All eight of her eyes turn from their solid black to a milky white, and he hears her voice speak inside his mind. "Hello! Testing, testing, 1 2 3."
"ACK!" He screams, stumbling backwards.
Her eyes return to normal. "Oh! Sorry! My bad! Is your brain okay? Did I mess everything up? Are your insides turned into goop? That would actually be very interesting. Could I do that? Aren't insides already kind of goopy? How would that work?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The clocks run out, too late to wake up. You're locked under this nightmare's thumb. Begging you hide and run.
All eight of her eyes turn from their solid black to a milky white, and he hears her voice speak inside his mind. "Hello! Testing, testing, 1 2 3."
"ACK!" He screams, stumbling backwards.
Her eyes return to normal. "Oh! Sorry! My bad! Is your brain okay? Did I mess everything up? Are your insides turned into goop? That would actually be very interesting. Could I do that? Aren't insides already kind of goopy? How would that work?"
"My insides aren't goop!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
he/they/washing machine. Roleplay and worldbuilding fiend.
I don’t actually use the pronouns washing machine in case anyone is that serious, I like washing machines tho.
Thros is swinging a semi-transparet glaive in the courtyard
Morgana is observing, curious.
He practices maneuvers against imaginary opponents, trying to move gracefully, but stumbling a bit with his large frame and armor
She walk's up to him. "Um. Excuse me. What are you doing...?"
"Practicing. You?"
"I guess watching you practice."
"...why?"
"Cuz it seemed interesting."
"Oookay. I'm Thros, you?"
"Morgana. So, do you like... fight with that weird blade?"
"Yeah. Kinda have to. Waddaya mean weird?"
"Well, I mean, it's all... see-through. Aren't blades supposed to be solid? I mean, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's the whole point of a blade. Right?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The clocks run out, too late to wake up. You're locked under this nightmare's thumb. Begging you hide and run.
All eight of her eyes turn from their solid black to a milky white, and he hears her voice speak inside his mind. "Hello! Testing, testing, 1 2 3."
"ACK!" He screams, stumbling backwards.
Her eyes return to normal. "Oh! Sorry! My bad! Is your brain okay? Did I mess everything up? Are your insides turned into goop? That would actually be very interesting. Could I do that? Aren't insides already kind of goopy? How would that work?"
"My insides aren't goop!"
"Oh. That's... That's good? Why did you get all panicky then?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The clocks run out, too late to wake up. You're locked under this nightmare's thumb. Begging you hide and run.
All eight of her eyes turn from their solid black to a milky white, and he hears her voice speak inside his mind. "Hello! Testing, testing, 1 2 3."
"ACK!" He screams, stumbling backwards.
Her eyes return to normal. "Oh! Sorry! My bad! Is your brain okay? Did I mess everything up? Are your insides turned into goop? That would actually be very interesting. Could I do that? Aren't insides already kind of goopy? How would that work?"
"My insides aren't goop!"
"Oh. That's... That's good? Why did you get all panicky then?"
"Because that was scary!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
he/they/washing machine. Roleplay and worldbuilding fiend.
I don’t actually use the pronouns washing machine in case anyone is that serious, I like washing machines tho.
All eight of her eyes turn from their solid black to a milky white, and he hears her voice speak inside his mind. "Hello! Testing, testing, 1 2 3."
"ACK!" He screams, stumbling backwards.
Her eyes return to normal. "Oh! Sorry! My bad! Is your brain okay? Did I mess everything up? Are your insides turned into goop? That would actually be very interesting. Could I do that? Aren't insides already kind of goopy? How would that work?"
"My insides aren't goop!"
"Oh. That's... That's good? Why did you get all panicky then?"
"Because that was scary!"
"It was? How come? I was just thinking to you. That's not all that weird."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The clocks run out, too late to wake up. You're locked under this nightmare's thumb. Begging you hide and run.
Thros is swinging a semi-transparet glaive in the courtyard
Morgana is observing, curious.
He practices maneuvers against imaginary opponents, trying to move gracefully, but stumbling a bit with his large frame and armor
She walk's up to him. "Um. Excuse me. What are you doing...?"
"Practicing. You?"
"I guess watching you practice."
"...why?"
"Cuz it seemed interesting."
"Oookay. I'm Thros, you?"
"Morgana. So, do you like... fight with that weird blade?"
"Yeah. Kinda have to. Waddaya mean weird?"
"Well, I mean, it's all... see-through. Aren't blades supposed to be solid? I mean, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's the whole point of a blade. Right?"
"Oh! Yeah, this one is special. It's a psychic construct. More thought than substance"
Thros is swinging a semi-transparet glaive in the courtyard
Morgana is observing, curious.
He practices maneuvers against imaginary opponents, trying to move gracefully, but stumbling a bit with his large frame and armor
She walk's up to him. "Um. Excuse me. What are you doing...?"
"Practicing. You?"
"I guess watching you practice."
"...why?"
"Cuz it seemed interesting."
"Oookay. I'm Thros, you?"
"Morgana. So, do you like... fight with that weird blade?"
"Yeah. Kinda have to. Waddaya mean weird?"
"Well, I mean, it's all... see-through. Aren't blades supposed to be solid? I mean, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's the whole point of a blade. Right?"
"Oh! Yeah, this one is special. It's a psychic construct. More thought than substance"
"I- ... Woah. Didn't know people here could do that..."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The clocks run out, too late to wake up. You're locked under this nightmare's thumb. Begging you hide and run.
All eight of her eyes turn from their solid black to a milky white, and he hears her voice speak inside his mind. "Hello! Testing, testing, 1 2 3."
"ACK!" He screams, stumbling backwards.
Her eyes return to normal. "Oh! Sorry! My bad! Is your brain okay? Did I mess everything up? Are your insides turned into goop? That would actually be very interesting. Could I do that? Aren't insides already kind of goopy? How would that work?"
"My insides aren't goop!"
"Oh. That's... That's good? Why did you get all panicky then?"
"Because that was scary!"
"It was? How come? I was just thinking to you. That's not all that weird."
"You do that often?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
he/they/washing machine. Roleplay and worldbuilding fiend.
I don’t actually use the pronouns washing machine in case anyone is that serious, I like washing machines tho.
All eight of her eyes turn from their solid black to a milky white, and he hears her voice speak inside his mind. "Hello! Testing, testing, 1 2 3."
"ACK!" He screams, stumbling backwards.
Her eyes return to normal. "Oh! Sorry! My bad! Is your brain okay? Did I mess everything up? Are your insides turned into goop? That would actually be very interesting. Could I do that? Aren't insides already kind of goopy? How would that work?"
"My insides aren't goop!"
"Oh. That's... That's good? Why did you get all panicky then?"
"Because that was scary!"
"It was? How come? I was just thinking to you. That's not all that weird."
"You do that often?"
"Yeah. Much more efficient than talking or whatever. When I'm at home, everybody communicates telepathically. Dunno why you all don't."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The clocks run out, too late to wake up. You're locked under this nightmare's thumb. Begging you hide and run.
Thros is swinging a semi-transparet glaive in the courtyard
Morgana is observing, curious.
He practices maneuvers against imaginary opponents, trying to move gracefully, but stumbling a bit with his large frame and armor
She walk's up to him. "Um. Excuse me. What are you doing...?"
"Practicing. You?"
"I guess watching you practice."
"...why?"
"Cuz it seemed interesting."
"Oookay. I'm Thros, you?"
"Morgana. So, do you like... fight with that weird blade?"
"Yeah. Kinda have to. Waddaya mean weird?"
"Well, I mean, it's all... see-through. Aren't blades supposed to be solid? I mean, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's the whole point of a blade. Right?"
"Oh! Yeah, this one is special. It's a psychic construct. More thought than substance"
"I- ... Woah. Didn't know people here could do that..."
"It's a weird kind of fighter. A psi warrior they call it. I haven't met another one, so I guess it's kinda rare"
Thros is swinging a semi-transparet glaive in the courtyard
Morgana is observing, curious.
He practices maneuvers against imaginary opponents, trying to move gracefully, but stumbling a bit with his large frame and armor
She walk's up to him. "Um. Excuse me. What are you doing...?"
"Practicing. You?"
"I guess watching you practice."
"...why?"
"Cuz it seemed interesting."
"Oookay. I'm Thros, you?"
"Morgana. So, do you like... fight with that weird blade?"
"Yeah. Kinda have to. Waddaya mean weird?"
"Well, I mean, it's all... see-through. Aren't blades supposed to be solid? I mean, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's the whole point of a blade. Right?"
"Oh! Yeah, this one is special. It's a psychic construct. More thought than substance"
"I- ... Woah. Didn't know people here could do that..."
"It's a weird kind of fighter. A psi warrior they call it. I haven't met another one, so I guess it's kinda rare"
"That's neat! Haven't seen anybody else who uses thoughts and psychic abilities since I got here, so I'd have to agree wit that."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The clocks run out, too late to wake up. You're locked under this nightmare's thumb. Begging you hide and run.
Thros is swinging a semi-transparet glaive in the courtyard
Morgana is observing, curious.
He practices maneuvers against imaginary opponents, trying to move gracefully, but stumbling a bit with his large frame and armor
She walk's up to him. "Um. Excuse me. What are you doing...?"
"Practicing. You?"
"I guess watching you practice."
"...why?"
"Cuz it seemed interesting."
"Oookay. I'm Thros, you?"
"Morgana. So, do you like... fight with that weird blade?"
"Yeah. Kinda have to. Waddaya mean weird?"
"Well, I mean, it's all... see-through. Aren't blades supposed to be solid? I mean, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's the whole point of a blade. Right?"
"Oh! Yeah, this one is special. It's a psychic construct. More thought than substance"
"I- ... Woah. Didn't know people here could do that..."
"It's a weird kind of fighter. A psi warrior they call it. I haven't met another one, so I guess it's kinda rare"
"That's neat! Haven't seen anybody else who uses thoughts and psychic abilities since I got here, so I'd have to agree wit that."
"So what's your deal?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"You remember me. Just think a little harder"
Maniacal Unseelie Nightmare Enby
She/they
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"Cuz it seemed interesting."
The clocks run out, too late to wake up.
You're locked under this nightmare's thumb.
Begging you hide and run.
W H A T H A V E I B E C O M E ?
*cut with Gonz*
"Uh. No thanks."
he/they/washing machine. Roleplay and worldbuilding fiend.
I don’t actually use the pronouns washing machine in case anyone is that serious, I like washing machines tho.
"... Oh. Alright. I'll do something else then."
All eight of her eyes turn from their solid black to a milky white, and he hears her voice speak inside his mind. "Hello! Testing, testing, 1 2 3."
The clocks run out, too late to wake up.
You're locked under this nightmare's thumb.
Begging you hide and run.
W H A T H A V E I B E C O M E ?
"Oookay. I'm Thros, you?"
"You remember me. Just think a little harder"
Maniacal Unseelie Nightmare Enby
She/they
"Morgana. So, do you like... fight with that weird blade?"
The clocks run out, too late to wake up.
You're locked under this nightmare's thumb.
Begging you hide and run.
W H A T H A V E I B E C O M E ?
"ACK!" He screams, stumbling backwards.
he/they/washing machine. Roleplay and worldbuilding fiend.
I don’t actually use the pronouns washing machine in case anyone is that serious, I like washing machines tho.
"Yeah. Kinda have to. Waddaya mean weird?"
"You remember me. Just think a little harder"
Maniacal Unseelie Nightmare Enby
She/they
Her eyes return to normal. "Oh! Sorry! My bad! Is your brain okay? Did I mess everything up? Are your insides turned into goop? That would actually be very interesting. Could I do that? Aren't insides already kind of goopy? How would that work?"
The clocks run out, too late to wake up.
You're locked under this nightmare's thumb.
Begging you hide and run.
W H A T H A V E I B E C O M E ?
"My insides aren't goop!"
he/they/washing machine. Roleplay and worldbuilding fiend.
I don’t actually use the pronouns washing machine in case anyone is that serious, I like washing machines tho.
"Well, I mean, it's all... see-through. Aren't blades supposed to be solid? I mean, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's the whole point of a blade. Right?"
The clocks run out, too late to wake up.
You're locked under this nightmare's thumb.
Begging you hide and run.
W H A T H A V E I B E C O M E ?
"Oh. That's... That's good? Why did you get all panicky then?"
The clocks run out, too late to wake up.
You're locked under this nightmare's thumb.
Begging you hide and run.
W H A T H A V E I B E C O M E ?
"Because that was scary!"
he/they/washing machine. Roleplay and worldbuilding fiend.
I don’t actually use the pronouns washing machine in case anyone is that serious, I like washing machines tho.
"It was? How come? I was just thinking to you. That's not all that weird."
The clocks run out, too late to wake up.
You're locked under this nightmare's thumb.
Begging you hide and run.
W H A T H A V E I B E C O M E ?
"Oh! Yeah, this one is special. It's a psychic construct. More thought than substance"
"You remember me. Just think a little harder"
Maniacal Unseelie Nightmare Enby
She/they
"I- ... Woah. Didn't know people here could do that..."
The clocks run out, too late to wake up.
You're locked under this nightmare's thumb.
Begging you hide and run.
W H A T H A V E I B E C O M E ?
"You do that often?"
he/they/washing machine. Roleplay and worldbuilding fiend.
I don’t actually use the pronouns washing machine in case anyone is that serious, I like washing machines tho.
"Yeah. Much more efficient than talking or whatever. When I'm at home, everybody communicates telepathically. Dunno why you all don't."
The clocks run out, too late to wake up.
You're locked under this nightmare's thumb.
Begging you hide and run.
W H A T H A V E I B E C O M E ?
"It's a weird kind of fighter. A psi warrior they call it. I haven't met another one, so I guess it's kinda rare"
"You remember me. Just think a little harder"
Maniacal Unseelie Nightmare Enby
She/they
"That's neat! Haven't seen anybody else who uses thoughts and psychic abilities since I got here, so I'd have to agree wit that."
The clocks run out, too late to wake up.
You're locked under this nightmare's thumb.
Begging you hide and run.
W H A T H A V E I B E C O M E ?
"So what's your deal?"
"You remember me. Just think a little harder"
Maniacal Unseelie Nightmare Enby
She/they