"Yes, I do believe that is in order. Don't worry, I'll send you back if you fail to meet my standards, but I'm sure I can find a use for you. Now, as for the bill..." He pulls out a stack of bills and places about 20 cybucks on the counter. "Don't expect a tip for your service."
Taylor snatches them up and gives a sickly sweet smiles "Have a good day honey, thank you so much for your service!"
"Silence." He begins to walk away. "Come along now. We need to test your abilities, main dish."
The rat thing follows silently for moment before speaking up, albeit quietly "T-thank you."
A couple of them fire back, and a bullet grazes Evan's arm. However, it isn't long before the pack has been broken up- many have fled whilst the bodies of their kin scatter the tracks. On closer inspection, they were indeed human, and looked like they hadn't seen civilisation in a long time, maybe ever.
"Well $h!t... thought they were somethin' else..."
An electric guitar riff blasts through the tunnels, an unbearable heat riding on the tidal wave of sound. As it falls silent, a voice begins to sing.
"Run and hide in darkness..."
Actual music begins to play.
"Run and hide, hide! Can't deny my calling now! Your secrets Bleeding trails of bodies, By design, oh!"
The source walks out of the tunnel. Another stoatfolk, but this one is dressed in a mix of classic Southern and punk rocker style, with a black leather duster with blue and gold flame designs, a cowboy hat and boots, and fingerless gloves for playing his fork-shaped electric guitar. He has one eye with a golden iris, while his other remains closed. A wide, dagger-toothed grin is spread across his face.
"Just a remnant that won't save you twice!"
The Starving Sovereign. The Lunch Lord. Atticus Gorta.
"I told you! I'll always come back for you! Never was an act so cruel! Wouldn't you know?"
An ancient force of destruction and change. He arrives every five hundred years, and always tips the scales in his favor. His gender, species, and even personality alter every incarnation, but one thing is always the same.
An electric guitar riff blasts through the tunnels, an unbearable heat riding on the tidal wave of sound. As it falls silent, a voice begins to sing.
"Run and hide in darkness..."
Actual music begins to play.
"Run and hide, hide! Can't deny my calling now! Your secrets Bleeding trails of bodies, By design, oh!"
The source walks out of the tunnel. Another stoatfolk, but this one is dressed in a mix of classic Southern and punk rocker style, with a black leather duster with blue and gold flame designs, a cowboy hat and boots, and fingerless gloves for playing his fork-shaped electric guitar. He has one eye with a golden iris, while his other remains closed. A wide, dagger-toothed grin is spread across his face.
"Just a remnant that won't save you twice!"
The Starving Sovereign. The Lunch Lord. Atticus Gorta.
"I told you! I'll always come back for you! Never was an act so cruel! Wouldn't you know?"
An ancient force of destruction and change. He arrives every five hundred years, and always tips the scales in his favor. His gender, species, and even personality alter every incarnation, but one thing is always the same.
"We're trapped inside a tomb!"
It's going to hurt.
Something ancient watches him, like a guardian angel watching over its target. Eyes feel like they are everywhere, buried in the cracks of stone, peeking out from the rotten flesh of corpses, dotting the mildew stained walls, everywhere. Rabbit-like motifs of a smiling cartoon rabbit graffiti the walls, colors of red, green, and dark purple staining the stone.
Something ancient watches him, like a guardian angel watching over its target. Eyes feel like they are everywhere, buried in the cracks of stone, peeking out from the rotten flesh of corpses, dotting the mildew stained walls, everywhere. Rabbit-like motifs of a smiling cartoon rabbit graffiti the walls, colors of red, green, and dark purple staining the stone.
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Something ancient watches him, like a guardian angel watching over its target. Eyes feel like they are everywhere, buried in the cracks of stone, peeking out from the rotten flesh of corpses, dotting the mildew stained walls, everywhere. Rabbit-like motifs of a smiling cartoon rabbit graffiti the walls, colors of red, green, and dark purple staining the stone.
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
Something ancient watches him, like a guardian angel watching over its target. Eyes feel like they are everywhere, buried in the cracks of stone, peeking out from the rotten flesh of corpses, dotting the mildew stained walls, everywhere. Rabbit-like motifs of a smiling cartoon rabbit graffiti the walls, colors of red, green, and dark purple staining the stone.
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
*How big is it?*
*8 feet and 6 inches*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
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There appear to be some people on the deck below, asleep
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
“No, I’m a rat exterminator.”
If I’m being annoying, tell me to shut up. Seriously. Just say “Bananer shut up.” And I will. For a few seconds!
Don’t listen to the folks down at Adohands. It’s good for me to overwork myself.
Professional idiot! Trans! Pansexual pancake! I am a minor so you will do none of that (GP) with me! I use He/They pronouns :3
Extended Signature!
“Ooh, cool!”
If I’m being annoying, tell me to shut up. Seriously. Just say “Bananer shut up.” And I will. For a few seconds!
Don’t listen to the folks down at Adohands. It’s good for me to overwork myself.
Professional idiot! Trans! Pansexual pancake! I am a minor so you will do none of that (GP) with me! I use He/They pronouns :3
Extended Signature!
'Don't shoot. I got a gun, and there's more of us than there are of you'
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
The rat thing follows silently for moment before speaking up, albeit quietly "T-thank you."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"Well $h!t... thought they were somethin' else..."
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
'Hunters work alone. I'd know, I'm one'
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
An electric guitar riff blasts through the tunnels, an unbearable heat riding on the tidal wave of sound. As it falls silent, a voice begins to sing.
"Run and hide in darkness..."
Actual music begins to play.
"Run and hide, hide!
Can't deny my calling now!
Your secrets
Bleeding trails of bodies,
By design, oh!"
The source walks out of the tunnel. Another stoatfolk, but this one is dressed in a mix of classic Southern and punk rocker style, with a black leather duster with blue and gold flame designs, a cowboy hat and boots, and fingerless gloves for playing his fork-shaped electric guitar. He has one eye with a golden iris, while his other remains closed. A wide, dagger-toothed grin is spread across his face.
"Just a remnant that won't save you twice!"
The Starving Sovereign. The Lunch Lord. Atticus Gorta.
"I told you!
I'll always come back for you!
Never was an act so cruel!
Wouldn't you know?"
An ancient force of destruction and change. He arrives every five hundred years, and always tips the scales in his favor. His gender, species, and even personality alter every incarnation, but one thing is always the same.
"We're trapped inside a tomb!"
It's going to hurt.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"You're welcome. You can follow complex recipes, correct?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He nods "My name is Raymond.." he says
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"Well, Raymond, it's time to test your mettle." He opens the door to his centipede construct. "Have you ever made cioppino?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Something ancient watches him, like a guardian angel watching over its target. Eyes feel like they are everywhere, buried in the cracks of stone, peeking out from the rotten flesh of corpses, dotting the mildew stained walls, everywhere. Rabbit-like motifs of a smiling cartoon rabbit graffiti the walls, colors of red, green, and dark purple staining the stone.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"I-I know what it is sir but I don't know how to make it."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"You'll find a recipe card and ingredients inside. I expect it to be tolerable on your first attempt. Now cook." He gestures toward the kitchen.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
'Look, I'm not a threat, I'm on your side. Maybe I could help you get some kills, you get the credit of course'
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
*How big is it?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*8 feet and 6 inches*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘