What a joke.

Positively hilarious. (indie, nonprivate darkest dungeon rp blog)

[laughingstill-blog]

Coughs.

[jolbalrok]

“He will be laughing still… at the end.„ 🎭

[desert-warmth]

@laughingstill

[laughingstill-blog]

@eldritchbled

“Really,” Stafford spits, somewhat wounded. “Well then.” He clears his throat; rests one gloved hand against his chest; and begins singing. It’s well executed — slow, warm, it’s a perfect rendition of the song, the jester’s voice a low baritone. Still, it’s through gritted teeth that he says ‘there was never a man like my Johnny’.

[essor0706]

this game is awesome

[laughingstill-blog]

"I got bells. That go jingle jangle jingle."

[incorrectdarkestdungeonquotes]

“this is so sad jester play despacito”

— the Heir, after learning about the Ancestor’s descent to madness

[finnrakh-tybay-deactivated20220]

I managed to put the bloody game down for a moment and draw something!

[phoebecn]

Strong acids attack metals

[heejing20]

Ehhh… .. . Leaper?

[desert-warmth]

@laughingstill

[laughingstill-blog]

bulwarkofpain:

“Aye, but they’re things of our land. Do you need rest?” Reynauld places the back of his hand against Stafford’s forehead.

“Are you feeling my temperature by pressing your gauntlet against my mask.” Funnily enough, the sentence oozes less bite than average. Stafford’s tone could nearly be read as fond, as a matter of fact, if a very specific brand of embittered fondness. 

“No. No, I do not, I’m merely... baffled, by the growing oddity of the creatures the heir pits us against. Do you remember when we first stepped into the courtyard?”

A pause. 

“Whatever. Either it dies or we die, no? It’s always that simple.”

[laughingstill-blog]

bulwarkofpain:

“… Aliens don’t exist, Stafford.”

“Oh indeed. And vampires surely don’t as well. Or ghosts. Or men who keep a blasted skull on themselves to put hexes on you and summon tentacles from thin air.”

“Should I go on?”

[laughingstill-blog]

“I’m not paid enough to deal with aliens, says I.”

[laughingstill-blog]

I have a Jester named Ormond. Ormond has seen some shit. Hes been Crimson Cursed twice, lived through a Fanatic Fight on Deaths Door for 14 turns. Was the sole survivor after a Swine King fight. He's given the final hit on a Necromancer and a Siren. He's my strongest hero. I love him.

// oh my god… the strongest clown the estate has ever witnessed. i never met him and i love him too

[laughingstill-blog]

"The second is you, good man." - bulwarkofpain

He’s stunned into silence for a long, heavy moment —  as if he’d completely forgotten how to move his muscles, the jester simply stands still, immobile, holding his breath. One might as well think him dead, really.

Then he bursts into an hysterical laugh.

“Good joke, my friend! Good joke! Why am I even here, when you’re much funnier then I, eh?”

@bulwarkofpain

[laughingstill-blog]

Man-at-Arms: I assume you realize that this kind of idiocy will not be tolerated in the hamlet!

Jester: Is there another type of idiocy that you would be more comfortable with?

[laughingstill-blog]

“I miss the leper. His poetry was one of the two decent things in this place.”

[laughingstill-blog]

"Do you know why skeletons are terrible liars? Because you can see right through them.”