megavoltar

safunga galunga shashashunga

its gonna be like the ITIS episode from the boondocks

Scouting Droid HAL, was scared

Ooooh i get it, its like the thing where you respawn at the fiery thing with a sword in the dark fantasy game that is hard I like

ate it

shushunga

Application NAME: Seabreeze The Rat GENDER: Male...? Age: DEAD REASON or REQUEST: God... He loves Haelun'or, after finding from some drunk and high sailor from PURE AND UNADULTERATED DESCENT, the Mouse King had made it known to himself that the Silver State of Haelun'or identified as A GUY. And so, with his love of the SILVER STATE OF HAELUNOR in tow, the small mouse king made it so despite the fact that he was dead, that if there was ever a time that he could marry the SILVER STATE OF HAELUNOR, he would do it. Application NAME: The Silver State of Haelun'or (Underneath the Banner of the Horde) GENDER: Male Age: Several Thousands+ REASON or REQUEST: On request of the former mouse king, Seabreeze, anonymous request

finally, a proper vampire lore that doesn't involve (or allow) twink boys.

First-class Private Grungo Gwingo smirks at this missive, smoking his fashioned cigar as he speaks into a room of nothingness due to his chronic schizophrenia and the constant turmoil that it brings. Seeing invisible people in the room that he smugly remarks to as if he was actually doing anything besides feeding his mental illness. "Ha huah ahuhahuha. War." He said smugly, with smug posture and smug remarks as he gives a solid middle finger in the general direction that he assumed the current direction of the Jesstinations

Private First Class Grungo Gwingo is currently having a seizure due to overdose and cannot think of anything smug or annoying to say to an empty room smugly.

Sex lore

this is a new one... BLoodplay

stranger rp is cool, depends on the group though. If ur in the villiany jungle its a gimp to ur attempts most of the time, too much history of spookies committing mass pink tag murder, and the dreaded quota 4 feeding cas. Otherwise, is just peeps not wanting to rp or them bein in a discord talkin about something else (or waiting for a specific roleplay)

Designated Unit HAL had returned from the Western voyage to Celia'nor, and by proxy Elysium. Heavy and coordinated steps rang out like a metronome as once again the machine had made its peace with the Great Filter. At his finest hour he saw only sorrow among the few and yet familiar faces of the Lectorates, and yet he did not understand. Rather, the machine made to spite the undead had only obedience and death in his head. He did not understand the great horror of losing a friend, or a comrade, or a loved one. And so it could only return to its place of making, as it slowly began to return to a power saving mode... Drifting in dreamless metal as it thought for mere moments, wondered, or maybe aspired. The unit wished that it had tears to give.

Ur arms are poison CUT OFF YOUR LIMBS CUT OFF YOUR LIMBS

Having returned from fighting unknown infected alien monsters, to which his fellow comrades exclaimed were Elysians, a traveller from far and yet close made his approach to the 'Big Red Room'. The tiki-torchs that he was bringing would make for a splendid cuisine.

El Breezo lights a candle for the fallen dog, hoping its fate remained, for the growing list of things that had been married off to a non-specific group of robbers, Ratto Supreme hoped that the dead dog wouldn't be next.

A certain mouse of Hyspian tongue, an older fellow who had journied far and wide, soon to return home from a long... long penance had procured the missive from a curious onlooker in the conflict. He didn't need to speak towards the empty rooms, in its stead he merely waddled along in his older age. Knowing damn well the homies of Krugmar would get their revenge against the racists.