general purpose freeform nonserious RP thread

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• Hexartes

  2014-03-10 06:44:39

  *mysteriously teleports in*

  
  

  *leaves immediately*
• Tachyon

  2014-03-10 06:45:44

  ^{i will watch the heck outta this pumpkin patch}
  

  *looks up, startled*
  
• Yarrun XIX

  2014-03-10 09:23:28

  Whores! we want "poems that kill."
  Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
  guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
  and take their weapons leaving them dead

  *there is a knock at the door. Light and apprehensive, like the gnawing of a rat*
• Tachyon

  2014-03-10 10:20:19

  ^{i will watch the heck outta this pumpkin patch}
  

  A visitor!  State your name and business, visitor.
  
• Yarrun XIX

  2014-03-10 10:40:23

  Whores! we want "poems that kill."
  Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
  guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
  and take their weapons leaving them dead

  Mr. Grout-Patel, Gapadma Ventures. Do let me in.
• Tachyon

  2014-03-10 10:44:55

  ^{i will watch the heck outta this pumpkin patch}
  

  Never heard of you!
  
  Why should I let you in?
  
• Yarrun XIX

  2014-03-10 10:52:39

  Whores! we want "poems that kill."
  Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
  guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
  and take their weapons leaving them dead

  Because Gapadma Ventures is approximately eighteen point twenty four kilometers from this dwelling, and it is the manner of honest men to host weary travelers.
• Tachyon

  2014-03-10 11:10:14 edited 2014-03-10 11:12:00

  ^{i will watch the heck outta this pumpkin patch}
  

  Oh, a traveller!  Why didn't you say so?  Enter, traveller.
  
  The door swings open, seemingly of its own accord, revealing a clean, if slightly untidy looking room with stone walls.  A large, wooden bookshelf stands against the wall immediately opposite the front door.  In the centre of the room there is a low, wooden table, around which are six small wooden chairs.  The table is covered with plates containing all kinds of delicious-looking food, from succulent meat to ripe and juicy fruits to the most gorgeous cakes you have laid eyes upon.  However, the table is set only for one.  There is nobody in the room.
  
• Yarrun XIX

  2014-03-10 11:13:57

  Whores! we want "poems that kill."
  Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
  guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
  and take their weapons leaving them dead

  Mr. Grout-Patel, with the caution and wariness of a horse in a cubicle, walked inside the room. He was a tall man, Lincolnian in his stature, so he chose against picking a seat.
• Vriska

  2014-03-10 17:09:12

  8luh 8luh.

  A spider spins a we8 in one corner of the room. She is aware of the presence of the others, 8ut holds no interest in their convers8ion.
  
• glennmagusharvey

  2014-03-10 18:09:03

  ~hammers a Dr. Wily sign on a wall~
  
• Tanya

  2014-03-10 19:12:41

  Pizza Dog

  ~Shouts at the house~
  
  "Thy time is near, soon the Lord of the lightless realms shall undo our world so that he may build anew, repent of your deity and worship Fluegood so that you too may be remade on the new world"
  
  ....
  
  "I have pamphlets.
• Imipolex G

  2014-03-10 21:58:07 edited 2014-03-10 21:58:22

  Touch the cow. Do it now.
  

  a cow girl, weary from traveling all day, rests her copious form on a tuft of grass outside, removes from some unknown location a copy of the complete stories of Jorge Luis Borges, and begins to read
  
• Tachyon

  2014-03-11 03:55:27

  ^{i will watch the heck outta this pumpkin patch}
  

  *enters the room, casually tearing the Dr. Wily sign from the wall*
  
  Greetings, traveller.  Please, sit down.  Let me take your coat.
  
  And who are you, sign-hanger?  I don't remember inviting you in.
  
• glennmagusharvey

  2014-03-11 03:56:30

  ~teleports out abruptly~
  
• Yarrun XIX

  2014-03-11 04:09:39

  Whores! we want "poems that kill."
  Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
  guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
  and take their weapons leaving them dead

  Mr. Grout-Patel shrugged off his overcoat and handed it to the man.

  
  

  "I think I'd prefer to stand. I'm not feeling quite myself at the moment"
• glennmagusharvey

  2014-03-11 04:20:51

  ~teleports back in, carrying a beach ball~
  
  ~throws beach ball at nearest person~
  
  ~teleports out~
  
• Tachyon

  2014-03-11 04:26:15 edited 2014-03-11 04:28:06

  ^{i will watch the heck outta this pumpkin patch}
  

  *hangs the coat on a wooden hook*
  
  *catches the beachball, hisses*
  
  Whatever suits you, traveller.  Are you cold?  Perhaps you'd prefer to stand by the fire?
  
  *notices the nail that glennmagusharvey hammered into the wall, hisses again, but doesn't make any effort to remove it*
  
• Yarrun XIX

  2014-03-11 04:29:24

  Whores! we want "poems that kill."
  Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
  guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
  and take their weapons leaving them dead

  "...it appears you have a problem with rogue teleporters, my dear host. Perhaps I could be of assistance? One of our sister companies specializes in teleportation locks."
• Tachyon

  2014-03-11 04:45:14

  ^{i will watch the heck outta this pumpkin patch}
  

  Oh, a salesman, are we?
  
  Tell me about these teleportation locks.
  
• Yarrun XIX

  2014-03-11 04:51:18

  Whores! we want "poems that kill."
  Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
  guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
  and take their weapons leaving them dead

  "Well, the locks aren't exactly my specialty. I specialize in extraneous cybernetic limbs and non-lethal personal deterrence equipment. But I could send you a flyer when I get back to base."
• Tachyon

  2014-03-11 04:54:28

  ^{i will watch the heck outta this pumpkin patch}
  

  Please do.
  
  *glances at the nail with distaste, still holding the beach ball*
  
• Vriska

  2014-03-11 10:38:45

  8luh 8luh.

  The spider crawls along the wall, over to the nail, then out to the edge. An astute o8server would notice a thin thread of spider-silk hanging from the edge of the nail and in front of the sign as the spider rappels downward.
  
• Yarrun XIX

  2014-03-11 10:52:53

  Whores! we want "poems that kill."
  Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
  guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
  and take their weapons leaving them dead

  So, I'll need a name and address that I can send the pamphlet to.