>Archive links:
archive.4plebs.org
suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com
Twitter: twitter.com
You are Urist Twelfthbay, and-
>Horrifying screams come from the darkness below!
- you are the moe personification of Dwarf Fortress, which makes you a short, sturdy creature fond of drink and industry, but Gamindustri just made you a scrawny little-
>Horrifying screams come from the darkness below!
- okay, this is getting absurd. You let Shovel Knight get on with tracking down Tiff and Thravar, and get Therapist up and running in no time at all. First things first, you get in touch with your surrogate little sister, and as always, she sounds pleased as punch to 'hear' your voice through the telepathic link.
>Oneechan! You're back! Is Nepgear okay?
Yeah, well- it's a long story. She's fine, but you gotta run off and unfuck some fucking bullshit.
>Oh, I know that fucking feeling, Oneechan!
You pause for a moment. Between this and Nepgear's worryingly foul language, you've been getting the distinct feeling that you've been rubbing off on these youngsters.
... but you shake off that feeling, because who the fuck cares. Alright, Mojang, how bad is it? How many unstoppable hell demons do we have crawling around in the basement?
>"Um... none, Oneechan!"
... 'scuse me?
>"None! I think Doomgirl's got it under control!"
(Cont.)