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A Choose Your Own Adventure story I never released.
Wrote around 10 pages and it was really boring so I stopped and deleted it.
Beautiful Literature.
MultiQuote
#35 Posted 01 September 2011 - 01:05 AM
Brumisator, on 01 September 2011 - 01:59 AM, said:
That thing was so horrible I had to correct its grammar seventeen times, and all I got was:
Hmm... I really need a better mic, and some more text to practice my voice on.
this!
Hmm... I really need a better mic, and some more text to practice my voice on.
lol, he plagarized your work GUI, destroy the onion
#36 Posted 01 September 2011 - 01:30 AM
a crime against literature and a crime against voice acting together at last.
#37 Posted 01 September 2011 - 01:44 AM
A Vvaardenfell sunset
#38 Posted 01 September 2011 - 01:46 AM
To be continued?
XBOX Live/Steam - Crusty Magic
PSN - Crusty_Magic
#42 Posted 09 April 2013 - 06:17 PM
<+ErectuZzZ> now it's time to watch the latest game of thrones
<+ErectuZzZ> isn't it great having my day narrated for you guys?
<+ErectuZzZ> you always know exactly what I'm doing
<Brumi-> I'm going to start reading your posts in Morgan Freeman's voice
It was a cold spring mornin', and I had a goddamn old flu hanging on to me like a bayou leech, and brumi had locked me in an airtight room.
I decided it wasn't fit for me to go out into the world in this state, so I remained homebound as it were, doing calculations for ivory tower professors.
After a goodly few hours of toil, I decided I deserved to enjoy myself a little bit, and turned on the tee vee. Pseudo-medieval politics will take my mind of my runny nose.
After only a short while, I grew tired of this broadcast and proceeded to discuss the finer points of heteronormative sexual discourse with my informal aquaintances. We dwelled on dragons and binary numbers. I think my fever must have been acting up, making me see things that weren't there.
Feeling too weak to stand up, I started sliding down on my computer chair, and proceeded to fondle my journeyman rock.
It felt like reality, the only thing anchoring my mind to this place.
While scratching my head in disbelief, I almost burned my scalp with hot chicken soup. Here was this man asking me questions I couldn't answer.
Ragnar Old boy, I said to myself, you better think of something fast, or lose your status as International Icelander.
I disappeared.
I awoke in a daze, apparently having fallen of my stool and hit my head. I was laying in a pool of my own drool and snot. I could do nothing more than grunt incoherently as my numb body started to awaken.
As the feeling returned to my carnal husk, I first sensed agony...so that's why I passed out. Breathing as shallowly as possible, I dragged myself up to a sitting position and hit my head on the keyboard...what was happening to me? could this be the initial stages of lycanthropy?
I stumbled almost drunkenly away from my computer, try to get a grip on myself, as I started to feel the pilosity of my forearms and back begin to grow at an alarming rate. I coughed. Blood! I coughed again, noticing my gums were bleeding and an excruciating pain was growing in my jaw. Canines were growing , ripping through my formerly human teeth.
As I tried to stumble towards my phone, I vaguely remembere that I don't have a phone on my wall anymore, nobody does. In a screeching blur, my shirt ripped away under the pressure of forming hairy musculature, and my nose was becoming a sniveling snout.
I let go a scream for help, and it became a deathly howl.
I, Ragnar the werewolf.
No best journeyman trophy could save my soul now.
The End.
<+ErectuZzZ> isn't it great having my day narrated for you guys?
<+ErectuZzZ> you always know exactly what I'm doing
<Brumi-> I'm going to start reading your posts in Morgan Freeman's voice
ErectuZ's day off
It was a cold spring mornin', and I had a goddamn old flu hanging on to me like a bayou leech, and brumi had locked me in an airtight room.
I decided it wasn't fit for me to go out into the world in this state, so I remained homebound as it were, doing calculations for ivory tower professors.
After a goodly few hours of toil, I decided I deserved to enjoy myself a little bit, and turned on the tee vee. Pseudo-medieval politics will take my mind of my runny nose.
After only a short while, I grew tired of this broadcast and proceeded to discuss the finer points of heteronormative sexual discourse with my informal aquaintances. We dwelled on dragons and binary numbers. I think my fever must have been acting up, making me see things that weren't there.
Feeling too weak to stand up, I started sliding down on my computer chair, and proceeded to fondle my journeyman rock.
It felt like reality, the only thing anchoring my mind to this place.
While scratching my head in disbelief, I almost burned my scalp with hot chicken soup. Here was this man asking me questions I couldn't answer.
Ragnar Old boy, I said to myself, you better think of something fast, or lose your status as International Icelander.
I disappeared.
I awoke in a daze, apparently having fallen of my stool and hit my head. I was laying in a pool of my own drool and snot. I could do nothing more than grunt incoherently as my numb body started to awaken.
As the feeling returned to my carnal husk, I first sensed agony...so that's why I passed out. Breathing as shallowly as possible, I dragged myself up to a sitting position and hit my head on the keyboard...what was happening to me? could this be the initial stages of lycanthropy?
I stumbled almost drunkenly away from my computer, try to get a grip on myself, as I started to feel the pilosity of my forearms and back begin to grow at an alarming rate. I coughed. Blood! I coughed again, noticing my gums were bleeding and an excruciating pain was growing in my jaw. Canines were growing , ripping through my formerly human teeth.
As I tried to stumble towards my phone, I vaguely remembere that I don't have a phone on my wall anymore, nobody does. In a screeching blur, my shirt ripped away under the pressure of forming hairy musculature, and my nose was becoming a sniveling snout.
I let go a scream for help, and it became a deathly howl.
I, Ragnar the werewolf.
No best journeyman trophy could save my soul now.
The End.
A Vvaardenfell sunset
