awoke/stood up}. They didn't say hello to her, only to her. She didn't mind. She could greet them herself if she wanted to, but she only wanted to say it once, so she did. They chatted for a little while, spoke of friendships that would end in blood and quarantine zones. Rain began to fall from fluffy white clouds, but she still turned their offer down. That kind of friend wasn't the type she needed. Instead, she wanted bouncing baby bundles of uncompromising love, an army of Friends who would sooner die than betray their mommy.
She ate another flower. Dad was with her, now, but only the part of her that was stuck with handling people-things. She hummed and ate a fistful of flowers to distract herself from speaking with him. She'd let herself handle that. It didn't count as avoiding your problems when nobody was hurt by it, right? Unlike how he'd—
She ate another flower. The horseman Pestilence was riding away and she rode away from the horseman. She didn't actually know how to ride a pony, but that didn't seem to be stopping her. Few things did in this place, and after being so powerless, she adored the change.
She frowned and looked up as her pony pushed on through a yellow light. She wasn't supposed to do that. She had a poem for this, didn't she?
Stop says the red light,
Go says the green
Wait says the yellow light,
Blinking in between
KNEEL SAYS THE DEMON LIGHT
WITH ITS EYE OF COAL
SAURON KNOWS YOUR LICENSE PLATE
AND STARES INTO YOUR SOUL
She wondered if it still counted as a demon light when it was merely broken instead of burning. If so, her home town was filled with demons. It certainly explained all the crime and parents who didn't take proper care of their children.
She hopped off her pony, stared at the grove of trees before her, and decided to walk in the opposite direction. She'd let herself handle that place; she wanted nothing to do with it. There were no flowers there. She knelt down and ate another one of the happiness-inducing flower cookies.
She liked the tales of her old life even less than she used to. Boring characters with boring problems doing boring things. None of them were real people, which she felt was technically correct but somehow wrong at the same time. She supposed it wasn't important. What mattered was that he had shown up again, and since he had, she ate another flower.
Her mood worsened further as she continued spending time with him despite his former inaction. She should be glad he was actually paying attention to her now, shouldn't she?
...Actually, yes. Yes she should. Dad hadn't tried to betray her and she'd agreed to go back to being friends with the person who had, so — wait, why had she done that?
She slowly stood upright and started paying a bit more attention to herself. She'd never get anywhere if she kept prioritizing weaponry over cuddles, so she told herself how to fix her new Friends. But there was something else that had puzzled her, wasn't there? Something... the traitor. Except she wasn't a traitor anymore, was she? The traitor was dead and her friend had returned. Emma would be a tiny bit scared and broken now, but that was okay. Taylor never had thrown away the warranty even before she gained magical powers. The company probably wouldn't pay for the damages because they were stupidly stingy about that sort of thing, but that, too, was okay. She could fix Emma herself.
She could fix everything.
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lockingbane
If you're crazy and you know it clap your hands!
- Location
- Waxahachie tx
Well that was vaguely disturbing.
- Location
- Somewhere.
...I'm scared now.
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
If it is, that means I did a good job.
The ominous tone of that last bit may have been completely coincidental. QAylor really can fix everything QAylor cares about, including what QAylor doesn't know about yet.
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