Mórrígan Dubh
Member
Posts: 680 
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Jan 15, 2016 18:40:51 GMT -8
*Mórrígan, beginning to show signs of hypothermia cannot resist her pathological urge steal boarding on kleptomania and after pocketing several of Chilly Whillie's possessions bored with the antics of the Broadstreet Bullies claps her hands yelling*
"Good enough boys!!!"
*She then turns walking out*
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Post by 1976 Flyers Starting Lineup on Jan 15, 2016 18:45:23 GMT -8
*At Mórrígan's call the players, realising that they have passed the magical page 2 mark, cease the battle picking up gloves sticks and all that and file behind her quietly. The team has left the building*
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Shaman Chill
Administrator 
Stay frosty, my friends!
Posts: 2,251
Affiliation: The Ancient Order of the Whills
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Post by Shaman Chill on Jan 16, 2016 18:54:31 GMT -8
Chill, from deep within the ice sheet itself, merely blinks and shakes his head in mild annoyance, the massive font size of the revelers causing his beady, avian eyes to twitch. He makes a mental note to have the Zamboni crew severely disciplined for relying on Australian engineering for the crucial ice resurfacing equipment.
Unfortunately for Mórrígan, little did she know or realize, every single object within the great Icehouse is made of nothing but the finest Tython enchanted ice, and will melt into faint misty nothingness once they are removed from the brutally cold house of the Icewhill. Shrugging the shoulders of his frosty flippers, Chill was not at all displeased at the theft, but instead, he exhales several times, and the moisture within his breath crystallized, replacing all that he had lost with newer and better furnishings and decor.
Oozing from the wall, he takes physical form, and snaps his flippers. The yellow ice in the far corner instantly sublimates, carried by air currents outside the confines of the Icehouse, and deposits itself in the loo, as if the very molecules themselves feared the power of the Whill.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jun 13, 2020 14:35:14 GMT -8
*Materializes and licks the wall. Becomes stuck.*
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Shaman Chill
Administrator
Stay frosty, my friends!
Posts: 2,251
Affiliation: The Ancient Order of the Whills
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Shaman Chill on Jul 12, 2020 19:15:53 GMT -8
*Materializes and licks the wall. Becomes stuck.* |
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 945
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 21, 2020 13:45:21 GMT -8
Havok stands, with ice cream cone wagging, still stuck hanging from his tongue, and turns to thank his liberator.
Havok's gaze was captured by the dark depths of the bird's beady eyes. Deeper and deeper, Havok was pulled into the chilly, drowning, crushing depths. Like soulless blackholes that neither matter, nor light could escape.
Havok was entranced, unable to look away. This bird was old. Impossibly old. The crow's feet at the Whill's temples said much, and yet nothing- ringing those eyes like an accretion disc spiraling around the event horizon of a singularity.
Havok tried to fight the madness rising within himself. It was the terror born from thrashing about in water, when the bottom is out of reach. He wanted to look away. But he forced himself to continue gazing, certain that at the bottom of these two infinite bird-bath maelstroms Havok would find absolute unfathomable truth. What fowl plots did they hold? What bird-brained schemes did they contain? What chilly secrets could they tell? HE MUST KNOW!!!
*Havok continued to stare at Chilly Whilly, while a magic ice cream cone dangled from his tongue.*
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Twi'leck Triplet Dubh
Member
Pog mo thoin
Posts: 415
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Twi'leck Triplet Dubh on Aug 16, 2021 13:57:26 GMT -8
Shakk indeed had needed to use the she came to a door way. And she read -Shakk- "The Freezing[/font Outhouse of Kill. Uhh. Rd doesn't sound goood." Facing on her toes, left hand, she needs to pee, do I really need to write this out for people to understand? Anyway, after several minutes of agonizing wzit, Shakk rifled behind one the many frozen bodies, did her thing and headed for the door. On her way, after finding a hammer, she couldn't resist pounding a little sign into the floor The Tale of the Twi'leck Three Her filthy business done, plus relieving herself, the Twi'leck walked down the hallowed halls whistling contently
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