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hey do you want to go… out… out s…. outside. outside. do you want to go outside. there are plants out there. grass. trees. some flowers. leaves. birds. rocks. cool outside things. we could go out… side…… together……. and hold…… birds… maybe kiss… a leaf…….
Something to consider
The biggest dramatic reveal of RWBY volume 1 was that the girl with “a big bow that looks like cat ears” actually has a tiny set of cat ears under there. Truly this a compelling look at racism through the eyes of fantasy.
Remember that time your friend took his hat off and you were like “OH SNAP, YOU’RE BLACK?”
Reddit becomes a vicious battleground for a solid twenty four hours. This is the tale telling the story of Orangered and Periwinkle.
You see, the Orangereds have been ruling under a tyranny for too long. They took the upvotes and the notification envelope long ago, and have slowly been closing in on other parts of reddit, but no more.
The Periwinkles today decided to fight back. The sides were chosen so quickly that most people didn't even realize they had chosen a side. Some regretted what they chose, but it was too late to go back. Each faction made their basecamp, /r/periwinkle and /r/orangered . The battles were fought all over reddit, especially the main subs. But the war was concentrated in /r/FieldOfKarmicGlory .
Downvotes and upvotes ran wild, often regardless of the comment and only depending on the user's side. Soon people realized that they could give their allies hats that would appear on top of their username, and so they did. Then they realized that they could use random weapons that would appear in order to harm their enemies. And so they did. No one was safe from either side. Comments got scrambled. Random words bolded, spoiler tagged, italicized... Even /u/PresidentObama wasn't safe! Soon more abilities became realized-- healing potions to help your allies' injuries, weapons that prevented your enemy from up or downvoting, weapons that changed your enemy's cursor to be magical and sparkly... And all of these counted for the ultimate score that every user watched with a narrowed eye. It was chaos.
It wasn't long before the comment section was nearly unreadable behind all of the effects. But no one cared. They knew what was important, and that was the color of the dot next to the username--what team the user was on. Upvotes and downvotes were still fired, weapons used, hats given... Often to the wrong recipient but no one cared. They knew what they were getting into. This was war.
Periwinkle won the first major battle. The rebellion was strong and fresh in their minds. But they then grew apathetic and overconfident. They didn't realize that the leaders of reddit-- the mods, the admins, the powerusers-- were mostly on the Orangered side. And the ones on the Periwinkle side couldn't be trusted. Orangered won the second battle, and then the final battle came. The private basecamp subreddits were broken into, and suddenly opened to both teams.
We all knew we were nearing the end, and each side put their all into success. But the odds were stacked against the freedom fighters. Nothing could be done to save them. In the last moments, their randomly occurring weapons, that would get them their points, stopped occurring. Their attempts to post and comment in order to find a weapon led them to the dreaded "Reddit is Down!" page, preventing them from attacking. And worst of all-- some Periwinklian warriors defected. Whether they were forced to against their will by those in charge or chose to on their own is still unclear, but in the end, the only Periwinkles who had the ability to attack attacked their own kin.
With the odds stacked against against them so, the Periwinkles fell. Their hopes crushed and defeated, the Orangereds rose victorious, and remain in control of the upvote and the mail message, much to the Periwinkles' dismay. However, their spirits are not crushed. And with this battle came awareness of the tyranny of the Orangereds to the general public. All they can hope is that at the next battle, more will realize the necessity of their cause and join in the fight for justice and freedom.
TL ; DR:
Everyone was assigned to a side. Shit got serious. Downvotes were sent. There were weapons. Orangered won. The end.
Courtesy of DenryM: www.reddit.com/r/explainlikeIAmA…i_ignored/c96r2jo
The epic tale of Rhindon, a classically trained fencer, against an... interesting foe, to say the least.
Hm. This is perhaps the toughest question I've received thus far.
I'm going to try to walk through how I think this would go:
I'm walking home from practice in the late afternoon. The sun is at my back, casting a long shadow in front of me. I'm tired from a tough saber practice; I've been working on my Destreza and I'm beat.
I hear the screeching of tires behind me and I turn to see the creepiest white van I've ever seen barreling right towards me. On the sidewalk.
I dive out of the way, landing on my fencing bag with a sickening crunch. I know I just bent something horrifically out of shape and I'll have a mask-sized bruise on my side tomorrow.
I turn to look and see where the van went, maybe I can get its plates.
It's stopped 20 feet away.
The side door slides open and a wave of gasoline fumes hits me.
Then I hear it. The sound of the ripcord on a big Stihl weedwhacker being yanked. In three pulls I hear the whacker's started running.
So so do I.
A man, or at least it looks like a man, he's wearing a clown mask and baggy clothing so I can't be certain, jumps out of the van and starts chasing me.
I'm limping pretty badly, that fall really messed me up and I'm exhausted from practice, but the adrenaline's kicking in.
I realize soon though that I can't outrun this maniac. I throw my bag off and quickly pull out my mask and draw my saber; there's no time for my jacket, I'll just have to risk my arms.
He comes at me swinging. I step to the side and put my blade in the way of the plastic cord, cutting it, and make a downward cut to the head of this clown.
CLANG
He catches the saber in a two-handed block and swings back in a two-handed riposte, striking me across the mask.
My head swimming I hear the clown hit the head of the whacker on the ground, loading more twine into the spinning mechanism. He comes at me again. I use defense of measure to avoid his first thrust, then I duck to the left, hoping to catch him off guard as I toss the saber into my left hand and cut up, catching his elbow.
If the blade had been sharp the fight might have been over, but it's not, so with a shriek the clown wheels around with what can only be called a weedwhacker roundhouse to my right shoulder.
I drop into a passata sotto so the whacker passes over me, just barely drawing blood in a line on the back of my unprotected neck. It stings, but not as much as the thrust I put into the clown's gut. Again, a pity it's not a sharp.
The clown stumbles back, eyeing me up. I'm clearly more trouble than he originally anticipated but he's not giving up. And I can't run, I have no choice but to fight on.
Back and forth, we attack/parry/riposte. My shoulder is bruised, I'm bleeding from a dozen cuts on my arms where the whacker bit deep. I've landed a few good blows, but I know my only chance to end this is if I can land a strike to the clown's perpetually grinning face.
We dance our dance of death, spinning and whirling. Steel meeting steel, cord meeting flesh. Our strength flagging. Finally I see it. An opening. Just what I've been looking for. When he swings left to right there's the briefest instant where he's off-balance. If I can get the proper disengage I can thrust to the face.
I take a savage blow to the hip and fall to one knee, rolling to the left to dodge a savage overhead blow that resembles the Zornhau from Liechtenauer.
I get to my feet, not so quickly as before, and wait for that opening. He swings right to left, I have no choice but to catch it high on the blade and hope to deflect it.
ting the blade goes as it pushes the whacker over my head.
A quiet thump hits the ground. I look.
Half of my blade lies there, ten feet from me. As I look at it in shock the clown swings again, this time jumping in the air and swinging at a diagonal.
I catch the full force of it on my bell guard which dents terribly and is wrenched from my hand and thrown out of my sight as I'm knocked to the ground once more.
I roll over and over as the clown brings the whacker crashing down where I used to be, hoping to avoid my fate. I feel a pain in my side.
The broken half of the blade!
I slowly reach around behind my back and grasp it firmly, knowing I'll only have once chance. One chance to make this count.
The clown comes up to me. Dropping the weedwhacker beside me, knowing I'm defeated.
He reaches down to lift off my mask as I lay still, feigning unconsciousness.
As he gets to one knee to savor the up close kill he bends over me.
I headbutt him right in the face. With a yell he falls over and I roll on top of him, stabbing him with the broken tip of my saber. Surprised, hurt, and angry he pushes me off, all my energy spent, but he's now wary and bleeding, he rushes back to the van and gets in.
All I hear as everything fades to black and I lose consciousness for real is one of my friends running up yelling my name, and the quiet sound of an ice cream truck driving away at high speed...
tl;dr: Get my butt kicked, but give about as good as I got. Headbutt gloating clown in the face and he runs off with a few stab wounds as I pass out.
Courtesy of Rhindon on Reddit: www.reddit.com/r/Fencing/comment…encer_ama/c95zc84
An Ancient Roman translation of a sexually desperate man.
Either get out of my house or conform to my tastes, woman.
I'm no strait-laced old Roman.
I like prolonging the nights agreeably with wine; you, after one glass of water,
Rise and retire with an air of hauteur.
You prefer darkness; I enjoy fucking
With a witness - a lamp shining or the dawn breaking
You wear long nightgowns, tunics, thick woolen stuff,
Whereas I think no woman on her back can ever be naked enough.
I love girls who kiss like doves and hang round my neck;
You give me the sort of peck
Due to your grandmother as a morning salute.
In bed, you're motionless, mute -
Not a wriggle, not a giggle -
As solemn as a priestess at a shrine
Proffering incense and pure wine
Yet every time Andromache went for a ride
In Hector's room, the household slaves would jack off outside;
Even modest Penelope, when Ulysses snored,
Kept her hand on the prick of her lord.
You refuse to be fucked up the ass, but it's a fact
That Gracchus', Pompey's, and Brutus' wives got into that act,
That before Ganymede mixed Jupiter his tasty bowl,
Juno filled the dear boy's role.
If you want to be prudish, well, all right,
Be a Lucretia by day, but I need a Lais at night.
Courtesy of heyheymse on Reddit: www.reddit.com/r/AskHistorians/c…elatively/c96wjfp
A discussion about how the little things in life can fuck someone up. Big time.
That literally every thing you have ever done has impacted the world in ways you cant even imagine. Dropped gum on the floor? Someone else steps on it. This causes him a minor inconvenience of about 30 seconds of scraping. He gets in his car and heads to work. This causes him to approach a light 30 seconds later than he would have. He misses the green light. He misses the elevator up to his office. Now he is late. This was his third strike at a very strict job. He got fired. His wife leaves him. His house goes into foreclosure. All because you dropped your gum in the wrong place. Now its not all bad things, you will set murders and all manner of other things in motion, but you also push people together, create love, get people laid, all manner of things. Still you ruined that dudes life you gum dropping bastard.
Courtesy of Frogeye on Reddit: http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/1bb7p3/what_is_the_most_unsettling_fact_that_you_know/c95die8
A story of Tim's gradual descent into insanity.
My roommate Tim had a habit of leaving his keys laying about, on the dining table, on top of the microwave, on windowsills, etc. so my other roommate and I started moving them to the freezer every time we found Tim's keys. Why the freezer, we don't know, but in our mind, we were doing him some sort of favor; the freezer may be an inconvenient spot for keys, but at least it was consistent. Nonetheless, Tim would always bitch at us for it, but that didn't stop us.
One day, while shopping for groceries, we see that Kroger has lime flavored jello for 50¢ a box, so we buy a few, and wait for Tim to leave his keys out.
Well, the deed was done, Tim's keys were encased in a block of jello, which itself was in the freezer. We knew Tim would be pissed, but neither of us could of guessed just how pissed. As we entered our house that afternoon, we notice an odd, citrusy smell. Walking into the kitchen, we see it: lime jello everywhere. There is jello on the counter, on the floor, on the ceiling. Jello smeared across the walls, and splattered behind appliances. It was as if someone had detonated a hand grenade in a block of jello, then proceeded to walk around blindfolded, smearing jello as they grasped for a recognizable surface.
And that, my anonymous internet friends, is the story of how Tim began his gradual descent into insanity.
Courtesy of why-not-zoidberg on Reddit: www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comme…ure_prank/c93oeda
Quick little bitty from this post. Want to work on it more, give it maybe a movie trailer background theme or some such. I feel like this has potential to be a nice little piece of work. Maybe take it, throw it on as narration to a pair of twin sisters playing out the part for a mock movie trailer. I think it would be cute if anybody were interested.
Also, can this please be a thing? The Karp sisters, I mean? It's kinda cute. Not gonna lie. I seriously wanna see more of these two cuties.
