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Planned network provider replacement will occur with downtime the entire day of 2/16 or 2/17.
The stream of bat-coins steadily started getting heavier. They're more like a river now, flowing around buildings and around the people who can't see them.
There's no way you can go home like this.
You and Damon are seated on the edge of Damon's bed, while Angela's chair is pulled up to the two of you.
"A-Angela! What are we going to do about this," you say, pointing to the steady stream of bat-coins flying outside.
Angela nibbles a knuckle on her index finger. "I don't know! Why are you asking me?"
"D-Damon! What are we going to do," you ask, turning to your other friend.
He just shrugs, then flops down on the bed.
The stream of bat-coins continue outside. The loud metallic sound of coins scraping against each other fill the air.
What do you do?
> Have Angela freeze out a wall > Burn through the stream with Pumpkin Fire > Other
(I'm super sorry for being late. I was making bracelets on the rainbow loom and forgot the time!)
"Mom? What color's the sky," you ask, over a bowl of early saturday morning cereal.
"That's a silly question. The sky's blue, of course," she says, not even bothering to turn as she cooks some eggs and some hot dogs. She picks them up with a spatula, placing them on a plate. She does this thing where she cooks the hotdogs first, then uses the same pan for the eggs, so that the egs are also slightly hotdog flavored.
You stab at a hotdog with a fork, stuffing your face with the breakfast meat, then turn a nervous eye to the window. The sky's still red.
The doorbell rings and you hop off your chair to get it. Damon and Angela were on the other side, the former wearing a black shirt with a blue circle on it and the black jeans he'd been wearing for probably a week now, and the latter wearing a pale yellow sun dress with pink floral patterns and her usual gold accessories.
Damon doesn't wait for you to invite him in. "Hey, Mrs. S," he says, pulling out a chair and grabbing some eggs and hotdogs. "Wow, you can at least wait for Solo to invite you in, you douchebag," says Angela.
Despite that, she walks in to chase after Damon before you can say anything. "Good morning, Mrs. Single."
"Oh, I'm hardly a Mrs. anymore you two. Just call me Auntie Sally."
> "I-it's really not a big deal, Angela." > "A-angela's right, Damon." > Don't mind them. Just get back to eating. > Other
You are Solo Single-- a middle student and to be honest, you're kind of a loser.
It's the weekend and you don't really have any plans and you were just going to watch TV all day.
It takes a lot of effort to pull yourself out of the bed. You didn't realize that the blanket was still wrapped around your feet, and you end up falling face-first into a pile of magazines.
Lifting your face up, you notice that your room's a mess.
Magazines, tissues and food wrappers pretty much cover the entire floor. You think that you should probably clean up.
The door rings and you practically trip over yourself just to get dressed. You've probably made whoever's been ringing the doorbell waiting for about five minutes.
The rest of the house, in contrast to your room, is very clean. Your mom keeps everything neat, unlike you, but she doesn't go into your room out of respect for your privacy.
Opening the door, you see your friends-- your only two friends, really-- standing and looking impatient.
The male friend, Damon, was dressed in all black-- a black shirt and black jeans. A red X was emblazoned on his shirt. His black tail lazily swished from side to side.
The female friend, Angela, was dressed in a white sundress with gold accessories. A golden halo floated behind her head.
"C'mon, Solo. Aren't you ready to go yet?" Damon asks.
> Y-yeah. Let's go out. > I haven't even taken a bath yet... > S-sorry, I just woke up.
Me and some other guys here on /tg/ got talking about what class we would be if we'd been given the choice of becoming our childhood dream and accepted it. We dreamt of becoming assassins, warriors, and artificers.
So, /tg/, had you been given the choice of following your childhood dream and taken it, what would your class be today?
Your fingers fly all over the keyboard as you bully and troll everyone that you see in an anonymous imageboard. Your lips slowly form a smirk as you whisper, "Nobody runs a quest I don't like."
As QM's fall left and right to your might, that was when you hear it. You would recognize to excited steps coming up the stairs anywhere. "Great! She is back!" Your smirk is now a cheshire-cat like smile.
"I-I'm back /QTG/-niichan" She says while trying to catch her breath.
"You are back Tale!" You greet her excitedly. "Were you able to do it? Were you able to piss yourself in public?
"N-No I'm sorry..." She tries to avoid looking into your eyes in shame. "I couldn't wet myself in public, I'm a bad girl." Suddenly, your smile is replaced by a look of anger.
"What do you mean?" Your voice thunders towards Tale as you walk over to her. Her skin glistens with sweat as you made her run around town in nothing but her middle school uniform. You forbade her to wear any underwear at all. Her white shirt was almost see through with her sweat which revealed her small, flat chest. "You know Tale, this means you must be punished right?" Tale's small, fragile frame starts to shake, but it wasn't shaking out of fear, but for anticipation.
"P-Please /QTG/-niichan! punish me!"
"Heh, you are the biggest slut I've ever seen." You could see just how excited Tale was as you see streaks of her own juices streak down her right leg. "Now then... how should I punish you?"
Stage 22: Breaking Rules, Barriers, Demigods, and other Precious Things.
“I don't know what they offered you, and I don't know what they have told you, but they weren't important enough, it wasn't enough of either, Hidesato-san. Whoever they were, they threw you into a youkai nest without any warning or any hint as to what could happen.”
You are currently circling the courtyard of the Temple of Forgotten Flowers and Stones, facing off against a demigod who claims to be descended from Fujiwara no Hidesato. Her barrier combat is at the second tier, but so is yours. More importantly, the gifts that your loved ones have given you – faith, love, strength, hope, all of it – has awoken a closer and more intimate tie with the elemental forces that exist within all things. You may still be a Water dragon, but you are a Water dragon who knows her place in the scheme of the universe.
You lash your overly long tail as you air-walk inches above the eart, closer to a being of spirit than you are a mortal at the moment. Shock white hair floats in the nonexistent breeze, and your right and left hand glow with ruby and sapphite light, while the scar along your chest shimmers with lighting. Your Pearl is bigger than a man's fist, and it glows an unearhtly untraviolet. Your skin is the grey of unworked stone, smooth and yet supple, though your left arm is mostly indetructible.
The Valiant Universe RPG just dropped in PDF form - anyone else have a copy? I've been skimming through mine. Since it's based off Cosmic Patrol, I like how you rotate narrators, but I wish the powers had actual effects like, say, Marvel Heroic or M&M. But it seems simple enough. Some degree of improvisation required for narrators, without many guidelines, though.
You are Gertrude Pool, Sophomore Class President and new commander of Lafayette Girls Academy’s revived Tankery Team.
…
You went to sleep last night with two of your best girls, Bernadette Fairless and Kitten Smith. Good thing it’s a weekend, thank god, but holy shit they will not wake up. You don’t mind, honestly, but lying in bed with nothing to do tends to grate after a while.
Kitten grumbles as she cozies up on your arm, keeping it down. All she wears is a tank top and her pretty pink panties from way back that Anna made for her. You still think those are cute as fuck. And on your other arm, Bernadette Fairless slumbers like a rock. She’s not even cuddling, she’s actually just lying on top of your arm.
You can’t feel that arm anymore, and you have a slight suspicion that it’s somewhere compromising.
There’s a knock at your door. Oh boy. This is going to take some maneuvering.
> Just lie there. > Try and stealthily get your arms free. > LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR > Write in
I just figured out how to decisively win the 40k setting. just hear me out
>set up a communications network across the galaxy, ensuring that as many orks as possible are able to use it >find a well known warboss, somebody trusted by orks everywhere, like ghazghskull or something >have him send this message across the network >GOOD NEWS BOYZ! WE KILLED EM ALL! WE DEFEATED DA HUMIES, DA ELFS, DA BUGZ, DA ROBOTS, AND EVEN DA LITTLE BLUE TASTY ONES! ALL YOU GOTTA DO IS KILL DA ONES YOU'RE FIGHTIN AND IT'S OVER, WE WON, DEY ALL DEAD! >billions of orks across the milky way now believe that everyone but them is dead >suddenly, the imperium of man explodes in a red mist, along with all non-greenskin xenos >flawless victory
