Thread: ATM II RPG
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Old 06-12-2007, 02:42 PM   #329
Diamond18
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Upon entering the graveyard, Skittles tripped and fell into an open grave.

She landed facedown upon a fresh corpse, which was somewhat unnerving. The body was wrapped in cloth, but a stench still clung to the obscured figure. She struggled free and stood up, panting. "Hissyfit!" she cried. "Hissyfit! I've fallen!"

In a few minutes, the triangular face of her trusty friend appeared at the edge of the rectangular patch of sky. "Apparently," Hissyfit remarked dryly.

"The grave is too deep to climb out," Skittle complained. "I need help."

Hissyfit yawned. "I don't have opposable thumbs, I don't see what you expect me to do."

"Find someone who does!"

"Oh very well," Hissyfit sighed, looking very put out. Her face disappeared, and Skittles settled down to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

For a time, Skittles amused herself by forming shapes out of the damp, freshly churned earth. Then that became boring, and she peeked inside the wrapping to look at the corpse, which looked about as good as it smelled. She let her imagination wander, envisioning various ways to kill Hissyfit. The stench became more and more overwhelming, and darkness took her. The stars wheeled overhead, and every minute was as long as a life age of the earth.

Eventually, she began to see the folly in waiting. For a cat. So she mustered all the strength in her pale arms and dug her hands into the loamy walls of her prison. For a moment or two it seemed as if she would be able to scale said walls, but then it came loose in her hands and she fell back. Cursing, she stood and brushed herself off.

A wereduck flew overheard, blood dripping from its beak, and Skittles gaped upwards. New resolve struck her, and she screamed like a madwoman (fittingly) as she again attempted to claw her way to freedom.

Several more times she flung herself at the walls, only for the dirt to tumble down around her. This gave Skittle an idea, for she was both insane and resourceful. She unwrapped the body and wrenched one arm from its decaying socket. It made a rather disgusting squelchy noise, but Skittles had no time to waste on squeamishness. She began to hack away at the dirt with the exposed humerus, causing a cascade of falling earth to accumulate around her.

Eventually, after an immeasureable time spent digging with her macabre tool, Skittles succeeded in widening the grave and knocking down enough dirt to raise her towards the surface. She dropped the arm and scrambled out of the grave.

Hissyfit lay nearby, curled up on a fleece blanket, purring in her sleep.

Skittles said something to her, which I cannot repeat, but roughly translated, meant, "What are you doing?"

Hissyfit awoke and yawned. "Oh, so sorry," she said. "Someone just happened to leave that blanket lying there and I was done for."

"Argh!" Skittles cried, but made no move to act on her previous fantasies. She could not harm her somewhat-faithful companion, as much as she might wish to.

She spat mud out of her mouth and wiped her face, then, drawing forth a switchblade, went to look for someone to punish.

She came across an army of Orcs, and slaughtered them. Then she lay waste to a flock of wereducks. A pack of werewolves sought to eat her, and she left them in various stages of bloodied ruin. She met a terrifying creature with a bouquet of flowers for a head, and sprayed it with industrial strength weedkiller. Insert whatever other foes were lurking about the graveyard, and imagine a suitable fate for them [here].

Eventually, exhausted, she lay down her weapons, and fell asleep underneath a tombstone in the likeness of the Eiffel Tower. She had many dreams as she slumbered there; one in which she floated on a sea of poppies, one in which Tom Felton professed his undying love for her whilst juggling flaming accordians, and one in which a wheel of cheese came to life and tried to eat her.

Last edited by Diamond18; 06-16-2007 at 06:31 PM.
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