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AngryCacti

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About AngryCacti

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  • Location
    Arizona
  • Interests
    Theatre
    D&D
    Comic books
    Building/COSTUMES <---- (a.k.a. Why I'm broke)
  • Occupation
    (A long tortured) Student

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    AngryCacti

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  1. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    I leave you all in a world of writing to journey to the cringy magical place they call the Renaissance Fair! Goodbye my friends, for I am bound for a better place of giant turkey legs and knife throwing. Fartheewell for thine tears shall no more stay me from mine own day of excessive spending! forsooth!
  2. Ruin has come to Ashville

    “I see them, yes.” He replied. The rain and thundering made it difficult to hear. He had to yell over the pouring water-like rain. Unlike the guard, Malcom didn’t push his spear into the ground, but he backed up enough to be out of reach of the other. He held Atropos parallel to himself with the head pointed up in his right hand. The pain in his left lessened greatly upon loosing contact with the stark realness of the spear. It would have worried him any other time, but the lingering feeling of unease clouded his thoughts and forced him to focus his attention elsewhere. Malcom raised an eyebrow at the demonstration of the guard’s spear’s brutality. He had never seen something like that on Terranus before. He watched the guard’s movements carefully. The ground was rapidly turning into a grey slush that sucked one’s feet down into the quagmire. Any movement would be just hard enough to cause frustration and increase fatigue but the longer one stood still, the deeper they began to find themselves entrenched. The dark rain had completely drenched Malcom by this time, soaking through everything he owned. His dark armor seemed uncharacteristically heavy as cold droplets rolled off the oiled surface. He bowed his head slightly in response to the guard. “You are not much like the other people trapped in the town either, though I would wager for a different reason.” He said, referring to the strangeness of the guard and his foreign spear. “If you can speak truthfully, tell me what has happened here. How long has the city been like this? Everywhere I have gone has only led me deeper into the madness of this place, but kept me further from its center.” His eyes did not leave the guard’s face. “I can help you all if you do not oppose me.”
  3. Ruin has come to Ashville

    Question: Would Malcom be hearing/seeing any of the stuff Jet is seeing right now? Or is that happening elsewhere?
  4. Ruin has come to Ashville

    *gasp* my life has not been complete until now.
  5. Ruin has come to Ashville

    All hail Jotnotes, supreme monarch of all things spooky! I love what you’re doing in the thread. It looks like a lot to handle three different paths but you’re doing it extremely elegantly. So far, for me, the pace seems good. I really enjoy all the world building you’re putting into this, it gives it the extra nudge into the horror genre. Also, that’s a badass spear 😄
  6. Ruin has come to Ashville

    Malcom stared in disturbed silence at the tower of bodies in front of him. The longer he stared, the deeper a feeling of cold dread seemed to seep into him. The mound was there, rotting and vile in nature but just as he processed what was in front of him, he would blink or shift his gaze and the horrific sight assailed his senses like it was new. Something behind him moved. Without thinking, he tore his eyes from the carnage, swung Atropos in a narrow, deadly arc and hit metal with a dissonant clash of steel on steel. The two figures remained locked together in silence for only a second before Malcom drew back. The rain obscured his vision so all he could see was the dark shape of his opponent. He settled into a low stance, turning himself sideways to the figure. In one swift motion he lunged forward, driving Atropos towards the torso of his opponent at a speed that would be hard to parry. The other’s weapon sent shockwaves down the handle of Atropos as he knocked away the strike. Malcom turned and, using the momentum, brought his hand over and thrust the blunt end forward and, when it was stopped by a well timed block, swung the spear underhand to arch up towards the figure, untwisting his body to add more power to the strike. Again, with an eerily accurate swing, Atropos stopped short. “That's enough of that, now." The other man spoke. In the moment of pause, as the two spears remained locked together, his shape solidified in a flash of lightning. Malcom did not answer but he made no attempt to strike again. Unease still weighed heavily on his mind and every moment longer spend in the rain brought a feeling of wrongness. The pain in his left hand throbbed against the dark wood of the spear shaft, even more now than it had earlier. After the sudden bout of combat, it ached as if it had been sliced to the bone instead of just a small scratch. He couldn’t help but glance down at it and the other man must have taken that has a sign for he continued to talk. “If I manage to jab you even once with it, deep enough to hit bone, the tip will extend. You won't survive that wound, whether you succeed in killing me afterward or not." He eyed the spearhead the man seemed so sure of. He had never heard nor seen such a spear before. “If we must die at each other’s hand so be it.” He said, matching his attacker’s calm facade. Malcom did not relax his stance nor move his spear from the lock. His muscles remained tense and ready to deflect an attack if need be. “If you have not killed me already, then withdraw and stand down.” He continued. “If you wish to talk let us do so in a civilized manner.” If the attacker backed off, Malcom would as well, staying defensive but he wouldn’t attack first.
  7. Ruin has come to Ashville

    @Jotnotes you’re awesome. I like the mechanic for the split group and thanks for allowing it to happen. He won’t be separated for too long anyways, but if it isn’t working out let me know and I’ll put Malcom back into the main group early.
  8. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    “Znzn, jul ner gur ovt xvqf svtugvat?” “Orpnhfr gurl unir qnax zrzrf, zl puvyq. Orpnhfr gurl unir qnax zrzrf.”
  9. Ruin has come to Ashville

    The door was broken open with a resounding crash that seemed dampened by the rain and wind. It's sound was carried through the air to Malcom who scarcely paused to acknowledge it. A dark iron fence, chest high and made of gnarled spikes blocked his path around the outside of the church. There was no gate immediately nearby so he grabbed the railing underneath a spike and swung his leg over. Suddenly, the sky lit up with flash of lightning and a dark shape swung from the tree above him. Malcom lurched away from the gate, his movements uncharacteristically sloppy, and as his fell, his hand slipped and was sliced open by the deceiving edge of the spike. The dark shape swung overhead again, illuminated by another crack of lightning and thunder, and its true nature was revealed. It was a body, hanged by the neck from the tree. The wind batted it around like a cat batted a skein of yarn. He could make out the general shape of the man- for it was a man- but details of the face were lost in the storm. The rope was tied too far up for him to cut the man loose, even with Atropos. With his composure back, he turned his back on the corpse and walked through the shadows, his black armor blending into the shade cast by the church and clouds. He assumed the others would be inside the church by now. What they would find, he could not say, but there were clear traces of activity around this strange building. The very stones of the church seemed to vibrate at a different frequency than the rest of the great web. He occasionally came across footsteps in the mud that were slowly being washed away and some that were still fresh enough to hold their shape. He hoped to find a graveyard behind the church or at least some record of this town's death. If the poor soul that was hanged by the gate was any indication, he would find answers here. As the wall ended he placed his hand on the corner and was surprised with he felt warm liquid dripping down his wrist. He pulled his hand back and looked at the blood that was seeping from the open gash and tricking down his wrist to join with the foul rain. As the dark water fell over him and dripped into the open wound, the gash throbbed with a dull pain to a heartbeat of its own. A branch snapped from around the corner. He slowly drew the spear from his back and stole close to the corner. Voices. Whispers. Malcom swung around the corner and into the small graveyard behind the church. It was not a traditional graveyard. Instead of graves dug six feet under, cracked, grey marble tombs sat in haphazard rows, each more decadently decrepit than the last. Vines grew up amongst the stones and curled over the cracked slabs that pinned the dead in their stone coffins. And a pile of bodies lay in the center, between two tombs, limbs stacked on top of each other like a macabre monument to the departed.
  10. Ruin has come to Ashville

    Malcom waited for everyone to leave the post office before following. He cast one last look back at the strange man and nodded in farewell before swinging Atropos to his side and letting the door close behind him. Outside, the rain was still falling, but if it was water then it was stranger water indeed. It seemed to avoid his spear. Yes, Atropos was wet, but it did not seem to be covered in the strange rain. The liquid collected on top in beads and slowly rolled off, leaving only residual marks of moisture on the wood. The same protection did not extend to Malcom and the dark man was soon drenched. The group was loitering outside and Malcom stopped amongst them to hear the end of the conversation. One of them broke away from group and headed for the church. After moment, Malcom followed without seeing who else went. He stopped just outside the church and looked up. The 'rain' streamed off his face as he looked into the clouds. They were menacing, grey and boiling in the sky but the monstrous figures that chased them to the old man were gone for now. Satisfied, he slung Atropos on to his back and turned right, walking around the perimeter of the church, his boots leaving a dissolving trail in the mud.
  11. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    Sharks doesn't never get cancer despite its famous appetite for everything including the kitchen sink.
  12. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    I agree, Metty's got some superpower that they're keeping from us.
  13. What are you playing?

    I'm neck deep into Breath of the Wild and absolutely loving it!
  14. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    That's good ol' hard facts right there. It took us two calculators and a phone to come up with those numbers.
  15. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    I did the math and it would take 15 billion gumdrops to make a rope to the moon. You would need to buy 2,500,000,000 fun size boxes of DOT gumdrops and pay a little over 34 million US dollars.
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