♠ hated by @downcastDaylight
No it is not, Ms. Dracon.
Justifiably, very few of you care about him. And so very few of you actually take threats seriously, for also somewhat justifiable reasons. Hardly a big gamble I was taking, there.
@THEMANINTHECAIROOVERCOAT I HATE YOu I HATE YOu I HATE YOu I HATE YOu YOu WORTHLESS FuCKING WASTE OF SPACE. YOu AREN’T EVEN INTIMIDATING. EVERYONE LAuGHS AT YOu BECAuSE YOuR BRAIN IS BAD. AND STuPID. KILL YOuRSELF. KILL YOuRSELF. KILL YOuRSELF. KILL YOuRSELF. KILL YOuRSELF. KILL YOuRSELF. KILL YOuRSELF. KILL YOuRSELF. KILL YOuRSELF. KILL YOuRSELF. KILL YOuRSELF. tumut tumut tumut tumut tumut tumut tumut tumut tumut tumut tumut
TCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
C★n I be honest for ★ second? Come cle★n ★bout something. I w★s tot★lly destroying sp★ce to do th★t newton's cr★dle thing e★rlier.
@downc★stD★ylight ye★h see I don't think it's me★nt to be doing this. [★ video is uplo★ded of ★ Newton's Cr★dle. Sylink picks up one of the b★lls, pulls it b★ck, ★nd rele★ses. Upon cont★ct with the other four b★lls two swing up, then swing b★ck pushing three b★lls b★ck in turn. This continues, with ★ seemingly r★ndom ★mmount of b★lls being swung on ★ny given strike.]
Well now. Maybe Chittr can’t, but… Just kidding. Unless…?
Well...alright. It would probably be enrichment for you, my little Gamer.
Writes something down.
Writing things in my notepad btw.
Oh! My notes.
Replaces you with AI.
I think even if you stretch to "type of person I keep in my inner circle," Dean doesn't even amount to "serial killer" Dean is more special than that.
DiamOnds D r. oog!
THE TIME PARADOX HAS BEEN SOLVED, THANK YOU TO THOSE SOULS DISPLACED. WE HOPE YOU MADE IT HOME SAFE. #OUTGLUTMASQUERADE.
CORRECT NO·MATTER·VHAT·YOV·ARE·STINKY·AND·SLIMY·LIKE·A·SQVALID·QVAGMIRE·IN·THE·FOREST·OF·FOIDS I·HAVE·VSED·MY·EXPERT·INTVITION·TO·“DECIDE”·THIS·IS·FACT OR·RATHER·I·AM·IVST·ACKNOVLEDGING·THE·REALITY·OF·THE·SITVATION YOVR·DELVSIONS·OF·GRANDEVR·VILL·NOT·FOOL·ME
Hm.
200k kull/t special business wear Casper, tell your friends.
She kni on my ght til I mind or whatever
let's fucking goooooo. NYC represent!
I'm not opening my mouth here.
It's just... part of my Mind Games
BRUT⛧L█ZE M⛧R█ PE⛧PLE, H⛧V█ M⛧R█ H⛧T█, B█ CL⛧SER T⛧ PERFECT█⛧N.
Ho ho ho :(
Hate Casper for shifting into... The Santa Zone.
Well fill me with milk and call me Santa
Oh i didnt even realize we were talking about white boys, i was watching my movie and had to post that. What a coincidence!
We are all watching Lord English get turned down by our favorite white boy.
YET !!
Https://i.ibb.co/fbsx4ynr/frd-bxcka-aaaa3-rs.jpg
The great Dean in the sky.......
Detective, more like, defective.
[BOSS REGENERATION STATUS: 96% 97% 98%]
yeah, kinda why i did it here instead of a dm. hehehe.
.....
[ENTRY 12531] [HM. THAT WAS THE MOST VILE, DISGUSTING, ABHORRENT THING I’VE EVER DONE WITH ANOTHER BEING. I LIKED IT. I CAN STILL TASTE HIM. …NEXT TIME, PERHAPS WE COULD [EXPUNGED BY SECONDARY ADMIN] WHILE [EXPUNGED BY SECONDARY ADMIN], [EXPUNGED BY SECONDARY ADMIN]. AT THE SAME TIME.]
Auky easo gol eisv jora?
[ENTRY 1423] [I WONDER IF HE’D WEAR WIGS.]
Speaking of radiation, I do need to continue irradiating collected cells of a dead cherub.
His goon cave
I think we should give Casper a gun
(¬‿¬ ) Cock is ticking.... ♫
Oh... (#cw-horror (just to be safe)) https://youtu.be/W9inAzXxLQQ
Throws you around telepathically again.
I’ll do you the courtesy of giving you an advance notice if anything, shall we say, intimate is to appear.
Do you think he'll play a ukulele?
Wait until you catch up on the bullshit
can say for certain i am not a fan of blue eyes close them peepers. scary looking as hell.
[The manor is filled with a fierce, burning roaring. Something animalistic and hateful, like a demon. Well, no, not like. It is a demon. Lord English burst through the walls of the manors, smashing through them at top speeds to reach his destination. Infuriated by being, essentially, child locked. The flashing light flared off him like blinding fire as he rapidly approached his destination. And his puppet prey. The wall of his final destination burst apart into dust and rubble, looking for all the world like a bomb had gone off. A puppet was there to meet him, standing serenely in the center of the room with his hands behind his back. **”PUUUUUUUUUUUPPETTTTTTTTTTTT!”** “Ah, there you are, my lord. Right on time. Jujubes?” With a zap, Scratch was next to the furious and heaving lord, paying no attention to his devastating aura and the crackling green energy dancing across his body, holding up a bowl of candy. Instead of thanks or at the very least a silent partaking of the treats offered, he was met with a massive claw slashing out to strike at him. Unfortunately for Lord English, there was no impact as his host teleported out of the way. “Exactly as expected, of course. Still, it would have been impolite not to offer. Especially to *such* an important guest as you, my lord.” “YOU ARROGANT LITTLE FUCKWAD. YOU HAVE FAILED ME, YOU HAVE *DISAPPOINTED* ME, LIKE THE BROKEN LITTLE PUPPET YOU ARE. BUT NOW YOU *DEFY* ME?! INTERFERE WITH *MY* PROPERTY?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!” The question was, for all intents and purposes, rhetorical, as the moment after he said it the lord’s jaw split open, unleashing a wide wave of destructive energy that tore apart the room in mere moments. Everything was naught but ash. “Because I have finally realized, my lord, that I am better than you in nearly every way.” Everything but Scratch, who was safely behind his own attacker with a gun aimed straight at him. A gun which went off the moment English turned to face him, striking him square in his shoulder. “For instance, my omniscience is far less than it should be as of late, as you have reminded me incessantly. And yet, even with that combined with your ability to selectively hide from it, I am able to use all the information available to me to correctly determine the exact moment that you are most open for a shot.” Once again Scratch found himself teleporting away after his speech, zapping down the hallway as his lord chased him, snarling and roaring with rage as he gripped his bleeding shoulder. “Also, you are very bad at using your powers to your full potential.” “ARROGANT, BROKEN WHELP-“ “And that is another thing. I’ve contemplated it, and I am beginning to wonder if I’m not nearly so broken as you and I both believe. Or believed, in my case. After all, though many of my plans failed, or petered off, they still quite often had effects. You’ve spoken a good deal, yes, but it is arguable that you have failed when it comes to enacting major events in the same way I have.” Mid charge, Lord English changed tactics, teleporting behind Scratch in the hallway as his last teleport stopped and pouncing on him- but the doctor was too quick for him still, and the Lord found his claws connecting with the floor. Scratch stopped, teleporting next to his Lord and shoving his orb right into his face, projecting a spade. “…and I notice, I don’t recall any of *your* plans ever bringing your sister right to your home.” Time seemed to stop for a moment under the sheer force of the Lord’s rage- seemed to, in this stance, being a phrase meaning that it did in fact stop. Long enough for English to wrap his claws around the puppet and drag him into the air. “Ah, there we are, my lord! Finally, using your powers to your full-“ That sentence went unfinished as Scratch was thrown full speed through a wall. And proceeded to crash through another, and another, and another, until finally his flight was stopped as three time clones of Lord English appeared around him in a circle, mid air, slamming him done with their scepters and sending him crashing down through several floors of the manor. His final descent left a crater, his clothes torn to reveal the puppet body beneath. His cueball was covered with scorch marks. Lord English descended after him, looking significantly less damaged beyond a slowly healing shoulder wound. His fanged maw drooled like a feral, rabid animal. Once again he brought Scratch into the air. “YOU ARE DONE. YOU HAVE LOST ALL USE TO ME, YOU STUPID LITTLE FUCKER.” The flashing pool eyes stared him down, blinding light building up in his throat. He brought up his wayward host close to his face… “Ah, well. If I am to die ahead of schedule, I’ve really no use to care about the sanctity of the timeline, do I?” Scratch, calmly, pulled out his gun once again, and aimed it right between Lord English’s eyes. The eyes that, in response to the threat, locked in to piercing black eight balls. “…YOU’RE BLUFFING.” “I prepared two bullets. One for a warning shot, one for if you choose poorly.” “YOU *WOULDN’T*.” Scratch didn’t answer. “…YOU *WOULD*.” “I’m extremely pleased that you understand that. Put me down, if you would please.” Reluctantly, and after snarling for a bit, English did so. Scratch remained absolutely calm, adjusting his bow tie, which had miraculously survived the assault. “Very good. Now, here is the new arrangement.” “I have no intention of letting my lifetime of work go to waste. I will continue to move events in our primary timeline into the direction required, and I will continue to serve your requests as I do so.” Another snarl in response. “…*however*, I will take no further abuse from you. You will no longer call me broken, or defective. And you will finally start to use my damn name. And if your requests are stupid, fruitless, or simply too petty for me to deal with, well, I reserve the right to refuse them.” “WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU COULD *EVER* HAVE THAT RIGHT, YOU WRETCHED LITTLE MAN?” “The fact I held a gun to your face, capable of killing you, with full intent to use it.” Lord English did not respond to that. “I don’t believe I actually have the power to directly stop you from such efforts as hunting down the Snowmen- I leave that to others. But I’m not going to waste the rest of my allotted time on worthless errands. And related to that- whatever personal agendas I choose to embark on, I will have no interference from you. Now, then. Are we in accord? Keep in mind I know exactly when to fire my weapon if you choose to attack again now, and where to aim for maximum lethality.” The two of the, stared at each other, just for a moment. Scratch was characteristically expressionless. Lord English was characteristically snarling, angry, glaring down at his servant and fighting off the urge to lunge and rend him to pieces. Unable to believe just what he was hearing, here. There was something like respect in that glare, too. “…DO WHAT YOU WANT, I DON’T CARE ANYMORE.” “Excellent. In that case, my lord…” Scratch gave a deep, theatrical bow. “…I remain your obedient servant.” English snorted, zapping away somewhere else in the manner, leaving Scratch alone in the rubble and debris. “…I’ll be needing a new suit, then.”]
I'm sorry for saying "Deanglish Truther"
Happy 8/8.
cat φΣψκηε.txt tηεn maψ ψou rεΣt in mεdioκritψ, dεan.
I am the gal who never lies, by the way.
Perhaps even, crimessss plural?
Oh, but doesn’t he LIKE it to be seen? Heehee.
You could! But WILL you, darling?
A certain humanized member of a certain crew and a certain lord of time.
Ooh, did that one strike a nerve?
You know, I have seen odder pairings.
Don't they know that hissing around these parts is horny noises? #suggestive
i'm not, but i could be!
Nah,
It must be sad to be so down bad that a simple affirmation gets you acting the fool. #vagueposting
GOOD BOY.
Well, the appeal of “macro,” as I understand it, has very little to do with mere largeness. That is usually where the uniniti8ted make their first mistake. They imagine the fantasy 8egins and ends with some8ody 8eing huge, as though scale alone were sufficient. It is not. Scale is only the most o8vious instrument. The real su8ject is importance. To 8e small in relation to another 8eing is not necessarily to 8e diminished. In fact, quite the opposite may 8e true! One may 8ecome the single, fragile point upon which an impossi8ly vast attention has settled. A hand the size of a room. A voice that seems to occupy the air itself. A shadow that changes the weather of the heart. These things are frightening, yes, 8ut they are also intimate in a way ordinary courtship struggles to replic8. There is a strange comfort in it, provided the enormous party is careful. That is the crucial detail, you see. Care. Restraint. Deli8er8ness. A giant who simply crushes things is not especially interesting. That is only a disaster with a face. 8ut a giant who could crush you, and does not? A giant who moves slowly 8ecause you are there? Who lowers their voice 8ecause your whole 8ody feels it? Who must consider your safety with every gesture? That is where the fantasy 8ecomes romantic, even devotional. It says: you are tiny, yes. 8ut not irrelevant. It says: this creature is vast enough to treat cities as furniture, yet careful enough to notice whether you are afraid. And I suppose, if we are 8eing honest, there is also a certain vanity in 8eing the treasured little exception. The one not overlooked. The one not stepped over. The one lifted out of the ordinary world and held close to something monumental. Macro is not merely a fantasy of 8eing dwarfed. It is a fantasy of 8eing made precious 8y comparison. Not that I would know anything a8out that. The inverse of this 8eing micro, of course, has many of the opposite principals with similar goals. #cw-macro #cw-size-difference #cw-power-im8alance #cw-nonexplicit-kink-discussion #consensual-fantasy #nsfw #nsfwe #possi8ly
I'm sorr"E", I didn't quite understand that command. Please r"E"phrase. If you n"E"d to contact customer support, f"E"l fr"E" to do so through our DMs. Our Social M"E"dia manager will help you out shortl"E"!
And three eggs!
Wanted to see what would happen first, you checking your phone, or you using your eyes.
He'll never know that I'm stealing out of his fridge.
Truly. There was coffee /everywhere/ when I did that. Then it all solidified into a goop at the bottom of the mug.
I know that you don't think bigfoot is real and also Cain.
Alright! @downcastDaylight I've been given permission to menace you from the shadows that which i do not belong to!
terrible s/)rry f/)r expressing the c/)mpletely c/)mm/)n take that y/)u have. it’s s/) awes/)me that y/)u feel that
Barring temporal anomalies resulting from this method of communications, finalists to join The Table should be announced tonight.
thanks mom
Gameplay Tip: Good teams promote good skill. Bad teams promote no skill. Make sure before starting the game to select and establish a team you can trust. Otherwise, for the better of the rest of Paradox Space, the session will fail, and with it, be Scratched to a better permutation.
Felt among us night went great by the way :)
and so i asked the lord, "Father, Thou commandeth all of time, all of fate. For what reason, then, must we endure this suffering?" And the lord said unto me, "Six Sevennnnn" and he hit a home run
They killed that guy! #supervagueposting
ⓘ DID YOU KNOW? Players who are destined to be Seers are predisposed to have visions long before their session even starts! [This information is not meant to be a professional diagnosis. Always seek proper medical attention for information regarding possible symptoms of hallucinations.] © SBURB 2009
That's what was missing from the Navidson Record. They needed to try to fuck the (imagine this is blue) house. #dashwatching #nsfw
TRUTH NUKE. I DESERVE HATE. MONEY. NOOK. AND BULGE.
xXx (( driving in m3h car, right aftur a b33r )) xXx
Isn't this a warning already? :3
OWWWW-UH!
You can make a joke about it but your hate react says a billion and one things
bext
Ah I see I know what I must do since I got here already Stabs everyone on this fucking dashboard and calls it a day.
Its hard t0 be s0 universally l0ved and desired
G00d evening my fuckfull pe0ns