Camptime With The Claspers

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 04:09:39 GMT

[16:31] <Jet> Box's midterms are apparently almost over
[16:31] <Jet> So he's gonna find my sword 8)
[16:31] <Jet> AND NOTHING ELSE
[16:34] <Belphegor> poor Yamamoto
[16:34] <Jet> yes
[16:34] <Jet> squalo was killed effortlessly
[16:34] <Jet> his world view! it is crushed!
[16:34] <Namine> XDD
[16:34] <Morrolan> ...Jet, my brain went to a terrible place before you clarified
[16:34] <Jet> wut
[16:35] <Belphegor> prolly finding Squalo's sword and nothing else
[16:35] <Morrolan> Added "in his bed" to the end of that--yes
[16:35] <Jet> kdlankdfa; hahahhahaha
[16:35] <Jet> MY SWORD KNOCKED YAMAMOTO UP
[16:35] <Belphegor> .......man, that'd be one stupid baby
[16:36] <Echo> HAHAHAHA
[16:36] <Echo> omg
[16:36] <Belphegor> aren't we awesome, Echo?
[16:36] <Jet> STUPIDEST BABY EVER
[16:36] <Echo> oh very
[16:36] <Richter^Abend> also the hottest baby ever
[16:37] <Sera> I imagine this little kid all
[16:37] <Sera> "IIIIIIIIIIII'MMMMMMMMMMMM GOOOOOOIIIIIIIING TOOOOOOOOOO PLAAAAAAAAY BAAAAAAASEBAAAAAAAAAALL"
[16:37] <Morrolan> 8)
[16:37] <Richter^Abend> fdjsafadfa
[16:37] <Echo> ADFJKADF omgsera
[16:37] <Richter^Abend> sera
[16:37] <Belphegor> HAHAHAH Sera
[16:37] <Jet> kljfndnfads.fmdlkjsfn
[16:37] <Richter^Abend> they'd probably be very sweet
[16:37] <Richter^Abend> and :D
[16:38] <Richter^Abend> and cute
[16:38] <Sera> maybe he'd play like
[16:38] <Richter^Abend> but when they threw a tantrum
[16:38] <Sera> water polo instead
[16:38] <Sera> to rebel
[16:38] <Richter^Abend> WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEREEEEEEEEEEEEEE'S MYYYYYYYYYYYYYY JUUUIIIIIIIIIIIICEEEEEEEEEEEE
[16:38] <Echo> omg this kid
[16:38] <Sera> y'know what makes it better?
[16:38] <Sera> if they had a daughter.
[16:38] <Echo> HAHA
[16:38] <Belphegor> yesssssss
[16:39] <Sera> DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD IF YOU DON'T LET ME GO TO THE PROM WITH A STRAPLESS DRESS I'LL KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILL YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
[16:39] <Jet> kfasndsss
[16:39] <Sera> the night before the prom the Varia base is destroyed
[16:39] <Jet> HEEEEEEEEEEEEY NO CHILD OF MINE'S GOING OUT DRESSED LIKE THAAAAAAAAAAT
[16:39] <Jet> OR ELSE ALL YOUR ALLOWANCE WILL COME FROM STREET WALKIIIIIIIIIING
[16:39] <Sera> "YOU LOOK LIKE A WHOOOOOOOOOOORE" "I GUESS YOU'D KNOOOOOOOOW, AND STOP STEALING MY SHAAAAMPOOOOO!"
[16:40] <Sera> "ha ha ha! You look pretty tonight"
[16:40] <Jet> WE SHARE SHAMPOO IN THIS HOOOOOOOUSE- SHUT THE FUCK UP KATANA BRAAAAAAAAT!
[16:40] <Sera> the most magical family
[16:40] <Jet> QUIT ENCOURAGING HIIIIIIIIIIM
[16:40] <Jet> we're a blast at neighbourhood barbeques
[16:40] <Namine> STOP FUCKING DRINKIIIIIIING EVERY NIIIIIIIGHT
[16:40] <Jet> QUIT STEALING ALL MY BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERS
[16:41] <Namine> WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOOUUUUUTH
[16:41] <Jet> NOW GET OVER HERE AND HELP YOUR FATHER WITH THIS FUCKING PILLOW FOOOOOOOOOOOOOORT
[16:41] <Klavier> what have I rewindowed to
[16:41] <Jet> the Squalomoto house
[16:41] <Zuko> ...I was wondering the same thing
[16:41] <Zuko> hold me Klavier ;;
[16:41] * Klavier HOLDS ZUKO
[16:42] <Echo> LMAO
[16:42] <Echo> this is beautifil
[16:42] <Echo> ...beautiful
[16:43] <Richter^Abend> i have to say though
[16:43] <Richter^Abend> their kid?
[16:43] <Richter^Abend> hottest thing ever
[16:43] <Jet> hell yeah
[16:44] <Jet> good killing genes, too
[16:44] <Jet> since yamamoto is a NATURAL ASSASSIN!
[16:44] <Sera> lots of hereditary shanking
[16:44] <Jet> some babies kick in the womb
[16:44] <Jet> this one stabs

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 01:25:57 GMT

MASQUE: You gasp upon awaking. Air comes flooding back into your chest, as if this were the first breath you have taken in hours. There is a pounding headache beating a tattoo on your skull, the possible cause escapes you at the moment. The fluorescent lights overhead blind you momentarily and you blink back the haze fogging your vision.
MASQUE: As you sit up, rubbing your head, you recall how you got here. The last thing you remember is being killed in the game -- actually KILLED, as in fully DEAD. But you've awoken here, staring up at a water-stained ceiling, and on the most uncomfortable cot imaginable. Maybe you should look around to get a feel of where you might be.
SQUALO: I yell loudly for a few minutes, which does nothing for my headache, then sit up and look around.
MASQUE: You call out into the darkness, but no one replies, because you are a dick.
MASQUE: You blink to clear your vision and the room slowly comes in to better focus. A dim emergency light flickers above you, illuminating the room, but just barely. To your right is another cot with what looks to be fresh blood staining its pillow, and to your left there is a dilapidated desk. In front of you is a door leading to the hallway with a metal grating over its window.
SQUALO: I check myself - am I missing anything?
MASQUE: You have nothing but the clothes you were wearing when you "died."
SQUALO: I curse loudly for another minute over my missing blade and boxes.
SQUALO: Then I go over and kick the desk once out of frustration.
MASQUE: The desk kicks back. It is not for kicking, it is for examining.
SQUALO: More cursing.
SQUALO: I walk over and take a closer look at the top of the desk.
MASQUE: The desk is stained with some dark, unknown fluid and missing almost all of its drawers. The remaining drawer has been left partly ajar.
SQUALO: I wrench the one drawer open.
MASQUE: You tug hard at the drawer and find a dead flashlight and a package of unused batteries. Oh yeah, these will definitely come in handy.
MASQUE: The innocent drawer breaks. Good job.
SQUALO: I showed that drawer who's boss.
SQUALO: I replace the flashlight's dead batteries, but don't turn it on. If there are remaining batteries, I drop them in a coat pocket.
MASQUE: What the -- there's already something inside? You can't fit the batteries in while it's still there. You tip the flashlight over to pour whatever it is into your hand and find a small metal key with a label.
SQUALO: I read the label.
MASQUE: It reads, "KEEP AWAY FROM TEST SUBJECTS." Considering you're currently locked into a cold, damp cell and have no idea how you got there, this is not a very reassuring note.
SQUALO: I mutter to myself about that "test subjects" line and head over to the second bed, the one with the fresh blood on it. Are there any pillows, blankets or anything else there?
MASQUE: That's fresh blood, all right. When you put your fingers to the pillow, they come back wet and red. You may have a killer headache, but you're pretty sure that blood isn't yours...
MASQUE: Wait -- there's a note on this cot! It's a bit stained, like the rest of the bed, but still legible.
MASQUE: "HEY. I'M THE ONE WHO BROUGHT YOU TO THIS ROOM. I'M BUSY ESCORTING SOMEONE ELSE RIGHT NOW. JUST TRUST ME AND STAY PUT.
MASQUE: - L"
MASQUE: The lunatic who locked you in here is telling you to stay put? You discard the note and choose to ignore his "advice." You're not an idiot.
SQUALO: No one tells Superbi Squalo what to do, anyways. Except for XANXUS.
SQUALO: I look around the room again, seeing if there's anything I can use. Is there anything that can be broken off easily to use as a weapon?
MASQUE: There's nothing that can be used as a weapon around here.
SQUALO: Damn.
SQUALO: I go over to the door and see if the key works on it.
MASQUE: Probably cursing loudly, you insert the key and twist it. You hear a mechanical click inside the lock -- you've done it! The door is now unlocked. Since you no longer need it, you decide to leave the Disused Cell Room key is inside the desk; hopefully the next poor soul trapped in here can figure things out and escape with it, or maybe rot for good here. You don't give a shiiiiit.
MASQUE: The emergency light flickers out as you make your way over to the desk to leave the key. Cursing silently, you move to switch on your flashlight -- wait. Wait. You hear something just outside the door. As a wave of something putrid rolls over the room, you realize you can smell it, too.
MASQUE: Do you still want to switch on your flashlight?
SQUALO: Fuck yeeeeah!
MASQUE: If someone -- or someTHING with a violent intent is waiting out there, you're not going to deal with it in the dark. You switch on the light and shine it through the grate, but whatever is out there manages to duck out of sight the moment the flashlight's beam passes over it. You can still hear its heavy breath; the long exhale out is accompanied by a loud, sharp rattling that makes you shiver. After a tense moment, the creatur
MASQUE: You wait until the footsteps fade completely away before exiting your cell.
MASQUE: +1 bravery
MASQUE: You step out into the pitch-black hallway, sweeping your flashlight beam over the floor and walls. Each side is lined with heavily padlocked doors that match your own cell's. Why wasn't your room chained on the outside like the others?
MASQUE: The creature went left. The hallways continues to your right. What path do you take?
SQUALO: I'm chasing that fucker down. To the left.
MASQUE: You grip your flashlight tightly. You're no coward. Whatever that thing was, you're confident in your ability to take it if the situation calls for it. But first you'll need a weapon, because while you might not be a coward, you're no idiot, either. You'll take the path to the right first to find something suitably strong enough to bash in a few heads.
MASQUE: +1 bravery
MASQUE: You walk slowly down the hallway, listening for the slightest creak and searching for the smallest movement of shadow. After a few minutes, you reach a dead-end. A large pile of concrete rubble and destroyed furniture blocks you from continuing down the hall. To your right is a door broken off its hinges.
SQUALO: I check the pile for anything I can use as a weapon.
MASQUE: You take the time to look through the rubble for anything useful. You spot a large armchair with a heavy leg almost broken completely off.
MASQUE: Pulling hard, you succeed in snapping the leg off. It won't stand up to excessive abuse, but it's a worthwhile enough weapon.
MASQUE: + 1 bravery, + 1 tact, + 1 resourcefulness
SQUALO: Damn, I rock. I consider attaching the leg to my sword arm, but then decide it's not worth it. Instead, I just carry it in my robotic sword hand and head into the room with the broken door, checking for any surprises.
MASQUE: The broken door leads into a small office. Sweeping the room with your flashlight, you see shelves upon shelves of broken and cracked jars of preserved... collectively, you could call it biological matter, and that gives you a sick feeling at the pit of your stomach.
MASQUE: Two pieces of whole furniture remain in the room. One is a large desk, engraved with arcane symbols and a strange motif you can't place. A large computer rests on its side beside the desk, along with several piles of crumpled notes and papers. Behind the desk is a large oil painting covered in a suspicious layer of grime.
MASQUE: As your flash light travels across the room, you discover the other remaining piece of furniture. An ornately carved wooden podium sits in the far corner. On top of it lies a completely severed head under a glass case.
MASQUE: You nearly drop your flashlight and bile rises up in your throat. Do you vomit at the sight?
MASQUE: of course you don't
SQUALO: Fuck no.
SQUALO: Vomiting is for pussies.
SQUALO: I head over to the podium to see if there's an open side at the back, and if there's anything in it.
MASQUE: You swallow against the rise of vomit. You've seen worse in camp -- seen worse since starting this game, even. This is nothing, you keep telling yourself. I can handle this.
MASQUE: +1 bravery
MASQUE: You go back to examining the room.
MASQUE: The podium holds nothing but the severed head.
SQUALO: What does the head look like? Do I recognize it?
MASQUE: It's a head. If you squint a bit, you can pretend it's the Tenth's.
SQUALO: HA!
SQUALO: ...I squint a little harder. That's not actually Sawada's brat, right?
MASQUE: It's not, but now you have a wonderful image to carry in your heart forever.
SQUALO: I feel slightly warmer now that I have that thought.
SQUALO: I walk over to the shelves. Is there anything there other than the jars?
MASQUE: It's readily apparent that a significant amount of time went in to organizing these specimens. Complete labels are still legible on the jars that have been merely cracked. Broken jars cover the lower shelves, organs and small animals left to rot on the floor. If you get close enough, the faint smell of formaldehyde is still in the air.
SQUALO: As usual, I check for anything I can use as a weapon.
MASQUE: Unless you feel like using someone's liver, you're shit out of luck.
SQUALO: All that leaves now is the desk and the painting. I head over to the painting first, shoving it to see if there's anything behind it.
MASQUE: The painting is covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, but you're still able to make out that it's a portrait of an older gentleman. The plaque at the bottom reads "EMERIL SAYRE, CEO." Realization dawns: wherever, whatever this place is, you're still in a location that's connected to Camp Fuck You Die. Whether this a good thing or a bad thing, well. You'll investigate that later.
MASQUE: The portrait is lopsided. Shining your flashlight over it again, you spot something metal almost hidden behind its frame.
MASQUE: You lift the portrait off the wall and discover a small metal safe behind it that's been sealed with a combination lock, which is pretty damn cliche. But maybe the combination is close by? What haven't you examined yet? What can you reexamine?
SQUALO: I think hard for a minute.
SQUALO: I think hard for another minute, this time not about swords.
SQUALO: ...oh, right, the cluttered desk with the computer.
SQUALO: Let's check that out.
MASQUE: The desk looks like it was once a treasured antique. Now it looks better off being firewood for next winter. A quick examination of the drawers reveals nothing but an old bottle of whiskey and Pepto-Bismal. There's no combination here.
MASQUE: The monitor has been kicked in. Even if you did have a power supply, this computer would be of little use to you.
MASQUE: The papers are too stained and crumbled to be legible. You're only able to make out the largest headers of the memos, each along the lines of UNSAFE WORKPLACE CONDITIONS, or VACCINATIONS NOW MANDATORY. You recognize a few names in some of the papers. "From the desk of CEO Sayre," and "Ms. Sayre recommends the destruction of the lower labs to prevent the spread, but I believe..."
MASQUE: Damn it. You wish you could make out more information.
SQUALO: I check any drawers on the desk.
MASQUE: A quick examination of the drawers reveals nothing but an old bottle of whiskey and Pepto-Bismal.
SQUALO: I take the whiskey.
SQUALO: I consider kicking the desk for being so unhelpful.
MASQUE: The desk collapses. What did it ever do to you?
SQUALO: Superbi Squalo doesn't need a reasooooon!
SQUALO: I check the collapsed desk for any possible weapons. Weapons good.
MASQUE: The desk yields nothing. It's the furniture equivalent of "fuck you."
SQUALO: Goddamn desks, the only thing they ever do is get splinters in your thighs.
SQUALO: I consider taking apart the computer for any large, sharp bits.
MASQUE: The computer yields nothing.
SQUALO: Damn.
SQUALO: I look around the room again for anything I might have missed.
MASQUE: You have yet to examine the head again.
SQUALO: I head back over to the podium, shining the flashlight directly at the head.
MASQUE: The head looks -- for lack of a better word -- still fresh. Considering the state of moldering ruin of all the rooms you have encountered so far, its appearance strikes you as bizarre. Looking more closely, you realize there's a small strip of paper in its open mouth.
SQUALO: I pull off my glove, roll up my sleeve - they're fucking LEATHER - and stick my hand right in there for it.
MASQUE: FUCK THIS NOISE, you lift the glass case up and off that fucker and stick your hand right into it's gaping maw -- that wasn't your imagination, that head's lips just moved.
MASQUE: You snatch your hand and the strip of paper back just in time. The head's rotted and cracked teeth snap sharply together, its gnarled face twisting with sudden life. A low groan escapes between gritted teeth before it opens its mouth fully, the head's wails quickly becoming deafening as they ricochet off the walls of the small room. If it keeps screaming this loudly --!
SQUALO: I punch the head right in the mouth.
SQUALO: FUCK THIS NOISE, INDEED.
MASQUE: You beat the shit out of the head, effectively muting the abomination. What is this? How is it still alive? Was it the head of a zombie? So many questions, and all you have to show for this horror is a strip of paper.
SQUALO: I look at the paper. It had better have something useful on it.
MASQUE: The paper reads "I fucked your mother." You flip it over. The other half reads "20, 31, 16." That has to be the combination.
SQUALO: I snicker at that line and head over to the safe to try the combination.
MASQUE: Carefully, you twist the lock to the proper combination sequence. With a click, the safe opens.
MASQUE: Inside you find... nothing. It's trash! Who puts these kind of things in a locked and hidden (albeit clichély) safe? Shifting through the safe, you find potato chip bags, candy wrappers, empty soda cans... wait. What's that in the very back?
MASQUE: You poke and prod enough to reveal that, taped to the back of the safe, is a map of the Underground Sayre Laboratory. Okay, you grin. This was worth the effort. Do you want to examine it?
SQUALO: Yeeeeah, I do!
MASQUE: http://img245.imageshack.us/img245/2500/labmap.jpg
MASQUE: ... hm. There's an emergency exit to the north. Getting to it means crossing a long distance, through many halls and large rooms with such ominous names... but you have to do it. You're not letting yourself remain in this underground prison indefinitely. Steeling yourself, you then backtrack through the dark hallways to the front of your prison door.
MASQUE: This time, will you go right or left?
SQUALO: To the left, still remembering that's where I heard someone or something run off.
MASQUE: You have finished the first half of the text adventure game. For the remained of the evening you will be locked into the UNKNOWN room with several of your peers. Tomorrow evening the game shall continue and finish in the cafeteria.
MASQUE: http://cfuw-shepherd.livejournal.com/51348.html#comments

MASQUE: Following the map, you reach the end of the long hallway corridor. The walls here have been splattered with something unidentifiable in this eerie light... a large steel door is ajar to your right.
MASQUE: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v30/BizTheInsane/lab1.jpg
SQUALO: I check the wall splatter closer.
SQUALO: Is it blood?
MASQUE: Your hand comes away wet with something red and sticky.
SQUALO: I consider licking it for a moment, but then I remember that I'm too old for that sort of thing and head off to the right.
MASQUE: You step lightly into the room, flashlight at the ready to brain something, just in case. From the technology scattered around the place, you gather you're now in the abandoned laboratory indicated on the map. To your left is a large window with the blinds pulled down; an artificial but very bright light peeks through its mangled shutters. More jars with preserved fluids and limbs lined the damaged shelves.
MASQUE: You wrinkle your nose. A foul stench is permeating the air and seems to originate from a large locker to your right. Next to the locker is a low table with five flasks, each labeled with a letter from A to E.
MASQUE: Behind you is the door you came in from. Straight ahead is the door out of this bright, stinky place.
SQUALO: I open the locker to see what's causing the stink.
MASQUE: You yank upon the locker and stand to the side of it, keeping out of sight, just in case. Three large body bags fall out with a loud wet thump. There is no further movement from any of them.
MASQUE: +1 bravery
SQUALO: I consider rummaging through the body bags for anything useful.
MASQUE: This is the sickest treasure hunt you've ever been on. Covering your nose to mask the stench, you slowly zip open the first bag and find a man naked to at least his waist (you're not about to pull that zipper down farther). A thick layer of hair covers his entire body, almost like his own fur coat. The rotting flesh in his sunken chest has become little more than a murky hair soup.
MASQUE: A large buckshot wound in his forehead ensures he won't be sitting up any time soon.
MASQUE: +1 bravery
SQUALO: I'm Italian, I've seen hairier. Do I find anything else in either of the other bags?
MASQUE: You zip open the second bag and find a young woman. Back when her jaw was attached to her face, instead of being clutched in her broken nails, she was probably considered to be rather pretty. Her own long black hair has been tightly wrapped her throat and hands, cutting into her decaying flesh.
MASQUE: An ice pick with a broken handle has been stabbed into the middle of her skull.
MASQUE: +1 bravery
SQUALO: Can I take the ice pick?
MASQUE: SCHLINK. You pull out the ice pick with a loud pop. Maggots froth up from the newly opened hole.
MASQUE: +1 resourcefulness
SQUALO: I kick her aside and open the third bodybag.
MASQUE: You zip open the final bag and find a bearded scientist with open, glazed over eyes. Unlike the other two, he is still fully clothed, and a crumbled piece of paper sticks out of his labcoat pocket. Also unlike the other two, he has yet to begin to rot.
MASQUE: +1 bravery
SQUALO: I take the paper and look at it.
MASQUE: You snatch the paper out of the coat pocket... good. At least this time there's no wailing or gnashing of teeth from a dead person.
MASQUE: +1 bravery
MASQUE: The paper seems to be torn out of a chemical guide. Skimming over it, the corrosive substances guide seems relevant:
MASQUE: A: H2SO4
MASQUE: B: HNO3
MASQUE: C: HCl
MASQUE: D: NaOH
MASQUE: E: KOH
MASQUE: "Nitric acid and hydrochloric acid seem to make the best corrosive substance when mixed."
SQUALO: This looks like something scientific. I shove it in my pocket for now; it might be useful if I run into a nerd.
SQUALO: Can I rummage through his pockets?
MASQUE: All you find are pens and gum.
SQUALO: I take the gum.
MASQUE: It smells minty.
SQUALO: Is it the freshmaker?
MASQUE: Doublemint.
SQUALO: Aww yeeeeah. I pocket it.
SQUALO: Is there anything else in the locker?
MASQUE: The locker is empty.
SQUALO: I go over to the window and push the blinds away. Where's that light coming from?
MASQUE: Peeking through the blinds, you find yourself looking at least two stories down into what could have once been a well-kept indoor garden. It is now an unkept jungle filled with the shambling undead. You immediately step back from the blinds to avoid being seen; you're not in the mood to pick a fight.
SQUALO: I look at the jars on the damaged shelves. Anything besides limbs?
MASQUE: Broken glass and decaying limbs are everywhere. You swear that the jellied eyes in that jar over there are staring down at you.
SQUALO: I punch them.
MASQUE: The eyes are now a pile of mush.
MASQUE: They can judge you no more.
SQUALO: Ha!
SQUALO: I showed those dismembered fuckeeeers!
SQUALO: I check to see if any of the broken glass is thick, long and sharp enough to be used as a weapon, but I don't expect much.
MASQUE: The glass is thin and easily breakable. It won't make a very good weapon.
SQUALO: Damn.
SQUALO: I find myself staring at the flasks. It's like my brain is trying to tell me something...
SQUALO: Something...not about swords...or yelling...
MASQUE: Your brain slowly begins to fry.
MASQUE: You have yet to examine the flasks or the door.
SQUALO: I examine the door, although the flasks keep pulling at my thoughts.
MASQUE: You try to open the far door. but find that a strong padlock keeps you from twisted the doorknob. Is there a way to break it? What haven't you examined yet in the laboratory?
MASQUE: A small note is taped to the door itself.
SQUALO: I look at the small note.
MASQUE: "I'M COMING BACK FOR YOU.
MASQUE: - L"
SQUALO: Fuck thaaaaat! I kick the door in frustration.
MASQUE: The door refuses to yield. Sonofabitch door.
MASQUE: It's acting just like Yamamoto's asshole.
SQUALO: I don't think spit will do the trick here, either.
SQUALO: I go check out the flasks.
MASQUE: Five flasks are lined up haphazardly, out of alphabetical order, on a low table. Each is labelled a different letter, A through E. A small guide has been taped down to the table besides them.
SQUALO: Something in my brain is screaming at me, which is annoying and keeping me from remembering some awesome sword fights I've had.
SQUALO: I look at the small guide.
MASQUE: The guide has been eaten away by chemicals in odd places, but you can make most of the writing out.
MASQUE: "A: sulf ic a d
MASQUE: B: n tr c cid
MASQUE: C: hy ro h oric a i
MASQUE: D: s ium yd o ide
MASQUE: E: p t s ium hy oxc e"
SQUALO: Huh. Just a bunch of gibberish.
MASQUE: Your pea-sized brain remembers the chemical notes you got off that dead scientist loser.
SQUALO: I pull out that paper and compare it to the one on the table.
SQUALO: After five minutes of terrible flashbacks to Sister Caterina's chemistry class, something clicks.
SQUALO: I check the paper a few more times as I reach for flask b.
MASQUE: Flask B seems terrified of you.
SQUALO: As well it should beeeee!
SQUALO: I pick up Flash C in the other hand and walk over to the door.
SQUALO: I pour B into C.
SQUALO: ...after checking the paper again on the desk.
MASQUE: Following the guide, you mix flask B and C together to form a highly corrosive acid. Noxious fumes bubble up as the chemicals mix -- better use this mess on something quick before it eats away the flask.
MASQUE: +1 tact
SQUALO: I dump it over the padlock.
MASQUE: You pour the entire flask on to the padlock and watch as it bubbles and eats away the solid metal barring the door. You are now able to exit the room.
SQUALO: For science, that was pretty bitchin'.
SQUALO: I exit the room.
MASQUE: Cautiously, you enter into the new hallway. It's pitch-black and your only light source is once again your flashlight. The laboratory door locks behind you with a loud click, prevent any future backtracking through rooms past the laboratory for now.
MASQUE: To your right is a wall with wallpaper peeling down in long, gnarled strips. Across from you is a bathroom with its sturdy door still securely attached. It doesn't look locked. To your left looks like the rest of the hallway; as you shine your flashlight down the hall, you hear a sudden shriek from that direction.
MASQUE: Do you investigate the noise or hide in the bathroom?
SQUALO: I investigate like I'm on CSI, baby.
MASQUE: You've got a flashlight (and a chair leg and an ice pick). Whatever is causing that hideous noise, you're positive you can take them or die trying. As you ready your weapon, a creature slowly crawls its way into the thin beam of light the flashlight provides, and you recognize what is immediately: you're dealing with a zombie.
MASQUE: +1 bravery
MASQUE: The meat and skin of its entire body has been flayed. You're able to see the broken bones that barely support the creature as it crawls towards you, shrieking and moaning all the while. Long claws -- fingernails? the actual bones of the fingers? -- reach towards you to grab at your clothing and bring you down to its level for a bite.
MASQUE: Do you fight or run away?
SQUALO: I punch or kick it in the face.
MASQUE: With the creature a dispatched and bloody mess, you move forward down the hallway only to be blocked by rubble and a collapsed set of stairs leading downward.
MASQUE: Examine the map?
SQUALO: I stomp on the zombie's head for good measure and pull out the map.
MASQUE: +1 bravery for kicking ass
MASQUE: You examine your map for a route and discover that the bathroom you passed earlier has a vent that connects to a bathroom that hopefully connects to a cleared space.
SQUALO: Awesome. But first, I wanna peel that wallpaper in the hall some more and see if there's anything interesting there.
MASQUE: It comes down in long, greasy strips. It's covered in dust and other signs of age.
MASQUE: There are heavy gouges taken out of the plaster. Dark red marks freckle the surface.
SQUALO: Wait, let's investigate that rubble down the hall.
SQUALO: Who knows what's in there?
MASQUE: It's only stonework and concrete. Nothing salvageable here.
SQUALO: Bathroom it is, then.
MASQUE: Cracked tile lines the floors. You examine where the toilet used to be. There are more papers here, slightly wet and sticky from... something. How disgusting. Above the dirty plumbing hole is a small vent, just big enough to fit an adult male through. There is also a broken sink next to the door, completely removed from the wall.
SQUALO: I nudge the paper around with my boot. Any writing on these?
MASQUE: The paper is too wet to contain anything legible.
SQUALO: Thought as much. I check the broken sink.
MASQUE: The sink looks disgusting, but despite being broken it off, it still looks sturdy enough to stand on.
SQUALO: I check the door.
MASQUE: It is a door. It probably hates you.
SQUALO: I hate it, too.
SQUALO: I look down the plumbing hole, just in case someone helpfully stuck a gun down there.
SQUALO: Or maybe a comb.
MASQUE: You find a pile of moldy shit.
SQUALO: Nasty.
SQUALO: I pull the sink over.
MASQUE: You drag the sink over to under the vent, and it's enough to reach the vent and pull yourself inside.
MASQUE: +1 resourcefulness
SQUALO: I hope my hair fits inside the vent.
MASQUE: You pull yourself up into the vent, coughing as dust and cobwebs assaulted your face. You crawl slowly through the vent, moving through dips and slants upward, turning corners, both left and right, until you reach the end of the vent. With some effort, you're able to push off the grate covering it and drop yourself down into another bathroom, this one even more sparse than the first.
MASQUE: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v30/BizTheInsane/Me_in_Silent_Hill.jpg
SQUALO: This bloooows.
SQUALO: I take out the map and look at it again.
SQUALO: I go over to the bathroom door and open it, standing to the side to keep out of eyesight.
MASQUE: Once out of the bathroom, you check your surroundings. According to the map, you are now just one hallways and a few rooms away from accessing the emergency exit in the cafeteria. The corridor continues down in front of you, and while the other doors in the hall have been padlocked, one door is swung wide open to your left.
MASQUE: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v30/BizTheInsane/KPPCExplorer.jpg
SQUALO: I look into the room on the left.
MASQUE: You cautiously enter the side room. Several large ovens line the walls, but they do not obscure the large frosted window through which an artificial and bright light pours in.
MASQUE: A small ring of struggling plants grows in an undisturbed mound of dirt in the center of the room.
MASQUE: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v30/BizTheInsane/Secret_Groove_by_Lord0Sauro.jpg
SQUALO: I sneer at the plants, but decide it's not worth my time and continue forward towards the cafeteria.
MASQUE: You finally reach the door to the cafeteria. In the distance, you hear the shattering of glass. Suddenly feeling pressed for time, you pull at the cafeteria doors only to find them well-locked. You move to retrace your steps, hoping to find another path in -- zombies are now filling into the hall you just passed through. At least twenty -- no, fifty of the monsters are approaching you in a fast gait. You're trapped.
MASQUE: Open-ended question: How do you react?
SQUALO: I ready the chair leg. Let's kill some undead motherfuckeeeeeeers!
SQUALO: I guess I should ready the ice pick, too.
MASQUE: Clenching your teeth, you ready your limited weapons. You are ready to kick some assssss!
SQUALO: YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
MASQUE: The noise of a shotgun suddenly rings out. What the -- squinting your eyes through the dark, you see a -- some goddamn lunatic is shooting zombies' heads off left and right. You cannot fucking believe it. They're taking your kill!
SQUALO: FUCKEEEEEEEER!
MASQUE: The lone man runs up to you, still blasting approaching zombies out of the way with this twelve gauge. "COME WITH ME IF YOU WANT TO LIVE, FUCKER."
SQUALO: "HEEEEEEEEEY, WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU AAAAAAAARE?!"
MASQUE: "I'M THE FUCKING LOUDSPEAKER."
MASQUE: end

STUFF: flashlight, chair leg, ice pick, map, whiskey, gum
STATS: +10 bravery, +2 tact, +3 resourcefulness

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 03:28:33 GMT

L:FDJ"SNFSLFD"KGDM:LSFDJ"KJSN:SAWPO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HOLY BALLS

CHAPTER 258

SQUALO!

SQUALO!!!

SQUALOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

CHAPTER 258

Fri, 26 Jun 2009 09:07:15 GMT

I MAY JUST ENJOY QUEEN MORE THAN IS HEALTHY
NOW WITH 100% MORE YOUTUBE

...some of these probably make more sense in my head

THE VERY BEGINNING:
Dying Will Bullet: Misfire

MAIN VONGOLA:
Group: We Are The Champions
Tsuna: Bohemian Rhapsody
Gokudera: Fight From The Inside
Yamamoto: Rain Must Fall
Ryohei: Don't Stop Me Now
Hibari: Another One Bites The Dust
Mukuro: The Invisible Man
Lambo: The Hero

THE LADIES:
Bianchi: The Hitman
I-Pin: Headlong
Haru: Crazy Little Thing Called Love
Kyoko: Friends Will Be Friends

KOKUYOU:
Group: Put Out The Fire
Chrome: Sail Away Sweet Sister
Chikusa: Don't Try So Hard
Ken: Dog With A Bone

VARIA:
Group: Seven Seas of Rhye
XANXUS: Gimme The Prize
Squalo: Hammer To Fall
Bel: Princes Of The Universe
Lussuria: Body Language
Levi: Dead On Time
Mammon: Death On Two Legs

ARCOBALENO:
Group: We Will Rock You
Reborn: Flick Of The Wrist
Colonnello: Rock It (Prime Jive)
Lal: Dragon Attack

ALLIES:
Dino: Keep Yourself Alive
Dr Shamal: Get Down, Make Love
Longchamp: Fat-Bottomed Girls
Spanner: Machines
Shouichi: Under Pressure

MILLEFIORE:
Byakuran: I Want It All

IT'S MUTUAL:
Boss/Subordinates: I Was Born To Love You
Lambo/I-Pin: These Are The Days Of Our Lives
Mukuro & Chrome: Now I'm Here

THIS IS FOR YOU:
Haru --> Tsuna: Hijack My Heart
Tsuna --> Kyoko: She Makes Me
Gokudera --> Tsuna: Save Me
Yamamoto --> Tsuna: You're My Best Friend
Yamamoto --> Gokudera: Play The Game
Colonello --> Lal: It's A Hard Life
Lal --> Colonello: It's Late
Shouichi --> Byakuran: I Want To Break Free
Everyone --> TYL!Tsuna: No One But You

DON'T JUDGE ME

Thu, 30 Apr 2009 20:04:08 GMT

Lal Mirch: HOMG ARCOBALENO \\\\\o//////
HOMG THIS MEANS THAT SOME TIME, SOME WHERE, VIPER HAS HAD PMS
Squalo: HAHAHHAHAHAHA
Lal Mirch: I am just sayin
Squalo: sob
I'm thinking of Lal and Viper and Luce all SYNCING UP
Lal Mirch: fffff
Squalo: for a few days every month, colonello can't sit down
8|
Lal Mirch:: sdklfsafhahahaa
HE LIKES IT, HEY

SEE VIPER FOR MORE HILARIOUS KER-GIRLING

Fri, 24 Apr 2009 06:07:01 GMT

YAMAMOTO TAKESHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OUT HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE

THIS IS SO VERY LONG OVERDUE

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 02:32:17 GMT

Squalo's feelings about Yamamoto are deep and complex and varied:

Squalo is the Second Sword Emperor and he's going to be the Second Sword Emperor until His Time Has Come, at which point Yamamoto will fight him and kill him in a fucking badass fight and then Yamamoto will become the Third Sword Emperor. So Yamamoto better keep fucking trying to be the best until he can kill Squalo.

Any attempts to deviate from these plans will result in rapings and more rapings.

The End.

[IC THREADS CONTINUATION]

Wed, 14 Jan 2009 21:52:56 GMT

[HOW MUCH IS THIS JUST GOING TO BE FIGHT THREADS, SERIOUSLY]

Fri, 25 Jan 2008 08:25:26 GMT

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY, KATANA BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!

Sat, 19 Jan 2008 20:29:27 GMT

OKAY so I have this thing where I play LIKE MAD for a bit and then I flit off on my own for a bit. It's a wonderful circle of failing to the extreeeeeme.

So this post is for YOU to tell me if I have business to finish with you! A thread we never finished, a post I need to make, a fight I need to do, hot making out that needs to happen, etc! I have a really bad memory, guys, and this will help me keep track of what I need to do tomorrow and the next week and so on and so forth. (Today I am CLEANING OUT THE ATTIC and tonight we're celebrating my father's birthday a day early).

What do you want/need your characters to do with Jennifer/Dan Hiri/Catherine/Jet/Squalo? AUs, tournament fights, regular threads, anything!

Sun, 16 Dec 2007 23:05:35 GMT

Age: 22 (canon)
Height: 182 cm/5'11.5" (canon)
Weight: 75 kg/165.35 lbs (canon)
Eyes: Dark grey (canon)
Hair: White (canon)
Date and Place of Birth: 13 March, Italy (canon)
Blood Type: O- (O is canon, minus is not)

Medical Info: Normal elite assassin human in the mafia!

Physical traits: Nothing special!

Known allergies: none

Past Medical History: Usual swordsman injuries! Also, cut off his left hand eight years ago and replaced it with a fake hand that can FLIP OUT AND BACKWARDS.

Random crap:

What's Okay To Mention Around Him: Nothing about the future arc, but I'd say everything else is good.

Notes for the Psychics: Full of PRIIIIIIIIIIIIDE and also LOOOOOOOUD and ANGRYYYYYYYY but mostly LOOOOOOOOOOOOOUD.

Abilities: Amazingtastic sword skills. Rain attribute, which probably won't come up in camp.

Can I shapeshift/bodyswap/spit at/step on/etc?: Drop me a line and ask! ♥

Hugging/Kissing/Other non-violent physical contact: Go for it. Will most likely react violently, however.

Fighting: Hell yes.

Maim/Murder/Death: For comedy? Almost always yes. For otherwise? Poke me, but still most likely yes.

Baking: .........possibly? But not of his own free will. BOSS, WHY THE FUCK DO I HAVE TO MAKE YOU A SAMMIIIIIIIIICH!! D8<

AU: Run it by me and we'll see! ♥

OTHER CANON STUFF:
Favourite word: "pride"
Favourite food: tuna carpaccio
Hates: brown-nosers, suck-ups
Favourite animal: shark
Hobby: sword maintenance

CANON RELATIONSHIPS:
Xanxus: fell in love with his fury
Marmon: SHUT UP ABOUT MONEY
Lussuria: FAGGY BASTARD
Bel: DUAL-PERSONALITY BRAT
Levi: WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!
Gola Mosca: CAN YOU EVEN WORK, [DEKABUTSU]?! (I'm thinking "dekabutsu" means "piece of shit"?)
Yamamoto: Sword skills ain't bad!
Tsuna: DON'T GET IN XANXUS'S WAY!!

Sun, 16 Dec 2007 22:14:11 GMT

Character: Superbi Squalo
Series: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Character Age: 22
Job: Hair Care Instructor
Canon:
Katekyo Hitman Reborn! is the tale of one baby's valiant struggle to coach a stubbornly resistant middle schooler into becoming the head of one of the most powerful mafia families in the world, the Vongola. And part of being the head of the Vongola family is having an elite team of assassin geniuses at your disposal - the Varia. Superbi Squalo is the genius swordsman of the Varia, slated to become their boss after he defeated the leader, Tyr. Instead, he "fell in love" with Xanxus's fury and allowed him to take over instead. Squalo then vowed to keep growing his hair until Xanxus became the boss of the Vongola, which means his hair has become rather Sephirothesque. In addition, Squalo cut off his left hand after battling the similarly single-handed Tyr in order to better understand his opponent...although whether or not Tyr also replaced his left hand with an Inspector Gadget-like prosthetic that can flip to extreme angles is anyone's guess.

If you could only describe Squalo with one word, chances are it would be "loud." He has two distinct speaking traits: one is sometimes extending the last word in a sentence, and another is yelling "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!!" as a preamble to any of the following: greetings, fights, tirades, interjections, flashbacks, Herbal Essences commercials. In addition to his loud personality, Squalo is also excessively proud past typical shounen dumbassery. When Yamamoto, after beating Squalo in battle, tries to save him from a shark attack, Squalo kicks him away and tells him he's tainting Squalo's honour as a swordsman. ...he then gets eaten by a giant shark, but that's all right; he's durable and lives to yell another day.

Sample Post:
HEEEEEEEEEEEEEY, YOU LITTLE BRATS!! WHO HERE NEEDS TO LEARN HOW TO PROPERLY CONDITIOOOOOOOOOON?!

You scum are lucky I caaaaame! If this shitty mission weren't a direct order from the boss, I wouldn't have even bothered - teaching a bunch of trash how to take care of their hair is utterly beneath me! So listen up and do as I say, or I'll cut you all into seven pieces!

If you're just gonna follow the directions on the bottle, don't waste my time and get out of my faaaaaaace! I'll slice you up with my sword, you trash! True hair care means knowing how your own hair works and how to handle it before, during and after treatment! You with the matted hair - you aren't detangling it before you wash, are you?! Idiot!! Don't underestimate your hair's ability to tangle, so take care of that before you wash it as well as afterwards! Hair tangles are a constant problem - remember that! Cut off your own hand and replace it with scissors if you can't reach the bottom of your own fucking hair!!

No wonder you're all having hair problems! Brat with the tight braids! You sleep with it like that?! That's what I thooooought! You're breaking the fucking hair strands doing that - either tie it loose when you sleep or get out of my sight, trash! And you! What the fuck is up with your hair?! And you ask me why it keeps tangling?! I've already addressed this issue! Get that shit out of it if you can't wash it out properly afterwards!! And get a damn silk pillow, those cottons ones will just tangle it furtheeeer!! "Not available at the store" - how much do you value your life, punk, whining about shit like that! I'll slice you up right here and now!!

Heeeeeeey! This kid's on the right track - take off your fucking hat! There! Look how well this brat's been moisturizing his hair in response to the unusually dry winter! See this shine? This is a brat who can take care of his own fucking hair! Watch him from now on and learn, you garbage!!

--!! Punk ass brat, thinking so highly of yourself from just one compliment! Don't try to brush my hair - you're tainting my honour as a hair care instructor!

And the voting post.