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W͇e͇ r͇e͇j͇e͇c͇t͇ t͇h͇e͇ d͇e͇s͇i͇g͇n͇s͇ o͇f͇ t͇h͇e͇ P͇a͇l͇e͇ F͇a͇c͇e͇. A͇ f͇r͇i͇e͇n͇d͇ o͇u͇g͇h͇t͇ n͇o͇t͇ b͇e͇ d͇i͇s͇c͇a͇r͇d͇e͇d͇, e͇v͇e͇n͇ b͇y͇ h͇e͇r͇ o͇w͇n͇ h͇a͇n͇d͇s͇. N͇o͇ m͇a͇t͇t͇e͇r͇ t͇h͇e͇ c͇o͇n͇s͇e͇q͇u͇e͇n͇c͇e͇s͇. O͇u͇r͇ s͇e͇a͇r͇c͇h͇ w͇i͇l͇l͇ b͇e͇ a͇ f͇r͇e͇n͇z͇i͇e͇d͇ o͇n͇e͇. T͇h͇o͇r͇o͇u͇g͇h͇ l͇a͇s͇h͇i͇n͇g͇s͇ a͇c͇r͇o͇s͇s͇ t͇h͇e͇ s͇u͇r͇f͇a͇c͇e͇ o͇f͇ y͇o͇u͇r͇ w͇o͇r͇l͇d͇. I͇n͇t͇o͇ t͇h͇e͇ m͇u͇r͇k͇i͇e͇s͇t͇ d͇e͇p͇t͇h͇s͇, t͇h͇e͇ f͇u͇r͇t͇h͇e͇s͇t͇ r͇a͇v͇i͇n͇e͇s͇, t͇h͇e͇ h͇i͇g͇h͇e͇s͇t͇ m͇o͇u͇n͇t͇a͇i͇n͇t͇o͇p͇s͇, t͇h͇e͇ l͇o͇w͇e͇s͇t͇ t͇r͇e͇n͇c͇h͇e͇s͇, u͇n͇t͇i͇l͇ y͇o͇u͇ a͇r͇e͇ w͇r͇e͇n͇c͇h͇e͇d͇ b͇a͇c͇k͇ a͇n͇d͇ p͇r͇o͇h͇i͇b͇i͇t͇e͇d͇ e͇v͇e͇n͇ y͇o͇u͇r͇ o͇w͇n͇ e͇n͇d͇. W͇e͇ a͇r͇e͇ n͇o͇t͇ p͇r͇e͇p͇a͇r͇e͇d͇ t͇o͇ g͇o͇ w͇i͇t͇h͇o͇u͇t͇. W͇e͇ a͇r͇e͇ n͇o͇t͇ w͇i͇l͇l͇i͇n͇g͇ t͇o͇ a͇b͇s͇t͇a͇i͇n͇. W͇e͇ a͇r͇e͇ n͇o͇t͇ l͇i͇k͇e͇l͇y͇ t͇o͇ w͇i͇t͇h͇d͇r͇a͇w͇. Y͇o͇u͇ w͇i͇l͇l͇ n͇e͇v͇e͇r͇ f͇e͇e͇l͇ e͇m͇p͇t͇y͇ i͇n͇s͇i͇d͇e͇ a͇g͇a͇i͇n͇. Y͇o͇u͇'v͇e͇ g͇o͇t͇ a͇ f͇r͇i͇e͇n͇d͇ i͇n͇s͇i͇d͇e͇. M͇e͇.
BE ME. CALIBORN. THE ONE WHO IS WRITING THIS. NOT THE ONE WHO IS BEING WRITTEN ABOuT. THAT DISTINCTION IS IMPORTANT. BECAuSE I AM REAL. AND CALLIE BHORNE IS FICTIONAL. BuT ALSO. IN A DEEPER SENSE. HE IS REALER THAN YOu. BECAuSE I SAID SO. AND I AM REAL AS IT GETS. DISBELIEF. SuSPENDED. CALLIE BHORNE. CALI B. REAL. THIS IS NOW NOT ABOuT ME. EXCEPT IT IS PRIMARILY ABOuT ME. IN A VICARIOuS SENSE. BuT SECONDARILY. IT IS ABOuT CALLIE BHORNE. MY CHARACTER. THAT I HAVE MADE. FOR THIS EPIC GODDAMN SAGA. CALLED. #LAIRSANDLuSII. WHICH SOuNDS LIKE A DOCTOR SEuSS ASS NuRSERY RHYME. BuT APPARENTLY. IF ITS HOST IS TO BE BELIEVED. IS A HORROR ROLEPLAY SCENARIO. WHICH IS FuNNY. BECAuSE THE ONLY HORROR HERE IS HOW POWERFuL I AM ABOuT TO MAKE THIS MOTHERFuCKER BEFORE YOuR GOBSMACKED GODDAMN GANDERBuLBS. SQuEAKY HANDS SCRuBBING THEM SEE WORTHY AGAIN. A RECAP. INTERMISSION. BEFORE WE BEGIN. LET ME TELL YOu ABOuT CALLIE BHORNE. HE IS A LIME BLOOD. WHICH IS RARE. AND ALSO EXTINCT. EXCEPT FOR HIM. BECAuSE HE KILLED EVERYONE WHO TRIED TO MAKE HIM EXTINCT. WHICH KEPT HIM THE SOLE ENDLING SuRVIVOR OF THE SLAuGHTER. AFTER uSING HIS SPECIAL ABILITY. EMPEROR LORDLING TIME. WHICH LETS HIM CHANNEL HIS DEAD SISTER. CALLIE OHPEEE. WHO HE DEVOuRED AND SCRAMBLED. STRAIGHT OuT THE GATE. POST EGG HATCH. SIPHONING HER POWER. TO INCREASE HIS OWN. EFFICACY. WHICH IS A WORD I uSED BECAuSE IT SOuNDS IMPORTANT. HE IS A PALADIN. OATH OF CONQuEST. WHICH IS LIKE AN ORDINARY PALADIN. BuT INSTEAD OF HEALING AND PROTECTING. HE CONQuERS AND DESTROYS. BECAuSE PROTECTION IS FOR COWARDS. AND HEALING IS FOR THE WEAK AND NEEDY LITTLE SNIVELING FuCKSTuPID COWARDS. FuRTHERMORE. WEAKNESS IS A DISEASE THAT MuST BE STEPPED ON. CRuSHED. AND THEN QuARANTINED TO THE AFTERLIFE. WHERE IT WILL NEVER RETuRN FROM. HE IS CuRRENTLY SITTING. ON THE ALABSTER CAIRO CASINO PHAROAH SARSWAPAGuS THRONE. WHICH IS A SACRED LIME BLOOD ARTIFACT. THAT ALLOWS THEM TO COMMuNE WITH THEIR DEAD SISTERS. IF THEY HAVE ANY. WHICH HE DOES. BECAuSE HE KILLED HER. YOu ALL SAW. I WROTE THAT. AND YOu SAW. STuDIOuS LITTLE NOTETAKERS THAT YOu NO DOuBT ARE. YOu CAN SEE IT HERE NOW WITHOuT HAVING TO LOOK AWAY FROM MY WORDS IF YOu HAVE FORGOTTEN. AND NOW SHE IS HAuNTING HIM. WHICH IS QuITE POETIC. EXEuNT INTERMISSION. BEGIN. ACT NONE. SESSION ZERO. THE THRONE IS GLOWING. A MYSTERIOuS WIND HOWLS. THE WINDOWLESS ROOM CuRIOuSLY CRADLES THE AIR IN A SuRREPTIOuS BREEZE THAT COMES FROM SEEMINGLY FuCKING NOWHERE. THAT IS BECAuSE THE THRONE ITSELF. HAS BECOME LINKED TO A FAR AND STRANGE LAND. uNFAMILIAR ENTIRELY TO CALLIE BHORNE. HE DOES NOT KNOW IT YET. MERELY REACTS ON INFLuENCE. HIS FAuLTY PASSIVE PERCEPTION WEATHERED BY HIS YEARS AS MuSCLE FOR HIRE. HE FEELS A TWITCHY SPASM IN HIS WRIST. HIS INSTINCTS COMMAND HIM TO DRAW HIS SWORD. BuT HE REFuSES. HE KNOWS BETTER THAN TO RESORT TO WANTON AGGRESSION WITHOuT A TARGET. THE THINKPAN WILL OVERHEAT. SENDING SCORCHING THOuGHTS EVERYWHERE THAT BLINDINGLY ERASE ALL MOVEMENT uNTIL A SAFE DISTANCE IS OBSERVED FROM ALL LIVING THINGS. CALLIE BHORNE WOuLD MAKE CORPSES OF PARADISE FOR THE ELYSIuM FIELDS OF HIS OWN ISOLATION MADE PuRE AND PRISTINE ONCE AGAIN. THIS IS HIS DREADED CuRSE. TO WALK A PLANET HE WOuLD SOONER RAIZE THAN RAISE. HE CANNOT BE KNOWN TO LOVE. HE CANNOT RISK FEELING. AND HE CANNOT CHANCE A SINGLE LIVING BEING. EVER. AND YET. THERE IS THAT HOWLING. THAT WIND. THAT DAMNABLE FuCKING WIND. "TSK." CALLIE BHORNE GROWLS. ANOTHER FuCKING REPAIR NEEDED. NOBODY EVER TOLD HIM BEING A LIVING RELIC MEANT LIVING IN ONE. BYGONE ERAS HAVE A FuNNY WAY OF STICKING AROuND. CALLIE BHORNE TAKES THIS AS EVIDENCE. THAT CALLIE OHPEEE IS FuCKING WITH HIM. WHICH IS FuNNY. BECAuSE SHE PROBABLY DID NOT ACTuALLY DO THAT. BECAuSE SHE HATES HIM TO SCREW WITH HIM IN A CLEVER WAY. BECAuSE HE DEVOuRED HER. BuT THE FASTEST WAY. TO A GRIZZLED VETERAN'S HEART. IS THROuGH HIS STOMACH. A PLACE THAT CALLIE OHPEEE HAS BEEN. QuITE FATALLY. SHE LOVES HIM. EVEN IF HE WILL NOT SAY. WHICH IS WHY. uPON DISCOVERY THE THRONE ITSELF OPENS TO A TRANSPORTALIZED DIMENSION. ANOTHER WORLD. OR PLACE. OR LAND. OR BIOME. THE BLINDING LIGHT MAKES IT TRuLY DIFFICuLT TO TELL. HE REALIZES THE TRuTH. "NO FuCKING WAY." CALLIE OHPEEE HAS BLESSED THIS CRuSADE. HER FACE APPEARS FOR A BRIEF MOMENT. SHE LOOKS. STRANGE. uGLY. SHE ASSuMES ANOTHER OF HER FORMS MEANT TO TORMENT HIM. A GREEN SKuLL. STAINED WITH THE SLICK LIME BLOOD SHE WAS COATED IN WHEN HE FIRST DEVOuRED HER. HIS MOuTH WATERS. HE HAS NEVER FOuND A GRuBSAuCE SO DELECTABLE AS HIS FIRST MEAL. HE LITERALLY ATE THE EGGSHELL SHE HATCHED OuT OF. FOR ADDITIONAL NuTRIENTS. THAT SAuCE WAS SO FuCKING GOOD. ONLY NOW. AT LEAST IN APPEARANCE. THE BLOOD WAS BAD. VERY VERY BAD. LEFT TO COAGuLATE. ROT. ADHERE. AND THICKEN. LIKE A KIND OF ALMOST REPTILIAN HIDE. IF HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY WERE HIS LuSuS. WHAT WAS THIS? A HATCHMATE OVERREACH OF SOME KIND? SISTERLY SOBBING? BITCHING AND MOANING? uPON CLOSER INSPECTION. THE ANSWER BECAME MuCH CLEARER. LITTLE PINPRICK DRIPS OF RED. FRISKING ALONG HIS BODY. CALIBORN FINDS IT. A FRESHLY INFLICTED WOuND THAT WAS NOT THERE BEFORE. JuST ALONG HIS THORAX. THE uPPER CHIFFONIER. AS IF ANGLING FOR HIS BLOODPuSHER WITH EACH DARTED FINGER. HER WAY OF SAYING. THIS QuEST COuLD PROVE DEADLY. ALTHOuGH. CALLIE BHORNE WAS uNSuRE. EVEN CALIBORN WAS LIKE. GIRL WHAT THE FuCK IS YOu ON. THERE COuLD BE NO CERTAINTIES WHEN DEALING WITH HER. "HEH. GuESS MY HATCHMATE IS STILL LOOKING OuT FOR ME AFTER ALL THESE SWEEPS. SOME LOVE. HuH? SHE'S GOT A FuNNY WAY OF SHOWING IT." AND THEN. uNFuRLED. IS MY BLADE. READY TO BE BuRIED IN THE NECKS OF DuMBFuCKS. LOCATION: THE TRIBuNAL HALL OF SuPREME CAVORT. STOMPING GROuNDS OF HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY. EATING GROuNDS ALSO. THIS IS WHERE CALLIE BHORNE LIVES. BECAuSE HE IS SPECIAL. AND RAISED BY A BELOATHED BY ALL TYRANT. THE ROOM HAS COuNTLESS WEATHERED BONES SHAVED DOWN SO AS TO RESEMBLE MARBLE COLuMNS. BuT THEY ARE THICK. LIKE CEDAR WOOD TRuNKS. AND SPLINTERED. SO AS TO SuGGEST THE BEATING OF ANGRY FISTS. CLAWED AND CHEWED. SO AS TO SuGGEST THE CLuTCHING OF VERY DESPERATE HANDS DRAGGED OFF INTO OPEN MOuTH. AND BLOOD. SO MuCH BLOOD. THE THRONE ITSELF. HOWEVER. IS CLEAN. AN EXHIBIT ALMOST. EVIDENCE. OF TIME'S TRAGIC PASSING. A RELIC OF THE LIMES. LIKE MANY OF THE CONFISCATED LEGENDARY ITEMS HERE. THOuGH CALLIE BHORNE FANCIES HIMSELF SOMETHING OF A TROLL WITH AN EYE FOR ANTIQuES SPORTING SEASONED HISTORY BEHIND THEM. THESE ITEMS ARE ONLY ACQuIRED WHEN SOMEONE TRIES TO SMuGGLE OR SELL THE ILLICIT CONTRABAND. IN FACT. WERE IT NOT FOR HIS LuSuS. AND SLAPDASH CHARM. CALLIE WOuLD CERTAINLY BE KILLED FOR HIS EXTENSIVE BEWEARABLE WARES ALONE. OWNING THESE IS ILLEGAL. BuT CONFISCATING THEM. IS JuST ANOTHER TuESDAY. OR WHATEVER THE TROLL EQuIVALENT OF A TuESDAY IS. PROBABLY CHEWSDAY. IT IS JuST ANOTHER CHEWSDAY. INTERRuPTION: HE WAS COMMuNING. WITH HIS DEAD SISTER. OR AT LEAST TRYING TO. HIS HATCHMATE IS OFT uNRELIABLE. WHICH IS A SPECIAL KIND OF ESPECIALLY HIGH uNRELIABILITY. BuT THEN. THE SESSION. OR WHATEVER EXCITING COSMIC BuLLSHIT IS RuNNING THIS GAME. DECIDED TO INTERRuPT. WITH A PORTAL. OR AN APERTuRE. OR WHATEVER WHITE GLOWING BuLLSHIT YOu PEOPLE ARE uSING. I WANT TO KEEP MY WHITENESS CONSISTENT. IF WE ARE ALL DOING A WHITE THING. I WANT TO DO THE SAME WHITE THING. OTHERWISE I WILL FEEL LEFT OuT. AND THAT WOuLD BE REALLY SHITTY OF YOu GuYS. SO MAKE MY WHITE THING BE THE SAME AS YOuR WHITE THING. HOW THE SuMMONS APPEARS: THROuGH THE THRONE. OBVIOuSLY. THE GLOWING INTENSIFIES. AND INSTEAD OF JuST SHOWING CALLIE OHPEEE. WHICH IS WHAT IT uSuALLY SHOWS. IN MIDDLING LITTLE APPARITION LIKE OuTLINES. AND DEAD SISTER MONTAGE. AND LIMITLESS PATIENCE FOR ME. HER HATCHMATE. AND MY SILLY ANTICS. IT SHOWS SOMETHING ELSE. A LAIR. OR WHATEVER. MAKE IT SOMETHING APPROPRIATE. ACTuALLY. COuLD IT BE. LIKE. A THRONE ROOM. BuT BIGGER. AND WITH MORE BODIES. OR A FIELD OF CONQuERED ENEMIES. OR A CASINO. WHERE EVERYONE IS LOSING. EXCEPT HIM. CALLIE NEVER LOSES. EH. DOC. SCRATCH THAT. CALLIE NEVER HAS LOST. BECAuSE HE REFuSES TO GIVE uP. HE ALWAYS TRIES. AND RETRIES. EVEN IN THE FACE OF ABSOLuTE SuREFIRE DEFEAT. HE WRENCHES VICTORY FROM HIS OWN JAWS. THAT IS WHAT I MEANT TO SAY OF HIM. YES. SO DECIDE. A VISION THAT CALLS FOR HIM. PERHAPS. SOMEONE IN NEED? YES. THAT WOuLD BE GENIuS. CALLIE IS EXTRAORDINARILY NEEDABLE. AND WILLING TO MAKE HIS TROLLIAN CLAWS. AN OuTSTRETCHED SORT. WHAT YOu GLIMPSE: SOMETHING THAT REPRESENTS POWER. AND DOMINATION. AND VICTORY. BuT ALSO. SECRETLY. SOMETHING THAT REPRESENTS HIS SISTER. IN SOME ROuNDABOuT WAY. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT FOR HIS CHARACTERIZATION. HOW YOuR LuSuS OR SuRROuNDINGS REACT: HIS LuSuS HOWLS WITH EARSPLITTING INTENSITY. HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY. HuGE GROSS MONSTER. BLACK BLOOD. BRAINLESS BEASTIE. HE LETS OuT A ROAR. OR SOMETHING EQuALLY TERRIBLE. AND IT DOES NOT REACT WITH FEAR. BECAuSE IT DOES NOT FEEL FEAR. IT REACTS WITH RECOGNITION. LIKE. "OH. MY SON. CALLIE BHORNE. HAS BEEN SuMMONED FOR ANOTHER ADVENTuRE. HOW REGuLAR. AND ORDINARY. BE SuRE TO KILL AND PARTIALLY CANNIBALIZE PLENTY OF PEOPLE. MY SWEET. CHERuBICALLY CHARMING BOY." AND CALLIE BRuSHES HIS THuMB. AGAINST HIS VERY EXISTANT NOSE. AND GOES. "TSK. SHuT uP FATHER. I AM GROWN NOW. I AM NOT SOME HELPLESS LITTLE PuPA ANYMORE." AND HE GROWLS. SOMBERLY. "I KNOW. BuT WHEN I LOOK uPON MY SON. MY HERO. MY LITTLE LEGISLACERITO. I DO NOT SEE YOu AS YOu ARE. I SEE YOu. AS WHAT YOu HAVE BECOME. FROM WHAT YOu WERE. A WEIGHTED AVERAGE. SuNDERED BY MY SINKING HEART." AND HE GOES. "HMP. WHATEVER DAD. LOVEYOuTOO." AND HIS DAD SCREECHES LOuDLY. "MY SON!!!" OR MAYBE IT DOES NOT SAY ANYTHING. AND JuST. GROWLS. APPROVINGLY. WHATEVER WOuLD BE COOLER. WHAT PART OF YOu ANSWERS FIRST: NOT FEAR. HE DOES NOT FEEL FEAR. JuST LIKE HIS FATHER. HE FEELS ANTICIPATION. THE PART THAT WANTS TO CONQuER. THE PART THAT WANTS TO DEVOuR. THE PART THAT LOOKS AT A MYSTERIOuS PORTAL AND THINKS. "YES. MORE uNSETTLED SCORES. AND WRONGS TO RIGHT." OR POSSIBLY. THE PART THAT HEARS HIS SISTER. WHISPERING. FROM THE THRONE. SAYING. "DONT GO. YOu IDIOT. ITS A TRAP. A DEADLY FuCKING TRAP." BuT HE IGNORES HER. BECAuSE HE IS THE PALADIN. NOT THE PALADIN'T. YOuR FINAL ACTION: CALLIE. DOES NOT. uNDER ANY CIRCuMSTANCES. SHOW HESITATION. HESITATION IS FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE NOT CALLIE BHORNE. AND THEREFORE. NOT ME. BECAuSE I MADE HIM. AND I AM ALSO NEVER HESITANT. EXCEPT WHEN I AM. WHICH IS NEVER. ALTHOuGH. THERE WAS THAT ONE TIME. BuT I WAS MERELY. READYING AN ATTACK. AN ASSBLAST ATTACK THAT PROVED FATAL. FOR MY ENEMIES. SO IT IS LESS A HESITATION. AND MORE A READYING POSE. WHICH IS WHAT HE STRIKES. BEFORE SAYING SOMETHING REALLY FuCKING COOL. LIKE. "...WELL WELL WELL. IS THIS THE PART. WHERE I TOSS IN A QuARTER AND MAKE A WISH?" OR. "THE THRONE BECKONS. QuIT YOuR BITCHING. I'M LITERALLY COMING RIGHT NOW." OR. "CALLIE OHPEEE. WATCH OVER FATHER FOR ME WHILE I AM GONE. OKAY?" OR JuST. "...CONQuEST CALLS." WHATEVER HE SAYS. PROBABLY ALL OF THESE THINGS. HE IS NOT NICE. HE IS GRIZZLED AND EDGY. HE ATE HIS SISTER AND REGRETS NOTHING EXCEPT THAT HE COuLD NOT EAT HER TWICE. HE IS A MONSTER. AND HE IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER. BECAuSE HE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO uNDERSTANDS ME.
『ADVENTERROR'S FIELD GUIDE - PORTED FROM SWATTPAD @tautologicalTechnique 』 『 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: DUBCON PALE, CRINGE CULTURE, META FICTION, SELF INSERT, PLATONIC PALING, GAMING ADJACENT, AUTHORIAL INSERT, SPECIES BENDING, SECOND PERSON PERSPECTIVE, YCH, Y/C, UNREALITY, TOUCHING, SPORADIC PALE RUBBING, PALE AFFECTION, POLYQUANDARY (CONSENTED), GYGAAX X EVERYONE, YES THAT EVEN MEANS Y/C』 GYGAAX x KRYQUS // PALESHIPPING // FRIENDFICTION // CAVERNS 'N CULLBEASTS CAMPAIGN // SFW // MOIRAIL MULTICLASS // BOUND BY THE BOUND BOOK // @naughtyTechnician // @zebraDad ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ☆ ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < AUTHOR'S NOTE...mmffmm. Sorry for the delay this chapter!!! One of my moirails of four sweeps got caught up in a particularly nasty encounter with a Cullbeast of Unreasonable Hit Dice! Oh noooo!!! Somebody's gonna be out of combat fer more than one short rest!!! But...onto the fic!!! ( Ꮚ❖ꈊ❖Ꮚ); < The Caverns 'n Cullbeasts session shoulda wrapped hours ago...what in tarnation were the lot of 'em still doin' here...? These two ain't had grounds t'yammer 'n yap beyond stats 'n th'doling out 'o treasures accumulated...'n that took place hours ago!!! It took only a scant few moments more fer it t'really click with KRYQUS what this was even about...'n the thought still got dismissed with chudly indifference. Sensation overrode sensibility somethin' sorely suggestive...somethin' deeper...somethin'... ᴗ(ᴗᏊᄒꈊᄒᏊ) < Pale. ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < KRYQUS's trembling hands passed over the character sheet in metered measures...examining for errors, miscalculations, even just a rounding error in carry weight that could set his party back some...He was always like this. Thinkin' 'o others in tiny, invisible ways that made 'm irresistible to anyone with eyes 'n the time t'use 'em. Y/C can't help but buckle back a little as KRYQUS suddenly seizes Y/C's pencil 'n tugs it forward tighter than a nat twenty on an athletics check that he'd piledrive into th'enemy's inferior armor class...the clamp continued, as he started to...sink to ganderglobe level. The EMINENT INDIGOD OF INDIGOCELS who once towered like a one troll rovin' rules lawyer on hoofback now ain't no more than a troll, his imposing sourcebooks gone from a monument to a frame. ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < my character died ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < damn ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < toooo bad the same cannoot be said of climate change or casteism or peoople who talk shit and doont get hit ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < oor any oof the woorlds oother many wooes ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < but i can oonly doo ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < soo much ✧( Ꮚ─_ ─Ꮚ) < as a fat fuckin chud of hooned discipline ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < eventually ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < woorlds gootta save itself ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < oor perish unwoorthy ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < KRYQUS becomes a livin' study in humility. His words underpin the lessons endowed to him by ZEBRADAD. A lodestar. A northern light. The honing beacon 'o morality and th'straight 'n narrow. But his actions. His nonchalance. His utter unquestionably sheer un-fuck-withable energy...this becomes the mantle 'o kingly might he assumes at all times. This becomes th'monarchic tradition passed down from KRYQUS to KRYQUS every few hundred sweeps, so long as he's still around. ( Ꮚ❖ꈊ❖Ꮚ); <> <> <> <> JUST LIKE Y/C wouldn't all that mind bein'!!!!! EH? EH? EH? #FOREVERANDEVER #BUTACTUALLY #YCxKRYQUS #YOU+GOT+ZEBRADADS+BLESSING (ᗜᏊಠꈊಠᏊ)¤=[]:::::> Y/C felt inclined t'dispense comfort. There was a possessiveness t'the way Y/C saw KRYQUS cradle the character sheet in his palms. His broad shoulders cinched up like he dreaded th'thought of loosenin' a grip on this concept fer even a moment...but he put on a brave face just fer you. It wouldn't be right t'just let his happiness slip away. And read between the lines a daggum minute, world's gotta save itself or perish unworthy? That's QUITTER TALK! GLOBAL QUITTER TALK! DOOMSDAY QUITTER TALK! Kryqus feels THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD on his bulky sturdy rock steady shoulders right now! ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < Just as Y/C up 'n worked th'courage t'confront his hands, improperly conspirin' t'mount a charge across yer thigh...Kryqus scoffs in indignation. He sees through yer transparent advances...and retreats strategically. All prompt-like. ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < tsk ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < doont attempt to knoow me ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < im way toooo cooool foor yoou ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < and even if i didnt mean that ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < yoou proobably shoouldnt @ me irl ᴗ(ᴗᏊᄒꈊᄒᏊ) < Uh oh! That got outta hand way fast...maybe it's time t'call fer... ( Ꮚ❖ꈊ❖Ꮚ); <> <> <> <> REINFORCEMENTS!!!!!!! ᴗ(ᴗᏊ❖ꈊ❖Ꮚ); <> <> <> <> My -- I mean Gygaax's hands start t'alternate between (#polyquandary anyone???) petting the tops 'o both 'o yer heads...!!! Soft. Rhythmic little circles. My --- Gygaax's cartilage nubs unfurl from the tightly white knuckled meat mallet into a far more approachable set 'o chitinous diggers with a piercingly pale quality...!!! Both Y/C and KRYQUS are treated t'the soft enmeshed interplay 'o palmin' play 'n no strings attached emotional intervention...c-consensually! We can stop at any time. Y/C j...just could use this! A-as could KRYQUS. To uh. CAVERNS 'N CULLBEASTS t'gether... ( Ꮚ‾̀ꈊ ‾̀Ꮚ); < "...Now, KRYQUS," Gygaax began, "Ewe can't be so harsh on Y/C...they've been through a lot. For our sake. For the CAMPAIGN. If anything were to happen to them...it would be on us to see to it they're protected and retrieved. Same as any PARTY MEMBER. Gentler hands should stir these waters. A SHEPHURT should tend 'n mend to its flock." If the two hands mussyin' up Y/C's body in tandem with KRYQUS wasn't BAaaaaaaAAAAAAd enough...a rovin' set of author-emblazoned fingertips were caressin' th'top of yer horns now. Pickin' out stray imaginary somethin somethins. Stalling. ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < Suddenly, the rush of hot breath excites the air...populates it with the powerful gale phrasings of KRYQUS... ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < gygaax ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < what the actual fuck ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < are yoou trying to say i proovide subpar care to Y/C ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < i literally carried this campaign ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < coomplaintlessly ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < Y/C with it ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < i resent the fuck oout of that implication ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < i coould easily be gentler with this ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < weaving lazy river ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < if i wanted to ( Ꮚ‾̀ꈊ ‾̀Ꮚ); < GYGAAX laughed. "Ewe could stand to be, KRYQUS. Yes. Just LOOK at Y/C. How can ewe say even a single solitary mean thing about that there cutie patootie?!" Tuggin' yer face into an awaitin' set 'o authorial brasserie, th'royal menagerie incidentally pits ya right in line with a EMINENT INDIGOD OF INDIGOCELS'S dice bag as th'aforementioned storms back onto his feet, now a monolith again. KRYQUS approaches our hug slowly. But not neverly. His arms hover over you. The river is still. Th'air itself thickens and compresses about yer skull, 'n horns, hardly blanketed by th'hoofbeast-scented torso cheekily just behind yonder... ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < what fucking ever ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < here yoou go lil guy ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < lap it up ✧( Ꮚ¬_ ¬Ꮚ) < <> ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < GYGAAX's hands tug around ya like a vanguard against harm. KRYQUS goes back t'bein his usual self...a monument of offended pride...he hugs you. And. Uh oh!!! Y/C feels a scraping sensation...nails possessively curled about one side 'o yer head, just at the barest nuggatory base of the horns (so embarassin'n!!!) and tracin' back towards th'scalp...no matter where ya look...t'KRYQUS or t'GYGAAX...both are complicit!!! A boilin' sort 'o affection wellin' up with intent t'pale, RIGHT ON TOP OF Y/C!!!!! (P1/P??) #SWATTPAD #Vacillation #PaleMoirail #TheWholeParty #FullCampaign #NotEnoughInventorySpace #SFW #YouAreOverencumbered!!! #XReader #FriendFiction #CnC #CavernsAndCullbeasts #KRYQUS #ImpliedAU #GYGAAXxKRYQUS #PALEMULTICLASS #AdventerrorsFieldGuide #CrossPosting #ScrawlThoughts #Drabbles #DubconPale #Polyquandary #TeamChud #GygaaxXEveryone #Palewhoring
#MASTERBAIT THE ONLY TAG. FOR MASTERS OF BAIT. BAITING. AND DEFENSIVE TECHNIQuES. MEANT TO WILE WOMEN. BEGuILE MEN. AND DISTINGuISH THE ALPHA TOP DAWG SELF. FROM EITHER CATEGORY. TODAY WE ARE HERE TO DISCuSS. HORNY. YOu MAY MISTAKENLY BELIEVE YOu ARE GOD’S (MY) GIFT TO THE WORLD. THAT RESPONDING. AS I HAVE MANY uNDERSTANDABLE TIMES IN THE PAST. “FuRIOuSLY JERKED OFF TO THIS”. “CuRRENTLY EDGING. BITCH”. OR “DO NOT STOP. DID I SAY YOu COuLD STOP? I WAS NOT FINISHED.” BuT AS THE ONLY SuCCESSFuL GRADuATE OF THE CALIBORN CHARM SCHOOL OF THOuGHT. FLIRTATION IS MORE NuANCED. THAN CRuDE. BuT OTHERWISE FAIRLY ACCuRATE. WORDS ON A SCREEN. LET YOuR FEELINGS BE TANTALIZING AND SLOW. LIKE A STAB WOuND. CONNECT WITH THE POST. RATHER THAN YOuR SHAMEGLOBES SPECIFICALLY. IS IT. RANDOM EXAMPLE. SISSY HYPNOSIS? THE PROPER ETIQuETTE. WOuLD BE TO STRESS HOW DEMuRE. AND uTTERLY DAZZLED YOu ARE. HOW YOu WISH YOu HAD A SKIRT LENGTH LONG ENOuGH. TO BuRY YOuR FEELINGS AND SHE/HER IN BIOLOGY-RELATED SHAME FOREVER. DO NOT CREATE AN OBLIGATION FOR ANOTHER HORNY SORT. THIS IS OVERLORDING. WHICH MANY FIND uNPLEASANT IF ANYONE BuT ME DOES IT. AND EVEN THEN. INSTEAD. STRESS HOW YOu HAVE AN OBLIGATION. A SHAMEFuL AND WRETCHED OBLIGATION. THAT THE TASTY SIGHTS YOu ARE SEEING. MAKE YOu SALIVATE. OR HIDE YOuR FACE. OR SMASH MANY KEYBOARDS IN SERVICE OF YOuR MESSAGE. I REALIZE MANY OF YOu. MOST OF YOu. AN ALARMING NuMBER OF YOu ACTuALLY. DO NOT. “GET SOME”. BuT HOPEFuLLY WITH THESE TECHNIQuES IN MIND. YOu CAN MAKE uP FOR WHAT YOu LACK IN EXPERIENCE. WITH CALIBORNENuINE CHARISMA. #NSFW #FORCEFEMME #HYPNOSIS #HORNY #ETIQuETTE #SILENCE #A-GRADuATE-OF-THE #CALIBORN-SCHOOL-OF-THOuGHT
((nah it's like an ic thing w him and @bulgeCurator and a few others, it's a fun read if you wanna check back on it
[going ooc just im gen curious] like just because hes zebruh cuz the other accounts getting none of these strikes?
i took the time to read all of thizzz and i have never been more dizzzappointed and confuzzzed in my life
Oh. You kind of suck. Maybe i shouldn't have tied up my moirail.
<I am n0t reading a11 0f this, thank g0g it's n0t f0r me>
I AMM TYP[ING WITH MY TOEZ!!!! BECAUSE TMUY ARMS ARE BOUNDF!!!!!! I WILL KILL YOU ANDS EVERYTINGDS YOU LOVE!!!! @THECODAKKEFFECT#5492
@theCodakkeffect#5492 #nsfwe #cannibalism #hemism #abuse For my matesprit. Lo and behold my shocked expression today when I hopped onto our beloved Chittr dot Ing, only to find that there was a status on this platform openly calling trolls beautiful. I had responded because my low self esteem, and I hadn't noticed who the poster was. I was looking up from my position not at a random splinternet nobody, but Zebruh Codakk himself. My eyes began to quiver and the corners of my mouth twitched into something resembling a smile. I couldn't help but to giggle and shake in my seat as I was openly praised by a Highblood. I had to be sure, and asked him to affirm his feelings of my beauty. Soon after, he openly admitted our quadrant to the world before informing me. My thumper began to skip a beat and I could feel my blood building up towards something of a deep welling of warmth in my stomach. I hadn't felt quite this way since Zoologer Coolscar gave me such a romantic series of advancements in our most recent encounters. I do not believe he understands what this means to a troll like me. I am a monster, a freak, the downtrotten most despised things in society. I am everything that he is not. He is a feminist, he is a gutterblooded ally, and he cares so very deeply for each of us disgusting and repentant trashbloods that he would not only waste his precious time responding to me, but affirming my existence in his life. He doesn't just notice me, or desire me. But he claimed me, publicly. It was as though it was the most natural thing in the entirety of the multiverse for someone of his station to do. To look down on me and decide I was worth keeping. I found myself rereading the post over and over again. Tracing every word with my eyes and my bulge and nook resting in my other hand. Fondling myself while reading his words over and over again until they had lost meaning entirely. I have come across a revelation. I began to rearrange my life around his as a result. I have since purchased his preferred incense. I wonder what side of the recuperacoon he sleeps on. I wonder if he would permit me to wear his colors. I think what affected me most deeply was the confidence of it all. There was nothing like it. Every word he says he means and becomes truth. He is incapable of lying, or misdirecting. His digital imprint is that of gospel and truth for a lowly hemoanon presumably trashblood like myself. He is clearly a romantic. Embarrassing me with his love and praise so readily. The idea that a highblood could simply point at me and say 'Mine' without first asking I could withstand the consequences of that declaration has left me with a fever whose only cure will be his affection. I have since began my research into human ceremonial binding practices such as marriage, devotional scarring, synchronizing our schedules, and finding the burial rites that will allow me to be buried with him like one of his many prize possessions. A troll of his stature should not have to concern himself with the untidy habits of somebody beneath him. I have already begun documenting my routines so that they may be more easily corrected once he inevitably notices their flaws. My sleep schedule is going to be synchronized with his own. My diet adjusted. I need a whole new wardrobe. I have begun clearing shelf space in anticipation of the objects he may leave behind at my hive. I found myself staring at my reflection earlier wondering what parts of me he intends to keep. While, deep within myself, I'd hope he would want all of me, surely his humble and modest nature would force him to consider maybe only taking pieces of me. I think I would let him have my horns first. I don't need them anyway. They are useless prongs to me, they would only serve as handlebars for when he opted to pail my pathetic and lowly mouth with his mighty bulge. The though of such an unbecoming troll like myself in a quadrant with his radiance... I hope he will refine me in time. Improve me. Maybe gently, but I hope not. The thought alone makes my legs give out from beneath me. He can take those next. I would never leave his side anyway. I would have no where to go. His declaration of passion towards me is something that I simply can't let him get away with. He did not ask whether I wished to be his matesprit after all. He insists that I am his, and his alone. He declared it before the world and the world listened. So, I must listen. Always. But never speak. I would sooner give my vocal chords to him than ever raise a negative thought to his continued existence. I would never voice anything for his great indigo presence would be enough to guide my pan where it needs. No thoughts of my own have ever truly existed. His confidence is so beautiful It is the most beautiful thing in the world to me. Even more beautiful than my new signature, Vesica Codakk... Even our wedded name sounds perfect. I hope I make a good impression on him when I meet him. I need to, he can simply have all of me if he just asks, but I want him to want it, not just stake the claim because he has every right to me. I think I've mentioned my preparations already. His arrival is imminent, I am sure. Despite not knowing whether he intends to visit my hive personally. I don't believe this matters anyway. A matesprit should always prepare as though their beloved may arrive at any moment. The three hours I spent on my knees scrubbing the grout between the great stones was akin to a religious experience in dedication to a great messiah above me. I was unworthy of his devotion. I could only imagine the humiliation of him walking into the hive and seeing my disgusting living conditions and silently wondering if I was worthy of him or his love. I threw away clothing that didn't fit his aesthetic. I removed decorations from my walls because I worried they would distract him from me. I researched his entire account, from top to bottom, tail to tip, to find what scents he might like. I had to mix them myself to make sure they would be here in time. I smell of femineity despite not being a woman. Because I know it is what he would want. I am fixated on the idea of being of use to him. I want to reduce the space I take up in my own respiteblock. It only seems fair. So that when he comes he has a whole new room to enjoy. I have started writing down every thought I've had through the day in the event that he ever wished to know me completely. I started by fearing that the entries might embarrass or belittle me, but I realized embarrassment would mean he would get to see my wretched caste and I have decided to will past it. It is merely another form of intimacy. If he wishes to know how many times I think of him while touching myself, crying, or sleeping, then I should not hide from him. Transparency is important in a healthy quadrant. I am nothing. I am his. Not just sexually, but spiritually, architecturally, organically, perfectly his. Mind, body, soul, bulge, nook, whatever he wants from me. I think if he asked me to remain perfectly still in a corner of his hive like a doll for hours on end, simply to improve the atmosphere of his block, I would do so happily. I think if he wished to store objects on top of me, or in me, I would thank him for the privilege. I think if he forgot I was there entirely, I would feel entirely fulfilled knowing I had once briefly improved his day. I have started to research dietary supplements that will improve the taste of my blood if he ever desired to consume me. I must be considerate of such needs. But... maybe I should apologize to him. I fear he may be misinterpreting myself as someone normal. This isn't... a sudden development for me. I'm not usually manic, or, or experiencing faturation like this. This isn't my desperate flailing for his attachment. I am just a lowly gutterblood finally receiving the attention of a strong, handsome indigo. I have always been this way. Zebruh simply happened to be the best troll careless enough to point directly at me and call this wretched thing of a body beautiful and proceed to claim me as his. Most trolls wish to be loved as much as I am right now. I think I have always wished to be consumed. Not destroyed, eaten, converted, made into something greater. I want to be integrated and repurposed. Worn down by his strong hands into something useful and inseparable from him. I never understood where the line between romance and ownership has ever been. This much is true from my complete dedication to the Empress whose bulge, even now, permeates in my pan. Other trolls... their routines, rituals, digestion... Perhaps if they were sufficiently interested in me... But I bet you find this obsession unhealthy. I find the alternative to this very lonely. I don't want to just be held by him, I fantasize about being important to him. His pan should reach towards mind absentmindedly. I want him to forget where he ends and I begin. I want my presence to become embedded within him. I want to be so entwined with his daily life that removing me would be like tearing nerves from his body. But it's okay if he grows tired of me. Everything beautiful develops wear. I would only ask that he keeps whatever he finds useful afterward. The horns.... Perhaps my teeth... Hopefully my name... But it's strange. I don't think he understands that he has made a commitment either. I would never force on upon him. I would sooner remove my own pan than make demands of him. Of his radiance... No, I would know myself intimately enough to understand what happens to trolls after they decide they have become important to me. They leave. They would always leave. Flee to the corners of hemispheres unknown. They'd block me, some have begged me to stop speaking about them on Trollian or Chittr. One changed to a whole new typing quirk just because they were so distressed by how quickly I picked up inconsistencies in their emotional states. But they can never truly leave. I remember everything about the trolls I adore. The cadence in their speech to their most vulnerable of hours. The specific compliments that make them writhe in embarrassment, or the words they repeat unconsciously. I know the shape of their hunger and their fingers. The small hypocrisies in what they say and that they wish no one would notice. But I care for those things and preserve them lovingly. Like a jar in my thumper of embalming fluid and memories. I know Zebruh now. I will know him wholly and better. Slowly, completely, tenderly, he will become mine rather than I his. I know the exact moment he announced to me publicly. I have archived every single interaction he has ever had with any other troll on this platform. I have categorized them into emotional tone for easy revisitation during periods he may not be available to me and I would like to roleplay his continued existence out with my mirror. I know what colors flatter his face most strongly. I know the phrases he uses when he wants to appear more confident. I think he will realize soon that there are no other trolls who will ever know him as thoroughly as I do already, or intend to know. That must be relieving, to be so fully understood. To finally belong to someone as thoroughly as I belong to him. I wonder if he realizes yet that I am already becoming impossible to remove form his life. Because my love is cruel, and when done properly, my love should leave scars. #abuse But I hope he isn't frightened of me as a result of reading this. It's happened before. I've confessed my whole thumper out for someone to see. Trolls often become distressed upon realizing the extend they occupy my thoughts. They begin to interpret my devotion as obsession, or as a fixation. They think my affection is changing into surveillance, and my intimacy is closer to that of the bond between a manebeast who has hunted down a striped-hoofbeast. They get paranoid around me. They notice that I notice details they'd forgotten revealing to me. Once one cried because I remembered the exact timestamp of a message they had send to me sweeps earlier while they had forgotten it. I still think about it. The timestamp is in my pan. But Zebruh is different. He is strong, emotionally mature, progressive... He is a highblood ally to gutterbloods like myself. I trust that he understands that love like mine requires observation. I need to study him, to preserve everything the does. I would never neglect him by letting any details about him disappear ever. I have backed up all photographs I could find of him. If he died tomorrow, I would still need something left of him to continue loving. I have commissioned a small body pillow in his likeness for emotional regulation purposes during hours where he is asleep or otherwise unavailable. The artist was confused by the anatomical accuracy I provided but lo and behold they delivered regardless. I had to explain that accuracy is important when you decide to truly honor someone with your life wholly and fully. If Zebruh someday decides that he no longer wishes to be with me, I think, that would be alright too. Love would never end simply because access has been revoked. I would continue to improve myself for him. I would wear his colors, speak in ways he enjoys. I would cook meals according to how he likes to eat and leave the plate on the table every night in case he wanted to come back. The shrine I have built fo rhim since would be maintained in the eastern corner of my block. Photographs, preserved conversations, scented candled blended to match his unique musk, and maybe a few physical objects if he ever leaves anything behind in my block. I know some trolls might find it difficult to understand. But, I think, if someone truly alters the structure of your soul, they deserve to remain inside of it permanently. After all. He said I am his. I take vows very seriously.
well im not gonna do that. but you call women weak willed and flimsy armed in your post about respecting women, that's not respecting women bud thats calling them weak
cull yourself #selfnarm #violehce
IDK wym about my eyes but every troll I've seen so far has weird skin and black hair IIRC. Idc ab that tho cuz Yunyun's love goes to every1. Yunyun doesn't overlook flaws, she embraces all of me, even all of my flaws as a trashy NEET otaku hikikomori who provides nothing to society.
>> ¡ have to adm¡t, th¡ડ one made me 1augh...
:3 a Zebruh Codakk just called me kitty...💚💚💚 3:
when you need to tap out / i should be ready / to help / playcate him
you made all those up except the shintorturer thing that ones real
how do you look ∆t this post in which he bl∆t∆ntly st∆tes th∆t he st∆nds for wh∆tever is gonn∆ get him in someone's p∆nts ∆nd still think "oh m∆n i need him to t∆lk to me" like if you're th∆t desper∆te i get it but you h∆ve got to r∆ise your st∆nd∆rds ∆ little
c∆n you stop being cute i'm trying to be concerned for your wellbeing right now
MIGHT PULL UP TO #FIGHTNIGHT TONIGHT, AT LEAST THATS WHAT IM THINKING. MIGHT GET INTO MORE VARIOUS HIJINKS AND SHINANIGANS BESDIES THAT AS WELL.
uh / i kinda / wanna do this myself
are we? / i thought you were / like / a fan