Here lies a DAEMONIAC. You know through your training as a scholar of the METAREALM it is a book of reference provided by ZHUM-AKUL, LORD OF REFERENCES.
ZZZLH GOZ AM- AGUR
Oh illustrious ruler of all things
Carve the flesh of Man
Guide us down the pain-wracked destiny
Peel back our fluttering eyelids so we may see
AMEN ACHYLS, MISTRESS
LEVEL 80 DEVIL ASPIRANT
Chief ARCANO LIBRARIAN of the TERRIBLY NAUGHTY LIBRARIANS. She LONGETH for supportive UNDERWEAR.
ALLISON RUTH
LEVEL 0 METASOUL
She counts 21 yers of ege and Ys TOTALLY flaxen-gold of hair and DESPITHETH books. Was HEAVY OF BODY AND SOUL in HIGH SCHOOL and resigneth herself to a lyfe both FUN AND PEPPY at a SORORITY.
BAALZ-ABAB, THE VYLE
LEVEL 999 ARCHFIEND
???
CACODAEMON
Paltry of strength and numerous, they roameth the endless wastes at the edge of creation, ever-hunger screaming for foreign flesh to soak their bloated forms Yn. They are the feeblest of the white children of UN but their count Ys Legion among the Formless.
DHOTHUULMELL (OSCAR), LESSER DEVIL
LEVEL 680 LESSER DEVIL
He wieldeth the COAT OF ARMS and consygns himself to a LYFE OF LECHERY, DEBAUCHERY, AND THIEVERY MOST VYLE, but he greatly ENJOYETH himself.
EYE OF GOG-AGOG
LEVEL 830 PARASYTE
Transdymensional warding demon. He hosts himsylf upon Allyson Ruth and is Most dysgruntled.
GOG-AGOG, THE TENTACULAR
LEVEL 980 ARCHFIEND
LORD of the Oglyng reaches, he extendeth his CRUEL DOMAIN and STRIVETH against his ryval, BAALZ-ABAB.
FRIEDRICH WILHELM NIETZSCHE
LEVEL 8 METASOUL
Slew God.
----KMMMM ZL ULZBRRG----
Amen
---ADVENTURE START----
You are 21 years old (says so on your drivers license, which is totally legit), and you just got your hair redone (it looks amazing by the way). You are assistant treasury secretary in charge at your sorority, ALPHA PHI OMEGA. You are wearing a totally hot top you just got a few days ago but you really hope doesn't make your hips look big.
You are currently sitting uncomfortably in the basement pool clubhouse/spa of your sorority house. There is a PARTY going on, and you are totally NOT self conscious about all the people here you don't know. It smells like chlorine and stale beer, which is ok, because you totally get smashed and party ALL the time. You tell yourself again you are a fun and peppy girl.
You don't know why but you feel a sudden urge to COMPLETE an action.
What do you do? You could keep, like, reading your magazines. You could walk around a bit I guess and maybe try and find your friends (you totally have friends). You could maybe swim (ew).
One more thing. Your first name is Allison. But what is your last?
>Go talk to booooys, that's what girls do here right? That or talk to girls? Oh gooooooshh
But yes.... YES THAT IS WHAT PEOPLE DO
TALK aaaaaah
Your name is Allison Ruth.
You think about talking to boys. Then immediately wish you didn't.
Oh my god you're freaking out a little bit now. All those stunning eyes, judging you. All that gross sweat and chiseled jaws and stubble, rising up out of the gloom like some terrible dark edifice of doom, proclaiming your inferiority.
You quickly decide against it. Maybe you do something... else instead. You could keep reading magazines, maybe try and find a quieter spot. You could walk around a bit and try and get all these chiseled visages out of your mind. The sky is really the limit. That's what you keep telling yourself.
Do you think you could like, slink away somewhere, find someone you know?
You.... you do know at least one person at this party right?
Originally Posted by Whimbrel
Zach
>Skim magazines
You suppose you could leave your CLEVERLY HIDDEN READING behind and go find one of your totally nice, not fake, and totally friendly and sincere sorority sisters.
I mean, if you wanted to be like, social and stuff. Which I guess you're supposed to be because you are so fun and peppy
If this ain't really your thing why are you even here? What did you expect?
Anyway, you could probably like, take the book and stuff, and try to find somewhere that no one will bother you?
(Although that could either paint you as a frigid bitch or as someone Oh So Higher Than Thou, both of which could draw some boooooys toward you o: )
If this ain't really your thing why are you even here? What did you expect?
Anyway, you could probably like, take the book and stuff, and try to find somewhere that no one will bother you?
(Although that could either paint you as a frigid bitch or as someone Oh So Higher Than Thou, both of which could draw some boooooys toward you o: )
Originally Posted by OrangeAipom
Wipe the sweat off of your skin.
Originally Posted by Whimbrel
Man you should like, take your magazines and stuff with you and go see if there's something to eat?
You, like, resolve to go find somewhere nice and quiet to enjoy your Nietz--- Nails Monthly and Hair weekly magazines. Wiping the sweat off your skin would be good too, because that would totally make you break out.
You resolve to go to your refuge since high school... the bathroom. Totally. There might even be girls in there that you can talk about... boys with.
As you walk by you can hear some of your, um, totally sincere and friendly sisters snickering about you. This is totally ok because you guys are bffs forever and you LOVE them and the rest of ALPHA PHI OMEGA. There's nothing you have to prove to them, or yourself. Or whatever.
They're snickering about some kind of freaky tattoo you have. Which weirds you out a bit.
You are confident they are talking about someone else because you have like, never, ever had a tattoo in your life.
You head into the bathroom, resolved to read quietly. People are still staring at you weird though.
It's a pretty nice bathroom all in all. There's a mirror here where you could like, fix your makeup and stuff. Maybe try and get the rest of that sweat off.
There's two pretty cheap CONDOM DISPENSERS which you totally have used ALL THE TIME in your partying.
There are three stalls. You're fairly sure one of them is occupied, but it would be like, totally rude to point that out. It's pretty quiet in here at least, except for a weird dripping sound. What do you do?
> Suddenly your back feels a bit itchy. Scratch it.
You oblige. Your back is pretty itchy for some weird reason, wow. Must have been sunburn or something, you don't tan well. You tried that fake tanning stuff and it turns out you were allergic, eww. ):
I guess you'll always be pale and scrawny and nobody will like .... anyway.
You also realize this swimsuit makes your butt look HUGE and its riding up really bad.
Um, you totally don't know what sleuthing means because you've never read the complete Sherlock Holmes including the extended commentary and introduction edition which you got totally cheap off Amazon because you are fun and peppy and not some introverted nerd. But you check out the dripping sound anyway.
It was the faucet. Duh.
But now you turn it off, there's something else that appears to be a bit louder, coming from that stall you were pretty sure was occupied. And now you're pretty sure it's occupied by two people because the sounds coming out of it are something you totally know about because you are totally NOT A VIRGIN.
You like, totally ponder a dizzying array of possibilities. You could run back to the party. You could stand outside the stall like a creeper. You could totally scream at the top of your lungs in a horrified attempt at humor. Frankly, you're a little paralyzed. Do you knock? Do you cough and thereby acknowledge your presence making the situation about 50 times more awkward?
Unfortunately your body, as it has been consistently doing since the 7th grade, betrays you again by flinging you right at the door in a futile attempt to combine all three of your bizarre and seemingly random impulses.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD. You are seriously, like, no joking flipping your shit right now. Oh man, your sisters are going to be SO PISSSED. oh man, you better not get it on your top or itll take ages to wash out how is there so much blood here oh my god is that heavy breathing? there is something moving up there. You should probably KEEP LOOKING AT THE FLOOR DON'T LOOK UP OH MY GOD
Not only did you just walk in on someone getting it on but there's some freaky cosmo shit going on here
you prepare to freak out
god now you're sweating again, you really are freaking out and its going to rune your makeup
Originally Posted by Ed
CALM YO TITS
Originally Posted by Whimbrel
Put those shades on so no one can see how much you are freaking out
Y-YOU'RE RIGHT. COOL AND PEPPY AND FUN.
IGNORE HEAVY BREATHING. GOTTA ACCESSORIZE. GOT TO LOOK CALM.
ok, you put on your really expensive sunglasses that you bought because you're PRETTY CERTAIN it would make you fit in- I mean, make you more popu- I mean, look good with your outfit. You feel better. You're in control. You MEANT to do that. Heavy breathing and that vague gurgling sound doesn't mean anything.
Originally Posted by dragonpaul99
It's probably just a prank by the other sorority girls. But whatever you do, don't make an ass of yourself.
Duh! You've always thought about dumping a gallon of blood in the bathrooms just to mess with your BFFs.
Ok there are definitely some freaky noises going on now. M-m aybe you should look ...holyshitwhatareyoudoingherewhatthefuckisgoingon NOPE! Not going to look up. going to keep sleuthing. Gosh, this heavy breathing is really, like, ragging on your style.
what could be the source of all this blood? Um, a silly sorority girl like you wouldn't really know, maybe you have to sleuth further! Sleuth FURTHER INTO IGNORANCE
also, really, you just discovered a bunch of blood, you are a blond, this is a school setting
EVERYTHING POINTS TO TWO THINGS
ONE
YOU ARE IN A HORROR MOVIE
TWO
YOU ARE PROBABLY GOING TO DIE FIRST
As such, you must fulfill your role as first (or first female if there is a black guy somewhere) person to die and scream out your little lungs.
Just kidding, looks like a great adventure!
>Realize that this is just like the Lovecraft you were reading last week.
Oh, that's a relief, it's just Melissa, your Big Sis.
Hey Melissa! You say feebly. It's hard to get around the bubbling, gurgling sound, and the fact that you're about to probably die and your back is REALLY itchy.
YGHHOL SSNTHL ZZGOTL BALZZ says melissa, spittle dripping from her lips
You could do the, um, blonde sorority girl thing and probably like, die or get molested like in all the movies or the books or something or curl up and cry and hope that something would save you and then probably die anyway because all the hot blondes die first.
But the terrible secret is...
You're not REALLY blonde.
Originally Posted by Xander
FLEE! TENTACLES ARE BAD ENOUGH FOR HOT BABES! TENTACLES AND BLOOD IS WORSE!
Tattoo that you definitely don't have: Activate tentacle monster repellent magic
Originally Posted by PyroThermal
Defend thyself with the arcane arts originating from the tattoo on your back that you totally don't have.
Originally Posted by creestaleen
Scratch that persistent itch on your back because that's the most logical thing to do.
WELL THIS IS, UM, A LOT OF FUN.
You consider how your life has gone in about 2 minutes from trying to find a nice, quiet place to avoid social press- READ QUIETLY to the situation you're currently in where you're probably going to die from some horrible rapey japanese fantasy.
God, this is totally unfair. You JUST did your hair too.
AND YOUR FACE IS FREAKING ITCHING NOW. OF ALL TIMES.
That itch looks kind of like a monocle. A magic monocle.
Monocle: inexplicably teleport host an indeterminate distance away, keeping host in local area yet removing host from circumstance of being surrounded. Inexplicably. Replace space previously occupied by host with chlorine tab powder and pool salt.
Alternatively, should eldritch consensus determine the previous hypothetical action be unfavorable, combust the stale beer of host's peers, redirecting their priorities from host to preserving beer and not being on fire. Creatures generally like not being on fire.
YOU ARE SURROUNDED
BLACK OUT AND BE SAVED BY THE FORESHADOWED INSANE MAJICK
Originally Posted by Medea
> Flip the f**k out.
You start flipping the fuck out.
YOU DESPERATELY TRY TO HOLD YOUR BREATHE IN ORDER BLACK OUT, HOPING THAT MAYBE SOME MAGICAL POWERS WILL SAVE YOU, LIKE IN THE BOOKS YOU TOTALLY DON'T READ. Little hurried gasps keep sneaking out though, the bastards.
You're not very good at holding your breathe though. Or swimming, or fighting, or anything really. Wow, this took a turn for the worse pretty fast
Originally Posted by Askia
confess you arent blond its the only way to save yourself
Oh god no, everyone would judge you like CRAZY (despite being all tentacley and squirmy) and you would never live out the rest of your admittedly short life with a reputation as a dye job. NATURAL BLONDE. FUN AND PEPPY. ALL THE TIME.
You try to wish that you have some kind of hidden magical power bestowed on you, but you can't, because it's really evident that you are just an ordinary literature lovi- dumb sorority girl with a DYEJO- natural blonde locks and this is clearly beyond you ohgod all the mess and the noise and what is going on. THIS IS INSANE. THIS IS INSANEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
You are now the EYE OF GOG-AGOG.
You are disappointed.
You have to say this isn't one of the more impressive hosts you've had. In fact, she doesn't appear to even be a 0 level metasoul. Her ability to fight regular cacodaemoneia is really quite pitiful, and she's pretty close to passing out. I mean, these are level 5 cacadaemonia. Come the fuck on.
That itch looks kind of like a monocle. A magic monocle.
Monocle: inexplicably teleport host an indeterminate distance away, keeping host in local area yet removing host from circumstance of being surrounded. Inexplicably. Replace space previously occupied by host with chlorine tab powder and pool salt.
Alternatively, should eldritch consensus determine the previous hypothetical action be unfavorable, combust the stale beer of host's peers, redirecting their priorities from host to preserving beer and not being on fire. Creatures generally like not being on fire.
You know what, you would love to, but this isn't some legendary hero or level 27 metademonic entity you are usually used to. This is some dumb bimbo with a literature fetish. This is usually the kind of person that gets sacrificed to placate interstellar star gods, not fight them.
She doesn't have any dimensional manipulation abilities, fire breathe, pan-daemonic shapeshifting or anything. You don't know how she gets up in the morning.
You know what, you'd fucking love to, if this dumb bitch new anything about infinite devil symbols or something like that.
Hell, even a mirrored surface. You'd do anything for a mirrored surface right now. Now you're stuck in some backwater dimension with some airhead host body that's about to get torn a new one. But you bet they don't even have scrying mirrors here.
I mean, all you'd need is ONE FUCKING MIRRORED SURFACE and you could peace out back to the outer realms and do your job that you were summoned to do
SOMETHING SHINY EVEN, OR REFLECTIVE. OR SOMETHING. God you hate this job.
What the hell do you do you and your bimbo buddy do now?
> Gurrl, you best be flailin yo arms around, donchyu know that's the best solution to everythang? (Girl: Flail arms)
> Gurrl, if that works out you best be prepared to look absolutely STUNNIN. (Girl: If that works, pick up your shades so you don't have to look at these things)
> Gurrl, you best be flailin yo arms around, donchyu know that's the best solution to everythang? (Girl: Flail arms)
> Gurrl, if that works out you best be prepared to look absolutely STUNNIN. (Girl: If that works, pick up your shades so you don't have to look at these things)
ohgodohgodohgod
you have a strange compulsion... You don't even know what's going on anymore, but all you know is you totally HAVE TO GO OUT IN STYLE. YOU DIDN'T SPEND $300 ON THOSE FUCKING SHADES TO NOT SWAG SUPER HARD WHILE YOU DIE.
YOU LUNGE.
Originally Posted by Lurkmeister
Allison: Grab your shades. It's, like, imperative that you grab those shades. Erm, I mean, important! Imperative? What does that even mean?
Gog: The floor looks shiny. Or wet. Which counts as shiny.
HOPE
THIS
WORKS
you are the EYE OF GOG AGOG. You are pleased. Now THIS is something you can work with.
You may or may not be a NATURAL BLONDE. You DEFINITELY DON'T have a thing for literature. You are FUN AND PEPPY. You enjoy sunglasses. You are the assistant treasury secretary at your sorority.
LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR. I AM GOING TO HOPEFULLY HAVE THIS MOVED TO THE MAIN FORUM
THERE WILL BE A SMALL UPDATE BREAK WHILE THE AUTHOR DRINKS COFFEE AND NURSES HIS ACHING PAWS
(also Allison definitely didn't die, clearly you are unfamiliar with transcranial ego ballistics that are involved with dimension hopping. There's a lot of perfectly normal body exploding)
WAIT YOU'RE TELLING ME "YOU ARE A GIRL" ISN'T THE ACTUAL TITLE!? BLASPHEMY. MY ENTIRE LIFE SINCE I READ THIS IS A LIE.
But yeah, this is a pretty cool development. I enjoy what's been happening to now.
Last edited by Redux; 04-18-2012 at 10:59 PM.
Reason: whoa hey "until now" carries a lot more negative implications than I meant. I mean this is a great adventure.
Not that I'm implying that this thread is about to explode into thread-stuff viscera, reform and start over elsewhere, like how Gog and Allison just did when going elsewhere.
Hmm. Is that what happens to threads when they move forums / sections? Painfully explode and appear elsewhere by use of demonic magics?
(I think this is pretty neat so far and it'll be even cooler if it goes in a different direction than that one music video, the art is real cool too!).
> better get started on that. 6 billion demons aren't going to kill themselves, you know.
unless that's a talent you have that you haven't revealed yet. perhaps you can be unbearably peppy in the general vicinity of said demons and they'll cease to exist of their own accord? it's worth a shot.
Words, like, totally escape you right now. You're pretty sure you just exploded and were sucked into a hole of NOTHING but you're not sure. Entire civilizations rise and fall before your eyes. Horrible twisted visages curl their way across the netherscape, laughing with a billion tongues, on fire.
Originally Posted by Medea
> Compare current situation with that fantasy novel a blonde like you HAS NOT RECENTLY READ.
man this is just like that novel you read where you, like, exploded and hurtled through a horrible interdimensional hellscape WAIT NO ITS NOT
Originally Posted by Mibbs
Jump into the pool
y-you'd love to if you weren't slicing like a horrible shrieking flailing wet fish through the soggy places of reality
Originally Posted by Pemm
THIS THREAD IS GLORIOUS
SUMMON ELDRITCH WEAPONS FROM BEYOND THE PALE
AAAAaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
Originally Posted by Lurkmeister
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche: KILL GOD
Specifically, an interstellar star god.
oh look at that
oh wait you have company. Your small, wet, fragile tiny brain somehow manages to comprehend it
Originally Posted by OrangeAipom
PUT SOME CLOTHES ON YOU BITCH
YOU COULD FREEZE OUT IN THE WHITE VOID
Originally Posted by Armok
> Girl: find more suitable attire.
oh my god you are super underdressed for this right now
Nietzsche: Take pity on this underdressed and clearly inexperienced dimensional traveler by directing her towards a reality that will not instantly kill her.
>Ask the rather dashing fellow what the fuck is going on.
eeagggugghaaaaaaa! you whimper softly
it's pretty much all you can manage
You are Freidrich Wilhelm Nietzsche.
Originally Posted by Bloddyredcommie
Nietzsche: Take pity on this underdressed and clearly inexperienced dimensional traveler by directing her towards a reality that will not instantly kill her.
Originally Posted by Mibbs
Nietzsche: hit on allison
You toff your philter of VINTAGE 1397 META BRANDY, hoping she'll be persuaded to stop that dreadful shrieking. The lass has the look of the newly traveled about her personage, despite sporting the eye of Gog Agog, an unusually cruel but particularly resourceful fellow, as you well know. No such luck. Clearly she is in a dionysian flush, perhaps caught by a fit of hysteria.
Originally Posted by Moldova in Eurovision 2011
Nietzsche: Turn into a crocodile with the head of an ostrich then go MEEP MEEP MEEP MEEP MEEP and implode.
Certainly not. You are are a level 8 META-SOUL, and certainly capable of basical form stability, as any lackawit could observe. This young lady, however...
Gradually relax during the journey between dimensions
Perfect. You suppose you'll offer her some advice.
God is Dead, you say, simply, savoring the dark fire of the meta-Brandy and the beautiful bloody slash of the infinite ahead of you. Already her destination is materializing around you, inch by inch.
I was wrong to stop there, you continue, first, because this is common knowledge now. God died at the moment of His creation. I have slept in his corpse.
You take another draft.
But the real question, you say, and this is the real ringer, is what happens to God's house after he dies? Do the mice and the rats and the pitiful insects take over? Who keeps all the clocks running? Who cleans all the windows and oils all the door hinges? Who makes the tea?
Who is living in our poor deceased God's house now, my young friend?
Allison: arrive at a place where you can rest, even if only temporarily. Preferably a library, or somewhere you know, but any place without sorority demons would be nice. And without tentacles.
> Allison: Remember, a cool cat always lands on its feet.
> Allison: Be a cool cat. No, be the coolest cat. The cool cat. It is you-
Aww who are you kidding you are flipping the heck out and you will probably land face first
> Portal shenanigans: End suddenly
> Allison: Fall flat on face.
+1 reader who will probably just lurk around throwing wierd suggestions into the ring.
Of course, that's the best kind of reader.
>Land in a disgraceful heap in the center of some nutjob's pentagram in some universe that has yet to invent indoor plumbing.
This is an awesome adventure.
I would be delighted if I could just scrap this account and make a new one that doesn't have a stupid name. Sadly, there's a rule specifically stating I cannot. I could be happier about that.
in the process of LOADING you cycle through INFINITE ALLISONS. The process is quite disconcerting.
Originally Posted by Doorhandle
>Eye: So, what IS a metasoul anyway? Souls within souls? A.T feild? Fourth-wall damaging powers?
You are briefly the Eye of Gog Agog
You don't really have time to explain this right now as you are busy navigating your host through the dimensional folds, but you make a mental note to touch on it later. Maybe she can be taught SOMETHING.