#ModQuest2018

Isbjørn · 01-09-2019, 08:41 AM

Actual photo of me looking for my own username every time threads like this pop up

Oriphiel · 12-14-2019, 03:50 PM

I walked through the underworks, the mossy cobblestones hard and slick beneath my bare feet, like a Floridian methhead that's just caught the scent of an unattended pool toy with a vaguely vagina-shaped hole in it.

Darkness. The scent of blood. The distant roar of the crowd, a deep bass vibration, buzzing through me. My sword was slung low on my waist, scraping the stones beneath with every step, tearing through the darkness with a small wisp of bright sparks.

And then I remembered that I wasn't even wearing a sword.

The light ahead grew closer. Swelled. Enveloped me.

Even as my gaze fell to naught under the full fire of the morning sun, I kept walking. Kept breathing. Every breath matched to the rhythm of the crowd.

The cold stones became warm, soft sand. Like a blanket of pop tarts, when they're all het up just enough that they start getting all gooey, but you can still actually bite into them without getting a mouthful of flaming demon semen.

I raised a hand to the light. The world through my sun kissed retinas was a swirl of smeared colors, jittering flashes.

And as my vision slowly returned, I saw a shadow approaching from the other side of the pit.

My enemy. Smiling. The naked steel of his blade glowing bright against the pale sand. And his blade wasn't the only thing that was naked.

Tristan. That sexy ****ing bastard.

High above, the ceremonial gong was sounded. A call to silence.

And a figure stepped to the front of the royal box.

Exo.

"Weeeeelllllp," he shrugged. "Here we are. Doing the arena thing. I don't think I have t-"

Interrupting him with a cough, a figure approached him from behind. A middle aged woman carting a box of Pat Boone albums. "Excuse me? You buy records, right?"

He turned with a smile. "Sure!" he sang, firing up his wrist flamethrowers. "Whatchya got?"

She set the box on the counter, because there's a counter now. Deal with it. "What I've got are ten boxes of extremely important heirlooms that my mother trusted me with when she passed away. I think you're gonna like what you see." She leaned in with a wink. "They're first pressings."

He leaned in as well, raising his eyebrows. "Reaally?"

"Uh-huh! Anyway, here's the first set. Take a look. I was thinking maybe a few thousand for the entire collection, but if you wanna haggle, hey, I can maybe go down a little bit. I understand that a haul like this doesn't come in every day."

He spent three whole seconds flipping through the box. "Well ****," he grinned. "A haul indeed! Let me run some quick calculations." Pulling a pork roll out of his pocket, he slapped it against a calculator. "There we go. If I've got my numbers right, then your collection should be worth..." Pausing, he raised a hand to his chin in thought. "Damn. I was never very good with math. Can you help me out with this last part?"

"Oh sure. I love math. What do you need?"

"Can you tell me what you get when you divide Jack by Shit?"

Before the woman could so much as gasp, Exo let forth a stream of flames, enveloping both her and her treasured heirlooms in a dancing stream of fire.

"Well if they're not worth anything," screamed the flaming woman, "can you at least just take them off my hands and throw them away?"

Pulling out a jug of lighter fluid, he held it between his legs and gave it a good squeeze, shaking it around as he pissed out a line of fuel, spelling his name in the air and feeding the raging fire.

And then he was back at the balcony, taking a bite from his pork roll as he waved to the crowd. "Alright," he said through the mouthful of finely cooked processed foreskin. "Let's get on with this ****. You know the rules. Two men enter. One man leaves."

Flexing his oiled-up muscles, Tristan looked up at him with a glare. "Two men? Ain't that a bit gendered, fella?"

"Oops," said Exo. "Sorry. My bad." Clearing his throat, he started again "Two assholes enter. One asshole leaves." Picking a stray piece of eyeball out of his pork roll, he tossed it towards the combatants. "That better, ya' ****in' snowflake?"

Smiling happily enough, Tristan gave him an 'eh-good-enough' shrug.

"Great! Then go kill each other already."

We stepped towards each other.

I ripped off my shirt.

He had already taken his own off. But then he went back and put it back on, just so he could rip it off again.

We glared at each other as we moved in, carefully circling each other.

I took a grappler's stance, watching closely, preparing to strike. I had no weapon. I didn't need one.

With a smile, he threw his blade to the side, taking a stance of his own.

Our coiled muscles gleamed under the sun, thick cords of raw power, rolling beneath our skin like a million awkward boners, barely concealed by those pants that you knew were way too tight for you.

Someone from the crowd realized that they had accidentally forgotten to spread anything on the sandwich they'd packed. Jumping down into the pit, they carefully approached, slicing the air between us and cutting out a chunk of sexual tension. Lucky bastard was gonna eat like a king.

Seeing an opening at the same moment, we both acted on immediate instinct, surging towards each other. Every muscle exploded with power. Every tendon with energy. Our bones cracked as we contorted ourselves into horribly unnatural JoJo poses.

And the battle began.

And who, you may ask, proved the victor of that terrible battle?

Everyone. Every eye in the crowd, every soul blessed with privilege of having witnessed such a sight of pure beauty, was a winner that day.

But more specifically, me. I won. Ha ha.

**Marie Monday** · 12-14-2019, 04:07 PM

Good stuff, but dude, pronouns

The Batlord · 12-14-2019, 04:13 PM

Bro how do trans people who speak languages with gendered nouns feel?

Oriphiel · 12-14-2019, 04:14 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by MarieMarie

Good stuff, but dude, pronouns

Every person has a penis within, waiting to be unleashed. Therefore, masculine pronouns are always applicable.

**Marie Monday** · 12-14-2019, 04:27 PM

Oriphiel · 12-14-2019, 04:40 PM

*penis high-five*

The Batlord · 12-14-2019, 04:43 PM

According to Jurassic Park we're all female until an extra hormone is introduced, my ladies.

**Exo** · 12-14-2019, 04:57 PM

Taylor Ham > Pork Roll

DwnWthVwls · 12-14-2019, 05:00 PM

im disappointed in you.

01-09-2019, 08:41 AM	#31 (permalink)
Isbjørn cooler commie than elph Join Date: Sep 2012 Location: In a hole, help Posts: 2,811	Actual photo of me looking for my own username every time threads like this pop up __________________ fast(ml) Hear me play the guitar Look, mom! I got a journal

12-14-2019, 03:50 PM	#32 (permalink)
Oriphiel Ask me how! Join Date: Oct 2014 Location: The States Posts: 5,355	I walked through the underworks, the mossy cobblestones hard and slick beneath my bare feet, like a Floridian methhead that's just caught the scent of an unattended pool toy with a vaguely vagina-shaped hole in it. Darkness. The scent of blood. The distant roar of the crowd, a deep bass vibration, buzzing through me. My sword was slung low on my waist, scraping the stones beneath with every step, tearing through the darkness with a small wisp of bright sparks. And then I remembered that I wasn't even wearing a sword. The light ahead grew closer. Swelled. Enveloped me. Even as my gaze fell to naught under the full fire of the morning sun, I kept walking. Kept breathing. Every breath matched to the rhythm of the crowd. The cold stones became warm, soft sand. Like a blanket of pop tarts, when they're all het up just enough that they start getting all gooey, but you can still actually bite into them without getting a mouthful of flaming demon semen. I raised a hand to the light. The world through my sun kissed retinas was a swirl of smeared colors, jittering flashes. And as my vision slowly returned, I saw a shadow approaching from the other side of the pit. My enemy. Smiling. The naked steel of his blade glowing bright against the pale sand. And his blade wasn't the only thing that was naked. Tristan. That sexy ***ing bastard. High above, the ceremonial gong was sounded. A call to silence. And a figure stepped to the front of the royal box. Exo. "Weeeeelllllp," he shrugged. "Here we are. Doing the arena thing. I don't think I have t-" Interrupting him with a cough, a figure approached him from behind. A middle aged woman carting a box of Pat Boone albums. "Excuse me? You buy records, right?" He turned with a smile. "Sure!" he sang, firing up his wrist flamethrowers. "Whatchya got?" She set the box on the counter, because there's a counter now. Deal with it. "What I've got* are ten boxes of extremely important heirlooms that my mother trusted me with when she passed away. I think you're gonna like what you see." She leaned in with a wink. "They're first pressings." He leaned in as well, raising his eyebrows. "Reaally?" "Uh-huh! Anyway, here's the first set. Take a look. I was thinking maybe a few thousand for the entire collection, but if you wanna haggle, hey, I can maybe go down a little bit. I understand that a haul like this doesn't come in every day." He spent three whole seconds flipping through the box. "Well ***," he grinned. "A haul indeed! Let me run some quick calculations." Pulling a pork roll out of his pocket, he slapped it against a calculator. "There we go. If I've got my numbers right, then your collection should be worth..." Pausing, he raised a hand to his chin in thought. "Damn. I was never very good with math. Can you help me out with this last part?" "Oh sure. I love* math. What do you need?" "Can you tell me what you get when you divide Jack by Shit?" Before the woman could so much as gasp, Exo let forth a stream of flames, enveloping both her and her treasured heirlooms in a dancing stream of fire. "Well if they're not worth anything," screamed the flaming woman, "can you at least just take them off my hands and throw them away?" Pulling out a jug of lighter fluid, he held it between his legs and gave it a good squeeze, shaking it around as he pissed out a line of fuel, spelling his name in the air and feeding the raging fire. And then he was back at the balcony, taking a bite from his pork roll as he waved to the crowd. "Alright," he said through the mouthful of finely cooked processed foreskin. "Let's get on with this ***. You know the rules. Two men enter. One man leaves." Flexing his oiled-up muscles, Tristan looked up at him with a glare. "Two men?* Ain't that a bit gendered, fella?" "Oops," said Exo. "Sorry. My bad." Clearing his throat, he started again "Two assholes enter. One asshole leaves." Picking a stray piece of eyeball out of his pork roll, he tossed it towards the combatants. "That better, ya' ***in' snowflake?" Smiling happily enough, Tristan gave him an 'eh-good-enough' shrug. "Great! Then go kill each other already." We stepped towards each other. I ripped off my shirt. He had already taken his own off. But then he went back and put it back on, just so he could rip it off again. We glared at each other as we moved in, carefully circling each other. I took a grappler's stance, watching closely, preparing to strike. I had no weapon. I didn't need one. With a smile, he threw his blade to the side, taking a stance of his own. Our coiled muscles gleamed under the sun, thick cords of raw power, rolling beneath our skin like a million awkward boners, barely concealed by those pants that you knew* were way too tight for you. Someone from the crowd realized that they had accidentally forgotten to spread anything on the sandwich they'd packed. Jumping down into the pit, they carefully approached, slicing the air between us and cutting out a chunk of sexual tension. Lucky bastard was gonna eat like a king. Seeing an opening at the same moment, we both acted on immediate instinct, surging towards each other. Every muscle exploded with power. Every tendon with energy. Our bones cracked as we contorted ourselves into horribly unnatural JoJo poses. And the battle began. And who, you may ask, proved the victor of that terrible battle? Everyone. Every eye in the crowd, every soul blessed with privilege of having witnessed such a sight of pure beauty, was a winner that day. But more specifically, me. I won. Ha ha. __________________ ---------------------- \|---Mic's Albums---\| ---------------------- ----------------------------- \|---Deafbox Industries---\| -----------------------------

12-14-2019, 04:40 PM	#37 (permalink)
Oriphiel Ask me how! Join Date: Oct 2014 Location: The States Posts: 5,355	penis high-five __________________ ---------------------- \|---Mic's Albums---\| ---------------------- ----------------------------- \|---Deafbox Industries---\| -----------------------------

12-14-2019, 04:57 PM	#39 (permalink)
Exo All day jazz and biscuits Join Date: Feb 2010 Location: NJ Posts: 7,359	Taylor Ham > Pork Roll __________________ LastFM SUPREME POO BAH MODERATOR EXTRAORDINAIRE

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