Karosis, on 12 May 2012 - 03:54 AM, said:
I have been on 3 times today Telas.
Also, you just gave the walkers the game. You lynch Serc, they have majority, then they win. Serc you are an idiot. Why the fuck would you thing team Walker would kill one of thieir own. Your vote of Atrahal so Telas and I could bring it to 3 votes was just stupid. Team walker can lynch you now, and when its just the 4 of them, they can worry about a rogue zombie if the game isn't over. Fucking idiots. You 2 need to understand that you are both being played. ANd the next mother fucker that suggests lynhing me gets my vote. EVEN IF I AM A ZOMBIE I AM NOT A WALKER AND IF YOU LYNCH ANYTHING OTHER THAN A WALKER BOTH OUR TEAMS LOSE YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!!!
Read that again
EVEN IF I AM A ZOMBIE I AM NOT A WALKER AND IF YOU LYNCH ANYTHING OTHER THAN A WALKER BOTH OUR TEAMS LOSE YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!!!
again
EVEN IF I AM A ZOMBIE I AM NOT A WALKER AND IF YOU LYNCH ANYTHING OTHER THAN A WALKER BOTH OUR TEAMS LOSE YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!!!
finally
BOTH OUR TEAMS LOSE YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!!!
Once more
YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!!!
Edit - thank you Telas for removing your vote - the above is still valid.I AM NOT A ZOMBIE!
Plainly, you're wrong in so many aspects.
Like I said, you keep seeming to suggest there is 4 walkers, when theres only 3: Ruse, Tulas, Atrahal.
If by "4" you meant the 3 Walkers and Telas, then I'm gonna have to turn your words back at you.
I dont care, and you can take this to the bank, if Telas was a Nazi Prison Camp Director and I was a 6 year old Jew Boy,named Haradaski.
(although they would call me One Eye Harry sinse Telas, aka Doctor Heinrich Adolph Klaus von dem Hitler(they call him Fuzz-nuts behind his back, no idea why) accidentally put his left eye out with the molten hot tip of some phallick object he;d been working on)
You'd still have nothing to worry about. Telas and I are like the MALAZAN Bridgeburners. We've been through this experience together, often having spent many nights in total darkness, huddled close together, listening to the sounds of the strange building. And getting high'er-n-a-mothaf*cka. Telas had brought along some sticky buds called Frankenstein. All in all, the bond created under conditions such as these, where you put your life in one anothers hands were hard to understand except by those who'd been there, and those who'd seen real combat in warzones.
And even if Telas becomes a zombie, I'll try to save him for last, or as long as possible, and I'll still try to hurl u fuckers off the roof, before Id be forced to do to Telas what I did to poor Ampelas.
And vice versa. Telas would save me til the end, or wait as long as possible.
And just a reminder as to the number I did on Ampelas:
Serc, on 01 May 2012 - 12:26 PM, said:
Serc made his way down. Down. Step after step, making as little noise as possible. The huge building seemed to sway with the wind at times. The very wind that now picked up, moving through holes and cracks in the outer wall, and formed an eerie melody. It was getting dark, and after only a single night in this place, most everyone knew the dangers that would come with the fleeing of day's light.
He'd almost made a wrong turn. He had to think. For although Night had yet to claim the sky for its turn, he could somehow already hear terrible moans of what he now knew were nothing less than the dead, once again walking amongst the living. He'd also seen the hunger in both their eyes and cries as they'd infiltrated the building, having failed to notice the hidden alcove in which he'd already been hiding, having woken from a sleep, feeling as if something terrible had almost happened. It was then he'd heard them coming and fled to a spot already he'd decided would be perfect for hiding extra supplies.
The muffled sounds were growing louder as he drew closer once again to this secluded place, which was nothing more than an extremely small crack at the top of a far wall in a very long and dark hallway. Luckily, he was a very small man, and with even greater luck had accidented apon the only entrance to what appeared to be a section of the building completely cut off from all the rest. That was until you breached to the other side. For the room had yielded another discovery, that of an old dumbwaiter. It had been this that had allowed Serc to haul the flailing figure up an unknown number of stories. His mind had rambled, or perhaps his resolve.
Serc steaded his breathing as he stopped at the base of the wall, looking up towards the crack, yet fully aware of the frightening presense now strapped down to the broken metal fixture of an old style heating system. He could make out the subtle sound of scraping against metal. He realized that it had been almost a full day, yet the creature sounded as if it still showed no signs of slowing. He lept up, nimble fingers grasping hold of the broken base of the wall, and leapt up, over, and through with incredible ease. It was the landing he'd failed at, and the air left his lungs in a wheeze as his body slammed into the cold, hard floor.
Fear makes the mind sharp, and body quick. He recovered, even still grasping for breath, and slid up with his back against the wall, making sure to keep his distance from the creature struggling to stand, yet too stupid to grasp at any of the ropes that pinnned his arms to his sides, and his body to the ground. The smell was horrible. He was sure that even now, the very flesh from the bound creature was rotting away. It couldnt have been dead too long, but then again, he'd nothing to go by. It did however look notibly worse than the night he'd been startled to find it had fallen back down at an attempt to climb up the pulley system, which had given him the means of trapping the poor creature.
He stared as he caught his breath. He dont know where he'd gotten the courage to finally return to see if the creature was indeed still pinned at the bottom of the lift. Serc was no fool, but this seemed foolish, now. But then the circumstance of it all reminded him of his dire need, and his resolve stiffened. It seemed a hazy, fear-laden dream now. The way he'd lashed the arms of the foul thing. The way it had struggled with a hunger that had turned his soul to ice. But the creature was now before him. Oddly enough, it seemed to stop thrashing about as Serc drew closer. Serc looked down at the pitiful zombie.
It was still wearing a torn shirt. And there, still etched in black lettering was a name. "Ampelas." Serc called to him, using its name. "Ampelas. Ampelas. Do you understand me?"
The stench from this distance was enough to force the bile to rise up to the back of his throat. The look in the eyes was nothing but hunger. Could it remember its old self at all? It didnt appear to be nothing but a hungry animal. Even worse. Animals even showed more signs of intelligennce than this. He didnt trust his senses. His body was growing cold. The smell was making his head spin.
"AMPELAS! Are you there? Can you here me," cried Serc.
"I need you to listen to me. TRY AMPELAS. TRY. I need you to try and understand me. For I need something of you."
"Ampelas. You're dead. You've left this world. You're nothing more than a mummified corpse whose been trying to do naught by tear into my flesh. You're weakening. I dont know how much time you have. Ampelas. You're a zombie! An undead. A walking plague. You cant be let loose, and I cant allow you to suffer. So listen to me. Listen to my voice. Listen to my words. Listen to my reasoning. I know it sounds crazy. Maybe even crazier than having just learned the fact that you're no longer alive, but instead a diseased, flesh-rotted undead trying to eat the living. Ampelas. I need you to vote for yourself. It's for your own good, man. I'm sorry. There's no other way. I cant allow you to go free. You could return with your zombie friends and eat me. And I cant just let you lie there, in obvious pain. Do it, Ampelas. Do it for your own good. Do it for the lives of the innocent that you could possibly destroy. VOTE FOR YOURSELF. KILL YOURSELF. It's the only way."
Serc then backed away, the cold night air chilling the tears running down his face. "Oh Ampelas."
He pulled out a zippo lighter. He was still facing Ampelas, and with each deliberate step, he slowly backed up, opening and closing the lighter. "It's the only way."
A flick of his fingers, a clicking of metal, and he'd finally backed far enough away. He stood a brief moment longer, then used his other hand to snap his fingers, igniting the flame. The light of the fire sent shadows dancing across the room, The wind was still moaning through the broken building. The same errie tune. He pulled the lighter closer, as if preparing to hurl it towards the undead creature. He only hoped this would give it a final death. The flames cast sharp angles across his face, revealing a tortured visage with arm frozen in mid flight.
What happened next was now out of his hands.
By the way, humor takes the edge off. People shouldnt be getting pissed at each other.
Lets handle business and get to the end of this insane journey into the mind of Path-Shaper.
EDIT: That retarded story came about because Ampelas and I had like 10+ votes each on day 2 I think. And at one point I just needed Ampelas to vote for himself to survive. So I tried to convince him. He just couldnt seem to get passed the fact that in saving me he would also incur that other business of dying and shit. Oh well. He made his choice. How'd that work out for him again.
This post has been edited by Serc: 12 May 2012 - 07:41 AM
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