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Hey, Forumers. You had better find something to eat before night comes...


Battal
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67 members have voted

  1. 1. What do you think about this new story type thing.

    • Really cool, have my reputation!
    • It's neat.
    • Eh, meh...
    • Nah.
    • I wish it would die in a muddy ditch, alone, without friends, family, or HOPE!


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This seems like it'll be an interesting thing, especially once it becomes fully fleshed out with all the unfortunate souls revealed.

 

The only thing I'm wondering is how you'll 'group' the characters you'll have in the story. Will you keep them separated until the confrontation against Maxwell or will you allow them to find each other?

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This seems like it'll be an interesting thing, especially once it becomes fully fleshed out with all the unfortunate souls revealed.

 

The only thing I'm wondering is how you'll 'group' the characters you'll have in the story. Will you keep them separated until the confrontation against Maxwell or will you allow them to find each other?

I have absolutely no idea.

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Segment 7

"Nobody Likes Times New Roman Anyways"

 

The small rabbit gnawed at the grass cautiously, taking looks around him at regular intervals.  It knew the dangers of feeding this close to THE FACTORY, but everywhere else the grass has been chewed to the ground.  The rabbit, like all small animals in the area, knew about the dangers that THE FACTORY held.  He had seen the horrors that came out of that place, seen his friends horribly mutilated by the terror that lurked within.  Once you were within the clutches of the one who dwelled within THE FACTORY...there was no escape.

 

The dining rabbit was oblivious to a small, pale figure creeping up behind it.  It had a vaguely humanoid shape, with round, glinting shapes in place of its eyes.  A long, thin needle was clasped in one hand, a drop of crimson still hanging on it.  In the other, it held a spool of black thread.  The creature stepped out of the shadows cast by THE FACTORY, and then, the rabbit saw him.  It made a frightened sound, but the humanoid shape moved with lightning speed, wrapping a bit of thread around the rabbits neck.  With surprising strength, it dragged the unfortunate animal into a drainage pipe, and into the depths of THE FACTORY.

 

The next day, the rabbit hopped out of the drainage pipe, relatively unharmed.  It went back to chewing grass, right where it had been already.  There was, however, one difference about the animal, one that sent chills down the spine of whoever saw it there on out.  In place of its eyes, there were two round, glinting shapes.

 

They were buttons.

 

@ the Sentient Voodoo had been living in the Smielderfell Button Factory for as long as he could remember.  The abandoned workplace had plenty of buttons and needles with which to pursue his craft, which was mainly sewing buttons into things and mutilating already dead hamsters.  (The place was infested with them, for reasons nobody to this day knows.)  Pecival made his home high in the rafters, and had a somewhat substantial living quarters in a gap between the wall and an ancient vent.  Being (technically) a doll, he required little comforts and so the space was sparsely decorated, with only a makeshift bed, a small desk and a few pieces of colored yarn lying around. 

 

One day, Pecival began to feel extremely tired.  Not having the same qualms with sleeping as Battal had, he had a rest.  And...well, use your imagination.

Edited by Lord_Battal
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I shall write about what I think of while I dream, if you don't mind.

And I'm a homunculus. Research next time.

Floating gently, falling through memories that aren't mine. A mere imitation of human life, I have the deepest wish to be introduced to reality.

An outcast by normal society, I simply created my own world where I fit. Now, in this world, everyone wants to be friends. Everyone loves me. Everyone puts me in their highest honor.

And if they don't, they die.

After all, toys are meant to be played with until they break. When my friends break, I simply make more.

Friends are easily replaceable, don't you think?

And yet, they talk behind my back, unaware of all the 'eyes' I keep hanging around. At least I have spare parts.

Sigh.

Why must they talk about me? Even if I am an imitation, I still have feelings. If they are blind to that fact, then I'll make them permanently blind.

Since I don't really draw the back of my, let me tell you there is a zipper there. My head has space to hold materials.

Edited by Pecival
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The only thing that I'm thinking of as I read this is "Why are you being so mean Maxwell?"

 

I mean, sure we've played the game but it's still a bit cruel to bring so many people all at once...

 

I curse my inactivity for nearly a year, Perhaps I'd feel more inclined to ask if I could join if I actually posted here during that time.

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I shall write about what I think of while I dream, if you don't mind.

And I'm a homunculus. Research next time.

Floating gently, falling through memories that aren't mine. A mere imitation of human life, I have the deepest wish to be introduced to reality.

An outcast by normal society, I simply created my own world where I fit. Now, in this world, everyone wants to be friends. Everyone loves me. Everyone puts me in their highest honor.

And if they don't, they die.

After all, toys are meant to be played with until they break. When my friends break, I simply make more.

Friends are easily replaceable, don't you think?

And yet, they talk behind my back, unaware of all the 'eyes' I keep hanging around. At least I have spare parts.

Sigh.

Why must they talk about me? Even if I am an imitation, I still have feelings. If they are blind to that fact, then I'll make them permanently blind.

Since I don't really draw the back of my, let me tell you there is a zipper there. My head has space to hold materials.

That reminds me vaguely of Coraline. Edited by KidneyBeanBoy
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