OTTHUNDERDOME I : THE THUNDERVAULT - HOME OF THE GOODS
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COLD

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Post by alyaza Tue Jun 10, 2014 7:47 pm

i'm experimenting with the magic of a different type of storytelling.


me, being dumb, parte i wrote:YOU WAKE UP ONE PARTICULARLY depressing Feburary morning with an uncanny feeling that today will rank high amongst your worst days ever. Maybe it has to do with how you've found yourself passed out on the very hard floor of your library. Or it could be because of the weather, that too -- as a matter of fact, somewhere in the vast repository that is your mind you vaguely recall the forecast for today being snowy and cold. Or maybe that was yesterday -- or tomorrow, perhaps? You can't even remember, between the copious amount of alcohol that you no doubt still have in you and the mind-numbingly painful hangover you're presently suffering.

How you ever slept in this state is a mystery to you. Probably you took one too many of those cider shots when you were out last night, or whatever it was you did. You're not even sure of how you got in this state in the first place, but it certainly must have been quite the smash. You try hard to rack your brain for any information that might clue you in, but nothing turns up. Apparently, you're going to have to wait until your friends remind you. If they ever get out of the hangovers you're certain they must be suffering from, that is. The only times you've ever willed yourself to drink have been with them around, so why would this be any different? Whatever, it probably doesn't matter anyways.

Slowly, you find the strength to hoist yourself on to your very unsteady hooves. Whatever you were sipping last night was pretty damn strong, if you're still a little tipsy the morning after drinking it. Hell, the way it's throwing you off balance right now, you'd think it were particularly potent vodka or something. Of course, a self respecting pony would never get drunk off of vodka, so you're not sure why you're so messed up, but certainly your friends will know when you find them.

Of course, your odds of finding them at this very moment are looking quite grim, judging by what you see outside. You take one glance out the window and find yourself staring at quite a monotonous scene. The streets of your town are a solid mass of white, swirling snow, and you can't even see the buildings across the way. Evidently, the forecast was indeed quite "snowy and cold." The pegasi must have had a really messed up sense of humor today. You try hard to resist groaning in direct complaint of the weather that your friendly neighborhood weather makers have graced you with today, but can't find the strength.

With a resigned sigh, you ponder quietly to yourself as you walk to your makeshift room to grab your winter gear. Today really is going to be miserable, isn't it?
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Post by SmokeTheHardest 420 2k14 Tue Jun 10, 2014 8:39 pm

gay thread
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Post by alyaza Thu Jun 12, 2014 8:31 am

this is not COLD but rather some weird edgy shit inspired by boredom
wip

You want to cry until you physically can't anymore. Everything is hopeless. You've spent Celestia knows how long in bed now, and all you can find yourself doing is sulking and bawling all day. Your stomach has been crying for food for as long as you can will yourself to remember, but you refuse to come out. Maybe if you lay here long enough, you'll close your eyes for the last time. That's what you're counting on. That the grace of death will sweep you away from the world and back to her. But you know it's futile.
It's only a matter of time before someone forces you to eat. You know it is. Your family might be distraught, but they'll never let you die. In an almost unbearable agony, you roll over on to your side and stare at your door, waiting for the inevitable. You won't fight it. You promise yourself.
You lay there for what has to be hours. You spend it all thinking about her. How you couldn't protect her, or save her from what happened. You know that there wasn't a chance that you would have been able to do either, but you still feel so guilty about it. Every time you feel like you're over it, your mind makes sure to remind you that it's all your fault. Your fault that you couldn't keep her in your arms. Your fault that you couldn't comfort her enough when she needed it most. Your fault that you couldn't talk her out of it.
A knock on the door snaps you out of the moment, and before you can even be bothered to focus your eyes, you're being carried by your brother downstairs. You don't say anything, and neither does he. You're down the stairs in a matter of seconds and are promptly planted in a seat next to a table, with a fairly large plate of food on it.
But you're not hungry now. You probably never were, despite your stomach's insistence on eating. You try to deny the plate of food, but your brother tells you to eat it -- or he'll make you. You're tempted to call bluff, but you know you'd lose out on that bet, so you don't have much of a choice but to eat.
Not that it helps. You're miserable, and your stomach has been deprived of food for -- how long? You ask your brother what day it is. He says it's a Saturday. You've moped and voluntarily fasted for almost four days now, and you feel almost sick to your stomach just taking little bites of food.
Within a few minutes, you feel about ready to throw up. Without hesitation, you stumble over to the trashcan and proceed to hurl up most of whatever it was you just ate. Before you take your head out of it, you silently curse the world and everybody in it.
You figure after a moment that if you're down here right now, you at the very least ought to get something to put in to your system. Running to the refrigerator, you pick out a little bottle of hard cider. It's not much, but it's definately an improvement over nothing.
Slowly, as to not totally ruin your stomach again and hurl anything you might have eaten that didn't come up, you walk up the stairs and back to whatever room you were in. You've just now realized that you're not actually sure that it's yours, but you couldn't care less at this point.
You flop on the bed, pop open the cider, and down it like you've never had one in your whole life.
And it feels so good.
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Post by admin Thu Jun 12, 2014 11:13 am

8==D
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Post by alyaza Thu Jun 12, 2014 11:18 am

:33333
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