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«12. . .25,91325,91425,91525,91625,91725,91825,919. . .78,92578,926»

Plazland wrote:> ->

just stands around, waiting for something important to happen
"Thanks"

takes it before dropping a bottle, and using the mace in it's place

puts the mace out the Plazland hands

Plazland wrote:what
the mods just stripped me from my thot powers
*cry's*

I still want my thot powers back, mods ;~;

Shavara

The new volksburg states

BearStackof2015 wrote:3RD QUARTER ENERGY

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ TAKE MY ENERGY ROCKETS ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ TAKE MY ENERGY ROCKETS ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ TAKE MY ENERGY ROCKETS ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

Likes because nobody else did

The angel of charity, The Holy Utopian Republic, and BearStackof2015

Shavara wrote:Listens to this song
https://youtu.be/gvjOG5gboFU

*sighs in That Civil War RP was good...*

Ah, memories.

The Rockets didn’t get hit with the onslaught yet!?!

Pakitsk wrote:RIP Gopnik

u came back!!

Shavara wrote:Ah, memories.

remember when Soland was Elm's..

clears throat

Elm's "Friend", you could say lightly, for a while?

Peatiktist and Shavara

Gesseria wrote:Ahh, it seems you did. Your economy just took a downturn.

My people are apparently pretty compassionate, although not Sulfuric Aid.

...and I'm contradicting my earlier statement.

RIP Gesseria whoever they were

Plazland wrote:remember when Soland was Elm's..

clears throat

Elm's "Friend", you could say lightly, for a while?

RIP Plazlandd

Plazland wrote:Hardrock fat absorbs the glass, turning the wounds into useless holes in my skin.

My mace starts to whir faster.

The mace suddenly breaks out of the spin in an impossible maneuver and mashes into your shoulder.

Plazland, Pakitsk, and Shavara

Plazland wrote:remember when Soland was Elm's..

clears throat

Elm's "Friend", you could say lightly, for a while?

Oh, speaking about Elem.

Let me send you a telegram.

James edward harden

Even though I’m not on the court, can you give the Rockets your energy to power to beat the Golden State Marsupials?

Shavara wrote:Oh, speaking about Elem.

Let me send you a telegram.

How did you know though?

Plazland and Shavara

Shavara wrote:Oh, speaking about Elem.

Let me send you a telegram.

um, okay

Zukchiva wrote:The mace suddenly breaks out of the spin in an impossible maneuver and mashes into your shoulder.

I think you quoted the wrong post

Zukchiva, Shavara, and The angel of charity

The angel of charity

Zukchiva Shavara

Yuri Shoboshi idly sips her coffee as she looks over sattelite reconnaissance feed from the vast maritime tracking network headquartered at Fubuki Naval base. God this is boring, Zukchiva and Shavara declare a war, and this us all we get? She pans through the feeds, when something catches her eye. A destroyer heading towards the naval base, about 550km out. Gotcha b*tch.

Yuri hums to herself as she continues panning, and gradually the sheer scale of the attack becomes clear. Good God... Ibuki needs to know about this. Yuri turns to her superior, yelling; "Hey Kiri, check this out! There are a bunch of Shav hostiles inbound, big fleet."

Informations director Kiroi Amazashi walks over to the terminal, looking it over. A cigarette dangles from his lips, his dark black hair messy and wild. His eyes narrow as he scans through it all. After a second he pulls away; "I'll inform the admiral, locate the enemy capital ships. We'll prepare AA/AD weapons, and likely carrier killers will be needed."

Yuri nods, turning back to the terminal and beginning to hunt down the enemy from her god-like vantage point. Fubuki had already downed every enemy sattelite in range early in the conflict, hopefully evening out their reliance on static defenses. She types the coordinates of her finds into the computer, AI would follow them now and update the map regularly by following their motion. Fubuki was really three concentric rings of islands, surrounding the core island, the base itself. A perfect natural defense for the naval Base, thirty six airfields, thousands of aircraft, and hundreds of individual fortresses built up the layers, almost like an onion.

At first nothing happens before, playing out in miniature on her sattelite feeds, bases are engulfed in white smoke, the first antiship heavy ballistic missiles have been fired. The first attack would be comprised of a first strike of four hundred ballistic missiles aimed at capital ship's, and then aircraft with long range vision denial weapons would take over.

As she watches the missiles streak in with a silent reverie, Kiroi calls out to her. "Yuri, new task. Find the Zukchivan fleet while we still have sat feed left."

Right. Just because one fleet gets spotted doesn't mean the rest are. Focus goddamnit. Yuri shakes her head and resumes the hunt, the game has begun.

Plazland, Pakitsk, Zukchiva, Shavara, and 1 otherTenkyoku

Plazland wrote:um, okay
I think you quoted the wrong post

But it's by you

The angel of charity wrote:Zukchiva Shavara

Yuri Shoboshi idly sips her coffee as she looks over sattelite reconnaissance feed from the vast maritime tracking network headquartered at Fubuki Naval base. God this is boring, Zukchiva and Shavara declare a war, and this us all we get? She pans through the feeds, when something catches her eye. A destroyer heading towards the naval base, about 550km out. Gotcha b*tch.

Yuri hums to herself as she continues panning, and gradually the sheer scale of the attack becomes clear. Good God... Ibuki needs to know about this. Yuri turns to her superior, yelling; "Hey Kiri, check this out! There are a bunch of Shav hostiles inbound, big fleet."

Informations director Kiroi Amazashi walks over to the terminal, looking it over. A cigarette dangles from his lips, his dark black hair messy and wild. His eyes narrow as he scans through it all. After a second he pulls away; "I'll inform the admiral, locate the enemy capital ships. We'll prepare AA/AD weapons, and likely carrier killers will be needed."

Yuri nods, turning back to the terminal and beginning to hunt down the enemy from her god-like vantage point. Fubuki had already downed every enemy sattelite in range early in the conflict, hopefully evening out their reliance on static defenses. She types the coordinates of her finds into the computer, AI would follow them now and update the map regularly by following their motion. Fubuki was really three concentric rings of islands, surrounding the core island, the base itself. A perfect natural defense for the naval Base, thirty six airfields, thousands of aircraft, and hundreds of individual fortresses built up the layers, almost like an onion.

At first nothing happens before, playing out in miniature on her sattelite feeds, bases are engulfed in white smoke, the first antiship heavy ballistic missiles have been fired. The first attack would be comprised of a first strike of four hundred ballistic missiles aimed at capital ship's, and then aircraft with long range vision denial weapons would take over.

As she watches the missiles streak in with a silent reverie, Kiroi calls out to her. "Yuri, new task. Find the Zukchivan fleet while we still have sat feed left."

Right. Just because one fleet gets spotted doesn't mean the rest are. Focus goddamnit. Yuri shakes her head and resumes the hunt, the game has begun.

Owo

Plazland, Pakitsk, Shavara, and The angel of charity

The angel of charity

Zukchiva wrote:But it's by youOwo

Sorry for low quality >-<

In 3, all will all of y’all give the Rockets your energy to help beat the Golden State Warriors? It’s 85-81 with 1:36 in the 3rd
GOLDEN STATE HAS THEIR BIG 5 TOO? THIS IS TOO GOOD TOO BE TRUE
Lakers just fell below .500 :)

The angel of charity

Tenkyoku

Agony.

All-consuming, excruciating agony was all she felt.

She didn’t dare open her eyes. It would hurt too much. She felt it, fluid pouring through her nose, suffocating her yet leaving her alive, drowning her yet burning her, consuming her yet rejuvenating her. Her entire body was suspended in a cage of liquid, liquid that was clear yet impossible to see through, which tasted of nothing, smelled of nothing, felt like water yet cleansed her and destroyed her. How long had she been here, trapped, drifting, floating? Faced with no escape but her thoughts, yet...she did not desire escape. For she knew what this had to be. This was the purgatory prior to true paradise. This was the pathway to ascension to true Heaven. By Her will, She was engulfed by torment, and as she served Her, she would not resist it.

Consciousness flickered like the light of a candle, bright and dim, on and off. Awake and asleep, the same sensations permeating everything, the same everpresent agony. But she did not cry out, did not scream off a saviour. This was the trial before Blessing. It was then she heard it, a voice speaking as if her own mind. Accept this, it told her. Do not resist. And she obeyed. She submitted to Her will, and everyyying went dark, and when the light returned not a thing had changed. She was still burning, still slowly dying as she was reborn with this blessing. And as countless changes of conciseness continued, she bean to grow wary of her confines. How long had it been? Had she been trapped forever? Why did it hurt so much? Was She truly divine? Of course She was! Forgive me, my goddess! My lack of faith...I am unworthy of this honour...

Do you wish to be worthy of it? Yes. I will do anything...to make up for that instant if heresy. I swear, I am faithful! I...it just hurts...so much...I must redeem myself...redemption at any cost...I belong to Her. All belongs to Her. Nothing may defy Her will. And so, accept your blessing. She felt it in her mind, an urge, a desire, an inescapable instinct to obey Her. Moreso than her past learning, moreso than anything, like a central, overriding command she could never defy, regardless of circumstance. It was a part of her. She could argue with Her, she could speak with Her and even disagree with Her...but she could never disobey, never lose her loyalty.

She forced her eyes open. The burning was too strong. She felt her skin melting, her mind going with it, everything falling apart. Had it been too long? Had she been...rejected? She was going to die in agony. Everything was scorched, everything was charred, her entire body beginning to fade away, her will to live undone. She was not a person . She was a thing. An instrument of Her will, nothing more. To die was irrelevant. All was as She willed, and if this death was part of that will...so be it. Her eyes hurt most of all, burning without end, as vision became blurred, then dim, then finally black.

In that moment, the fluid began to drain. The doors to the vat opened, and she stumbled onto the ground, coughing, helpless. But she felt it within her, a renewed vigour, a regenerated form, and most of all...she sensed it. Pride...concern...happiness...terror...she felt it, and it was not her own...

——————————————

Omistu opened her eyes, and saw nothing.

This was reality for her. Everything was black. Her hearing was weak. She could smell nothing. Her skin was soft, delicate, and most of all, numb. Her tongue could not tell the difference between taste, only texture. And her eyesight...no longer existed. A bandage-like blindfold covered her eyes now, though it barely mattered. Even without it, she saw nothing. But she did not need to. For, though lacking sight...she saw better than any she knew, save She Beyond Divinity hrself. Omitsu was not omniscient. But when others came near, she felt them. Their presence. And above all else...their feelings. Hot and cold. Pain and bliss. Joy and misery. Subservience and defiance. Each soul was like maelstrom, a web of intertwined thoughts, and though seeking the specifics still eluded her, Omitsu could draw upon those feelings to form an image of any she encountered.

She did not well perceive the world of others, but she could see better than any other their own perception of that world. She was, indeed, the first Blessed of this new world. And so, though her ability made her suitable for tasks of many natures, her primary appointment was that of War Mistress. It would not be her only purpose- anything She asked of her, she would do- but it was her primary one. To think...a girl who could not see, could barely take in reality, had been tasked with the honourable and inevitable task of exterminating heresy.

And that perception was not her only strength. For, when she focused...she could tug on those imaginary strings, manipulate those invisible pipelines of emotion. She could flood one man with the pain of those around him, or take on happiness for her own delight. It was an imperfect art, but...it had potential. And so, Omistu sat, seeing nothing, yet knowing she was surrounded by children and adults alike to keep her safe. As she couldn’t see, they had to read aloud any reports she received. But she barely needed to. From that influx of emotions, she gained enough knowledge. Omitsu had been cursed by her Blessing, the process having gone awry, almost kiling her, and defiling her sense. But...the Blessing she had gained...the divine power with which she’d been imbued...that made up for everything. Nothing could surpass Her will, and so, nothing would interfere with Omitsu as she aided in such pursuits. In the end...what was reality? A junction where mind and bodie intersected, a playground of irrelevant wills compared to Her divinity, a paradise unmade. To lose sight of such a world was little loss. Omistu’s world was a greater one, a world of true clarity, a world where no feeling was unknown, where she could judge others based not on their faces, but their thoughts.

Such was the fate of the first of the Blessed in a cursed world.

And one day, she hoped, this world would be redeemed through heresy’s annihilation.

Fedele, Plazland, Pakitsk, Shavara, and 1 otherThe angel of charity

Is god actually trying to let the Rockets win after that Pelicans game? How is this possible? The Rockets are gonna lose the 4th quarter by 20, right?

The angel of charity

Tenkyoku wrote:

Agony.

All-consuming, excruciating agony was all she felt.

She didn’t dare open her eyes. It would hurt too much. She felt it, fluid pouring through her nose, suffocating her yet leaving her alive, drowning her yet burning her, consuming her yet rejuvenating her. Her entire body was suspended in a cage of liquid, liquid that was clear yet impossible to see through, which tasted of nothing, smelled of nothing, felt like water yet cleansed her and destroyed her. How long had she been here, trapped, drifting, floating? Faced with no escape but her thoughts, yet...she did not desire escape. For she knew what this had to be. This was the purgatory prior to true paradise. This was the pathway to ascension to true Heaven. By Her will, She was engulfed by torment, and as she served Her, she would not resist it.

Consciousness flickered like the light of a candle, bright and dim, on and off. Awake and asleep, the same sensations permeating everything, the same everpresent agony. But she did not cry out, did not scream off a saviour. This was the trial before Blessing. It was then she heard it, a voice speaking as if her own mind. Accept this, it told her. Do not resist. And she obeyed. She submitted to Her will, and everyyying went dark, and when the light returned not a thing had changed. She was still burning, still slowly dying as she was reborn with this blessing. And as countless changes of conciseness continued, she bean to grow wary of her confines. How long had it been? Had she been trapped forever? Why did it hurt so much? Was She truly divine? Of course She was! Forgive me, my goddess! My lack of faith...I am unworthy of this honour...

Do you wish to be worthy of it? Yes. I will do anything...to make up for that instant if heresy. I swear, I am faithful! I...it just hurts...so much...I must redeem myself...redemption at any cost...I belong to Her. All belongs to Her. Nothing may defy Her will. And so, accept your blessing. She felt it in her mind, an urge, a desire, an inescapable instinct to obey Her. Moreso than her past learning, moreso than anything, like a central, overriding command she could never defy, regardless of circumstance. It was a part of her. She could argue with Her, she could speak with Her and even disagree with Her...but she could never disobey, never lose her loyalty.

She forced her eyes open. The burning was too strong. She felt her skin melting, her mind going with it, everything falling apart. Had it been too long? Had she been...rejected? She was going to die in agony. Everything was scorched, everything was charred, her entire body beginning to fade away, her will to live undone. She was not a person . She was a thing. An instrument of Her will, nothing more. To die was irrelevant. All was as She willed, and if this death was part of that will...so be it. Her eyes hurt most of all, burning without end, as vision became blurred, then dim, then finally black.

In that moment, the fluid began to drain. The doors to the vat opened, and she stumbled onto the ground, coughing, helpless. But she felt it within her, a renewed vigour, a regenerated form, and most of all...she sensed it. Pride...concern...happiness...terror...she felt it, and it was not her own...

——————————————

Omistu opened her eyes, and saw nothing.

This was reality for her. Everything was black. Her hearing was weak. She could smell nothing. Her skin was soft, delicate, and most of all, numb. Her tongue could not tell the difference between taste, only texture. And her eyesight...no longer existed. A bandage-like blindfold covered her eyes now, though it barely mattered. Even without it, she saw nothing. But she did not need to. For, though lacking sight...she saw better than any she knew, save She Beyond Divinity hrself. Omitsu was not omniscient. But when others came near, she felt them. Their presence. And above all else...their feelings. Hot and cold. Pain and bliss. Joy and misery. Subservience and defiance. Each soul was like maelstrom, a web of intertwined thoughts, and though seeking the specifics still eluded her, Omitsu could draw upon those feelings to form an image of any she encountered.

She did not well perceive the world of others, but she could see better than any other their own perception of that world. She was, indeed, the first Blessed of this new world. And so, though her ability made her suitable for tasks of many natures, her primary appointment was that of War Mistress. It would not be her only purpose- anything She asked of her, she would do- but it was her primary one. To think...a girl who could not see, could barely take in reality, had been tasked with the honourable and inevitable task of exterminating heresy.

And that perception was not her only strength. For, when she focused...she could tug on those imaginary strings, manipulate those invisible pipelines of emotion. She could flood one man with the pain of those around him, or take on happiness for her own delight. It was an imperfect art, but...it had potential. And so, Omistu sat, seeing nothing, yet knowing she was surrounded by children and adults alike to keep her safe. As she couldn’t see, they had to read aloud any reports she received. But she barely needed to. From that influx of emotions, she gained enough knowledge. Omitsu had been cursed by her Blessing, the process having gone awry, almost kiling her, and defiling her sense. But...the Blessing she had gained...the divine power with which she’d been imbued...that made up for everything. Nothing could surpass Her will, and so, nothing would interfere with Omitsu as she aided in such pursuits. In the end...what was reality? A junction where mind and bodie intersected, a playground of irrelevant wills compared to Her divinity, a paradise unmade. To lose sight of such a world was little loss. Omistu’s world was a greater one, a world of true clarity, a world where no feeling was unknown, where she could judge others based not on their faces, but their thoughts.

Such was the fate of the first of the Blessed than a cursed world.

And one day, she hoped, this world would be redeemed through heresy’s annihilation.

[i]B U R N T H E H E R E T I C S[/i]

Pakitsk and Shavara

Post by BearStackof2015 suppressed by The angel of charity.

4TH QUARTER ENERGY

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ TAKE MY ENERGY ROCKETS ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ TAKE MY ENERGY ROCKETS ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ TAKE MY ENERGY ROCKETS ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

The angel of charity

:/

Shavara, The Holy Utopian Republic, and Stalinbear

The angel of charity wrote:Zukchiva Shavara

Yuri Shoboshi idly sips her coffee as she looks over sattelite reconnaissance feed from the vast maritime tracking network headquartered at Fubuki Naval base. God this is boring, Zukchiva and Shavara declare a war, and this us all we get? She pans through the feeds, when something catches her eye. A destroyer heading towards the naval base, about 550km out. Gotcha b*tch.

Yuri hums to herself as she continues panning, and gradually the sheer scale of the attack becomes clear. Good God... Ibuki needs to know about this. Yuri turns to her superior, yelling; "Hey Kiri, check this out! There are a bunch of Shav hostiles inbound, big fleet."

Informations director Kiroi Amazashi walks over to the terminal, looking it over. A cigarette dangles from his lips, his dark black hair messy and wild. His eyes narrow as he scans through it all. After a second he pulls away; "I'll inform the admiral, locate the enemy capital ships. We'll prepare AA/AD weapons, and likely carrier killers will be needed."

Yuri nods, turning back to the terminal and beginning to hunt down the enemy from her god-like vantage point. Fubuki had already downed every enemy sattelite in range early in the conflict, hopefully evening out their reliance on static defenses. She types the coordinates of her finds into the computer, AI would follow them now and update the map regularly by following their motion. Fubuki was really three concentric rings of islands, surrounding the core island, the base itself. A perfect natural defense for the naval Base, thirty six airfields, thousands of aircraft, and hundreds of individual fortresses built up the layers, almost like an onion.

At first nothing happens before, playing out in miniature on her sattelite feeds, bases are engulfed in white smoke, the first antiship heavy ballistic missiles have been fired. The first attack would be comprised of a first strike of four hundred ballistic missiles aimed at capital ship's, and then aircraft with long range vision denial weapons would take over.

As she watches the missiles streak in with a silent reverie, Kiroi calls out to her. "Yuri, new task. Find the Zukchivan fleet while we still have sat feed left."

Right. Just because one fleet gets spotted doesn't mean the rest are. Focus goddamnit. Yuri shakes her head and resumes the hunt, the game has begun.

The whole Shavaran armada, still going towards the waters of the Fubuki naval base, is increasingly slowing down speed, inside the Command ship of the 45th fleet, which is a leading fleet, Admiral Javier grabs a microphone to Vitavox speakers all around the command ship.
"All ships of the armada, stop right in this coordinate."

The order was repeated by fleet admirals and advisors across the armada to stop all ships from going forward, the order was followed, all ships DID stop at a coordinate to prevent from crossing the fire range line.

"This is Admiral Javier Torres, all submarines of the armada, find any targets underwater, if you see a single Charitian or Zukchivan subs or ships, destroy them with torpedoes immediately, protect the fleets from danger." Javier gave another order, but this time, not through Vitavox speakers, but through communication systems, because the Vitavox is loud.

A number of 50 Submarines are scouting underwater with Search-And-Destroy mode on, all of these subs are undetectable, but it doesn't mean that they are 100% invincible from sight or sound waves.

All ships of the Armada besides subs prepare their Shell cannons, missile launchers, torpedo launchers, and Anti-Air SAM batteries and turrets, both regular and Super Carriers deploy a number of 300 Falcon-S-30 Jet Fighters to guard the whole fleet.

The armada isn't going forward the waters, they are waiting for somethin'.

"This is going to be one hell of a battle."

OOC: It's not good quality ;-;

Plazland, Pakitsk, Zukchiva, and The angel of charity

Restoration of Eastern Kaiserreich wrote::/

What’s that face for?

Pakitsk and Shavara

«12. . .25,91325,91425,91525,91625,91725,91825,919. . .78,92578,926»

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