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Miri had a nice life as a circus elephant, but everything changed when the Greeks attacked. Up until that point, she had spent her days chilling in the tent or outside in the sand, loving the way the sun felt on her leathery skin. Life was good. People in bright colors came and fed her, and she remembered all of their faces. Miri never forgot anything. Her favorite person was that nice man who looked like Michael B. Jordan. He gave her the most treats of all, and tried to teach her fun tricks like standing on a big sphere. She wasn’t very good at those tricks, like her siblings she so admired, but it was fun to try anyway.
But then the Greeks attacked, and a mean man in lots of metal clothes came to take Miri away from the home she had loved for so many years. Michael B. Jordan patted her trunk fondly and sent her away with the metal man and lots of men who pulled roughly at her reigns and kicked at her giant shins. They didn’t seem to understand that all she wanted was to play in front of the crowd of her beloved circus humans and spend more days basking in the sun. But two days later she was standing on a sand dune with five angry men on her back, digging their heels into her skin in a way that was definitely not aesthetically pleasing. It also didn’t comply with PETA’s rules. Miri was confused. Where was Michael? Where was the crazy lady with the snakes that Miri didn’t like? Why were there so many metal men charging at them?
Miri stepped on a man. She didn’t like the noise it made, or the way his bones cracked under her huge feet. Most of all, it hurt when his pointy bit of metal poked her toes. Miri let out a roar and bucked, but the men on her back stayed on and she only stepped on more men when she came down again. War was not fun. Miri wanted to go home.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Miri had a nice life as a circus elephant, but everything changed when the Greeks attacked. Up until that point, she had spent her days chilling in the tent or outside in the sand, loving the way the sun felt on her leathery skin. Life was good. People in bright colors came and fed her, and she remembered all of their faces. Miri never forgot anything. Her favorite person was that nice man who looked like Michael B. Jordan. He gave her the most treats of all, and tried to teach her fun tricks like standing on a big sphere. She wasn’t very good at those tricks, like her siblings she so admired, but it was fun to try anyway.
But then the Greeks attacked, and a mean man in lots of metal clothes came to take Miri away from the home she had loved for so many years. Michael B. Jordan patted her trunk fondly and sent her away with the metal man and lots of men who pulled roughly at her reigns and kicked at her giant shins. They didn’t seem to understand that all she wanted was to play in front of the crowd of her beloved circus humans and spend more days basking in the sun. But two days later she was standing on a sand dune with five angry men on her back, digging their heels into her skin in a way that was definitely not aesthetically pleasing. It also didn’t comply with PETA’s rules. Miri was confused. Where was Michael? Where was the crazy lady with the snakes that Miri didn’t like? Why were there so many metal men charging at them?
Miri stepped on a man. She didn’t like the noise it made, or the way his bones cracked under her huge feet. Most of all, it hurt when his pointy bit of metal poked her toes. Miri let out a roar and bucked, but the men on her back stayed on and she only stepped on more men when she came down again. War was not fun. Miri wanted to go home.
Miri had a nice life as a circus elephant, but everything changed when the Greeks attacked. Up until that point, she had spent her days chilling in the tent or outside in the sand, loving the way the sun felt on her leathery skin. Life was good. People in bright colors came and fed her, and she remembered all of their faces. Miri never forgot anything. Her favorite person was that nice man who looked like Michael B. Jordan. He gave her the most treats of all, and tried to teach her fun tricks like standing on a big sphere. She wasn’t very good at those tricks, like her siblings she so admired, but it was fun to try anyway.
But then the Greeks attacked, and a mean man in lots of metal clothes came to take Miri away from the home she had loved for so many years. Michael B. Jordan patted her trunk fondly and sent her away with the metal man and lots of men who pulled roughly at her reigns and kicked at her giant shins. They didn’t seem to understand that all she wanted was to play in front of the crowd of her beloved circus humans and spend more days basking in the sun. But two days later she was standing on a sand dune with five angry men on her back, digging their heels into her skin in a way that was definitely not aesthetically pleasing. It also didn’t comply with PETA’s rules. Miri was confused. Where was Michael? Where was the crazy lady with the snakes that Miri didn’t like? Why were there so many metal men charging at them?
Miri stepped on a man. She didn’t like the noise it made, or the way his bones cracked under her huge feet. Most of all, it hurt when his pointy bit of metal poked her toes. Miri let out a roar and bucked, but the men on her back stayed on and she only stepped on more men when she came down again. War was not fun. Miri wanted to go home.
Khanh was the biggest tiger that ever lived. He wasn't a circus tiger, though. Oh no. He was a wild tiger. A free tiger. A muscle bound tiger who had a gym membership and drank wheatgrass smoothies on the regular (and was regular). His favorite meal wasn't wheatgrass (shocker). It was elephant. And not just any sort of elephant. He liked the sweet, fat, circus elephants.
One day, Khanh was prowling the jungle, minding his own business when he suddenly found himself on a sand dune. "What the heck?" He growled. His whiskered vibrated in annoyance. "Sand? This isn't India!"
Khanh liked to travel but tomorrow was Leg Day at the gym and somehow he didn't think Egypt had gyms open to tigers. But then, what did he spy? A battle, it was true but there...there she was. Drool dripped from his maw as his green eyes went wide.
The most beautiful, plump pachyderm, floating like a gray cream puff as she gored and stomped her way over soldiers. His shoulders slumped and his tail flicked only once. Oh he had to have her.
His whiskers vibrated with emotion.
Without hesitation, he leaped out into the battlefield, streaking towards her. He slapped a paw across some guy's face who had a striking resemblance to Rami Malik, jumped onto General Noodle's back, using him as a springboard, and launched himself onto Miri's back.
"Good afternoon, my delicious dream." He said this so meltingly politely that it was almost certain Miri would be thrilled to die by his claws.
"Would you be so good as to sit still while I eat you?"
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Khanh was the biggest tiger that ever lived. He wasn't a circus tiger, though. Oh no. He was a wild tiger. A free tiger. A muscle bound tiger who had a gym membership and drank wheatgrass smoothies on the regular (and was regular). His favorite meal wasn't wheatgrass (shocker). It was elephant. And not just any sort of elephant. He liked the sweet, fat, circus elephants.
One day, Khanh was prowling the jungle, minding his own business when he suddenly found himself on a sand dune. "What the heck?" He growled. His whiskered vibrated in annoyance. "Sand? This isn't India!"
Khanh liked to travel but tomorrow was Leg Day at the gym and somehow he didn't think Egypt had gyms open to tigers. But then, what did he spy? A battle, it was true but there...there she was. Drool dripped from his maw as his green eyes went wide.
The most beautiful, plump pachyderm, floating like a gray cream puff as she gored and stomped her way over soldiers. His shoulders slumped and his tail flicked only once. Oh he had to have her.
His whiskers vibrated with emotion.
Without hesitation, he leaped out into the battlefield, streaking towards her. He slapped a paw across some guy's face who had a striking resemblance to Rami Malik, jumped onto General Noodle's back, using him as a springboard, and launched himself onto Miri's back.
"Good afternoon, my delicious dream." He said this so meltingly politely that it was almost certain Miri would be thrilled to die by his claws.
"Would you be so good as to sit still while I eat you?"
Khanh was the biggest tiger that ever lived. He wasn't a circus tiger, though. Oh no. He was a wild tiger. A free tiger. A muscle bound tiger who had a gym membership and drank wheatgrass smoothies on the regular (and was regular). His favorite meal wasn't wheatgrass (shocker). It was elephant. And not just any sort of elephant. He liked the sweet, fat, circus elephants.
One day, Khanh was prowling the jungle, minding his own business when he suddenly found himself on a sand dune. "What the heck?" He growled. His whiskered vibrated in annoyance. "Sand? This isn't India!"
Khanh liked to travel but tomorrow was Leg Day at the gym and somehow he didn't think Egypt had gyms open to tigers. But then, what did he spy? A battle, it was true but there...there she was. Drool dripped from his maw as his green eyes went wide.
The most beautiful, plump pachyderm, floating like a gray cream puff as she gored and stomped her way over soldiers. His shoulders slumped and his tail flicked only once. Oh he had to have her.
His whiskers vibrated with emotion.
Without hesitation, he leaped out into the battlefield, streaking towards her. He slapped a paw across some guy's face who had a striking resemblance to Rami Malik, jumped onto General Noodle's back, using him as a springboard, and launched himself onto Miri's back.
"Good afternoon, my delicious dream." He said this so meltingly politely that it was almost certain Miri would be thrilled to die by his claws.
"Would you be so good as to sit still while I eat you?"
War.
It simply wasn't a war without war elephants. They were the greatest innovation, the most powerful weapon against the heretic Greeks that could so easily be stamped beneath their feet. But, it wasn't meant to be. Amenemhat was the greatest procurer of elephants in all of the land, and he so basked in his empire ran on the back and blood of these magnificent creatures.
But, the staff said no.
So, Miri was the only one let onto the battlefield, so anguished and hurt and Amenemhat could only lament that she was the only one allowed. The greatest of tragedies, but Amenemhat stood resolute in the fact that the one majestic creature could represent his circus. All of the animals in his circus and the mighty Miri had the honour of being the unwitting sacrifice.
And then...
"Good afternoon, my delicious dream."
Oh no.
He hadn't expected a tiger.
Amenemhat watched, devastated, broken, from afar as his precious creature was met with the divine providence.
"The staff sends their one and only son to rob me of my dreams."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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War.
It simply wasn't a war without war elephants. They were the greatest innovation, the most powerful weapon against the heretic Greeks that could so easily be stamped beneath their feet. But, it wasn't meant to be. Amenemhat was the greatest procurer of elephants in all of the land, and he so basked in his empire ran on the back and blood of these magnificent creatures.
But, the staff said no.
So, Miri was the only one let onto the battlefield, so anguished and hurt and Amenemhat could only lament that she was the only one allowed. The greatest of tragedies, but Amenemhat stood resolute in the fact that the one majestic creature could represent his circus. All of the animals in his circus and the mighty Miri had the honour of being the unwitting sacrifice.
And then...
"Good afternoon, my delicious dream."
Oh no.
He hadn't expected a tiger.
Amenemhat watched, devastated, broken, from afar as his precious creature was met with the divine providence.
"The staff sends their one and only son to rob me of my dreams."
War.
It simply wasn't a war without war elephants. They were the greatest innovation, the most powerful weapon against the heretic Greeks that could so easily be stamped beneath their feet. But, it wasn't meant to be. Amenemhat was the greatest procurer of elephants in all of the land, and he so basked in his empire ran on the back and blood of these magnificent creatures.
But, the staff said no.
So, Miri was the only one let onto the battlefield, so anguished and hurt and Amenemhat could only lament that she was the only one allowed. The greatest of tragedies, but Amenemhat stood resolute in the fact that the one majestic creature could represent his circus. All of the animals in his circus and the mighty Miri had the honour of being the unwitting sacrifice.
And then...
"Good afternoon, my delicious dream."
Oh no.
He hadn't expected a tiger.
Amenemhat watched, devastated, broken, from afar as his precious creature was met with the divine providence.
"The staff sends their one and only son to rob me of my dreams."
Selima wasn’t a war elephant. She wasn’t a tiger. She wasn’t anything that was scary or ferocious or even violent! Violence was bad, and war was bad.
Selima was a mouse.
Squeaky squeak squeaky squeak.
Selima, however, was a good listener. No one noticed Selima. She was just, well, there. She sat with staff a lot. They’d talk about their general dislike of war elephants. But Selima had a secret, one that she would take to the grave.
War elephants were cool.
War elephants were beautiful majestic creatures that deserved to be loved. They were historically accurate beings in a world that had very little history or accuracy. In other words- Selima thought they were pretty freaking cool.
But her tiny squeak was not enough to be louder than the staff’s roar. She was a puny being, so gentle… so quiet. So she followed them on this adventure like a good staff would. Selima wouldn’t be a traitor. She would be loyal.
Then she saw Miri. If hearts could spring from her eyes, they would. Miri was everything that Selima ever dreamed of and more. She was exactly what the world needed- War elephants in a war. Really, it’s common sense, if you think about it.
“OH MY GOSH!” She squeaked as loud as she could, zipping between the legs of a guy who looked to be from Phantom of the Opera (... she needed his autograph too). She ran as fast as she could and sat on her little bum.
“KHANH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Her tiny paws held her cheeks and her face was a full “O”. Khanh can’t hurt Miri! This was all Selima had ever wanted. If she had to betray the staff- She would. This was her moment. The war elephants were real! And they were every bit as amazing as she imagined.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Selima wasn’t a war elephant. She wasn’t a tiger. She wasn’t anything that was scary or ferocious or even violent! Violence was bad, and war was bad.
Selima was a mouse.
Squeaky squeak squeaky squeak.
Selima, however, was a good listener. No one noticed Selima. She was just, well, there. She sat with staff a lot. They’d talk about their general dislike of war elephants. But Selima had a secret, one that she would take to the grave.
War elephants were cool.
War elephants were beautiful majestic creatures that deserved to be loved. They were historically accurate beings in a world that had very little history or accuracy. In other words- Selima thought they were pretty freaking cool.
But her tiny squeak was not enough to be louder than the staff’s roar. She was a puny being, so gentle… so quiet. So she followed them on this adventure like a good staff would. Selima wouldn’t be a traitor. She would be loyal.
Then she saw Miri. If hearts could spring from her eyes, they would. Miri was everything that Selima ever dreamed of and more. She was exactly what the world needed- War elephants in a war. Really, it’s common sense, if you think about it.
“OH MY GOSH!” She squeaked as loud as she could, zipping between the legs of a guy who looked to be from Phantom of the Opera (... she needed his autograph too). She ran as fast as she could and sat on her little bum.
“KHANH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Her tiny paws held her cheeks and her face was a full “O”. Khanh can’t hurt Miri! This was all Selima had ever wanted. If she had to betray the staff- She would. This was her moment. The war elephants were real! And they were every bit as amazing as she imagined.
Selima wasn’t a war elephant. She wasn’t a tiger. She wasn’t anything that was scary or ferocious or even violent! Violence was bad, and war was bad.
Selima was a mouse.
Squeaky squeak squeaky squeak.
Selima, however, was a good listener. No one noticed Selima. She was just, well, there. She sat with staff a lot. They’d talk about their general dislike of war elephants. But Selima had a secret, one that she would take to the grave.
War elephants were cool.
War elephants were beautiful majestic creatures that deserved to be loved. They were historically accurate beings in a world that had very little history or accuracy. In other words- Selima thought they were pretty freaking cool.
But her tiny squeak was not enough to be louder than the staff’s roar. She was a puny being, so gentle… so quiet. So she followed them on this adventure like a good staff would. Selima wouldn’t be a traitor. She would be loyal.
Then she saw Miri. If hearts could spring from her eyes, they would. Miri was everything that Selima ever dreamed of and more. She was exactly what the world needed- War elephants in a war. Really, it’s common sense, if you think about it.
“OH MY GOSH!” She squeaked as loud as she could, zipping between the legs of a guy who looked to be from Phantom of the Opera (... she needed his autograph too). She ran as fast as she could and sat on her little bum.
“KHANH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Her tiny paws held her cheeks and her face was a full “O”. Khanh can’t hurt Miri! This was all Selima had ever wanted. If she had to betray the staff- She would. This was her moment. The war elephants were real! And they were every bit as amazing as she imagined.
Maeri had been lured into the thread by the mention of large fuzzy animals. The idea that such a huge tiger could eat her had never once crossed her mind. As to what she was doing in Egypt, well...there was very little that could keep her away from fuzzy animals when she set her mind to it. Maeri had come here for one thing and one thing only. She wanted to pet a tiger.
"Kitty!" Maeri called out running across the battlefield towards the large cat. "Heeeere kitty, kitty, kitty!" The large wrinkly grey beast that the cat sat on top of was of much less interest to her. It was not fuzzy. All that mattered was the fuzzy.
Maeri reached out to scritch the large orange cat under his chin. "Come on kitty. I have catnip here for you." She had ordered a large tub of catnip off of Chewy.com in case she ever ran into any cats. Then she could lead them home with her like a pied piper.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Maeri had been lured into the thread by the mention of large fuzzy animals. The idea that such a huge tiger could eat her had never once crossed her mind. As to what she was doing in Egypt, well...there was very little that could keep her away from fuzzy animals when she set her mind to it. Maeri had come here for one thing and one thing only. She wanted to pet a tiger.
"Kitty!" Maeri called out running across the battlefield towards the large cat. "Heeeere kitty, kitty, kitty!" The large wrinkly grey beast that the cat sat on top of was of much less interest to her. It was not fuzzy. All that mattered was the fuzzy.
Maeri reached out to scritch the large orange cat under his chin. "Come on kitty. I have catnip here for you." She had ordered a large tub of catnip off of Chewy.com in case she ever ran into any cats. Then she could lead them home with her like a pied piper.
Maeri had been lured into the thread by the mention of large fuzzy animals. The idea that such a huge tiger could eat her had never once crossed her mind. As to what she was doing in Egypt, well...there was very little that could keep her away from fuzzy animals when she set her mind to it. Maeri had come here for one thing and one thing only. She wanted to pet a tiger.
"Kitty!" Maeri called out running across the battlefield towards the large cat. "Heeeere kitty, kitty, kitty!" The large wrinkly grey beast that the cat sat on top of was of much less interest to her. It was not fuzzy. All that mattered was the fuzzy.
Maeri reached out to scritch the large orange cat under his chin. "Come on kitty. I have catnip here for you." She had ordered a large tub of catnip off of Chewy.com in case she ever ran into any cats. Then she could lead them home with her like a pied piper.
This day really could not get any worse. First her very existence was rejected, and then she was forced to step on pointy men she didn’t know or like. Michael B. Jordan was nowhere to be seen, and instead there were lots of pretty actor men she would rather not step on. But… she would if she needed to. Because Miri did exist and she wanted the world to remember her as the legend she knew in her elephant heart she was.
And then. AND THEN. Out of nowhere, there was a tiger on her back. Miri wailed, she stomped, she roared, the world was sad and angry and so so very scary. Who cared about metal actors when there was a real life Shere Khan on her back? This was a crisis beyond any Miri had every experiences. “I’m not delicious!” Miri protested desperately. The only good thing about this tiger was that the men on her back had screamed and dove off her back at the appearance of a beast.
And then her day got even worse. She didn’t exist, her favorite human abandoned her to a scary war, there was a tiger trying to eat her, and THERE WAS A MOUSE. Miri hated mice. The circus had some that danced and did the same tricks that the elephants were supposed to learn. Miri shuddered at the very thought of the creatures. She took a few rumbling steps back, nearly crushing the human girl from Gossip Girl who had appeared in the middle of a very accurate and necessary battle. “You could eat that mouse instead?” she offered happily, “or or OR!” The Gossip Girl had catnip. Catnip was good. Sometimes Miri had it too and got high and thought of all the fun times when she was a real elephant instead of one from a sad Disney movie with racism.
Still, the danger wasn’t over. “Please take the mean cat away, little girl,” Miri said, turning her head to stare at the girl who was somehow petting the orange beast. “This isn’t a good litter box. And take that mouse while you’re at it, won’t cha?”
Miri really wanted to go home.
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This day really could not get any worse. First her very existence was rejected, and then she was forced to step on pointy men she didn’t know or like. Michael B. Jordan was nowhere to be seen, and instead there were lots of pretty actor men she would rather not step on. But… she would if she needed to. Because Miri did exist and she wanted the world to remember her as the legend she knew in her elephant heart she was.
And then. AND THEN. Out of nowhere, there was a tiger on her back. Miri wailed, she stomped, she roared, the world was sad and angry and so so very scary. Who cared about metal actors when there was a real life Shere Khan on her back? This was a crisis beyond any Miri had every experiences. “I’m not delicious!” Miri protested desperately. The only good thing about this tiger was that the men on her back had screamed and dove off her back at the appearance of a beast.
And then her day got even worse. She didn’t exist, her favorite human abandoned her to a scary war, there was a tiger trying to eat her, and THERE WAS A MOUSE. Miri hated mice. The circus had some that danced and did the same tricks that the elephants were supposed to learn. Miri shuddered at the very thought of the creatures. She took a few rumbling steps back, nearly crushing the human girl from Gossip Girl who had appeared in the middle of a very accurate and necessary battle. “You could eat that mouse instead?” she offered happily, “or or OR!” The Gossip Girl had catnip. Catnip was good. Sometimes Miri had it too and got high and thought of all the fun times when she was a real elephant instead of one from a sad Disney movie with racism.
Still, the danger wasn’t over. “Please take the mean cat away, little girl,” Miri said, turning her head to stare at the girl who was somehow petting the orange beast. “This isn’t a good litter box. And take that mouse while you’re at it, won’t cha?”
Miri really wanted to go home.
This day really could not get any worse. First her very existence was rejected, and then she was forced to step on pointy men she didn’t know or like. Michael B. Jordan was nowhere to be seen, and instead there were lots of pretty actor men she would rather not step on. But… she would if she needed to. Because Miri did exist and she wanted the world to remember her as the legend she knew in her elephant heart she was.
And then. AND THEN. Out of nowhere, there was a tiger on her back. Miri wailed, she stomped, she roared, the world was sad and angry and so so very scary. Who cared about metal actors when there was a real life Shere Khan on her back? This was a crisis beyond any Miri had every experiences. “I’m not delicious!” Miri protested desperately. The only good thing about this tiger was that the men on her back had screamed and dove off her back at the appearance of a beast.
And then her day got even worse. She didn’t exist, her favorite human abandoned her to a scary war, there was a tiger trying to eat her, and THERE WAS A MOUSE. Miri hated mice. The circus had some that danced and did the same tricks that the elephants were supposed to learn. Miri shuddered at the very thought of the creatures. She took a few rumbling steps back, nearly crushing the human girl from Gossip Girl who had appeared in the middle of a very accurate and necessary battle. “You could eat that mouse instead?” she offered happily, “or or OR!” The Gossip Girl had catnip. Catnip was good. Sometimes Miri had it too and got high and thought of all the fun times when she was a real elephant instead of one from a sad Disney movie with racism.
Still, the danger wasn’t over. “Please take the mean cat away, little girl,” Miri said, turning her head to stare at the girl who was somehow petting the orange beast. “This isn’t a good litter box. And take that mouse while you’re at it, won’t cha?”
Miri really wanted to go home.
Khanh twirled his whiskers with one paw in a dashing imitation of a villainous mustache swirl. He rode Miri's stumbling around easily enough. After all, this wasn't his first rodeo and his hindquarters were *ripped* from all that Crossfit he did. Like, did this elephant even lift?
He didn't notice the mouse screaming for him to stop. How could he? She was so smol.
What he hadn't been prepared for was Buffy's little sister. "Kiiiiiiiiiiiitty!" His pupils constricted, his head snapped towards her and, oh no...NO! She was a snuggler.
"No I haven't had a bite!" He complained. "I have fasted on nothing but sunlight for 48 hours! I need this!" This, of course, being Miri's hide in his sixpack tiger stomach.
Maeri was heartless and clever. She produced catnip and though Khanh had gone to rehab, though he'd left that life behind him...oh it smelled so....goooooooooooooooood.
"Mmmmmmmm," he purred. His whiskers trembled like a quivering fawn as he slid off Miri. Slinking across the ground, he had to shove aside Henry Cavill to get to Buffy Lite. "Listen," he began. "How much for all you got?"
Oh god. He was going to be on a 72 hour bender. But he didn't care...he neeeeeeeded that nip.
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Khanh twirled his whiskers with one paw in a dashing imitation of a villainous mustache swirl. He rode Miri's stumbling around easily enough. After all, this wasn't his first rodeo and his hindquarters were *ripped* from all that Crossfit he did. Like, did this elephant even lift?
He didn't notice the mouse screaming for him to stop. How could he? She was so smol.
What he hadn't been prepared for was Buffy's little sister. "Kiiiiiiiiiiiitty!" His pupils constricted, his head snapped towards her and, oh no...NO! She was a snuggler.
"No I haven't had a bite!" He complained. "I have fasted on nothing but sunlight for 48 hours! I need this!" This, of course, being Miri's hide in his sixpack tiger stomach.
Maeri was heartless and clever. She produced catnip and though Khanh had gone to rehab, though he'd left that life behind him...oh it smelled so....goooooooooooooooood.
"Mmmmmmmm," he purred. His whiskers trembled like a quivering fawn as he slid off Miri. Slinking across the ground, he had to shove aside Henry Cavill to get to Buffy Lite. "Listen," he began. "How much for all you got?"
Oh god. He was going to be on a 72 hour bender. But he didn't care...he neeeeeeeded that nip.
Khanh twirled his whiskers with one paw in a dashing imitation of a villainous mustache swirl. He rode Miri's stumbling around easily enough. After all, this wasn't his first rodeo and his hindquarters were *ripped* from all that Crossfit he did. Like, did this elephant even lift?
He didn't notice the mouse screaming for him to stop. How could he? She was so smol.
What he hadn't been prepared for was Buffy's little sister. "Kiiiiiiiiiiiitty!" His pupils constricted, his head snapped towards her and, oh no...NO! She was a snuggler.
"No I haven't had a bite!" He complained. "I have fasted on nothing but sunlight for 48 hours! I need this!" This, of course, being Miri's hide in his sixpack tiger stomach.
Maeri was heartless and clever. She produced catnip and though Khanh had gone to rehab, though he'd left that life behind him...oh it smelled so....goooooooooooooooood.
"Mmmmmmmm," he purred. His whiskers trembled like a quivering fawn as he slid off Miri. Slinking across the ground, he had to shove aside Henry Cavill to get to Buffy Lite. "Listen," he began. "How much for all you got?"
Oh god. He was going to be on a 72 hour bender. But he didn't care...he neeeeeeeded that nip.
"You racist motherfuckers," Amenmehat growled from the way back of the thread, bitterness creeping up at the audacity that there were four other posters in this absurdity and he had to reply to his own thing. Amenemhat got on his tricycle, speeding into the fray, a giant shovel slamming into Egyptians by the dozens as he went to save his beloved elephant from the fate he'd conscripted her into.
But, it wasn't to be. There was no 'too-late-to-save-the-day' moment where Amenemhat felt the true remorse of his merciless actions. Instead, Amenemhat reached the circus elephant and the tiger having a drug deal with the strange girl.
"It's because I'm Egyptian, isn't it? We're just NPCs to knock down and that's why I had to bust into the thread!"
Whatever, he didn't care anyway! Fuck this thread and all of those vile racists who refused to acknowledge him. Amenemhat climbed onto Miri's leg, throwing one of his over her and squarely saddling up even though saddles didn't exist in ancient Egypt. It didn't matter, because neither did catnip. So ha.
"I'm going to save you, Miri," he promised her, just as he dug the spurs on his cowboy boots into her side.
"Go, my wonderful elephant. To freedom!"
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"You racist motherfuckers," Amenmehat growled from the way back of the thread, bitterness creeping up at the audacity that there were four other posters in this absurdity and he had to reply to his own thing. Amenemhat got on his tricycle, speeding into the fray, a giant shovel slamming into Egyptians by the dozens as he went to save his beloved elephant from the fate he'd conscripted her into.
But, it wasn't to be. There was no 'too-late-to-save-the-day' moment where Amenemhat felt the true remorse of his merciless actions. Instead, Amenemhat reached the circus elephant and the tiger having a drug deal with the strange girl.
"It's because I'm Egyptian, isn't it? We're just NPCs to knock down and that's why I had to bust into the thread!"
Whatever, he didn't care anyway! Fuck this thread and all of those vile racists who refused to acknowledge him. Amenemhat climbed onto Miri's leg, throwing one of his over her and squarely saddling up even though saddles didn't exist in ancient Egypt. It didn't matter, because neither did catnip. So ha.
"I'm going to save you, Miri," he promised her, just as he dug the spurs on his cowboy boots into her side.
"Go, my wonderful elephant. To freedom!"
"You racist motherfuckers," Amenmehat growled from the way back of the thread, bitterness creeping up at the audacity that there were four other posters in this absurdity and he had to reply to his own thing. Amenemhat got on his tricycle, speeding into the fray, a giant shovel slamming into Egyptians by the dozens as he went to save his beloved elephant from the fate he'd conscripted her into.
But, it wasn't to be. There was no 'too-late-to-save-the-day' moment where Amenemhat felt the true remorse of his merciless actions. Instead, Amenemhat reached the circus elephant and the tiger having a drug deal with the strange girl.
"It's because I'm Egyptian, isn't it? We're just NPCs to knock down and that's why I had to bust into the thread!"
Whatever, he didn't care anyway! Fuck this thread and all of those vile racists who refused to acknowledge him. Amenemhat climbed onto Miri's leg, throwing one of his over her and squarely saddling up even though saddles didn't exist in ancient Egypt. It didn't matter, because neither did catnip. So ha.
"I'm going to save you, Miri," he promised her, just as he dug the spurs on his cowboy boots into her side.
"Go, my wonderful elephant. To freedom!"
Wait. Wait, wait wait. This man in a tricycle called them racist when even HE didn’t notice the mouse. And the elephant, the elephant of her dreams, the elephant that she wanted more than anything wanted KHANH to eat her. Khanh, the drug-addicted cat. How. Freaking. Dare. Them.
Selima grabbed her little mouse hat and her little mouse stick and CHAAAAARGED!
“AHHH!” She decided to go to Khanh. If she’s going to be a traitor staff, she will go all the way. “Take this. And that. And a HI YAH! Drugs aren’t cool kids! Stay in school!”
Yeah! That’ll teach him! Selima, the anti-violent mouse, was on a spree. Then she turned to the human wanting to pet the cat. “And you! How dare you be a drug dealer. Your parents would be so ashamed. AND YOU ELEPHANT DON’T YOU THINK I DON’T SEE YOU!”
Selima turned to Miri with anger in her eyes. She stomped past Cam Gigandet, thinking for only a second that he had a Khanh vibe but wait, she couldn’t be distracted. She was mad. “I and working in a mousetrap office all because I supported your kind! And now you do this! You want Khanh to eat me? Khanh is the staff’s only son! Why would you want him to do that?”
And then the tricycle man. She pointed a finger at him. “And you call them racist but HUH-LOW! I am right here! Did you say anything to me? No. So you shut your human mouth.”
Now that Selima was done murdering her keyboard, she turned her head with a hmph. So rude, the lot of them! Well, at the very least… she got an award out of this. And she got to meet a war elephant, even if they were super rude.
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Wait. Wait, wait wait. This man in a tricycle called them racist when even HE didn’t notice the mouse. And the elephant, the elephant of her dreams, the elephant that she wanted more than anything wanted KHANH to eat her. Khanh, the drug-addicted cat. How. Freaking. Dare. Them.
Selima grabbed her little mouse hat and her little mouse stick and CHAAAAARGED!
“AHHH!” She decided to go to Khanh. If she’s going to be a traitor staff, she will go all the way. “Take this. And that. And a HI YAH! Drugs aren’t cool kids! Stay in school!”
Yeah! That’ll teach him! Selima, the anti-violent mouse, was on a spree. Then she turned to the human wanting to pet the cat. “And you! How dare you be a drug dealer. Your parents would be so ashamed. AND YOU ELEPHANT DON’T YOU THINK I DON’T SEE YOU!”
Selima turned to Miri with anger in her eyes. She stomped past Cam Gigandet, thinking for only a second that he had a Khanh vibe but wait, she couldn’t be distracted. She was mad. “I and working in a mousetrap office all because I supported your kind! And now you do this! You want Khanh to eat me? Khanh is the staff’s only son! Why would you want him to do that?”
And then the tricycle man. She pointed a finger at him. “And you call them racist but HUH-LOW! I am right here! Did you say anything to me? No. So you shut your human mouth.”
Now that Selima was done murdering her keyboard, she turned her head with a hmph. So rude, the lot of them! Well, at the very least… she got an award out of this. And she got to meet a war elephant, even if they were super rude.
Wait. Wait, wait wait. This man in a tricycle called them racist when even HE didn’t notice the mouse. And the elephant, the elephant of her dreams, the elephant that she wanted more than anything wanted KHANH to eat her. Khanh, the drug-addicted cat. How. Freaking. Dare. Them.
Selima grabbed her little mouse hat and her little mouse stick and CHAAAAARGED!
“AHHH!” She decided to go to Khanh. If she’s going to be a traitor staff, she will go all the way. “Take this. And that. And a HI YAH! Drugs aren’t cool kids! Stay in school!”
Yeah! That’ll teach him! Selima, the anti-violent mouse, was on a spree. Then she turned to the human wanting to pet the cat. “And you! How dare you be a drug dealer. Your parents would be so ashamed. AND YOU ELEPHANT DON’T YOU THINK I DON’T SEE YOU!”
Selima turned to Miri with anger in her eyes. She stomped past Cam Gigandet, thinking for only a second that he had a Khanh vibe but wait, she couldn’t be distracted. She was mad. “I and working in a mousetrap office all because I supported your kind! And now you do this! You want Khanh to eat me? Khanh is the staff’s only son! Why would you want him to do that?”
And then the tricycle man. She pointed a finger at him. “And you call them racist but HUH-LOW! I am right here! Did you say anything to me? No. So you shut your human mouth.”
Now that Selima was done murdering her keyboard, she turned her head with a hmph. So rude, the lot of them! Well, at the very least… she got an award out of this. And she got to meet a war elephant, even if they were super rude.
The kitty was larger than any kitty that Maeri had ever seen before. And he had very ripped hindquarters. And he was JUST. SO. FUZZY!!! Luckily, he also seemed to speak English, or uh....Hebrew, or whatever language they were speaking in this thread. This was incredibly helpful.
She was unconcerned at the path of destruction the tiger carved as it approached her. She had never cared much for Superman anyway. All she knew was that it had abandoned the totally historically accurate non-fuzzy creature and come over to her. She threw her arms around its large neck and buried her face into its fur. "If you come home with me. I will order you all the catnip you want off the internet. I'm sure Amiti won't mind."
Maeri could have died happy just getting to hug a tiger, but this day was just going to get better. She hadn't noticed the tiny little mouse before, but now that it was yelling it was much easier to see the tiny fuzzy creature. She couldn't believe that she had missed something so adorable before.
Maeri scooped up the angry mouse from the ground. "I am not a drug dealer. Catnip is not a controlled substance, and besides, I'm giving it away and not selling it." She dropped the mouse into her pocket. "You can come home with me too, even if you're shouting at everyone. But you shouldn't be so rude."
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The kitty was larger than any kitty that Maeri had ever seen before. And he had very ripped hindquarters. And he was JUST. SO. FUZZY!!! Luckily, he also seemed to speak English, or uh....Hebrew, or whatever language they were speaking in this thread. This was incredibly helpful.
She was unconcerned at the path of destruction the tiger carved as it approached her. She had never cared much for Superman anyway. All she knew was that it had abandoned the totally historically accurate non-fuzzy creature and come over to her. She threw her arms around its large neck and buried her face into its fur. "If you come home with me. I will order you all the catnip you want off the internet. I'm sure Amiti won't mind."
Maeri could have died happy just getting to hug a tiger, but this day was just going to get better. She hadn't noticed the tiny little mouse before, but now that it was yelling it was much easier to see the tiny fuzzy creature. She couldn't believe that she had missed something so adorable before.
Maeri scooped up the angry mouse from the ground. "I am not a drug dealer. Catnip is not a controlled substance, and besides, I'm giving it away and not selling it." She dropped the mouse into her pocket. "You can come home with me too, even if you're shouting at everyone. But you shouldn't be so rude."
The kitty was larger than any kitty that Maeri had ever seen before. And he had very ripped hindquarters. And he was JUST. SO. FUZZY!!! Luckily, he also seemed to speak English, or uh....Hebrew, or whatever language they were speaking in this thread. This was incredibly helpful.
She was unconcerned at the path of destruction the tiger carved as it approached her. She had never cared much for Superman anyway. All she knew was that it had abandoned the totally historically accurate non-fuzzy creature and come over to her. She threw her arms around its large neck and buried her face into its fur. "If you come home with me. I will order you all the catnip you want off the internet. I'm sure Amiti won't mind."
Maeri could have died happy just getting to hug a tiger, but this day was just going to get better. She hadn't noticed the tiny little mouse before, but now that it was yelling it was much easier to see the tiny fuzzy creature. She couldn't believe that she had missed something so adorable before.
Maeri scooped up the angry mouse from the ground. "I am not a drug dealer. Catnip is not a controlled substance, and besides, I'm giving it away and not selling it." She dropped the mouse into her pocket. "You can come home with me too, even if you're shouting at everyone. But you shouldn't be so rude."
Shere Khan was a drug addict? Actually, come to think of it, the Jungle Book made a lot more sense with that context in mind. Miri was actually a bit concerned for the tiger’s sanity. Catnip was one helluva drug. And even though he was going to take a bite out of her ass if he’d had his way, Miri kinda pitied the poor kitty. Not enough to stop him from buying the drugs, though. Drugs were cool. And they got him off her butt, so that was cool, too. Though looking at him, Miri wondered if she should maybe try lifting some more metal men. She wanted a nice butt like that.
Oh! There was a familiar human! He wasn’t as cool as Michael B. Jordan, but he did come to visit her sometimes and nod like he was impressed with her existence. And he clapped with the rest of the audience. Miri was like Tinker Bell. Applause kept her essence alive, even as the staff killed an elephant every time they spoke the words ‘I do not believe in war elephants.’ Miri would drop dead soon too, probably. It was only a matter of time. But for now, her second favorite human was here. He looked angry. “I’m sorry, Boss,” she started to say in a Boston accent, but then Amenemhat did the unthinkable. He climbed on her back like she was nothing more than a war camel. The nerve of it!
Well, he’d better hold on tight because the terrifying mouse was stomping towards her, looking angrier than Miri knew a mouse could look. Had the movie changed? Was she in An American Tail now? Was this Fievel’s love interest? Miri didn’t want to stay around to find out. “Th-thank you for your support,” she stuttered, suddenly thinking of Alice Greczyn for some odd reason. “Just… could you back away a bit? You make me nervous. And I never forget anything. So I’ll always remember being nervous. And all I want to do is stand in the sun and get extra skin cancery leather skin.” Luckily, she didn’t have to rely on the mouse being nice. It was a rude mouse. The evil Gossip Girl girl took the mouse away and Amenemhat was spurring her rudely in the side and—
Miri felt a choking sensation. Her huge elephant heart skipped a beat or five. She desperately thought ‘you can’t stop the beat’ but it was too late. Somewhere, Asteria had said it again. “I do not believe in war elephants.” It was her turn to die.
Miri’s four huge knees buckled. The light was fading. “Tell—my mother—I love her. Tell—Michael.” A tear rolled down her elephant cheek. “Was I a good war elephant?”
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Shere Khan was a drug addict? Actually, come to think of it, the Jungle Book made a lot more sense with that context in mind. Miri was actually a bit concerned for the tiger’s sanity. Catnip was one helluva drug. And even though he was going to take a bite out of her ass if he’d had his way, Miri kinda pitied the poor kitty. Not enough to stop him from buying the drugs, though. Drugs were cool. And they got him off her butt, so that was cool, too. Though looking at him, Miri wondered if she should maybe try lifting some more metal men. She wanted a nice butt like that.
Oh! There was a familiar human! He wasn’t as cool as Michael B. Jordan, but he did come to visit her sometimes and nod like he was impressed with her existence. And he clapped with the rest of the audience. Miri was like Tinker Bell. Applause kept her essence alive, even as the staff killed an elephant every time they spoke the words ‘I do not believe in war elephants.’ Miri would drop dead soon too, probably. It was only a matter of time. But for now, her second favorite human was here. He looked angry. “I’m sorry, Boss,” she started to say in a Boston accent, but then Amenemhat did the unthinkable. He climbed on her back like she was nothing more than a war camel. The nerve of it!
Well, he’d better hold on tight because the terrifying mouse was stomping towards her, looking angrier than Miri knew a mouse could look. Had the movie changed? Was she in An American Tail now? Was this Fievel’s love interest? Miri didn’t want to stay around to find out. “Th-thank you for your support,” she stuttered, suddenly thinking of Alice Greczyn for some odd reason. “Just… could you back away a bit? You make me nervous. And I never forget anything. So I’ll always remember being nervous. And all I want to do is stand in the sun and get extra skin cancery leather skin.” Luckily, she didn’t have to rely on the mouse being nice. It was a rude mouse. The evil Gossip Girl girl took the mouse away and Amenemhat was spurring her rudely in the side and—
Miri felt a choking sensation. Her huge elephant heart skipped a beat or five. She desperately thought ‘you can’t stop the beat’ but it was too late. Somewhere, Asteria had said it again. “I do not believe in war elephants.” It was her turn to die.
Miri’s four huge knees buckled. The light was fading. “Tell—my mother—I love her. Tell—Michael.” A tear rolled down her elephant cheek. “Was I a good war elephant?”
Shere Khan was a drug addict? Actually, come to think of it, the Jungle Book made a lot more sense with that context in mind. Miri was actually a bit concerned for the tiger’s sanity. Catnip was one helluva drug. And even though he was going to take a bite out of her ass if he’d had his way, Miri kinda pitied the poor kitty. Not enough to stop him from buying the drugs, though. Drugs were cool. And they got him off her butt, so that was cool, too. Though looking at him, Miri wondered if she should maybe try lifting some more metal men. She wanted a nice butt like that.
Oh! There was a familiar human! He wasn’t as cool as Michael B. Jordan, but he did come to visit her sometimes and nod like he was impressed with her existence. And he clapped with the rest of the audience. Miri was like Tinker Bell. Applause kept her essence alive, even as the staff killed an elephant every time they spoke the words ‘I do not believe in war elephants.’ Miri would drop dead soon too, probably. It was only a matter of time. But for now, her second favorite human was here. He looked angry. “I’m sorry, Boss,” she started to say in a Boston accent, but then Amenemhat did the unthinkable. He climbed on her back like she was nothing more than a war camel. The nerve of it!
Well, he’d better hold on tight because the terrifying mouse was stomping towards her, looking angrier than Miri knew a mouse could look. Had the movie changed? Was she in An American Tail now? Was this Fievel’s love interest? Miri didn’t want to stay around to find out. “Th-thank you for your support,” she stuttered, suddenly thinking of Alice Greczyn for some odd reason. “Just… could you back away a bit? You make me nervous. And I never forget anything. So I’ll always remember being nervous. And all I want to do is stand in the sun and get extra skin cancery leather skin.” Luckily, she didn’t have to rely on the mouse being nice. It was a rude mouse. The evil Gossip Girl girl took the mouse away and Amenemhat was spurring her rudely in the side and—
Miri felt a choking sensation. Her huge elephant heart skipped a beat or five. She desperately thought ‘you can’t stop the beat’ but it was too late. Somewhere, Asteria had said it again. “I do not believe in war elephants.” It was her turn to die.
Miri’s four huge knees buckled. The light was fading. “Tell—my mother—I love her. Tell—Michael.” A tear rolled down her elephant cheek. “Was I a good war elephant?”
"Maeri."
Amiti stood with his hands on his hips, blood in his beard, glitter in his hair, with a stunning black eye. "Do you have any idea what I went through to get here? Who are these people? Maeri, you cannot just come trilling onto battlefields. Do you gave any idea of the magnitude of this scandal?" Personal safety was secondary to reputation.
"And now you've turned Selima into a mouse." Amiti was not impressed. He was doubly unimpressed at the man peddling around weepily on the tricycle.
"And hanging out with drug users?" Here he pointed to Khanh who would have been shedding clothes if he'd worn any. As it stood, Khanh's muscles were so over pronounced and his fur so glossy that Amiti was positive that he was a gym bro. The worst kind of person. "Maeri, look at that. That is not natural. No one gets muscles like that without sticking steroid needles in their butt cheeks and you know what I trust less than a 'roid addicted tiger, Maeri? Do you?"
He was on a roll now.
"You with fuzzy animals. Leave this mouse and this tiger alone and- oh my sweet juniper bush."
Miri's tears had leaked towards his sandals. Amiti picked up one foot, looking at the tear water on his sandal sole like it was dog poop. "Okay that's just great. Great. These are genuine leather sandals and now they have elephant tears. That's it. We are going home. Now."
He seized Maeri by the wrist, dragging her behind him, muttering about OSHA violations, the biohazards of traversing a battlefield, and obviously the cost of getting his beard cleaned. Salons were expensive.
Turning his head when he heard Miri asking if she'd been a good elephant, he yelled "Doesn't matter. Elephants don't go to heaven." There. That'd teach unrealistic, anthropomorphic elephants to exist. Rood.
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"Maeri."
Amiti stood with his hands on his hips, blood in his beard, glitter in his hair, with a stunning black eye. "Do you have any idea what I went through to get here? Who are these people? Maeri, you cannot just come trilling onto battlefields. Do you gave any idea of the magnitude of this scandal?" Personal safety was secondary to reputation.
"And now you've turned Selima into a mouse." Amiti was not impressed. He was doubly unimpressed at the man peddling around weepily on the tricycle.
"And hanging out with drug users?" Here he pointed to Khanh who would have been shedding clothes if he'd worn any. As it stood, Khanh's muscles were so over pronounced and his fur so glossy that Amiti was positive that he was a gym bro. The worst kind of person. "Maeri, look at that. That is not natural. No one gets muscles like that without sticking steroid needles in their butt cheeks and you know what I trust less than a 'roid addicted tiger, Maeri? Do you?"
He was on a roll now.
"You with fuzzy animals. Leave this mouse and this tiger alone and- oh my sweet juniper bush."
Miri's tears had leaked towards his sandals. Amiti picked up one foot, looking at the tear water on his sandal sole like it was dog poop. "Okay that's just great. Great. These are genuine leather sandals and now they have elephant tears. That's it. We are going home. Now."
He seized Maeri by the wrist, dragging her behind him, muttering about OSHA violations, the biohazards of traversing a battlefield, and obviously the cost of getting his beard cleaned. Salons were expensive.
Turning his head when he heard Miri asking if she'd been a good elephant, he yelled "Doesn't matter. Elephants don't go to heaven." There. That'd teach unrealistic, anthropomorphic elephants to exist. Rood.
"Maeri."
Amiti stood with his hands on his hips, blood in his beard, glitter in his hair, with a stunning black eye. "Do you have any idea what I went through to get here? Who are these people? Maeri, you cannot just come trilling onto battlefields. Do you gave any idea of the magnitude of this scandal?" Personal safety was secondary to reputation.
"And now you've turned Selima into a mouse." Amiti was not impressed. He was doubly unimpressed at the man peddling around weepily on the tricycle.
"And hanging out with drug users?" Here he pointed to Khanh who would have been shedding clothes if he'd worn any. As it stood, Khanh's muscles were so over pronounced and his fur so glossy that Amiti was positive that he was a gym bro. The worst kind of person. "Maeri, look at that. That is not natural. No one gets muscles like that without sticking steroid needles in their butt cheeks and you know what I trust less than a 'roid addicted tiger, Maeri? Do you?"
He was on a roll now.
"You with fuzzy animals. Leave this mouse and this tiger alone and- oh my sweet juniper bush."
Miri's tears had leaked towards his sandals. Amiti picked up one foot, looking at the tear water on his sandal sole like it was dog poop. "Okay that's just great. Great. These are genuine leather sandals and now they have elephant tears. That's it. We are going home. Now."
He seized Maeri by the wrist, dragging her behind him, muttering about OSHA violations, the biohazards of traversing a battlefield, and obviously the cost of getting his beard cleaned. Salons were expensive.
Turning his head when he heard Miri asking if she'd been a good elephant, he yelled "Doesn't matter. Elephants don't go to heaven." There. That'd teach unrealistic, anthropomorphic elephants to exist. Rood.
Okay. She was high. She had to be absolutely blitzed and she wondered for a moment how strong of that shit the weird hippie opium den mistress man-woman thing gave her. Tripping absolute balls, drunker than drunk, and watching the chaotic scene before her with wide brown eyes, she stood rooted to the sand. There were no words at first, then her gaze flicked up to watch the elephant literally... fall... to the... ground.
Holding one hand up, the other clutching the neck of a summer wine bottle, Skylla grimaced. "I think I need to vomit," she admitted mostly to herself. But she didn't. Thankfully. When she noted that everyone was staring at her, she shifted from one foot to the other and cleared her throat, waiting another random Judean wander in and pull one of the girls away.
"Sooooo..." she started, bringing the bottle back to her lips. "Does this like... happen often?" she wondered aloud, "Or am I just really really really insanely high? I think I'm high. Or drunk. Or both," she muttered to herself, stepping closer to the elephant and rider.
Glancing toward the bottle in her hand, she gauged how much was left by swirling it around in her hand. Maybe she'd had enough. "Oh. She's dead?" Skylla asked Nem, looking down at the elephant. "Shame, isn't it? But uh, nice ride," Skylla hummed, making finger guns at Nem and then snorting sharply. "Oh jesus christ, zeus, set, apollo, hades, krishna, buddah, flying spaghetti monster? Cathulu? Whatever the fuck... She's no Ferrari but I hope she has some sort of nice afterlife. I think? Maybe? Not really."
"God, I'm so fucking drunk. Whatishappening," Skylla hissed to herself in a rush, turning and walking away quickly in a gait that was none too graceful. She should have been helping the people on the battlefield, but getting drunk had sounded a whole lot better. This was absolute lunacy and she swore she would get more of whatever this shit was because it was *great*...
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Okay. She was high. She had to be absolutely blitzed and she wondered for a moment how strong of that shit the weird hippie opium den mistress man-woman thing gave her. Tripping absolute balls, drunker than drunk, and watching the chaotic scene before her with wide brown eyes, she stood rooted to the sand. There were no words at first, then her gaze flicked up to watch the elephant literally... fall... to the... ground.
Holding one hand up, the other clutching the neck of a summer wine bottle, Skylla grimaced. "I think I need to vomit," she admitted mostly to herself. But she didn't. Thankfully. When she noted that everyone was staring at her, she shifted from one foot to the other and cleared her throat, waiting another random Judean wander in and pull one of the girls away.
"Sooooo..." she started, bringing the bottle back to her lips. "Does this like... happen often?" she wondered aloud, "Or am I just really really really insanely high? I think I'm high. Or drunk. Or both," she muttered to herself, stepping closer to the elephant and rider.
Glancing toward the bottle in her hand, she gauged how much was left by swirling it around in her hand. Maybe she'd had enough. "Oh. She's dead?" Skylla asked Nem, looking down at the elephant. "Shame, isn't it? But uh, nice ride," Skylla hummed, making finger guns at Nem and then snorting sharply. "Oh jesus christ, zeus, set, apollo, hades, krishna, buddah, flying spaghetti monster? Cathulu? Whatever the fuck... She's no Ferrari but I hope she has some sort of nice afterlife. I think? Maybe? Not really."
"God, I'm so fucking drunk. Whatishappening," Skylla hissed to herself in a rush, turning and walking away quickly in a gait that was none too graceful. She should have been helping the people on the battlefield, but getting drunk had sounded a whole lot better. This was absolute lunacy and she swore she would get more of whatever this shit was because it was *great*...
Okay. She was high. She had to be absolutely blitzed and she wondered for a moment how strong of that shit the weird hippie opium den mistress man-woman thing gave her. Tripping absolute balls, drunker than drunk, and watching the chaotic scene before her with wide brown eyes, she stood rooted to the sand. There were no words at first, then her gaze flicked up to watch the elephant literally... fall... to the... ground.
Holding one hand up, the other clutching the neck of a summer wine bottle, Skylla grimaced. "I think I need to vomit," she admitted mostly to herself. But she didn't. Thankfully. When she noted that everyone was staring at her, she shifted from one foot to the other and cleared her throat, waiting another random Judean wander in and pull one of the girls away.
"Sooooo..." she started, bringing the bottle back to her lips. "Does this like... happen often?" she wondered aloud, "Or am I just really really really insanely high? I think I'm high. Or drunk. Or both," she muttered to herself, stepping closer to the elephant and rider.
Glancing toward the bottle in her hand, she gauged how much was left by swirling it around in her hand. Maybe she'd had enough. "Oh. She's dead?" Skylla asked Nem, looking down at the elephant. "Shame, isn't it? But uh, nice ride," Skylla hummed, making finger guns at Nem and then snorting sharply. "Oh jesus christ, zeus, set, apollo, hades, krishna, buddah, flying spaghetti monster? Cathulu? Whatever the fuck... She's no Ferrari but I hope she has some sort of nice afterlife. I think? Maybe? Not really."
"God, I'm so fucking drunk. Whatishappening," Skylla hissed to herself in a rush, turning and walking away quickly in a gait that was none too graceful. She should have been helping the people on the battlefield, but getting drunk had sounded a whole lot better. This was absolute lunacy and she swore she would get more of whatever this shit was because it was *great*...
There were many problems Selima had this was thread.
1. She was called rude. How dare they call her rude. She was a very not rude person.
2. Maeri didn’t tag her the last time she posted, even though she talked directly at her. How freaking dare she.
3. Amiti didn’t have a full paragraph about his beard. Also Khanh had no reaction to getting hit by a stick.
4. She worried about her job.
You see, Selima liked her job. Even though they don’t pay her, and if they don’t pay her she won’t get fancy colored writing. But it was still a satisfying job. She didn’t want to be seen as a traitor. She didn’t want to be fired or have to quit or hang her head in shame.
So Selima ignored the voice that said “Oh my god, that poor keyboard just wanted to live its life,” as she stepped closer to the dying elephant. She wiped the tear (which was more like a waterfall) from the elephant’s face. And Selima said the one word- the one word that the elephant was waiting for. She said the one word that kept this thread alive, even though they could have ended it with her death and she could have left to taken a shower. The one answer to end all answers.
“No.”
You see, Selima valued her position as staff. And halfway through her writing this post, another drunk staffer showed up. So Selima had to keep up appearances, no matter how betrayed she felt from this war elephant. She didn’t need staffers to know that she was a butterfly-traitor. She didn’t need them to kick her off and leave her pointless. At least not until Akila spoke in dark blue- that’s really all Selima had wanted.
So with this thread drawing to a close soon, Selima hopped into Skylla’s pocket, and drank a Long Island Ice Tea in her little pocket dimension, ready to be out of this thread so she could go to the shower that she deserved.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There were many problems Selima had this was thread.
1. She was called rude. How dare they call her rude. She was a very not rude person.
2. Maeri didn’t tag her the last time she posted, even though she talked directly at her. How freaking dare she.
3. Amiti didn’t have a full paragraph about his beard. Also Khanh had no reaction to getting hit by a stick.
4. She worried about her job.
You see, Selima liked her job. Even though they don’t pay her, and if they don’t pay her she won’t get fancy colored writing. But it was still a satisfying job. She didn’t want to be seen as a traitor. She didn’t want to be fired or have to quit or hang her head in shame.
So Selima ignored the voice that said “Oh my god, that poor keyboard just wanted to live its life,” as she stepped closer to the dying elephant. She wiped the tear (which was more like a waterfall) from the elephant’s face. And Selima said the one word- the one word that the elephant was waiting for. She said the one word that kept this thread alive, even though they could have ended it with her death and she could have left to taken a shower. The one answer to end all answers.
“No.”
You see, Selima valued her position as staff. And halfway through her writing this post, another drunk staffer showed up. So Selima had to keep up appearances, no matter how betrayed she felt from this war elephant. She didn’t need staffers to know that she was a butterfly-traitor. She didn’t need them to kick her off and leave her pointless. At least not until Akila spoke in dark blue- that’s really all Selima had wanted.
So with this thread drawing to a close soon, Selima hopped into Skylla’s pocket, and drank a Long Island Ice Tea in her little pocket dimension, ready to be out of this thread so she could go to the shower that she deserved.
There were many problems Selima had this was thread.
1. She was called rude. How dare they call her rude. She was a very not rude person.
2. Maeri didn’t tag her the last time she posted, even though she talked directly at her. How freaking dare she.
3. Amiti didn’t have a full paragraph about his beard. Also Khanh had no reaction to getting hit by a stick.
4. She worried about her job.
You see, Selima liked her job. Even though they don’t pay her, and if they don’t pay her she won’t get fancy colored writing. But it was still a satisfying job. She didn’t want to be seen as a traitor. She didn’t want to be fired or have to quit or hang her head in shame.
So Selima ignored the voice that said “Oh my god, that poor keyboard just wanted to live its life,” as she stepped closer to the dying elephant. She wiped the tear (which was more like a waterfall) from the elephant’s face. And Selima said the one word- the one word that the elephant was waiting for. She said the one word that kept this thread alive, even though they could have ended it with her death and she could have left to taken a shower. The one answer to end all answers.
“No.”
You see, Selima valued her position as staff. And halfway through her writing this post, another drunk staffer showed up. So Selima had to keep up appearances, no matter how betrayed she felt from this war elephant. She didn’t need staffers to know that she was a butterfly-traitor. She didn’t need them to kick her off and leave her pointless. At least not until Akila spoke in dark blue- that’s really all Selima had wanted.
So with this thread drawing to a close soon, Selima hopped into Skylla’s pocket, and drank a Long Island Ice Tea in her little pocket dimension, ready to be out of this thread so she could go to the shower that she deserved.
"Oh, she's dead?"
It couldn't be. It shouldn't be. It couldn't be because it shouldn't be. Amenemhat watched in horror as the war elephant's legs buckled and the thread hastened towards its inevitable end. He could feel the weary breathing of the mighty elephant beneath him, and then... he got the hell off of her. He might've been crushing her lungs together! What if he made it worse?
It doesn't matter, said Frogules in Nem's head, reminding him that he wasn't some little bitch that cried about dead elephants. As he felt the invisible puppet strings tighten and he heard the phantasmal clacking of the vile keyboard in the real world, there was nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Frogules isn't padding a word count, he swears. This means something.
So as the nothingness continued to fill the proprietor of elephants, he listened to the rest of the drunk whore he might've met in a different thread in the canon universe.
"No."
He heard the little mouse chant it out like some verdict from a judge in a powdered wig with a gavel. This little mouse thought herself so mighty. So tall. Amenemhat shrugged his shoulders, kindly reminded by his writer that Miri didn't really matter.
"No," he agreed.
She died, and by dying, she'd left him. So, no she wasn't a very good elephant at all.
"Later, bitches," Nem said, getting on his motorcycle (it's a motorcycle now stop flaming nerds) and taking the foreign whore with him for reasons that need additional tags to say explicitly.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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"Oh, she's dead?"
It couldn't be. It shouldn't be. It couldn't be because it shouldn't be. Amenemhat watched in horror as the war elephant's legs buckled and the thread hastened towards its inevitable end. He could feel the weary breathing of the mighty elephant beneath him, and then... he got the hell off of her. He might've been crushing her lungs together! What if he made it worse?
It doesn't matter, said Frogules in Nem's head, reminding him that he wasn't some little bitch that cried about dead elephants. As he felt the invisible puppet strings tighten and he heard the phantasmal clacking of the vile keyboard in the real world, there was nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Frogules isn't padding a word count, he swears. This means something.
So as the nothingness continued to fill the proprietor of elephants, he listened to the rest of the drunk whore he might've met in a different thread in the canon universe.
"No."
He heard the little mouse chant it out like some verdict from a judge in a powdered wig with a gavel. This little mouse thought herself so mighty. So tall. Amenemhat shrugged his shoulders, kindly reminded by his writer that Miri didn't really matter.
"No," he agreed.
She died, and by dying, she'd left him. So, no she wasn't a very good elephant at all.
"Later, bitches," Nem said, getting on his motorcycle (it's a motorcycle now stop flaming nerds) and taking the foreign whore with him for reasons that need additional tags to say explicitly.
"Oh, she's dead?"
It couldn't be. It shouldn't be. It couldn't be because it shouldn't be. Amenemhat watched in horror as the war elephant's legs buckled and the thread hastened towards its inevitable end. He could feel the weary breathing of the mighty elephant beneath him, and then... he got the hell off of her. He might've been crushing her lungs together! What if he made it worse?
It doesn't matter, said Frogules in Nem's head, reminding him that he wasn't some little bitch that cried about dead elephants. As he felt the invisible puppet strings tighten and he heard the phantasmal clacking of the vile keyboard in the real world, there was nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Frogules isn't padding a word count, he swears. This means something.
So as the nothingness continued to fill the proprietor of elephants, he listened to the rest of the drunk whore he might've met in a different thread in the canon universe.
"No."
He heard the little mouse chant it out like some verdict from a judge in a powdered wig with a gavel. This little mouse thought herself so mighty. So tall. Amenemhat shrugged his shoulders, kindly reminded by his writer that Miri didn't really matter.
"No," he agreed.
She died, and by dying, she'd left him. So, no she wasn't a very good elephant at all.
"Later, bitches," Nem said, getting on his motorcycle (it's a motorcycle now stop flaming nerds) and taking the foreign whore with him for reasons that need additional tags to say explicitly.
