Well, it seems some little bitches have devices not capable of loading all my magnificent writing in the other thread, so this new thread shall be for them. Here's the original masterpiece.
Chapter XX: Pre-Massacre Banter
The Council of Nine sat around a large table covered in various horrific stains in the war room. Sky was also there for some reason, even she wasn't a council member, she just sat there, strumming a didgeridoo, or beating it with her fists, or... what the fuck do you even do with a didgeridoo? Is it like a flute? Fuck it, she didn't have a didgeridoo, she had a boomerang. Outside the window they could hear countless children laughing and playing outside.
"For fuck's sake, what are they doing?!" Lady Mizal yelled. "This is a fucking library-city, not a fucking playground! We need to put an end to this?"
"What the fuck do you expect us to do? We couldn't even kill Cutty!" Bucky complained.
"Well I done marmalade didgeridoo kanga-Wik Peoples v Queensland 1996," Sky said.
"I'm not the only one already sick of this bit, am I?" Mr IAP complained.
The door to the Undead King's room opened, as Thara strolled out, skipping along as her obnoxiously short skirt jiggled as she headed down the stairs and out of the tower.
"Oh for fuck's sake! When did we start letting her in?!" Mizal yelled, kicking over her chair.
The Undead King opened the door to his room, sniffling as he took his seat.
"Are you... crying?" Bucky asked. "What has happened to you?"
"No! I'm... I'm fucking furious! You're all just sitting around here doing shit all! Mizal's just loudly bitching, Axiom's bitching while calling it a review, Bucky's not doing shit, Steve is touching himself, I don't know who the fuck that is but she keeps saying marmite and doing nothing else interesting, Mister IAP is just smoking his comically large cigar and Lacker is humping my fucking boot!"
"Yeah, he does that a lot. It's pretty pathetic you haven't noticed," Axiom criticized. "I think since Wibbins was kicked out he has no one touching his junk."
There was a painfully loud squelch before the Undead King's gaze slowly dropped to the floor.
"Did he just cum on my new boot?" the Undead King asked.
"No, it seems he shat on your bo..." Bucky began to say before there was another squelch. "Oh no, yeah he just came."
"For fuck's sake, you guys are useless! It's pathetic! You need the Soul Banisher to get some shit done. I'll be back in a few minutes."
The Undead King stormed out the door, leaving the council there.
"He's done whacked the dingo and got the baby," Sky said sadly. "We sure threw the boomerang and it didn't come back Canberra James Cook marmite dingo."
"He's right. We're all shit. Especially you, Mizal," Axiom criticized.
"I'm getting a drink," Steve said.
"Your alcoholism is one of the biggest problems we have, you dick!"
"Hey, we deal with the fact no one understands the aussie cunt, one of us is a fucking Capybara and I don't think any of you have noticed, but I'm pretty sure Ivy's vanished! Fix that shit and I'll stop drinking!"
Steve spat on the table while thrusting his genitals, before spinning around and walking to the fridge, opening it and searching for another bottle of cidar.
"We shouldn't even have a fridge! We haven't even invented the lightbulb! This is medieval time!" Axiom criticized.
"Oh I'm sorry, do you want to go to storing shit in the salt pit! Because not only did everything taste salty and warm, but cats pissed in it!" Steve hissed, grabbing a bottle and pulling it out before slamming the fridge shut.
Steve froze, staring at the half naked, balding fat man who stood next to the fridge, eating a sandwich.
The man stared at Steve, continuing to eat his sandwich.
"Hey," the man said.
The man stared at Steve, his mouth partially agape and drooling as he stared at Steve with dull eyes. Steve stared at the oversized ape, wondering whether his clenching would be more powerful than the man's thrusting.
"Are you gonna drink that?" the man asked, stepping forward.
Snake Steve hissed as Steve fumbled for his mace, stepping back.
"You stay the fuck back or Snake Steve's going so far up your ass you'll be able to taste his venom."
"OK", the man grunted, taking another bite of his sandwich.
"Alright, who the fuck you are and why the fuck you are here?"
"I'm Jim," the man mumbled, his mouth filled with a mouthful of chewed bread, butter and ham. "Bucky invited me."
"Bucky! Get the fuck over here!" Steve yelled, as another slack-jawed dumbass sauntered out of Bucky's room.
"Hey," she said, as Steve raised his mace defensively.
Bucky rushed over, raising his sword.
"Why the fuck are there so many slack jawed idiots here and why do they think you invited them here?"
"I ate my best friend," Jim said.
"I did invite them. What's wrong with them?"
Jim let out a rumbling fart that for once made Steve envy the Jews in Dakau.
"I... is this a bit? Are we in a bit right now? Is this because of what I did to your toothbrush?"
"What did you do to my toothbrush?" Bucky asked, his eyes narrowing.
"I cleaned my teeth with it. I just didn't stick it in my mouth."
Content with two "Getting things in the mouth through inserting them in the rectum" jokes in about a minute, Steve knew his wit would only get worse from there and sat back down. Suddenly, the door burst open as the Undead King dragged in a small child who cried and wept constantly.
"Who the fuck is that?" Mizal asked.
"This is a cute little _tot_. I have a plan," the Undead King said. "We're going to cause some major shit in this town, and the Soul Banisher's going to help us do it."
Chapter XXI: KILL! BURN! PURGE!
"Why is there a kid there?" Mister IAP asked, staring at the scrawny little child in the Undead King's arm.
"Oh, is that Thara's kid?" Steve asked. "Pop in on the table and I can give you a discount abortion!"
"Thara doesn't have a kid. She makes sure she can't get pregnant," the Undead King said, staring at the ground sadly. "She makes me lick... I mean this kid's the key to everything. The playgrounds are full of dumbasses talking and laughing and playing games! We need to purge them! But all of you are too pathetic to do so, so I'm getting someone more powerful. The Soul Banisher."
"The Soul Banisher's right there," Mizal said, sticking her thumb out to point at the massive doors to the Soul Banisher's chambers.
"No. I want to give him a mortal form to truly cause chaos!"
"A mortal form?" Mizal said, pausing. "How?"
"This little _tot_ is a true loner, an unlikable little prick who's a virgin. If we can sacrifice him, his soul will be devoured by the Soul Banisher, and he can possess the little bastard!"
"I don't want to have my soul eaten!" _tot_ shrieked.
"Shut it, you little prick. I already promised I wouldn't kill you and you'd be fine."
"Oh, OK," the stupid little bastard said, wiping away his tears.
"I'm going to dump this little bastard in the Soul Banisher's chambers," the Undead King said, strolling forward.
The Undead King opened the door, tossing the child head first into the chambers.
"Ah... a little flesh puppet," the dark voice of insanity laughed, as the Undead King frantically shut the door behind him.
The Council of Nine sat around the table, playing cards.
"OH GOD! It's eating my sanity! Leave me be! DEATH! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME!" _tot_ screamed.
"Shut it!" Bucky yelled. "Alright, Mizal, got any fours?"
"Yeah," Mizal said, tossing out a four of spades.
"Done blimey cricket my boomerang Rolf Harris Aborigine?" Sky asked, as the rest of the Council once again skipped her turn.
"It's all dead! Nothing is left! Nothing remains! All is dust!" _tot_ howled.
"Got any...?" Mister IAP began to ask, before Steve slammed his hand down on the table.
"Royal flush, bitches! Fuck all of you!" Steve yelled.
"We're playing Go Fish!" Bucky said.
"How about Go Fuck yourself, because I got a royal flush?" Steve said, giving him the finger.
"You're... you're just so stupid," Axiom criticized.
The door to the Soul Banisher's chambers were kicked open. What was once _tot_ stood there. His... or its, more likely, hair and skin was drenched with blood and sweat. Its teeth were mangled and pointed like a predators. Its eyes were so horribly blank it seemed to suck your soul into the sockets.
"Hello, slaves," it said. "It seems you need me to take a more humanoid form."
"We..." Mizal said, trembling as she realized the Soul Banisher had taken on a human shell. "I kinda expected you to take on a less scary figure. Like Morgan Freeman."
The Soul Banisher ignored her, expecting his new form. His claw-like finger nails dug into his arm, peeling away a long strip of flesh and sniffing it, before tossing it aside.
"So pathetic. So frail. So weak. This form will need to rest in a few hours. Let's take advantage of the time we have now, shall we?"
"What... what are we doing?" Bucky asks.
"Slaughter, of course!" the Soul Banisher said, laughing. "The playgrounds were the issue you complained about, wasn't it? Let's take my flesh puppet for a spin, shall we? Let's purge!"
"I want to play the vampire! You always get to be the werewolf!" one of the children yelled, hopping atop the seesaw.
"Yeah, but I'm more of a vampire!" the other child complained. "You're more hairy. You can be the werewolf."
Both the pair stopped, seeing a little boy who looked particularly... werewolf-y strolling down the streets, singing.
"I've got no string to hold me down, to make me fret, or make me frown, I had string, but now I'm free, there are no strings on me!" the boy sang.
"Hey there!" the first child yelled. "Do you want to play? You can be the werewolf!"
The new child strolled over, laughing.
"Hello there, little thing," he said, grinning as his skin broke open and his face split to allow him to grin even wider.
"Oh! Hey, you're bleeding! You need to go to a...!"
"Ssssh," the new child hushed, gently grabbing the first child by the neck and gently pressing his lips again the first child's forehead. "So young. So innocent. I've heard enough of your words. Let me here your screams."
In a single motion, the new child bit down on the first child's forehead, tearing into his flesh and releasing a wave of blood. He jabbed his fingers into the kid's stomach, tearing out a length of intestine. The kid screamed as his friend stared in horror, unable to move. The new child slowly pulled out a length of intestine, squeezing it as it popped to let blood and half-digested food wall to the ground. With a gentle push, the new child knocked the first child to the ground, as his blood stained the ground.
"Ssssh," the new... "child" hushed again. "Watch. Watch the life flow from him and feed the soil. So quick, isn't it? I'm going to make you beg for that quickness."
The second child burst into tears, warm urine filling his pants. The Soul Banisher laughed once more, flicking the child's ear. He began to speak, emphasizing each word with another gentle flick.
"You'll... beg. But... you... won't... receive it!"
The boy continued to sob and the first child continued to scream, but both sounds were drowned out by the Soul Banisher's horrifying laughter.
Steve stuck the torch under a wooden jungle gym, stepping back as it burst into flames. He stepped to stand with the rest of the Council Members, staring at the destruction around them.
"I... I didn't think it'd be this bad," Mizal said, staring at the horror around her.
One of the bodies, a tiny little form missing her lower body began to drag herself along the ground, its intestines trailing behind her. She stared up at the Council Members, despite being unable to see as her eyes had been brutally torn out. She opened her mouth, spitting out the bits of flesh that had been forced in there.
"Please... kill me," she begged.
Bucky moved forward to finish her off, but Mizal stopped him.
"The Soul Banisher said to leave them suffer or there'd be hell to pay."
Bucky stared down at the girl, wondering what hell the Soul Banisher could dream up if this was his idea of play-time.
The Undead King appeared, stepping over a desperately writhing mass of multiple mutilated children stitched together into an unholy being and walking over.
"The Soul Banisher is finished. He's heading back to his chambers. He said now that the games areas have been purged, we can replace it with a brand new library. I'd say we'll call it Creative Corner."
The group stared around at the carnage around them, wondering how they could ever be redeemed for their action.
Then they realized Malk was humping a corpse of a beheaded child in Capybara form, and they laughed and headed to get a drink as they realized this was funny. Fuck these stupid kids, the Council of Nine had won! They'd get their Creative Corner!
Oops. That should be "corpse of a beheaded child". Whatever.
Replaced what you meant to say instead.
Cheers, my good man.
Charmeleon is too boring to have a personality, hence all his alts are easily disposable goons.
Chapter XXII: No such thing as a free meal
The Council strolled along the road, the Soul Banisher leading the way. The Eldritch being contained in the child sung in an eerily childlike voice as the peasants desperately ran and hid.
"I've got no string to hold me down, to make me fret, or make me frown, I had string, but now I'm free, there are no strings on me!" the horror sang.
The boy paused, turning down a side street towards the soup kitchen. There, a group of kind-faced men handed out bowls of soup and Thrones to the lame, the retarded, the fairly ugly and really just the general shit of the city.
"Hello, good sirs! What is this establishment, may I ask?"
The peasants and their patrons froze, staring at the blood-covered boy. The boy smiled, grinning wide.
"What is it? Do I have something in my teeth?" he asked.
The boy reached into his mouth, pulling out a strip of skin from his last victim and throwing it out.
"Got it. So, what is this establishment?"
A young man stepped forward, a child hiding behind him.
"A s-soup kitchen, sir. We give a bowl of soup and a Point to the citizens every day," he said, nervously.
"Child, come here," he said, walking forward.
The child nervously stepped forward, walking towards the Soul Banisher with the young man following.
"Wait, if you're going to pu...!"
The Soul Banisher's eyes flickered with annoyance and for the briefest of moments the clouds were illuminated to reveal billions of tendrils rapidly descending from the sky with the voice of a billion dying angels filling his flesh puppet's lungs.
"SILENCE!" he screams.
The young man fell silent, staring at him.
"Are you hungry, boy?" the Soul Banisher asked.
The child nodded nervously.
"Hold out your bowl, child," the Soul Banisher demanded.
The child held out his empty bowl, staring ahead nervously. The Soul Banisher smiled, before grabbing the young man and tearing his stomach open with a flash of his claws. The child screamed and tried to run but with his spare hand the Soul Banisher grabbed his hand and held the bowl in place. The young man screamed as blood and guts spilled out into the bowl, before collapsing on the ground. The child wept, as the Soul Banisher leaned forward.
"Eat," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
"What?" the boy asked.
"Eat!" the Soul Banisher roared. "You were happy to leach off the strong when what you took from them was only the product of their blood, sweat, tears, guts and courageousness! Now that I give you the real thing does your belly shrink?!"
The boy stared up at him, realizing what he needed to do. Sobbing, he slowly grabbed a tract of intestine, bringing it to his lips and taking a small bite.
"Good. From now on, this is no longer a Soup Kitchen. The Mods will determine who has worked hard enough to eat. Now, you've all filled your belly with food not earned. Unless you want me to cut them open to take it back, get to work building the new Library."
The peasants burst off, as did the charity workers. The Soul Banisher grabbed one, looking at him.
"What's your name, charity worker?"
"Will, sir," the man said.
"Ah yes, I've heard of your generosity towards the city. Fetch me Bijorn Frosthammer and return here," he said.
The boy nodded, running off. With that, the Soul Banisher took seat at one of the benches and began eating from the bowl of guts and blood.
"I'm not really liking the way our adventures are turning. We used to have fun. Now it's just him murdering people," Mizal complained.
"Hey, where's Bucky?" Steve asked.
"We're not talking about that," Mizal answered.
"Wait, w...!" Steve said, before he was interrupted by Sky.
"Oh, didgeridoo Khao Pad Communism Olympics Tank Man Tibet is part of China," she said through her oversized teeth, staring at them with tiny, slanted eyes.
"What the fuck has happened her?"
"I been normal Koala bear flied lice city wok," Sky answered.
Steve froze, falling over as he stared up at her in horror.
"How long has she been Asian?" Steve asked.
"Uh... always?" Mister IAP asked.
"Dammit!" Steve complained. "I touched myself to thoughts of her! Oh god!"
"Still am," General Lacker said, as everyone realized he wasn't just scratching his nuts.
"Jesus, Malk! Stop jerking it!" Axiom said, as the wind whispered "You're doing great! Don't forget the balls!", which only caused Malk to increase his efforts fervently.
"Oh, you've gone and dingo ate my baby Mongolians tear down my wall!" Sky said in disgust, kicking Malk in the balls.
At the feeling of human touch, especially female, Malk filled his pants with a satisfied grunt and spewing a puddle of a certain fluid onto the ground before transforming into a Capybara, where he began licking said fluid up.
"So like, what even is her character? Is she just a foreign person we don't understand? Does she actually do anything interesting?"
"I can understand her," Mister IAP said.
"Fuck it, I can't. Her few words of English are totally unstructured," Axiom criticized.
"Oh great, now look what you've done!" Mizal said. "When he drinks that he gets sick in the night!"
"That's not because he drinks... that. He gets sick every night, doesn't he?" Mister IAP asked.
"No, it's because he drinks that, and he does," Mizal sat, kicking Malk in the head and trying to scare him away, but the kicking only caused the Capybara to try to approach the puddle genitals first in hopes of a second go.
Suddenly, Will arrived with the massive, mighty Bijron Frosthammer with him, holding his signature hammer which sucked the heat out of the air. The Soul Banisher grinned, standing.
"Ah, friends!" he said.
He walked forward as the two nervously stared at him.
"Seeing as I'm making my control over this town more obvious, I thought I'd give some favored servants of the city a gift, yes?"
The pair looked at each other, frowning.
The Soul Banisher stepped forward wiping blood from the corners of his mouth and drawing a strange, eldritch symbol on each of their foreheads.
"There. You are now favored sons of the city. Feel free to take a few brides to celebrate, maybe a trophy."
The pair nodded, before the Soul Banisher's grin vanished.
"Well? FUCK OFF!"
The pair quickly took heel and ran off, before the Soul Banisher returned to his seat and continued.
The Council of Nine awkwardly realized that with the exception of Malk they were hungry and walked into the soup kitchen, grabbing bowls of soup for themselves.
Fuck, life was getting depressing.
Chapter XXIII: The New Council
The Soul Banisher stared at the delightful city beneath him. The walls were lined with the crucified failures of those who had failed him, their pitiful screams for mercy unanswered. The gates were open as a stream of scum flooded into the city. All those once exiled, rapists, murders, pedophiles, thieves, brutes and other villains were welcomed back with open arms, provided they could write. The peasants who weren't chained to tables and forced to write brawled in the street. The mighty Marauders, the wise Sages, the intelligent sages, and the fuckhole Wardens, all supposed valiant Orders that were little more than a distraction. When the peasants fought each other, his reign was unchallenged. The Soul Banisher grinned, feeling the corners of his mouth tear open as blood flowed down his face. This was glorious.
The Soul Banisher turned and walked back into the tower. A few of the pathetic Council of Nine was there. Axiom had her nose in a book about cats or some bullshit, Mizal played with a knife, clearly bored as Malk frantically humped her boot, some animal part of his brain connecting sexuality to leather through his memories of Gimp Suits in his last career before joining the council. Steve was lying on the couch, downing bottles of whiskey. Mister IAP sharpened his sword on a grindstone.
"Is this all you're going to do today?" the Soul Banisher said.
"I guess I'm going to touch myself," Steve shrugged.
"What's there to do? Everyone's productive!" Mizal said.
"Zag put on a new play about Tim and Chris! Burn that shit to the ground! Fight for your Orders! Do something!"
"Do I seriously have to start making a thrusting motion to show you how gay that is? Oh, Malk's already doing it!"
"Axiom, are you going to do anything?!" the Soul Banisher said.
"I'm up for anything!" Axiom said in a high pitch, showing off her impressive ventriloquism act.
"Oh, really?" the Soul Banisher said.
"No!" Axiom said loudly in her regular voice. "Fuck off, I'm doing real work."
The Soul Banisher considered shattering their morale, or killing them, or brutally tearing them apart, before sighing. He turned, walking down the stairs of the tower and walking out the door. He needed something new. Something better than this pathetic council.
The Soul Banisher had an idiot who couldn't lead a dog on a leash, a bitchy cynic, a horny rodent, a rotting sleazeball, a drunken prickand IAP, who he liked, but kept bad company. He needed new minions.
The first character to replace was obviously a strong leader to replace Lady Mizal. Although Mizal was prone to brutalizing anyone she thought could replace her, there was still Thara.
After stopping in to Set's and paying the greedy mercahnt a Point he was directed to the dungeons. The grunts of pain, pleasure and a mixture of both filled his ears as entered Thara's private dungeon. He paused, finding the Undead King strapped to the wall, dressed in a maid's outfit. Although the Soul Banisher had seen things that would shatter a mere mortal's mind, this gave him pause.
"Uh... hey," he said.
"This isn't what it looks like," the Undead King said.
"I'm sure it isn't."
"This is foreplay. I'm getting head afterwards."
Although the Undead King's genitalia looked the closest to "malnourished" a dick could get, the Soul Banisher nodded.
"Is someone talking? I...!" Thara said, walking into the dungeon. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know we had company."
The Soul Banisher stared at Thara, who was completely naked. He paused after a second, realizing that there were thin, see-through strips of fabrics over her breasts and genitals that could technically qualify as clothes in the same way motor boating counts as friendship.
"I need your help, Thara. How would you like to be my minion?"
"She's already my min...!" End began to say, before cowering from Thara's whip.
"Happy to!" Thara said.
"Good. Meet me at the Council of Nine's tower in about an hour, got it?"
"Yes, sir!" Thara grinned.
Next was a dumbass who spewed out stories and has delusions of grandeur. The obvious choice was the Small King. The boy, who had inherited his crown by being both the son, brother, nephew, cousin and uncle of the previous king of a small, unknown nation, due to incredible amounts of incest, and the only surviving citizen of said nation, due to incredible amounts of incest. He was found in the back of Set's, shitting in a bush and wiping his ass with a book.
"Are you the Small King?" the Soul Banisher asked.
"Of course!" the boy grinned, finishing wiping his ass and closing the book shut. "How may I help you?"
"I didn't mean to interrupt your shitting, but I..."
"What?" the Small King said, confused. "I'm not shitting, I'm writing. This is my newest book."
The Soul Banisher paused, the high amount of books submitted by the Small King now clear. Never the less, at least he understood how to wipe his ass after shitting, something the twat he was replacing didn't know.
"I need your help. Just go to the Council of Nine's tower in an hour, OK?"
"Got it," the Small King said.
"That's it? No questions? You're not the slightest bit c...?"
Seeing a fly do its name into his ear and come out the other side, the Soul Banisher decided to turn away and focus on the next person.
Next was the one who's actually able to get shit done. Although he wouldn't mind keeping Mister IAP around, he had some form of loyalty to the old council. He quickly found the perfect target, hanging half-naked wearing animal furs from the city walls alongside a few Beastmen. With a flick of his wrists the Beastmen exploded into flames, collapsing down the wall. Then, he turned to Wibbins, who hung there.
"Make it quick," she said, closing her eyes in terror.
"Relax, I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to recruit you."
"R-recruit me?" Wibbins asked.
"I need a capable minion. Are you up for it?"
"Y-yes, sir. Th-thank you, sir," Wibbins nodded.
The Soul Banisher grabbed Wibbins by the hand, lifting her up to the top of the wall.
"Get to the Council of Nine's tower, got it?"
Wibbin's eyes widened.
"No, I can't! They ki...!"
The Soul Banisher grabbed her by the throat, lifting her into the air and holding her above the wall.
"I asked for a capable individual. Not one that questions," he snarls.
He released his grip, as Wibbins shrieked and fell through the air. He grabbed her by her hair, yanking her to a stop as she screamed.
"OK! Please, just don't hurt me! I don't want to die!"
The Soul Banisher tossed her to the top of the wall.
"Get to the tower and wait for me."
Wibbins nodded and pointed her tear-filled eyes at her feet.
"Good," the Soul Banisher grinned, turning to walk onto finding the next target.
Next was a whiny critic. Axiom's criticism had helped the Council improve slightly. A similar figure would be better for the reformed Council. The obvious choice was found being odd in a tavern.
"I'm not a furry!" the Penguin Furry yelled. "I am a penguinite! We are a noble...!"
"We don't serve furries," the tavern keeper repeated.
"Quiet! What did you say your name was, tavern keeper?"
"Vic Mars the fourteenth," the tavern owner answered.
The Soul Banisher grabbed the tavern keeper's throat and, not recognizing the name, tore it out and devoured it eagerly. He turned to the Penguin Furry, grinning with blood-stained teeth.
"So, you're the Penguin Furry, yes?"
"I'm not a f..." he began to say, before staring into the Soul Banisher's eyes and knowing true fear. "Yes, sir."
"Head to the Council of Nine's tower," he said. "Wait there for me."
With that, the Soul Banisher walked out of the room, not even bothering to wait for the affirmative answer.
The Soul Banisher walked into the Admin Chambers to find a replacement for the necromancer. Seeing the Iron Killer there, he pointed at him.
"Go to the Council of Nine's tower and wait there, got it?"
"Sure," the Iron Killer nodded.
Well, that was easy. Now to finish with the group scumfuck.
Although a replacement for Malk might seem to be an issue, the Soul Banisher felt like he should keep up his whole one for one theme. When he found himself stepping in a puddle of urine, he paused and frowned before realizing he had found his candidate.
A large, fluffly but very annoying bunny sat in a puddle of its urine. It sniffed the air, or perhaps sniffed its own urine. Yes, this would replace the Capybara.
"This'll do," the Soul Banisher said, picking up the rabbit before walking towards the Council of Nine tower.
The new Council of Thara, the Penguin Furry, the Iron Killer, Wibbins and the Small King were assembled outside the Council of Nine's tower. This would do. He'd replace the meaningless background Council Members later. For now, he had new minions to further his expansion.
The new Council was born
Today I learned that the Irish have a thing for crossdressing and bondage. What a rich and illustrious culture.
Did you know that they also did not fight Nazis?
Also, didn't commit genocide... unlike both America and Nazi Germany.
Just saying. Practically the only place that didn't participate.
Great booze, though.
Spain, Sweden, Portugal, several others. I'm quite proud we didn't send men to die fighting for a genocidal empire, a genocidal reich or a genocidal republic, in all honestly.
Actually, Sweden sold stuff to the Nazis, Portugal let Britan build bases on thier land, and I guess Spain was in a military dictatorship, but was siding a bit with Mussolini?
Actually, by those standards, Ireland did something in the war. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wvDFsxjaPaE&feature=youtu.be&t=2m50s
Yeah, and we accepted British refugees, gave them information on U-Boats, gave them weather reports which got them D-Day and won them the war, traded with them and released their captured pilots. Does that mean we weren't neutral?
Okay, gotta give you points on the refugee thing.
Starvation Order was still kinda fucked, though.
No, it wasn't. Deserters, traitors to the nation, do not get to get paid benefits. Seeing as America would've shot their traitors, the Starvation Order was a kindness. The fact that that's one of the worst marks on the Irish reputation rather that genocide or slavery or endless other shit speaks for itself.
Dude, people who fought in the war aren't traitors.
I don't think you'll be shot in America if you go to fight in a war that's not affecting America.
The Irish never did anything to people for fighting in the war. They did it to people who deserted and betrayed the country, something that America did actually shoot a man for. Your attempt to confuse "Signing up to fight in a war" and "Desertion" are absurd.
Oh look, it seems like you're talking out of your ass.
"I don't think you'll be shot in America if you go to fight in a war that's not affecting America."
"Oh look, here's the only guy who was shot for desertion since the Civil War, and it was because he was scared and thought he'd only go to jail."
That's not the reason I said. At all. That's literally the opposite reason.
Oh, and as for the whole "It doesn't matter if you fought in the war or not, you still left" thing:
How many people left Ireland during that time for any other reason?
I've explained this to you. The Starvation Orders were not for fighting in a war. They were for desertion. This is what you did to a deserter. We did the Starvation Orders. Far better. What part of this confuses you? It wasn't "leaving". If you were just an Irish citizen you could do what you wanted, but if you were in the defense forces and deserted, the same crime that that dude committed that he got shot for, we weren't giving you a pension and unemployment benefits for doing so, and the government wouldn't hire you again. It's not "leaving" Ireland, it's desertion.
Who is the Small King supposed to be?
MinnieKing probably, seeing how they've written eight stories and all of them have received fairly bad reviews.
Well, now I feel dumb. It's pretty obvious now that I think about it.
We all have those moments.
Haha, yes we do.
Yeah, just earlier today I learned you don't eat paper plates!
Wow! Small King is just like me!
Wait a second...
I do not approve of this. You should be ashamed of yourself, Steve.
Now let the shame wash over your unworthy form.
You're the replacement Mizal. Be happy about it. At least you don't have the dishonor of being the replacement Malk or someone shit.
I have problems with the entire characterization actually.
Write me in a more respectable manner!
I've been a cum guzzling sex fiend furry for most of these, and you don't see me complaining.
I dunno, the whole series has been taking a dive lately. Sort of started happening when Steve got temp banned from the super secret villain hideout.
This attempt at making a new council reminds me of when a TV series tries to recapture their old success with a new cast and it just never lives up to the ideal. It's like Saved By the Bell: The New Class or something.
The title of this thread has never been more appropriate. Lol.
How will Steve recover from this?
Someone's just annoyed they became a gimp.
Oh please, if the rest of you hadn’t been pointlessly bitching and flailing at me for the whole trophy thing, you wouldn’t have even HAD the material to work with to make your council stuff funnier in the first place. Lol.
A very colorful tale about the innate grotesqueness of humanity. Your tone is very bitter and harsh, implying that you are a complete and utter failure in the real world, desperately striving to create a smokescreen of self-importance and value for your sad, beer-addled mind.
Your writing disgusts me. I would rather impale my testicles with a pair of toothpicks before I would read this again. Your sick fantasies about the (wo)men on this site only serve to prove how depraved your mind has become from the lack of female bodily contact, and therefore does anything in its power to get your shriveled sack to squirt.
Utterly horrendous and no one in their right mind would ever willingly read such putrid garbage.
I r8 8/8.
What are you talking about?
I have testicles(not to be transphobic), you fool, as I clearly laid out in my post. Of course, your actual mother must regret not swallowing you, your sheer incompetence is astonishing.
Chapter XIV: Graffiti and signs aren't the same thing
The New Council walked along the streets, ready for another one of the Soul Banisher’s famous banquets. The first victim of the night was a peasant stumbling forth from his home and promptly shitting himself, before collapsing onto his face. The Soul Banisher struck with speed and glee, grabbing the man and twisting his arm behind his back. He grinned, peeling his fingernails off slowly as the man screamed in horror.
“Is this completely necessary?” Thara asked, grimacing at the act in front of her.
“You get used to it,” Wibbins said, feeling sick and also just being a general bummer on the vibe.
“You own a torture chamber, Thara! Don’t act like you’re not used to this.”
“Not like this, though! Usually it involves the bum,” Thara said.
“Can we do things to his butthole?” the Small King asked with the glee of a child in a candy store.
“No! Fuck off, you little shit and let me work!”
“Can we do things to my butthole?” the Small King asked with the glee of a paedophile who had lured a child into his candy store.
“No,” the Soul Banisher hissed, sinking his sharp teeth into the soft flesh of the peasant’s hand to tear off a finger.
The bunny, having done nothing of interest, soon began pissing. Despite the puddle the Soul Banisher found himself kneeling in being comprised of only urine rather than other bodily fluids, this somehow angered him more than General Lacker’s usual actions.
“This is sick! He’s bleeding to death, and the bunny we have is just pissing himself, and the piss and the blood are mixing and falling back into his open wounds! Iron Killer! You’re a holy Mod! Tell him to stop!” Thara screamed.
“Eh,” the Iron Killer shrugged, before going back to being bland and not doing anything worthy of parody.
The Soul Banisher sighed, as he began to peel off the peasant’s skin. The peasants head rolled to the side, realizing a stream of puke.
“MEH! That’s not how things work! PUKING? PUKING?!” the Penguin Furry yelled, as he quickly began beating the man to death with his sword.
The man groaned in pain as he was slowly beaten to death, before the Soul Banisher talked him.
“Stop killing my victim, you dick!”
“Bleh! I don’t like things!” the Penguin Furry said, before beginning to squawk out long winded rants of complete and utter gibberish.
With that, the peasant expired, his soul going up to heaven and out of the Soul Banisher’s grasp, where it was eaten by angels or whatever it is you, the reader, believes. I want to say cannibalism’s a big part of it, or like cutting off your kid’s dick or hating the former group.
“Fuck! Alright, that one went badly! You weren’t in the swing of thing, I can understand that. At least none of you are masturbating. Let’s continue on, shall we?”
The Soul Banisher stood, taking a deep breath. He began walking down the streets again, but the commotion had scared off all but the dumbest of fools. The Small King noticed, spotting the dumbest of fools spray painting the side of a building.
“Boss! I found one!”
“Ah, terrific,” the Soul Banisher, striding forward.
The Soul Banisher shot forward, grabbing the man by the throat. He man began to scream, so the Soul Banisher rammed his claw down his mouth, tearing his tongue free, before shutting the man’s mouth.
“Swallow,” the Soul Banisher whispered, as the man wept, swallowing his own tongue.
The Soul Banisher released his grip, as the man began to puke onto the ground.
“Och! Now I’m Scottish, or something!” the Penguin Furry yelled. “And that’s not how puk…!”
Sighing, the Soul Banisher kicked him in the groin, but he just stood there, standing there.
“Don’t you know Penguinites have a skull around their testicles or something, blah blah, blah, something else.”
The Soul Banisher grabbed him, ramming his head into the wall as the Penguin Furry collapsed to the ground. Strange. All evidence before that had pointed to the Penguin Furry having a very thick skull.
“Now, where was I? Oh yes, I was going to make you eat your own liver!” the Soul Banisher grinned.
“Wait!” Thara yelled.
“What?” the Soul Banisher sighed.
“He did nothing wrong! He doesn’t deserve this!” Thara said.
“Nuh-huh!” the Small King said. “He spray painted!”
“Yes, he did. And while I’m impressed he managed to invent spray paint in a medieval world, he still needs to die.”
“No he wasn’t! He was making a sign! Sign making deserves a reward, not punishment.”
The Soul Banisher turned, staring at the graffiti.
“CerulianFlame waz here and haz llama ballz” it read.
“What the fuck even is this? Llama balls? Is… is that what you say now?” the Soul Banisher asked.
“He was spreading information! Now we know where he’s been! There’s signs like this all over the city!”
“Nuh-huh!” the Small King said with the aggressive denial of a man being questioned about disappearances near his candy store.
“Like where?” the Soul Banisher asked.
Thara pointed to a sign, as the Soul Banisher began to read it.
“It says ‘Set’s Place: Open’. What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s the same thing!”
“No it isn’t!”
“Fine, there!” Thara says.
“That sign reads ‘No smoking!’ That fucking means something!”
“What about that?” Thara said again.
“You’re pointing at a cow!” the Soul Banisher yelled.
“Can we just take it easy?!” Wibbins yelled.
“Fuck you, Wibbins!” everyone yelled at the same time, as Wibbins was pushed further toward the noose.
“Look, fuck you! I have experience!” Thara says.
“I’m older than the concept of time, you bitch!”
“Oh, are you sad? Are you getting angry? What are you going to do, you little…!”
The Soul Banisher grabbed Thara’s head, twisting it and breaking her neck.
“Fucking bitch,” he said.
“You killed Thara!” Wibbins says.
“The gimp’ll bring her back. Probably,” the Soul Banisher said, before spitting on her spasming corpse. “I won’t even drink her soul. Now, fuck off. I need to find a replacement for this bitch. Actually, the piss bunny can come, it can’t talk.”
The Soul Banisher barged into Lady Mizal’s room, the piss bunny hopping after him.
“What?” Mizal asked.
“You know about the new council I formed?” the Soul Banisher asked.
“I hate Thara. I need a replacement.”
“Fuck off, I’m not going back to you!”
“Then I’ll get someone else. What ever happened to the Air Elemental Mage? I’ll get her!”
“Oh fuck off, I’ll do it!” Mizal complained. “One condition, though.”
“I get my old team back rather than these muppets.”
“Fuck off, you greedy bitch! You’ll get jack shit!”
“Fine! Maybe just… replace one of them?”
“Get rid of the bunny. It’s kind of boring.”
Mizal squealed gleefully, because that’s something that we can say now, before punting the bunny over the town walls.
“So we get Malk back?”
“Sure,” the Soul Banisher sighed, raising his hands and walking off. “Just try get the group into shape.”
As the Soul Banisher strolled away, Mizal paused, before swearing loudly as she remembered she didn’t even like Malk. Fuck, she even had a weird, presumably sexual, love of bunnies, and I as the narrator remember she was one at one point, or something. I'm pretty sure a dude one, actually. Anyhow, she liked rabbits and now she lost her chance to get one. Fuck this shit.
Now, the new council of Mizal, the Small King, the Iron Killer, Wibbins, the Penguin Furry and Malk were ready for action.
It was totally still a different Council to the old one, though.
Hopefully this means that I'm finally free from these stories.
End'll revive you, don't worry.
That's pretty disheartening.
If this wasn't hilarous, i'd be angry.
I kinda wanna see how much Mizal hates them :)
I gotta say, I don't like this series as much as the other.
I mean, it's getting kinda bland.
I don't even think this one is based on true events.
Fake and Gay.
Do you even look at the forums
Like even a little
Tim's stupid, don't take his opinion into account.
These stories just aren't the same anymore.
I mean, everyone knows that Thara cannot be killed by regular means.
I'm an ass-wiping dumbfuck who asks if everyone can do things to his butthole, and you don't see me complaining.
I'm happy for you that you're proud of being depicted that way.
And i'm happy for you for having your neck snapped. We've both accomplished great things today.
Someone's just bitter they got put in their place.
There was no murdering or any repercussions that occurred that night. I actually was saying this very thing even in the last story.
I'm very happy that things have been made more clear as what's appropriate to do away with. I earned a easy 20 points today, after all.
Lies, it was only 17.
Check again :)
You're still lieing, it was 22.
And you got those extra 5 after I posted.
It's even better then for me.
Well, enjoy your "easy" points that you probably spent longer looking for then you say you did.
I don't know what thread you were reading, but the one I read involved 3J destroying you, you getting super salty and then acting like you don't care through the tears of rage.
Your salt has been obvious with these recent additions.
Must explain the declining quality.
Anyway, there's work to do.
Thara you never write anything. Quit bitchin'.
Readers don't need to write, duh.
Then go sit in the corner and read one of your princess pony stories.
Princess pony stories?
Oh man, that was a sick burn.
Not as sick as that time I burn my leg on a heated stovetop
That was a fun emergency room
Jesus, that is a new level of bitter. Tell me, where's the salt, in the bits where I take the piss out of people I like, or when I take the piss out of people I don't like or don't care about? Where exactly? I know you've a good history of providing examples.
I pop into here and the Lounge every so often.
Then perhaps you were too ignorant to see what happened in the lounge last night. It was in the DMA thread.
Assuming you avoid DMA threads, 3J kicked Thara's ass, so it's about that. Plus how generally annoying our replacements are.
Eh, that was just to get across how fucking annoying they all are. If you want plots that follow events more closely, be more interesting.