Ozymandias Posted October 25, 2001 Report Posted October 25, 2001 Deirdre Deirdre glares at the Grim Squeaker and then at Zool,and starts singing in an unknown language. As her voice becomes sharper and even more shrill, her eyes turn into black spots and she grabs a nearby mage, smiling seductively at him. She grabs him and starts sucking away at his neck and then urges him to drink from her neck. The male groans and starts sucking away at her throat. Deirdre smiles as he slowly turns into a demon. She then conjures up a group of MRs who advance on the Grim Squeaker and Zool menacingly. Just as Grim Squeaker jumps to his feet, Deirdre waves her hand and the apparitions disppear. Zool stares at himself in shock as the "wounds" he was supposed to have disappear from his body. Deirdre throws her head back and laughs at them for having been fooled.
Ozymandias Posted October 25, 2001 Report Posted October 25, 2001 Racouol Racouol jumped up as he saw Deirdre turn into a demon and summon those MRs. Finding out it was just an illusion he angrily sat back down, while muttering curses and saying other unpleasant things about this woman. He continued to keep his weary eye on her.
Ozymandias Posted October 25, 2001 Report Posted October 25, 2001 The Grim Squeaker writewritewrite _____________________________________________ Would that I could drink... Yours, The Death of Rats The Great Squeaker Priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen Treant Hill Mob, App ____________________________________________
Ozymandias Posted October 25, 2001 Report Posted October 25, 2001 Kiya Oblivious to the goings on, a small red wolf noses the door open and walks into a dark corner, where she curls up with a "woof". Two tiny faery dragons circle around her, one glossy red, one transparent purple with blue highlights. They twine their tails about her body. The trio lies down and watches the surroundings with interest.
Ozymandias Posted October 25, 2001 Report Posted October 25, 2001 Zool Zool smiles. He raises his arms in the air, loosely touching his fingertips together over his head. There is a blue spark and something sizzles. He slowly drops his straightened arms, so that his hands are further and further apart. The blue spark grows into a blue ball. The glowing blue ball of magic now envelopes Zool, his arms straight out. “You seem to enjoy controlling life as a god. Perhaps you should see it as a god.” says Zool, who then directs the energy at Deirdre. The energy envelops Deirdre. Her eyes close, and she stands stock-still. She feels a vibration deep in her parietal lobe, which builds in intensity and spreads like waves from a splash. Where the waves wash, she ceases to feel her body. She feels a rising sensation as if she were at the end of a taught spring. It wasn’t a pulling sensation; rather she felt a tremendous release, and incredible lightness and naturalness in the action. She flows up through the clouds, which tower like ethereal mountains, the sun just breaking over the top. Her senses have increased a hundred fold. All sights are infinitely clearer, sharper, brighter, and all sounds richer, fuller, more detailed. Thunder Rolls, and she sees the Gods are escorting her. The Heavenly choir sings as she is handed up to Divinity. All of creation is in front of her. Space is a vast ocean of heat and cold, dust and rock, forces and radiation that Deirdre perceives as intense color, all of which she could cup in her open hands. Her time sense explodes to infinity. Her mind sinks into the universe, which stretches to fit her view. She is effortlessly soaring through the cosmos. She sees herself and laughs joyously. She is an incredible being of shimmering light, with comets for hair and a robe of cosmic rays. She looks around, and feels the universe quicken as she watches the interplay of titanic forces. One vast boiling cloud of raw materials and forces catches her attention. New Galaxies are spewing out, young stars ignited, planets condensing. Galaxies spread out before her like sand thrown into the wind. They are dancing, caught in that wind, whirling and spinning, eternally being born, aging, maturing, dancing, drawing closer to their galactic partners, and finally dying, to cycle again, like all things in nature. The intensity of her excitement of the incredible panoply before her is only made possible by the depths of her newfound emotions. Where is the Earth? In one motion the universe responds to her idle thought by shifting to show a single galactic cloud, then a speck of a star on an outreaching arm of one of the galaxies and then a blue planet swells for her close observation. The Earth is a dynamic ball of interplaying forces, strained shifting masses, molten and solid, resting on its center, trapped by the sun. She becomes concurrently aware of all the other rocks and bodies whizzing around that will ever hit or come close to hitting the Earth throughout it’s existence. It looks like a veritable shooting gallery. She thought how easy it would be to reach out and give the slightest touch to a certain asteroid, and set in motion events that would crack the earth in half eons later. And she could. On the surface is a thin film of whirling gasses and water, with a most delicately thin layer painting the surface of the Earth itself with life. She feels as if with the smallest breath she could blow it from the spinning speck of rock and into the void. And she could. Her mind swims lower, trying to catch the delicious flavor of the peculiar activity of life. Looking down, she perceives each life form as a glowing light. Every cell, every virus, every slug, snail, blade of grass, every animal glowed with the light of life, crackled with the sound of it’s causation. People were particularly bright, every single one a shining energy locus. She looked at how delicate the underlying balance was that kept each flame burning, and how with a flicker of her eyelash she could easily extinguish that flame, or cause endless torment. And she could. It occurred to her the magnificence and Godlike feat of the universe and its prodigy. ‘Difficult’ did not begin to describe in the least the miracle of her natural existence in such a cataclysm of grinding, polar forces. Deirdre, from a god’s perspective, smiled. All was right with the world. All these people, through all the pain, suffering, death, loneliness, degradation, as was often caused by their own misguidance, still pushed forward, still sought their fullest experience through their fullest selves. By its nature, there is much pain in life. Pain, however, is a useless method to connect to anything. The goal is to break the pain, and nurture the person. Deirdre looked from herself to the others around her, and saw they were also beings of light. Oh, they might not see as well or get around as fast, but inside they were the same, and if the task is made harder, the accomplishment is only made larger. Deirdre opened her eyes.
Ozymandias Posted October 25, 2001 Report Posted October 25, 2001 Deirdre and knocked out Zool. "Sorry, Zool but I don't fall for such tricks. Nice try there, though!" She smiles at him.
Ozymandias Posted October 25, 2001 Report Posted October 25, 2001 Attack of the Flying Grapes I couldn't pass this one up, and while huge it may be, it'll still take me less time to complete than all the Zool homework I need to do. *shudder* That, and it's the most wonderfully insane thread I've ever seen. -Ed. Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 1/7/02 12:52:47 pm
Ozymandias Posted January 7, 2002 Report Posted January 7, 2002 Dethyl walks into the Hall and notices fellow mages struggling with monstrous grapes Dethyl opens a warp rift in to another dimension and starts casting an implosion centering on the grapes trying to suck them into the dark void. Boy do these grapes hurt, and they sure can bite. Dethyl struggle to concentrate on his implosion spell, Dethyl's entourage of 50 dominions complain about fruit gone bad. Dethyl's black hole in the centre of the Banquet hall grows. He hopes some one covers him for long enough to suck the grapes to oblivion. ------------------ Battle does not need a purpose, the battle is it's own purpose, you do not ask why a plague spreads or a field burns, do not ask why I fight. Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 2/23/02 11:51:09 am
Ozymandias Posted January 8, 2002 Report Posted January 8, 2002 Deirdre the cat suddenly hears a lot of stomping noises and sees a whole bunch of monstrous Flying Grapes approaching her. Deirdre the cat meows and quickly casts VE on them. Unfortunately, the Grapes look only slightly charred and none are destroyed. They close onto poor Deirdre the cat who struggles to run away. Suddenly, Greased enters the Banquet Hall without realising what is going on. He is nearly squashed by the Grapes as some of them fly into him. Deirdre the cat meows in alarm as the Grapes start to grow fangs and fly after her. Deirdre the cat quickly summons 1000 AAs to help her. The AAs are however,no match for the Flying Grapes as they continue to crowd the Hall. Deirdre quickly yells for Greased to help her as the Banquet Hall is suddenly invaded by an increasing number of Grapes. Afraid that Greased might not be able to help her in time, Deirdre quickly casts the Gate spell and summons 10,000 Knights to aid her. All right guys now it's ur turn to continue this...... Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 2/23/02 11:49:51 am
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 From outside the Banquet Hall, Dameon hears the sounds of the great battle raging inside. He watches as a giant fanged grape fly's through an upper level window and lands with a 'splat'at his feet. Dameon recgonizes this particular grape as one of the grapes summoned from the incredible spell "grapes of wrath". He groans inwardly and runs into the great hall as he hears Greased scream in rage followed by a fury of hisses from Deirdre the cat. Inside the hall, Dameon is assulted by the sights and sounds of battle. He sees Dythl desperately casting a 'black hole' spell as the bartender and waitresses attack injured grapes with wine glasses. Mumbling to himself, he summons Air elementals to blow the grapes towards Dythl's ever increasing black hole... If only someone could cast "ray of light" Dameon thinks, we could turn these rasins into grapes..... ------------------ Dameon Wandering Bard Of Terra Edited by: Ozymandias the Elder at: 2/23/02 11:52:22 am
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 The swarms of grapes form into a giant three-dimensional face and gurn at Server One's attempts to destroy them. They stick out a tongue of white grapes at the Tarakian lands, distort themselves like a Munch painting over the SOBS's arena, fly the Union Jack insultingly over The French Barbarbian's camp, form a tribal mask over The Tribe, wiggle their ears at the Legion of Dragons, thumb their nose towards the Pacifists?, roll their eyes at the Rainbow Alliance, pretend to pick their teeth with the pinnacle of the CftM! guildhall.
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Greased is bewildered. Flying grapes? Greased wonders what Diedre has been smoking, and subsequently summoned upon this plane. Greased attempts to stomp upon a flying grape, but the flying grape cries "Weeeeee!" as it flies away! Greased encants, and gravity seems to drag as the grapes seemingly fly at one-fourth their speed. But then, Greased can only move at one-quarter of his own speed, so Gravity Pull is perfectly useless. Greased is not surprised. Greased espies Diedre hissing with rage and quaking with fear in the corner at of the Hall, spitting furiously as she actually tags a flying grape with a claw! The flying grape bleeds! Diedre slurps up the juice and declaims: "Meow!" Greased sees the dangers of the flying grapes! These grapes, these grapes could, could... destroy everything! Greased comes up with an idea. Greased calls out, "Who has the Holy Grail of Wine?"
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Quadamage begins laughin at all the terror the flying grapes are causijng, and casually casts a low-level Chain Lightning, making everybody's (including Diedre the cat) hair stand on end, but succeeding in turning the Flying Grapes into Frying Grapes. His face sags, however as he realizes what he has done. He has not destroyed the grapes, merely mutated them into a MUCH more deadly form. He looks sheepishly around and calls for his honor gaurd of Vampires to begin eating the grapes. He hopes it works...
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Ozymandias enters the hall, dishevelved, bruised, and bloody. Seeing fanged, sizzling fruit abrubtly flying at his face, mutters "Oh damn", and quickly whips out his spellbook. Miraculously, it falls open to the perfect page. A moment away from being devoured in his weakened state, he begins casting Summon Wine Press, and smiles. *This could be a good day after all*, he muses.
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Dameon, whirls and smiles greatfully at the new mages entering the fray. Shaking his head at Greased, he quicly cast feet of hermes on the incredibly slowed man. Turning to Ozymandious he throws a fully charged mana crystal at his feet hoping that the added mana will help him in his summons of the 'Wine Press'. "Hopefully," Dameon says, "we wont have to cast the horrid spell -summon the welches kid. I hate that kid and his stupid 'it's a taste you can feel in your cheeks.' line. BAH!!!" Dameon becomes enraged thinking about the slimy little welches kid and tears a frying grape in half , spattering himself with the new electric grape flavoured cool-aid
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Decimator was sitting quietly at his table in the corner, surveying the fruity carnage that surrounded him. Suddenly a rather large grape sailed across the room and went splat on his face. "That's enough!" cried Decimator in an uncharacteristic display of anger. He set down his can of Sprite, got up, and...brought a loaf of bread from a pocket of his cloak. It was soon followed by a container of chunky peanut butter and a knife. Decimator spread a thick layer of the peanut butter on the bread with care and effortlessly grabbed an airborne grape. Smiling diabolically, he smooshed the grape into a pulp and wiped it onto the bread. Decimator sat down again and started to enjoy his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Yo-yokirby walks into the Banquet hall, not in the least expecting to see "The Attack of the Killer Tomatoes II: The Fried Flying Fanged Fruit". He dashes away and returns with a movie camera and begins filming the carnage...
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Ozymandias gives Dameon a quick nod of thanks for his timely intervention. Book in one hand, he snatches up the mana crystal in the other, narrowly avoiding some flaming grapes. "Welch's kid?? NEVER!!!", he roars, as blue lines of energy crackle and arc around him. A gateway opens and a Wine Press emerges. Bearing down on the nearest, well, bunch, it takes hundreds of grapes from the fray with one scoop of its' maw and begins to squeeze. Ozymandias is shrieking madly now: "Glasses! Dammit, I need glasses!!!" A hail of wine glasses come at him as the barmaids and bartender throw everything they've got from cover behind the bar. Drinking for all he's worth as Tzimfemme heroically rushes to serve newcomers badly burned wine (for a small tip), the battle begins to turn. But then, through a growing drunken stupor, he notices a new predicament- "Blasht it, Dethyl, your black holesh' got th wine preshh!! Shut it off, or we'll all be shucked through!!!"
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Tzimfemme hurls her flail at a passing grape, breaking off its fangs but otherwise doing it no damage. Fangs? . . .She quickly decides that, Server One or no, her alter ego is better equipped to deal with this, and whistles up Rydia. Rydia observes the angry swarm with little surprise, and mumbles "not fruit again" under her breath. She and indigo-haired Minta (her youthful assistant) take up the paddles and begin smacking the miscreants. They sail towards Rosemary as she holds out her arms to welcome them. "You know, Rose," grunts Rydia as she spanked another grape, "I was thinking that you could eat them, maybe!" "But they love me! They're coming to me! How could I eat them?" coos the lunatic vampire. The grapes fly past Rosemary towards the black hole. She stamps her foot, furious at being ignored, and suddenly exposes her own fangs. "Tastes like you!" she cheerfully informs Minta, grabbing and draining another grape. Minta picks up the dejuiced grapes, one in each hand, and drags the mega-raisins to a nearby eradication portal. Fire giants, she knows, just love oatmeal raisin cookies.
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Dethyl hears Ozymandias's voice and loses his concentration, the black hole fizzles after sucking in about half the grapes. Quadamage cast gravity pull as everyone suddenly feels heavy, Daemon screams out ,"Everyone try to crush the grapes on the floor!" Amidst the mad stomping and squishing sounds, someone notices the bartender gathering wine from the cruched grapes. Judging from the smile of the bartender's face,he is delighted. Deirdre the Cat uses her telepathic powers and realises that it was the bartender who cast the spell, in the hope that his best customers: the arhmages would be able to crush all the grapes so he could cash in on the free wine and later sell it back to the mages for a much higher price. Deirdre draws upon her psionic powers and tells everyone about the bartender's fruity plot that has begun to ferment. The bartender watches with glee that no one is close enough to harm him while his grapes are around. Then suddenly, A whole bunch of white knights and dread knights ride in on horseback and start piercing the grapes and making kebabs out of them. Finally all the grapes are immobalised and every mage is bleeding or dirty. Then all the mages start stalking menancingly towards the now cowering bartender.
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Hair standing on end from the ambient electrical charge, robes now even more askew, and just all around covered in blood (his, but just a little bit) and burnt grape juice (quite a lot), Ozymandias gingerly picks himself up off of the floor, beating out small fires in his robes and taking care not to step on any wine glasses. Blinking owlishly at the realization that it was the bartender, a dark look crosses his face. "Cast Grapes of Wrath on me, will you? There's only one fitting punishment for that." (quickly thumbs through a stained spellbook) "WRATH OF STEINBECK!" He chants surprisingly clearly, there is another blue flash, and an old man walks through the front door. He stops dead. Surveying the carnage, his face gets redder and redder. Very, very quietly, he speaks. "That...was...great...LITERATURE YOU JUST MADE MOCKERY AND A RATHER SMELLY MESS OF, YOU BUFFOON!" Righteous anger launches him across the banquet hall in seconds. "IT WASN'T EVEN A *GOOD* PUN!!!!", Steinbeck is heard to scream. Before pitching forward onto his face again, Ozymandias turns to Greased and says, "Well, that'll teach me to leave the Holy Grail of Wine at home." He hits the floor with a loud SMACK. Snoring softly, he doesn't even stir when Dameon tries to get past, slips on some stomped grapes, and falls on him.
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Deirdre the cat is covered with remains of the grapes and is about to get out of the BH when she notices a group of wierd-looking things walking towards the Hall. She takes a closer look and screams.......... Marching towards the Hall is another group of Grapes,fangs sharpened to avenge their dead cousins. Deirdre the cat runs back into the Hall to warn the rest of the tired mages. Suddenly,a group of fanged bats fly into the Hall and Deirdre is frightened to death.
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Yo-yokirby puts away his movie camera and deftly makes many copies of the carnage. He sets up a pile by the door with a sign saying, "Get it here! 'The Attack of the Killer Tomatoes II: The Flying Fanged Fruit of Fury!' Only $4.95!"
Ozymandias Posted January 28, 2002 Report Posted January 28, 2002 Ozymandias wakes with a jolt after some hot coffee-is upended on his head by a helpful barmaid. "YAAAAAAHHH! Ow! Bats?!? Damn, damn! Where did they get bats???" He crawls for his spellbook, sore, scalded, but determined not to lose another fine drinking establishment. John Steinbeck is still off behind the bar, pummeling the poor bartender as three barmaids look on in bewilderment. Great in fury, but not strength of arm, Steinbeck wilts the bartender under the constant pressure of an old man sitting on top of you, screaming, and hitting you in the face more than any physical damage could. "I'm a WRITER! You serve ALCOHOL to medieval savages for a LIVING! You could never understand my work! Never! NEVER!!"
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