Callistus
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Posts posted by Callistus
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bike racks 3pm c*nt. fuckin oath
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must’ve taken a toll on you.. it all adds up
furthermore, i extend you an apology ahead of time.
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look how their tongues thrash to and fro so emptily, spewing erroneous lies to grasp a worthless touch upon the blood.
but the blood is sacred.
why, the secretion of the pious priest can claim that it comes from the priest’s body although it reeks of stench and is entirely fruitless; and so does this seem to be the case. you folks are and remain folk, that is, peccary and senseless beasts.
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“In the ancient belief of towns torn away from cities and its common-folk, grown in solitude, there was a myth that the sun and moon were no unconscious stars or objects of stone. The sun was the mother, and the moon, the father.”
[!] The rough depictions of a vague, blurred entity are sketched upon parch, scrawled of charred coal, and ridden by moisture.
”I have found myself upon a most unfortunate predicament of the highest order – and I pen this final encounter in the hopes that one day, mayperhaps in the near future, an absolved scholar alike myself may retrieve these words and make of my solemn life-work what they will, preferably an articulate and rational conclusion of the incognitus – and one, moreover, that is true-to-fact.
In addition, I hereby hold in my dying believes that my studies and excursions to the far-by realms shan’t fade in vain as would a dying star, but instead, find themselves in the fine hands of a worthwhile provost. For death seems to well-nigh throttle me where I presently lay, and my breath falls gravely short.
Indeed, friend, my eyes have borne witness to a thing most horrid. It flails feebly amidst these strange woods of shaven bark and eye-lined leaves, for this place I boldly speak of is so hideous, I sincerely doubt it could be even thought a forest among forests. The monstrosity’s outer flesh bellows great obesity and resembles, to a fault, a mighty pouched ball, as if within its guts thrived some viscid batch of fluid. Furthermore, it seems to bolster gargantuan tentacles. I cannot see its head, as it wouldn’t turn, but
I--- must find a way to detail the specifics and further this miraculous find. Death, after all, stalks me like a shadow of my own, and this might truly be the last sketch I ever enclose. An obscure critter, if I may add, one that wore the face of a humanoid, gnawed upon my leg and rendered me crippled, powerless. I can barely move, but I can certainly bide my time. .”[!] The note ends here.
In the near vicinity, a follow-up fragment could be found. Not residue nor a single trace of the ill-crossed author could be discerned, and it would be hence easy to presume the stench hanging in the air to be of a shredded cadaver, buried to the far reaches of the soil, mayhaps that of his own. No clue could be made certain. But at that dead night, the scales of a distant moon shook - and the seed of a God ran its course.
Bleak one; lay me unto my grave.
The blood,
How it flows so softly.
Like the waves that palpitate amid an unending sea.
It churns my lowly mind.
Oh, father.
I can almost see.
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“Cursed be they who trod the earth in death, may unrest forever be their torment.” some bleak remnant of a man murmurs within an endless copse of murk and mire, trudging upon the barren depths of an ancient bog; of his mind was a rotten legacy, for he, too, was rotten and marred, drenched verily in the stench of olden warriors lost to the sands of time. Groans of the forgotten echoed ten feet beneath, stirring at his mind like some festering curse.
“Lachlan. . Albrecht. . Aldrich. . Lachlan . . ͔͖̦̗̗͙J̵̼̫̞̖̫̜̄ͬ͌ͩͨe͍̩̪͖͍͌̓͒̅̄̓̚ͅ-̛̜̋̔́̆̾̀́͜"͔̤̝̣͍̻ͅ
The toll of judgement tore him apart, it was time the man-child laid to peace a broken legacy of hunters.
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What happened with the last rewrite?
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Some spiritless young man trained under the steel fiddles the perished mark of his old caste, awaiting the arrival of a day that would never come. By now, the poor orphan's mind must've certainly fallen unto madness, disapparated beyond recall.
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”It is the old and ancient men who deplored the fear of God, and it is upon old and ancient men that the great wrath of God solemnly fell.”
-Excerpted of an introductory to the ‘Opus of Extermination’, c. 1598
”Ever heard the tale of the farmer, his wolf and his sheep?”
”. . .”
”It is alright. Not many, after all, know of such complications. Simple-folk tend often to avoid these sort of matters, prefering, no doubt, to free their minds of tedious thought.”
”. . .”
”Mmph... it goes like so: a farmer, consorted by his wolf, sheep and cabbage, wishes to transport his flock to the other side. An uneasy complication arises, however, when he discovers the boat cannot carry all three, nor two, but merely himself and either of the ternion. If he seized the cabbage, attempting thereon to traverse the lake, the wolf will ravage the sheep. If he seized the wolf, attempting likewise, the sheep will ravage the cabbage. How then does the poor sod proceed?”
”. . .”
“Indeed, the farmer will take the sheep, where it is on all counts separated from the cabbage, and the wolf, alone, shan’t exhibit interest in the vegetation. He then rows back to gather the wolf, laying him on the other side,-- what?”
”. . .”
”No, no, the wolf isn’t to be left alone with the sheep. For our man shall once again procure, and row the sheep back to the other-side. Our sower then leaves her, garners the cabbage, and sets it besides the wolf.
Then, well, the farmer returns the sheep, and so it went that he emerged succesfuly from the predicament, bearing but joy and well-pride. Hm?”
”. . .”
“Oh, but he doesn’t. As you guessed, the wolf cannot be truly tamed, even if he should adeptly feign the impression of such. For he quietly awaits the man be done with his supper, having dined on the cabbage and left the sheep bare and in ill-defence, when he strikes unexpectedly, tearing with his teeth and claw both man and sheep, the cabbage and the well-prepared meal, feasting thenceforth on all three. The reason such torment befalls our farmer is for he has not prayed to God before his trouble, nor has he expressed grace, and neither, indeed, has he prayed afore his nightly meal. For God, albeit merciful, is not negligent entire, nor is he fond of ingratitude. And the wolf is said to be the accomplice of the devil.”
”. . .”
”But is time you went to sleep, is it not? Come, let us garb you appropriately.”
The wolf, with his great, black tail, the slobbering red tongue of his gaping mouth, his deformed snout and his broken teeth, no longer held yet an ounce of strength. He grievously wailed as the priest yanked him apart, but the barren land was home to none of its kin, its cries shallow and fallen upon deaf, or no ears, thus unheard and disapparated. The vicar in black, reciting preposterously of a strange book, slew the wolf and devoured him whole, plucking thereafter the fur from his teeth.
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Why is it written entirely in spoilers?
Otherwise, I like it
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A young, clean-shaven man fiercely cracks his whip, adamant to school discipline and mandate upon ensigns.
”Did I tell you to stop, you weak-kneed bastards?!”
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1 hour ago, Slothtastic said:
“Yoo’z got beat by a woman? An’ ah ‘umie women too? HA! Week.” Commented Orgak.
“I hold nothing but hate. Hate, and utmost contempt for your race of bloated gargantuans whose only theologies lie in the worship of trees, mud and prancing devils! Begone! May the gods anathematize you a thousand fourty times!” retorted shortly thereafter the old frantic man, held together by some strange godly rite, a case of divine intervention within his age of a hundred-and-some. Truly, death itself well-nigh throttled this raving elder.
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[!] Various letters of various handicraft and manuscript were pinned upon different temples and different sectarian institutes; members of the clergy were specifically beckoned, and so too were the common men of the Empire. Beneath every copy lay marked and engraved a row of initials possibly familiar to some, having appeared in several treatises many times prior.
“It has been a while, fellow pastors, fellow pâtissiers and most fellow men. So long have we been quiet for the indubitably ill-disciplined maids, brides and housewives, so long has the devil been fervent in his craft. For those of you who know not, I have been wed recently to a young wench of ripe flesh and bright silken hair, and only lately have I pondered as to her nightly whereabouts; where else, after all, if not the kitchen, garden or the holy canon church? I had been blind, fallen victim truly to her seducement and flaxen charms, for she dressed like a bleeding *****, a virgin harlot to cast my eyes off her foul nocturnal deeds! Why, of course I have gandered after her at night to see for myself the nature of her nightfall ventures, where she, beyond a shadow of doubt and afore my very watchful eyes appeared to frequent crowded taverns, alleys and even the house of God to consort with yearning, secular and carnal men! Oh, how I wept at the misery that befell me... for I knew, deep within my tender heart her evident lack of all manner of scruple and virtue; indeed, it was as if God Himself let me know! I knew well then to simply bide my time, feign ignorance as to not arouse suspicion, and wait out her inevitable return home by the bed; where I had anticipated her arrival with a tempered lash and a vile whip forsworn to naught but the righteous discipline taught by our Lord! To my fate, most cursed and broken, sleep haunted the well-being of my mind, and it was eventually that she returned and seized ahold of my whip, barking and snarling akin to some rabid dog, and pounding me well-nigh senseless and unconscious with its wicked end! I was thus violated to no end. Of rights, of my manliness, my virility and of my god-given jurisdiction over our blest household. She forced me apart, and bid me ill-well, and I even highly confide in that she turned our god-fearing house into a wretched whorehouse, a den for the devil and the mother of sins, bartering coin for things forbidden and committing in my name the worst manner of iniquity and adultery!
And so may it be that I hereby urge you god-fearing folk to take care that your women are disciplined, solemnly and to a fault, for I wish not even upon my worse enemies that a fate as such occur to them and their sacred households!
Likewise, I ask that the church
schoolteach and enforce such manners of discipline upon their men, so that they may not be ridiculed and deflated by the lesser gender of which the name I shall not even dare let brush my tongue. For what is life but death pending, and what are women but children enlarged?May God save you All.”
- E.L, renowned astrologist and a scholar held in marked esteem
Past works;
An Astrologer's Discourse on the Universum
SpoilerOn the Illegitimacy of Elves - A Call for the Stand of Humanity
Spoiler11 -
A young man of an apparent twenty or such years, by mere happenstance, came upon the parchment promptly in the midst of his tedious pilgrimage; electing hence, only after sighting a depiction of the prince, to rest awhile and read it out.
With great blitheness thus, a smile eased unto the ravager’s face, denoting a great pride and vanity to his own kin; those bound by the flesh and blood of great conquerers.
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[!] Within inns, across sign-posts and over all manner of cathedrals and religious institutes were pinned by hard-nails disputable parchments and collectible missives, detailing a subject of proposed utmost urgency. Within its finality, the initials of a self-proclaimed esteemed scholar were inscribed. The ink used was similar to that of a past work, published no more than a month ago.
“Upon our minds have been planted the foul seeds of indolence and ineptitude, a mark of utmost degeneracy no child of this age or culture has ever dared bring to question – not of its cause, nor of its possible consequence on our commune as a race. Indeed, I have looked and done my studies on this grave matter, and have consequently exposed the grounds by which such taints exist upon our regal race of Humanity! Many centuries ago, during the elder, youthful years of our world, a load of foolish men and scholars amongst humanity concocted contraptions with which to practise and dabble in matters of the unknown, for no other reason than to assuage and quench the nature of their curiosities, or perhaps communicate with the God in a time where prophets had not yet been set upon our world. Surely, these men cannot be condemned guilty for such a deed, for curiosity often tramped on the minds of intelligent men – but what’s more impertinent and degrading to our king-born blood, is the tragedy which unleashed upon us shortly afterwards. Phenomenons were birthed out of our very own earth, magick began to leech into the air and soils, powers and faculties righteously appropriated and meant only for the grasp of God slipt into the hands of degenerate, spineless lesser races – yet in that torturous incident, these so-called descendants of ill-make among elves of the high and dark variants too were born. Anyone who has met a high-elf, the better representatives of their race in entire, could concede of their indolence and unparalleled self-esteem! With great imprudence thus, they dared seize these sorceries from upon the hands of God to then proclaim a bitter and false heirage to our Earth; an inheritance, which by divine decree belongs to none but Man and the supreme children of Horen! And it is with great ignorance and pride, that they still persevere in their egregious lies, boasting their false claims, and breaching the spiritual law of all that is human and divine! Which brings us to the true cause and scourge of this evil, the root from which all manner of sin and mischief was born, lain for decades right beneath our noses. The Elven Menace. Unbeknownst to the naive men of today, it begs the question; why is it that the men and children of mankind nowadays regard some of these deceitful, god-forsaken elves who with great impunity and vile perfidy dare object our rightful claim to the World, with any semblance of sympathy? And to spill their impiety, they even allege that vile catastrophe which brought them to existence alongside monstrous beasts and witch-crafts, to be the very same accursed hour that brought even humanity to Earth! Blasphemies, the lot of it, and so I hereby urge a stand for the seeds of Horen to raise their blades and once again demand our superiority be fortified through blood and steel, for sacrilege against the God is not to be tolerated, and the golden age when we ruled peerless in wealth and in liberty as the greater-ilk of descendant-kind is to once again be returned! Do not fall to this plot by the so-called ancient ones who mock the very truth of our reign and dare falsify our rulership, fight, and fight true – kill those characterized by their vicious elven ears, and restore our continent from these tyrannous usurpers, who by the prescience of the one true God deserve to be driven off!”
- E.L, a star-gazer and a scholar held in the most marked of esteem
Past works; An Astrologer's Discourse on the Universum
Spoiler7 -
[!] Across walls within various hamlets and city inn-keeps were nailed crossways possibly controversial segments excerpted of a propagandist book, distributed by an anonymous author whose vague initials were inscribed on the back.
“For far too long, with ample evidence and sufficient means at our disposal, have we clung to the obstinate fallacies which threatened our collective progression as a common mankind, remaining instead stagnated and temporized in place due to the obstructionist minds of our endeared clergymen. For, although one must have faith, a man enlightened must be open to the contingency of the existence of other worlds, alongside ours, even identical in the manner through which it had been born.
Many might denominate me a heretic, accuse me of dementedness or flagrant delusion, but I have been over the skies with God as my aide, and I have seen what lies beyond the veil of the great welkin. Theories postulating that the stars we gaze upon perpetually within the skies hosted other worlds, a philosophy often held with scepticism and distrust, are beyond a shadow of doubt proven true – and not only through observations of my own, but of others provost and scholarly through whom the theory had gained proponents, that such indeed appears to be the case. It is most shameful and degrading, however, to see how our dear members of the clergy hold in utmost contempt such headways under slander of concocted lies and means of deceit against the Creed of God. Is it wrong to be taught and illuminated of His light, all the whilst holding all laws human and divine in the highest regard? Should He be among us, surely, the creator would encourage such motion and production, and never would He frown upon such promise of prosperity and fruitful progress, rather he would urge us unto unearthing the obscure conundrum laid out beyond the stars. Verily, I do understand how the priesthood may not take to this kindly, and I firmly apologize for what offence this may induce, but it is us, the sensible cooperative of scholars, that have ascertained the presence of such greater anomalies, possibly which will lead us to further evolutions and the dawn of a new golden age. And so may it be that I hereby urge all profound scholars of humanity to rise on – despite pressure from the religious chapter – for growth will not be discovered in blind devotion and reverence alone, but in its unification with diligent Scholarships and a higher faith in what lurks above. Let us find and unveil the mysteries of the universus, for it is nigh-time we’ve awoken from our inexcusable slumber and ineptitude.”
- E.L., an accomplished stargazer
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A young man tore one of the drenched posters, beckoning the caste of Jackals to undertake the hunt.
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52 minutes ago, TheAlphaMoist said:
Dingo saw a lore. He read the title. He immediately posted a meme in the comments to make fun of it. He didn’t read the lore.
You’re jumping too many guns here.
But if that’s the case, then it’s admittedly more of a jab at necromancy as a concept than at the humble piece itself. If he hasn’t read it, then he can’t possibly be shitting on it, nor neglecting the effort that’s been evidently spent writing it. In so, you’re picking out nonsensical reasons to get aggrified over, and that’s detrimental to your mental state, so take a chill pill, calm, and mull over this whole non-existant issue for a while. Or you do you.
But as a heads-up, you won’t get far if a gif’s got you overthinking to such a painful degree. Learn how to take a joke, or an apparently really offensive shitpost.
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54 minutes ago, TheAlphaMoist said:Using big words to sound smart is retarded if you’re going to make it obvious that you don’t know how to read.
really hurt my big brain there.
you blatantly stated that you were against negative criticism if it came from an LT member:
3 hours ago, TheAlphaMoist said:The first thing they’re going to think is “oh ****, a story manager doesn’t like my lore. I’m fucked, my lore is fucked.
so, why not use that manager’s genuine point of view as a kickstart to try and figure out what’s wrong, rather than whinge about their initial disapproval? you’re better off receiving their criticism, however “negative” it may seem, than be left in the dark.
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4 hours ago, TheAlphaMoist said:
They’re going to see your staff tag, and they’re going to view it as a staff comment. The first thing they’re going to think is “oh ****, a story manager doesn’t like my lore. I’m fucked, my lore is fucked.” Or, alternatively, “oh **** it’s that one *******, **** him.” It’s just unprofessional and demoralizing after working so long on something you think is good.
Getting an unsalted response that doesn’t reflect said member’s genuine opinion only puts you under the assumption of having written good lore. But when it’s time for the piece to be professionally critiqued, that mr. nice guy shroud is removed and you’re suddenly bombarded by the fact that it didn’t actually appeal to them. And it hits harder because you’ve been embracing an outright lie for however long it took for them to declare their verdict. Facing the bitter truth upfront at the very least acquaints you with that reality, and motivates you to work towards a better end. Even if it took an unpleasant but honest opinion.
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1 minute ago, Dunstan said:
Boruto posting is a new genera of punk. Can I hire you to write lyrics for my band?
no sorry I have resigned the craft of musical composition
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I expected no less from Mr. Sean here. The novel-writing tone, the spirit, and essence of professionalism and expertise depicted therein truly manifests itself to an exceptional maxima and often leaves me wondering of this man's inner genus, the level of transcendence and consummation to which his merit might stretch, as shown within this truly spectacular display of masterful work -- it is a wonder why he has yet to be inducted into the Story Team, as I believe his facilities and fluency in the deft ways of the language are matched by none in the current roster. The words here truly rhyme and shine out, the way they weave and weld together as though a chorus of untarnished perfection, or musical notes chiming in a comprehensive cacophony of eloquence -- indeed, it elicits forth feelings only ruled and mastered by the likes of Andrzjew Sapkowski, the writer and inspirator for the Witcher games, and preceptors of their crafts such as J.R.R Tolkien and George R.R. Martin. He is precisely, and all what the phrase "a man of perfection" stands for, an effigy of this age and time, who I can see evolving into someone far beyond our humble comprehension -- a talent unmatched. A round of virtual applause for this masterpiece.
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13 minutes ago, Jentos said:
I can already see these things just sitting in the llyria tavern sipping mocha’s and casually conversing about flowers and ****.
mustn’t forget the demon-consorting ascended, as they thrash out words of peace and fallacies amongst those very daemons they sought to exterminate, in that cursed tavern. A sore sight, even to the blind eye.
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I genuinely can't stand these unavailing lore posts. I really can't. It's one of the most trivial, pointless things a person could waste time composing. The idea that you think it's beneficial or entertaining to waste hours of your life in pursuit of mineman power under the veil of "entertainment and bringing together rp communities" speaks about how lonely and piteous you must be to get urged enough to write this.
It probably seems counterproductive for me to scribe this, because writing genuinely makes me angry. It seems like it's near impossible to have a genuine discussion on this place without some ****wit chiming in to call me things like "retarded cervitaur" or "greek ****".
But that doesn’t change the fact that you're literally all rehashes of one another trying to be unique and /creative/, when all you're doing is the same thing -- pathetic power-grabbing and ego-stroking. Your lives are being wasted away because you find it witty to write these worthless threads, when in reality none of this will actually serve you unless you're senselessly addicted to power gaming and ineffectual strength feats. Like you get a dopamine response from it or something.
please don't delete this please please I'm only practising my freedom of speech
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Lendianism, or Sigmundic Canonism
in Culture and History
Posted
A man of great faith keels over in the most strange of manners, screaming, “The fogs disapparate, the winds agone — an age of Gods and miracles has once again been forsworn!
LEAVE! BUT WEEP! FOR AS OLDEN PROPHECIES HAVE SPOKEN, THE DEAD MEN WILL MOURN!”
falling shortly thereafter into a madness of the highest order.