I think it's funny in a closed setup to use commonly-used names for roles but then give it a different night power. Then if the guy tries to claim people will think it's fake
Oh yeah and I would've added @Gamut as a non-voting PR mid-game if you guys had explored the forest and found him but unfortunately the game never reached that point. Thanks for signing buddy. I had the perfect role in mind for you this game (eaten by bear)
I would have explored the forest had i not been zeused
I agree it was too bad you got zeused. I won't apologize though. You should apologize to me (and to the town) for getting yourself zeused
I am an excellent roleplay (my dungeon master told me this)
that morning, while out at the creek refilling my water and washing my smelly balls, i noticed what appeared to be a trail cut into the thick forest brush. Captivated, i begin to follow it without notifying the rest of the camp. I quickly realize that this trail is fairly heavily traveled. But by what sort of creature, i cannot tell. As best as i can tell, many different creatures of different sizes can and do make this route, but there are no footprints to be seen, or marks of any kind.
At times, when the forest isnt as thick, the trail seems to meander and jut into branches like veins as it carves its way over rock, alongside creeks, around lakes, and through bug infested grassy lowlands. Which branch i take, however does not seem to matter, or at least hasnt yet. From what i can tell, these veins always reculminate into into a singular snaking sidewinder jutting right through the otherwise thick and unpassable forest fauna. At this point i realize that i never did reequip my trousers, my balls hanging proudly and diligently, the ghastly pair stare up at me menacingly from a reflection of water atop a concaved cake of mud enlaid on the floor of this fanatical forest
After long, i smell smoke. Cigarette smoke. Booze too. The smell is distinct, probably from a repressed memory. Its dreadful. I keep walking anyway. I look around. The trees, all tapped with some wooden instrument, bleeding into small pales on the ground of varying fullfillidness. Maple syrup is being harvested. I continue walking. To my left a canadian flag. To my right, cigarette butts and "tool" concert tickets on the ground. Folded up lawnchairs surround me. A cabin appears. A canadian flag hangs. I read a sign "Gamuts Cabin". But theres blood. And what appears to me a small boys corpse, no its gamuts. Hes lying there dead. Mauled to death? Blood sucked to death? Lichlings werewolf cosplay gone sexual and then wrong?"
Thats probably what i would have posted had my life not been taken from me unfairily
strongest sheriff ive ever seen
Welcome Gamut. We finally found you in the forest. Just a little late to stop the bear
Let me know if you ever require more creative writing
I am much better at it than you.
Especially when im in a potential manic upswing mood
- jdance
- theGreatWingidingi
0 voters
I updated my writing based on feedback from my editor (me)
that morning, while out at the creek refilling my water and washing my smelly balls, i noticed what appeared to be a trail cut into the thick forest brush. Captivated, i begin to follow it without notifying the rest of the camp. I quickly realize that this trail is fairly heavily traveled. But by what sort of creature, i cannot tell. It seems that many different creatures of different sizes could feasibly make this route, but there are no footprints to be seen, nor marks of any kind.
At times, when the forest isnt as thick, the trail seems to meander and jut into branches like veins as it carves its way over rock, alongside creeks, around lakes, and through bug infested grassy lowlands. Which branch i take, however does not seem to matter, or at least hasnt yet. From what i can tell, these veins always reculminate into into a singular snaking sidewinder jutting right through the otherwise thick and unpassable forest fauna. At this point i realize that i never did reequip my trousers, my balls hanging proudly and diligently, the ghastly pair stare up at me menacingly from a reflection of water atop a concaved cake of mud enlaid on the floor of this fanatical forest
After long, i smell smoke. Cigarette smoke. Booze too. The smell is distinct, probably from a repressed memory. Its dreadful. I keep walking anyway. I look around. The trees, all tapped with some wooden instrument, bleeding into small pales on the ground of varying fullfillidness. Maple syrup is being harvested. I continue walking. To my left a canadian flag. To my right, cigarette butts and "tool" concert tickets on the ground. Folded up lawnchairs surround me. A cabin appears. A canadian flag hangs. I read a sign "Gamuts Cabin". But theres blood. And what appears to me a small boys corpse, no its gamuts. Hes lying there dead. Mauled to death? Blood sucked to death? Lichlings werewolf cosplay gone sexual and then wrong?"
- Alightsoul
- Jdance
- you
0 voters
Hahaha ■■■ cant even get the poll right
No, I voted for you.