Make a character story from the image you see:

Previous: >Look at the image above yours
>Post 3 to 5 lines of greentext detailing an interesting character based on that image
>But if you've got more than 3 or 5 lines to tell, then go ahead
>You can contribute by posting your own image, even as a form of a bump

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Haven't seen one of these threads in a while. Time to expose my hack, fucking writing skill

Among the Elves who occupied the Crescent Isles, Mizu was seen as a paragon of what their culture stood for. She had trained since she could walk to exemplify not the traits of a skilled warrior, but that of an ideal woman. From morning until night, she threw herself into her lessons. Her teachers, paid for by her honorable father, sought to mold her into something they could have the pleasure of boasting about for many centuries to come. They drilled into her everything from sewing and cooking to archery and horseback riding. The sweat of her brow and the blisters upon her hands were the badges she earned.

Many called her admirable, and more called her beautiful. But upon reaching womanhood, Mizu realized that for all she had striven for these many years, she had nothing that felt truly her own. Often, whenever she could take a minute to breath and be alone with her thoughts, she pondered on who she really was. Nearly all she did was an effort to fulfill her duty. To her father, to her clan, and to her people. But as she looked out over the garden, she came to terms with the idea that she had allowed herself to become merely a vessel for the will of others.

She was not truly whole.

The creatures swarmed upon the end of the rod, which pulsed with an alluring light and warmth. Too stupid to know it wasn't truly what they hungered for, they assaulted it as if to feast on something that wasn't there. Disgusted, the grimaced behind her breathing apparatus, which served to purify the miasma that thickened all around her. When at last she had surmised that the last of the foul things had gathered, she closed her eyes and whispered an incantation so softly that even she could barely know what it was that escaped her lips. The creatures writhed and contorted into horrible shapes as they ignited in green flame, and began to burn into cinders. When the last was naught but ash upon the floor, the sorceress sighed and lowered the rod.

Lately the veil had been thinning in many places, allowing such abominations to permeate its protective weave and enter into the natural world form their own twisted realm. It had happened before, but never on such a scale as this, and never for as long. She feared the worst as she packed her bag, and made her way back to the circle, and her master's den.

Your Post's make an interesting (high level) Shadowrun group:
>Jimmy 'Pr3ttyB01' Clarksen, Decker/Face
>Known as a skilled 'Cyber Security Analyst' and 'Special Circumstance Negotiator', Jimmy is well know in the Barrens of the Metroplex he calls his home.
>Looking not a day over twenty despite nearing 50 thanks to plastic surgery, Jimmy was on a promising career path in a Megacorp half a lifetime ago.
>But his greed got the better of him and yada yada yada hes here now, as he'd say.

>'Sakura Yamada' (real name unknown), Elven Phys Adept
>Friendly yet reserved, she is only doing these things for some noble goal

>Captain Jane K. Temple, Troll Driver/Rigger
>While you could mistake her thin frame in pictures theres no questen that she's a Troll when you see her 9' figure in person.
>Captain of the party boat 'La Iniciativa' by day, she moonlights as a Rigger and get-away driver by night

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Bretty gud bro. I wish I could improvise stuff like that so quickly, I often spend half a day trying to settle on a character concept when I'm applying for games.

The trick is to just start and let it all come out, and to worry about how good it is later. That's called revision. Also that little face is too cute so she's next

>A Bird-Folk teacher, Maester Skriyewk
>Has served as an advisor for King Victor Albanezi and the tutor of the King's son and soon-to-be-king, Prince Samuel
>Professionally, Skriyewk is a shrewd and scrupulous in his proffession as advisor and mentor to Prince Samuel
>But despite that, Skriyewk still manages to be a decent person to be with outside the proffesional world of his job and even manages to be a good friend to Prince Samuel
>Skriyewk not only educated Prince Samuel since childhood, but his been a good playmate to him when not tutoring him with educational matters and when no other fellow noble children were around to play with young Samuel
>But the Bird-Folk adviser even helped Prince Samuel court an older noble woman whom he had a crush on and now Prince Samuel has been dating that noble lady ever since
>Indeed, Skriyewk is what the common smallfolk would call a "Total Bro"

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At 12 summers, Poppy was the youngest acolyte ever to be considered at the Cerulean Grove. Long had it's marble halls and ivy covered towers been the foremost and most prestigious home to students of the arcane. All around her, each day, swarmed tall and beautiful sons of nobles and magnates who sought to bolster their family reputation through the art of magic and sorcery. They moved like the summer breeze, graceful and undeterred as they made their way to and from lecture halls. Poppy, who was merely the daughter of a fletcher and a seamstress, felt like a mouse among stallions.

Every morning she woke with the sun, washed her face and brushed her hair, then sat down to memorize her notes from the day before. When the bell for breakfast ran, she stuffed her spellbook into her pack and pulled the strap over her small shoulder, rushing to be on time to the table. Her small, rather weak legs had trouble hauling the weight of her satchel, which was stuffed to burst with her books, notes, implements, and various other things she might need during her school day. Often this made her one of the last to reach the grand hall for breakfast. She had never once even tasted the apple tart or crumbly strudel that was all the talk of the girls in the lavatory. She usually settled for lukewarm oatmeal, or slightly burned toast. She had had worse food at home, with her parents being busy so often, and this much was of little bother when she knew she had a long and fulfilling day of study before her.

Today, however, something would be different. She was not aware as she trotted along on her way to the Observatory, but something had made it's way into the school, and is was seeking her out with the speed and determination of an arrow, from the Game Master's bow

I wanted to write a lot more but Veeky Forums has a text limit

>Yisugei Qatun, Warrior of the Plains
>ended the Kurta Schism in the 3rd century of the Alirian Empire by her actions in the Battle of Sechen, whereupon she was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel
>Wields a decades-old sword handed down from each first-born child of the family.

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>It had been a long day for Sam and Alex
>'Who would have thought a Rad-Lich made that bunker his home?', she said, gesticulating so much she almost spilled her lukewarm Ura-Cola
>'Mhh' he grumbled, clutching his favorite mug, filled with a barely palatable mix of mana potion and instant coffee.
>'And when he when >bzzz-bzzz-brrr< i nearly ran away! But i went >ratatata< and hit him riiight there', she pointed to his right eye, coming so close her finger touching his lashes, 'and he went >splatter-poof

Thats a shame, I really enjoyed reading it.

This guy's art has improved a lot, but it basically boils down to cleaner lines, more anime looking females, and he still has retarded western faces for the males.

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>"Is that it? Just two pictures of these praticular soldiers?" Asked the military archives manager
>"Okay here it is then. First picture is Roland Radford, is the rank of staff sergeant in the Sovereign Colonies Armed Forces. Quite a scar he has on the left side of his face, or well. The right side of his face in his point of view, got it during the battle of Bergunfluc."
>"And the lady soldier is Captain Christina Fields of the Mutual Defense Pact. Graduated from the Baron Nations Government's prestigious War Academy with first honors and many more awards that'd be too long to list in just a few sentences. But none-the-less, she's a good woman, a good soldier and a naturally born good leader."
>"So whatcha gonna do with these two pictures of two servicemen of two different nations? What, you're gonna make a story out of 'em? They be fighting a 'greater evil?' Fall in love, and unite their two countries?"
>"...Okay, whatever, good luck with that then sir. Oh and that'd be 10 dollars for service fee for obtaining copies of those photos of those two official serving service men."

>She can't believe she lost
>Angel Warrior Lucaria cannot believe she has been tricked by that Jester-Mage Strange-Alfred
>Just as Lucaria was in her stance, sword in hand,, Strange-Alfred was distracting her with quips and bad puns
>And then he did it, he threw specially enchanted stones above Lucaria's head as she did not notice it as it was too late for her
>She could not move and her dword was dropped from her hand, it was unbelievable that an angelic being has been beaten and bested by a low-ranking mage who dresses and works as a jester and clown
>And now Weird-Alfred laughs and jeers as he skips and hops and glees his way home to claim his bet that he beaten an angelic being with a simple distraction trick

The desert heat pressed down on Naomi, attempting to roast her in her atmosphere suit. Her temperature control unit was running at maximum output, but the planet's surface was still so hot during sun-up that she could feel sweat rolling down her face, neck, and back as she sprinted toward the cave where she had managed to stow her ship when she landed the night before. Just as her HUD began to flash a heat warning that occupied the entire lower half of her visor, she made it into the mouth of the cave and dashed to the side of her resting ship.

With one powerful leap, she latched onto the side of the cockpit and slammed her gloved fist onto the lock release, allowing the hatch which sealed the cockpit to raise. She swung her leg over and rolled into the seat.

As the hatch lowered and the vacuum seal engaged, she powered on the ships navigation system and warmed the engines. The electronics began to burn with holographic light as the ship ran through its boot process. Naomi could still feel her skin tingling from the heat, but was relieved when all of the major systems of her vessel registered green. She pulled the safety harness across her chest and snapped the buckle shut, then grabbed a hold of the controls on either side of her seat and made ready for liftoff.

Just as the engines began to burn and the ship taxied out of the mouth of the cave, her ship's long distance receiver picked up a signal, and a crackling voice began to sound over her comm link.

"Yellow Leader, are you there? Yellow Leader this is Home, please respond if you copy, over."

Naomi was ready to cry tears of sweet relief, but she wasn't out of the woods yet. She had minimal fuel and no ammunition, and there was three light years between her and Federation space. She opened her comm link and spoke clearly.

"This is Yellow Leader. I'm returning to the field. Resources are low, please send an escort, over!"

And with that, her ships Jumper roared and propelled her into the sky.

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Oh damn, I gotta do this one

Literally keeping the thread open for more like these.

I'm only one man, friend

>"Hehehehehe I gots here a sword and what you got? A 'gun?' That' you's gonna use to shewt me?" The hobo who was about to sexually assault a woman he snatched to HIS alleyway bragged as he drew a sword.

>"This here is a real and genuine quality made katana. And I got it for just thirty dollars! I've seen enuf mooovies from the Eeeelectric store to know with enough practice, you can deflect 'em booolets!"

>"Sir, release the woman and put your weapon down. You're under arrest for attempted sexual assault and attempted abduction." The police officer said calmly and professionally as he raised his standard issue firearm. "Put it down or I will shoot you."

>The hobo bragged again as he made his stance. "YOU CAN'T STOP ME! I EARNED ME RIGHT TO CLAIM THIS HERE MAIDEN AND YOU AIN'T GONNA STOP ME YOU IMPERIALIST PIG!"

>And just as the hobo was about to charge at the on duty officer. The cop opened fire, hit his mark on the hobo's chest and just like that. The hobo dropped dead as a pool of blood was now surrounding the now dead hobo's lifeless body

>The hobo is dead as the officer's shots fatally hit him in the heart.

>"Everything's okay now mam. Just wait over there near my car and I can take you to the station for safety and for someone to pick you up. Gotta report this incident and call the paramedics to gather up that dreg's corpse." Said the police officer.

>"Thank you. Thank you very much officer, I would not know what'd happen if you did not come by to save me... Thanks." Was what the woman simply said.

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The woman sprinted through the darkened streets with all the speed she could muster, never daring to look back for even a moment. She didn't know where she was going, only that she wanted to be as far away from that monster as her legs could take her. Spotting a narrow alley, she cut left and bolted into the black passage, hoping something or someone on the other side could help her. But without any light, and struggling to even stay conscious because of the drugs he had slipped in her drink, she stumbled over something lying on the damp floor and went sprawling. She struggled to get back to her feet, but her legs were shaking, and her throat and lungs seared with pain. Heavy boots pounded the asphalt behind her, and she let out a short but audible shriek. This gave her away, and the man who had been chasing her for nearly five blocks in the dark spotted her again.

"There you are. I told you not to do anything stupid. Fucking bitch!"

A shot rang out, and a brief flash of light illuminated the alley. In that moment, the woman saw two shadows projected against the brick walls to either side of her. One of her monster man, and another unknown to her. She got back to her feed, stumbling, and turned to see him.

He was dressed in rags, save for a suit of armor made from layered aluminum license plates. He wobbled as he stood between her and the monster man. His voice was low, gravely, and wavering. He took a look over his shoulder, and glanced at the woman, then turned back.

"Nngh.... can't take.... damn... kids're..." He grumbled. The man, gun still aimed at the woman who was now making an effort to hide behind her savior, shouted through gnashing teeth.

"Sit the fuck back down, asshole. Or you're ne-"

A rush of air, and quiet sound like two rocks tapping against one another. Then a clatter as the barrel of the pistol hit the floor, severed from the chamber. The man, so full of hate and arrogance before, hung his mouth open in disbelief and terror.

>It was never easy for Cyran, growing up. Unlike his partner, Imra, he never showed much talent in archery. And unlike her, he never managed to get a fancy bow, either, instead relying on his trusty shortbow. His greatest weapon was a way to get under your skin, spin a tale, and soften even the hardest of hearts. A charlatan, a trickster, but one that gets the job done. Since he was an orphan, the high priest took him in and trained him in some basic healing arts while the roguish good looks and a swift tongue did the rest to make him a valued member of the church
>Imra on the other hand was a prodigy with the ranged instrument of death, and her parents gifted her the weapon of choice, made by the dwarves and enchanted by the high priests themselves. Unlike Cyran, she was trained from childhood to be good at killing, and at catching the infidels that incurred nature's wrath or sinned against the gods. However, her social skills left a lot to be desired, and while a great tracker, she never could fit in within a society that existed outside of nature, hence she was paired with Cyran
>The two are radically different, but one complements the skills of the other. Together they are the trusty agents of the Church.

Damn Veeky Forums's text limit, I wanted to talk about the hobo's Messatsu technique!

(You know that you could simply split it into multiple posts, right?)

I would but I want to give other posters a chance to do their own thing too

Ey its OK there pal. Go on ahead and keep posting and continuing that story if you must. It's people like you that help keep fun threads like this one alive. Yes, PEOPLE LIKE YOU.

So go on and post it!

Veeky Forums has a 300 reply bump limit, so don't worry about that.
And if you are making a second post to whine about it you didn't even gain anything by it

Unfortunately I need sleep but if this thread is still up or a new one is up after I'll contribute

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>The Grey Countess
On her way to be married she narrowly escaped the attack on her families estate which destroyed her world. Destitute and homeless she fell onto hard times untill she it began to visit her in her dreams.
At first thin and formless like smoke it began to whisper to her of revenge and power, of ways to reclaim her birthright, for a small, almost minuscule price.
But as her power grew, the tithing she had to give grew too, but by then it was too late to turn back...

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Hmmm, I'm interested in making a story for this image, sadly right now I'm in mobile and will be home later in hours.

So at the same time, maybe someone can do me a favor an write up a neat lil story for this image as a reminder for myself too? Thanks.

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Etgar Greylock spent most of his years in Luskan, serving as a sailor with aspirations to become a captain of his own vessel some day. The ship he worked on often was tasked with transporting animals, early on they were standard cattle and horses, but as the years went by, the animals to be transported slowly became more and more exotic. Etgar picked up the pass time of sketching the beasts, fascinated by their exotic nature.

Following the retirement of his own captain, Etgar was one of a handful being considered for the position, but on the day of the selection, Etgar packed his things, and left Luskan without a word. He traveled north, seeking exotic beasts to sketch in his old age. Often seeking the council of druids for directions of where he should go next.

Etgar's crowning achievement was finding and sketching a unicorn at a lake within Klauthen's Vale. Klauth, the ancient red dragon of the vale and the unicorn's master, came down from his dwelling to protect his creature. Etgar was terrified, but offered to show Klauth is collection of sketches he'd made over the years, explaining that he was merely a sight seer, told by a druid that there would be an exotic creature in the vale to witness. Klauth looked at the sketches with curiosity as Etgar vividly described the mannerisms and behaviors he witnessed from the sketched creatures during his time working on the ship. The dragon offered to let Etgar sketch itself in addition to the unicorn and offered him to stay the night in the vale as thanks for entertaining him.

Shit, fuck. This story was written for this image:

forgot to link it like a dunce

I recognize every single drawthread delivery you guys are posting.
I'm on to you.

>the armorsmith had a shortage of material,he is now accused of being a thighs fetishist
From the thumbnails she seems to have a tentacle arm, I was disapointed

>Owl knight are a peculiar order of soldier guarding the king's palace during the knight
>despite their armor they always move without sound
>if you are an intruder be sure that they will see you before you do, they can see in the dark and you probably don't
>also they are often seen taking care of the birds (especially owls) in the royal aviary

Even if they are, so what? This is a way Veeky Forums can show off its creative side without spamming the board to here and back.

Fucking let it happen. If you don't like it you don't need to read it.

Just an observation, user. I actually came to do the same thing, felt insecure, then realized everyone else was doing it and found it funny.

You would never think that Carland was once a timid and shy man. In spite of his size and strength at one point in life he was as meek as a mouse, but we all know what they say about a cornered mouse.

After a especially bloody brawl of no fault of his own, Carland "The Mouse" would soon come under the wing of Regis, an ambitious crime lord in the making who had a nack it seemed for finding rare gems like Carland. Now as his chief bodyguard and primary enforcer to Regis his life has never felt more complete or satisfying.

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>it had been years since his love has fallen
>for years he tinkered
>he finally made the perfect replication of his beloved
>she had her hair,her lovely eyes, her fair skin
>...But she didn't have her passion, her warm smile
>She would never be his beloved just a replica

Marie had never ventured beyond sight of her village. The furthest she had ever traveled was for the cider festival, where the villagers would gather in the orchard to gather the fallen apples before the winter came, to make them into sweet cider to be enjoyed while the cold ravaged the countryside. She had never truly desired to leave, certainly. She had everything she needed here, and the tales woven by those passing through sustained her curiosity about the world. Rugged men and boisterous women who drank and ate like beasts would recount stories of daring swordfights, star crossed lovers, and often jolly japes. Marie was content with this, until he came.

A band of soldiers in finely crafted armor that looked gorgeous even through the grime approached, though only a handful entered the town to negotiate for supplies. As their leader parley with the village chief, Marie caught the eye of one of the men, who smiled gently at her. He slipped away from his group to speak with her, and before long Marie had found herself enthralled by his tales. His speech was eloquent, his manner charming, and his exotic features intriguing. Marie hung on every word as he described his march from the Crimson Canopy all the way here, where they were forced to detour to avoid enemy scouts. Marie prodded him with question after question regarding his home and his people. He answered some vaguely, but he answered them all. When at last he was called back to his group, he took her hand in his, placed a gentle kiss upon her fingers, and bid her farewell.

This is the tale of Marie's first love.

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>robotic superweapons were deployed on the world of a long-standing nemesis of their creators
>they were programmed with basic personalities so that they could blend in with the population and serve as spies for a bit, as well as intelligently identify critical areas to insert themselves into and then explode
>the exploding robots phenomenon induced such a paranoia among the population that many became agoraphobic and learned to mistrust even their own families, fearing that they are actually exploding robot spies that will spontaneously detonate one day
>top scientists were trying to figure out how to fight the phenomenon while the military amassed a fleet to counterattack against the robots' progenitors' world
>they learned that the robots were all female, or male but programmed with templates from female personalities and that they all had a mark on their chest (which is actually the insignia of the manufacturer) which they concealed
>they determined that because brute force could not stop them, because the robots would simply explode when in a life-threatening situation and take out chunks of cities with them, they would have to use their personality matrices against them
>they learned of their greatest flaw: their capacity to simulate falling in love so that they can penetrate the homes and other often unreachable places occupied by lonely higher-ups
>so they rounded up all of the most handsome men on the planet and drafted them into becoming a secret organization of robot-seducers
>they're trained to look for the telltale signs of a robotic personality, and although they often have romantic relationships with dozens of their own kind at once as part of their job description, like casting a fishing net, when they detect these personality traits they hone in on their possessor and establish their sudden desire for lifelong monogamy with the suspected robot

>the robot, once properly swayed and seduced, often forgets its mission because its directive to blend in supersedes its directive to explode, and any girl would be insane to turn down one of these men, so, thusly, they must entertain the relationship in order to appear sane
>however, following this directive often occupies an entire one of their suitor's lifetimes, and because it only delays the threat of explosion, new suitors are sent to replace them as "husbands"
>these robots spend hundreds of years shuffling through professional husbands, none the wiser to how they are being manipulated
>the man in the pic is one such husband, and the grill is an exploding 'bot

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bitch
submissive
like negroes
goes easily ahegao

reeeeeEEEEEE

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For twelve generations her family had devoted themselves to their homeland, and she was no exception. When the sire of her name had been named Minister of War those centuries ago, risen from the lowly rank of Cup Bearer, he had envisioned a future for his progeny. A day when their line might be respected and renowned across the nation.

Elva, eldest daughter of three and one brother who was too frail to learn the art of war, carried herself with all the grace and nobility of her station. She had been named a captain by twenty, and at thirty she was now the youngest Colonel to ever be promoted off of the battlefield. Those younger than her usually only served at their rank for a short while, either because the fighting ended long enough to mend the chain of command or because they rushed off to throw themselves on an enemy bayonet out of some sense of honor.

Elva was not like them. She was cunning, charismatic, and a terror in the field. She and her hand picked squadron who some called the Queen's Saber, had not only never lost an objective; they had never lost a man. Her plans where not flawless by any means. She was simply two steps ahead of any mistake that could be made. She anticipated every move and every counter-move the enemy could make, and prepared against it before it could ever be completed. Because of this her troops loved her. They held her up as a goddess of war. They sung her praises and would crack the front teeth of any drunken bastard who said a word against her. Some saw her face in the dark, as they lay upon their beds and drifted off to sleep, but the few who'd has the courage to approach her and ask to be considered were only turned away and treated to as many drinks as they needed to ease the pain. Her men were her children and her brothers, and she would see them all to the other side of every breach. And she would be there to welcome them home.

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you write like a manga author.

Maybe I've just been browsing Veeky Forums too long but I can't tell whether that was an insult

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The Horned Man, with a stolen eye, sat upon his throne with oddly good cheer, smiling upon the adventurers that burst into his throne room.

"Welcome," he said, "I've been waiting for years! Come, come, make yourselves comfortable."

The Horned Man gesturing to the right, a banquet table appeared out of thin air, fully stocked with a lovely feast. The adventurers were polite, and accepted, joining him at the table.

Once they had each eaten their fill, the Horned Man sighed. "Well, I suppose it's time to get on with it." Raising his mace and shield, he prepared to defend himself against the onslaught that the adventurers launched at him.

He wished he didn't have to kill them, that they would just leave him alone, but they just kept coming. Their faces were different, but their motives, the same.

To murder the man who would conquer the world.

I stopped at the edge of the clearing, though it might be better to say I was stunned. I fell to my knees and tried my best to make myself disappear as I watched the great beast touch down, sending up a flurry of fresh snow as it's massive paws pressed into the ground. Its wings gave a few final flaps before relaxing and settling along it's back. It lowered its head as if to bow, and that was when I watched the hunter approach with all the caution of a child to it's favorite toy. He, or perhaps she, for her winter clothes and mask hid all of the features by which one might tell, raised a gloved hand to stroke the beast's muzzle, uttering something that I was too far away to hear. The beast closed its fierce eyes and allowed the hunter to reach under its chin to ruffle the thick patch of fur there, before lowering its body and laying in the snow. The hunter turned, surely to acknowledge my presence, but said nothing. He merely made his way to the side of the beast, and climbed up so gracefully he must have had years to practice. The moment he was settled into a great saddle adorned with tribal totems and tokens, the beast tensed its back legs, and leapt into the air. It beat its wings three times before enough lift was created, and then the two were off into the sky.

Writer of these abomonations here, and in the interest of encouraging more threads like this I swear upon my honor to write for the next three, yes three, images posted in here. Anything at all, I will face all challengers.

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Sarah slammed into the floor with enough force to knock the wind out of her lungs. She was dazed briefly, but the adrenaline coursing through her body was keeping her from losing focus, and despite the pain that wracked her she managed to right herself and look back at the monster who had tossed her aside without so much as a grunt of effort.

She took long, deep breaths to try and remain calm, but fear and anger clouded her thoughts. The suit wasn't helping, blaring an infuriating alert to inform her that critical damage had been taken and it's pressure seal was compromised by the breach. Not only that, but her transmitter had been in the half of her helmet that was ripped off. She was alone in here, and had no choice but to either kill this thing, or find away to escape it.

Before she could get back to her feet, it charged at her and swung one of it's thick arms wide, trying to slam her back into the wall behind her. She rolled out of the way, landing a few feet away and trying to stand once more. Her balance was off, but she forced herself upright, and prepared for its next assault.

Ivan disliked listening to music, as it always seemed to simple and repetitive to him. People gathered into crowded halls and bathed in each other's body odor and perfume to listen to a twenty minute peace named after some sweet sounding phenomena like Joy or Springtime. Perhaps there were true artists among musicians but he had never witnessed anything in those halls that made him feel anything beyond dreary.

But when admired works on canvas, careful and chaotic strokes of brilliant color, he was moved. Any pianist could play another's concerto, but no two artists in his mind could truly mimic one another's work. Each stroke was a culmination of a man's life, his experiences, and the precise moment at which brush touched canvas. That was why Ivan took up painting. And the deep, aching urge to set himself apart from other masters was why he demanded his medium be unique. No one painted like him, and no one used paint like his. Only in this way could he truly consider himself an artist.

She was more than a woman, and yet less. Her appetites might be seen as depraved my some, but she knew what she wanted and craved, and it would be years before she no longer had the power to obtain it.

Each night she cleaned herself, dressed, and made her way down form her apartment to the streets below where the common folk shuffled between shadows. They roamed around like wild dogs, biting and snapping at one another over anything they could justify. She'd seen one man beat another with a bloodied wrench because he spat on his jacket. These were the beasts she spent her time with. But even among them, she needed something special. Something specific.

When she found the perfect specimen, she approached meekly. Usually she would claim she needed directions, or that she had lost her wallet and wanted help getting home. More often than not, they were kind enough to agree to help, but sometimes they told her to walk the other way. Those ones were her favorite.

Today, the young man cut to the chase. He commented on her ass, which was squeezed tight into the skirt she had chosen. She laughed and thanked him, which encouraged him to continue. Within an hour, she was in his car. Within three, she was pulling her clothes back on, and he was bleeding out on his own bed.

Checkmate

clap.gif you motherfucker

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This thread has singlehandedly sapped my will to live.

You had a will to live in the first place? I've always just been too lazy to kill myself

Anyone have that NHK ni youkosou gif?

"No."

>Noble's daughter falls victim of a jealous witch's small head curse

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>"You have beaten me, fare and square. Without the use of your magical skills." Said the wounded lady-knight. "You have beaten me fairly, that treasure that is sitting inside that abandoned building and what you and me dueled for is all your's." The defeated lady-knight sunk her head in defeat.

>The Battlemage seathed her own sword and approached the defeated combatant with her right hand glowing with magic

>"I see you are going to finish the job of neutralizing me for good? Very well, I do not mind for such a fate is of expected. Again, you have beaten me fair and square and such an outcome should seem surprising-"

>Just as the defeated Lady-Knight was lamenting her supposed fate, the Battlemage did not execute her with magic. But instead healed the knight with a healing spell that healed the knight's injuries that was sustained during their duel as the act surprised her.

>"But... Why??? You have defeated me, and such a feat is humiliating and disgraceful for me. I deserve the lose, I deserve the outcome for not being a hardened enough warrior. Why do you choose to do this?" The lady-knight asked.

>And the Battlemage replied with a gentle and warm smile. "Because it's too early fro a brave, noble, and kind hearted person such as yourself to die right now. And I've seen your acts of kindness as I've read your mind... Now come on up, the healing spell should fix the rest of your wounds within moments. And I think its best we both split the loot amongst ourselves... And how about we both become friends too?"

>And with that, the knight smiled with relief and bliss.

I liked that story

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He did it, he finally did it!
With a triumphant smile he activated his fourth and final creation. It took a long time to perfect his algorithms and the AI subroutines but now he had four perfect specimen of robotic perfection:
The dopey one, the sweet one, the energetic one and now, finally, the Tsundere.
He couldn't be happier as his robot waifus came to life and he could play out the harem fantasy he had for the longest time.

But user thats few! That was not 3 or 5 lines of greentext!

>NOOOOOOOO OOOOONE!!!!!!!!
>Deer antlers for decoratin
>Gaston!!!

>Indeed King Albert is an old man

>He has ruled his vast kingdom for seventy years as a firm and benevolent leader who was just and fair and knew when to use his might at a neccessary and given time

>And now he is old and reaching decriptitude as his much younger and fairer children will take the reins of leadership and lead his kingdom under new leadership and new prosperity

>Old King Albert is glad and happy his kingdom is in good hands with his children who're good leaders themeselves, along with good and loyal advisers to help them aswell

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