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amenities

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amenities last won the day on January 9

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About amenities

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    Architect

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    sothenjosh@gmail.com

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    Super Munchkin

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  1. Welcome to the site! 

    1. supernal

      supernal

      Yeah! Welcome!

  2. Thanks for choosing Valucre, what can I get started fresh for you?

    1. Die Shize

      Die Shize

      Hummmmmmmm I’ll take a Big Whopper, a heavy rare steak, side of toasted fries, some of that spicy cheesy lemon squeezy dip, 20 liter Coca-Pepsi, let’s get a slice of chocolate caramel pecan almond pie cake, and an flamin’ fiery hot chile chachilla—to go—no wait I’ll dine inside haha—nah make it to go—actually just the drink to go. Thanks.

  3. His very first kill— a Queen— had cost him, nearly along with his life, his family and the last of his expiring race. His next kill was a fisherman. After that an armed guard, a wyvern, two princes. A cruise ship. An entire megacity. There are ten ways to kill a cat, he learned over all those years, but it was what you could do with the body afterwards that grew to interest him more. Power is always misused, he used to say, unless it’s by you. Cutting deals with the veritable and swindling the weak, he rose to criminal infamy whilst dividing his fortune among his favorite little things that went bump in the night. Whilst dividing his mind and soul between the bodies he puppetized. He and his purpose bore about them a gravitational pull, such that by the workings of his hands he gathered around him like a cloak the darkest shades of black that the depthless Valucre had to offer, the meticulous spinning of its yarn gathering of the Dead. The Puppet Master toiled endlessly to develop and empower his Blood Magic. From the beginning he saved the bodies of those he’d killed, experimenting on them and thereby perfecting a device that channeled his magic into them latently, creating autonomous meat machines that lived for him without his continuous sustenance. Creating ecosystems of hiveminds, going so far as creating new brains for thousands in the peripheral as the Dead rose to power in Valucre’s underground, the man himself eventually succumbed to monumental physical and immaterial stress and was forced to create an avatar, a peek version of himself that could act as a valve to continue the cycle of life and death that continues to be Cain Rose. So it is that his original body, the Shadow, lies within a labyrinth of Cain’s creation while the avatar, the Earthbreaker continues his will. Now the neural system of the Puppet Master’s strings is a web that reaches every continent, the spiders that are the Dead’s agents weaving their enemies into traps worldwide on an insidiously individually capable and daily basis. Have you gotten a new milkman lately? It might be him. Have you had the same milkman for a decade? It still might be him... The only thing that was certain is that there were no certainties with the Dead. Most criminals, especially those of the serial killer variety, keep to themselves. Besides cases of killer-to-killer adoration or rivalry, most killers and criminals of the clandestine cut never even find out about one another in the same time period during which they exist! So if Lala even was aware of the Dead, in her blissful jaunt from one victim to another, it was unlikely that she thought they would ever come for her. Little did she know, she was a perfect specimen for the cult. Little did she know, they’d had their eyes on her. Lilting up into the silent recesses of the house, Lala would find it eerie. The fireplace was lit, the heat and lights were on, the family’s luxurious steam-powered sedan was parked in the underground garage, but the entire home was entirely silent. Lala could wait and wait in whatever the best spot she found was, but as long as she waited nothing would happen. As uncertainty set in the only thing that was certain was the fact that this was not going as she had initially planned. Eventually Lala might feel compelled to journey out of her spot, probe into the apparently occupied but naggingly idle setting, and when she did, she would find a singular man and woman sitting across from one another at a bare table in the large dining room. Both of them bore masks like one might expect at a masquerade or some satanic orgy, the man’s red hair falling in rivulets over the horned ram concealing his pale face down to just above the lips. Before each of them sat a glass of wine, filled particularly with the contents of the bottle she’d tampered with. “Hello,” said the man without intonation. He seemed ever so lost in the woman’s eyes across from him, so much so that he did not move but for his lips when she entered. “Would you sit with us?”
  4. I'm already a ghost, just a shell of what I used to be.

  5. The whole world is one hilariously disfunctional hivemind

  6. Memories of sparring with his father, former Lieutenant Andrew Jorjorean of the Tian Problem Solvers, were sustained in a raw suspension in Ash’s mind from the day he’d lost him to Cain’s grasp. If Ash could not be afraid, and he must be brave, he must also survive if he wanted to complete his ultimate mission against the man who stole his father away. "You... DARE?!" Ash was still holding the warped cocktail table as his shield. While he had exposed himself, he wasn’t utterly defenseless, and he did have a moment or two between the throwing of his blade, its striking its intended target, and Amirah’s rebuttal attack. In that time, Ash exercised the finest block he knew how with such a mechanism: stooping to his right knee and hiding as much of his body behind the shield as possible, he slanted its face so that Amirah’s blast would not meet it like a straight up-and-down wall, but a ramp that would redirect more force than it fought against. Even so, after a moment of the shield superheating against his skin, he was tossed into the air like a ragdoll, the wind beat out of his chest like a drum. Himura’s underweared figure flew across the roof, but he was still cognizant enough to land on his feet. Now he had been sufficiently blown out of the main line of enemy sights, he picked up one of the guards’ comms devices. He could tell based on their separate trajectories and the ongoing buzz that Phoebe and him were very far apart, and Shikai was dealing with Amirah. He still groaned with his hand against his stomach, trying to regain his breath, but his mind was all there. He started skirting around the roof toward Phoebe as discretely as he’d made his way this way a minute earlier. When he reached Phoebe, her sight would finally be piecing itself back together. “Hey,” he hissed urgently with furrowed brows, a sorta funny look for a half naked guy with burnt hair. “Weren’t you gonna eat her with the Mindgorger or something? Bust that shit out! Like really use it!” Sullied by attacks, a splotch of blood dripping down his left cheek, Ash's eyes bore a battlereadiness Phoebe hadn't seen since their training together on the mountain.
  7. I love conflict, got an obnoxious subconscious

  8. @L E V I A T H A N Man, I am so sorry. Someone got laid off at my job and two more are hindered by pregnancy/pregnant wife (COVID babies whaaat?) so I'm working mega overtime for the last 2 months. But I'm not gone, NEVER GONE, and I still ❤️ u. In fact, here's a post to show it. IN FACT, here's an idea to extra show it: Let's turn this thread into our little to-do list for Gaia. 1) If you accept, my first idea is to have a short cooperative spar! Nothing crazy but they can tune up their skills and get to know one another a little by having some friendly back-and-forth. 2) Investigate the attack on Valdrin that happened below and identify Dauner A. Light as the culprit behind the attack. Get back to me friend!
  9. This church, but a meager vessel of offering for followers of Gaia, coursed with the winds as veins do blood as Her children left the place with hearts full of Good Will. Then Aspyn coursed with Them as hearts do Good Will. This was the self-fulfilling nature of the land crafted firmly— lovingly for the refugees of a faltering Terrenus, smelted meaningfully for its most luscious and powerful materials, and henceforth not weakened but hardened with repeated strikes. What Yshmael would find in his travels throughout the Northwestern reaches of Biazo Isle— the reaches belonging to Aspyn— manifested in all of his senses. He would feel physically and emotionally invigorated the closer he stood to Aspyn’s City Hall; he would notice that the trees flourished in extraordinarily gargantuan tangles teeming with life in a crown around the utter jewel that was Aspyn; the fruits were larger and tasted better, their energy lasting longer and nutrients extending themselves farther. Nobody wanted for anything here, for this was Michael Commager’s gift from Gaia to her followers who had suffered for too long at the hand of vicious snakes in the grass. He would maraud for her until the day he died, and do his best for that never to come. Even the ignorant blame of those who suckled on the teat of Terrenus and Gaia would not hinder Michael from maintaining this haven. Yshmael would be standing there in the foyer, watching Michael and Sister Eils talk with flirtatious fervor. Michael bore about him both an irresistible charm and a promise of no threat: It was well known that he’d had and lost two deep loves in his life. Loves so deep, for which he felt so deeply at fault for the destruction of, he could not requite to himself the ability to do so again. It wasn’t a brag or a farce, but a pious man’s most honest version of penitence for unfortunate events with which he had grievously little to do. Yshmael would not feel alone for a second, the congregation welcoming and friendly and Michael’s attention encapsulating the Thrice-Blessed as it almost always did. In fact, very soon Michael and the Sister approaching him. “It is true that the interdependence of many great things holds Aspyn together,” she said to both of them. “When something can be independent, that is good. When two things can be not only independent, but interdependent, that is even better. When there are three? That is greater! And so on.” Light slanted in through the open windows and muffled across the crimson carpet as she spoke to them through the growing silence of the congregation’s departure. It was almost starting to feel like she was about to go into another sermon when Michael stepped forward punching one hand into the other. He had a suspicious glint in his eye, light excitement on his face. “I wanna spar you!” He said up to the taller clergyman to a chuckle from the Sister.
  10. All my friends are heathens take it slow

    1. Velindrel

      Velindrel

      nah yo we gotta go fast yo hahah just saying gamer speak.

  11. For one hour, Michael and Li'El had found themselves within a dreamlike nebula that was the very being of the Eridianus genus loci. It was like existing within the mind of a perfect Artificial Intelligence; oxygen levels, the viscosity of humidity, water levels, the lovingly stacked balance of predator and prey, everything that Michael and Li'El had ever been, swirled in a warm tingle around and through them. In the middle of all of it. I was broken in the water. Crashed before I ever even took flight. I don't know if I was always meant to be... good. I was infected with Xynzicht, a cauldron of infectious darkness. It was thrilling, invigorating, but it ate me from the inside out. I was the hand of a villain named Faustus Clemens who sought to pry his fingers into the cracks of Terrenus and rip it apart like so many loosely stacked bricks. When he laid the fabric of his plan bare, I couldn't continue.. My sense of guilt for all the lives I had wasted at Faustus' hands consumed me, and I hatched a plan to betray him. I forsook Faustus, cast out the addictive consumption of Xynzicht for the forgiving light of Gaia, and that... that was when the delusion that I was the son of Gaia began. When the dust of the last few years settled, I realized, Li'El... that I am no son of Gaia. I am a descendant of Jason of the Lions, but I am not Hers... Li'El would feel, in that time in which they were spiritually entwined to the greatest heights and furthest degree they could go without becoming inseparable forever, that Michael's faith was not the fantastic beast that strangers to the Major thought it was. He had moments of questioning, times of hardship. He needed support too. Still, when their souls had withdrawn from one another back into themselves, Michael reached a shaky hand down to help Li'El to his feet. "We do this together, man." When they left the facility, there were lines of officers and clergyman lined up to give them accolades. Some few wore chagrin bare on their face that Michael would 'give away' a piece of Terrenus in order to save these people, but Michael exited with his chin high and no time to tend to their farcical nationalistic indignation. The very last individual between them and the door was A Bowing Elf. "Hark, saviors!" he said, raising a hand to stop them as they passed. "I hail from the beaches north of Casper. Michael, you have visited Casper twice now to deign good fortune upon us. Li'El," he said, turning to Li, "you have risen above the call of duty to give yourself to this cause." Stepping back, the elf produced two crystals. "These are rain crystals. They will produce rain clouds wherever you are when you want them to. This is but a small token of our gratitude." [End Thread]
  12. No turning back I'm blacking

  13. Things shouldn't come out of their shells by having them broken, but by being coaxed out

  14. Just let me feel something

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